Warm Coffee, Cold Streets: How a Small Gesture Became Symbolic in Minnesota’s Time of Grief

In St. Paul, Minnesota, amid tense protests and bewildering grief, a scene unfolded that drew both comfort and controversy: members of the Minnesota National Guard stood calmly behind a vehicle and offered hot coffee, donuts, and even hot chocolate to people gathered — many of them upset, anxious, and shaken by recent events.
The sight of soldiers in bright yellow reflective vests passing out warm drinks and snacks wasn’t a spectacle of force. Instead, it was an unusual and human moment — one that many onlookers interpreted as an attempt to ease tension, convey support, or simply acknowledge the pain of a hurting community. In the cold January air, those simple cups and pastries carried a quiet message: someone sees you.
Why It Happened: A State Searching for Peace in Pain
The gesture took place on January 25, 2026, one day after the fatal shooting of 37-year-old Minneapolis resident Alex J. Pretti by a U.S. Border Patrol agent during a federal Department of Homeland Security operation.
Pretti’s death — which ignited widespread protests, heightened tensions, and fierce public debate — had already placed Minnesota in the national spotlight. Protesters, local residents, and advocacy groups in Minneapolis and St. Paul were still grappling with shock and grief, and many were demanding answers and accountability.
In that atmosphere, the arrival of National Guard troops was intended primarily as a stabilizing presence. Governor Tim Walz had authorized the Guard after protests intensified following Pretti’s death, deploying them to assist local authorities with public safety and crowd management in a volatile climate.
Unlike federal law enforcement officers, who were part of the DHS operation and perceived by many protesters as hostile or threatening, the Guard’s presence carried a different tone — one that was meant to invoke safety rather than force. To help with this distinction, troops wore yellow reflective vests to make it clear they were not part of federal agencies carrying out immigration enforcement.
Coffee, Donuts, and a Message of Care
Footage and eyewitness reports shared on social media show National Guard members offering warm drinks and pastries directly from the back of a vehicle, engaging with people at the protest site and nearby gathering spots.
In interviews with local media, one Guardsman described the action as a “demonstration of safety and security” — a way to convey calm and reassurance without escalating tensions. The simple act of handing out coffee or a donut, he said, was not just about food. It was about showing up on the ground in a manner that was approachable and supportive, rather than intimidating.
Many protesters and locals seemed to appreciate the gesture. Some on social platforms described the scene as warm and peaceful, emphasizing that a gesture as small as a hot drink or treat can make people feel seen and supported during difficult times.
A State of Grief and Reflection
The timing of the gesture was unmistakably tied to the broader emotional climate in Minnesota. The previous day, Alex Pretti — a nurse at the Minneapolis VA Medical Center known for his kindness, compassion, and dedication to others — was shot and killed by an ICE or Border Patrol agent. The circumstances of his death have sparked protests and national debate, with many questioning the official narrative and calling for thorough investigation and accountability.
Across Minneapolis and St. Paul, people have been trying to come to terms with that loss. Vigils, memorials, and demonstrations have continued as neighbors, friends, and strangers gather to mourn, chant for justice, and support one another physically and emotionally. Businesses near the site of the shooting opened early to offer coffee, warm spaces, and food to those enduring cold weather and long hours of protest.
Against that backdrop, the National Guard’s gesture — coffee, donuts, and hot chocolate — took on more than its simple components. It became, for some, a symbol of outreach, empathy, and even healing in a moment of heated public emotion.
Why the Guardsmen Wore Yellow Vests
One important detail that national news outlets highlighted is the reflective vests worn by the Minnesota National Guard during the distribution. Those vests were deliberately chosen so that protesters could recognize the Guard as distinct from federal law enforcement, whose uniforms often look similar to military attire.
This distinction matters in a city where federal immigration agents and Border Patrol units have been deployed and are widely seen by many protesters as part of the controversy itself. In a situation where uniforms could cause confusion or fear, the reflective vests served a dual function: practical safety (making the Guard visible and recognizable) and psychological reassurance — a visual signal that these troops were there to assist, not enforce or escalate.
Reactions: Comfort, Criticism, and Complexity
Reactions to the National Guard’s coffee-and-donuts initiative have been mixed — though sincere in their emotional complexity.
Many protesters and community members said the gesture was comforting, showing that even uniformed service members can recognize communal pain and try to offer tangible care in moments of distress. Others saw it as a heartwarming attempt to defuse tension, a reminder that amid protests and anger, the human need for connection remains strong.
Yet not everyone interpreted the scene in the same way. Some critics viewed it as symbolic but insufficient — arguing that hot drinks and snacks cannot address deeper grievances about federal enforcement practices, accountability, or systemic issues driving widespread anger. Others expressed skepticism about the optics, viewing the gesture as a public relations move rather than meaningful action.
On social media, conversations ranged from appreciation for the Guard’s attempt to build bridges to debate about what role military forces should play in civilian protests at all — especially ones tied to immigration enforcement and public trust.
The Broader Context: Grief and Unanswered Questions
The coffee and donuts appeared at a moment when Minnesota’s grief was still raw and public debate still unresolved. In the days since Alex Pretti’s death, protests have spread across the state and even nationally, as tens of thousands have marched, shouted chants for accountability, and demanded that immigration enforcement actions be reevaluated.
Memorials popped up near the site where Pretti was killed. Nearby businesses opened early or stayed open late, offering warm drinks, snacks, and shelter for those who came to pay tribute or to protest in freezing temperatures. Many mourners expressed disbelief that a man who had dedicated his life to helping others — especially veterans in the ICU — could be killed so suddenly, and they are seeking answers and transparency.

In this charged atmosphere, the image of National Guard members offering coffee and donuts stood out precisely because it was soft rather than aggressive. Where protests have seen chants, signs, and sometimes clashes with law enforcement, here was an act that simply reached out with warmth — literally and metaphorically — at a grassroots level.
A Gesture With Possible Ripple Effects
Whether the lesson of that moment persists depends on how events unfold in the coming days. For some, the scene represented an important symbolic act: that state forces recognized the humanity of people in distress and attempted to offer tangible comfort without confrontation. For others, it raised questions about how government entities can best promote safety, dialogue, and healing amid intense political and emotional tensions.
At a minimum, the coffee and donuts offered a pause — a moment of shared humanity in the midst of grief and protest — that reminded everyone present that even in pain, kindness can still be visible.
And perhaps that was the most important part: that in a time of sorrow, even the smallest gestures — a warm drink, a pastry passed gently from one hand to another — can offer comfort, spark conversation, or simply acknowledge that someone sees the pain.
