In the days leading up to the January 24, 2026, shooting that claimed the life of 37-year-old ICU nurse Alex Jeffrey Pretti, his last phone conversation with his parents was ordinary, warm, and filled with love — a moment now forever etched in their hearts with both comfort and unbearable pain.
Michael and Angela Pretti spoke publicly for the first time on January 29 in a tearful interview with local Minneapolis media, choosing to focus on the son they knew rather than the headlines that have transformed his death into a national controversy. “He said, ‘I love you,’ not ‘goodbye,’” Michael recounted, his voice breaking. “We talked about the kids, about the hospital, about how cold it was getting in Minnesota. He laughed when I teased him about his terrible snow-shoveling skills. There was no hint, no warning. Just… love.”
Alex, an intensive care nurse at a major Minneapolis hospital, was described by his parents as “the calm in the storm” — the colleague who stayed late to comfort grieving families, the father who read bedtime stories with silly voices, the son who called home every Sunday no matter how exhausted he was. “He was gentle,” Angela said. “He hated conflict. He wanted to help people feel safe, not afraid. That’s why this hurts so much — the world is painting him as something he never was.”
The shooting occurred during a protest outside a federal building against immigration enforcement operations. According to police and partial body-worn camera footage, Pretti approached officers while legally carrying a concealed handgun, ignored repeated commands to stop and show his hands, and was shot after agents perceived an imminent threat. No clear frame shows him reaching for or brandishing the weapon, but the agents’ use of force has been defended as reasonable in the chaotic environment. An internal review and external investigation are underway.
For Michael and Angela, the public narrative has been excruciating. “They’re talking about politics, about protests, about guns,” Michael said. “But they’re not talking about Alex — the man who cried when a patient died, who hugged strangers in the hallway just because they looked sad. That’s who he was. Not a symbol. Not a statistic. Our son.”
The parents revealed that Alex had become increasingly involved in advocacy in recent months, particularly around immigrant rights and healthcare equity for underserved communities — issues he encountered daily in the ICU. “He cared deeply,” Angela said. “But he was never reckless. He told us he was just there to show support for the people he worked with every day. He promised he wouldn’t do anything dangerous. We believed him.”
The couple has asked the public to remember Alex’s humanity amid the polarized debate. “We’re not here to argue politics,” Michael said. “We’re here to say our son mattered. He was kind. He was loving. And he didn’t deserve to die in the street.”
A GoFundMe established by the family to cover funeral costs and support Alex’s two young children has raised over $450,000, with donors leaving messages like “Thank you for being the nurse who held my hand when I was scared” and “Rest easy, Alex — you saved so many lives.”
As Minneapolis continues to grapple with the shooting’s aftermath — protests, calls for independent review, and questions about activist involvement — Michael and Angela Pretti’s words offer a quiet counterpoint to the noise: a father and mother mourning a son, clinging to his final “I love you,” and refusing to let controversy erase the man they raised.
In the end, the story of Alex Pretti may be defined by headlines and investigations — but for his parents, it will always be defined by love, loss, and the ordinary, everyday moments that made him irreplaceable.