Warmth in the Freezing Cold

Hate the sin, love the sinner. Wise words. Downright magical when put into action. Still hard to take to heart, easy to forget.

One horrifying story after another after another after another after another after another has emerged from the besieged Twin Cities in recent days. Details have been meticulously chronicled. Images are burned into memory. The extensive coverage is more than justified, the public needs to know the full extent of authoritarian overreach involved in the ruling regime’s lawless immigration raids.

When rogue federal agents snatch a 2-year-old girl and ship her from Minnesota to Texas in defiance of a judge’s order, other big stories get overshadowed. When they kidnap a 5-year-old boy to use as bait to draw family members out of their home, other critically important news goes unnoticed. When they force open the front door of a home without a warrant, slap handcuffs on a barely clothed man—a U.S. citizen—and pull him out into the freezing cold as his 4-year-old grandson watches, crying inconsolably, even the most remarkable and inspiring stories have a way of getting lost in the shuffle.

One story in particular was easy to overlook considering the grave circumstances. Perhaps you’ve already heard it, no matter, it bears repeating. This story shows a way forward, a way out of seemingly impenetrable darkness.

White supremacist and January 6 insurrectionist Jake Lang was imprisoned while awaiting trial for beating Capitol police officers with a baseball bat. Eleven charges against him went away thanks to a presidential pardon. A free man on account of that criminal injustice, he went to Minneapolis City Hall a little over a week ago with plans to burn the Muslim holy book before leading a march to a neighborhood that is the heart of the city’s Somali community.

Lang never did get around to burning the Quran or leading his parade. Only a handful of supporters showed up for his rally, vastly outnumbered by hundreds of counterprotesters who sprayed water on Lang and draped him with silly string as he stood on a window ledge, drenched and shivering on this frigid afternoon. The surging crowd showed no mercy, pulled him down from the ledge, pinned him against a wall. Several kicked and struck Lang, bloodying him.

There’s no telling what might have happened next if Isaiah Blackwell, a 30-year-old Black man, had not put his body between Lang and the counterprotesters. Blackwell stood face to face with Lang, shielding him from further attack. He then led Lang away from City Hall, at times acting as a blocker clearing a path of escape, other times clutching him by one arm or guiding him from behind with hands on his shoulders. “Don’t touch him, let him go,” he cried. Lang made it to a nearby hotel.

Former Minneapolis Mayor R.T. Rybak said, “Lang saw that Black man as less than him. The Black man saw Lang as a human being.”

Lang benefited from more than Blackwell’s intervention that day. Aleigha Henderson and Daye Gottsche were driving by the hotel on the way to a bar, and Lang ran up to their car at a red light, begging to get in. They let him in, “trying to do a good deed,” as the 25-year-old Henderson put it.

Protesters opened the back door, tried pulling Lang out of the car and kicking him as he pleaded with Henderson to drive. She peeled out once the light turned green. Lang wouldn’t tell them who he is or what was going on, only mumbling something about how Trump had saved his life. Gottsche, a 22-year-old trans woman, said the two got “weird vibes” from him and pulled over after a few blocks and told him to get out, saying they were just trying to go have a drink. “I’m not invited for the drinks?” Lang asked. “No!” the friends shouted in unison.

Well beyond harm’s reach by this time, Lang had lived to hate another day. He later told InfoWars host Alex Jones that he was “lynched” but some “Good Samaritans” saved him. He seemed puzzled, struggling to make sense of people out in the freezing cold summoning the warmth of spirit to protect someone who came to demean them and hurl hateful filth in their direction. “Many of them were Black. Some of them were even Muslim,” he told Jones, marveling at “this underlying human compassion.”

Maybe Jake Lang’s heart remains frozen over, perhaps it thawed just a little that day. At a bare minimum, the power of his rescuers’ actions made an impression on him. Lasting impact on Lang or no, these unassuming heroes set an enduring example for the rest of us. They did not lower themselves to his level. Instead, they took a hateful man into their care. What they didn’t let in was hatred itself, even when it was delivered directly to their doorstep.

With cruelty firmly established as national policy and circulating like legal tender, it grows more tempting by the day to go with the flow, to respond in kind. Fortunately, there are angels among us, guiding not with measured words but spontaneous gut reaction, a reminder there is a far more powerful response at our disposal. Pass it on.