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Elon Musk’s SpaceX Took Money Directly From Chinese Investors, Company Insider Testifies

10 hours 12 minutes ago

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Elon Musk’s SpaceX has taken money directly from Chinese investors, according to previously sealed testimony, raising new questions about foreign ownership interests in one of the United States’ most important military contractors.

The recent testimony, coming from a SpaceX insider during a court case, marks the first time direct Chinese investment in the privately held company has been disclosed. While there is no prohibition on Chinese ownership in U.S. military contractors, such investment is heavily regulated and the issue is treated by the U.S. government as a significant national security concern.

“They obviously have Chinese investors to be honest,” Iqbaljit Kahlon, a major SpaceX investor, said in a deposition last year, adding that some are “directly on the cap table.” “Cap table” refers to the company’s capitalization table, which lists its shareholders.

Kahlon’s testimony does not reveal the scope of Chinese investment in SpaceX or the identities of the investors. Kahlon has long been close with the company’s leadership and runs his own firm that acts as a middleman for wealthy investors looking to buy shares of SpaceX.

SpaceX keeps its full ownership structure secret. It was previously reported that some Chinese investors had bought indirect stakes in SpaceX, investing in middleman funds that in turn owned shares in the rocket company. The new testimony describes direct investments that suggest a closer relationship with SpaceX.

SpaceX has thrived as it snaps up sensitive U.S. government contracts, from building spy satellites for the Pentagon to launching spacecraft for NASA. U.S. embassies and the White House have connected to the company’s Starlink internet service too. Musk’s roughly 42% stake in the company is worth an estimated $168 billion. If he owned nothing else, he’d be one of the 10 richest people in the world.

National security law experts said federal officials would likely be deeply interested in understanding the direct Chinese investment in SpaceX. Whether there was cause for concern would depend on the details, they said, but the U.S. government has asserted that China has a systematic strategy of using investments in sensitive industries to conduct espionage.

If the investors got access to nonpublic information about the company — say, details on its contracts or supply chain — it could be useful to Chinese intelligence, said Sarah Bauerle Danzman, an Indiana University professor who has worked for the State Department scrutinizing foreign investments. That “would create huge risks that, if realized, would have huge consequences for national security,” she said.

SpaceX did not respond to questions for this story. Kahlon declined to comment.

The new court records come from litigation in Delaware between Kahlon and another investor. The testimony was sealed until ProPublica, with the assistance of lawyers at the Reporters Committee for Freedom of the Press and the law firm Shaw Keller, moved in the spring to make it public. SpaceX fought the effort, but a judge ruled that some of the records must be released. Kahlon’s testimony was publicly filed this week.

Buying shares in SpaceX is much more difficult than buying a piece of a publicly traded company like Tesla or Microsoft. SpaceX has control over who can buy stakes in it, and the company’s investors fall into different categories. The most rarefied group is the direct investors, who actually own SpaceX shares. This group includes funds led by Kahlon, Peter Thiel and a handful of other venture capitalists with personal ties to Musk. Then there are the indirect investors, who effectively buy stakes in SpaceX through a middleman like Kahlon. (The indirect investors are actually buying into a fund run by the middleman, typically paying a hefty fee.) All previously known Chinese investors in SpaceX fell into the latter category.

This year, ProPublica reported on an unusual feature of SpaceX’s approach to investment from China. According to testimony from the Delaware case, the company allows Chinese investors to buy stakes in SpaceX so long as the money is routed through the Cayman Islands or other offshore secrecy hubs. Companies only have to proactively report Chinese investments to the government in limited circumstances, and there aren’t hard and fast rules for how much is too much.

After ProPublica’s report, House Democrats sent a letter to Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth raising alarms about the company’s “potential obfuscation.” “In light of the extreme sensitivity of SpaceX’s work for DoD and NASA, this lack of transparency raises serious questions,” they wrote. It’s unclear if any action was taken in response.

Kahlon has turned his access to SpaceX stock into a lucrative business. His investor list reads like an atlas of the world. The investors’ names are redacted in the recently unsealed document, but their addresses span from Chile to Malaysia. One is in Russia. At least two are in mainland China. One is in Qatar. (In one email to SpaceX’s chief financial officer, Kahlon said a Los Angeles-based fund had money from the Qatari royal family and was already invested in SpaceX.)

“You made a big fortune,” a China-based financier wrote to Kahlon four years ago. “Lol something like that. SpaceX has been the gift that keeps on giving,” Kahlon responded. “All thanks to you.”

Kahlon first met with SpaceX when it was a fledgling startup, according to court records. SpaceX’s CFO, Bret Johnsen, who’s been there for 14 years, testified that Kahlon “has been with the company in one form or fashion longer than I have.” Johnsen also testified that SpaceX has no formal policy about accepting investments from countries deemed adversaries by the U.S. government. But he said he asks fund managers to “stay away from Russian, Chinese, Iranian, North Korean ownership interest” because that could make it “more challenging to win government contracts.”

There are indications that by 2021, Kahlon was wary of raising funds from China. The U.S. government had grown increasingly concerned about Chinese investments in tech companies, and that June, Kahlon told an associate he was “being picky” with who he’d let buy into a new SpaceX opportunity. “Only people I want to have a relationship with long term. No one from mainland China,” Kahlon said.

But as he raced to assemble a pool of investors, those concerns appeared to fade away. By November 2021, Kahlon was personally raising money from China to buy SpaceX stakes. He told a Shanghai-based company that if it invested with him, it would get quarterly updates on SpaceX’s business development, “visits to SpaceX, and the opportunities to interview with Space X’s CFO,” court records show.

The Shanghai company ultimately sent Kahlon $50 million to invest in Musk’s business, according to court records. SpaceX had the deal canceled after the plan became public.

Do you have any information we should know about Elon Musk’s businesses? Justin Elliott can be reached by email at justin@propublica.org and by Signal or WhatsApp at 774-826-6240. Josh Kaplan can be reached by email at joshua.kaplan@propublica.org and by Signal or WhatsApp at 734-834-9383.

Alex Mierjeski contributed research.

by Justin Elliott and Joshua Kaplan

Chicago Cop Who Falsely Blamed an Ex-Girlfriend for Dozens of Traffic Tickets Pleads Guilty but Avoids Prison

11 hours 12 minutes ago

ProPublica is a nonprofit newsroom that investigates abuses of power. Sign up for Dispatches, a newsletter that spotlights wrongdoing around the country, to receive our stories in your inbox every week.

A former Chicago police officer facing trial for perjury and forgery has admitted he lied under oath dozens of times when he used an audacious alibi to get out of numerous speeding tickets and other traffic violations. Over more than a decade, he repeatedly blamed an ex-girlfriend for stealing his car and racking up the tickets — and each time, the story was bogus.

Jeffrey Kriv, one of Chicago’s most prolific drunk-driving enforcers during his more than 25 years as a cop, was sentenced to 18 months’ probation and ordered to pay $4,515 in restitution after pleading guilty last week to a lesser charge of felony theft. A plea agreement with prosecutors in Cook County, where Chicago is located, allowed Kriv to avoid jail time and ended the criminal case against him, but the implications of his actions go far beyond his own case.

A ProPublica analysis of court and police records has found that prosecutors have dropped at least 92 traffic and criminal cases that were based on arrests Kriv made and tickets he wrote. Most of the cases that were dismissed involved drunk and dangerous driving. Defense attorneys in those cases have cited Kriv’s perjury case and his credibility issue.

ProPublica and the Chicago Tribune previously detailed Kriv’s history of alleged misconduct as an officer, including that he’d been investigated at least 26 times over allegations of dishonesty for falsifying records, making false arrests and other matters. He was the subject of nearly 100 complaints from citizens and fellow officers in his career; most officers face far fewer.

Kriv denied the allegations in many of those cases and blamed others on how often he made stops and arrests. In the end, many of the investigations could not be pursued because his accusers did not sign formal complaints, and some complaints, including those that involved allegations of dishonesty, were not sustained by police oversight officials. In other cases, oversight officials found Kriv responsible for the misconduct.

He retired in 2023, just before prosecutors charged him.

Kriv’s plea deal was filed in Cook County court on Sept. 24, about a week before his case was scheduled to go to trial. Prosecutors for the Cook County state’s attorney’s office told ProPublica this week that Kriv had 56 of his own traffic tickets dismissed after providing false testimony to judges. That’s more than the 44 tickets that prosecutors had previously indicated in court records. The fines for those tickets would have been $4,515, the amount he was ordered to pay in restitution.

Addressing the fallout from Kriv’s perjury case on other court cases built on his policing, the state’s attorney’s office said it dropped pending cases against individuals who Kriv had arrested or ticketed because it could not proceed without his testimony.

“We could not call him as a witness due to the false statements he previously made in order to have his own personal tickets dismissed,” the office wrote in response to questions from ProPublica. One case was dismissed as recently as August, records show. Prosecutors said there are no pending cases in which Kriv’s testimony is needed.

The state’s attorney’s office said that, going forward, any claims from individuals who had been convicted in Kriv-involved cases will be “carefully reviewed.” There also are defendants who have not shown up in court and have warrants out for their arrests, so their cases could be called again.

“Our priority is to uphold our legal and ethical responsibilities while ensuring fairness,” the office said.

Under the plea agreement, Kriv admitted that he repeatedly blamed a girlfriend for stealing his BMW to get his tickets dismissed. “Well, that morning, I broke up with my girlfriend and she stole my car,” Kriv told one judge. He repeated similar stories again and again to get out of tickets for speeding, parking and red light camera violations involving his personal vehicles. Kriv also provided fraudulent police reports of car thefts as evidence. The judges then dismissed the tickets.

Kriv had been charged with four counts of perjury and five counts of forgery, all of them felonies. Each of those offenses would have been punishable by up to five years in prison.

Kriv’s attorney, Tim Grace, told ProPublica that he and Kriv would not comment.

The executive director of the Policemen’s Annuity and Benefit Fund of Chicago said the pension board will meet to decide if Kriv can continue to collect his pension benefits, given the felony conviction. Illinois law prohibits officers who are convicted of felonies related to their service from receiving pension benefits. Kriv’s pension payment is more than $6,000 a month.

In court last year, Kriv told a ProPublica reporter that he was innocent. “I am going to fight it,” he said at the time. “I don’t plan on taking any plea.” He complained that people accused of carjacking and gun offenses get probation, and he criticized prosecutors for treating him like a criminal. “I’m worse than a carjacker, allegedly,” he said.

He also said “it’s a shame” and “it’s terrible” that prosecutors have dropped cases against alleged drunken drivers and others because of concerns about his credibility. He said he wanted to testify in those cases and said prosecutors had sidelined him prematurely.

“You know how the system is: You are guilty until proven innocent,” he said.

by Jennifer Smith Richards and Jodi S. Cohen

Trading on Tom Homan: Inside the Push to Cash in on the Trump Administration’s Deportation Campaign

1 day 4 hours ago

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The first time a Pennsylvania consultant named Charles Sowell connected with border czar Tom Homan was when Sowell reached out on LinkedIn in 2021, looking for advice about border contracting work. Homan had finished a stint as acting director of Immigration and Customs Enforcement, capping a three-decade career in federal government. He and Sowell built a rapport, based partly on their shared criticisms of then-President Joe Biden’s border policies.

By 2023, the men had gone into business together. Sowell was paying Homan as a consultant to his boutique firm, SE&M Solutions, which advised companies — in some cases for a fee of $20,000 a month — seeking contracts from the agencies where Homan had once worked. In 2024, Sowell became chair of the board of Homan’s foundation, Border911, which championed tougher border security.

During his 2024 presidential campaign, Donald Trump made it clear that if he won reelection he would appoint Homan to oversee the sweeping crackdown on illegal immigration that he’d promised his supporters, which would likely involve billions of dollars in new contracts for private companies. At the Republican National Convention speech in which Trump accepted his party’s nomination in July, he said Homan would have a role in launching “the largest deportation operation in the history of our country.”

“Put him in charge,” Trump said, “and just sit back and watch.”

After Trump won and formally announced Homan would be returning with him to the White House, Sowell kept Homan on his payroll until the end of the year. Once named as the border czar, Homan said he would recuse himself from contracting, saying he would have no “involvement, discussion, input, or decision of any future government contracts.”

But several industry executives who spoke with ProPublica said at least half a dozen companies vying for a slice of the $45 billion Congress has allocated for immigration detention work had hired Sowell because he had led them to believe his connections to Homan would help their chances of winning government work.

Homan's business relationships are under greater scrutiny after MSNBC reported an FBI sting that allegedly caught him on tape accepting $50,000 in cash from undercover agents posing as would-be government contractors before he took the border czar post.

His relationship with Sowell raises fresh questions about the integrity of the billion-dollar contracting process for immigration enforcement, ethics experts say.

Just last month, Sowell and Homan’s senior adviser Mark Hall visited one of Sowell’s clients seeking to cash in on an unprecedented plan by the Trump administration to build temporary immigrant detention camps on military bases, sources told ProPublica. As recently as February, Hall too had been paid by Sowell’s firm, records show. At the same time, the extent of Homan’s recusal has been called into question: Records of internal meetings obtained by ProPublica showed that over the summer Homan was in conversation with industry executives about the government’s contracting plans.

ProPublica gleaned more details than previously reported by examining federal disclosure forms, government documents and internal communications from firms in the Homeland Security industry, and from interviews with Sowell and several current and former government officials, as well as executives at companies seeking contracts in the burgeoning detention sector. Most spoke on condition of anonymity because of their ongoing work in the sector.

Government officials in Homan’s position are required to steer clear of any activity that could impact their former business associates for a year after entering government. Discussing immigration-related contracts with industry players would represent a “clear-cut violation” of federal ethics regulations, said Don Fox, the former general counsel for the Office of Government Ethics, an independent agency in the executive branch.

“You shouldn’t be in those briefings,” Fox said. “You are either recused or you are not.”

It’s common for companies looking to land federal contracts to hire consultants and seek expertise of former government employees. Those relationships are subject to federal ethics rules designed to guard against conflicts of interest. The White House and DHS did not provide requested copies of Homan’s formal recusal documents, which might outline exactly what kinds of activities government lawyers told Homan should be off limits.

