Minneapolis

This is an iHeart Podcast. Guaranteed human. I'm Drew Broussard, host of the Lit Hub Podcast. Every Friday, I take you behind the scenes at Literary Hub, chatting with staff, writers, and other literary figures about everything going on in the literary world. Find us now, anywhere you get your podcasts. Pushkin. Hello. Hi. My wife. Hi. Hi. My husband. How are you? I'm getting through. Yeah, so you wanted to talk? Um, I did. I feel like we haven't had much of a chance to connect over the last couple weeks because there's been a lot going on here. Here is Minneapolis, where I live and the epicenter of what the Trump administration is calling Operation Metro Surge. Since it all began with the regular business of work, childcare and running a household, Emily and I haven't really had a chance to sit down and actually talk. I knew she had a lot she wanted to tell me, so I asked her to start at the beginning. On Wednesday, January 7th, I had dropped Augie off at school, and I was driving down 36th, which is a one-way. There were, I don't know if it was six or eight vehicles coming directly toward me, going the wrong way down a one-way at full speed. and I really thought I was going to have a head-on collision. Then they just suddenly stopped, and then a bunch of men started running out of the cars, and they were all masked, and all the vehicles were unmarked. My brain just wasn't connecting what was happening, and then I saw two women running toward this scene with whistles. and then somewhere in my head it clicked like oh this this is an ice raid i didn't even know exactly what that meant but i just felt so clearly like something wrong is happening and so i parked and i jumped out i ran up to the building as they were all pulling away The woman who had a really little, like, five-pound dog, one of the ICE agents just swerved right at the dog. And I was really emotional because I still had a lot of adrenaline. I was coming on the one when they almost hit me. One of the women there hugged me, and she just kept saying, No, I know. I said, who do they think they are? Who do they think they are? Oh, my gosh. It's just too much. I mean, that's when everything just, like, exploded. I got home, and, you know, I had news on the background, and I saw that a woman had been shot dead. And that turned out later that this was Renee Good. and she had just dropped her kid off from school too. She was shot about 40 minutes after I had that encounter, about four blocks away. Eyes out now! I went to the vigil that night. Okay. There were a lot of people there. I think everybody there really felt an obligation to be there. While I was there, I got a text from Katie, my sister, telling me that ICE had showed up at Theo's school. Theo is our 14-year-old nephew. And that they had pepper sprayed a crowd of teachers and students. So she texted me that and then wrote, I have no idea how to process this with my child. When did I learn what ice was a thing? When did you learn that ice was a thing? I don't know. Do you remember? No. Do you? And Augie. You know, Augie's nine. And so that's been one of the really hard things here is to know what do you tell your kid. I've been trying to talk to him about it just as honestly as possible with trying to emphasize, you know, that he's safe. But even if he is safe, there's a lot of kids right now around this city his age who aren't. And that's, how do you explain that, you know? You told Augie about Renee Good? Yes. And what was that like? I first told him that a woman had been shot by ICE. then the next day julian came over and eli julian's dad said something to me about oh and you encountered them that morning in front of aggie and so then aggie was like wait what right now yeah i'm okay um but you wouldn't have stopped if i was in the car no And we talked about it for a couple of minutes. And then he said, OK, I think I think we need to stop talking about this now. And so I respected that. Stopped talking about it. So then the Thursday and Friday after Renee Good was killed, schools were canceled across the city because it just wasn't safe. I stayed home with Augie and some of his friends came over. And, you know, throughout the day we would be playing, the kids would be playing and they would just, they'd be fine. And then they would say, it's so sad. Like, this is so sad that I murdered somebody. This is what Augie's friends were saying. Yeah, yeah. And I actually have a really clear memory that day. we were working with the hot glue gun and Julian somehow cut his hand and the concern that they all just sort of rallied around him and were so worried about his hand. Julian. Yeah. He's like the Mr. Tough guy. I know. And then there