Lincoln Heights, Ohio Black Community Forms Safety Patrol After Neo-Nazi Rally

A recent neo-Nazi rally on the outskirts of Lincoln Heights, Ohio – a majority-Black suburb – has prompted local residents to take their safety into their own hands. In early February, an armed group of white supremacists demonstrated at the village’s entrance, leaving the Black community shaken and outraged. Frustrated by what they saw as an inadequate police response, Lincoln Heights residents quickly organized a community-led safety program. This bold initiative, featuring an armed neighborhood patrol, aims to protect their community from racist threats and has spurred broader conversations about racial justice, public safety, and the legacy of Black community activism.

Neo-Nazi Rally Sparks Outrage in Lincoln Heights

On February 7, 2025, a dozen neo-Nazi demonstrators hung a white supremacist banner and waved swastika flags on an I-75 overpass at the edge of Lincoln Heights, deliberately targeting the predominantly Black community. Masked members of the hate group – several carrying assault rifles – spewed racial slurs as local residents and counter-protesters gathered to confront them. The standoff created a charged, volatile scene, with Hamilton County Sheriff’s deputies positioned on the Lincoln Heights side of the overpass and officers from neighboring Evendale on the other. Tensions escalated until the neo-Nazis abruptly ended their demonstration after about 45 minutes, piling into the back of a U-Haul truck and driving away. No arrests were made, as police later explained that the extremists were exercising open-carry rights and ostensibly hadn’t broken any laws. For Lincoln Heights residents, however, the spectacle of armed Nazis invading their community – right by a local elementary school – was harrowing and infuriating, leaving them questioning why authorities hadn’t done more to stop the brazen display of hate.

Community members quickly voiced their anger and fear. At a packed town hall meeting shortly after the incident, Lincoln Heights Mayor Ruby Kinsey-Mumphrey opened with a heavy heart, decrying “the beast that came to our community”. Dozens of residents vented frustration that law enforcement protected the provocateurs instead of arresting them. “My biggest concern was those children… Those thugs that you allowed into our community caused terror,” one resident lamented, noting the neo-Nazis rallied alarmingly close to a school. Many in attendance pressed officials for answers: How did this hate group operate openly for nearly an hour? Why were they escorted out instead of detained? The lack of clear answers only amplified local resolve to ensure such an event would never happen again in their village.

In the days that followed, the wider Cincinnati area rallied in solidarity with Lincoln Heights. Hundreds participated in counter-events after the neo-Nazis left – including peaceful vigils and prayer gatherings on that same overpass . Supporters hung banners reading “Love Wins” and “Everyone is Welcome Here” in the spot where white supremacists had flaunted their swastikas. For longtime residents like Tia Evans, the outpouring of unity was uplifting. “That meant so much to me… It’s about what happened the next day. It’s about that unity,” Evans said, emphasizing that the community’s strength would not be defined by one hateful event. Still, alongside these hopeful displays, Lincoln Heights prepared to take more direct action to safeguard their neighborhood.

A Historically Black Community with a Legacy of Resilience

Lincoln Heights holds a unique place in U.S. history as the first self-governing African-American municipality north of the Mason-Dixon Line. Founded in the 1920s by Black families (many of whom worked in nearby industrial plants), the village was born out of a desire for self-determination at a time when segregation and discrimination were rampant. Early residents built the community with their own hands and fought for basic services. In 1939, they petitioned to incorporate as an official village to gain funding for infrastructure like paved roads, fire brigades, and police. White resistance was fierce: neighboring jurisdictions and county officials opposed a self-governing Black suburb and slashed the proposed boundaries. When Lincoln Heights finally won incorporation in the late 1940s, it was granted only about 10% of the land originally sought. Nevertheless, the community thrived on pride, faith, and self-reliance. “You knew who you were, you just fought for what you wanted,” recalls Carolyn Smith, an author whose family has deep Lincoln Heights roots. “That’s what Lincoln Heights was all about — you fight for what you want”.

