Driver flees after crashing into Hollywood 7-Eleven
Police are searching for the driver of a car that slammed into a 7-Eleven store in Hollywood before driving away on Monday night.
Los Angeles Fire Department crews responded quickly to the scene, as their station is located just behind the convenience store, but by the time they arrived the driver had already fled.
It's unclear what caused the collision and Los Angeles police have begun their investigation and search for the driver. They say that there were no injuries to anyone inside of the store.
There was no information immediately available on the suspect or vehicle involved.
SkyCal flew over the scene, where the front of the store could be seen with severe damage. Some of the parking lot was blocked off by crime scene tape as investigators began their probe into the incident.
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Washington Post
15 minutes ago
- Washington Post
As protests rage, Republicans see a winning campaign issue
Good morning, Early Birds. Happy Primary Day to our Virginia neighbors. Send tips to earlytips@ Thanks for waking up with us. In today's edition … Republicans plan to run on protests, strife … Virginians head to the polls … You give us your reactions to Padilla … but first … President Donald Trump left the Group of Seven summit early, flying overnight from Canada to return to the White House and deal more directly with the escalating conflict between Israel and Iran. He had been scheduled to meet today with Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky and Mexican President Claudia Sheinbaum but told reporters he needed to be at the White House to address the conflict. 'I have to be back,' Trump said Monday while posing for photos. 'You probably see what I see, and I have to be back as soon as I can.' Before leaving, Trump agreed to sign a statement with other world leaders that called for 'a broader de-escalation of hostilities' in the Middle East, backtracking on his initial decision, Cat Zakrzewski, Cleve R. Wootson Jr. and Amanda Coletta report from Banff, Alberta, following discussions with other leaders in the group and changes to the initial draft. The signed statement omitted language that called for both Iran and Israel 'to show restraint,' which appeared in an earlier draft of the agreement viewed by The Washington Post, our team in Canada reports. Vance Boelter put deep planning into his attacks on Democratic Minnesota lawmakers and went to the homes of at least two more, according to a criminal complaint federal agents released yesterday. It says he stalked the lawmakers he was planning to attack and invested in elaborate disguises for his face, clothes and car to appear like a police officer. His targets extended beyond Minnesota, the complaint says, including in several other Midwestern states. Boelter faces federal charges of stalking and shooting state Rep. Melissa Hortman and state Sen. John Hoffman and their spouses; Hortman and her husband died in the attack. If convicted, he would be eligible for the death penalty. The shooting will have security implications for lawmakers' security in Minnesota and nationwide. 'I'd have to imagine that this certainly will change things in Minnesota,' said Ken Martin, chair of the Democratic National Committee, who used to lead the state party in Minnesota. He noted that the state has a famously up-close-and-personal brand of politics. Martin was close friends with Hortman. 'I hope that it doesn't change one thing, which is the openness of our government … but there no doubt will be conversations about how we keep our elected officials safe.' Holly Bailey, Patrick Marley and Jeremy Roebuck have more on where the case will go from here. On Capitol Hill, Sen. Mike Lee, a Utah Republican, went full keyboard warrior. After he posted tweets blaming Democrats for the political assassinations, he refused to talk about them when asked in real life. Sen. Tina Smith, a Minnesota Democrat, angrily confronted Lee over the tweets. Theodoric Meyer has more on the confrontation and how lawmakers are on edge that they could be subjected to violence next. John F. King is running for the Senate in Georgia, over 2,000 miles from the protests in Los Angeles, but nothing could be more relevant to his campaign, he told us, than the unrest happening in Southern California. 'It's the visual images,' said King, a Republican serving as Georgia's insurance and safety fire commissioner. As the protests against federal immigration raids unfolded in Los Angeles, King took to X to hammer Democratic Sen. Jon Ossoff, his potential general election opponent, by using images of unrest. King then headlined an event in Smyrna, Georgia, a Cobb County suburb of Atlanta, where he said he spent most of the event talking about the protests and answering questions about whether the same could happen in the southern state. 'We'd better pay attention,' said King, who spent nearly four decades in the Army National Guard and retired as a major general. 