Customers were ordering doughnuts with names like Flirty Frenchie and Vanilla Darling when an employee at Glam Doll Donuts called Teresa Fox, the co-owner, with a chilling report: ICE agents were on Nicollet Avenue in Minneapolis, just outside the shop.
Another call came soon after. “They just killed someone on the street,” an employee told her. Outside the pink-framed windows of the doughnut shop, Alex Pretti lay on the ground, shot multiple times by immigration agents.
In the aftermath of the shooting on Jan. 24, the employees of Glam Doll opened their doors and began giving away doughnuts and coffee as clouds of tear gas spread through the streets. A medical station was set up in moments.
Allison Bross, the owner of b. Resale, next to Glam Doll, did much the same. Medical gear was quickly brought in, food was delivered, hand warmers appeared at the front of the door and personal protective gear came soon thereafter.
Businesses across the city have fundamentally changed their mission in the weeks since immigration agents descended on Minnesota. That new mission — to care for those too afraid to leave their homes and for those protesting on their behalf — has only intensified in the days since Mr. Pretti was killed.
For the business owners, the return has been twofold. There is pride in helping your community, they say, that goes beyond serving those who walk through their doors. And that sense of duty has resulted in overwhelming support from strangers and customers alike, expressed in emails, orders placed from around the world and donations to help keep the businesses afloat.
Never have they been prouder to be Minnesotan, they said.
“This is what Minneapolis does: It shows up,” Ms. Bross said. “I mean, we’ve done it for decades.”
Restaurants Take the Lead
It’s hard to drive far in Minneapolis or St. Paul without seeing signs that protest the presence of immigration agents. Highway overhangs have “ICE OUT” signs, lampposts display “Protect our neighbors” placards and restaurants have “Know your rights” pamphlets pasted on the windows and “Everyone welcome here, EXCEPT ICE” signs in the doors.
Restaurants have been squarely on the front lines since immigration agents began arriving in the Twin Cities in droves in December. Some employees called in to say they did not feel safe going to work or even going outside. The same was true for customers.
After Renee Good was killed on Jan. 7, the immediate reaction of some business owners, like Breanna Evans and Jeff Rogers of Wrecktangle Pizza, was to close their shops and find their footing: What could they do to help their community and their employees?
The answer came to Mr. Rogers on the evening of Ms. Good’s death, he said. The employees knew how to cook and knew how to feed people, so they mobilized to feed what he called high-risk employees from Wrecktangle and other local restaurants and to run a “pizza for pizza” promotion: one pizza donated for every pizza bought.
They were immediately overwhelmed with support. People ordered pizzas from all over the world with notes like “Don’t make this, just donate it.” Orders came in from China, Canada, Sweden, Alaska and California. The restaurant began making pasta salads too, to feed more people, and started coordinating with various local organizations for meal deliveries and pickups.
Wrecktangle opened a Venmo account to help facilitate the donations. After a few days, the account hit $80,000. Days later, it was at $200,000. The restaurant began accepting physical donations, too, coordinating with local mutual aid groups and businesses. The basement of the Wrecktangle’s Lyn-Lake location was filled to the brim with groceries, toiletries, and games for kids. The sheer volume was unsustainable, and it had to stop accepting physical donations.
“It’s everybody, everywhere, trying to do anything,” Elizabeth Klimenko, the director of sales and marketing, said as she assembled meal kits.
The attitude in Minnesota, said Ms. Evans, a Wrecktangle co-owner, is “Give me a task, tell me what to do, let’s go.”
Volunteers have raised their hands to help assemble pizzas and meal kits. Delivery people restocking the restaurant’s beer have asked if they could help deliver food. And person-to-person organizing has helped to get a steady stream of meals to after-school programs, families, and organizations coordinating a rapid response in the Twin Cities.
Ms. Evans and Mr. Rogers said they have lost track of exactly how much they have donated, but that they are keeping track of inventory as if they ran a stadium. They also said they have no intention of slowing down.
Feeding the Twin Cities
Some businesses have changed their approach altogether, including Modern Times, a diner that sits just blocks from where Ms. Good was killed.
The day after Mr. Pretti was killed, Dylan Alverson decided his diner would be renamed “Post Modern Times” and would transform into a donation-based restaurant until immigration agents leave the city. The diner would continue to work with local grocery stores and organizations to help with food and meal deliveries, he said, while also serving community members who come in.
“We’re in a conflict zone. We are in a crisis,” Mr. Alverson said. He’s fielded calls and donations from around the world since making his announcement, and while he was speaking with The New York Times, he accepted an unannounced delivery from Wisconsin farmers: pounds of carrots and maple syrup. All free.
“I think it’s giving people hope in this dark time, and I’m so happy that I can be a part of doing that,” he said.
A few miles away, Stephanie Ayala and Peter Elton, co-owners of Easy Day Cafe, decided to start a food drive. They put up a list of items needed by families, and by the end of the day, the entire front of the coffee shop had turned into a makeshift food pantry.
“We were just getting our legs underneath us, and then this happens, and we put business second,” Mr. Elton said, noting that the shop had opened just four months ago. “We’re just like, ‘Well, we are not going to be focusing on our seasonal drinks. That’s going to be at the bottom of the list.’”
They decided to accept food donations twice a week, on Fridays and Saturdays, and sort and deliver products on Sundays. Supporting families across the Twin Cities would be a marathon, not a sprint, they thought, and they also needed to make sure their employees could handle the constant stream of donations.
Over the course of a 30-minute conversation on a recent Saturday morning, more than two dozen people came in to drop off donations. Some of them asked if they could stay to help organize, including Sofie Holub, 25.
“Everyone wants to help. That’s how Minnesota is,” Ms. Holub said.
“Oh yeah, if you need help, we got you,” Kimberley Schuler, another volunteer, echoed.
The shop was overflowing with donations. The area outside the cafe became a makeshift freezer (at 20 degrees, it worked out well), and Ms. Ayala began putting some products in her car to help handle the overflow.
“As a business owner, you have a platform, and you can do what you want,” Ms. Ayala said, adding, “This is our new normal now.”
A New Nicollet
On Nicollet Avenue, most local businesses now act as warming spaces for those coming to visit the memorial for Mr. Pretti.
Black Forest Inn, a German restaurant, has provided warm drinks and soup, and has shared messages of support on its windows. “Cleveland, Ohio V.A. Hospital nurses are with you. They send love and support,” one reads. “Rhode Island stands with Minnesota” says another.
Pimento Kitchen, a Jamaican restaurant, has offered free food and a place to get warm. My Hmong Kitchen has kept its doors open for warm pho and hand warmers.
Ms. Fox shook her head as customers were flooding into her shop on Jan. 27 for doughnuts and coffee. She repeated a sentiment she shared the day Mr. Pretti was shot.
“We’re just a dumb doughnut shop,” she said, with a mix of awe and exhaustion.
Talya Minsberg is a Times reporter covering breaking and developing news.
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