The Brief

This story is part of ICE vs. LA, a collaborative reporting project by LA Public Press, Caló News, Capital & Main, Capital B, LA Taco, and Q Voice.

Four months after nearly 5,000 federal troops descended onto Los Angeles, Marsha Mitchell, a Black organizer in South Central, explained what made it impossible for her not to act: her neighbors.

At the peak of the federal immigration raids this summer — when U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement was arresting an average of 540 people per week in the city — her neighbor, Erica, and her husband and friend were taken by federal agents while eating breakfast in their home.

All three were placed in a van and driven toward downtown Los Angeles.

But Erica knew she had to get back to her small children, recalled Mitchell, a lifelong South Central resident, from a conversation she had with her neighbor.

“As a mother, her whole thing was, I got to get to my babies,” Mitchell said.

When the agents opened the van doors in downtown L.A., Erica broke free — still tied up, still terrified — and ran. While Erica managed to escape, her husband was placed in the detention center, where he said conditions were unbearable. According to Mitchell, he self-deported rather than endure them, choosing to escape the system that had trapped him.

Erica was the family’s breadwinner through her tamale stand, but with her husband gone, she is too afraid to leave her home. The family has collapsed financially under the weight of a single raid, Mitchell said.

“Not only has she lost her business, but also her husband and the ability to give her family what they need to survive,” said Mitchell, an organizer with Community Coalition, the long-standing anti-violence and drug addiction group founded by now-Mayor Karen Bass in 1990.

In South L.A., where Los Angeles City Council Districts 8, 9, and 10 have transformed from predominantly Black to predominantly Latino, and where the highest percentages of undocumented residents in the city now live, Erica’s story is part of the new normal.

For some South Central residents, the raids have triggered economic and social catastrophes. During the first weeks of concentrated immigration enforcement, 465,000 fewer workers reported for work. One local business owner told the economic justice group Strategic Actions for a Just Economy that he’d lost 80% of his business in the first month of the ICE crackdown. Other shops across South Central and downtown lost business for weeks.

The raids are posing a new hurdle for Black and Latino families to pay rent in one of America’s most expensive cities. But they’ve also catalyzed Black neighbors to act.

“[Erica] is a member of our community, and she is afraid to come outside,” Mitchell said. “She is not alone, and that is why we’re helping with mutual aid.”

Immediately, that looked like bringing her family groceries and referring them to resources for free mental health care.

Community Coalition, known as CoCo, is training dozens of block captains to canvass their communities and coordinate food drop-offs, safety check-ins, and care referrals in real time. They’re organizing their neighbors around the threats facing everyone, regardless of their race or residency status.

The immediacy of this care network — 18 block captains now, with hopes to reach 28 — emerged after Erica’s abduction by ICE, according to Mitchell, who works for CoCo.

L.A. County’s Black residents — 20% of whom are immigrants or children of immigrants — are standing in solidarity with their Latino neighbors, saying they are part of a shared fight against over-policing and racialized violence. Nine out of 10 ICE arrests have been of Latinos.

“Seeing families torn apart is so reminiscent of the white supremacist playbook that we’ve seen historically in communities of color, and that starts with our Indigenous siblings to slavery and through these latest ICE raids,” Mitchell said.

Neighbors moved to action

Pamela Riley envisions her South Central neighborhood with all the resources it needs to thrive, but that starts at the block level, she said.

(

Adam Mahoney

/

Capital B

)

On a quiet stretch of 92nd Street, Pamela Riley propped open her front gate around 8 a.m. For one Saturday in October, her front yard — one of the typical South Central flair caged in by a sagging iron gate — became the heartbeat of a block fighting back against abandonment.

Within minutes, her neighbors began to gather. Grandmothers sipped coffee, young mothers munched on donuts, and teenagers organized flyers printed in Spanish and English.

Just steps from the 110 freeway and the ghostly remains of shuttered shops and clinics, her community is forging new lines of solidarity amid chronic neglect and a deep need for connection. This is the new frontline in South Los Angeles, where a coalition of Black and Latino residents is launching a network of “Neighborhood Action Hubs” along the Vermont and Broadway corridors to keep mutual aid alive as official support shrinks.

