By Brad Brooks
March 14 (Reuters) - Few federal agents are seen on the streets of Minneapolis these days.
While many of the city's residents still wear red whistles around their necks, used to sound an alert if they spot U.S. immigration agents, there has been little need to raise the alarm lately.
Although parents dutifully patrol the perimeters of school grounds for ICE agents, sightings are rare. The network of observers who follow ICE agents remains active, but on a far smaller scale than before.
Now, raids targeting undocumented migrants are mostly occurring in communities outside of the city.
Once scenes of turmoil as immigration agents carried out aggressive sweeps under President Donald Trump's immigration crackdown, the streets of Minneapolis have today settled back into a more familiar rhythm.
But everyone from Mayor Jacob Frey to teachers, doctors, lawyers, activists and immigrants who live and work in the city says the relative calm belies the lasting damage caused by Operation Metro Surge. Starting in December and running through February, about 3,000 immigration agents fanned out across the area. ICE said its immigration sweeps resulted in roughly 4,000 arrests.
"The full-throttle attack that we experienced with Operation Metro Surge was not limited just to ICE agents," Frey said, estimating 400 federal immigration officers remain in the city, more than double the normal level. "We're seeing other forms of attacks."
Frey, a Democrat, ticked through them: kids with cancer who "can't get treatment" because their families won't leave their homes; Medicaid and Medicare transfers halted by the Trump administration; and federal grants that fund shelters and affordable housing slashed or made contingent on cooperating with immigration enforcement.
Over two dozen residents who spoke with Reuters described a city trying to recover. Some are struggling to pay their rent or buy food because they have lost their jobs or remain too fearful to leave their homes. Many described a collective feeling of trauma.
'THE RIGHT THING'
It is unclear how many arrests have been made in the month since border czar Tom Homan announced the drawdown of an operation that resulted in agents fatally shooting two American citizens, Renee Good and Alex Pretti.
The Department of Homeland Security did not respond to requests for comment. When asked about the status of immigration enforcement in Minneapolis, a White House spokeswoman pointed to "cooperation that did not exist before" between local officials and the federal government, but did not provide details.
Frey said the economic damage linked to the immigration operation in January alone totals $203 million. Some 76,000 residents whom he said were too afraid to go to work or whose workplaces shut down, need rental assistance.
"People were killed. Families were torn apart. Businesses were closed," said Frey, adding that he wants the federal government to pay the bill for the damage it inflicted.
"I'm not holding my breath - but it's the right thing for them to step up and correct some of the damage that they caused," he said.
Frey hasn't spoken with anyone from the Trump administration in weeks, he said.
DOCTORS TREATING IN THE DARK
For Dr. Lane Miller, an oncologist at Children's Minnesota, a prominent pediatric hospital system, the surge's toll on his patients continues to be "catastrophic."
He cited 50% no-show rates for appointments for children with conditions like sickle cell disease or active cancer.
"They are still paralyzed with fear," Miller said of immigrant families. "We are not seeing any improvement in our clinic as far as those families feeling comfortable coming here."
"We're just living in the dark here with a lot of these patients," Miller said.
Miller said there was no shortage of alarming examples. He pointed to the case of a 14-year-old boy with leukemia whose father, his primary caregiver, was detained by ICE five weeks ago. When the boy finally came in, blood work showed he had stopped taking his medication; the distant family members staying with the boy did not understand his medical regimen or ensure he was taking his medicine.
"Even single doses that are missed two years into therapy can increase your risk of relapse," Miller said. "And a relapse is much harder to treat."
THE KIDS WHO DIDN'T COME BACK
Brenda Lewis is superintendent of Fridley Public Schools, a district of about 2,800 students where 80% of kids are from immigrant or minority families. She is now staring at a $1 million budget hole that she blames on the surge.
Nearly 100 of her students have vanished. Some moved to districts not targeted by ICE, some were deported with their families, and many she simply cannot account for. Since Minnesota funds schools based on enrollment, each missing child represents about $10,000 in lost funding. The district has also lost $130,000 in nutrition funding since December.
Lewis' district has sued the Trump administration seeking to restore a rule making schools immigration safe havens. She's now an in-demand resource for superintendents from across the nation who call her with fears of an immigration crackdown.
"None of this is something that we trained for as educators - and it feels like there is no end date to these new challenges we face," Lewis said.
FROM WHISTLES TO CASH DROPS
In the Phillips neighborhood of Minneapolis, home to a high concentration of immigrants, the visible crisis of January and February has given way to something quieter but still urgent.
Alexandria Gomez, a substitute teacher who lives in Phillips, launched a rent-relief GoFundMe for her neighbors that has raised over $730,000 since January. She delivers cash personally to families who don't trust anyone else to bring it.
A woman she visits was finally thinking about returning to work when she spotted ICE outside her building and retreated back to her apartment.
Gomez, 37, fears another surge in spring or summer. She cites scores of SUVs with blacked-out windows, the type used on immigration raids, recently delivered on car haulers to the building ICE agents use as a staging ground. Reuters witnessed the delivery of half a dozen vehicles on Wednesday.
Gomez sees some burnout among residents, but said she remains committed.
"What this attack has done is create an entire city of people who are now deeply involved in their communities and who stand ready to resist," Gomez said.
(Reporting by Brad Brooks in Minneapolis; editing by Paul Thomasch and Diane Craft)