'Or it is going to be a costly effect in the next election.' King and other Republicans see a midterm opportunity in the unrest in Los Angeles and Trump's decision to circumvent California Gov. Gavin Newsom (D) by calling up the National Guard and deploying hundreds of Marines. The civil unrest followed protests of Immigration and Customs Enforcement raids, allowing the GOP to focus on a top issue for its base — immigration — and tie Democrats to scenes of looting and vandalism. It lets even faraway Republicans raise questions about whether that kind of strife would happen in the largest city in their state, stoking fears of some voters in rural stretches. The National Republican Senatorial Committee last week hit Rep. Chris Pappas (D-New Hampshire), who is running for Senate, accusing him of putting 'illegal immigrants above American citizens.' And Sen. Thom Tillis (R-North Carolina), one of the chamber's more vulnerable Republicans, targeted his possible 2026 opponent for being 'completely silent about the violence and carnage going on in L.A.' Trump, meanwhile, took to social media to demand that ICE focus enforcement on Democratic-run cities, calling Los Angeles, Chicago and New York the 'core of the Democratic Power Center.' The demand is likely to politicize the immigration force further and is sure to roil tensions across the country. Asked on Monday for a response to King, Ellie Dougherty, the Ossoff campaign communications director, said the senator 'calls on Americans to continue peacefully exercising their constitutional rights to speech and assembly.' She noted the distinction between the politically motivated shootings of Democratic lawmakers in Minnesota and the 'hundreds of thousands who peacefully demonstrated their opposition to Donald Trump's brazen abuses of power' over the weekend. 'Sen. Ossoff condemns political violence of all kinds,' Dougherty said. Rep. Jake Auchincloss (D-Massachusetts), a member of the Marine Corps Reserve, said Republicans are creating a 'dangerous situation that is deeply unfair' to the Marines whom Trump called up to protect federal buildings amid protests. 'These Marines sweat and bled for years to train to defend this country, not to be political props for Donald Trump or MAGA wannabes,' Auchincloss said. 'They are operating as parasites on the military's public esteem.' Auchincloss, who trained at the same base from which those Marines deployed, said the training they receive is 'just a totally different type of military operation' than the one they are asked to do in Los Angeles. This narrative Republicans are pushing highlights how chaos, while sometimes seen as a political knock against the president, is often viewed inside GOP politics as a win for him, especially if it allows Trump to focus on immigration and claims of lawlessness. 'Democrats will always side with chaos, rioters, open borders and foreign criminals,' said Mike Marinella, press secretary for House Republicans' campaign arm this cycle. 'The NRCC will make sure voters remember it all the way through November 2026.' Trump used the opening of the first Group of Seven meeting of his second term in office to both advocate for Russia rejoining the group and to blame some of his favorite political targets for ousting the country in the first place. 'The G-7 used to be the G-8. Barack Obama and a person named Trudeau didn't want to have Russia in. I would say that was a mistake — you wouldn't have a war right now if Russia were in,' Trump said. He failed to acknowledge that Russia, then a member of the G-8, was kicked out of the group for illegally annexing Crimea in 2014 and that Justin Trudeau did not take office as Canadian prime minister until 2015. Trump went on to brag about his relationship with Russian President Vladimir Putin. 'Putin speaks to me. He doesn't speak to anybody else. He doesn't want to talk because he was very insulted when he got thrown out of the G-8, as I would be, as you would be, as anybody would be. He's very insulted,' Trump said. Trump made the comments during a public meeting with Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney, who stopped the questioning by saying, 'I'm going to exercise my role as G-7 chair' before reporters were escorted out. Virginia voters head to the polls today to vote in the commonwealth's primary elections. The race for governor is basically a foregone conclusion: Lt. Gov. Winsome Earle-Sears is the presumptive Republican nominee, and former congresswoman Abigail Spanberger will be the Democratic nominee. The most interesting race may be the Democratic primary for lieutenant governor, a six-way contest that pits two state senators — Ghazala Hashmi from Richmond and Aaron Rouse from Virginia Beach — against former Richmond mayor Levar Stoney and three other candidates. Stoney has led the way in fundraising, but in a six-way race, anything is possible. Voters will also set the general election matchups in a series of key legislative races that will go a long way to deciding whether Democrats maintain their narrow control of the state's legislature. A federal appeals court in California is holding a hearing today on whether Trump overstepped his authority by deploying the National Guard to the Los Angeles demonstrations. A lower court ordered Trump last week to back off and give control of the National Guard back to Newsom. However, shortly after, the U.S. Court of Appeals for the 9th Circuit ruled that Trump could continue to exercise his authority over the National Guard for now and scheduled a hearing on the matter for this afternoon. Newsom sued Trump for deploying the National Guard and Marines to Los Angeles without his consent. Governors are the commanders in chief of their states' National Guards, although the president can take command under extraordinary circumstances. Sen. Bernie Sanders (I-Vermont) is backing a primary challenge against an incumbent Democrat in Michigan today. State Rep. Donavan McKinney announced the liberal leader's support in challenging incumbent Rep. Shri Thanedar this morning. Sanders is the second lawmaker in Congress to endorse McKinney after fellow liberal Rep. Rashida Tlaib. McKinney has more than 30 state and local endorsements and is casting Thanedar as a multimillionaire bankrolled by moneyed interests. Thanedar has represented Michigan's 13th District since 2023 and has emerged as a bit of an oddball in the House Democratic Caucus. He financed much of his 2022 run, lending his campaign more than $9 million from his own wallet. He irritated many of his Democratic peers by filing articles of impeachment against Trump in April, only to withdraw them a month later after not getting enough support for the maneuver. 