This legacy of resilience has been tested over the years. Longtime residents remember past incursions by hate groups; in the 1960s, for example, Ku Klux Klan members burned a cross in a Lincoln Heights schoolyard – a chilling reminder of the threats the village has faced. The community endured decades of underinvestment and even environmental injustice (such as the constant gunfire noise from an adjacent law enforcement shooting range, which officials only recently agreed to relocate. Through it all, Lincoln Heights citizens have looked out for each other. Generations have grown up with the understanding that, when outside authorities failed to keep them safe, the community would band together to protect itself. It was in this spirit that residents responded to the neo-Nazi rally – channeling a familiar resolve born from history.

Community Response: From Vigilance to Action

Even as the town hall meeting unfolded on the day of the rally, some Lincoln Heights residents had already sprung into action. Armed neighbors took up positions near the overpass where the neo-Nazis had gathered, effectively standing guard to prevent any further incursion. This impromptu neighborhood watch was a visceral reaction to the perceived failure of law enforcement. “When I pulled into this community just a half hour ago, the first thing I saw was a man standing on the corner to guard the community. It brought tears to my eyes,” Hamilton County Sheriff Charmaine McGuffey said at the meeting, moved by the sight of residents protecting their own streets . The sheriff acknowledged the deep unease sparked by the day’s events and understood why locals felt compelled to keep watch.

Over the next several days, that ad-hoc vigilance evolved into a more organized effort. Residents formalized a Safety and Watch Patrol – a civilian-led neighborhood safety program – to deter any future threats and reassure wary neighbors. Volunteers, including veterans and trained firearm owners, began patrolling the village, especially after dark. They communicated via walkie-talkies and group texts, keeping an eye out for any suspicious activity or outsiders matching the profile of the Feb. 7 intruders. “We’re not out here looking for trouble,” one patrol member explained at a community meeting, “We’re making sure our people can sleep safe at night.” The very presence of the patrol, armed and visible, was meant to send a clear message: Lincoln Heights would not be caught off-guard again.

This grassroots safety initiative gained national attention as an example of community self-defense. Masked, armed civilians now patrol the streets of Lincoln Heights in an effort to shield their neighbors after the traumatic neo-Nazi demonstration. Residents say they were driven to act after video footage showed local police seemingly shielding the white supremacists from angry counter-protesters, rather than decisively dispersing the hate group. In their view, if authorities could not – or would not – protect a Black community from armed extremists, then the community would protect itself. “We pay for policing, but when we needed help, we got excuses,” said one frustrated resident, referencing the sheriff deputy’s explanation about open-carry laws. “So we’re going to do what we have to do to keep our families safe.” Such sentiments, shared widely in Lincoln Heights, fueled the rapid mobilization of the safety patrol.

Formation of the Lincoln Heights Safety Patrol

By mid-February, the Lincoln Heights Safety and Watch Patrol was in full force – an organized group of local volunteers dedicated to safeguarding the village. Many patrol members wear black tactical gear and face coverings, a uniform meant both to provide anonymity and create a bold visual deterrent to trespassers. The patrol’s leader is Daronce Daniels, a village councilmember who helped spearhead its creation. Daniels, a lifelong resident, is also a vocal community activist; he and others began recruiting able-bodied neighbors to join the patrol almost immediately after the rally. “This is what ‘neighbors watching out for neighbors’ looks like in 2025,” he said. “We won’t be intimidated in our own hometown.”

However, the emergence of an armed citizen patrol has not been without controversy or complication. There have been reports of tense encounters as the patrol established its presence. For example, local business owner Jim Meister told reporters he confronted a suspicious car parked in an empty lot next to his property, only to have three armed men in black emerge – members of the new patrol. When Meister threatened to call police, one man chillingly replied, “We are the police. We’re protecting Lincoln Heights,” according to Meister’s account. In the exchange that followed, one patrol member allegedly pointed a rifle at him, disputing his right to be on the lot until sheriff’s deputies arrived and confirmed Meister owned the property. Incidents like this have led to multiple 911 calls from startled residents and passersby, reflecting a mix of gratitude for the extra security and concern about possible vigilantism.