The goal: to weave a grassroots shield against ICE crackdowns and social services cuts and offer a model for how neighbors, not institutions, can bridge fear and isolation.

“That blueprint of success is there. The road is paved, we just need to walk it together,” said Riley, a 64-year-old lifelong South Central resident.

Later that morning, as the sun tried to fight through the gloomy sky, a group of three of the women who showed up at Riley’s event — two Black, one Latina — passed the same mural-painted utility boxes and chain-link fences that mark so many South L.A. blocks. Old-school Chevys, some missing hubcaps, were parked next to pickups and battered minivans, while the sound of cumbia drifted from a doorway where a woman watered her agave under the music’s sway.

As they moved from house to house, the group stopped at gates and asked neighbors about the specific issues facing their blocks and individual households. At one, a longtime Latino immigrant, gray-haired and smiling, shared how she planned to vote in the now-passed November election.

Riley’s block has become a lot more quiet and less frequented since ICE raids began.

(

Adam Mahoney

/

Capital B

)

Deeper onto the block, the canvassers encountered two undocumented migrants — one a young father, the other a middle-aged woman. The father spoke to tangible issues in the neighborhood: “People have started stealing car tires at night and cutting wires from light poles for quick money,” he said.

The mother spoke quietly about work drying up and more neighbors “laying low” as rumors of ICE sightings swept through the area. The Latina canvasser asked directly about food access and whether anyone still sold homemade snacks. The woman hesitated, then explained in Spanish that she stopped selling crepes out of fear.

The canvassers turned to the others and suggested a solution: organizing a block-wide food vendor party, so people could sell their products safely.

Walking farther, they found themselves cautiously welcomed by a Black city worker who had lived on the block for decades. She described losing sleep as the city’s racial demographics shifted and her worry about Black and Latino votes being split or erased.

At each stop, the canvassers handed out cards with voting information and explained how to register, where to find drop boxes, and how to access rapid response teams if ICE was spotted or the lights went out again.

“Solidarity is literally in L.A.’s DNA,” Mitchell said. “We know that when communities come together, we weather all kinds of storms — governmental, financial, whatever comes our way.”

L.A.’s long-history of racial coalitions

Neighborhood canvassers speak to a women. This specific Saturday, these two canvassers knocked on dozens of doors for over 2 hours.

(

Adam Mahoney

/

Capital B

)

Riley said her memories are filled with better days: bustling shops, a hospital on 94th, neighbors who’d send their kids to college together. She has watched her neighborhood swing from prosperity to depression and now, uncertainty.

Today, Riley’s yard and days are devoted to strategizing — she and other block captains count names, rehearse response plans and dream of new “welcome to South Central L.A.” signs at every corner. During meetings, they talk about how, in other parts of the city, neighbors stand by each other in crisis; here, too, unity could mean survival. The terror of recent abductions — a beloved tamalera torn from her routine and dayworkers swiped off the streets — still haunts these blocks, sharpening every knock at the door.

“I grew up in a civil rights era of the ’60s, and I’m starting to realize this is the new era of civil rights,” Riley said, explaining that the attack on civil rights today has extended far beyond immigration raids. “It is requiring more from all of us.”

Having lived through what she considers broken promises following the devastation of the 1992 L.A. Riots, Riley said she understands that revival cannot rely on state intervention alone, and it bridges racial divides. Instead, she insists, “what’s going on in Washington DC is showing us we need to join together and support each other.”

It also reminds her of the power of community. During the 1992 protests against police brutality, Latinos constituted the largest portion of arrests despite making up a smaller percentage of the overall population at the time.

Dozens of volunteers began their Saturday at 9 a.m. to door knock.

(

Adam Mahoney

/

Capital B

)

The roots of Black and Latino collaboration go back to the founding of L.A. itself, where 26 of the city’s 44 original settlers in 1781 were Black/Afro-Latino with Spanish surnames — establishing a tradition of mixed neighborhoods and joint political action. This foundation was later strengthened during the Great Migration and again throughout the 20th century, when Black and Latino residents forged working alliances in the face of shared exclusion from citywide power.

