Stella Carlson never imagined that an ordinary drive would pull her into a moment that would ripple across the nation. On January 24, heading toward a Minneapolis church for a children’s event, she heard the sharp whistles that had become a warning signal in her neighborhood. In recent weeks, ICE and Border Patrol activity had intensified, and residents used whistles to alert one another when federal agents appeared. Still shaken by the earlier killing of Renee Good, Carlson knew that each whistle meant danger nearby. She slowed, then saw a convoy of federal vehicles converging on civilians, agents shouting, and people scrambling to get away. At the center stood a man she did not yet know, calmly guiding others from harm.
As the scene escalated, Carlson saw someone pinned to the ground by agents and another officer smashing a car window as it reversed. A man directing traffic caught her eye and motioned her to park. She complied without thinking. Only later would she learn his name was Alex Pretti, that he was armed, and that she was about to record his final moments. At the time, she saw only a composed figure trying to keep people safe amid chaos.
Carlson stepped out with her phone, following habits many residents had adopted: keep distance, stay alert, and record. After Renee Good’s death, trust had evaporated. Cameras had become a shield against distorted narratives. Carlson had no intention of interfering, but she believed documentation mattered. Someone needed to witness what unfolded.
She described Pretti as calm and deliberate, helping a woman who had been knocked down. From just a few feet away, Carlson saw no aggression or threat. She did not know he carried a firearm and never saw him reach for one. To her, he looked like another civilian trying to help and observe.
The situation collapsed in seconds. Agents rushed Pretti, slammed him to the ground, and wrestled him into submission. Carlson saw an officer remove a gun from Pretti’s holster, making clear it had not been drawn. Then shots rang out. She watched his body react to the bullets and knew instantly he would not survive.
What followed disturbed her deeply. Agents cut his clothes, moved his body, and handled him with what she felt was cold detachment. When officials later claimed Pretti had threatened them, Carlson rejected the framing. Her video showed otherwise. She called what she saw an assassination, not a mistake, and her footage ensured the truth could not be erased.