The neighborhood where Alex Pretti was murdered is still humming with resistance.
The night before last, my wife and I went out to dinner with some people we know who live almost in view of the spot where Alex Pretti was shot and killed in Minneapolis. We found there a neighborhood galvanized into action, with neighbors (and businesses) determinedly supporting and protecting each other during the ongoing crisis here in Minnesota.
The section of Nicollet Avenue where Pretti was killed is widely known as Eat Street, due to its remarkable array of mostly-ethnic restaurants. As we stepped out onto the street, our host pointed out the spot where she'd been pepper-sprayed point-blank in the face in the aftermath of Pretti's killing. She never saw the goon who did it as he passed. She had not been in confrontation with the ICE thugs herself, but had instead rushed out of her house to join her neighbors in setting up an impromptu water station to flush the eyes of others who'd been tear-gassed.
We then made our way to the memorial that locals have created at the murder scene. We stood in the crowd there for a long time, silent in the frosty air, contemplating and listening to the speakers.
As we moved on toward our chosen eating spot, we passed three well-lit grocery stores. One of them specialized in Asian foods and another in Hispanic fare. Our host explained to us as we walked that there's a neighborhood watch group of a hundred or more who organize protective vigils around the stores, gathering there in larger numbers at the times when employees are starting or ending their shifts.
We dined in a large, crowded indoor space that's home to multiple ethnic restaurants. The mood there was relaxed and cheerful. The restaurants in that space are supporting the community by offering free meals to those who need them.
Not every restaurant on Eat Street is thriving, though. Some have gone dark, and others, like the decades-old landmark Black Forest Inn German restaurant, are publicly admitting that they're under an economic strain that could force them to close for now.
As we walked back along the sidewalk after our meal, a black SUV passed close in front of us as it pulled into a parking lot. A patrolling monitor on a bicycle screeched to a halt and asked us who we'd seen in the SUV. We couldn't say for sure, and so the bicyclist swiftly pedaled up close to the driver's side of the SUV and exchanged a few quick words with the occupants. Pedaling back, he called to us that the SUV was okay as he raced off again on his rounds.
Our host commented that it was inspiring and encouraging to her to see the way that the people of the community had instantly, spontaneously joined in support of each other in the wake of the tragedy, and were continuing to do so.
And that's the view tonight from Eat Street, a tiny microcosm of Occupied Minnesota in the winter of '26. Goodnight and good luck.
= new reply since forum marked as read
