(DODGER STADIUM, LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA) Federal immigration agents from ICE and Border Patrol gathered at Dodger Stadium’s parking lot 13 on the morning of November 4, 2025, one day after the Dodgers’ World Series celebration, in a staging that drew swift concern from residents and city workers who saw roughly 100 agents, including a CBP tactical unit, assemble and then leave by 10 a.m. Videos circulating online showed masked personnel in tactical helmets and vests clustered around unmarked vans and SUVs, a high-visibility deployment at one of Los Angeles’ most iconic venues that spread quickly through immigrant communities already on edge.
Witnesses described agents arriving in unmarked vehicles, wearing green vests and carrying white zip ties—gear commonly used for mass detentions—before departing within a few hours. The staging point sat adjacent to the Frank Hotchkin Memorial Training Center, a Los Angeles Fire Department facility that had rented the area from the Dodgers for a seminar unrelated to federal operations. A firefighter at the site told L.A. TACO that

“some unwelcome people”
had driven onto the lot, underlining how unexpected the morning presence was for those who arrived expecting an ordinary training day.
The location—Dodger Stadium—was not incidental. Organizers and advocates have long argued that choosing a public, celebrated space for federal staging sends a
“chilling message,”
particularly after a citywide party that drew families from across Los Angeles. The morning scene unfolded less than 24 hours after the victory festivities, a juxtaposition described as
“especially jarring”
for undocumented residents and mixed-status families who linked the images of masked agents and unmarked vehicles to the most feared aspects of enforcement. One woman who works for the local school district said area schools were
“concerned and trying to find more information about why the agents were there,”
amplifying a familiar pattern in Los Angeles: when immigration activity surfaces, school administrators, teachers, and parent groups quickly begin checking on students, attendance, and the safety plans many campuses maintain for disruptive events.
The staging ended without public arrests at the ballpark, but it coincided with a separate enforcement action miles away. Later that same day, federal agents carried out a raid at a Home Depot parking lot in Cypress Park, arresting at least six people and detaining one more, according to witnesses who shared videos of agents surrounding a car where an infant sat in a baby seat. The images circulated widely, reinforcing anxieties in neighborhoods that have seen stepped-up activity by ICE and Border Patrol and sharpening questions about how and why agents had organized at Dodger Stadium hours earlier.
Neither former Dodgers owner Frank McCourt, who retains an ownership stake in the stadium parking lots, nor the Dodgers organization could be reached for comment about the federal agents’ presence in the lot next to the fire department training center. The silence followed months of tension around the team’s relationship to federal enforcement actions in and around the stadium grounds. Community advocates have urged the club’s leadership to distance itself from any operations that use the venue as a staging site, arguing that even an administrative separation—private ownership of the lots versus the stadium itself—does little to reassure residents who see the Dodgers’ brand inextricably tied to the property where agents gathered.
Those concerns are not new. Five months earlier, federal agents tried to enter the main stadium parking lot during a separate immigration operation but were turned away by staff, then relocated to a roadway leading to parking lot K to process people arrested in a nearby raid. A U.S. citizen caught up in that earlier incident reported being detained for hours and overhearing agents
“bragging about the number of people they were holding,”
an account that traveled quickly through local networks and added to the charged atmosphere around any subsequent signs of ICE or Border Patrol activity near the stadium.
Pressure on the team increased after those events. More than 50 community and religious leaders signed a petition urging the Dodgers to oppose immigration raids and resist any use of stadium property for processing or staging. In response, the club pledged $1 million to support families affected by enforcement. Dodgers president Stan Kasten said at the time:
“What’s happening in Los Angeles has reverberated among thousands upon thousands of people, and we have heard the calls for us to take a leading role on behalf of those affected. We believe that by committing resources and taking action, we will continue to support and uplift the communities of Greater Los Angeles.”
The promise was welcomed by advocacy groups but did not resolve lingering questions about who controls which parts of the property and to what extent the team can prevent federal agencies from staging on adjacent lots.
For residents near Chavez Ravine, the sight of unmarked vehicles and tactical gear at Dodger Stadium—the city’s largest gathering spot—was enough to set off a day of phone calls and text messages. As the morning unfolded, school attendance officials monitored absences and parent groups compared notes about what was happening near the stadium and at job sites across the Eastside. The woman who works for the local school district said schools were
“concerned and trying to find more information about why the agents were there,”
echoing a caution that often sweeps through campuses when immigration enforcement is reported nearby. Even after agents left by 10 a.m., rumors persisted, a common dynamic when seen-from-afar operations unfold without immediate official explanation.
Agents’ proximity to the Frank Hotchkin Memorial Training Center further complicated matters. Firefighters and trainees who expected to focus on a seminar suddenly found attention shifting to the adjacent lot and the unusual morning movements of federal vehicles. One firefighter’s description—
“some unwelcome people”
—captured the discomfort of sharing space with an operation that neither the fire department nor the Dodgers had announced. Though the agents were not part of the seminar and had no role in the training, simply being next to a civic facility added to public confusion about who controlled the space and what was underway.