In recent decades, the demographic mix in South Central has shifted further. Where once the community was predominantly Black, Latino residents now form the majority. The change created new opportunities for solidarity, as well as challenges, especially after Latino L.A. City Council members were caught on tape using racist anti-Black language while discussing concerns about the political power of Black residents. The tapes reopened wounds over neighborhood displacement.

Today, the skepticism remains real for a lot of Black people in L.A. In June, a viral moment spread across the internet after Latino protesters hurled racial insults at a Black L.A. police officer.

“A significant number of Black folks don’t see this as their fight,” author and commentator Earl Ofari Hutchinson said after the protest in June. “They’ve seen anti-Blackness in Latino communities. They’ve felt left out when it came to our issues. That breeds skepticism.”

But “if anything, the debate over whether Blacks should link hands with Latino activists in the immigration battle seems age old,” Hutchinson wrote on his daily blog.

Hector Sanchez, CoCo’s Deputy Political Director, agreed.“It takes a lot of work. I’m not going to say it’s very easy … but it’s people that are willing to have those difficult conversations at times to ensure that we have each other’s back.”

Just a day after the city council tapes leaked, more than 400 people came together in Boyle Heights “to talk about the importance of multi-racial solidarity,” he said. Despite the tensions, neighbors continue fighting side by side for justice and belonging.

When canvassers could not get in contact with residents, they left behind these door hangers with a list of resources.

(

Adam Mahoney

/

Capital B

)

In the years since, organizers have responded by promoting cross-cultural events, joint canvassing efforts, and language exchange programs. Language exchange workshops and “know your rights” sessions — alongside mutual aid deliveries — have become linchpins of the hub approach.

“We are not just helping Black folks, not just one population. It’s for all of us,” explained Sequarier McCoy, a 49-year-old lifelong L.A. resident.

“I grew up in a Black and Brown community,” she added. “I smelled Black-eyed peas, but I also smelled tortillas. I like corn on the cob and Esquites.”

McCoy is also acutely aware that the issues of migration, detention and deportation are far from just Latino issues. “It’s also for Dominican folks. It’s also for Belizean folks. It’s also for Caribbean folks,” she said. She said her partner, a Belizean migrant, is living in fear too.

Black undocumented migrants are deported at a rate four times more often than their numbers would suggest, according to an analysis of federal data by the Black Alliance for Just Immigration.

It is why this practical solidarity spans crises, organizers said. When SNAP benefits run dry, when an ICE van is spotted, or when a neighbor’s lights go out, the same phone trees and rapid response plans kick in.

“This work is an honor as a human being, not just as an activist,” McCoy said.

In an attempt to resolve evictions before they go to trial, the Los Angeles County Superior Court has launched new programs that seek to facilitate settlements by providing free attorneys to tenants and financial relief to landlords who are owed back rent.

Presiding Judge Sergio Tapia said these pilot programs are designed to stem the tide of evictions, which have risen sharply since the COVID-19 pandemic.

“We're trying to show litigants across the board, whether it’s tenants or landlords, that the court is the opportunity to try to find resolution faster,” Tapia told LAist.

Both tenant and landlord attorneys agree that settlements can often be the best path for both parties.

One program launched last month in downtown L.A.’s Stanley Mosk Courthouse gives tenants the right to request a mandatory settlement conference overseen by a court-appointed settlement officer.

These tenants, who rarely come to court with legal representation, will be given a free attorney to guide them though the settlement conferences, as long as they earn less than 125% of the federal poverty level.

But lawyers who represent landlords say their clients often feel local government is increasingly putting money toward helping renters, while leaving property owners struggling.

Where does funding come from?

Facing eviction without a lawyer “puts people at such an enormous disadvantage, when landlords normally have lawyers,” said Conway Collis, president of the Mayor’s Fund for Los Angeles, a nonprofit that is helping to fund the Mosk program’s free attorneys.

