
Federal agents claim Alex Pretti was a “domestic terrorist.”
But the stranger he tried to protect tells a completely different story—one that matches the bystander videos going viral.
On a frigid Saturday morning, January 24, 2026, in the Whittier neighborhood of Minneapolis, near the intersection of 26th Street and Nicollet Avenue, a routine federal immigration enforcement operation spiraled into tragedy. Alex Jeffrey Pretti, a 37-year-old intensive care nurse working for the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs, stepped into the chaos not as an aggressor, but as someone who could not stand by while a woman was shoved to the ground and pepper-sprayed by agents.
What unfolded in those final moments—captured from multiple angles by cell phones—has ignited nationwide outrage, sparked protests in sub-zero temperatures, and forced a reckoning over the use of lethal force by federal officers during President Trump’s intensified immigration crackdown. Two agents fired approximately ten shots, killing Pretti on the scene. Yet witnesses, including the woman he tried to shield, insist he posed no threat. He was unarmed in the critical seconds before the gunfire, hands raised, phone in one hand, the other empty—simply trying to help.
This is the story of a man whose final act was one of compassion, and how the official narrative clashed violently with the visual evidence that has since flooded social media and news outlets.
Who Was Alex Pretti?
Alex Pretti was not a radical activist or a known agitator. He was a dedicated ICU nurse who spent his days saving lives in the Veterans Affairs system—tending to critically ill veterans, managing ventilators, administering life-saving medications, and offering quiet comfort during some of the darkest hours. Colleagues described him as calm under pressure, compassionate, and deeply committed to his patients. Outside work, he was a licensed gun owner in Minnesota, where open and concealed carry are legal for qualified individuals. He carried responsibly, friends said, and had no criminal record.
Pretti grew up in Northeast Wisconsin before moving to Minneapolis. Former teachers and classmates remembered him as thoughtful and community-oriented. In the days after his death, they spoke at a local school board meeting, honoring a man who had always tried to do the right thing—even when it was hard.
On January 24, he was not protesting with a sign or chanting slogans. He was passing through the area when he saw federal agents—U.S. Customs and Border Protection (CBP) and Border Patrol officers—conducting an operation that involved detaining individuals. Tensions were already high amid the Trump administration’s aggressive push to enforce immigration laws in sanctuary-leaning cities like Minneapolis.
Video footage shows Pretti initially filming the scene with his phone and even directing traffic to keep the area safe amid the crowd. Then the situation escalated.
The Final 5 Seconds: A Witness’s Heartbreaking Testimony

A woman who was standing just feet away—later identified in media reports as an observer and protester—recorded much of the encounter on her phone. In sworn testimony and interviews, she described the sequence with raw clarity.
Federal agents had pepper-sprayed and shoved a female protester to the ground. Pretti, seeing her struggling, moved in to help her up. “He was just trying to help me,” she later told reporters, her voice breaking. “He put his hands above his head when they told him to, showing he wasn’t a threat. He had his phone in one hand—nothing in the other. He wasn’t reaching for anything. He was trying to protect her, the way anyone would if they saw someone being hurt.”
According to her account and multiple video angles:
- Agents surrounded Pretti and the woman.
- He raised his hands in compliance.
- Officers pepper-sprayed him again and pushed him down.
- Several agents—six or seven in full tactical gear—restrained him on the ground.
- One agent removed a handgun from Pretti’s waistband (a legal carry) and walked it away from the scene.
- Pretti was already on his knees, then fully restrained, when shots rang out.
The woman’s video, submitted as evidence, shows no brandishing of the weapon by Pretti. No aggressive lunge. No attempt to assault officers. Instead, it captures a man trying to de-escalate and assist someone in distress—until agents opened fire.
“He didn’t approach them with a gun,” she emphasized. “He approached with a camera. He was trying to help a woman get up, and they took him to the ground.”
Her words echo across bystander footage analyzed by major outlets: Pretti was disarmed and subdued before the fatal shots. At least ten rounds were fired in roughly five seconds, some at close range while he lay motionless.
The Official Narrative vs. the Videos
Within hours of the shooting, top Trump administration officials labeled Pretti a “domestic terrorist.” Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem stated he committed an “act of domestic terrorism” by interfering with federal officers, claiming he approached with intent to “inflict maximum damage.” White House Deputy Chief of Staff Stephen Miller called him a “would-be assassin” who “tried to murder federal agents.” Other aides amplified the claims online.
President Trump later distanced himself somewhat, calling the death “very sad” and saying he wanted an “honest investigation.” He criticized Pretti for carrying a gun but stopped short of endorsing the “terrorist” label personally.
Yet the videos tell a starkly different story. Analyses by The New York Times, The Washington Post, and others confirm: the handgun was secured before the shooting. Pretti was restrained by multiple agents when gunfire erupted. No evidence emerged of him reaching for or brandishing the weapon in a threatening manner.
Two agents who fired were placed on administrative leave per protocol. DHS, FBI, and CBP launched investigations, with Hennepin County prosecutors also reviewing for potential state charges. Body camera footage from agents—if activated and released—could clarify further, but as of late January 2026, it remained unreleased or unclear.
A Community in Mourning, a Nation Divided
Pretti’s death marked the second fatal shooting of a U.S. citizen by federal immigration agents in Minneapolis that month, fueling protests despite Arctic cold. Nurses associations condemned the killing, calling for accountability. Minnesota leaders, including Gov. Tim Walz, demanded transparency and criticized the aggressive tactics.
Pretti’s family slammed what they called “lies” from officials, insisting his final act was to protect a vulnerable woman. “Alex is clearly not holding a gun when attacked,” relatives said. “He has his phone in his right hand and his empty left hand raised… all while trying to protect the woman.”
The incident highlighted broader tensions: aggressive federal enforcement in resistant cities, the risks of armed citizens at volatile scenes, and questions about use-of-force protocols when multiple officers are present.
A Legacy of Compassion in Chaos
Alex Pretti died doing what he did every day in the ICU: trying to help someone in need. In his final five seconds, he chose humanity over hesitation. The stranger he shielded now carries that memory—and the weight of speaking for a man who can no longer speak for himself.
“He was just trying to help,” she repeats. Those words cut through the noise of politics, investigations, and accusations. They remind us that behind every viral video and official statement is a human story—one of courage, tragedy, and unanswered questions.
As Minneapolis buries one of its own and the nation debates what justice looks like, one truth remains undeniable: Alex Pretti’s last act was not terrorism. It was an ordinary act of decency in an extraordinary moment of crisis.
And in a divided country, that may be the most powerful—and heartbreaking—statement of all.