'As a Member of Congress, Donavan will fight to raise the minimum wage to a living wage, fully fund our public schools, invest in public housing and support Medicare for All,' Sanders said in a statement. 'A former union leader, he has dedicated his life to standing with working people, and is ready to lead the struggle against Donald Trump, the oligarchy, and the corporate interests who prioritize profits over people.' Fort Worth Report (Texas): A federal lawsuit alleges Texas's recent redistricting racially discriminated against minority voters in the way it redrew a state senate seat. The Colorado Sun (Denver): The housing crisis in Colorado is colliding with an aging population, raising broader questions about housing at a time when the country is getting older. Orlando Weekly: The state of Florida could soon authorize funds for a permanent memorial marking the 2016 Pulse nightclub mass killing. We're keeping things open-ended today. With conflict brewing in the Middle East, protests in the streets and deadly violence against elected officials, there's a lot to be reflecting on. What's on your mind lately? What in politics has been weighing on you? Send us your thoughts at earlytips@ or at and Thanks for reading. You can follow Dan and Matthew on X: @merica and @matthewichoi.
Yahoo
15 minutes ago
- Yahoo
Tear Gas, Human Stampedes, and ICE Raids: 100 Hours in L.A.
Have you ever been caught up in a human stampede? You'd remember it. But let's back up to calmer times. Even social unrest has an internal clock. It is the eighth day of protests in downtown Los Angeles since Donald Trump's Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) began grabbing immigrants from Home Depot parking lots and clothing factories in hopes of making America great again. I've been here for four days watching the uneasy coexistence of riot shields and men in mammoth pickup trucks with giant Mexican flags blasting Nipsey Hussle's 'Fuck Donald Trump' at unfathomable volumes. If you watch Fox News or spend time on the rack of the Twitter Machine, you believe that the protests have ruined the 500 square miles that comprises Los Angeles. If you're here, you realize that the protests are limited to a four-block radius that you would have to circle eight times to get your FitBit to 10,000 steps. Nevertheless, right-wing media will dismiss you as a misinformation radical if you don't acknowledge that a half-dozen Waymos have been set afire and some awful people dropped stones on police cars — but this is not the Rodney King riots when 92 people lost their lives, the city shut down, and lost a $1 billion in revenue. I have settled into a routine. In the morning, I go for a walk to see what happened the night before. My Hilton is about a mile from the Roybal Federal Building that houses both ICE and Homeland Security and where, according to Trump, civilization was ending in some kind of Sodom-meets-1980s Detroit, and that's why he took over the National Guard and called in the Marines to Los Angeles. I start up Grand Avenue and look for the terror. I say hello to Atletico Madrid staffers in gauche and politically dubious 'Visit Rwanda' jerseys on the way to Starbucks. (On Sunday, 80,000 fans at the Rose Bowl will watch them get hammered 4-0 by Paris St. Germain). A tip of my BC Lions cap to the Broad museum docents who usually tell your tween to step back from the Warhol and now form the most quixotic security perimeter. Hello to Kat, a raven-haired parks worker/singer who I met the night before at the Redwood Bar and Grill who had exactly 13 dollars for the calamari and ice water combo, taking her leftovers home in a napkin. Now, she is rollerblading toward me at maximum velocity at the theoretically bustling corner of Main & Fifth Avenue. She smiles and shouts, 'Don't forget my band is playing at the farmer's market Sunday!' I do not feel the need to update my will or write goodbye notes to my son and wife. I walk on. I am now four blocks from the protest epicenter and there is no evidence of its existence. Sadly, there is actual evidence of alcohol abuse, drug addiction, and homelessness as I pass five or six people in need of help, some wandering into traffic, some picking through trash cans, and some passed out in a way that leaves me wondering if they are dead or alive. I arrive at 300 North Los Angeles Street, the physical address of the Edward R. Roybal Federal Building, and I see the regulars who have been expressing their regulated anger at the Three Horsepeople of the Apocalypse — Trump, the permanently furious Stephen Miller, and Homeland Security chief Kristi Noem, American Girl's stepmom gone to plastic — who ordered ICE to kick it into a higher gear and begin picking up abuelas while maintaining they just want to take psychotic criminals off the street. There are two major