Thursday, June 11, 2026

The People on a Bridge Say No!

For the past year and more, there have been dozens and dozens of highway bridges and street corners in the Twin Cities where people show up weekly to protest the Trump regime and what it’s doing to this country. I’ve been participating in one of them since last summer.

We stand during rush hour on a noisy bit of concrete that arches over an urban freeway. We hold long banners with messages in large letters, readable from a distance, created by the person who started the bridge brigade, plus a variety of other signs and flags that people bring with them.

We wave at the drivers going past below us, many of whom honk or flash their lights in return. We celebrate when semi drivers blare their air horns. 

There are about 20 regulars on the bridge, almost all retired, and several over 80 years old. It’s hard for any of us to talk to more than one other person at a time as we line up in a row facing traffic because the vehicles are so loud. The traffic also creates a wind-tunnel effect, which always makes it at least 10°F colder than elsewhere. Yes, we were out there all winter, too. 


We don’t come out to the bridge because it’s comfortable. Why do we do it? Who are we?

I began to think about documenting this place and these people, to record one piece of the resistance to the fascist Trump regime: who we are, and why we’re doing what we’re doing. 

It makes me angry that I have to anonymize this and don’t even feel comfortable saying which bridge it is, because a violent right-winger stabbed a person at a different local bridge brigade last fall. 

But know this: the full record exists, and if it’s ever safe to keep it in a Minnesota state archive, it will be available. One small example of the resistance that exists in this country. 

Who we are

Of the 20 people I interviewed, there are 13 women and seven men (my assumption about genders). Six are from Minnesota originally and grew up in the state. Four are from states close by. There are two immigrants, both who experienced repressive governments in their countries of origin. The other eight are originally from many different parts of the U.S., though all have been in the Twin Cities for at least 15 years except maybe one.

The University of Minnesota was by far the main reason people came to the Twin Cities from out of state, either for education or a job, followed by coming here for a job or school elsewhere — whether for self, a parent, or a spouse. 

I did the interviews on the first anniversary of the bridge brigade. It began in early June 2025, when the founder of the brigade saw two women on the bridge, one wearing an Uncle Sam costume. They had a boom box and were dancing. They told her they would be out there the same day the next week at 7:30 a.m. for an hour, so she went to the bridge to meet them then, carrying her grandfather’s World War II veteran’s flag and a sign that said ENOUGH in large letters:



But they weren’t there — she was alone! Her husband came by after a half hour and stayed for the rest of the hour. This was the week before the Hortmans and Hoffmans were shot at their homes by the right-wing murderer Vance Boelter. 

After that, she let her neighbors know what she was doing, and the gathering has grown from there. She began making banners a month or so later. Some of her closest neighbors were the first to join and still are part of it, and many of the people come from the surrounding neighborhood, but not all. 



Why we do it

There are common threads in the reasons the regulars give for coming to the bridge:

  • “I have to do something: your nervous system gets so wired.”
  • “This is something I can do.” “There’s so little we can do at our age.” (The bridge is close by and physically accessible.) “I can’t run if I protest in the streets – my hips and knees, I can’t get away.”
  • Don’t obey in advance. Make your voice heard. “Heather Cox Richardson says visibility has real power.”
  • To spread awareness: “Give the people who go past something to think about, have conversations at work.”
  • It gives permission to other people.
  • “To be in community with like-minded people.” “It’s selfish, but it helps me deal with it to be with like-minded people.” “To be part of a community resisting Trump, a critical mass.”

More specific reasons:

  • “My husband’s aunt was in a prison camp during World War II, and was sent home in winter, wearing only a summer dress. The least I can do is put on a frog costume and stand on an overpass once a week. Another friend was born in a Chinese prison camp in 1941 and lived there until 1943.”
  • One person was visiting his adult son in Europe from Christmas through January, including when Renee Good was killed, and seeing it happen from there was shocking. Another of his sons is a nurse at the VA hospital and knew Alex Pretti.
  • “I hate authoritarian regimes. I experienced one and suffered from it as a child.”
  • “Being here is a tribute to the people of Minneapolis.”

In addition to opposing ICE and Metro Surge, specific issues that were mentioned:

  • “Every day this administration does something that should cause people to be out in the streets. My head is going to explode every day.”
  • “I am a scientist by trade. The pancreatic cancer breakthrough recently announced is based on 50 years of basic science research [which they are gutting].” He also gave the example of the recent removal of ocean censors and the regime’s graft and corruption.
  • “The undermining of democracy, Project 2025.”
  • “I’m mad about the corruption.”



What people bring

Signs:

  • Long, handmade banners, usually three 6-foot panels wide. Each week they carry a different message, ranging from "Democracy Needs Your Vote" to "Orange Lies Matter" to "Time for the 25th" to "GOP Sold Us Out," and more. For many weeks, there was an Epstein files counter. 
  • Peace
  • Stop the criminal war regime
  • Close the Camps – VOTE (sign made with tape and pins on a flattened popup tent)
  • Keep Hope Alive
  • No Kings
  • ICE Out Now (these signs were given away at a Minnesota Timber Wolves game)
  • Stop the Lies

Flags:

  • A large hand-painted hand to wave up high, carrying a small American flag
  • American flags
  • Minnesota state flag: “It’s a symbol of our unified resistance, because Minnesota has been targeted."

Wearables:

  • Hand-lettered shirt: “Trump steals from you”
  • Inflated frog suit
  • A large hand for waving, printed from a photograph of a hand

Intangibles:

  • Enthusiasm
  • Yourself
  • Energy
  • Solidarity

Reality:

  • A chair to sit in because of a bad knee



We’ll be back out next week, and the next, until this regime is history, when we’ll be working on the reconstruction this country will need. Then we won’t have time for the bridge brigade. 

As one of the banners today said: ONE YEAR – STILL HERE. 

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