Tragedy in Minneapolis: Family of Slain ICU Nurse Alex Pretti Slams Federal Agents’ ‘Sickening Lies’ in Heart-Wrenching Statement

In the crisp January air of Minneapolis, where the Mississippi River winds through a city known for its progressive spirit and resilient communities, a single gunshot—or perhaps several—shattered the morning calm on January 24, 2026. What began as a routine day for 37-year-old ICU nurse Alex Pretti ended in unthinkable tragedy: his life cut short by federal agents from the Department of Homeland Security (DHS) during a targeted immigration enforcement operation. Now, as the nation grapples with the aftermath, Pretti’s devastated family has broken their silence, painting a portrait of a “kindhearted soul” while unleashing a torrent of fury against what they call the administration’s “reprehensible and disgusting” fabrications about the incident.

The story, as it unfolds, is one that pierces the heart and ignites outrage. Pretti, a dedicated caregiver at the Minneapolis VA Hospital, was not the target of the operation, according to officials. Yet he found himself in the crosshairs of a chaotic confrontation that escalated into lethal force. His family’s statement, released through media outlets like CNN, is a raw cry for justice amid a sea of conflicting narratives. “We are heartbroken but also very angry,” they declared, their words echoing the pain of a loss that feels both personal and profoundly symbolic in an era of heightened tensions over immigration policy under President Donald Trump’s second term.

Imagine the scene: It’s around 9:00 a.m. local time, in a bustling neighborhood where everyday Minnesotans go about their lives. U.S. Border Patrol officers, part of DHS’s Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) arm, are executing a “targeted operation” against an undocumented individual wanted for violent assault. Chaos erupts. Protesters—numbering at least 200, according to reports from The Associated Press—gather swiftly, their chants clashing with the stern commands of law enforcement. In the midst of this turmoil, Pretti intervenes. His family insists he was attempting to “protect a woman” who had been pushed down by agents. With his phone in his right hand and his left hand raised empty above his head, he steps forward—not in aggression, but in defense. Pepper spray fills the air, blinding and disorienting. Then, the shots ring out.

Tricia McLaughlin, DHS’s assistant secretary, provided the official account in a statement to PEOPLE: Pretti “approached” the officers while armed with a handgun and “violently resisted” as they tried to disarm him. An agent fired “defensive shots,” she claimed, leading to Pretti’s death. But Pretti’s loved ones, along with Minneapolis Police Chief Brian O’Hara, have vehemently disputed this version. During a press conference on the day of the shooting, O’Hara pointed to publicly available video footage, stating simply, “The video speaks for itself.” Pretti’s family goes further: “Alex is clearly not holding a gun when attacked by Trump’s murdering and cowardly ICE thugs. He has his phone in his right hand and his empty left hand is raised above his head while trying to protect the woman ICE just pushed down, all while being pepper-sprayed.”

This discrepancy lies at the heart of the controversy, transforming a tragic death into a flashpoint for national debate. Was Pretti an armed aggressor, as DHS alleges, or a heroic bystander caught in the crossfire of overzealous enforcement? The family’s condemnation of the official narrative as “sickening lies” strikes a chord with many who see it as emblematic of broader issues under Trump’s administration—issues of accountability, transparency, and the human cost of aggressive immigration policies.

Alex Pretti was no stranger to saving lives. Born and raised in Minnesota, he had dedicated his career to caring for America’s veterans. His nursing license, obtained by PEOPLE, reveals he became a registered nurse in January 2021, working tirelessly in the ICU at the Minneapolis VA Hospital. Colleagues and friends remember him as a beacon of compassion in a high-stakes environment. In an exclusive interview with PEOPLE, a VA doctor who worked alongside Pretti described him as “kind and helpful,” always going the extra mile for patients who had served their country. “He had this quiet strength,” the doctor said. “In the ICU, where every second counts, Alex was the one you wanted by your side. He treated every veteran like family.”

Pretti’s family echoes this sentiment in their statement: “Alex was a kindhearted soul who cared deeply for his family and friends, and also the American veterans whom he cared for.” They paint a picture of a man driven by purpose, someone who “wanted to make a difference in this world.” Tragically, that drive may have led him to intervene in the confrontation that claimed his life. “Unfortunately, he will not be with us to see his impact,” his family lamented, their words a poignant reminder of dreams unfulfilled.