Other funding comes from Stay Housed L.A., a legal aid partnership funded by the county of L.A. and the city of L.A. through its “mansion tax.”

Landlords will be required to notify tenants about the program in the eviction paperwork they serve to tenants.

Settlement officers come from the court’s pool of temporary judges, who handle lower-level cases, such as traffic infractions. Other officers are retired judges or trained lawyers.

The settlement conferences are being held on the same day as regularly scheduled court hearings, one floor down from the Mosk courthouse’s eviction department.

How are the conferences working so far?

Elena Popp, the executive director of the Eviction Defense Network, which is providing lawyers for the program, said that on one recent day, landlords and tenants were able to reach mutually agreeable settlements in about half the conferences.

“We settled one,” Popp said. “We are very close to settling a second one. The other two are way further apart because the tenant really wants to stay on, but the landlord really wants them to go.”

Settlement deals look different in each case, Popp said. Sometimes they involve landlords letting tenants stay if they pay overdue rent. In other cases, tenants are given additional time to find new housing before they must leave. When settlements are reached, cases are sealed so that evictions won’t be visible on a tenant’s record, a black mark that makes it very difficult to find new housing.

When settlements can’t be reached, landlords and tenants go back upstairs to resume their normal proceedings, Popp said.

No matter how cases are resolved, she said, tenants can’t be expected to navigate legally complex processes on their own.

“One of the things that we stressed when we were setting this up is that you absolutely have to have a lawyer,” Popp said.

Compton program pairs settlements with money to landlords

Another pilot program launched last month at the Compton courthouse offers up to $10,000 to cover rent owed to landlords in cases that settle. Landlords will be required to inform tenants about the settlement conferences. To qualify, either the tenant or the landlord must earn no more than 120% of the area’s median income.

The settlement conferences at the Compton courthouse are overseen by Community Legal Aid of Southern California, and rent relief funding is administered by L.A. County’s Department of Consumer and Business Affairs.

Attorney Aaron Kohanim, who represents landlords, said he advises his clients to settle whenever possible, because going to trial is “a casino — you don't know if you're going to win.”

But he also said landlords generally view taxpayer-funded attorneys for tenants as unfair.

“Only one side gets a piece of that pot,” Kohanim said. “Landlords have to pay out of pocket for their attorneys. And on top of that, they are not allowed to collect rent in the middle of the case, so they're getting beaten by two different angles, versus a tenant who is just living there rent-free and they get a free lawyer.”

Tapia said the programs are currently limited to the Mosk and Compton courthouses because of funding constraints and limited resources. But the judge said if they prove successful, they could be expanded county-wide.

“If we're able to show success, that will allow us to recruit a more robust set of settlement officers to perhaps expand,” Tapia said. “We need to see how this pilot plays out first.”

Electric vehicle batteries are a lot like people, in one important respect: They're most comfortable in temperatures around 65 to 75 degrees Fahrenheit.

When the weather gets much colder or hotter than that, a battery works less efficiently. It has to work harder, too, to keep the vehicle's cabin comfortable for its equally picky human occupants.

The result? Electric vehicles can't drive as far or as efficiently in extremely hot or cold weather.

AAA has been testing exactly how big an effect temperatures have on modern EV batteries. In its latest research, shared exclusively with NPR, it found that hot temperatures reduced range by an average of 8.5%. Cold weather cut vehicles' range by a whopping 39%.

AAA ran similar tests back in 2019 with a different vehicle lineup. Back then, the cold weather hit to range was approximately the same, while the high-temperature range loss was higher, 17%. The different slate of vehicles complicates direct comparison, AAA warns, but does suggest some improvements in how EVs handle the heat.

But not the cold. "There's been a lot of technology changes," says Greg Brannon, the director of automotive engineering at AAA. New battery chemistries; more efficient EV designs; fancier software. But when it comes to winter range performance, "the electric vehicles actually didn't change all that much from back in 2019."

Greg Brannon, the director of automotive engineering at AAA, at the Automotive Research Center in Los Angeles.

