MARCH 28, 2026 – Fortunately, half a century ago Bruce Springsteen’s band-buddies back in Asbury Park, New Jersey started calling him “the boss” (in reflection of his dual role as music and band finance director) and not “the king.” Lots of Americans have a boss, but no American should have a king. Springsteen’s famous moniker was befitting for a man who was “boss” of the country’s lead “No Kings!” rally today in St. Paul.
By rally time the day was still cold. The mercury struggled to reach 50 and a sharp wind blew down our necks. When my fingers went numb and stayed white from a relentless Reynaud’s attack, I was glad that at least the sun was shining brightly. Eventually, feeling returned to my hands, and the recovery was a reminder of Minnesota’s answer to ICE.
A bit before 11:30 my good friend Erik Hansen and I (Beth participated in the “No Kings!” rally in Old Saybrook, CT) joined the crowd that was growing on the section of the Minnesota State Capitol Mall closest to the Cass Gilbert’s recently renovated masterpiece with its clean white marble gleaming in the sunshine. We had a two-and-a-half-hour wait for the start of appearances by the headliner cast. Erik and I positioned ourselves on the leeward side of a large “warming tent,” and between standing session and sitting intervals (we’d brought portable chairs), we talked politics, snapped photos and surveyed the crowd. Despite the inconvenience of Reynaud’s, I was far more comfortable that I’d been at the ice-cold ant-ICE demonstrations in Minneapolis in the bitter cold of winter.
At around 12:30, the crowd began to burgeon, growing as dense as the train platforms I’d witnessed in India. I tried to capture the scene in photos by holding my camera as high as I could reach. Feeding the crowd were steady streams of marchers from three outlying staging areas. Like armies of “friendlies” they converged onto the long mall, and when no more space was left to occupy, masses spilled well beyond the borders. On the far side, I could see crowds packed onto the wide steps of the Minnesota Judicial Center and on the generous south balcony of the building. The last time I’d seen a mass of humanity that large, I thought, was in Gdansk at the rarified height of the Solidarność Revolution in Poland in 1981. Here in America and now 45 years later, I wondered, were we witnessing a similar revolution against authoritarian rule?
The speaker set-up and wind compromised the sound where we’d been situated, so at 1:00 we decided to wend our way through our fellow sardines to a loudspeaker site farther down the gently sloping mall. This tactical move greatly improved acoustics and led to a better vantage point for an expanded perspective on the now ginormous crowd. We were impressed by how polite and patient people were as we pressed our way forward through the masses.
After some music performances, including what I found to be a moving song sung a cappella by the songwriter in her Ojibway language, a line-up of energizing activists spoke to the attentive assemblage. In substance we heard a mix of memorials for Reneé Good and Alex Pretti; statements of gratitude for the courage shown by countless people who’ve jumped to their neighbors’ aid against ICE; and a reminder of the ongoing mission: to rid the country of Trump and Trumpism. As the chant capsulized our discontent, “No Ice, No War, No Kings!”
As the temperature improved, Governor Walz stepped forth to deliver a five-minute zinger speech. By declaring war on Minnesota, Trump has turned Walz into our lead ICE-melting machine. Among his most memorable lines, were those spoken to immigrants:
You add value to our state. You are part of the fabric of what is good about Minnesota . . . and I will add a special thank you and acknowledgment that we will never leave the side of our Somali Minnesotans. Here’s our pledge to you: your great grandchildren will still be here when that orange clown is in the dustbin of history.
Walz then laid into the Trumpers’ rhetorical insistence that we who resist ICE are “radicals”:
The President said we’re a bunch of radicals. You’re damn right we’ve been radicalized; we’ve been radicalized by compassion, radicalized by decency, radicalized by due process, radicalized by democracy and radicalized to do all we can to oppose authoritarianism.
His rousing speech earned robust applause. It was a perfect set-up for what made the whole affair worth the effort. A hundred thousand hearts swelled as The Boss pulled out all the stops and sang his song of praise for Minneapolis, St. Paul and Minnesota. I looked around and marveled at the size and energy of the rally. As “Streets of Minneapolis” filled the air, I concluded boldly that it was a song for America; that maybe we’re finding our way to a better place after all. May November bring us proof.
Subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.
© 2026 by Eric Nilsson
2 Comments
Thanks for a great review of the day! I forwarded this to a few of my family and friends.
Very good description of the day and events. Thanks for capturing Walz’s words.