When Clifford “Buzz” Grambo hears Immigration and Customs Enforcement agents are near his Upper Fells Point home, he hops on his scooter.

The 43-year-old Navy veteran is part of a loose network of Southeast Baltimore residents who attempt to protect their neighbors from ICE’s stepped-up efforts to detain and deport undocumented immigrants. Guided by text messages and social media posts, Grambo zips through the streets near Patterson Park until he spots ICE vehicles, then begins to call.

“ICE is out!” he yells. “ICE is in the neighborhood.”

This is not how Grambo, a former chief petty officer who spent 20 years in the Navy, thought he would spend his retirement.

But he says he feels compelled to alert neighbors to the presence of federal immigration enforcement agents for the same reason he enlisted in the military after 9/11 — it’s his patriotic duty.

“This is not what I served for,” said Grambo, who retired in 2022. “My Navy, my country, my military used to invade countries for what we’re doing right now.”

Grambo hopes his scooter runs provide warning to immigrants and alert ICE agents that their actions are being observed. At a time when many feel powerless as the Trump administration cracks down on undocumented immigrants, sweeping up those with no criminal records and even U.S. citizens, Grambo hopes his rides empower others to take action.

“I get very frustrated by seeing how many people are not doing anything,” said Grambo. “My plan is to go out and make ICE as uncomfortable as possible but not break any laws.”

His efforts have caught the eyes of neighbors.

“To the hero riding down Eastern on a scooter chasing the unmarked ICE vehicle shouting ‘ICE is in the neighborhood’ ... keep up the good work!!” one posted in a neighborhood Facebook group last month.

“A modern-day Paul Revere,” another resident commented.

“Not all heroes wear capes,” wrote a third.

Grambo’s actions have also caught the attention of ICE. He says that several ICE officers pulled him over and threatened to arrest him after a ride in September. An ICE spokesperson did not return a request for comment.

But Grambo — bearded, bespectacled and often wearing a cap that displays his veteran status — is undaunted. He believes that ICE‘s increased enforcement measures are illegal and immoral. He feels a responsibility to protect the significant percentage of Latino immigrants who reside in Southeast Baltimore.

“The 10 minutes I can sit there and soak up their [ICE agents’] time is 10 minutes that they’re not snatching my neighbor,” he said. “I’m not obstructing justice. I’m alerting the community to organize a spot protest.”

Crisaly de los Santos, director of Baltimore and Central Maryland for CASA, a national immigrant advocacy organization, called such actions “very helpful.”

“It’s extremely crucial for folks to keep an eye out,” said de los Santos, explaining that without reports from witnesses, many immigrant families have no idea how their loved ones disappeared.

Immigrant families, she added, “feel good to live in a community where people are actually looking out for each other.”

Grambo’s neighborhood rides come as some communities across the nation scramble to confront stepped-up immigration enforcement. In Chicago, residents blasted plastic whistles to alert others to the presence of ICE. Dozens of New Yorkers, blocked ICE agents in Manhattan last week while shouting “ICE out of New York,” the AP reported. Agents reportedly shoved protesters to the ground and arrested at least one person.

People had been using crowdsourcing apps to track ICE activities, but Apple and Google recently blocked many of those apps.

While the Baltimore region has remained relatively calm, the clashes have turned violent elsewhere. ICE agents in Portland, Oregon, sprayed tear gas on demonstrators outside their offices this month and agents in Chicago in September allegedly shot a Presbyterian pastor in the head with a pepper ball as he prayed outside a detention facility.

But Grambo, and those who collaborate with him, are undeterred. Residents of Highlandtown, Butchers Hill, Upper Fells and the surrounding neighborhoods share information about ICE through text messages, a private Facebook group and other social networks.

One key source is a woman who spends her days strolling through the neighborhood — a professional dog walker.

“We can’t be complacent anymore,” said Allie Lieske, who owns Bmore Best Buds pet care company. “We’re using our white privilege to protect others. Doing something simple like just standing there makes a difference.”

Lieske, 33, who also lives near Patterson Park, said she frequently sees ICE agents as she walks dogs, particularly in the Highlandtown area, which has the city’s largest percentage of Latino residents.

When Lieske spots ICE workers, she’ll message Grambo and others and then linger nearby to observe them. “I’ll just hang out,” she said. “I let the dogs sniff a little longer.”

Another integral source keeps a close eye on the streets outside his bookstore and coffee shop.

Sam Bolenbaugh, the co-owner of Dreamers & Make-Believers in Highlandtown, said he has studied the habits of ICE agents who patrol the area. They drive dark SUVs, minivans and muscle cars — often Ford Explorers or Dodge Chargers — travel in groups of three to four vehicles, and circle around the block before parking, he said.

“They’re not subtle,” said Bolenbaugh, 35.

Bolenbaugh said he watched ICE agents arrest a man last month who had come out of the nearby Hispanic grocery store. The agents smashed the man’s car window, seized him, and left the damaged car in the street, Bolenbaugh said.

Bolenbaugh contacted Baltimore City Councilman Mark Parker, whose office was able to alert and aid the man’s family. A Baltimore City Police officer guarded the man’s car until his family was able to claim it, Bolenbaugh said.

Parker, who represents Southeast Baltimore, said such actions are among the many ways that residents are supporting immigrant neighbors.

“I have seen groups of neighbors showing up to keep an eye on the community at times when the community is gathered for special events,” said Parker, also a pastor at Breath of God Lutheran Church in Highlandtown. “I really appreciate that commitment to showing up for and with our neighbors.”

Parker said his office educates immigrants about their legal rights and provides “bystander training” for other residents to observe and advocate for immigrants being taken into custody.

Parker said the actions of Grambo and other bystanders apply “direct moral pressure” on ICE agents.

“What they’re doing is actively harming the community in the eyes of some of us,” said Parker. “It’s morally wrong, harmful, evil. There’s value in sharing that perspective even if people don’t throw down their badges.”

Grambo, who grew up in a Republican family in Southern Maryland, didn’t always feel this way.

“I’m not a hippie liberal,” said Grambo. “I believe in democracy.”

Grambo said he is a firm believer in the rule of law and feels that Trump’s immigration policies often violate the due process rights.

After retiring from the Navy, Grambo and his wife briefly moved to Missouri, but said they were drawn back to Maryland, and the cute rowhomes of Southeast Baltimore.

The first couple years of their life in Baltimore were quiet. Grambo walked their dogs, Molly, an elderly terrier, and Shamus, a young chocolate lab, around Patterson Park and befriended neighbors.

But once Trump was sworn into office in January, Grambo said he felt called to peacefully oppose policies that he finds antithetical to the country’s core values. He’s taken part in several demonstrations and rallies led by veterans groups in Washington, D.C., to protest the deployment of National Guardsmen there.

He hopes his scooter rides inspire others to take action — and let immigrants know they are not alone.

“I want them to feel like at least somebody out there is taking care of them,” he said.