(

Courtney Theophin/NPR

)

These results show that drivers need to be prepared for their real-world range to shrink in the winter — and to a lesser extent, at the height of summer. EVs can still be practical choices in hotter or colder climates, as long as drivers adjust for predictable range loss. "It can be overcome," says Brannon. "But you have to plan for it."

A treadmill in a freezer

AAA conducts these tests at its own expense, part of a slate of research the group does into emerging vehicle technology for the benefit of auto club members. The tests are carried out at its Automotive Research Center in Los Angeles. Specifically, inside the historic headquarters of the Automobile Club of Southern California: a Spanish Revival-style building, all stucco and red tiles, built around a century-old Moreton Bay fig tree, with a courtyard filled with oranges, palm trees and fountains.

It's possibly the most picturesque place for a California driver to get a smog check. (Yes, AAA offers that here.) But it's not, at first glance, a likely spot for testing how vehicles perform in extreme temperatures, especially not on an April day in the mid-60s. (The locals complained about it as "jacket weather.")

The Automotive Research Center in Los Angeles, located inside the historic headquarters of the Automobile Club of Southern California.

(

Courtney Theophin/NPR

)

But tucked away inside this building is a room that's heavily insulated and packed with powerful heaters and coolers. It can be cranked down to 20 degrees Fahrenheit, or up to 95.

Inside, there's enough space for a single vehicle, parked very carefully on top of two giant steel rollers — each of them 4 feet in diameter — that are hidden beneath floor level.

This is a chassis dynamometer, or "dyno" for short. "For lack of a better term, I guess it's kind of like a treadmill for a car," says Megan McKernan, who manages the research center.

For each test, the two rollers are carefully positioned to match up with the wheels of the test vehicle. Then the car is driven right on top of them, making sure the wheels touch nothing else. The vehicle is tied down with heavy, bright-pink chains, so it can't move forward off the "treadmill."

A test vehicle is positioned on a chassis dynamometer. "For lack of a better term, I guess it's kind of like a treadmill for a car," says Megan McKernan.

(

Courtney Theophin/NPR

)

Now, it's time for Richard Gonzalez to "drive" the vehicle — without actually going anywhere. Once he gets inside and presses the accelerator, the wheels make those giant rollers turn. For hours.

This is about as fun as it sounds. Gonzalez much prefers other parts of his job, like track tests, where AAA evaluates how well cars can, say, automatically brake to avoid pedestrians. But podcasts help pass the time.

The point is to see how far the battery can go, under these controlled conditions, at a certain temperature.

Once the car's battery is drained so much that it can't maintain highway speeds, the test is over. And AAA has a new data point showing how well a certain model's battery can take cold or heat.

A small hit in the summer, a big one in the winter

EVs are not the only kinds of cars that suffer in the cold. AAA also tested hybrids this time around and found a nearly 23% average loss in fuel economy in the 20 degrees F test.

"Internal combustion engine vehicles also lose range in extreme cold weather," points out Ed Kim, the chief analyst with the research group AutoPacific, who was not involved in AAA's research. The Environmental Protection Agency has estimated a 10% to 30% drop in gas vehicle fuel economy in cold weather, depending on the type of trip. "This isn't a problem that's exclusive to EVs. This happens to basically any kind of vehicle when it gets really cold."

In some colder parts of the world, EVs have already become dominant, despite the challenge of winter range loss. Norway has the highest rate of EV adoption in the world — 98% pure battery-electric in March 2026, according to the latest numbers. And Norway is hardly balmy.

Electric vehicles are parked in Geiranger, Norway. The country has the highest rate of EV adoption in the world.

(

Martin Berry/UCG/Universal Images Group via Getty Images

)

But in the U.S., it's a different story. Kim says that EVs have taken off much more in states where temperatures are warm or mild than in the chilly Midwest. State policies and charger availability also play a role, but Kim says fears about winter range — both valid concerns and misinformation-fueled myths — are a factor.

Still, Kim says even with a significant amount of range loss, many drivers in cold-weather regions would still find an EV more than sufficient for their daily needs. "How many people are actually driving more than 200 miles in a day?" he asks rhetorically.

Tips for getting the most from a battery, year-round. 