The Cypress Park Home Depot arrests later in the day put a sharper point on that confusion. Witnesses described a cluster of agents surrounding a car, with a baby visible in a seat, and recounted at least six arrests along with one detention at the site. The timing—after the morning staging—fueled speculation that agents had used Dodger Stadium as a rendezvous point ahead of multiple operations in the city, though federal officials did not publicly confirm any connection. For people accustomed to commuting past the stadium and shopping at the same big-box stores where the arrests took place, the day’s events felt linked even without an official narrative.
Advocates say staging high-profile operations at places like Dodger Stadium erodes trust far beyond the individuals targeted for arrest, seeding fear across entire neighborhoods. They argue the approach sends a
“chilling message”
to immigrants and U.S. citizens alike, making families wary of civic spaces and hesitant to report crimes or cooperate with authorities. The effect, they say, is not just emotional. Schools, clinics, and workplaces absorb the shock when staff and clients stay home or avoid services after hearing about raids and large-scale staging near landmarks they visit regularly.
The Dodgers’ effort to thread the needle—supporting affected families while emphasizing they have no role in federal enforcement—remains under scrutiny. The team’s $1 million pledge won praise, but questions remain about the mechanics of property control, particularly given Frank McCourt’s ownership stake in the parking lots and the proximity of civic facilities like the fire department’s training center. In practical terms, the issue often comes down to who grants access to which portion of the lots and whether private lease agreements or public safety considerations can limit how federal agencies use the space.
The memory of the earlier attempt to enter the main parking lot lingers for those who remember staff turning agents away, only to see them relocate to a roadway near parking lot K for processing. For people who were detained and released without charge, the experience still stings. The U.S. citizen who said they were held for hours during that prior operation described overhearing agents
“bragging about the number of people they were holding,”
a line that resonated in community meetings and on social media as a shorthand for what residents fear most about broad-sweep detentions.
On the day after the World Series parade, the optics were undeniably stark: city-owned roads filling with fans waving pennants, and by the next morning, Dodger Stadium’s parking lot featuring masked personnel in tactical helmets and vests. Even without arrests at the stadium itself, the symbolism was powerful enough to set off alarm bells throughout the city’s immigrant neighborhoods. For Los Angeles leaders who have promoted the stadium as a unifying civic space, the scene forced a fresh conversation about how federal agencies conduct operations in public view.
Officials at ICE and Border Patrol did not immediately release public statements about the morning presence at the stadium or the timing of the later Home Depot arrests. The agencies typically describe enforcement operations as targeted and intelligence-driven, focusing on specific individuals with outstanding orders or criminal histories. Their broader posture is outlined on the U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement website, which details how operations are planned and carried out nationally. In Los Angeles, however, the setting matters as much as the tactic. Residents draw a line between routine workplace or home arrests and highly visible gatherings at sites like Dodger Stadium, where agents in green vests and white zip ties can be seen from passing cars and neighborhood hillsides.
By mid-morning on November 4, agents had left the stadium area, and the Frank Hotchkin Memorial Training Center resumed its planned seminar without further incident. But the images lingered: unmarked vehicles angled across the lot, masked agents in tactical helmets stepping in and out of SUVs, and a firefighter’s terse impression of
“some unwelcome people”
where public servants had gathered to train. For families who saw friends arrested at the Cypress Park Home Depot hours later, the question remained whether the city could expect more days like this—quiet starts, quick departures, and long shadows.
The Dodgers organization’s future steps will be closely watched. The pledge of $1 million signaled a willingness to aid families, and Stan Kasten’s statement—
“What’s happening in Los Angeles has reverberated among thousands upon thousands of people, and we have heard the calls for us to take a leading role on behalf of those affected. We believe that by committing resources and taking action, we will continue to support and uplift the communities of Greater Los Angeles,”
—outlined a role the club sees for itself as more than a sports franchise. Yet as long as parts of the parking lots remain accessible to outside users and adjacent to civic facilities, the team will face recurring questions whenever ICE or Border Patrol vehicles line up near the stadium’s familiar blue signs.
For now, the events of November 4 serve as a case study in how immigration enforcement in Los Angeles can ripple far beyond its immediate targets. A single morning staging at Dodger Stadium led to hours of uncertainty in classrooms, concern among firefighters attending a seminar, and an afternoon of arrests at a neighborhood hardware store lot in Cypress Park, where bystanders watched an infant sit in a baby seat as agents moved in. The day closed without clarity about the purpose of the early staging, but for residents in the city’s immigrant corridors, the takeaway was clear enough: the lines between celebration and enforcement can blur quickly, and the backdrop—whether a ballpark or a big-box parking lot—shapes how the entire city feels the impact.
This Article in a Nutshell
On November 4, 2025, about 100 ICE and Border Patrol agents staged in Dodger Stadium’s parking lot 13 near the Frank Hotchkin Memorial Training Center, drawing alarm from residents, firefighters and school officials. Agents in tactical gear arrived in unmarked vehicles and departed by 10 a.m.; no arrests were reported at the stadium. Later that day, a separate Cypress Park Home Depot raid led to at least six arrests and another detention, intensifying community concerns about using prominent civic spaces for enforcement operations.