was this moment after I bandaged it up that we all, and I've never had a moment with the boys like this, where we all sort of like hugged each other. The boys went for this? They allowed this? Yeah. And I do think it was just like this moment of vulnerability that we were all feeling such a weight, you know, that it just allowed us to have this moment of coming together. It was really beautiful. Wow. I mean, everything is completely overwhelming, but you still have to eat. You still have to walk the dog. And, you know, kids are still kids. That next morning, I was laying in bed and Nagi came in wearing a captain's hat and a suit jacket and started rapping about yachts. Yachts! I want one for my birthday. Yachts! I can get a cookie vacay in yachts. They're really great. It was all about going on yachts and having cookie vacays. God, I'd love a cookie vacay right now. We could all really use a cookie vacay. I want a cookie vacay in yachts. I want it for my birthday yachts. You don't need to take a bath, yachts. Tuesday. This is Tuesday the 13th, less than a week since Renee Good had been killed once again I had dropped Augie off at school and I was driving home and suddenly all these vehicles start swerving around my car And I'm a little bit boxed in, and then I started hearing the whistles, and so I decide to get out. There's ICE agents all over. They're going up to an apartment building, yelling, you've got to open up the door. and, you know, the crowd is slowly growing, but pretty quiet. And then they come out of the apartment building, and they have two guys who, to me, look like children, early 20s at the oldest, but I'd be surprised if it was even that. One of them is wearing a T-shirt and shorts, even though it's, you know, it's very cold outside. I mean, it's so cold. It's the kind of cold that, you know, you take your gloves off for a few seconds and your fingers just really hurt. Like, it is hard to be outside in this weather. Yeah. Yeah. And when we see the kids, we just start screaming, shame on you. I'm a mom. You know, like, shame on you is the word that come to mind. And we're yelling, you know, their kids. and sorry this is going to be the hardest part for me um so everything else I should just say first like everything escalated very quickly it just becomes chaos where ice agents are just pushing people shoving people kicking them you know they have them down on the ground um I can't even describe the feeling where like literally three feet from me, I see a man like just a Minneapolis guy on the ground and an agent just pepper spraying him straight in the face from three inches away. and I mean every part of you just wants to run and just like tackle that guy but you know you can't and so you just yell because what else do you do but just to stand there and see somebody brutalized like that you just feel so powerless this. So I'm standing on the corner and they're trying to get this car to go, this woman in the car. And there's nowhere she can go. I mean, it was just chaos. And they're screaming at her. There's like 15 agents, you know, just surrounding her car, screaming at her. They just broke the window. They broke the window in the car. They broke the window. All of a sudden, they break her passenger side window. Then they go around to her side and forcibly pull her out of the car. And she's screaming. And then they've just got her by all fours and start carrying her away. And then I see that they have a white-haired man that they are carrying by all fours. and they open the back door of a black SUV and literally, like, stuff him in. That's the only language I know how to use. Sorry. So they stuff him into the vehicle, and then... All right, there's class bombs all over the place. And then the first... I just hear a bunch of, like, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop. and I figure out that these are, I guess, what are flashbangs, and then smoke just starts to pour out. Smoke all over. And then it hits your throat first, and it starts to burn, and you're starting to cough, and you're like, ooh, that's strong. And then it hits your face, the skin on your face, and then your eyes start to burn. and for a second you're like oh this hurts but it's okay and then each second that passes you're just like oh it's not okay oh it's really not okay and then you're just like fucked um and then i just can't really move i'm doubled over and I grabbed a fistful of snow to put on my eyes and I can't see in any way. And then I just feel like a hand reach out for me and grabs my hand and they start to just guide me away out of the gas. And there's a guy there wearing a bandana and he says, this is my house, this is my house. it's the