gathering points. The front of the building provides an outstanding visual backdrop with impassive riot-shield-clad National Guard troopers guarding the entrance. This is the location where in a different generation a hippie would tie a daisy onto a riot stick to make a human connection. Alas, it never happens because you'd end up handcuffed and tear gassed. On the back side of the property — Alameda Avenue — is the second pressure point. This is where ICE and Homeland Security haul ass into the underground garage with unknown passengers destined for known, terrible outcomes. The protests are located close to some of downtown L.A.'s limited charms. A couple of blocks away there's the Geffen Contemporary at MOCA. The museum's warehouse wall is covered with Barbara Kruger's 30-by-190-foot untitled work that everyone calls 'Questions.' In giant white letters on a blood-red background Kruger asks the right questions: 'Who is beyond the law? Who is bought and sold? Who is free to choose? Who does the time? Who follows orders? Who salutes longest? Who prays loudest? Who dies first? Who laughs last?' Inside, Pussy Riot's Nadya Tolokonnikova has a residency of sorts with Police State, an in-person performance art piece where she spends eight hours a day in a jail cell similar to the one Putin sent her to and where she sewed garments as her prison job. As ICE is now raiding actual garment factories, it is a prophetic example of art cosplaying with real life. I want to check about getting a stand-by ticket, but the doors are locked. I pull up the museum's website on my phone and get the following message: Due to evolving conditions in downtown Los Angeles and the proximity of the Geffen Contemporary at MOCA to ongoing demonstrations and military activity near the Los Angeles Federal Detention Facility, the museum has made the decision to adjust its operating hours and event schedule out of concern for the safety of staff and visitors … this performance will be postponed to a later date. Police State has been canceled because of a police state. QUICK STORY. ON FRIDAY NIGHT, I POP INTO the Redwood Bar & Grill, a legendary downtown dive bar, ostensibly to check in on downtown businesses being economically crushed by protest-related closures and curfew. I'm not saying I was starved for material related to anarchy in L.A., but it's hard to write about an American melodrama without the melodrama. So, my eyes widen with excitement when I see the bartender. He wears an Iron Maiden T-shirt and a face clotted with bruises and maybe a broken nose. A regular asks him what happened. The bartender offers a half-smile and speaks in a stage whisper. 'You know all the crazy demonstrations?' He speaks in a conspiratorial stage whisper. 'Well, Tuesday I got really drunk and fell on my face. Nothing to do with the protests.' THE FIRST VIOLENCE I SEE SEEMS UNREAL, like I am participating in some virtual reality protest cosplay, stage-crafted on the world's largest sound stage. (This is a view that most assuredly would get me a 'fuck off' from the protestors with rubber-bullet welts.) On Wednesday, a few hundred protesters march to City Hall, a majestic 32-story white beast built in the 1920s. It is almost magic hour and the surrendering sun gives the protesters a golden, toasted aura. (Many of them are actually toasted, so much weed!) On the walk over from the federal building, a leader with megaphones leads the protesters in chants of 'peaceful protest, peaceful protest.' The man gives his followers a warning, 'There are a few asshole agitators trying to ruin this, don't let them.' And it's true. There are a few, scattered black-masked dudes on e-bikes talking into cell-phones before popping wheelies and riding down the abandoned boulevards. They do not seem like George Soros-funded antifa ninjas, and the crowd mostly ignores them. The LAPD eventually orders everyone to disperse from the City Hall steps, and most of the protesters retreat into the adjacent Gloria Molina Grand Park. The hardcore do not. The park slopes upward and I watch from a higher vantage point as two separate squadrons of riot squads move in a pincer movement on the few resisters while a dozen police horses, some wearing Plexiglass blinkers, press forward in a frontal assault. Flash-bang grenades and the bleakly named 'less lethal' rubber bullets target the stragglers. It is hideous overkill and, inevitably, a protester gets knocked to the ground with a sickening thud. The top floor of City Hall features a ballroom and a balcony. Well-connected gawkers watch the melee and the sunset simultaneously. But as tear gas begins to waft and riot sticks are swung, the gawkers head back inside. And I think of a story I read as a kid about picnic-packing tourists watching the First Battle of Bull Run in the Civil War from the safety of their carriages. The sightseers had to flee when things got turned apocalyptic and fled home riding over the dead bodies of their fellow Americans. CONVENIENTLY, THE LONG-SCHEDULED NO KINGS PROTEST nationwide protest rallies coincided with the second weeks of ICE protests in L.A. It's another perfect day and tens of thousands gather for the platonic ideal of a demonstration; there are mariachi bands singing in Spanish and then switching to English when they shout 'Fuck ICE.' I can't speak for the rest of the country's demonstrations, but this has a visceral 'it fucking matters' feel with a plurality of the crowd made up of Mexican American Angelinos, from five-year-olds to abuelas walking with canes, all with stories of family members, some documented, some not, terrorized and living in fear in a city that would disintegrate if they were all deported. Despite the darkness of the situation, hilarity reigns, and the signs are creative: Two Mexican American twentysomethings wave signs reading, 'Please Don't Take Away Our Big Booty Latinas.' Nearby, a young woman wears a Dodgers cap and a T-shirt reading, 'This is terrible. Keep going.' The protest has its own sanitation workers, slipping by on skateboards with garbage picks and trash bags. Of course, there are some complaints; the sound system sucks when the rally starts, so God only knows what the speakers in front of City Hall were saying to the growing masses. 