“I won’t hesitate to break open this window and drag you out through it.”

March 11, 2026. Today we hear from a rapid responder who was harassed and threatened by ICE.

At 8:46 AM on a Wednesday, I responded to a community report that 10 ICE vehicles were staging at a park less than a mile north of my house. I circled the park and spotted a white SUV with tinted windows. They blew through a stop sign. I didn't get a view of the driver, but reckless driving is a tell. I pulled in, slowly patrolling up and down the streets. At 9:08 I saw them: four agents going door to door in full body armor. Two carelessly parked SUVs.

At 9:10 I snapped two pictures. One's so blurry, you can't even tell the car's make, probably from my hands shaking. The other one's of the vehicle I'd followed. You can read the plates, see half of an agent's face. He's telling off two men in civilian clothes with cameras.

The agents gave up, got in their cars, and headed toward the exit. I continued to follow them. They pulled off to the side of the street. I pulled off to the side of the street, trying to keep my heart rate down.

Suddenly they threw the car in reverse. Alone in my car, they were trying to make it look like I crashed into them. They stopped, I stopped. At this point, I realized I wasn't filming. I didn't have time to think about it. Too much happening all at once. I left a little more space between our vehicles. They reversed again. I reversed too, this time around a corner. They stopped. The doors opened. Two officers, full body armor, came toward the car. A clearly identifiable pepper spray can out, ready.

If I'd remembered my training, I'd have shut the air circulation off in my car.

"Open your window."

Eyes forward. Voice calm. "I won't open my window."

"You're obstructing a federal investigation."

"I'm not obstructing. It’s my right to observe."

"You get one warning. You keep following us, I won't hesitate to break open this window and drag you out through it. You understand?"

Silent. Eyes ahead. Don't give them the satisfaction of looking scared.

They went back to their car and drove away. I stayed in the car. Just breathe. This is for my neighbors.

-Jo

This testimonial was shared with author consent as part of a larger project to share real stories from people affected by the largest DHS operation in history. You can read more about this initiative and the charity it supports at storyforge.com/metrosurge.