most minnesotan thing of all time we walk in the house none of us can even see really and he says i'm sorry it's so messy in here thank you that's much better i had a bottle of water and we're pouring it over my eyes thank you very much for the hospitality you know there's that famous mr rogers saying that when when trouble strikes look for the helpers and that's what i've always used with augie look for the helpers but you know renee good was a helper and alex preddy was a helper like they're murdering the helpers Coming up, after being shot in the leg by an ICE agent, Julio Cesar Sosa-Seliz became national news. Since then, his family has been forced into hiding. After the break, I pay them a visit. I'm Drew Broussard, host of the Lit Hub podcast. Every Friday, I take you behind the scenes at Literary Hub, chatting with staff, writers, and other literary figures about everything going on in the literary world. Find us now, anywhere you get your podcasts. One week after Rene Good and a week and three days before Alex Preddy, another person in Minneapolis was shot by ICE agents. He was at his home when it happened. He was shot in the leg. It wasn't fatal, and the incident didn't get as much media attention. The man's name was Julio Cesar Sosa Celis. He was Venezuelan, and he had no criminal record. There are different accounts of what happened that night, but in a nutshell, the federal government claims Julio had been targeted for arrest, that he fled during a car chase, and that when he was caught, he was shot by an ICE agent in self-defense. The FBI says otherwise. Their investigation determined that ICE wasn't looking for Julio at all and that he was not a part of any chase. Julio's roommate was mistaken for someone else while driving, and he got into a car chase with ICE. The roommate led the agents back to the house he and Julio shared with their partners and their babies. Eyewitnesses say the shooting wasn't self-defense, that the men were fleeing into the house when shots were fired. At the end of the night, Julio and his partner, Indriani, were arrested. But the story I want to tell isn't about the shooting itself. I want to tell the story of the family Julio and Indriani left behind what their life was like before that night and what it been like ever since So far Julio and Indriani family in Minnesota haven spoken with any journalists but it turns out I have a connection to Indriani's mom, Yemilis. It was a very tenuous connection, through friends of friends, but it was enough for me to be trusted. And so, one cold night, a week after the shooting, I text Yemilis my photo so she could identify me through the front door's small window. and I go over to talk. Hi. Hello. Hello. Baby, baby, baby. Hi. Hi, hi. Hello. Hello. Since Julio and Indriani have been incarcerated, Yemilis has been taking care of their three-year-old son, her grandson. Yemilis has been in the U.S. since 2023, but with the shooting, she fears that she and her family have become targets, even more so targets, of ICE. So she doesn't leave the house, not to grocery shop, not to go to work. She keeps the blinds drawn, the lights outside, off. She says she prays that God will just make her house invisible. I'm with my interpreter, Eric, who's not really an interpreter, but my former office mate, who works as an immigration lawyer. The house is full of life, four kids of her own, ages 9 through 14, and her three-year-old grandson, Julio and Indriani's son. Once inside, one of the kids locks the door behind us. Since the shooting, even though her children have open asylum cases and social security numbers, Yemili has kept them all home from school. Her 14-year-old, Alejandra, attends class over video. I ask her if her teachers know why she hasn't been in class. Yeah, but I didn't tell all my teachers, so my grades are going down. Oh. So I'm scared about that, too. I'm sorry. I really want to go to school again, but my mom's like, you need to stay here because the ice can't take you and things like that, you know? But I really want to go to school again. Yemilice's 10-year-old son, Javier, walks over. He has a question he wants to ask me. Yes. Oh, I wish I knew. I'm so sorry. As her partner, Danielle, makes himself dinner, and the kids come and go from the living room, Yemilice tells me about her life before all of this, why she left Venezuela for the United States in the first place. We were living hidden. My fear of returning is really strong. When I ask why that is, Yemelis just says political persecution and leaves it at that. Her daughter, Indriani, had already migrated to the U.S. and made a home for herself and her son in Minnesota. Yemelis really missed them. To see them again, she