Homan and Hall did not respond to requests for comment. In an interview, Sowell said he and Homan no longer have a financial relationship. White House spokesperson Abigail Jackson said Homan has “no involvement in the actual awarding of a government contract.”

In his role as border czar, Homan “occasionally meets with a variety of people to learn about new developments and capabilities to serve the needs of the American people,” she said.

Kathleen Clark, a law professor at Washington University in St. Louis and an expert in government ethics, said, however, “It’s not just about tainted awards. If the industry believes the system is corrupt, then the public is harmed. And the damage has already been done.”

Growing Wealth

Homan spent more than 30 years in public service, eventually rising to become a senior figure at ICE, a division of the Department of Homeland Security, during the administration of President Barack Obama. He was acting ICE director during Trump’s first term until he left government seven years ago.

While out of public office, Homan was highly critical of Biden’s border policies and formed the nonprofit Border911 to “educate Americans on what it means to have a secure, well-managed border.”

Homan’s private-sector work before he returned to government transformed his finances. In 2017, he declared assets totaling a maximum of just $250,000 on his ethics disclosures following a career in federal service, a figure that excludes certain government retirement accounts.

By 2025, his net worth had grown to between $3 million to $9 million, the disclosure documents show. (The forms list assets in ranges, and a portion of his net worth may come from money he had saved in government retirement accounts.)

In his years out of government, Homan became a household name in conservative circles as a frequent contributor on Fox News. He started a consulting firm and was paid for public speaking engagements around the country, raising alarms about the record number of border crossings during the Biden administration. The dire situation at the border, he said, could require the intervention of the U.S. military and the hiring of private companies to carry out a mass deportation campaign. “We’re going to contract as much work out as we can, work that doesn’t require a badge and a gun,” Homan told Fox News in 2024.

After Trump made clear his intentions to tap Homan as border czar, Sowell reached out to government contracting experts, saying he was working with Homan’s Border911 Foundation to help streamline procurement for the incoming administration’s mass deportation policy, said two people who spoke with him.

Sowell, sources in the industry said, made it known he was bringing together a group of companies that could be in line for lucrative contracts building detention camps for the Trump administration.

In an interview with ProPublica in June, Sowell said when his clients wanted to understand DHS better, he would bring in Homan to get his perspective as a former senior ICE leader. Bloomberg recently reported about aspects of Homan’s business dealings with Sowell.

Hints of Homan’s financial relationship with Sowell can be found in Homan’s federally required financial disclosure forms, which contain limited information. The forms report that Sowell’s firm paid Homan some sum of money — more than $5,000 — sometime between 2023 and early 2025. They do not say how much or exactly when he was paid, but Sowell told ProPublica their financial relationship ended last November or December.

Separately, Hall disclosed he was paid $50,000 by Sowell for consulting in January and February before he entered government in February. Hall also was a part-time board member at the Border911 foundation from April 2024 to February, according to his LinkedIn page.

Sowell made public his affinity for Homan at an industry conference in April, where many major players were present: He spent $20,000 at a charity auction to purchase a commemorative quilt made from Border Patrol agent vests. It was signed by Homan.

Sowell did not name his clients, but ProPublica learned several are companies that build temporary shelters, staffing agencies that supply security guards and medical companies that provide health care services, though they did not have direct expertise in immigration detention. Sowell said he couldn’t comment on his conversations with Homan since Homan went back into government. “I don’t have a lot of opportunities to chat with him anymore, even as a friend,” he said.

“Tom is an exceptionally ethical person,” Sowell said in the June interview, adding that his and Homan’s work steered clear of any real or perceived conflicts of interest. “I’m exceptionally proud of this administration for not doing that type of ‘it’s who you know’ versus ‘what you can do’ type of contracting.”

Asked about additional details in this story before publication, Sowell declined to comment.

Sowell appears to still be in contact — at least to some extent — with the border czar’s office. Last month, he and Hall flew to visit the Houston offices of Industrial Tent Systems, a family-owned company that specializes in quickly building temporary structures. ProPublica learned that Industrial Tent Systems is one of Sowell’s clients. Hall was there that day to hear the company’s leaders pitch their plan to use their tents and services for immigration detention, even sampling some of the tacos they were hoping to serve detainees, according to two sources with knowledge of the meeting.

Industrial Tent Systems did not respond to a request for comment.

The White House said Hall has never been authorized by Homan to represent him.

“It is unusual,” said Gil Kerlikowske, a former commissioner of U.S. Customs and Border Protection who served as drug czar for Obama, when asked about the meeting. “As an adviser this would be totally inappropriate to meet with potential contractors.” Generally, he said, a top decision-maker would not meet with a potential contractor, who would typically have to go through “numerous hoops” to even request a meeting that may well be denied.

Another one of the companies seeking expertise from Sowell and Homan was USA Up Star, an Indiana-based company that specializes in building temporary facilities.

Homan and Sowell were both on the payroll of USA Up Star before Homan was named border czar, according to several industry sources with direct knowledge of the relationship and government documents.

Homan’s disclosures show only that USA Up Star paid him as a consultant sometime between 2023 and early 2025, but do not detail how much or when. During this time, a picture of Homan and the company’s owner and founder, Klay South, standing in front of a private jet was posted on social media. South said he had no comment.

Military Contracting

Sowell’s clients have been trying to navigate a byzantine but highly lucrative contracting landscape, as the Trump administration has pledged to arrest 3,000 immigrants a day and is seeking to double the number of detention beds.

Early this year, the Trump administration drew up plans to build a series of massive detention camps on military bases to hold immigrants as part of a deportation effort, the first of which was planned for Fort Bliss in El Paso, Texas.

An ICE detention facility under construction in August at Fort Bliss in El Paso, Texas (Paul Ratje/Reuters)

The administration came up with a novel way to fund that camp, drawing on a contracting process run by the U.S. military known as the WEXMAC (which stands for Worldwide Expeditionary Multiple Award Contract). Homan spoke to companies in the industry about those plans.

Records obtained by ProPublica show a contracting officer at the Department of Defense, which the administration now calls the Department of War, saying in a meeting that Homan had been talking to companies about the WEXMAC. “Border czar has been briefed by industry,” the official informed his colleagues. ”Border czar is most likely going to say something to SECDEF,” the official continued, referring to Secretary of Defense Peter Hegseth. Bloomberg also reported on the June meeting.

Inquiries into Homan’s previous work in the private sector and his business relationships are likely to ramp up following the reports of the $50,000 undercover sting. That federal investigation into Homan was launched after the subject of another inquiry — not Sowell — claimed the border czar was soliciting payments in exchange for the promise of future contracts should Trump return to power, a person familiar with the closed investigation said.

“This matter originated under the previous administration and was subjected to a full review by FBI agents and Justice Department prosecutors,” FBI Director Kash Patel and Deputy Attorney General Todd Blanche said in a joint statement. “They found no credible evidence of any criminal wrongdoing. The Department’s resources must remain focused on real threats to the American people, not baseless investigations. As a result, the investigation has been closed.”

The White House press secretary denied that Homan received the money, and Homan has said he has done nothing illegal. He has not been charged with any offense, and neither Hall nor Sowell has been accused of wrongdoing.

Democratic lawmakers are seeking audio and video evidence from the closed FBI case and have also raised questions about Homan’s financial ties to The Geo Group, a private prison firm he previously consulted for that has won lucrative contracts in recent months. The Geo Group did not reply to a request for comment.

Tens of billions of dollars of additional funding for immigration enforcement have yet to be spent. The detention camp contract at Fort Bliss, which could eventually hold 5,000 people, was awarded to a consortium of firms led by a company on the military contracting list for over $1 billion. It is the first of several such facilities planned in coming years.

A number of Sowell’s clients — including Industrial Tent Systems and USA Up Star — were among the close to 60 companies recently added to the WEXMAC. That makes them eligible to bid on those future immigration detention camp contracts.

Kirsten Berg and Al Shaw contributed research. Joel Jacobs contributed data analysis.

by Avi Asher-Schapiro, Jeff Ernsthausen and Mica Rosenberg

Lawmakers Across the Country This Year Blocked Ethics Reforms Meant to Increase Public Trust

1 day 11 hours ago

This article was produced for ProPublica’s Local Reporting Network. Sign up for Dispatches to get our stories in your inbox every week.

In Virginia this year, a legislative committee killed a bill that would have required lawmakers to disclose any crypto holdings. In New Mexico, the Democratic governor vetoed legislation that would have required lobbyists to be more transparent about what bills they were trying to kill or pass. And in North Dakota, where voters who were galvanized by a group called BadAss Grandmas for Democracy established a state ethics commission nearly seven years ago, lawmakers continued a pattern of limiting the panel’s power.

At a time when the bounds of government ethics are being stretched in Washington, D.C., hundreds of ethics-related bills were introduced this year in state legislatures, according to the bipartisan National Conference of State Legislatures’ ethics legislation database. While legislation strengthening ethics oversight did pass in some places, a ProPublica analysis found lawmakers across multiple states targeted or thwarted reforms designed to keep the public and elected officials accountable to the people they serve.

Democratic and Republican lawmakers tried to push through bills to tighten gift limits, toughen conflict-of-interest provisions or expand financial disclosure reporting requirements. Time and again, the bills were derailed.

With the help of local newsrooms, many of which have been part of ProPublica’s Local Reporting Network, we reviewed a range of legislation that sought to weaken or stymie ethics regulations in 2025. We also spoke to experts for an overview of trends nationwide. Their take: The threats to ethics standards and their enforcement have been growing.

“Donald Trump has been ushering a new cultural standard, in which ethics is no longer significant,” said Craig Holman, a veteran government ethics specialist with the progressive watchdog nonprofit Public Citizen. He pointed to Trump’s private dinner with top buyers of his cryptocurrency and the administration’s tariff deal with Vietnam after it greenlit the Trump Organization’s $1.5 billion golf resort complex; and he said in an email it was “most revealing” that the White House “for the first time in over 16 years has no ethics policy. Trump 2.0 simply repealed Biden’s ethics Executive Order and replaced it with nothing.”

The Campaign Legal Center, a nonprofit that pushes for ethics enforcement, documented the risks and challenges that specifically confront state ethics commissions across the country. Such commissions have a range of mandates, but they often enforce lobbying, campaign finance and conflicts of interest laws. In the center’s 2024 Threat Assessment report, it warned that “those who want to weaken ethics commissions are becoming more creative with how they approach their attacks, and all commissions should be battle ready.”

Delaney Marsco, the center’s director of ethics and the report’s lead author, told ProPublica, “Any attempts to chip away at ethics commission authority is actually just chipping away at the public’s right to know what’s actually going on in their government.”

Louisiana passed a law significantly weakening ethics standards by making it harder for the state Board of Ethics to launch and conduct investigations. The law raised the bar on when the 15-member board could launch its own investigation from “reason to believe” to “probable cause.” And where the board had been required to investigate any sworn complaint it received, now two-thirds of its members must agree probable cause exists before opening an inquiry.

The law, which had overwhelming bipartisan support, targets the processes that resulted in ethics charges against then-Attorney General Jeff Landry, who is now the governor; the private lawyer defending him against those charges helped craft the legislation. The ethics commission dropped the charges last month as part of a settlement deal.

Sponsoring Rep. Beau Beaullieu, a Republican, said that checks on the board’s power were needed in response to overzealous enforcement actions.

But more often, legislators stood in the way of ethics reforms.

In South Carolina, a sweeping Statehouse corruption probe during the 2010s led to the convictions of several legislative leaders and to the passage of a number of ethics reforms. “It’s been radio silent ever since,” Sen. Sean Bennett, a Summerville Republican who chairs the chamber’s Ethics Committee, told The Post and Courier. “There’s been attempts to do things, but they just have not gotten a lot of traction.”

And this year, legislators there moved in the other direction, introducing a bill that would have exempted government appointees from having to file statements of economic interest. These statements, required for all elected officials, most candidates for elected office and certain high-profile public figures like commission members or school district employees, include the disclosure of everything from an individual’s income sources and gifts received from special interests to any property or business interests in their name.

Sponsoring Rep. Mike Burns, a conservative Republican from the college town of Tigerville, argued the bill would help protect nonpaid appointees, who he said end up with fines because they often don’t know how to correctly file.

But in an interview with The Post and Courier, Rep. Roger Kirby, a Democrat from Lake City, pushed back. “Transparency is what the goal is, right? Why would we try to back away from that?”

South Carolina has two-year sessions, and the bill remains stalled in committee.

And in another example of legislation that sought to weaken reform, the leader of Oregon’s Senate Republicans at the time, Daniel Bonham, made a Hail-Mary effort and introduced a measure to dissolve the state’s ethics commission and allow state agencies to police themselves. The measure didn’t get out of committee, which, Bonham acknowledged in an interview with Oregon Public Broadcasting, was what he expected. Still, Bonham said he believes the ethics commission is “feckless” and its effectiveness and purpose merit “robust public debate.”

