On Sunday, Feb. 15, a van with tinted windows sat in the median of an expressway 10 minutes outside Minneapolis. It idled in a Michigan left usually reserved for law enforcement personnel, one that allows for quick pull-outs and pull-overs. But unlike police cars, this van didn’t have any lights or sirens — it was white and unmarked. When Charlie Morris drove past on the expressway, headed back home to Iowa City, the van pulled out and trailed close behind.
Morris had seen vans like this on the streets of Minneapolis. He was headed home from another weekend spent in the city, delivering supplies and listening to stories from residents. He had listened to the struggles of mothers and fathers whose children had seen them thrown to the ground at the start of a school day. He had also heard the sounds of helicopters hovering overhead and walked past the burnt remains of a car ignited by a tear gas canister. And he’d seen a white van with tinted windows like the one following him rolling through Minneapolis neighborhoods.
Morris tried to shake off the van by making a last-minute right onto a rural exit. The van followed. Another turn, the van still followed. He continued looking for an escape. After five minutes, Morris pulled into the driveway of a house with an occupied porch. The van waited at the curb, motionless, for a full minute before it finally left. Morris did not leave his car…