November 2025
First things first, welcome to the November He Said, he said, everyone.
Now, last month, as you recall, Aja, Dylan, and I had a small run-in with ICE as we were delivering a woman and her sons away from an untenable situation with her husband.
He was abusive, and as members of Sodalite, who move people, we normally only worried about police officers.
But now there was ICE as well. And while I was lucky—being married to the chief deputy of the Northern District of Illinois—Sam had saved the three of us from whatever they would have done to us, that did not keep us from “the talk”.
It was…excruciating.
In our house, at our kitchen table, my cohorts and I got to hear from each of our husbands.
Dane said, if anything were to happen to his wife, his bride, the love of his life, he would never be the same. He would not be the man he needed to be for his sons and would need to retire at once, as the love of his craft, of architecture, would be gone as well.
Aja only stared at him, mouth open, tears running down her face.
“Would you do that to me?” he rasped.
I was crying by then too.
She vowed to be careful before she dissolved into tears.
Chris asked Dylan if she had considered what his life would look like without her. He laughed with her every day. Did she imagine that he would ever laugh again?
Elbows on the table, face in her hands, she was utterly gutted.
Sam was standing there, arms crossed, brows furrowed, and told me that I was the one who made him, him. He would be changed forever if he lost me, and not the man he wanted to be for his children or grandchildren.
“Hannah would have to start all her sentences with, ‘you don’t understand, my dad used to be different.’ Kola would have to explain why he loved me when I no longer seemed capable.”
“God,” I moaned softly, face down on the table.
“I know you all have to help, I do,” Sam addressed all three of us, “but going forward you must be aware of the jeopardy you’re putting yourselves in. There are people I can ask to make sure that you’re safe.”
I lifted my head to look at my husband. “You’re not thinking of asking any of your people to––”
“I can’t do that,” Sam stated flatly. “But I know Jared Colter, and there are people there to ask, and Darius is another person I can reach out to.”
“Aaron can’t––”
“Did I mention Aaron?” he snapped at me, which wasn’t his normal. “Did I say anything at all about Aaron Sutter?”
I cleared my throat. “No.”
“Then don’t presume I’m an idiot, all right?”
My sigh was loud.
“I’m sorry, is this tedious for you?”
“No, not at all. I––”
But he left the room then, stalking through the kitchen and out to the porch.
When I glanced over at Dane, he was staring out into our front yard, arms crossed, looking like a statue. Chris was in the kitchen, not saying a word. Aja had her hand pressed to her forehead, and Dylan was face down in her arms.
We were an utterly miserable group.
“I love you too much,” Chris said suddenly, and I turned to look at him.
“Back in the day, I was the master of pulling away slowly to make sure I didn’t get hurt.
I would put distance between me and whoever, bit by bit, until I simply didn’t care.
But now, with you––” He took a shaky breath.
“It’s been too long. I’m in too deep, so I’m begging you to please not hurt me.
I’m far too attached to you, my friend, to lose you. ”
“I’m sorry,” I told him.
“Please, Aja,” he said, looking at her. “My circle is as big as I ever want it to be. Please don’t leave me.”
That was it, Aja was bawling, and when Chris glanced at Dane, he nodded and gave him a trace of a smile.
Getting up, I went after Sam, finding him on the back porch, outside, and walking up behind him.
“I’m not ready to––Jory,” he barked at me as I grabbed him, wrapping my arms around his waist and leaning the side of my face against his broad back.
“Forgive me,” I pleaded, my eyes filling.
Slowly, he unhooked my hands and then turned to face me. I leaped, he caught me, and I wound my legs around his hips as he held me.
“As soon as you know next time, you tell me. I’ll find you backup.”
“I promise,” I cried into the side of his neck.
He was rubbing my back as he returned to the house with me in his arms. Aja was sitting with Dane at the table, his arm around her, her leaning on his shoulder. Chris and Dylan were on the couch, cuddling.
“Who wants pie?” Sam announced.
We all caravaned over to the diner. Everything was better after that. I was surprised when we were all leaving that Dane called me to him so he could hug me.