Across the country, even when some legislators did attempt to push forward ethics reforms, their efforts were largely blocked:

  • Virginia: Office holders would have been required to disclose digital assets, specifically defined as cryptocurrency, on their state ethics submissions. The disclosure would have been mandatory for any employee or elected official required to file a statement of economic interests with the Virginia Conflict of Interest and Ethics Advisory Council. Among those covered: the governor, cabinet members, General Assembly members, state officers and employees, judges and constitutional officers. The bill’s sponsor argued that without public disclosure, Virginia lawmakers, cabinet officials and judges who own digital currency could have potential conflicts of interest in creating new laws and regulating the industry. But the bill failed amid bipartisan opposition. Several lawmakers questioned whether it would open the door to further disclosure requirements.
  • Texas: Multiple state lawmakers filed legislation to combat misinformation and disinformation in political ads and to make it clearer who was paying for ads that might contain altered images or audio. The legislation followed a bruising 2024 primary campaign in which former Texas House Speaker Dade Phelan, a Republican, faced a barrage of false and misleading ads. One featured Phelan’s face superimposed over that of U.S. House Democratic Leader Hakeem Jeffries, who was shown hugging former U.S. House Speaker Nancy Pelosi. Related bills failed in both the House and Senate, where opponents dismissed arguments that voters were struggling to determine fact from misinformation. Conservative critics of the measure cited free speech concerns, among others.
  • North Dakota: Legislators stopped efforts to give more power and resources to the state’s ethics commission, which a successful ballot initiative created nearly seven years ago. The commission sought more freedom over how and when it conducts investigations, including the ability to carry out investigations even when no formal complaint was filed. Commission staff said the requirement for formal complaints dissuades some people from coming forward. But opposing lawmakers, nearly all of them Republican, said the measure lacked sufficient checks and balances on the commission’s power, echoing strong opposition from the governor and attorney general.
  • New Mexico: Democratic legislators made two runs at transparency. The first required lobbyists to disclose bills and their position on those bills within 48 hours of starting that lobbying or changing position. The legislation passed but was vetoed by the Democratic governor, who said the bill lacked clarity and the reporting window was too restrictive. Another ethics bill aimed to prevent nonprofits making independent political expenditures from exploiting a loophole in a 2019 campaign finance law requiring them to publicly disclose donor names, addresses and contribution amounts. That bill was ultimately killed under pressure from nonprofits that feared its effects.
  • Connecticut: The Office of State Ethics sought to expand conflict-of-interest provisions to prevent state officials and employees from taking official actions, such as awarding contracts, that would benefit their private employers or the private employers of their spouses. The bill also would have required public officials to recuse themselves if they have “actual knowledge” that the companies for which they or their spouses work would benefit. The legislation stalled, as it has repeatedly over the last decade and a half. This time, the office’s executive director, Peter Lewandowski, said objections came from those who argued that requiring lawmakers to recuse themselves because a vote might benefit a spouse’s private employer was too punitive.
  • Maine: A bill died in committee that would have required state legislators to disclose donations made to an organization by lobbyists or lobbyist associates on behalf of a legislator. Supporters, including sponsoring Sen. David Haggan, a Republican, said the bill would have increased transparency and also would have allowed the public to determine how prevalent the practice is. Critics called it impractical and questioned its necessity. The bill “adds a level of complexity that is not warranted by any behavior that anyone has been able to cite specifically,” said Sen. Jill Duson, a Democrat, who voted against it.

But ProPublica’s analysis did find some states, both red and blue, that had successfully enacted reforms. For example, in Maine, a bipartisan push for a waiting period of one year for legislative staff who want to become lobbyists won overwhelming support. Rhode Island’s Democratic legislative supermajority and its Democratic governor agreed on a prohibition against bid-rigging for state contracts. And in Oklahoma, lawmakers went so far as to overturn the governor’s veto to make self-dealing by government officials a felony offense, punishable by a fine of up to $10,000 and up to five years in prison. The governor said in his veto message the legislation would “create excessive bureaucracy with little meaningful impact.”

In Washington, legislators put into law a preexisting state requirement that lawmakers report on their financial disclosure forms any interest greater than 10% in a company or property. Though the bill was framed as a cleanup measure, critics pointed out that local officials are held to a much stricter standard. Local officials must disclose any financial interest greater than 1% when voting on a public contract and must recuse themselves.

What if “a real estate company offers a legislator a 5% interest in property that might benefit from a state project such as a highway interchange?” Rep. Gerry Pollet, a Seattle Democrat, asked in an example reported by The Seattle Times.

The 10% standard, he said, “undermines trust in the Legislature.”

by Gabriel Sandoval, ProPublica, with additional reporting by Nick Reynolds and Anna Wilder, The Post and Courier; Yasmeen Khan, The Maine Monitor; Lauren Dake, Oregon Public Broadcasting; Marjorie Childress, New Mexico In Depth; Louis Hansen, Virginia…

An American Friend: The Trump-Appointed Diplomat Accused of Shielding El Salvador’s President From Law Enforcement

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In August 2020, the president of El Salvador, Nayib Bukele, went to the U.S. ambassador with an extraordinary request. Salvadoran authorities had intercepted a conversation between a journalist and a U.S. embassy contractor about corruption among high-level aides to the president.

The contractor, a U.S. citizen, was no ordinary source. He collaborated with U.S. and Salvadoran investigators who were targeting the president’s inner circle. Over the previous year, he had helped an FBI-led task force uncover a suspected alliance between the Bukele government and the MS-13 street gang, which was responsible for murders, rapes and kidnappings in the United States. He had worked to gather evidence that the president’s aides had secretly met with gang bosses in prison and agreed to give them money and protection in exchange for a reduction in violence. The information posed a threat to the Bukele government.

Bukele wanted the contractor out of the country — and in Ambassador Ronald D. Johnson, he had a powerful American friend. Johnson was a former CIA officer and appointee of President Donald Trump serving in his first diplomatic post. He had cultivated a strikingly close relationship with the Salvadoran president. After Bukele provided Johnson with the recordings, the ambassador immediately ordered an investigation that resulted in the contractor’s dismissal.

It was not the only favor Johnson did for Bukele, according to a ProPublica investigation based on a previously undisclosed report by the State Department’s inspector general and interviews with U.S. and Salvadoran officials. The dismissal of the contractor was part of a pattern in which Johnson has been accused of shielding Bukele from U.S. and Salvadoran law enforcement, ProPublica found. Johnson did little to pursue the extradition to the United States of an MS-13 boss who was a potential witness to the secret gang pact and a top target of the FBI-led task force, officials said.

After he stepped down as ambassador, Johnson continued his support for the Salvadoran president despite the Biden administration’s efforts to curb Bukele’s increasing authoritarianism. He also played a prominent role in making Bukele Trump’s favorite Latin American leader, according to interviews and public records.

Johnson’s tight friendship with Bukele troubled top State Department officials in the Biden administration, who asked his successor, Jean Manes, to look into the firing of the contractor. She reached a blunt conclusion, according to the inspector general’s report: “Bukele requested Johnson remove [the contractor] and that was what happened.”

“Manes explained that [the contractor] was working on anti-corruption cases against individuals close to El Salvadoran President Nayib Bukele and Manes believed removing [him] was a way to ensure the investigations stopped,” the report said.

ProPublica has also learned that Manes’ review led to an extreme measure: She forced the ouster of the CIA station chief, a longtime friend of Johnson, because she felt he was “too close” to Bukele, according to the inspector general report. Senior State Department and White House officials said they suspected that Johnson’s continuing relationships with the station chief and Bukele fomented resistance within the embassy to the new U.S. policy confronting the Salvadoran president over corruption and democracy issues, according to interviews.

“Manes would go see Bukele to convey U.S. concerns about some of his policies. Then the station chief would go see him and say the opposite,” said Juan Sebastian Gonzalez, who received regular briefings about the embassy as the former senior director for Western Hemisphere affairs at the National Security Council.

ProPublica is not identifying the former station chief or the contractor to protect their safety.

After battling Bukele in public and her own embassy in private, Manes announced a pause in diplomatic relations and left El Salvador in late 2021. Days later, Johnson posted a photo on LinkedIn that sent a defiant message to the Biden administration: It showed him and Bukele smiling with their families in front of a Christmas tree at the Johnson home in Miami.

“It was great to spend some time in our Miami home with El Salvadoran President Bukele,” Ambassador Ronald D. Johnson, left, wrote in a Nov. 30, 2021, post on LinkedIn. (Ronald Johnson via LinkedIn)

The bond between the two men was at the center of a fierce political conflict that spread in Washington, San Salvador and Miami. Today, Johnson and Bukele — once minor players in U.S. foreign affairs — have emerged from the fray triumphant. On April 9, the Senate confirmed Johnson as ambassador to Mexico, arguably the most important U.S. embassy in Latin America. On April 14, Trump met with Bukele in the White House to celebrate an agreement that would allow the U.S. to deport hundreds of immigrants to a Salvadoran megaprison, elevating the global stature of the leader of one of the hemisphere’s smallest and poorest countries.

Johnson’s detractors accuse him of championing Bukele despite his increasing abuses of power.

“We didn’t have a credible or effective U.S. representative in that country. We had a mouthpiece for the government of El Salvador,” said Tim Rieser, a longtime foreign policy aide to former Sen. Patrick Leahy, a Vermont Democrat.

Johnson’s defenders argue that his strong ties to the Salvadoran president benefited U.S. policy objectives. Upon arriving in El Salvador, Johnson told his staff that he wanted Bukele’s support in reducing U.S.-bound immigration, the Trump administration’s top priority with the country.

“During Trump and Johnson’s time, the thinking was let El Salvador be El Salvador,” said Carlos Ortiz, the former attache for the Department of Homeland Security at the embassy, who describes himself as a friend and admirer of Johnson. “Let them deal with their own corruption. The U.S. focus was migration.”

A State Department spokesperson said it was “false” that Johnson had blocked or impeded any law enforcement efforts in order to protect Bukele or his allies and that the allegations made by Manes in the inspector general report were untrue.

In addition, Tommy Pigott, the department’s principal deputy spokesperson, praised Johnson for having “always prioritized our national interests and the safety of the American people above all else.”

“Thanks to President Trump’s and President Bukele’s strong leadership, we are ensuring our region is safer from the menace of vicious criminal gangs,” Pigott said. “Secretary Rubio looks forward to continuing to work with regional allies, including the Salvadoran government, in our joint efforts to counter illegal immigration and to advance mutual interests.”

The department provided a written statement from Johnson highlighting the Salvadoran president’s achievements.

“Our cordial relationship was based on honest and frank dialogue to advance issues of mutual benefit for both of our nations,” Johnson said. “President Bukele has continued to maintain widespread popularity and high approval ratings in his homeland. He transformed El Salvador from the murder capital of the world to one of the safest countries worldwide.”

Spokespeople for the CIA and Justice Department declined to comment. The White House referred questions to the State Department. The Salvadoran government did not respond to requests for comment.

Johnson arrives as the new U.S. ambassador to El Salvador in September 2019 and presents Bukele with his credentials during a visit to the Casa Presidencial. (Camilo Freedman/APHOTOGRAFIA/Getty Images) The Gang Pact

Manes had the unusual distinction of serving as the top U.S. diplomat in El Salvador twice — once before Johnson and once after.

She first arrived in El Salvador in 2016, as an appointee of President Barack Obama. It was her first ambassadorship. Manes earned a degree in foreign policy from Liberty University, the evangelical Christian college founded by Jerry Falwell, the television preacher and activist, and a master’s degree from American University in Washington, D.C. She joined the State Department in 1992 and served in cultural, educational and public affairs posts in several Latin American countries as well as in Afghanistan and Syria. Although more politically conservative than many of her diplomatic colleagues, she developed a reputation as a nonpartisan, hard-edged professional. Manes declined to comment for this article.

When Manes arrived, Bukele, the son of a wealthy executive of Palestinian descent, was mayor of San Salvador. Manes and Bukele got along well. In 2019, the 37-year-old Bukele ran for president as a populist outsider promising to defeat crime and corruption in a nation with one of the world’s worst homicide rates and a history of former presidents being charged with crimes. His political coalition defeated the traditional power blocs of left and right. The most dangerous national security threat that the new president faced was the MS-13 street gang, which the U.S. government had designated as a transnational criminal organization and the Salvadoran government as a terrorist group.

Manes admired Bukele’s reformist zeal, former colleagues said. During conversations after his election victory, Bukele assured her that he was devoted to rooting out lawlessness, even in his own party, and asked for the embassy’s support.

“Go after my people first, crack down on anyone who is corrupt, and on MS-13,” he said, according to a former U.S. official familiar with the conversations.

Bukele, though, had already been publicly accused of cutting deals with MS-13 and another gang while he was mayor. U.S. and Salvadoran investigators soon learned that the new president’s senior aides had entered into secret negotiations with the leaders of MS-13 who were imprisoned in El Salvador, according to U.S. court records, Treasury Department sanctions, interviews and news accounts.

Osiris Luna, Bukele’s prison director, and Carlos Marroquin, a presidential ally in charge of social welfare programs, reached an agreement with the gang’s ruling council, known as the Ranfla, according to U.S. court documents and interviews with U.S. and Salvadoran law enforcement officials. It was a more expansive deal than those struck by previous Salvadoran governments, which had offered the gang jailhouse perks such as prostitutes and big-screen televisions. Marroquin and Luna have not responded to requests for comment.

The council, which controlled tens of thousands of MS-13 members across the U.S., Mexico and Central America from prison, agreed to decrease killings and provide votes for Bukele’s party in exchange for financial incentives and political influence. According to court documents, the gang chiefs also asked the president’s men for an important guarantee: protection from extradition to the United States.

Homicide rates soon plummeted. Today, El Salvador is one of the safest countries in the Americas, and Bukele is one of the region’s most popular politicians. But the secret truce with the gangs made his government a target of the FBI-led multi-agency team, which was known as Joint Task Force Vulcan.

Trump had vowed to defeat MS-13 during his campaign and, in August 2019, created Vulcan to dismantle the gang. Its strategy was similar to the fight against Mexican cartels and Colombian narcoguerillas. Led by a Justice Department prosecutor in New York, the team combined agents from the FBI, Homeland Security Investigations and other agencies based around the United States and operating in El Salvador and neighboring countries.

The initial focus was to build cases against gang bosses on racketeering, terrorism and drug charges and extradite them to the United States. Soon, though, leads from informants and wiretaps spurred federal agents to expand their investigation to examine the deals between the gang and top Bukele officials, according to interviews and U.S. court records. As ProPublica has previously reported, Vulcan agents even filed a request with the Treasury Department to canvass U.S. banks for any signs that Bukele and other Salvadoran political figures close to him had laundered U.S. Agency for International Development funds as part of the deal with MS-13. The result of that request is unclear.

Vulcan also cooperated with a team of Salvadoran prosecutors who were accumulating their own evidence about the gang pact and a network of suspected graft that allegedly included the president’s inner circle.

The potential revelation of a secret deal posed a threat to Bukele because it could undermine his reputation as a crimefighter and expose him to possible criminal charges in the U.S. and El Salvador.