The shooting has ignited widespread protests and calls for investigation. Minneapolis Mayor Jacob Frey, in a fiery response, questioned the necessity of lethal force: “How many more Americans need to die?” Reports emerged of a federal agent allegedly mocking the tragedy with a callous “Boo hoo” remark, further fueling public anger. The city’s streets, already scarred by memories of George Floyd’s killing in 2020, now bear fresh wounds from this incident. Protesters clashed with federal agents, leading to additional chaos: a local family, including six children, was tear-gassed in the melee, as reported by PEOPLE. The Associated Press captured the intensity, with locals confronting law enforcement in a standoff that highlighted deep-seated distrust.

This isn’t an isolated event. Under Trump’s renewed presidency, ICE operations have intensified, drawing criticism for their aggressiveness. Related stories abound: Just weeks prior, Renee Good, a 37-year-old mother in Minneapolis, was fatally shot by ICE agents in a separate incident. Her death was ruled a homicide by the medical examiner, with multiple gunshot wounds. Good’s family released an independent autopsy detailing the shots, and they hired the same law firm that secured a $27 million settlement for George Floyd’s family. Neighbors recounted hearing “three pops” followed by a crash, painting a harrowing picture of panic and loss. Good’s childhood friend told PEOPLE she “would’ve brought a lot of good into the world,” while her mother described her as “one of the kindest people I’ve ever known,” terrified in her final moments.

These cases underscore a pattern. In small towns and major cities alike, ICE actions have sparked outrage. One report detailed agents dining at a Mexican restaurant before detaining employees—a stark illustration of everyday lives disrupted. Another highlighted how ICE’s training academy shortened its program to 47 days under Trump, a nod to his status as the 47th president, raising questions about agent preparedness. Critics argue this rush contributes to fatal errors, turning routine operations into deadly encounters.

Pretti’s high school friend, in an exclusive to PEOPLE, remembered him as someone who “wasn’t someone who would pick a fight.” They shared stories of a gentle teen who volunteered at shelters and dreamed of helping others. This image clashes violently with DHS’s portrayal, amplifying the family’s demand: “Please get the truth out about our son. He was a good man.”

The video evidence, though not publicly released in full, has become a focal point. O’Hara’s press conference emphasized its clarity, suggesting it contradicts the official story. Advocacy groups like the ACLU have called for its immediate release, along with body-cam footage. “Transparency is the only way to rebuild trust,” one spokesperson said. Meanwhile, DHS stands firm, insisting the shots were defensive. McLaughlin’s statement detailed the operation’s intent: targeting an “illegal alien wanted for violent assault.” But in the fog of the confrontation, how did Pretti—a U.S. citizen and nurse—become the casualty?

This question haunts Pretti’s family and the nation. In their statement, they direct ire at Trump’s leadership: “The sickening lies told about our son by the administration are reprehensible and disgusting.” It’s a bold accusation, one that resonates in a polarized America. Trump’s immigration stance—promising mass deportations and border security—has empowered agencies like ICE, but at what cost? Supporters argue such operations protect communities; detractors see them as overreach, endangering innocents.

Public reaction has been swift and visceral. Social media buzzes with hashtags like #JusticeForAlexPretti and #EndICEViolence. Vigils in Minneapolis draw hundreds, candles flickering against the winter chill as speakers share stories of Pretti’s kindness. One veteran patient, speaking anonymously, told local news: “He saved my life more than once in that ICU. Now, who’s saving us from this madness?” Protests have spread to other cities, with demands for federal oversight and reform.

The broader implications are staggering. Pretti’s death highlights the human toll of policy. As an ICU nurse during the lingering effects of the COVID-19 era, he embodied frontline heroism. His work at the VA served those who defended the nation—irony that stings deeply. In a time when healthcare workers are hailed as heroes, his killing by federal agents feels like a betrayal. It raises uncomfortable questions: How safe are bystanders in enforcement actions? What protocols prevent escalation? And why, in 2026, do such tragedies persist?

Pretti’s family, in their grief, has become unwitting advocates. Their statement ends with gratitude: “Thank you.” But it’s a plea wrapped in pain—a call for the truth to prevail. As investigations unfold—Minneapolis PD cooperating with federal probes—the world watches. Will justice come? Or will this be another chapter in a long history of unresolved pain?

Alex Pretti wanted to make a difference. In death, he may yet force one: a reckoning with the systems that failed him. His story is a reminder that behind every headline is a human life—kindhearted, impactful, irreplaceable. As Minneapolis mourns, the nation must confront the shadows of its policies. For Pretti’s sake, and for all who follow, the truth must emerge from the lies.

In the end, Pretti’s legacy endures not in the violence that took him, but in the love he gave. His family clings to that, even as they fight for accountability. “He was a good man,” they affirm. And in those words, a challenge to us all: to honor the good by demanding better.