'The sound was so much better for Bernie, but he had Neil Young,' says a guy named Steve. 'But you couldn't even bring water in.' He along with two friends is outfitted in purple and gold T-shirts reading 'Justice for Janitors,' the union led by David Huerta, who was manhandled and arrested while peacefully protesting ICE arrests outside the Roybal Federal Building, a few blocks away. I ask Steve where he cleans, and he laughs. 'Oh, I'm not a janitor. I just went to David's office to show support, and they gave them to me.' The rally ends at 2 p.m. and I duck into my downtown hotel for some respite, a quick check-in with the rest of our dystopian world, and then some sunblock. And I weep. I woke up this morning to the news that Minnesota state Rep. Melissa Hortman and her husband had been assassinated in their home by a man impersonating a policeman. I met Melissa for coffee in St. Paul last October when I was reporting a Tim Walz profile. I'd fucked up my shoulder and was a bit addled and in excruciating pain. She had been patient, kind, and funny. Hortman and Walz had pushed through a series of social advancements including paid family leave, health care, protection of abortion rights, and free breakfast and lunches for all students. She believed in spending political capital to make lives better rather than hoarding it for future campaigns. Eventually, our conversation turned to Gov. Walz's decision to call out the national guard when peaceful protests of the strangulation death of George Floyd turned violent. 'In the first 48 hours, there were a lot of peaceful protests, and then it appeared that a lot of people were coming in from out of town,' Hortman told me. 'And for a lot of different reasons, different people took advantage of that moment to create chaos to benefit themselves, whether it's organized crime, whether it's people who benefit from chaos, but it escalated extremely rapidly.' I asked her who benefitted from the chaos in Minneapolis, and she shrugged her shoulders and offered a sad sphinx-like smile. I decided to make a final trip to the federal building, and on the walk over I mull over Hortman's words in the context of L.A. I remember a Latin phrase that an Italian American politician told me he used to cut through the haze of realpolitik: Cui bono? (Who benefits?) Well, definitely Trump is distracting his supporters from his falling out with Elon Musk, disastrous foreign policies, and ever-changing tariff strategy by rounding up immigrants who his base is already inclined to despise. (Unless, the deported is a friend. Then it is an outrage.) And there's Fox News, keyboard warriors, and AM radio shitheads who hawk trash supplements between segments painting all illegal immigrants as rapists or drug mules. And yes, there are lefty radicals who ruin it for everyone with the idea that problems can only be solved by burning it all down. I'm processing all of this, but mostly I just want to sit down. I ease myself onto the cement back at my favorite spot about 30 feet from the federal underground garage. It's not quite 4 p.m., but the place already has a valedictory vibe; everyone is exhausted after six hours in the unforgiving sun, the point has been made, and now it's Sunday-afternoon-coming downtime. A Mexican American man in a cowboy hat softly sings the classic mariachi song 'Hermoso Carino.' He finishes singing and I ask him what the song means. 'It's about a love that knows no limits,' he tells me. The cowboy reaches into a paper bag he's carrying and hands me a pan dulce, a sugar-dusted pastry. 'Take care of yourself.' I'm about two bites in when a girl, no more than 14, walks over to me after having an urgent conversation in Spanish with a friend. 'You're going to want to move. The police are moving in on both sides. If you stay here you're gonna get arrested.' I think she is pranking an old gringo for a moment, but then sirens blare and a dozen police cars and SUVs screech into position. I run a block east to Alameda and Aliso just before a couple of dozen LAPD officers with shields and sticks block off the street. I double back about 50 feet and try to see what is happening when a cop shouts at me, 'Get the fuck back.' I stand on the corner in the broiling sun with a few other confused protesters. A man I'd seen before stands by a blue cooler. I ask him if he has any water left. 'No, but there's a lot of ice in there, just rub it on your face and neck.' I reach in and pull out a chunk of ice about the size of a baseball. Another cop shouts. 