A Minneapolis veteran has died after police say he tried to stop two women who were trying to steal his vehicle

A Minneapolis veteran who spent part of his life helping other veterans has died after police say he tried to stop two women from stealing his vehicle in broad daylight.

KARE 11 reporter Ian Russell reported that 38-year-old Amos Ferrier died two days after the confrontation, which happened Friday afternoon, May 15, on 43rd Avenue South near Rick’s Coffee Bar.

According to Minneapolis police, Ferrier saw two people allegedly trying to steal his truck. When he ran across the street to stop them, police said the suspects got back into the vehicle they had arrived in and drove away, striking Ferrier and throwing him to the ground.

It is the kind of story that feels senseless from the very first detail. A vehicle can be replaced. A life cannot. But in the sudden panic of the moment, people often act on instinct before they have time to measure the danger in front of them.

A Violent Confrontation In Broad Daylight

Russell reported that the incident happened around 1:30 p.m., not in the middle of the night or on a deserted road, but near a coffee shop where Ferrier worked and where people knew him personally.

KARE 11 reported that Ferrier worked as an internship director at Rick’s Coffee Bar, which is connected to Every Third Saturday, an organization that benefits veterans.

Police said preliminary information showed Ferrier confronted two women who were trying to steal his vehicle. The suspects allegedly ran from him, got into their own vehicle, and drove off.

As they fled, police believe Ferrier was hit by the vehicle and thrown from the hood.

Russell said Ferrier was rushed into emergency brain surgery and remained on life support through the weekend. He died after his family made the decision to discontinue life support.

That detail alone makes the case even more painful. For two days, loved ones had to live in the thin space between hope and loss, waiting to see whether he could survive an injury that began with an attempted theft.

‘We Were Family’

Tom McKenna, co-founder of Every Third Saturday, told Russell that Ferrier was more than an employee.

“I was technically his boss,” McKenna said, “but really we were family.”

McKenna described Ferrier as being “like my brother,” and said the employees and interns who worked with him felt the same kind of bond.

“He had this way of connecting with the interns in the program that I’ve never experienced before,” McKenna said, adding that Ferrier was perfect for the role.

“The interns loved him, and so did I,” he told KARE 11.

Russell’s report made clear that Ferrier’s death has shaken the people around Rick’s Coffee Bar not only because of how he died, but because of who he was in that community.

A memorial outside the coffee shop continued to grow as loved ones and community members tried to process what happened.

McKenna said Ferrier was “a big guy” with “a big laugh,” and that his laugh was infectious.

That kind of description matters. It keeps the story from becoming only a police case or a crime statistic. Ferrier was someone’s friend, someone’s coworker, someone’s brother in all the ways that count.

A Veteran Who Helped Other Veterans

Russell reported that Ferrier was a war veteran and had served as a medic in Afghanistan.

McKenna said Ferrier was credited with saving multiple lives during his military service. Years later, he was still serving others, this time by helping veterans through the internship program at Rick’s Coffee Bar.

That makes the circumstances of his death especially hard to absorb.

Ferrier survived war, came home, and built a life around helping other people find their footing. Then, according to police, he was fatally injured while trying to stop a vehicle theft in his own community.

There is no neat way to make that feel fair. There rarely is in cases like this.

Russell said coworkers at Rick’s Coffee Bar were struggling with the surreal feeling of losing someone who had become part of their daily lives.

McKenna said he and another employee rushed outside after Ferrier was hurt. He told Russell that he applied pressure to Ferrier’s head wound, while a front desk worker named James held his hand.

McKenna said Ferrier was unconscious, but able to squeeze James’ hand.

“We had hope at that point that maybe this would be OK,” McKenna said.

A Family Choosing Forgiveness

Russell reported that Ferrier’s loved ones want accountability, but they are also pledging forgiveness.

McKenna said Ferrier’s family did not want hate or anger directed at whoever was responsible.

That is a difficult and unusually generous position in a case like this. Many families would be furious, and understandably so. But McKenna said forgiveness was how Ferrier lived, and how he would want others to respond.

“Not holding that hate and vengeance in our hearts, whether it’s deserved or not, we’re willing to give,” McKenna said in Russell’s report.

That does not mean the case is any less serious. It does not erase the need for justice. But it does show the kind of values Ferrier’s family and community are trying to hold onto in the middle of grief.

Minneapolis Police Chief Brian O’Hara called the case a tragic event that devastated a family and shocked the community. He said the “reckless disregard for the value of human life” shown in the case was horrifying and that those responsible should be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

That statement captures the legal side of what happened. McKenna’s words capture the human side.

Both matter.

Police Later Reported Arrests

In Russell’s initial report, Minneapolis police were still searching for the people believed to be involved, and he said no arrests had been made at that point.

KARE 11 later reported that Minneapolis police said two women, ages 18 and 19, had been arrested for their alleged involvement.

Police had been examining the area near the alley where the incident happened. Russell said he looked around for visible surveillance cameras but did not see any on that side of the building, though he noted there may have been cameras that were not obvious from the outside.

That investigative detail matters because cases like this often depend on small pieces of evidence: witness statements, nearby cameras, vehicle descriptions, and the timeline of how quickly suspects left the scene.

For the people who loved Ferrier, the arrests may answer one question, but they do not undo the loss.

A Community Left To Grieve

At Rick’s Coffee Bar, the grief is not abstract. It sits in the place where Ferrier worked, where he connected with veterans, where his coworkers still expect to hear his laugh.

Russell’s report showed a community trying to honor him without letting anger consume the memory of who he was.

Ferrier’s death also raises a difficult public safety reminder. People who witness a vehicle theft or any crime unfolding in real time may feel compelled to act, especially when it is their own property. But the danger can turn deadly in seconds when suspects are behind the wheel.

That does not place blame on Ferrier. It simply shows how quickly a theft can become something far worse when people fleeing a scene treat a human life as an obstacle.

Russell closed his report with the same reality that now surrounds the case: a family is grieving, a veterans organization has lost someone central to its work, and Minneapolis police have been working to hold the people responsible accountable.

Ferrier spent his life serving others, first as a medic and later as a mentor to veterans trying to rebuild their lives.

Now, the people who loved him are trying to carry that same spirit forward, even in the face of a loss that never should have happened.

For extra info, check out the KARE 11 report here.