The Friendship

A month after the launch of the task force, Johnson succeeded Manes as ambassador.

He knew El Salvador, having led combat operations there as an Army Green Beret — one of 55 U.S. military advisers to the Salvadoran armed forces in the bloody civil war against leftist rebels in the 1980s, according to former U.S. officials and an online biography of Johnson.

“One of my specific tasks was to teach the soldiers respect for human rights,” Johnson said in his written response to ProPublica.

After rising to the rank of colonel, Johnson left the Army in 1998 and joined the CIA for a second career that included assignments in Iraq and Afghanistan and at U.S. Southern Command and U.S. Special Operations Command in Florida.

Johnson and Bukele came from different worlds. Johnson, now 73, grew up in Alabama. He was a devout Christian, favored suits and ties, and spoke with a Southern drawl. “I was raised in a small town and I was honored to work in the military as well as the CIA,” Johnson said in his statement to ProPublica.

Photos from early in his career show Johnson posing with weapons and fellow commandos in Latin America and other locales. As ambassador, he once parachuted out of a plane at a Salvadoran airshow.

Bukele was more than 20 years younger. He cultivated a hip image, wearing jeans, colorful socks and an assortment of sunglasses. He was adept at communicating on social media and posted frequently on X. He talked about reinventing his strife-torn nation as a mecca for bitcoin, surfing and tourism.

Almost immediately, though, it became clear the two had buena onda — a good vibe. Soon after his arrival, Johnson posted an X message quoting Bukele.

“I believe that with the United States, we have an alliance,” it read. “But I believe that with Ambassador Johnson and his wife, Alina, we will have a personal friendship.” Johnson shared the sentiment. In a recent interview, he recalled that he had “developed a very close personal relationship” with the president.

About three weeks after Johnson became ambassador, Bukele visited Trump in New York — the first Latin American leader to hold an official one-on-one meeting with the president in his first term. Trump lauded Bukele for being an enthusiastic ally in fighting MS-13 and in containing illegal immigration flows in Central America. In a post on X, Johnson declared, “If this isn’t a demonstration of the strength of our bilateral relationship, I don’t know what is.”

“Johnson was very successful in El Salvador, in developing a relationship with Bukele, in convincing Trump that El Salvador mattered,” said Thomas Shannon Jr., a former high-ranking U.S. diplomat who has worked in Washington as a lobbyist for the Bukele government.

Johnson and Bukele documented their growing friendship on social media. One post showed Johnson and his wife boating with Bukele and his family on an estuary in El Salvador. Another showed the ambassador and president eating cracked stone crab claws at a restaurant. They held joint press conferences and often dined together, according to interviews. Johnson’s embrace of the president struck some of his critics in El Salvador and Washington as excessive for a diplomat.

“Johnson insinuated himself into Bukele’s family and circle in a way that made some people in the U.S. government at the time uncomfortable,” Shannon said.

Others, however, believed that Johnson used his access as leverage in dealing with Bukele.

“He was trying to use his relationship in order to advance U.S. policy and U.S. objectives,” said a former embassy employee who served during Johnson’s ambassadorship. “He did so in a much more personal way.”

Johnson’s approach reflected his experience cultivating sources as a former intelligence officer, but that did not mean he was always in control, said a former Trump administration official familiar with the matter.

“Johnson wasn’t just recruiting Bukele. What’s remarkable is that Bukele was recruiting him,” the official said. “They were recruiting each other. It was a relationship in which Bukele had power.”

Bukele speaks during the opening ceremony in El Salvador for the 2021 International Surfing Association World Surfing Games. (Marvin Recinos/AFP/Getty Images) The Dismissal

As the friendship blossomed, U.S. embassy officers kept Johnson informed about the increasing evidence of the gang pact and high-level corruption, according to former U.S. officials. Officers in law enforcement and intelligence briefed the ambassador regularly, the officials said.

In mid-2020, investigators had a major breakthrough.

Luna, the president’s national director of prisons, made contact with U.S. embassy law enforcement officials, according to former U.S. officials familiar with the case. During a meeting at a discreet site, he admitted that he was part of talks with the gang but said that he was following Bukele’s orders, the officials said. He discussed the possibility of giving testimony as a protected witness in exchange for him and his family being brought to the United States.

Luna’s reluctance to testify against Bukele in a U.S. court caused the deal to fall through, but Vulcan investigators now had an insider account implicating the president, officials said.

“It was huge,” said a former official familiar with the case. “One of the strongest keys was when Osiris tells us, ‘I want you to know this isn’t me negotiating with gangs. This is Bukele’ — and other top aides — ‘and I don’t want to be the fall guy for them.’”

Bukele has publicly denied such allegations and has not been charged.

That August, a reporter for El Faro, a prominent investigative news outlet, was chasing an exclusive story to expose the gang pact. The story would feature voluminous evidence, including Salvadoran intelligence reports, government documents and even prison logs recording the visits of Luna and other Bukele aides to MS-13 leaders.

Bukele had been waging a harassment campaign against El Faro, which had aggressively covered corruption in his government. His security forces had installed Pegasus, the Israeli spyware, on the phones of some reporters, according to interviews and an investigation by researchers from the University of Toronto’s Citizen Lab.

One of the intercepted conversations was between the journalist and the U.S. embassy contractor. Well respected at the embassy and among Salvadoran officials, the contractor oversaw U.S.-funded cooperation programs for the State Department’s Bureau of International Narcotics and Law Enforcement Affairs. The American was working closely with the Vulcan investigators in the U.S. and El Salvador as well as the Salvadoran prosecutors collaborating with the task force. The intercepts indicated that he was providing information to the reporter, according to the inspector general report and interviews. ProPublica has learned that the contractor relayed information including handwritten Salvadoran documents about the gang negotiations.

After Bukele asked for the contractor’s removal, Johnson ordered an investigation by embassy security officials. They determined that the contractor had unauthorized contact with the El Faro reporter and that he had misled them about the contact, according to the inspector general’s report.

But there was something else: The U.S. security officials also worried about possible retaliation against the contractor. It was a remarkable acknowledgement that the Bukele government might resort to harming an American working for the embassy, especially given the president’s friendship with Johnson, according to the report and interviews.

The embassy security office’s “biggest concern, though, was [the contractor’s] safety because” his “statements to the press upset the El Salvadoran government and there was concern that [he] became a target of the El Salvadoran government,” the report said.

As a result of the investigation, embassy officials decided not to renew the employee’s contract, effectively dismissing him. He left the country at the direction of his supervisors in Washington within weeks of Bukele’s conversation with Johnson. The contractor retained a good reputation in Washington and has continued to work for the State Department on overseas assignments.

News of the case ricocheted among Latin America experts working in the White House, Capitol Hill and think tanks.

“It is highly, highly abnormal for an ambassador to dismiss an embassy staffer at the request of a foreign president,” said a former Hill staffer.

Senior U.S. officials questioned Johnson’s handling of the incident.

“Johnson’s reaction should have been, why are you spying on my staff? That’s the right answer for any U.S. ambassador,” said a former State Department official familiar with embassy operations in El Salvador.

In response to questions about the incident, the State Department said the “surveillance of U.S. personnel is not tolerated.”

In her review of the case, Manes would later express concern about “the issue of a foreign president requesting the removal of an embassy employee,” according to the inspector general report. She said the employee spoke regularly with the press as part of his job, “so that was not a deal-breaker,” according to the report. She was “not convinced [he] provided false statements” during the inquiry ordered by Johnson.

Manes wondered whether the contractor “had been let go appropriately, or had been unjustifiably removed at the request of Bukele.” She said she was unable to answer that question “with the information provided to her,” according to the report.

Johnson commented about the matter this year during his Senate confirmation hearing. Questioned by Sen. Jeanne Shaheen of New Hampshire, the ranking Democrat on the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, he defended himself but made no mention of Bukele’s role in the contractor’s departure.

“I was a little surprised when I heard that he had had an unauthorized meeting with a member of the press,” Johnson testified, “and I did what I think any manager would do at that point. I called in his department heads and I called in security and I said, ‘We need to investigate this and determine whether or not these accusations are true. And if they are true, I think we need to determine what kind of information might have been passed.’ And I deferred to his boss, really, as to what the final disposition should be in that case.”

The contractor’s removal led to a decline in U.S. embassy cooperation with Salvadoran anti-corruption prosecutors who were funded, trained and assisted by the State Department and other agencies, a former Salvadoran official told ProPublica.

“Nobody really replaced him,” the former law enforcement official said. “He was the most active of the Americans working with us.”

“El Salvador’s Battles”

Other events deepened concerns about whether Johnson was shielding Bukele and his allies from U.S. and Salvadoran law enforcement.

Johnson made clear to embassy staff that the Trump administration’s top issue in El Salvador was cooperation on immigration. In 2018, Trump had accused the Salvadoran government of letting MS-13 “killers” return to the United States after their deportation.

“El Salvador just takes our money,” Trump had declared in a post on X.

After Bukele became president, the governments signed an agreement allowing the U.S. to send refugees seeking asylum to El Salvador to await the outcome of their cases there. The Bukele government also deployed more than 1,000 officers to the border with Guatemala to prevent the smuggling of U.S.-bound migrants. And Salvadoran authorities permitted the continued arrival of U.S. deportation flights during the pandemic.

As a result, Bukele’s standing at the White House increased. During the early days of COVID-19, Trump told Bukele in a phone call that the U.S. would donate hundreds of ventilators to El Salvador. Trump said on X, “They have worked well with us on immigration at the Southern Border!”

Bukele posted this photo with Johnson speaking to President Donald Trump in April 2020 about El Salvador’s request for help with ventilators during the pandemic. (Nayib Bukele via X)

Johnson seemed to show less interest in the Vulcan investigation, former U.S. officials said. “We are not here to fight El Salvador’s battles,” Johnson would tell embassy employees.

“His general demeanor was do not push things that upset Bukele — he is our No. 1 ally on migration,” a former U.S. official said.

One of Vulcan’s early accomplishments was the first use of terrorism charges against an MS-13 leader. The allegations against Armando Melgar Díaz, alias Blue, included kidnapping, drug trafficking and approving the murder of U.S. citizens. Trump even had a press conference to announce the indictment. Prosecutors sent the Bukele government an extradition request for Melgar, who was jailed in El Salvador at the time, according to Salvadoran court records.

In a post on X from his official embassy account, Johnson promised that Melgar was going to “face justice thanks to cooperation between authorities.”

Despite that pledge, months passed without progress. U.S. and Salvadoran officials worried that Johnson was not applying pressure on Bukele about a request that Vulcan investigators expected to be an “easy win.”

“Ron Johnson didn’t do much to extradite Blue,” said a former State Department official with knowledge of the embassy. The Bukele government eventually denied the request. U.S. law enforcement officials suspected that Melgar knew inside details about the secret gang pact. He is believed to remain in a Salvadoran prison.

Johnson was also not entirely forthcoming in communications back to Washington, D.C., according to the former official, who said embassy staff told him that the ambassador blocked information in diplomatic cables about the pact between Bukele and MS-13.

“It was pretty clear that Ronald Johnson was so close that he absolutely did protect Bukele from allegations that Bukele was negotiating with the gangs,” the former official said.

Ortiz, the former DHS attache, defended Johnson. “Ambassador Johnson wouldn’t shelter Bukele,” he said. As “a former CIA officer, he knew how to navigate where he was close to someone but not cover for them. His interest was the interest of the United States, and the U.S. had a great relationship with El Salvador.”

Critics said Johnson’s hands-off approach was evident in his response to the biggest political crisis of his tenure. In February 2020, the Salvadoran legislature resisted Bukele’s proposal to seek a $109 million loan from the Central American Bank for Economic Integration for new vehicles and equipment for the police and military. The president responded by calling a special session and flooding the assembly with armed troops.

Following orders from Bukele, Salvadoran army soldiers occupy the Legislative Assembly in February 2020. (Salvador Melendez/AP Images)

Many Salvadorans and human rights advocates were aghast at the sight of soldiers trying to pressure the lawmakers. It evoked Latin America’s bleak history of dictatorial rule. At the time, the U.S. Embassy denied any role.

“Neither Ambassador Johnson nor any Embassy official had prior knowledge of what was to happen,” the embassy said in a statement to El Faro after the incident.

During his Senate hearing this year, though, Johnson admitted that he had talked with Bukele just before he sent in the troops. Johnson testified that he privately urged the president to refrain from the military show of force.

“Something that few people know is that I was in contact with him moments before he made the decision, and I was telling him not to go. ‘Do not do this,’” he told lawmakers. He also testified that he had criticized Bukele in public.

For human rights advocates, Johnson’s reluctance to forcefully criticize Bukele at the time was a sign of his undue deference to the Salvadoran leader.

“Johnson was an ally of the president and not civil society, not the democratic forces in the country,” said Noah Bullock, the executive director of Cristosal, a leading human rights organization. “There was no distance between him and Bukele.”

Johnson’s term ended after only 17 months, when President Joe Biden took office in January 2021. Before Johnson left, Bukele created El Salvador’s highest honor and made the ambassador the first recipient of the Grand Order of Francisco Morazán.

“A great friend is leaving,” Bukele declared at the ambassador’s farewell ceremony.

Johnson receives the Grand Order of Francisco Morazán from Bukele before departing El Salvador in 2021. (Gobierno de El Salvador via YouTube) Manes Returns

A little more than three months after Johnson’s departure, Bukele unleashed an assault on the judiciary. The Salvadoran legislature, dominated by the president’s ruling coalition, removed five Supreme Court justices and the attorney general. At least eight Salvadoran officials who had been investigating MS-13 and corruption, including some who had worked with Vulcan agents, fled the country after threats, harassment, and searches of their homes and offices.

Critics in El Salvador declared that the president had engineered a “self-coup.” Bukele began calling himself the “world’s coolest dictator.”

Newly installed Biden administration officials watched the crisis with alarm. Concerned that Bukele was turning El Salvador into an autocracy, they broke with Trump’s policy.

