Welcome to DU!
The truly grassroots left-of-center political community where regular people, not algorithms, drive the discussions and set the standards.
Join the community:
Create a free account
Support DU (and get rid of ads!):
Become a Star Member
Latest Breaking News
Editorials & Other Articles
General Discussion
The DU Lounge
All Forums
Issue Forums
Culture Forums
Alliance Forums
Region Forums
Support Forums
Help & Search
ICE Watch
Are you here for the knitting club?” a voice in the parking lot asked.
It was pitch-black out—not even a suggestion of dawn streaked the sky above. But the Wilmington Rec Center was suspiciously crowded with cars. It was not yet 6 in the morning, and the cars were not empty. Doors opened and shut, and people began to emerge, gathering into a semicircle. Still more cars crept into the lot and their headlights exposed a growing rank of silhouettes before the engines were killed and the lights cut and more people got out and joined.
I was not prepped on this passcode, the challenge everyone had to pass, and so I faltered: “I’m a journalist, with, uh, Slate magazine. I think you guys knew I was coming?”
I was not the only new “recruit”—there was David, in plaid pants, plus two friends of an existing member, who needed no introduction, as they had someone to vouch for them. The guy who I was there to meet, who was going to vouch for me, was a late no-show.
This was Friday morning, and the Harbor Area Peace Patrol, a group in Los Angeles’ South Bay that monitors and tails U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement, which happens to have one of its most important operations in the country headquartered just a few miles away, was getting ready for rounds.
First they were onboarding the plebes. Everyone had a nickname, or a call sign, or a handle from the group chat. No one was who they said they were.
It was pitch-black out—not even a suggestion of dawn streaked the sky above. But the Wilmington Rec Center was suspiciously crowded with cars. It was not yet 6 in the morning, and the cars were not empty. Doors opened and shut, and people began to emerge, gathering into a semicircle. Still more cars crept into the lot and their headlights exposed a growing rank of silhouettes before the engines were killed and the lights cut and more people got out and joined.
I was not prepped on this passcode, the challenge everyone had to pass, and so I faltered: “I’m a journalist, with, uh, Slate magazine. I think you guys knew I was coming?”
I was not the only new “recruit”—there was David, in plaid pants, plus two friends of an existing member, who needed no introduction, as they had someone to vouch for them. The guy who I was there to meet, who was going to vouch for me, was a late no-show.
This was Friday morning, and the Harbor Area Peace Patrol, a group in Los Angeles’ South Bay that monitors and tails U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement, which happens to have one of its most important operations in the country headquartered just a few miles away, was getting ready for rounds.
First they were onboarding the plebes. Everyone had a nickname, or a call sign, or a handle from the group chat. No one was who they said they were.
https://slate.com/business/2025/10/donald-trump-immigration-ice-raids-arrests-la.html
3 replies
= new reply since forum marked as read
= new reply since forum marked as read
just toggle javascript...
Firefox addon for desktop makes it easy.
One addon seems to help with CAPTCHAs.
"The internet is one tough town"
Some days I feel like disabling javascript globally. Messes up DU something awful though. 