and her family embarked on a difficult journey, mostly done on foot. She and her partner, Danielle, towed four little kids across South and Central America and through Mexico. We didn't have phone. We didn't have money. I had some coins. We walked for two months. Sleeping in the street. Comiendo lo que nos podían regalar. Eating what people would give us. Caminamos mucho. We walked a lot. Pero siempre felices. But always happy. Con mucha fe. With a lot of faith. En volver a ver a mi hija y a mi nieto que ya estaban aquí. And being able to once again see my daughter and my grandson. On the way from Colombia to Panama, they pass through the incredibly dangerous rainforest known as the Darien Gap, where a lot of people have died. The Darien Gap is a roughly 60-mile stretch of rainforest. It's the only gap in the Pan-American highway. No road, not even a dirt trail. The area is filled with strong rivers, flash floods, and wild animals. There is no police. Many migrants are murdered and raped during passage. But of all the places they traveled through, Yemeliz says the parts of Mexico controlled by the cartels were the scariest. She describes how while trying to avoid the immigration authorities, her family escaped into the forest. So three armed men came kind of out of the trees. and they said, nothing's going to happen. Give us your money. Give us your phones. I said, I don't have money or phone. Yamilis gestures towards her 12-year-old daughter who's sitting on the couch. She cried because she saw the guns. and they said she better be quiet or we'll kill her. My son he was curious about the guns and they said if he looks at me again I'm going to kill him. They took all our clothes off looking forward to see if we had hidden money. When they didn't find anything They let them go. Emilis and Daniel had heard about a train that carried migrants from Mexico City to the American border. The train was referred to as La Bestia, the Beast. It's also been called the Train of Death. Passengers ride on top of freight cars. Loss of limbs, maimings, even death occur as people try to board the moving train. The family was told by other migrant travelers where to wait for the train. They waited and waited. Then comes this big train. And everyone starts cheering the train. And I saw a lot of people start running and running and running. But I said to God in that moment, God, if it's from you that we'll be up, that we'll stop. And I said to God in that moment, And God, if it's your will for us to get on this train, let it stop. Porque andando el tren, yo me puedo montar más mis hijos, no? Él se puede montar más los niños, no? Because the train moving, I could get on and my husband could get on, but the kids know. They have to jump on. Claro. Clearly. Y no podía agarrar dos niños más y el dos niños más. And I couldn't jump and grab onto the train with holding two of my children and him holding the other two. Y si me soltaban, me podía matar el tren. And if I fell, the train could kill me. When the train came to a full stop, Yamilis took it as a sign. Last car, the train. There was a ladder. And we climbed up very quick. And we passed five days on the train. On top of the train like that. Yeah, on top of the train. When we went through the streets, we sent us food or cookies. When we went through towns or villages, people would throw us food or cookies. Because we couldn't get down, because if we got down, the train could leave and we'd be stuck. That train moved us through half of Mexico. And the kids, how were they? Yeah, we tied them on. We tied the children down. One just has to say, I'm going, I'm moving forward. Through the cold at night and the heat during the day, Yamilis and her partner stayed awake, holding on to the children. Falling asleep meant running the risk of being shoved from the train, or simply falling, which could mean instant death. So for five days she hung on. No bathroom just a pot No proper food just what they could catch And no sleep In this way Yemilis spent her birthday She was turning 34 years old. The train finally stopped in Juarez. People had been killed. Children had been taken. People had had their stuff stolen. And I thank God that we were people that were very blessed. A man who saw the family get off the train offered to buy them food. Other people gave them drinks. Another man even gave them money. They all ate, and finally, walking distance from the U.S. border, they slept. In the morning, U.S. immigration admitted Yamilis and the children into the U.S. They spent the night in a border patrol tent and were given paperwork to start the asylum process. Eventually, they were placed on a bus to Chicago. Yamilis' daughter, Indriani, came