'Hey!' I don't understand for a moment, and then I realize he thinks I might use the ice as a projectile. I drop it on the ground and it melts away. Whether by design or coincidence, the police have blocked off the streets to a point where you can't really see what is happening more than a hundred feet away. I make my way up to Arcadia and Los Angeles, about a block and a half away from the front of the federal building. I watch a brave or stupid man step into the faces of the riot police and film them up close. And then it happens. The now familiar sound of disorienting flash-bang grenades and the 'pop-pop' sound of tear-gas canisters being launched. It's still unclear what precipitated the police moving in — later the LAPD will say bottles were being thrown at their people and a 4 p.m. dispersal order had been issued. No one I know heard the dispersal order. One thing is clear. My eyes are burning as the tear gas cloud crosses the overpass above 101 to where I'm standing. I move back a block and pour water on my eyes. I text my wife that I'm OK, but my phone battery is about to die. Things go quiet, and I fish out a five-dollar bill and buy some vanilla paleta, a Mexican frozen treat somewhere between ice cream and gelato. I take a couple of bites and turn to tell the guy how good it is, but he has vanished. It takes a few seconds to realize the police are moving onto the block, and police horses appear seemingly out of the ether. Everyone sprints down Main Street past the gorgeous mosaic windows of La Iglesia de Nuestra Señora la Reina de los Ángeles — Our Lady Queen of Angels Catholic Church — a two-century-old Spanish mission. After a few minutes, I walk half a block back up Main Street past a few vendors. A woman is screaming at what appears to be her very frightened teenage daughter. 'Do not run. I am the only one who can protect you!' She picks up a small money box. 'We worked all day for this.' I pull out my phone to try and film the police up ahead, but the older woman's eyes flash and she throws her hands up to block her face. I say I'm sorry. By now it's 5:30 and all I want to do is figure a way around the police lines and back to my hotel. I retreat to go forward and end up at the corner of Cesar Chavez and North Main. It seems calmer and tired protesters chatter in Spanish, their protest signs bent and folded after a day of marching. Then it happens again, but worse. Sirens blare and there's a seemingly endless line of motorized police and National Guard vehicles, including six or seven oversize black SUVs, each with eight heavily soldiers hanging on from the outside. No one knows which way to run, and it becomes a human stampede. People are screaming, and a mom tucks a small girl in a blue Hello Kitty T-shirt under her arm and looks for a safe place. I freeze in place, still stupidly holding my cup of paleta. I then sprint across Chavez down Main Street toward the steps of the Metro Plaza Hotel. I'm in the middle of the street when, for the second time in an hour, a cop points his stick toward me. 'Get the fuck out of here.' There's a few more minutes of chaos and flash-bangs going off. Then it goes quiet. Shaking, I begin the walk back to my hotel. And I wonder how people live with this fear every day of their lives. And then I wonder how a government can do this to their people. And I want to break something, anything. I get back to my room and turn on the television. The president is in Washington, D.C., watching tanks and soldiers with rifles pass him by. The man who never served salutes and smiles. Yesterday, Trump made it explicit that this is just the beginning. He railed on Truth Social that deportation efforts would be ratcheted up in Los Angeles, Chicago, and New York. Why? If you have been paying attention you will not be surprised. 'These, and other such Cities, are the core of the Democrat Power Center, where they use Illegal Aliens to expand their Voter Base, cheat in Elections, and grow the Welfare State, robbing good paying Jobs and Benefits from Hardworking American Citizens.' None of that is true, but the question of who benefits has been answered. More from Rolling Stone Trump Mobile Is the First Family's Latest Effort to Cash In on the White House Nezza Says She Sang National Anthem in Spanish at Dodger Stadium Against Team's Request Trump Nixed Israeli Plan to Assassinate Iran's Supreme Leader: Report Best of Rolling Stone The Useful Idiots New Guide to the Most Stoned Moments of the 2020 Presidential Campaign Anatomy of a Fake News Scandal The Radical Crusade of Mike Pence
CNN
16 minutes ago
- CNN
Lunch bags left behind: The ICE raid in Nebraska that shocked officials and split families
Rina Salado's coworkers had just popped confetti. They surprised her with the news that she'd been promoted to supervisor at the credit card manufacturing plant where she's worked for nearly three years. Her team asked her for a photo so they could blow it up and post it on the wall with her new title. Elated and overwhelmed, Salado, 25, ran outside to her car to retrieve a photo on her phone and call her family. She couldn't wait to share her big update. But then her world stopped. She saw a stream of missed calls and voicemails from her mother. A barrage of texts from her family members. A wide range of people trying to alert Salado that her mother had been detained. Her mom, Rina Ramirez, had been swept up that morning by immigration officials in a raid at Glenn Valley Foods, a meatpacking plant cross town in Omaha — the largest worksite enforcement operation in the state since President Donald Trump was inaugurated in January. Salado called her mom right away, and to her surprise, she answered. She was in a room with other employees at the plant where she'd worked for 13 years, surrounded by armed federal agents with their faces covered, but still able to use her phone. 