Soon after the purge of the judiciary, State Department officials announced they were sending Manes back to El Salvador as the interim chargé d’affaires, the term for a temporary ambassador. They directed her to stand up to Bukele, according to the inspector general’s report and interviews. Her superiors saw her as a natural choice because of her constructive relationship with Bukele during her term as ambassador.

“She was brought back as a message that we won’t have business as had been conducted,” said a former high-ranking State Department official.

Jean Manes, the U.S. ambassador to El Salvador, in her office in San Salvador on April 23, 2019. (Daniele Volpe/The New York Times)

A top State Department official asked her to conduct an “assessment” of the embassy, including the contractor’s dismissal, according to the inspector general report and interviews. The official told her he had concerns “about the dynamics” at the embassy, the report said. Gonzalez, the former National Security Council official, said senior policymakers thought that embassy staff were showing favoritism to Bukele, sending reports that minimized the growing crisis of democracy in El Salvador.

Upon arriving at the embassy, Manes ran up against a group of senior staff, mostly law enforcement and intelligence officials who were not members of the Vulcan task force. She accused them of undercutting her leadership because of their loyalty to Johnson and rapport with Bukele, according to the report and interviews.

Manes laid out her findings about Johnson “loyalists” in a memo and other written communications, former officials said. To regain control, she issued a drastic order: Embassy personnel “were not to have communications with Bukele government officials,” the inspector general report said. In practice, that meant the staff stopped meeting with senior Salvadoran officials and had to get approval from Manes and her top deputies to engage with others, according to former senior embassy officials.

A former senior embassy official criticized Manes’ handling of the feud. “It got pretty ugly,” the official said in an interview. “She wanted to micromanage everything.”

One opponent was especially nettlesome: the CIA station chief. Early in his tenure as ambassador, Johnson had helped secure his appointment to head the CIA station, former officials said. Like Johnson, he had served as a military adviser in El Salvador years earlier. Also, like Johnson, the station chief had an unusually friendly relationship with Bukele. Manes learned that he was meeting with Bukele on a regular basis, often having breakfast with him. Bukele would also visit the station chief’s home, according to a former U.S. official.

“Former Ambassador Johnson and the section chief were close friends and were close to Bukele and members of Bukele’s government,” an embassy employee later told an investigator, according to the inspector general report.

Rather than support the new mission to confront Bukele over backsliding on human rights and democracy, the CIA officer defended the president, former U.S. officials said.

“He tried very hard to undermine the notion that Bukele was consolidating and centralizing power or acting to dismantle Salvadoran institutions,” said the former State Department official familiar with the embassy.

The interlocking friendships among Johnson, the station chief and Bukele led Biden administration officials to believe the former ambassador was influencing opposition to the new U.S. policy — though they did not have concrete proof, former officials said.

“We knew that Johnson and Bukele continued to talk,” Gonzalez said. “The suspicion was that Johnson played a role in the dissidence at the embassy opposing Manes and favoring Bukele.”

After he stepped down as ambassador to El Salvador, Johnson made numerous posts praising Bukele, including this one from August 2024. (Ronald Johnson on Linkedin)

Manes decided to demand that the CIA remove the station chief — an unusual move, but it was within her power to withdraw approval for anyone assigned to the embassy. A senior CIA official questioned the decision, but Manes’ superiors held firm. The station chief was transferred to another country and has since retired, former officials said.

The station chief filed a complaint with the State Department’s Office of the Inspector General, charging that Manes had unfairly dismissed him, among other allegations.

The resulting report cleared Manes of wrongdoing. The former station chief did not respond to a list of questions sent by ProPublica.

As the fight escalated within the embassy, Manes engaged in an increasingly open clash with Bukele. She criticized the replacement of the Supreme Court justices and the attorney general. She warned that the government was weakening democracy and human rights. And she called for the extraditions of Melgar and other MS-13 senior leaders indicted by the Vulcan task force.

“Extradition is something very important for the United States,” she told the press.

As ProPublica has previously reported, the Bukele administration systematically interfered with extradition efforts and has not sent to the U.S. any of the 27 MS-13 gang chiefs charged by Vulcan prosecutors in indictments in 2021 and 2023.

Top State Department officials traveled to El Salvador to urge Bukele to reverse course. USAID cut funding. Luna, Marroquin and other high-level Salvadoran officials were hit with State Department sanctions that blocked their travel to the U.S.

Bukele did not budge. On X, he blasted Manes for interfering with his country’s internal politics. He published a string of personal WhatsApp messages between them, accusing Manes of asking him to free a politician jailed on corruption charges.

In November 2021, Manes declared a “pause” in Washington’s relations with the Bukele administration and announced that she was leaving her post.

El Salvador and the U.S. had reached a diplomatic nadir. More than a year would pass before a new ambassador was named.

“It’s impossible to think that someone has an interest in our relationship when they’re using their paid media machine to attack the United States every day,” Manes told the press.

The Rehabilitation

A week after Manes’ departure, Johnson posted the image of himself posing with Bukele and their families in front of a Christmas tree.

“It was great to spend some time in our Miami home with El Salvadoran President Bukele,” Johnson wrote on a photo he posted to his LinkedIn account.

On Christmas Eve, Johnson posted holiday wishes to Bukele and his family. The Salvadoran president responded with a jab at Manes and the Biden administration: “Those were the times when ambassadors were sent to strengthen relations between nations.”

The exchange was an early salvo in a campaign not just to rehabilitate Bukele’s reputation in the United States but to make him a MAGA icon. Johnson helped lead this effort, which involved legislators and lobbyists working in Washington, Florida and El Salvador.

It occurred as the Biden administration stepped up its confrontation with the Salvadoran president. In December 2021, the Treasury Department issued more sanctions against Luna and Marroquin, alleging that the Bukele aides negotiated the secret agreement with the MS-13 gang. They also accused Luna and the president’s chief of staff of corruption. Neither responded to requests for comment.

In a criminal indictment, Vulcan prosecutors detailed alleged wrongdoing by senior Bukele officials and the gang’s promise to turn out support for the president’s party in exchange for financial benefits and protection.

In March 2022, for reasons that still remain unclear, the truce between the Salvadoran government and MS-13 fell apart. During a three-day rampage of gang violence, some 80 people died — the deadliest days in El Salvador since its civil war. Bukele struck back with a policy of mano dura — an iron fist. He suspended constitutional protections and rounded up accused gang members without due process. The security forces arrested 70,000 people over the next several years, locking up many of them in CECOT, the maximum-security prison.

The crackdown made Bukele enormously popular in El Salvador. But senior Biden administration officials saw it as a further step toward the dismantling of the nation’s constitutional democracy. Even some in the GOP had misgivings. Then-Sen. Marco Rubio, the Florida Republican who was influential on Latin American issues, expressed ambivalence about Bukele’s actions.

“I’m not a big fan of everything that’s been done out there,” he said during a Senate hearing in 2022. “I’m hoping that we can still have a relationship in El Salvador that’s pragmatic. We don't have to clap or celebrate all the stuff people do that we don’t necessarily think is good. But I also think we have a national interest concern there that needs to be balanced.”

By then, Johnson and others were already deeply engaged in promoting Bukele. Johnson praised the president’s campaign advising Salvadorans on how to stay healthy during COVID-19. At Trump’s Mar-a-Lago, he met with El Salvador’s ambassador to the U.S., former beauty queen Milena Mayorga. He continued posting about his visits with Bukele and his family.

Damian Merlo, a lobbyist for Bukele, posted this photo of himself and Johnson at Mar-a-Lago in November 2024. (Damian Merlo on X)

Bukele enlisted Damian Merlo, a well-known lobbyist for Latin American countries and leaders, eventually paying his firm more than $2 million, according to lobbying records. Merlo set up meetings with Republicans and Democrats on Capitol Hill, contacted State Department officials, and spoke to reporters at The New York Times, Fox News and other outlets, lobbying records show. Bukele appeared on “Tucker Carlson Today.” Time magazine featured him on its cover, calling him “the world’s most popular authoritarian.” He spoke at the Conservative Political Action Conference, the annual gathering of the country’s most influential conservative politicians. Johnson attended, posting afterwards that Bukele had delivered “an incredible speech.”

“Johnson’s credibility and Merlo’s instincts helped Bukele connect with MAGA world,” said Shannon, the former diplomat and lobbyist. Merlo did not respond to a detailed set of questions from ProPublica.

First image: Johnson at the Conservative Political Action Conference in February 2024 with his wife and Bukele. Second image: Johnson posted that it was a “wonderful surprise to spend some time with President Nayib Bukele and the 1st family of El Salvador,” in August 2024. (Ronald Johnson on LinkedIn)

A turning point came in March 2023, when Rubio paid an official visit to El Salvador. Whatever uncertainty he may have had about the Salvadoran leader vanished after his return. Rubio lauded Bukele and mocked the Biden administration’s attempts to pressure him.

“All of a sudden, the crime rate has plummeted. All of sudden, the murder rate has plummeted. All of a sudden, for the first time in decades, people can go out at night,” Rubio said in a video posted online. “So how has the Biden administration reacted to this? By badmouthing the guy, by sanctioning people in the government, by going after them because they’re being too tough and too harsh.”

Johnson hailed Rubio’s newfound admiration.

“I want to thank my friend, Senator Marco Rubio, for going there to visit and for recognizing the progress made by Salvadoran President Nayib Bukele,” he wrote on LinkedIn.

In September 2022, Bukele announced his candidacy for reelection. The Salvadoran constitution had limited presidents to a single five-year term, but the Supreme Court, packed with Bukele allies, had allowed him to run again. The decision set off a new round of protests.

Johnson defended the reelection bid during a fireside chat at a conference at Florida International University, where he applauded El Salvador’s progress on security.

“In some recent discussions that I had with people in Washington, D.C., we talked about a second term for President Bukele,” Johnson said. “I said, ‘I think we’re focused on the wrong things. If he runs for a second term in a free and fair election and the people of El Salvador select him for a second term, then isn’t that we do here?’”

Bukele won with 85% of the vote.

The guest list for Bukele’s inauguration on June 1, 2024, illustrated his growing popularity with Republicans. Conservative luminaries including Donald Trump Jr., Rep. Matt Gaetz of Florida, Sen. Mike Lee of Utah and Carlson showed up. So did Democratic Reps. Vicente Gonzalez of Texas and Lou Correa of California. Also in attendance were Johnson and the former CIA station chief.

Johnson posted these photos of him with Tucker Carlson, Donald Trump Jr. and Kimberly Guilfoyle at events related to Bukele’s second inauguration in June 2024. (Ronald Johnson on LinkedIn)

Afterward, Johnson and Merlo helped arrange a private meeting with Bukele for Sara A. Carter, a former Fox news contributor whom Trump has since nominated to serve as director of the Office of National Drug Control Policy. In a video podcast, Carter recounted a late-night meal of sushi with the Salvadoran president.

“We had the opportunity to meet with Bukele privately, our group, and I want to thank Ambassador Ron Johnson for that and Damian Merlo for that, for making that happen,” she said.

Epilogue

This April, Trump and Bukele met to celebrate a partnership.

“It’s an honor to be here in the Oval Office with the president and leader of the free world,” the Salvadoran president said as they shook hands. “We know that you have a crime problem, a terrorism problem that you need help with, and we’re a small country, but if we can help, we will do it.”

Bukele meets with Trump, Vice President JD Vance, Secretary of State Marco Rubio and other U.S. officials at the White House in April. (American Photo Archive/Alamy)

Rubio, now secretary of state, and Bukele had reached an agreement in which the Trump administration would send more than 250 Venezuelan and Salvadoran immigrants to be detained in CECOT. (The Venezuelans were returned to their country in July.)

Bukele’s administration asked for the return to El Salvador of some of the MS-13 gang leaders who had been arrested in Mexico and imprisoned in the United States. The federal prosecutors who had worked to bring the bosses to justice asked a judge to release two of them. Former Vulcan investigators said they believe both have information tying Bukele aides to the gang pact.

A few days before Bukele’s Oval Office meeting with Trump, the Senate approved Johnson on a party-line 49-46 vote as the ambassador to Mexico. He stepped into the job at a time when the Trump administration’s hardline policies — notably the prospect of unleashing U.S. military might against drug cartels — have strained the always complex relationship with Mexico.

“I’m eager to meet Mexican President Claudia Sheinbaum and ready to work with her administration on issues that are mutually beneficial to both our nations,” Johnson wrote on social media.

Manes’ career has not fared as well. In 2023, the Biden administration nominated her as ambassador to Colombia, one of the top diplomatic posts in Latin America. She seemed a strong candidate until Rubio and other Republicans on the Senate Foreign Relations Committee announced their opposition. Sen. James E. Risch of Idaho cited the inspector general investigation of Manes’ conflict with the station chief as a reason.

“Staff on our side has received complaints about Ms. Manes’ leadership ability, interagency management style and judgment while serving as ambassador in charge in El Salvador,” Risch said at a hearing.

Manes’ defenders pointed out she had been cleared by the internal inquiry and was implementing a policy dictated from Washington.

“She was following a policy that was clearly the guidance of the administration,” a former senior State Department official said in an interview. “It has become very difficult for career officers when their loyal service is seen in the political arena as unacceptable. It’s ironic, given her political views.”

Instead, Manes was named the U.S. representative to UNESCO, the United Nations’ cultural organization in Paris that promotes science and the arts.

This July, Trump announced the U.S. would withdraw its participation in the organization.

Mica Rosenberg contributed reporting, and Doris Burke contributed research.

by T. Christian Miller, Sebastian Rotella, Kirsten Berg and Brett Murphy

Millions Could Lose Housing Aid Under Trump Plan

3 days 11 hours ago

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Some 4 million people could lose federal housing assistance under new plans from the Trump administration, according to experts who reviewed drafts of two unpublished rules obtained by ProPublica. The rules would pave the way for a host of restrictions long sought by conservatives, including time limits on living in public housing, work requirements for many people receiving federal housing assistance and the stripping of aid from entire families if one member of the household is in the country illegally.

