Fred Wells Tennis and Education Center, a beloved community space for many St. Paul Academy and Summit School tennis players, has become an unexpected victim of Immigration and Customs Enforcement’s occupation of the Twin Cities.
After Renée Nicole Good was killed by an ICE agent on Jan. 7 and Alex Jeffrey Pretti was killed on Jan. 24, the protests across Minnesota have intensified, leading to escalating tensions between protesters and ICE, especially outside the Federal Building.
Over the past few weeks, thousands of people have been arrested and detained at The Bishop Henry Whipple Federal Building, where the Department of Homeland Security and ICE operations are located.
Fred Wells’ proximity to the Federal Building has led to the cancellation of all junior lessons for an indefinite period of time, scaled-back hours of operation to keep players and staff safe and the protection of the Hennepin County Sheriff’s office, according to emails sent by Executive Director Christine Nickels.
Senior Elliot Sjaastad has made many connections and friends through playing tennis at Fred Wells, so the closure of Fred Wells has made the situation personal. “When you see [news] on social media, it [seems distant]. But then when you see the impacts in real life, in person with your own eyes. It’s like, wow, this is getting real, you know?”
Instead of Fred Wells patrons walking down the footpath outside the center, with inscriptions of families’ and players’ names and various quotes leading to the entrance, in recent days, images and videos show ICE agents clashing with protesters right outside the building on that very same footpath.
“The week before they canceled classes, I went and there were a bunch of cameras and newspeople out there. And at first, I didn’t really know why they were there. Because I didn’t realize that they were so close to the [Homeland Security] headquarters,” Sjaastad said.
For sophomore Lucas Laguna, the cancellation of the junior lessons is a significant loss, especially as his tennis season looms closer. “I just think it’s a scary time to be living right now, like I didn’t see this coming at all, really going into this year. So it’s just surprising to me how quickly this escalated to be so bad,” Laguna said.
Fred Wells is one of many community centers and businesses affected because of ICE’s operations in the Twin Cities. A teen who regularly practices at the center, but asked not to be identified out of concern for her immigrant family’s safety, said, “Fred Wells [is in a hard situation] because they want to protect everyone who goes: they want to protect their instructors, the people who pay to go there, and the [kids part of] volunteer programs that are affiliated with the Fort but are in the more affected areas of Minneapolis, [but are also balancing] safety with regular business operations.”
Fred Wells’ closure has become more than just a disruption to routines. It has become a reminder of how intertwined community life and social unrest have become in the Twin Cities.
Sjaastad reflected on the situation, acknowledging both his disappointment and the broader reality. “So it is kind of unfortunate, but I feel like it’s just kind of like a champagne problem, you know. I won’t go to tennis, but also it’s safer. And there [are] people struggling a lot more than just not being able to go to tennis. So yeah, it really puts it into perspective,” he said.
As ICE’s occupation continues and safety remains uncertain, Fred Wells stands as a testament to how even spaces devoted to play and learning can be caught in the midst of national unrest. It is a reminder that what feels distant can, at any moment, become deeply personal.
Rubicon staff reached out to Fred Wells employees, who were unable to grant an interview at this time.