'My mom said, 'Take care of yourself, take care of your sister. Immigration is here. I don't know what will happen,'' Salado told CNN, describing the conversation. Salado returned to her coworkers in tears. She told them she had to go and walked out bawling, with no explanation. 'I didn't even clock out. I just left,' she said. She raced to her mother's home to be with her father and younger sister. 'I don't know how fast I was driving, but I felt I couldn't drive fast enough.' Salado's mother was one of more than 70 workers detained by US Immigration and Customs Enforcement last Tuesday. Salado said her mom, a Mexican national, has been in the US for 25 years, working and raising a family, and never even receiving a speeding ticket. Many of those detained from the plant could be charged on various issues including misuse of visas, illegal reentry, resisting arrest, and misuse of social security numbers, according to federal authorities. That morning, news of the raid spread fast. Immigrant rights groups followed through on plans they'd made after Trump won his second term in November. About a dozen organizations formed Omaha Rapid Response, arranging legal support and private 'safe spaces' for families to meet up. The coalition had also raised money to help families with things like rent, supplies and childcare when a family's principal breadwinner is taken into custody. Juan Carlos Garcia, director of Hispanic outreach at the Missionary Society of St. Columban, said their work was not finished. 'There will be more raids. We have to adjust to what ICE is doing,' he said. 'We have to be tactical as well.' Even those without a close connection to the raid were frightened. Some businesses in South Omaha immediately shut down upon learning that ICE was in town, according to residents. A library and a community college closed their doors due to 'public safety concerns.' One day after the raid, city officials cited reports from employers in the region's construction, food and agriculture industries, saying many of their workers didn't show up. Some students didn't arrive for summer school. It was like a 'shockwave' of fear, said Lina Traslaviña Stover, executive director of Heartland Workers Center, a group that's been educating workers on their rights. At a news conference on Wednesday, the city's mayor said the raid created 'chaos.' Attorneys and legal groups learned Thursday night that 63 of those in custody, including Salado's mother, were transported to North Platte, Nebraska — nearly 300 miles away. So far, Salado's mother has only been charged with a civil immigration violation of being in the US without authorization, her attorney told CNN on Monday. She has a bond hearing scheduled in Omaha next month. Another 11 were deported or sent to other locations for processing, according to the Center for Immigrant and Refugee Advancement in Omaha. For much of last week, attorneys were unable to speak to those in detention, raising concern about due process and representation, they said. On Thursday, Olga Lorenzo Palma got a surprising phone call from her husband, who'd been taken during the raid along with her brother, and she learned that he had already been deported to Mexico. She said she still hasn't heard any update on her brother. Lorenzo Palma said her husband worked at the meat packing plant for two years. 'It was the worst day of my life,' Lorenzo Palma said, while sobbing. 'They have left me destroyed.' The couple's 1-year-old girl is too young to understand but their 6-year-old daughter has been asking why their father hasn't come home from work yet. 'I tell her he went to work someplace else and that he will be back for us soon,' Lorenzo Palma said. Her husband signed paperwork for immediate deportation, Lorenzo Palma said. He told her on the phone call that immigration agents had told him he was facing charges of identity theft, and that even if he spent a lot of money on lawyers, he would likely end up being deported anyway. 'The suffering is too great,' Lorenzo Palma said. 'You fight it, and you get deported anyway is what he told me.' It was a typical morning at Glenn Valley Foods when a group of federal agents showed up at the front entrance, around 9 a.m. Men wearing tactical vests and camouflage neck gaiters over their faces approached the front door with a battering ram, but set it down on the ground, as seen in edited video released by ICE. They knocked on the door, and a stunned plant manager let them in, according to company president, Chad Hartmann. The agents served the company with a federal warrant, then began searching the property — a process that Hartmann called 'extremely uncomfortable.' 'It was a complete surprise to us. We had no idea this was going to happen,' Hartmann told CNN. Despite the Department of Homeland Security's crackdown on immigration this year, Hartmann said he never thought Glenn Valley would be in the mix. He was using DHS' own system, E-Verify, to vet his workers. E-Verify allows employers to check an individual's eligibility to work in the US. 'We are not like other companies,' he said. 