🕯️ My Homage to the Martyr of Minneapolis. Alex Pretti Was the Best of Us—and ICE Executed Him in the Street.

He was an ICU nurse who cared for veterans. A calm, kind man. A witness. A martyr against American injustice.

Alex Pretti was an ICU nurse at the Minneapolis VA hospital. A caregiver. A mentor. A calm presence in chaos.

And now he is dead—shot over and over again at point blank range by Trump’s federal immigration agents on a Minneapolis street—while federal officials lied and rushed to label him a “would-be assassin” and accuse him of “domestic terrorism” with no evidence. But has evidence ever mattered to them?

I’ve been sitting with this. I didn’t want to rush it. Because when the state kills someone and then tries to smear them, the least we can do is slow down long enough to say the truth out loud. I also find myself so angry over all of this that I had to give myself a day or two so that I could avoid saying something I will forever regret.

If you believe in journalism that stays free for the world—for readers in Gaza, readers in Sudan, families living in deep poverty, and even kids in middle school trying to understand what adults are doing—please support our work. Membership is how we keep our reporting free for them, and even for you, when you can’t afford to pay. click here to become a member and click here to join as a monthly, annual, or founding member.

According to Alex’s friends, colleagues, and family describe him as “a good man.” They describe him as kind, patient, steady. They describe him as the kind of nurse patients remembered—someone who mentored younger nurses stepping into the intimidating environment of the ICU. A colleague told the Times he was “a happy guy,” and when you asked him to do something, “it would be done and it would be done right.” Another colleague, speaking about the confrontation that preceded his death, said Alex was trained in de-escalation and was “uniquely qualified” to handle tense moments with integrity and grace.

That’s who he was.

Not the caricature the Trump administration tried to paint within hours of his death.

Not the smear.

Not the propaganda.

Alex Pretti is a martyr against American injustice and bigotry. I believe his name and face will be remembered for generations—because the way he lived, and the way he died, sits in that lineage of people who didn’t have to be present in the danger, but chose to be present anyway.

I’m putting him in the footsteps of Goodman, Chaney, and Schwerner—not because the stories are identical, but because the moral posture is the same: showing up where power is abusing people, bearing witness, refusing to look away, and paying a price that should never have been demanded.

Alex didn’t choose to die. But he chose to be there.

And if you’ve been paying attention to Minneapolis, you know what that means. The streets have been dangerous. Federal agents have already killed and maimed. People have been terrified. Communities have been rattled. And yet, Alex showed up anyway—calm, stoic, steady—like the kind of man you become when you’ve spent your life walking into rooms where people are in crisis.

That’s what ICU nurses do.

They walk toward the emergency when everyone else’s instinct is to back away.

They bring steadiness into chaos.

They keep their hands from shaking when the room is screaming.

They become a kind of quiet courage.

So when I hear people who knew him say he was calm in a crisis, that tracks. When I hear his friends say he was “cool without trying,” and that it was because he was kind to everybody, that tracks. When I hear the governor say Alex lived a “life of generosity,” that tracks.

And then the state tried to turn him into a monster.

The New York Times reports that within hours, Trump administration officials labeled him a “would-be assassin” and accused him—without evidence—of “domestic terrorism.” The Times also reports that federal officials noted he had a gun, but that he was licensed to carry it, had not drawn it, and videos show he was holding a phone rather than the gun. The Times reports he was disarmed just before he was shot.

That’s not a minor detail. That’s the whole story.

Because this is the pattern we’ve been watching: kill someone, then immediately try to assassinate their character so the public will accept the killing.

But as one of Alex’s friends said, “We have all seen the video and our eyes don’t lie.”

Exactly.

Your eyes don’t lie.

And his family doesn’t lie either. In a statement his parents said the “sickening lies” told about their son are “reprehensible and disgusting,” and they begged the public: “Please get the truth out about our son. He was a good man.”

So I’m doing that right now.

Alex Pretti was a good man.

He cared for veterans.

He mentored younger nurses.

He was a calm presence.

He loved the outdoors.

He loved his people.

He was the kind of person who, even in petty moments as a teenager, would step in when older kids were picking on younger kids and tell them to stop. One friend described the feeling of being around him as “a deep sense of safety and confidence.”

That is who the state killed.

And that is why the smear is so vicious: because they’re not just trying to justify a shooting. They’re trying to teach a lesson to everyone else who might dare to be a witness.

They’re trying to tell you: “If you show up, if you film, if you stand close enough to see what we’re doing, we can kill you—and we’ll call you a terrorist afterward.”

That’s the lesson.

And Alex’s life—his choice to show up anyway—answers that lesson with something better:

No.

We will bear witness anyway.

We will protect each other anyway.

We will not surrender our humanity to their intimidation.

That’s why martyrs matter. Not because death is holy. But because their courage exposes what power wants to hide.

In the civil rights movement, the murders were meant to terrify people into silence. Instead, those names became banners that history could not ignore.

And that’s why I believe Alex’s name will endure. Because this wasn’t just a death. It was a message. And we’re obligated to answer it.

Here’s my answer: Alex Pretti deserved to live. He deserved to go back to his apartment, to his bike, to his patients, to his family, to his friends. He deserved a long life full of ordinary days and quiet joy. He deserved to be an old man one day—still kind, still steady, still the calm presence in chaos.

And since the state stole that from him, the least we can do is refuse the lie.

Say his name.

Tell the truth.

Protect the witnesses.

Defend the right to film.

Demand accountability.

And keep showing up for each other.

If you want The North Star to keep telling the truth plainly—without euphemisms, without fear, and without paywalls—please become a member today. click here to become a member and click here to join as a monthly, annual, or founding member.

What do you want Alex Pretti to be remembered for—and what are you willing to do so the state can’t bury the truth with a smear?

Love and appreciate each of you.
Your friend and brother,
Shaun

Don’t Stop Here