The first Trump administration tried and failed to implement similar policies, and renewed efforts have been in the works since early in the president’s second term. Now, the documents obtained by ProPublica lay out how the administration intends to overhaul major housing programs that serve some of the nation’s poorest residents, with sweeping reforms that experts and advocates warn will weaken the social safety net amid historically high rents, home prices and homelessness.

“These are rules that are going to cause an enormous amount of hardship for millions of people in communities across the country,” said Will Fischer, director of housing policy at the Center on Budget and Policy Priorities, a nonpartisan think tank. “It’s going to cause people to become homeless, kids to be pulled out of their schools, people to lose their jobs.”

A spokesperson for the Department of Housing and Urban Development, which drafted the rules, declined to comment.

The two rules obtained by ProPublica are labeled as drafts and could change before they are officially proposed. At a meeting at HUD headquarters this month, Ben Hobbs, who heads the agency’s public housing office, said the rules were under review at the Office of Management and Budget, according to a HUD official in attendance. (OMB typically reviews proposed rules for compliance with federal standards and consistency with the president’s policies.)

The push to adopt the rules is part of a broad effort to roll back federal housing programs under the current administration. Trump’s budget proposal called for cutting funding for public housing, housing vouchers and other rental assistance by 43%. In March, HUD and the Department of Homeland Security announced a data-sharing agreement targeting so-called mixed-status families, in which some family members are eligible for housing assistance and others are not because they are in the country illegally or have another immigration status that makes them ineligible. More recently, HUD reportedly planned to require all local public housing authorities to identify such families to the federal agency.

Work requirements impart a “renewed sense of purpose for millions of Americans,” in the view of HUD Secretary Scott Turner. Calling welfare a “lifelong trap of dependency” for many, Turner and other senior Trump officials wrote in a joint op-ed, “for able-bodied adults, welfare should be a short-term hand-up, not a lifetime handout.”

Federal housing assistance programs support more than 8 million people by providing units in public housing or subsidies that help cover the cost of rentals on the private market. Under these programs, participants pay a percentage of the rent — generally 30% of their adjusted income — and the government covers the rest. Most of those assisted are elderly, disabled or children. The average family that lives in public housing or receives housing vouchers makes less than $20,000 annually and receives benefits for 10 to 12 years, although non-elderly, non-disabled families typically stay far shorter, according to HUD data.

The first rule would not mandate work requirements and time limits; instead, it permits local housing authorities and landlords to implement them. Hobbs originally wanted the rule to require those policies, but career staffers at HUD persuaded him to make them voluntary, according to a HUD official familiar with the matter. The rule would allow local housing authorities and private landlords to impose work requirements and time limits in four major federal housing programs: public housing, Housing Choice Vouchers, Project-Based Vouchers and Project-Based Rental Assistance (the latter three are part of what is commonly called Section 8). Residents, including both parents in two-parent households, could be required to work up to 40 hours a week. The time limits could be as short as two years, after which residents would lose assistance.

The time limits would apply to any family in which the household heads are not elderly or disabled, with few exceptions. Similarly, the work requirements would apply to residents ages 18 to 61 who are not disabled, pregnant, primary caretakers of young children, college students or in other exempted categories. Housing providers may allow them to perform job training or community service instead of traditional work. Housing providers implementing work requirements would have to offer support services to residents, but what those services are would be up to the providers. HUD expects 750 public housing authorities and 3,500 landlords to implement work requirements or term limits in response to the new rule. Such provisions will likely be adopted first in more conservative parts of the country, Fischer said.

The new regulation asserts that it will promote economic self-sufficiency and free up subsidized housing for millions of people who qualify for assistance but cannot receive it because of the limited amount of housing aid that the government provides.

Housing advocates and researchers expressed a different view. “It’s disguised as work requirements and term limits, but in reality it’s a way to strip families of their benefits,” said Deborah Thrope, deputy director of the National Housing Law Project, an advocacy group. “This is a huge departure from how the HUD programs have been run since their inception.”

Some 4 million people could lose housing assistance, estimated Fischer, Thrope and Katherine O’Regan, a former HUD official and now a professor at New York University. Many of those people could become homeless as a result.

Fischer noted that most non-elderly, non-disabled households receiving assistance already include one or more people who work. But their jobs often come with limited hours and pay, so even working families could lose their assistance as a result of the rule.

There is little evidence that work requirements increase economic self-sufficiency among recipients of housing assistance, according to researchers at NYU. Studies of other welfare policies such as the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program have largely found that work requirements do not notably increase employment but do cause people to lose assistance.

The second proposed rule targets mixed-status households. Under long-standing HUD regulations, such families are permitted to live in public housing or receive vouchers, but their benefits are prorated so that the ineligible members receive no assistance and the family pays a greater share of the rent. The proposed rule would change that by making mixed-status families ineligible for assistance, with few exceptions. It would also require U.S. citizens applying for or currently receiving housing assistance to provide documents proving their citizenship, such as birth or naturalization certificates. The authors of the rule argue that it would bring HUD regulations into “greater alignment” with federal law.

The rule could affect 20,000 mixed-status families that receive housing assistance, according to a HUD analysis of the rule obtained by ProPublica; 16,000 of those families include children. They live mainly in California, Texas and New York; the average income of a mixed family of four is below the federal poverty line of $32,000.

The rule would allow the families to keep their assistance if the ineligible member moves out. But, as most of them are families with children, HUD expects virtually all of them to give up assistance out of “fear of the family being separated,” the analysis reads.

HUD’s analysis anticipates that public housing units may initially be left vacant as a result of the proposed rule. Because the regulations would kick out households receiving prorated assistance and replace them with fully eligible households, it will increase the government’s rental assistance costs by up to $370 million each year, according to the analysis. But HUD will not initially increase funding to the local public housing authorities that distribute assistance, so those authorities may have to offer fewer vouchers or leave units unoccupied, HUD expects.

The requirement that residents and applicants prove their citizenship — and that housing providers verify it — could create $100 million in new costs, HUD expects. This new obligation will be especially difficult for homeless and low-income people to fulfill even if they are eligible for assistance, said Sonya Acosta, a senior policy analyst at the Center on Budget and Policy Priorities. “It is very likely that people who need assistance the most are not going to be able to receive it because of these additional documentation barriers,” she said.

The first Trump administration proposed a similar rule in 2019 but then received more than 30,000 comments in response, the vast majority in opposition. HUD ultimately did not complete the adoption process before Trump left office. The administration of President Joe Biden withdrew that rule proposal in 2021.

When, or if, HUD publishes the proposed rules, they would then be subject to public comments, which the agency must consider before adopting them — a process that can take months or years. The HUD spokesperson did not respond to questions about when the agency expects to publish and adopt the rules.

by Jesse Coburn

Arduous and Unequal: The Fight to Get FEMA Housing Assistance After Helene

5 days 11 hours ago

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Slogging through a thick slop of mud and rock, Brian Hill passed the roof that Hurricane Helene’s floodwaters had just ripped off someone’s barn and dumped into his yard. Then he peered into the unrecognizable chaos inside what had been his family’s dream home.

The century-old white farmhouse, surrounded by the rugged peaks of western North Carolina, sat less than 15 yards from the normally tranquil Cattail Creek. As Helene’s rainfall barrelled down the Black Mountains last September, the creek swelled into a raging river that encircled the house. Its waves pounded the walls, tore off doors, smashed windows and devoured the front and back porches.

Brian and his wife, Susie, had just bought the house a year earlier. They had a 30-year mortgage — and, now, no house to live in. Because their home didn’t sit in the 100-year floodplain, they had not purchased flood insurance.

Across Helene’s devastating path through the Southeast, people like the Hills turned to the Federal Emergency Management Agency. FEMA doles out financial help after a major disaster for everything from home repairs to rental assistance. Once she could get a cell signal, Susie applied.

It took months of persistence, but eventually the Hills were among the lucky ones. They received close to $40,000, just shy of the maximum amount FEMA provides for rebuilding and repairs.

But farther up Cattail Creek, a man whose wife was killed in floodwaters said he checked his FEMA application one day and noticed it was marked “withdrawn,” a surprise since he’d received no explanation. Elsewhere in Yancey, another man said he realized FEMA had denied him aid because his birthdate was a year off on his application. A third man said his application — which he filled out just days after hiking down a mountain severely injured — seemingly vanished from the system.

FEMA’s application process can be onerous, particularly for people who’ve lost their homes. And it can be especially daunting for those with lower incomes who may have fewer resources.

An analysis by ProPublica and The Assembly found that among the more rural counties hardest hit by Helene, the households that got the most housing assistance tended to have the highest incomes. The income disparity is especially stark in Yancey County, where the Hills live.

In North Carolina’s Hardest-Hit Rural Counties, the Highest-Income Homeowners Typically Received the Most FEMA Housing Assistance Notes: Applicant income is self-reported to FEMA. Charts depict the median amount of assistance. The hardest-hit counties are the 10 counties with the highest per-capita rates of homeowners receiving housing assistance. The more rural counties are Ashe, Avery, Haywood, Henderson, McDowell, Mitchell, Polk, Watauga and Yancey. The chart does not include Buncombe County, which is classified as urban, is the area’s most densely populated county, and is home to many regional and local nonprofits that assisted with FEMA applications and appeals. (Chart: Ren Larson, The Assembly. Sources: Federal Emergency Management Agency Individuals and Households Program, U.S. Census Bureau American Community Survey, U.S. Department of Agriculture Rural Classifications.)

A ProPublica investigation earlier this year found that despite dire warnings from the National Weather Service, many people in Yancey were unaware of the enormity of danger Helene posed. The storm killed 11 people there, the highest per-capita loss of life for any county in North Carolina.

The Hills, who are both public school teachers, do not fall in the highest-income brackets FEMA identified. Households in the middle range tended to get about as much FEMA housing assistance money as the lower-income ones, or even a little less. But experts say the Hills did have something in common with the highest-income households: They had the luxury of time to pursue every dollar of federal aid that they were qualified to receive. That’s because they received full pay for seven weeks while schools were closed. That allowed them to navigate FEMA’s bureaucracy during a crucial time when, for many others, pursuing the aid felt insurmountable.

Our analysis looked at counties with the highest per-capita rate of households receiving FEMA aid for housing assistance, an indicator of where Helene hit people the hardest. Housing assistance includes separate buckets of money that cover both rental assistance and home repairs and rebuilding. Apart from Buncombe County — home to Asheville and by far the most urban county in the region — lower- and middle-income households overall got lower amounts of this aid compared to the highest-income earners.

In some counties, the highest-income homeowners received two to three times as much housing assistance as those with lower incomes.

Yet income isn’t supposed to play a role. FEMA aid for home repairs and rebuilding is intended to help begin replacing a primary home or make it safe and habitable again, not restore one to its prior state. In theory, a couple living in a million-dollar home and another in a starter house should be eligible for the same level of assistance. For instance, couples who live alone generally would qualify for aid to cover one bedroom, one bathroom and one refrigerator, even if they had three of each.

FEMA did not respond to ProPublica and The Assembly’s requests for comment. The agency previously told the Government Accountability Office, according to a 2020 report, that it encourages all survivors with property damage to apply, and those with minimal damage are “driving down the average award amount.”

Disparities in who receives FEMA aid have long been known to researchers, including Sarah Labowitz, a senior fellow at the Carnegie Endowment for International Peace who studies and writes about disasters and publishes the Disaster Dollar Database.

“Disasters pull back the curtain on inequity,” Labowitz said. “It’s a vicious combination of things that make it so much harder for people without a lot of money to get what they need from FEMA.” She pointed to FEMA inspectors who undervalue damage to more modest homes, FEMA’s onerous documentation requirements and a “brutal and discouraging” appeals process.

The agency itself has also known about the problems. Several years ago, NPR obtained an internal FEMA analysis showing that the poorest homeowners received about half as much to rebuild their homes compared with higher-income homeowners. The 2020 GAO report noted that homeowners in communities with the most socioeconomic vulnerabilities, like being below the poverty line and not having a high school diploma, received significantly less assistance than those in less vulnerable communities.

The Hills’ home was destroyed outside, first image, and inside, second image. (Courtesy of the Hills)

The disparity we found in Yancey was equally striking in Haywood County, where water flows down 13 peaks towering above 6,000 feet. Households there making more than $175,000 typically received $11,000 in housing assistance; households below that threshold received about $5,000.

Michelle and Jeff Parker, who live about 70 miles southwest of the Hills, in Haywood, had evacuated during the storm. Like the Hills, they returned to find their house had been filled with water. They too had lost virtually everything, down to their wedding photographs.

Michelle Parker has struggled to get FEMA to cover her rent after her home was flooded by Helene. (Jesse Barber for ProPublica)

But the Parkers had been here before. In 2023, they finished repairing their 936-square-foot home after Tropical Storm Fred’s floodwaters filled it with 4 feet of water in 2021. That time, their house had been rebuilt by a state-run program. They received $50,000 from their flood insurance and just $1,644 from FEMA for rental assistance.

When Helene hit just a year after they got back into their home, they decided the risk of rebuilding was too great. Jeff, a former wastewater treatment plant operator, was on disability. Michelle was working as a medical assistant and could take only a couple of weeks off after Helene. They applied for a hazard mitigation buyout, another program offered through FEMA, instead. It would pay them the property’s appraised value before the storm and turn it into green space.

But that process could take years, and their home was unlivable. They figured they would at least get rental assistance from FEMA in the meantime.

The couples’ situations diverged in important ways, and they applied for different pots of FEMA housing assistance. But their journeys underscore how disaster survivors with varying resources are able to navigate FEMA’s application process.

Susie and Michelle spent hours plodding through FEMA’s online system, uploading documents, deciphering bureaucratic letters and making myriad phone calls to the agency.

After weeks of pestering FEMA, the Hills received just under the maximum $42,500 for home repair and rebuild assistance for damage to things like the home’s walls, windows and doors, plus about $9,000 from other FEMA aid programs. The money played a critical role in helping them start rebuilding.

The Parkers received $2,210 for the first two months of rental assistance to help pay for temporary housing. Michelle continued to nag FEMA for months seeking longer-term help; the agency will pay rental assistance for up to 18 months, which could translate to an additional $7,500.

