Eyewitness Report from Washington DC in the ICE and Snow
The area in front of the White House used to be a busy place. No more. How different the Washington of today is from the one I remember, and it’s not just the climate. Yesterday, several of us headed to the White House to show our signs protesting the ICE madness, and to talk to the tourists who were passing by. It was extremely cold by D.C. standards, in the low twenties, with immense slabs of ice-capped snow along the roads. The sidewalks were mostly shoveled, but there were mini-mountains of snow and ice to clamber over at almost all the intersections.
These days, a phalanx of huge security vehicles blocks Pennsylvania Avenue completely. There’s a guard box to screen pedestrians, who are channeled through movable barriers, and another heavily armed guard who told us we couldn’t come in. He didn’t smile or return my greeting. Big white guy, maybe in his thirties, hands concealed, a wide stance.
“We just want to show our signs,” I said. “Can we do that at Lafayette Park?” It is directly across the street from the White House.
“It’s closed. They’re repairing the fountain.” He thought again. “You could go to H Street.” So we did that, and ended up on the far edge of Lafayette Park. A huge chain link fence, at least ten feet high loomed over us. It encloses the entire square block of the park. Again, a guard station at the corner. The sidewalk on the open side of the fence was, even by my standards, almost impassable, slushy packed down snow that had not been cleared at all.
Did they really have to cut off the entire park to repair a fountain? And who repairs a fountain in winter anyway? We did manage to take a few pictures of ourselves to post, and talked to an English couple who could relate to “See you at Nuremburg,” and “Stop Trump’s ICE Cruelty.” We later discovered there was an indentation in the fence farther along where perhaps a dozen people were taking pictures, but that was all.
No doubt the cold was a factor, but the eager American tourist visiting the Nation’s Capitol was not to be seen.
Similarly, Union Station – once a hub of activity, thriving businesses and floods of people dining and enjoying that elegant space – was somber when we arrived on Saturday early evening, just ahead of the big storm. We hadn’t been there five minutes when we saw the first group of four National Guards from who knows where, three big guys and one big woman, decked out in camouflage with weaponry I don’t even like to think about. In that relatively quiet station, we saw three more such groups before we reached the subway, mostly just chatting with each other but even so! It does feel like a military occupation even here.
The execution of Alex Pretti hit us in the gut. Not that it’s morally worse than the other killings and deaths in detention. But ten bullets at point blank range, after disarming him? The Orwell quote which has been circulating seems so apt, “The party told you to reject the evidence of your eyes and ears. It was their final, most essential command.” Even though our first instinct was to get into the streets, we really could not leave the house. Inches of ice fell on top of the snow, and there was no plowing of secondary roads for some time. Marooned by the storm for several days, we attended a couple of excellent zoom trainings on how to protect our neighbors.
Yesterday at dusk, we headed to the vigil for Alex Pretti at the headquarters of the Veterans Administration, his employer. It’s just a few blocks from the White House. Police cars cut off the whole block, and it was almost full of people with candles and lights. It was a solemn, orderly crowd with almost no police in sight. My partner joined the people on the edge holding her sign, which was photographed many times, and I roamed around to take pictures. One of the most important was a list of all the people who have died in ICE custody in 2025 and 2026.
The area in front of the White House used to be a busy place. No more. How different the Washington of today is from the one I remember, and it’s not just the climate. Yesterday, several of us headed to the White House to show our signs protesting the ICE madness, and to talk to the tourists who were passing by. It was extremely cold by D.C. standards, in the low twenties, with immense slabs of ice-capped snow along the roads. The sidewalks were mostly shoveled, but there were mini-mountains of snow and ice to clamber over at almost all the intersections.
These days, a phalanx of huge security vehicles blocks Pennsylvania Avenue completely. There’s a guard box to screen pedestrians, who are channeled through movable barriers, and another heavily armed guard who told us we couldn’t come in. He didn’t or return my greeting. Big white guy, maybe in his thirties, hands concealed, a wide stance.
