Minneapolis's streets, once his childhood courts, now echo with tragedy. Chet Holmgren shares his deep heartache over hometown violence and the pursuit of peace.
Chet Holmgren, the towering forward from Minneapolis, Minnesota, has long carried his hometown with him, whether it was the neighborhood courts where he honed his game or the community that celebrated his rise to the NBA. But this winter, Minneapolis has been in the national spotlight for reasons far different from basketball, and Holmgren’s reflections capture both the personal and communal anguish many feel.
In recent weeks, Minneapolis has been rocked by controversy and protest after a series of deadly encounters between federal immigration enforcement agents and local residents. On January 24, 2026, 37 year old intensive care nurse Alex Pretti was shot and killed by agents from U.S. Customs and Border Protection as part of a broader immigration enforcement operation known as “Operation Metro Surge” in the Twin Cities.
Pretti, a licensed ICU nurse who worked at the Minneapolis VA Health Care System and had no significant criminal history, was filming and observing the operation when the confrontation occurred. The exact circumstances remain under review, but video evidence and local reporting have fueled intense public scrutiny and outrage over the use of force.
Pretti’s death was the second fatal shooting involving federal agents in Minneapolis this month, following the shooting of Renee Good earlier in January during another enforcement action. The incidents have ignited protests across the city, amplified political debate, and heightened distrust between many residents and federal authorities.
For Holmgren, the pain of seeing violence unfold in his hometown has cut especially deep. A Minneapolis native, he says he has a vivid personal connection to the neighborhoods now at the center of national headlines.
In his words:
“That’s a very loaded topic, obviously. I don’t want to get into the opinion and politics of everything. I definitely just want to send wishes to everybody up there who’s been affected. I have a lot of friends, family, neighbors, especially close in that area. My parents’ house is three blocks from where the latest incident happened.
I know that area well. My sisters would always get donuts at the donut shop on that street. My grandma’s favorite Greek restaurant is on that street. It’s all very close. Seeing that happen definitely takes you back. You never want to see anything like that happen.”
Holmgren’s connection to Minneapolis is not just geographical but emotional. For him, the streets where he grew up are more than dots on a map, they are the fabric of his family’s life, filled with memories of everyday routines and local landmarks. That personal history frames his response to recent events.
He continued:
“I definitely think we’re too advanced as a species, just plain and simple, for things like that to be happening. No matter what your opinions are or what your beliefs are, you should be able to agree that nobody needs to be dying on the street. I wasn’t there.
I don’t have a full picture of everything going on. I can’t really speak on the details and what happened and what transpired. I just feel for the families of anybody who’s lost their life up there. I’m wishing safety for everybody.”
Holmgren’s words reflect a sense of collective humanity rather than political division. Acknowledging that he doesn’t have full insight into the specifics of the incidents, he nonetheless underscores a shared hope that communities can find safety and peace even amid deep disagreements.
His insistence on compassion over conflict is a reminder of how personal loss, especially in one’s home community, can transcend political divides.
The broader discussions around immigration enforcement and federal roles in local policing have only intensified since Pretti’s death. Calls for investigations, accountability, and policy reform have heightened, and local leaders are navigating how to balance public safety, federal responsibility, and community trust.
In Minneapolis, these debates are not happening in abstraction; they are unfolding on streets familiar to residents like Holmgren and thousands of others who call the city home.
For many in Minneapolis, the death of Alex Pretti is a moment of profound sorrow and a catalyst for demanding clarity and change. Holmgren’s perspective, rooted in personal connection, empathy, and a desire for collective well-being, captures a sentiment shared by many who want healing and justice, not further loss.
In a city defined by diversity, resilience, and community spirit, the hope remains that voices like Holmgren’s, voices that call for understanding, unity, and safety for all, will hopefully help guide Minneapolis through its most challenging times.