“I really scared him,” I told Sam when we were driving home.
“You scared all of us,” he informed me, but his voice was gentle. “Don’t ever do it again.”
“I will do my utmost.”
“That’s all I can ask,” he murmured, and I even got a smile.
Very good end to a long night.
Back on the eighteenth of October, all of us went to the No Kings protest. Sam couldn’t go, as you know, but the rest of us were there.
I knew there was going to be one in Oak Park, but my kids, plus all my others—Jake and Harper, Wick and Finn—were all going to the one downtown.
Dane and Aja, their kids, Dylan, Chris, and basically everyone I knew was going to be there as well, so that’s where we all were.
It was a good day. Chicago came out strong, Hannah’s sign looked just like the Schoolhouse Rock episode, and she even got people singing with her.
I was very proud to stand with family, friends, strangers, all of us together.
In these scary, troubling times, it’s so important for our voices to be counted whenever we can.
We have also been volunteering at our closest food bank—one that Aaron built, I’m proud to say—and have been passing out meals three days a week. The city is doing an amazing job of stepping up, and we all want to do our part to help.
Last week, I said to my husband, “I had no idea Ian was so patient.” This comment was prompted by one of many viral videos that he appeared in.
“None of us did,” Sam agreed.
One of the videos starts as marshals arrive to arrest a fugitive, and people started filming.
As soon as the filming began, the questions were asked: Do you have a warrant to be on the property or for an individual?
A lot of times, if there was a business, that one was asked second: Do you have a warrant for the business?
But that wasn’t applicable at that moment as they were at an apartment complex.
In answer, Ian immediately stated that yes, he had a warrant, and then, to my disbelief and, I was guessing, that of a lot of people who knew him, produced it for those who had him on camera.
“Okay, let’s all go through this together so we know what we should be looking for.”
I was stunned as I watched it, and some of the guys on his team seemed to be as well, but they got over that quickly, and there was a lot of nodding in understanding. From there on, the video was quite informative.
The team, led by Sharpe and White—those are the most visible names on the vests, as well as McCabe and Ross—went into the building, half went through the front, half went around back, and served their warrant and extracted their suspect as Ian went line by line through the warrant for the citizens turned into reporters.
I have to say, once they saw that there was a legal document, clearly signed by a judge, that everyone could see, plus, Ian and his team all had their last names on their vests—as I mentioned before—and their faces were visible…
well, the whole vibe changed. People immediately went from combative to quite interested in the specifics of fugitive capture.
That right there was the key. Fugitive, not undocumented anyone.
There was no tear gas throwing, no people being unlawfully grabbed, hit, or abducted, and instead, they saw how a trained squad differed from what they had, sadly, become accustomed to.
It was like a movie. Ian had his large group of Chicagoans stand with him, out of harm’s way, let them hear him speak to his team, and saw a precision entry and exit where only one door in the entire apartment complex was taken down.
They were in and out in ten minutes—I know this because multiple videos were time-stamped.
Ian never left the crowd, explained the entire process step-by-step, and went through what was happening.
When Eric Mendoza was brought out, since everyone knew he was wanted for trafficking women and young children, no one said a word about the marshals taking him into custody.
And it was pretty mild custody. They walked him to a clearly marked SUV that said USMS in big bold letters, United States Marshals Service, and got him seated inside.
Once they were gone, Ian remained with the crowd, with Eli joining him five minutes later—dispatched by Sam to the scene, he told me when he got home—and the two of them talked with everyone for an hour.
The press got wind of the question-and-answer session and arrived on-site, querying the two marshals as well, and it was, all in all, just what was needed.
Lots of people thanked them for keeping men like Mendoza away from their families.
There was handshaking, people leaning in close to Ian and Eli, and just generally a healthy discussion about what to do and what not to do.
Later came the release of hundreds of videos and pictures.
One woman shared a picture of a man with his hand on Ian’s shoulder as he explained the warrant.
She blanked out the man’s face because, as she explained in her comments, the man was undocumented.
But Ian never questioned his status. The man was not Ian’s concern, only explaining what was happening in the building to the residents of said building.