Then Jeff died from cardiac arrest in June at age 56. Michelle felt like she was operating in a fog. She couldn’t handle another stressor.

So when FEMA’s call wait times soared to two to three hours after the deadly Texas floods on July 4, she gave up on pursuing additional rental assistance from FEMA.

“I got tired of calling,” she said.

First image: Michelle’s husband, Jeff, with their Chihuahuas, Cloey and Sweet Pea. Second image: Inside Michelle’s camper. (First image: Courtesy of Michelle Parker. Second image: Jesse Barber for ProPublica.) Michelle’s memorial to her husband and their Chihuahua, Sweet Pea, includes a stuffed animal that plays a recording of Jeff’s voice, a box with the Corvette emblem containing Jeff’s ashes and a box with Sweet Pea’s ashes. (Jesse Barber for ProPublica) The Daunting Process

After disasters strike, households with lower incomes can face major challenges, beginning with the early steps of the rebuilding process, which include finding temporary housing and transportation. Some residents lack reliable internet access or cell service. They have less money to pay professionals for estimates or attorneys for advice. Throw in the added hurdles of rugged topography, and western North Carolina posed particular challenges to those faced with rebuilding after Helene.

Alicia Edwards, who directs the Disaster Relief Project for Legal Aid of North Carolina, said she wasn’t surprised by our analysis, which found that in six of the 10 counties most impacted by Helene, the lowest-income households got less in FEMA’s housing assistance than those at the highest income level.

“People with lower incomes are at a huge disadvantage,” Edwards said.

The application process can be onerous and overwhelming, particularly for people who just survived raging floodwaters and the destruction of their homes and communities. And it can feel downright impossible to navigate for those with less money or other resources.

In Buncombe County, our analysis found the opposite trend. The lowest-income families there typically received more housing assistance than those with higher incomes. It’s also where residents tend to have better access to resources, as many regional nonprofits are based there. Pisgah Legal Services has had an office in Asheville for decades.

Several of the counties with pronounced income disparities are among the most rural counties heavily impacted by Helene. Yancey, Mitchell and Polk all have populations under 21,000.

The region also is home to both higher-income retirees, who can have more free time and more experience navigating complicated finances, and lower-income multigenerational families. In more rural areas, many of the latter tend to distrust the federal government and are reluctant to pursue assistance, said Morgan Monshaugen, disaster recovery program director with the Housing Assistance Corp., a nonprofit that serves Henderson, Polk and Transylvania counties.

A vacant apartment complex, first image, and a mobile home park, second image, in Haywood County, North Carolina, that were damaged by Helene. (Jesse Barber for ProPublica)

The month before Helene struck, Tulane University researchers released a literature review of 25 years of research on barriers to equitable disaster recovery. They noted common themes, including the confusing aid process and challenges navigating bureaucracies. They also pointed to research that shows inspectors’ biases and time pressures can play a role.

Before 2020, inspectors would go through a long checklist of items that could qualify for repair or replacement money. Someone with more things could therefore get more aid.

After FEMA changed that system, inspectors now record notes about standardized factors such as roof damage and the height of flood marks inside. The amount of damage puts a household into one of several levels, each of which determines how much and what type of repair and rebuild assistance it can get. Some households get additional money for things like heating, venting and air conditioning or septic systems.

“It shouldn’t have to do with anything other than what was damaged and what was repaired,” Edwards said. But she worries biases can still creep in. “If they feel you are a credible person, they could give you a little more assistance, even subconsciously,” she said.

The agency’s decisions come in the form of mailed letters, each regarding a different pot of money. Some letters might have a dollar amount granted. Others might announce denials. It isn’t always obvious that survivors can appeal — an even more arduous process for many.

“It makes it impossibly hard for people to navigate,” Edwards said.

Four months after Helene hit western North Carolina, debris still remained in Yancey County. (Juan Diego Reyes for ProPublica) Hills of Challenge

Susie Hill knew her family would need every dollar they could get to rebuild. So she filled out a FEMA application online and talked to someone at the agency by phone.

Slowly, aid from FEMA started arriving in their bank account — $3,514 first, a set amount for people displaced, then an initial $13,687 for home repair. In October, it reached about $22,000, roughly half of the $42,500 maximum in 2024 for home repair and replacement.

Then the money stopped.

As hope for more aid began to fizzle, Susie pestered FEMA. “I was anxious about getting lost in the mix of so many people across the region in need,” she said. The Hills’ application was one of nearly 1.5 million that FEMA received across the six-state region devastated by Helene.

The Hills got more estimates, uploaded more documents. They set up a GoFundMe campaign that raised more than $53,000. And finally, in late November, they came close to reaching the maximum $42,500 payout from FEMA for home repairs, along with smaller amounts from the agency’s other aid buckets.

“Unfortunately,” Susie said, “I think it is a bit of a socioeconomic situation where we have jobs, where we know people that know people, that maybe have money or that are able to help us, or that have the skills to help us, where other people are just trying to make it day to day.”

Susie Hill (Juan Diego Reyes for ProPublica)

Yancey is home to the most families per capita — about 175, or roughly 1 in 36 homeowners — who got the top amount of FEMA home rebuild and repair assistance. Our analysis of more than 75,000 North Carolina homeowners who applied for the assistance in the counties hardest hit by Helene found roughly 1,300 homeowners, or just 1.7%, received the maximum payout.

The Hills had decided to relocate their historic house to a spot on their property farther back from the creek. The FEMA money would cover most of that cost, a critical first step toward gutting it and rebuilding.

On an icy cold day in mid-January, house movers put I-beams underneath the water-damaged structure and used hydraulic lifts to raise it. Then, they hauled it to safer ground.

A family in Tennessee donated a camper for the Hills to live in. After three months of bouncing around, they parked it near the shell of their house. Standing at the front door, to the right, they could see the vast destruction along Cattail Creek. To the left, they could watch their home slowly come back to life.

Susie had to wash their clothes at the elementary school where she works. For other things, they used water carried from a neighbor’s well. Brian had to haul the contents of the toilet to the septic tank. But it was a home.

Cattail Creek, now calm, flooded during Helene and destroyed the Hills’ home. (Juan Diego Reyes for ProPublica)

An hour’s drive away, the Parkers had sought refuge during the storm at Michelle’s mother’s house. Jeff had fractured his ankle two months before the storm and used a wheelchair. They weren’t taking chances after fleeing their home under darkness — Michelle carrying their two Chihuahuas, one under each arm — when Tropical Storm Fred hit three years earlier.

When they returned home after Helene, their shed was gone. Instead, other people’s structures lay in their yard. Inside, the contents looked like everything had been spun around. Their refrigerator lay on its side. The washing machine sat wedged on top of the dryer.

“It ruined everything — everything,” Michelle said. “I was ready to just die right there. I was like, I can’t go through this again.”

First and second images: Michelle’s home shows signs of destruction from Helene almost a year later. Third image: A vacant house near Michelle’s home. (Jesse Barber for ProPublica)

A friend set up a GoFundMe, which raised $1,875. The Parkers’ flood insurance paid out $80,000, far below the $209,000 the home had been appraised for a year before. Michelle remembers FEMA offering a free hotel, more than 60 miles away in Tennessee, a distance made farther as Helene’s waters took out parts of Interstate 40. Michelle and Jeff were grateful to receive a donated camper to live in. But their property still had no water or electricity, and they had to rent a place to park it.

The rent for that gravel parking space is $900 a month. Donors paid half, but Michelle has to come up with the rest.

Michelle turned to FEMA. She requested more rental assistance and uploaded an employer letter, a rental agreement, utility bills and a rent receipt. She called FEMA repeatedly.

Michelle and her friend Krista Shalda outside Michelle’s camper. Michelle has struggled to pay the rent for the lot where the camper is parked. (Jesse Barber for ProPublica) “They Are All Gone”

FEMA has faced years of criticism from people applying for assistance. Chief among their complaints: inconsistent payouts, the onerous application process, incomprehensible communication and confusing rules.

Jeremiah Isom lost his home and work tools in the Yancey County floodwaters and has since been living here and there. He’s struggled to find a job and has grappled with a FEMA application, complicated by deaths in his family and property ownership issues. It doesn’t help that he’s reluctant to ask for help, much less aggressively seek it from the federal government. Just plowing through each day is hard enough.

“Everyone is so eaten up with PTSD,” Isom said. “It’s got your head so scrambled.”

FEMA has been working on improving its application process. From 2021 to 2024, it announced changes aimed at improving access and equity, including making home repair money available to underinsured households. Another change cut an onerous rule requiring applicants to first apply for a U.S. Small Business Administration loan, which approved less than 4% of all applicants from 2016 to 2018.

Before President Donald Trump took office in January, FEMA also had spent more than a year hiring a team of engineers, designers and product managers to help modernize the online application process. They faced a key challenge: The back-end system that runs much of the process at disasterassistance.gov is 27 years old.

A key problem is that when survivors check their application status, they often see simply that it’s pending. They get no indication of where the application is in the process or why. The FEMA team was working to change that.

Michael Coen, the agency’s chief of staff when the team was formed, noted that people are used to going on Amazon and getting updates about when their order is out for delivery and when it’s about to arrive. Coen said survivors wonder, “Why can’t FEMA do that?”

Volunteers cut firewood in Swannanoa, North Carolina, four months after Helene hit the region. (Juan Diego Reyes for ProPublica)

Yet since the Trump administration began slashing the agency’s workforce, the team focusing on improvements to the online application process has disintegrated. In January, the team had at least 10 people. Now, it’s down to two. The rest took the deferred resignation offer or were pushed from their posts, current and former FEMA employees told ProPublica and The Assembly.

“They all are gone,” said Alexandra Ferčak, who until May was chief of service delivery enhancement, part of a relatively new office at FEMA. Her team worked closely with the digital team. “We had so much knowledge and expertise, it was unprecedented,” she said.

Without that in-house expertise, major changes are “not going to be effective,” said a FEMA employee who worked with the team but asked not to be named out of fear of retribution.

FEMA did not respond to questions about the team. But in late August, more than 180 current and former FEMA employees signed a public letter to Congress warning that cuts to the agency’s full-time staff risk kneecapping its disaster response capabilities.

In response, Kristi Noem, secretary of the Department of Homeland Security, which includes FEMA, said she is working hard to “streamline this bloated organization into a tool that actually benefits Americans in crisis.” The agency then suspended most who had signed their names to the letter.

One Year Later

The Hills had their house moved back from Cattail Creek and temporarily propped up until they could get a new foundation laid. But the foundation work depended on the weather, which was varying degrees of terrible all winter.

Heavy rain triggered flashbacks to Helene, and in February it poured. But one Sunday morning, the Hills turned on the gas fireplace in their camper as the temperatures plummeted and the gray rain turned to snowflakes. Despite the gloom outside, they were gleeful.

A retired contractor from Texas volunteering his skills had become the guiding force in their rebuilding. Volunteers from other states also showed up to help. A group from a church in Georgia who work in construction had just visited. They asked what the Hills wanted in their house.

The Hills mostly wanted to add a bathroom so that their daughter, Lucy, who was 9 at the time, would have her own. The men would try to add one. When they left, the Hills went out to dinner using a gift card and declared it the best day ever, or at least something that had been hard to come by since the storm: a great day.

A few months later, a feeling of hope spread across western North Carolina as the dogwoods and redbuds bloomed in puffs of purple and white. Dandelions dotted patches of grass amid the persistent brown muck of mud and fallen trees. Friends and volunteers became fixtures at the Hills’ house. They depended on so much kindness from people. Brian spent every spare minute working on repairs as well.

With help from FEMA and their community, the Hills are rebuilding their home. Signs of normalcy have slowly returned, including a neighbor’s horses coming by to graze. (Juan Diego Reyes for ProPublica)

Without that initial FEMA money, the Hills’ wrecked house might still be sitting in the moonscape of mud and destruction that persists along Cattail Creek. Instead, as summer waned, the house had electricity, siding, floors, insulation, drywall — and a bathroom for Lucy.

On this one-year anniversary of Helene’s destruction, the Hills expect to move back in any day. Thousands of others aren’t even close.

Michelle now lives alone in the camper. For the past year, donors have been paying half the rent for the lot where she parks the camper. In November, that assistance will come to an end. Michelle has a job working with autistic children but cannot afford the $900 a month on her own.

“It’s just a gravel spot,” she said.

Like the Hills, Michelle credits friends and nonprofits for getting her through the last year. “They just swarmed in and started helping — and lots of them,” she said.

In the spring, Mountain Projects, a local nonprofit that provided the camper, offered her a discounted modular home and a plot of land. Other nonprofits like United Way and Salvation Army have offered to help cover some of the home’s expenses, but Michelle still must come up with $81,000 not yet covered by her insurance or donations.

The buyout program she applied for would pay her the fair market value of her home before the storm, minus her insurance payout. But if she is approved, it could be years before she sees that money. “I’m worried,” she said.

She and Jeff were preapproved for a mortgage loan, but without his income, she isn’t sure she will still qualify. Michelle is thankful for so much help. But a year after Helene, moving into a permanent home feels more unreachable than ever.

The home offered to Michelle by Mountain Projects (Jesse Barber for ProPublica)

ProPublica and The Assembly know recovery in western North Carolina is far from over, and so is our reporting. If you have applied or thought about applying to the state housing recovery program, RenewNC, fill out this form. You can reach us with questions or other stories at helenetips@propublica.org.

Mollie Simon contributed research, and Nadia Sussman and Cassandra Garibay contributed reporting.

Correction

Sept. 27, 2025: A video with this story originally misidentified the subject Brian Hill teaches. Hill teaches high school math, not history.

by Jennifer Berry Hawes, ProPublica, and Ren Larson, The Assembly

This Family Will Return Home After Helene. Their Onerous Journey to Rebuild Shows Why Many Others Won’t.

5 days 11 hours ago

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When Brian and Susie Hill bought a historic house on Cattail Creek in Yancey County, North Carolina, in 2023, they planned to stay forever. Their daughter, Lucy, would chase fireflies in the evenings across their wide expanse of grass.