Local officials have taken a cautious stance on the patrol. Sheriff McGuffey, whose deputies police Lincoln Heights alongside Evendale’s force, has stated that while citizens have a right to protect themselves, armed groups cannot assume police duties. “Nobody has addressed [the armed patrol] with the sheriff’s office. If they do, we will certainly articulate what can and can’t be done in that area,” McGuffey noted, emphasizing that the sheriff’s department does not sanction any kind of neighborhood militia. She warned that confronting hate with more arms could dangerously play into the neo-Nazis’ tactics, potentially provoking violence. At a town hall meeting, some officials urged residents to be cautious: “Understand, when you take up guns, there are risks. We don’t want anyone getting hurt or the situation escalating,” one councilmember said, urging a balance between vigilance and restraint. The safety patrol’s organizers have been meeting with law enforcement to establish guidelines, hoping to strike a cooperative balance. For now, the patrol continues its daily rounds, motivated by the mantra that community safety is community power, but mindful of the legal lines they must walk.

Community Leaders Demand Accountability

While the safety patrol kept watch on the streets, Lincoln Heights leaders also pursued justice through official channels. They directed their outrage toward the authorities whose response they found lacking – in particular, the Village of Evendale. (Lincoln Heights contracts with the Evendale Police Department for local policing, paying about $1 million annually for their services.) In the wake of the rally, many in Lincoln Heights felt betrayed by Evendale’s leadership and police, accusing them of failing to protect a Black community under threat. In late February, the Lincoln Heights Village Council and the Lincoln Heights Missionary Baptist Church announced a public boycott of all businesses in Evendale to demand accountability. They urged residents and allies to refrain from spending “a penny in Evendale” until concrete steps were taken in response to the neo-Nazi incident.

At a press conference on February 24, hosted at the Baptist church, local leaders outlined a list of specific demands. Surrounded by clergy, activists, and even members of the new safety patrol, Councilman Daronce Daniels spoke passionately about the community’s needs. “This is a Hamilton County issue, this is an American issue,” Daniels said, standing before a crowd holding up the racist flyers that neo-Nazis had littered around the neighborhood. “Choose what side of history you’re going to be on. Are you on the side of Nazis and hate, or on the side of being an American?” The press conference detailed several actions Lincoln Heights expected from Evendale’s officials and police:

• A full investigation of the Feb. 7 incident – including the release of all unedited body-camera footage from that day. Community members want total transparency into how police handled (or mishandled) the situation.
• Support for those affected by hate, such as counseling for students who were traumatized by witnessing the neo-Nazi rally. (The overpass is near a school, and many children and parents in the community were deeply shaken.)
• A comprehensive safety and accountability plan to prevent similar incidents and improve police responsiveness. This could include clearer protocols for handling armed demonstrations by hate groups.
• Tangible respect and cooperation from Evendale – symbolized by allowing Lincoln Heights residents access to certain shared resources, like Evendale’s public pool, which has been a point of contention in the past. The subtext is a call for treating Lincoln Heights residents as equal neighbors, not outsiders.

Additionally, Lincoln Heights officials have floated the idea of reinstating their own police department after decades of relying on outside agencies. The neo-Nazi rally was a wake-up call that perhaps a dedicated local force, one directly accountable to the village, is necessary to ensure community trust and safety. This proposal underscores the depth of frustration with the status quo and the desire for self-determination in policing.

The public pressure yielded some results. Evendale’s Mayor, Richard Finan, acknowledged the community’s outrage and agreed to take action. “We owe it to our community and all those affected by Feb. 7 to learn from that day and strengthen trust,” Mayor Finan stated, announcing that Evendale had hired an outside firm to review the police response. The village brought in 21CP Solutions – a consulting group led by a former Philadelphia police commissioner – to conduct an independent investigation into how law enforcement handled the demonstration. Mayor Finan also promised to release all 16 hours of police body-camera footage for public review and assured that any Evendale officers found to have improperly aided the neo-Nazis would “face consequences”. These steps were seen as positive but belated; Lincoln Heights leaders welcomed the review but noted they were not invited to be part of the decision-making, and they remain vigilant about the follow-through.

