On a recent morning in the Frayser neighborhood of Memphis, Carnell Vann Jr. stood behind his barber’s chair, scissors in hand, putting the finishing touches on a client’s haircut. The hum of conversation in Vann Cut Barber Shop was punctuated by a moment of reflection as Vann, 49, remembered his younger sister Marlanda. She had been buried just days before, after being shot while driving last month. "She was a lovable person. She just liked to love on people," Vann recalled with a sad smile. The violence that claimed Marlanda’s life is, according to Vann, an all-too-familiar reality in his community.
Memphis has long struggled with one of the highest violent crime rates in the United States. Though recent FBI data suggests a decline, many residents like Vann say it doesn’t feel that way on the ground. "They try to come up with a solution, but none of the solutions work," he said. "I'm hoping this solution right here works."
Vann was referring to the latest and most controversial attempt to curb the city’s violence: a federal intervention led by President Trump, which kicked off in Memphis the week of October 3, 2025. The plan, which involves more than a dozen federal policing agencies and the United States National Guard, marks a significant escalation in the federal government’s approach to crime in American cities. While the arrival of National Guard troops is expected within two weeks, federal agents have already made about 100 arrests, according to the White House.
The Memphis deployment is part of President Trump’s broader strategy to increase federal law enforcement presence in cities—particularly those run by Democrats. Yet, Memphis is the first city in a Republican-led state to see this level of intervention. Republican Tennessee Governor Bill Lee, who supports the initiative and formally requested the National Guard, has said the rollout will be gradual, potentially lasting weeks or even months.
The operation’s details remain somewhat murky, even as arrests begin to mount. According to the White House, the Memphis strategy is modeled on an ongoing operation in Washington, D.C., where a surge of federal law enforcement and National Guard troops has been in place for over two months. In D.C., the Guard has largely been tasked with beautifying city parks and patrolling federal property, while law enforcement officers have made more than 2,000 arrests. An analysis by NPR found that most of those offenses were misdemeanors, with a significant portion related to immigration.
In Memphis, reactions to the federal intervention have been mixed, with a blend of skepticism, fatigue, and cautious optimism. Tennessee State Representative Antonio Parkinson, a Democrat, captured the city’s conflicted mood. "People are tired," he said. "That's always been my position. I don't care what they throw at us, we will always take the lemons and make the best tasting lemonade that you've ever tasted out of it. And that's honestly the spirit of Memphis." Parkinson, who often meets with Governor Lee to advocate for long-term investment in local resources, admits he didn’t ask for the federal task force—but he’s determined to make the most of it. "Why on God's earth would you not want to be at the table with them? Because either you're at the table with them to be able to have input into what's going on, to protect your people, or you just let them go in based on all of their assumptions."
Despite the high stakes, protests against the National Guard deployment have been relatively muted in Memphis, especially when compared to other cities that have seen similar interventions. Many residents appear to be setting politics aside, hoping that any help—regardless of its political origins—might bring relief. Yet, not everyone is convinced this is the right path.
District 10 Shelby County Commissioner Britney Thornton, who represents several predominantly Black neighborhoods, recently found herself at the center of the debate. On October 1, 2025, she spoke publicly about her conflicted feelings regarding the National Guard’s presence. Thornton had voted in favor of a county resolution to block the Guard’s arrival, a measure that ultimately failed. A similar resolution in the Memphis City Council also fell short.
Thornton described the dilemma facing local leaders: "I think the thought is that if this force is coming, then you can get more with honey than vinegar." The vote was not easy for her, as her constituents were deeply divided. "I was conflicted every step of the way. But you know, when you unpack both sides, you really understand both sides want peace." Thornton’s primary concern is that the increased federal presence could lead to innocent people being caught up in broad sweeps. Still, she acknowledged the city’s willingness to give the initiative a chance. "People here are always going to give you that first chance. And then, after that, it is going to be Memphis," she said with a laugh—hinting that any breach of trust would be swiftly met with resistance.
For some, the intervention is less about politics and more about pragmatism. Thaddeus Johnson, a former high-ranking Memphis police officer and senior fellow for the Council on Criminal Justice, is watching the situation unfold with what he calls "cautious optimism." Johnson sees potential in the collaboration between federal, state, and local authorities. "We know that task forces that collaborate with local authorities, it really works," he said. "And I think Memphis does have an opportunity to kind of be a laboratory, to be a model where state, federal and local authorities can work together." Johnson also pointed out that the city’s crime situation has been improving, at least in part due to federal resources that have been present for several months. "So we would be remiss and unwise if we say that we don't want to see how we can work with additional resources, even if it means being a political feather in the hat of a polarizing administration." Still, he emphasized that the community needs to see real, lasting benefits—something that may prove challenging once the federal task force eventually departs.
Meanwhile, many in Memphis continue to grapple with the daily realities of violence and uncertainty. The muted protests and divided opinions reflect a city exhausted by years of hardship, but still fiercely protective of its autonomy and wary of outside interference. As federal agents and, soon, National Guard troops take up positions across Memphis, residents like Carnell Vann Jr. and local leaders such as Antonio Parkinson and Britney Thornton are left to hope—cautiously—that this latest intervention will finally bring the peace and safety their city so desperately needs.
Whether the federal strategy will succeed, or simply become another chapter in Memphis’s long struggle with crime, remains to be seen. For now, the city waits, watches, and hopes for the best—even as it prepares, in true Memphis fashion, to hold those in power accountable for the promises they’ve made.