Range loss from extreme temperatures is inevitable, but EV drivers can prepare for it.

First, pick the right vehicle to battle the temperatures where you live. Some are better than others at handling cold or heat. There are several guides; the most fun comes from a Norwegian auto club that does a head-to-head test every year on a wintry mountain.

A little forward planning helps, too, Kim and Brannon both say. For an EV driver who charges at home overnight and has a typical commute, reduced winter range likely won't affect daily driving at all. But if you don't have a home charger or you're going on a long trip, factor range reduction in when you think about when and where you'll charge. And if you're fast-charging, try to do it on a battery that's been warmed up; charging is slower on a cold battery.

Brannon also recommends that drivers start their climate control while their vehicle is still plugged in. "Pre-conditioning" like that means that when you warm up the car's battery and its interior, you pull power from the grid, not your battery. That saves your vehicle's juice for your drive.

McKernan notes that if you have heated or ventilated seats, using those instead of the air conditioning or heater can be a big boost. The AC and heat are a surprisingly big draw on a vehicle's energy.

And keep your tires inflated to the manufacturer-recommended level and drive at moderate speeds. That boosts your vehicle's efficiency no matter whether it runs on gas, a giant battery or both — and no matter the temperature.
Copyright 2026 NPR

This story first appeared on The LA Local.

While deciphering posted parking regulations around L.A. lately, you may have noticed new signs.

“This property is owned or controlled by the city of Los Angeles,” the shiny red-and-white placards say. "It may only be used for its intended purpose and not used for immigration enforcement as a staging area, processing location, or operations base.”

The LA Local recently spotted them at Hollenbeck Park’s parking lot and at various parking lots close to Echo Park. The mayor’s office told The LA Local the city has installed 500 of them at various locations, including at MacArthur Park, Lafayette Park, the Los Angeles Zoo and Metrolink stations.

The city has received no reports that agents have used the city-owned spaces since the signs were installed. A spokesperson for the mayor’s office said that the city could sue for a restraining order if federal agencies violate the prohibition.

Why were the signs posted?

Mayor Karen Bass ordered that these signs be posted on all city-owned property in February as part of her Executive Order 17. A spokesperson for the mayor’s office said they placed the signs in locations “identified as more likely to be used for [Immigration and Customs Enforcement] operational activity.”

Since the federal government began sweeping operations in Los Angeles last year, immigration advocates and community members have called for the city to do more to keep immigrant residents safer.

In response, Bass issued Executive Order 17, saying the “City must and can do more to protect our City and all who live, work and visit the City of Angels.”

A sign at MacArthur Park prohibits federal agents from using city-owned property to stage for immigration enforcement operations.

(

Courtesy City of Los Angeles

)

How have federal immigration operations involved city property and employees?

In July 2025, about 100 federal agents conducted an operation in MacArthur Park. Days later, Bass issued a separate executive order clarifying the city’s property and resources could not be used for federal immigration enforcement. 

Meanwhile, LAPD Police Chief Jim McDonnell has made repeated statements that he doesn’t agree with or plan to enforce various state laws requiring federal agents to identify themselves and do their work without a mask. (After the Trump administration filed lawsuits, courts have blocked various provisions of those state laws in court anyway.)

Some advocates and Angelenos have called on LAPD to draw a clearer line between the local policing work they are responsible for and the immigration enforcement federal agents do.

Bass’ February order requiring the signs be installed came soon after.

The city has also prohibited its employees from working second jobs with federal immigration enforcement.

What else does Executive Order 17 do?

The order states that unless federal agents have a warrant or court order, they are not allowed to use city-owned or operated property to stage for operations. It also requires LAPD officers to identify federal agents and record their interactions with them. The police commission has since started to publicly report basic details about those interactions.

What happens if federal agents use the city spaces anyway?

The order does not establish what penalties federal agents could face if they are found to be using city property for staging. A spokesperson for the mayor’s office said that the city could sue or pursue a restraining order if federal agencies violate the prohibition.

“Any necessary response will be handled in accordance with the Executive Order and applicable City protocols,” the city statement said.