to greet her. It was Yamilis' first time seeing her daughter in a year and a half. We just ran to each other and hugged, and I grabbed my grandson. He was so little. Together, they traveled back to Indriani's new home in Minnesota, where the kids enrolled in school, and eventually, Yamilis found work cleaning houses and offices. Over the years, they settled in and made a life for themselves. After the break, Yemilis tells me about her second separation from her daughter and grandson, the night of Julio's shooting. I'm Drew Broussard, host of the Lit Hub podcast. Every Friday, I take you behind the scenes at Literary Hub, chatting with staff, writers, and other literary figures about everything going on in the literary world. Find us now, anywhere you get your podcasts. Yemilis was at work when she got her daughter's frantic video call. Andriani was telling her that Ice was at the door. She was hidden with her baby in her arms, crying. And she was saying to me, Mama, if they come in, they're going to kill us. Tear gas had been thrown through the window, and so Yemilis' daughter and grandson got on the ground. They were phoning from under the bed. I can show you the video. You can hear everything. Yamilis pulls out her phone. She had recorded the call, and she shows me the video. They're going to kill us, man. I'm hearing shots. I asked where Julio and his roommate were while she was on the phone with her daughter. Turns out they were also on the phone. They were there, and they were talking to their mothers. Because in that moment, they thought that they were going to kill them. And they wanted to say goodbye to each of their mothers. Emili says that her daughter, rightfully, didn't open the door, but Ice broke the door down. While she's telling this story, a toddler runs in. He's bright-eyed and wearing a little football jersey. Is this your grandson? Si. Hi. Hello. Hello. He's saying the police took his mom. He's talking about how the bomb came through the window and they shot his dad, Julio. Bombas. Grandes. Grandes. Ah, he's talking about the, it smelled bad, the gas. It smelled ugly. It smelled bad. Did it hurt your eyes? I didn't like it. I didn't like it. They hit the door, they hit the door, hard. Emili says her grandson keeps talking about that night. He still has nightmares. He sleeps with me, and I hear when he wakes up at night crying. Mom, he's smaller. To flee political persecution from one country, the family underwent a death-defying journey to another country, only to be persecuted by that new country's government. Could you ever have imagined that it would get this bad, that it would get like this? No. Estados Unidos me parece un país bonito a beautiful country. En sus cuatro estaciones. In its four seasons. En el frío, en el calor. The cold, the heat. Me gusta más el calor. I like the heat more. That first winter, Emilis wore gloves and hats indoors. Wherever she went, she carried around a space heater that had been gifted to her. But seeing how much the kids enjoyed the snow, the winter has grown on her. I feel good here. We came to work. We came for the good of our children. Truly, you guys, next summer are invited to eat at my house. If I'm here. If everything's normal, we're going to eat really well. On Tuesday, Julio appeared in court. To counter the federal government's narrative, lawyers presented photographs showing a bullet hole through the front door of Julio's house. and a bullet hole in one of the bedrooms, between a mattress and a crib. The judge ordered Julio's release, but when Julio left the courthouse, ICE agents were waiting for him outside. He's now back in detention. Indriani was released last week. On the morning she returned, her son was still sleeping. When she woke him, he didn't recognize her at first, but then he hugged her. Now he doesn't want to leave her side. He's afraid ICE will take her again. Yamilis still hasn't left the house, and her kids have yet to return to school. This episode was produced by Emily Condon and me, Jonathan Goldstein, as well as supervising producer Stevie Lane, and senior producer, Kalila Holt. Fact-checking by Andrea Lopez Cruzado. My interpreter at Yamilis' house was Eric Day. Editorial help from Nadia Raymond. Special thanks to Melissa Redfield, Ben Nadefhaffri, and Daphne Chen. Sarah Bruguer mixed the episode with music by Emma Munger. We'll be back in your feed in a few weeks. I'm Drew Broussard, host of the Lit Hub podcast. Every Friday, I take you behind the scenes at Literary Hub, chatting with staff, writers, and other literary figures about everything going on in the literary world. Find us now, anywhere you get your podcasts. This is an iHeart Podcast. Guaranteed human.