“We just want to show our signs,” I said. “Can we do that at Lafayette Park?” It is directly across the street from the White House.
“It’s closed. They’re repairing the fountain.” He thought again. “You could go to H Street.” So we did that, and ended up on the far edge of Lafayette Park. A huge chain link fence, at least ten feet high loomed over us. It encloses the entire square block of the park. Again, a guard station at the corner. The sidewalk on the open side of the fence was, even by my standards, almost impassable, slushy packed down snow that had not been cleared at all. Did they really have to cut off the entire park to repair a fountain? And who repairs a fountain in winter anyway? We did manage to take a few pictures of ourselves to post, and talked to an English couple who could relate to “See you at Nuremburg,” and “Stop Trump’s ICE Cruelty.” We later discovered there was an indentation in the fence farther along where perhaps a dozen people were taking pictures, but that was all. No doubt the cold was a factor, but the eager American tourist visiting the Nation’s Capitol was not to be seen.
Similarly, Union Station – once a hub of activity, thriving businesses and floods of people dining and enjoying that elegant space – was somber when we arrived on Saturday early evening, just ahead of the big storm. We hadn’t been there five minutes when we saw the first group of four National Guards from who knows where, three big guys and one big woman, decked out in camouflage with weaponry I don’t even like to think about. In that relatively quiet station, we saw three more such groups before we reached the subway, mostly just chatting with each other but even so! It does feel like a military occupation even here, where they aren’t assaulting anybody.
The execution of Alex Pretti hit us in the gut. Not that it’s morally worse than the other killings and deaths in detention. But ten bullets at point blank range? And the lying afterward has been not just despicable but right out of the authoritarian playbook. The Orwell quote which has been circulating seems so apt, “The party told you to reject the evidence of your eyes and ears. It was their final, most essential command.” Even though our first instinct was to get into the streets, we really could not leave the house. Inches of ice fell on top of the snow, and there was no plowing of secondary roads for some time. Marooned by the storm for several days, we attended a couple of excellent zoom trainings on how to prepare for ICE to protect our neighbors.
Yesterday at dusk, we headed to the vigil for Alex Pretti at the headquarters of the Veterans Administration, his employer. It’s just a few blocks from the White House. Police cars cut off the whole block, and it was almost full of people with candles and lights. It was an orderly crowd with almost no police in sight. My partner joined the people on the edge holding her sign, which was photographed many times, and I roamed around to take pictures. One of the most important was a list of all the people who have died in ICE custody in 2025 and 2026. There were little shrines with flowers and photos. Honestly, I couldn’t hear a word of the speeches, but that wasn’t the point. A man who said he was a freelancer working for Reuters interviewed me, but it’s hard to know how genuine that was. But it did give me a chance to say that nobody, of any political persuasion, wants a lawless police state where anonymous thugs are running amok and killing anyone they choose with impunity just because they feel like it.
At long, long last, the Democrats seem to be holding firm on at least some restrictions on this madness. Why did it take so long? If I think too long about that question, I won’t be able to live here any more.
As we waited for the Lyft to take us home from the subway, a man saw our cardboard portfolio.
“Do you have protest signs in there?” he wanted to know. We said yes. “Thank you for going,” he said.
I’m going to try to remember to say that more often to the people who show up on the days when I can’t. It meant something to us.
Let’s keep on keeping on.
At long, long last, the Democrats seem to be holding firm on at least some restrictions on this madness. Why did it take so long? If I think too long about that question, I won’t be able to live here any more.
As we waited for the Lyft to take us home from the subway, a man saw our cardboard portfolio.
“Do you have protest signs in there?” he wanted to know. We said yes. “Thank you for going,” he said.
I’m going to try to remember to say that more often to the people who show up on the days when I can’t. It meant something to us.
Let’s keep on keeping on.