At that Feb. 24 press conference, the scene itself spoke volumes about Lincoln Heights’ determination. Community members stood shoulder to shoulder in the church sanctuary – some holding the hateful propaganda left behind by the neo-Nazis – as clergy and officials addressed the crowd . Daronce Daniels and Mayor Kinsey-Mumphrey stood at the forefront, backed by men and women of the Safety and Watch Patrol dressed in black tactical attire. It was a powerful tableau of solidarity, faith, and resolve. “No arrests, no citations – nothing,” lamented Rev. Dr. Julian Cook, the church’s pastor, highlighting the failure to hold the neo-Nazis accountable. Yet, he praised the community’s response, from the patrols to the boycott, as necessary steps: “We have to protect our own and demand better. This is how we send the message that hate is not welcome in the Valley.” That message – hate is not welcome here – has resounded through Lincoln Heights in the weeks since the rally, carried by everyone from elected officials to ordinary citizens standing guard on their block.

Leaders from Lincoln Heights and nearby communities hold up racist flyers left by neo-Nazis while discussing future actions at a Feb. 24 press conference. Daronce Daniels (at podium), a councilmember and head of the Safety & Watch Patrol, addresses the crowd as patrol members in black stand by for security.

Broader Implications for Racial Justice and Community Activism

The events in Lincoln Heights reverberate far beyond one Ohio village. In a time of rising visibility for white supremacist groups across the country, this community’s experience illustrates both the dangers of hate and the power of grassroots activism. The neo-Nazi rally in Lincoln Heights was an unsettling reminder that even small, predominantly Black towns are not off-limits to the reach of extremist hate. It highlighted the ongoing challenges of ensuring public safety for marginalized communities, and it raised pressing questions about the role – and reliability – of law enforcement when bias and racism are in play.

Lincoln Heights’ response also fits into a broader historical pattern of Black community self-defense and mutual aid. From the Reconstruction era through the civil rights movement, Black Americans have often had to organize their own protection and advocacy in the face of hostile authorities or indifferent institutions. The formation of an armed neighborhood patrol in 2025 draws inevitable comparisons to past self-protection efforts – such as the Deacons for Defense of the 1960s or the Black Panther Party’s community patrols – where Black citizens banded together to guard against racially motivated threats when official protection was inadequate. While the context today is different, the underlying principle is similar: when your community is under attack, you have the right to defend it.

There are, of course, complexities and risks to this approach. Even well-intentioned citizen patrols can lead to unintended escalations, as seen in the confrontation with the local businessman. The line between community watch and vigilantism can blur, potentially creating new tensions with authorities or even within the community itself. Center-left and civil rights advocates generally support the Lincoln Heights residents’ determination to stand up to hate, yet many also caution that the ultimate goal is a just, accountable police system – not a permanent state of self-policing. “We shouldn’t be in a situation where neighbors feel they must become de facto police,” one activist commented, “but until we fix the system, I can’t blame them for doing so.” The situation in Lincoln Heights underscores the urgent need for policing reforms that prioritize the protection of Black communities and equitable responses to hate incidents, so that residents don’t feel abandoned.

On a hopeful note, the solidarity shown in Lincoln Heights offers a template for community-driven change. The combination of immediate action (like the safety patrol) and sustained pressure (like the boycott and public demands) is a powerful one-two punch. It demonstrates how a community can seize the narrative after a traumatic event – refusing to be victims, and instead organizing to assert their rights. As Mayor Kinsey-Mumphrey and others have noted, the ultimate measure of this incident will not be what the neo-Nazis did, but what the community did next. By coming together in fellowship and resistance, Lincoln Heights turned an attack into an opportunity to strengthen their bonds and demand justice.

For other communities across America, Lincoln Heights is a case study in resilience. It shows that confronting racism often requires both immediate grassroots action and long-term advocacy. Neighbors watching out for each other can prevent tragedy in the moment, and collective activism can drive institutional changes for the future. In the face of hate, the people of Lincoln Heights responded with courage, unity, and an unwavering insistence that they be the ones to define the future of their community – not the extremists who tried to terrorize it. In doing so, they’ve sent a message that echoes far beyond Ohio: when a community stands together, hate can be overcome by hope and strength.