'There are some companies that do not E-Verify.' In a statement, the office of US Rep. Don Bacon, a Republican whose district includes Omaha, said it confirmed with ICE that Glenn Valley Foods complied with E-Verify and was not being charged with a crime, describing the company as 'a victim in this as well.' As the agents spread out across the facility last Tuesday, many employees scattered into hiding spots, some reportedly taking cover in a freezer. First responders could be seen tending to those workers and warming their hands, according to the edited video released by ICE. In another clip, a federal agent draped a space blanket around a person's shoulders. Agents coaxed people out from large storage areas, demanding to see their hands. They walked past tables with large slabs of red meat and wrangled workers into a cafeteria. The video also showed agents escorting workers to a white bus with their hands bound with handcuffs and zip ties. Local law enforcement officials cooperated with federal requests to block certain streets and create a perimeter around the facility. When word spread of an ICE operation, concerned community members began showing up. Some people arrived with legal documents for their friends or family members, according to Sara Schulte-Bukowinski, a faith leader who came to the plant and held up a sign that read, 'We are friends of the immigrants.' 'People were just clearly upset and not able to get in contact with their loved ones,' she said. 'They were just kind of frantic, wanting to get information.' All told, about a dozen state and federal law enforcement agencies were on the scene. As they started to depart later in the afternoon, the Flatwater Free Press captured video of three people trying to stop a black SUV from driving away. Hartmann, the company's president, said only 30% of his workforce came to work the next day. The rest had either been detained or were too scared to return. With dwindled resources, the plant – which processes beef, pork and chicken for restaurant chains and grocery stores — could only operate at 20% capacity, he said. 'These are wonderful people that I've had a chance to work with over the years that now aren't going to work here anymore because of what happened,' he said of those detained. 'And not knowing or expecting that — it's like losing somebody you care about. It's out of your control. It's very uncomfortable. It's unfortunate. It saddens me.' Officials and residents say the fear is palpable across Omaha's immigrant community and those with ties to it. Ally, a 21-year-old citizen who's afraid to use her last name because she's worried for undocumented family members, said eight of her aunts and uncles were detained in the Glenn Valley Foods raid and other recent ICE incidents. She said she's been picking up groceries for her remaining family members who worry that if they go to their local Mexican grocery store, they won't come back. 'They've just been staying home for fear of anything happening to them and being torn apart from their families.' Ally grew emotional thinking about her large family cookouts and parties suddenly shrinking. 'We've always hung out together and to think that in the future, half of them would be gone or maybe none of them would be here at all is just very scary to think about.' On the border with Iowa, Omaha is one of the largest cities in this part of the country that relies heavily on immigrant workers in the agricultural and food industries, particularly pork and dairy producers. Nebraska farms were part of a large, multistate ICE raid during the first Trump administration in 2018. And in another large-scale raid across six states in 2006, known as Operation Wagon Train, more than 250 people were detained at a meatpacking plant in Grand Island, Nebraska. Still, the June 10 raid in Omaha — in the face of protests in Los Angeles against the administration's deportation push — rattled a community in this corner of Nebraska and raised fear to new levels, officials said. 'Family members were not expecting to have their spouses and mothers disappear,' said Roger Garcia, a Douglas County commissioner. 'That's how it leads towards trauma in the wider community. Nobody expected this to happen when they were just going to work.' The incident hit close to home for Garcia. His wife's aunt was among those detained at the plant, someone who's worked here for decades and raised her family here, he said. 'She definitely does not fit the profile of a high-level criminal or criminal of any kind,' he said. 'She's just somebody that went to work on Tuesday morning and got caught up in all this.' Last Tuesday afternoon, after her mother was taken from Glenn Valley Foods to a DHS holding facility, Rina Salado went to the plant to pick up her mother's pink lunch bag. She spotted it in a photo that went viral, showing a table full of lunch containers left behind. Salado said after she came home from her 12-hour shift, her mom would make fresh tortillas every night. 'I feel so guilty even sleeping on a bed,' Salado said. 'I don't know where they have her sleeping. I feel like I'm not able to enjoy things because I don't know where she is. I don't know in what kind of conditions they have her. I just worry about her.' Salado was a child when she was brought to the US and is protected from deportation through the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals program initiated by the Obama administration. But as a DACA recipient, leaving the country is risky and not allowed without meeting strict criteria. She was last with her mother on June 8, two days before the raid, when she sat at the dinner table for an hour to catch up with her parents. She fears that might have been — unknowingly — their final time together. 'I can't go to Mexico. She can't come here,' she said. 'I don't know what's next.'