“It’s that feeling that you always wanted of going home,” Susie said. “Your little family and your little dog and your big yard and the chickens.”

In September 2024, Hurricane Helene upended their lives. After days of rain that saturated the mountains, Helene arrived, turning little streams into raging rivers hundreds of miles inland. The swollen Cattail Creek churned through the Hills’ home, leaving logs in place of furniture and taking porches, doors, windows, appliances and parts of the floor with it.

The Hills watched it all, huddled in their truck parked up a gentle slope. When the water receded, they found the house was uninhabitable.

Suddenly displaced, the Hills began the arduous process of seeking disaster relief from the Federal Emergency Management Agency. The almost $40,000 in federal aid they received allowed them to take critical first steps toward rebuilding. It wasn’t nearly enough money to complete the enormous project. The rest would have to come from their own efforts and an outpouring of community support. Yet it was more than most others in their community managed to muster from the federal disaster aid system.

ProPublica and The Assembly examined federal data, looking at the 10 counties in North Carolina hardest hit by Helene. We found income disparities in the way the agency had distributed housing assistance, even though that aid is supposed to be independent of income. Among the more rural counties hardest hit by Helene, households that got the most FEMA aid tended to be the highest-income ones. In some counties, including Yancey, the highest-income homeowners received two to three times as much money to repair and rebuild their homes as those with lower incomes.

In rural areas, residents can face barriers to seeking assistance ranging from poor access to cellphone and internet service to rugged topography to a lack of money to pay for services.

The reverse was true in urban Buncombe County, home of Asheville, where lower-income homeowners typically received higher FEMA awards for housing assistance. Buncombe is also home to many of the region’s nonprofits that helped low-income residents navigate the FEMA application and appeals process.

For the Hills, it’s been an exhausting year. They’ve been camped in a trailer since January with a view of their former home, working on the house until dark after days of teaching public school. They long for simple comforts of their former life — just sitting in their living room as a family and watching a movie. As the Hills prepare to move back in, we learn in their journey why so many other families may never be able to do so.

Watch the short documentary “Rebuilding After Helene” here.

Correction

Sept. 27, 2025: A video with this story originally misidentified the subject Brian Hill teaches. Hill teaches high school math, not history.

by Nadia Sussman

Are You Still Rebuilding After Hurricane Helene? We Want to Hear From You.

5 days 11 hours ago

ProPublica and The Assembly have been reporting on the impact of Hurricane Helene in western North Carolina, and we know recovery is far from over.

We want to hear from North Carolinians whose homes were damaged or destroyed to better understand how well the state housing recovery program, RenewNC, is working for those who need it. If you’ve applied for funding to repair or rebuild your home, let us know what the process has been like, the challenges you’ve experienced and the impact that’s had on your life. We'd also like to hear from you if your home was damaged but you haven’t applied to understand why.

Filling out the form below is the easiest way to share information with us. If you have anything else you would like to share, let us know at helenetips@propublica.org. After you submit your response, Assembly reporter Ren Larson or ProPublica reporter Cassandra Garibay may follow up for more details.

by Ren Larson, The Assembly, and Cassandra Garibay, ProPublica

I Filmed the ICE Officer Who Shoved a Woman to the Floor Inside a New York Courthouse

5 days 20 hours ago

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U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement has taken one of its agents off the streets after he was caught on video throwing a distraught mother to the floor of a New York City courthouse in front of her two children on Thursday.

It wasn’t the first time videos have captured scenes of immigration agents using violent force to carry out the Trump administration’s mass deportation campaign. But the videos of this incident — one of which I filmed for ProPublica — seemed to stir something different. In a rare move, the government publicly reprimanded an officer for such conduct.

“The officer’s conduct in this video is unacceptable and beneath the men and women of ICE,” an assistant secretary at the Department of Homeland Security, Tricia McLaughlin, said. “Our ICE law enforcement are held to the highest professional standards and this officer is being relieved of current duties as we conduct a full investigation.”

A video filmed by Till Eckert shows the officer throwing Moreta-Galarza to the ground inside the courthouse. (Till Eckert/ProPublica. Edited for privacy by ProPublica.)

Watch video ➜

I’ve only been in the U.S. as a reporter for eight weeks — so I just barely arrived. I come from Germany and am on the staff at Correctiv, a nonprofit investigative newsroom. I’d been alarmed by videos of masked ICE agents sweeping immigrants off the street, scenes I never thought I’d see in the United States, and I came with the goal of witnessing what was going on for myself. I wanted to report on how the administration’s immigration crackdown was playing out from the front lines.

Since arriving, I’ve spent time reporting in immigrant neighborhoods, emergency rooms, churches, ICE field offices and, most recently, in the federal courthouse in lower Manhattan. I’ve gone there most every morning for the past two weeks.

During that time, I’d seen ICE drag several immigrants away from their families, all of them sobbing and pleading with the officers not to separate them from their loved ones.

But what happened Thursday was a shocking escalation.

When I emerged from the elevator on the 14th floor, I heard a woman’s pleas. She sounded terrified. I walked around the corner to see what was happening. At the end of the hallway, I saw the woman, Monica Moreta-Galarza, standing in front of an agent. She was crying because her husband had been detained. She told the agent she was afraid her husband would be hurt. She wanted to go with him.

I began recording and captured the agent barking back at the woman. “Adios,” he said, over and over, pressing toward her as if warning her to back away. When she didn’t, he grabbed her. The rest — including her children’s screams — has been memorialized online.

The federal agent yells and waves his finger at Moreta-Galarza after throwing her to the ground. (Graham Macindoe)

I followed Moreta-Galarza to the hospital. She is an immigrant from Ecuador and has been living in Coney Island since last year. Speaking in Spanish, she said the government routinely beat people in her home country. “I didn’t think I’d come here to the United States and the same thing would happen to me.”

This morning, I went back to the courthouse with the goal of speaking to the agent who’d tackled Moreta-Galarza. I’d heard the other ICE agents call him Victor, though I can’t be sure that’s his real name. By the time I got there, however, he was gone.

ProPublica’s mission is impact. I don’t think any of us expected we’d help bring it about with my video. The question now is what will the government do the next time something like this happens.

I asked DHS how many agents have been disciplined this year for misusing force. They did not answer that question.

If you have tips about new ICE enforcement tactics in courts, we want to hear from you. Reach out via Signal (tilleckert.90) or propublica.org/tips.

by Till Eckert

Kristi Noem Fast-Tracked Millions in Disaster Aid to Florida Tourist Attraction After Campaign Donor Intervened

6 days 10 hours ago

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For months, the complaints have rolled in from parts of the country hit by natural disasters: The Federal Emergency Management Agency was moving far too slowly in sending aid to communities ravaged by floods and hurricanes, including in central Texas and North Carolina. Many officials were blaming Kristi Noem, the homeland security secretary, whose agency oversees FEMA.

“I can’t get phone calls back,” Ted Budd, the Republican senator from North Carolina, told a newspaper this month, describing his attempts to reach Noem’s office. “I can’t get them to initiate the money. It’s just a quagmire.” The delays were caused in part by a new policy announced by DHS that requires Noem’s personal sign-off on expenses over $100,000, several news outlets reported.

But records obtained by ProPublica show how one locality found a way to get FEMA aid more quickly: It asked one of Noem’s political donors for help.

The records show that Noem quickly expedited more than $11 million of federal money to rebuild a historic pier in Naples, Florida, after she was contacted by a major financial supporter last month. The pier is a tourist attraction in the wealthy Gulf Coast enclave and was badly damaged by Hurricane Ian in 2022.

Frustrated city officials had been laboring for months, without success, to get disaster assistance. But just two weeks after the donor stepped in, they were celebrating their sudden change of fortune. “We are now at warp speed with FEMA,” one city official wrote in an email. A FEMA representative wrote: “Per leadership instruction, pushing project immediately.”

Along with fast-tracking the money, Noem flew to Naples on a government plane to tour the pier herself. She then stayed for the weekend and got dinner with the donor, local cardiologist Sinan Gursoy, at the French restaurant Bleu Provence, according to records and an interview with the Naples mayor. This account is based on text messages and emails ProPublica obtained through public records requests.

Noem’s actions in Naples suggest the injection of political favoritism into an agency tasked with saving lives and rebuilding communities wiped out by disaster. It also heightens concerns about the discretion Noem has given herself by personally handling all six-figure expenses at the agency, consolidating her power over who wins and loses in the pursuit of federal relief dollars, experts said.

Jeffrey Schlegelmilch, director of the National Center for Disaster Preparedness at Columbia University, said that politics has long been a factor in federal disaster relief — one study found that swing states are more likely to get federal help, for example. But “I’ve not heard of anything this egregious — a donor calling up and saying I need help and getting it,” he said, “while others may be getting denied assistance or otherwise waiting in line for help that may or may not come.”

In a statement, DHS spokesperson Tricia McLaughlin said, “This has nothing to do with politics: Secretary Noem also visited Ruidoso, NM” — where floods killed three people in July — “at the request of a Democrat governor and has been integral in supporting and speeding up their recovery efforts.”

“Your criticizing the Secretary’s visit to the Pier is bizarre as she works to fix this issue for more than 1 million visitors that used to visit the pier,” McLaughlin added. She did not answer questions about the donor’s role in expediting the funding or Noem’s relationship with him. Reached by phone, Gursoy said “get lost” and hung up. He did not respond to detailed follow up questions.

Noem has been criticized for creating a bottleneck at FEMA. When the floods hit Texas this summer — ultimately killing over 100 people — it took days to deploy critical search-and-rescue teams because Noem hadn’t signed off on them, according to CNN. Budd, the Republican senator, said this month: “Pretty much everything Helene-related is over $100,000. So they’re stacking up on her desk waiting for her signature.”

Noem has denied there were delays in the Texas flood response and has defended her expense policy, saying it has saved billions of dollars. “Every day I get up and I think, the American people are paying for this, should they?” she recently said. “And are these dollars doing what the law says they should be doing? I’m going to make sure that they go there.”

Once a sleepy fishing town, Naples is now home to CEOs and billionaires (a property listed for $295 million recently made headlines as the most expensive home in the U.S.). The city is known as an important stop for Republican politicians raising money, and Noem has held multiple fundraisers in the area. State credit card records suggest she visited Naples at least 10 times during her last four years as South Dakota governor.

Noem’s top adviser, Corey Lewandowski, also appears to own a home in Naples near the city’s pier, according to property tax records. Lewandowski is an unpaid staffer at DHS serving as Noem’s de facto chief of staff. (Media reports have alleged the two are romantically involved, which they have both denied.) Lewandowski told ProPublica that he was not involved in the pier decision and that he was not in Naples during Noem’s visit.

For the first seven months of the Trump administration, the pier reconstruction was in bureaucratic purgatory. The city had long been struggling to secure the regulatory approvals it needed to start building, and emails suggest Trump’s wave of federal layoffs had made the process even slower. “These agencies are undergoing significant reorganizations and staff reductions,” a city official told a frustrated constituent in early August. That “sometimes means starting over with new reviewers — something we’ve faced more than once.”

McLaughlin said “both past FEMA and the City bear responsibility” for the delays. She listed “several failures” since the process started in 2023, including “FEMA staff changing up” and indecision by the city government.

By this summer, Naples officials were getting desperate. In June, one tried to enlist Sen. Rick Scott, R-Fla., to press FEMA to move ahead. “We were told yesterday that Secretary Noem would have to ‘personally’ approve the Pier project before FEMA funding would be obligated,” the city official wrote to the senator’s staff. The Naples mayor, Teresa Heitmann, also personally wrote to FEMA. Heitmann said she was “perplexed” by the delays and begged the agency for guidance.

Heitmann had long been paying expensive Washington consultants to help her city navigate the process. But she was “feeling increasingly helpless,” she later said, until she had the idea that would finally put her project on the fast track. On July 18, the mayor emailed a Google search to herself: “Who is the head of Homeland security?” She was going to go straight to Noem.

Heitmann determined that her best bet for getting Noem’s attention was Gursoy. A Naples cardiologist, Gursoy has no obvious experience working with the federal government; much of his online footprint centers on his enthusiasm for pinball. But Gursoy gave Noem at least $25,000 to support her campaign for governor in 2022. That was enough to put him near the top of Noem’s disclosed donor list. (In South Dakota, campaign contributions remain relatively small.)

On planning documents for the 2024 Republican National Convention obtained by ProPublica, the Florida doctor is listed as an attendee affiliated with the delegation from South Dakota, a state he has no apparent connection to besides his support for Noem. Heitmann told ProPublica that Gursoy introduced her to Noem at a political event at a private home in Naples while Noem was governor.

“Hello it’s Teresa,” the mayor texted Gursoy in early August. “I really need your help.” She explained the tangle of bureaucracy she’d been contending with. “FEMA is holding us up,” Heitmann wrote. “Kristi Noem could put some fire under the FEMA employees slacking.”

Gursoy responded: “Okay. I will get on it.”

The next week, on Aug. 11, the doctor gave Heitmann an update. “Kristi was off for a few days for the first time in a long time, so I left her alone,” he said. “I just txted her now.” Within 24 hours, he had exciting news. He told the mayor to expect a call from Noem’s “FEMA fixer” shortly.

The identity of the “fixer” is not clear, but by Aug. 27, Naples officials were seeing a “flurry of activity” from Noem’s agency. That day, a FEMA staffer told the city that “FEMA is intending to expedite the funding” for the pier. “Secretary Noem took immediate action when I reached out to ask for help,” the mayor soon posted on Facebook.

Two days later, Noem flew to Naples. Her schedule listed a 30-minute walk-through at the pier with the mayor, followed by a nail salon appointment and dinner at Bleu Provence, which serves wagyu short ribs and seared foie gras. Noem then stayed through the weekend at the four-star Naples Bay Resort & Marina. Heitmann told ProPublica she wasn’t at the French dinner but Gursoy was. “I didn’t ask her to come, but she showed up,” the mayor told the local news. “I was very impressed.”

Before she left town, Noem posted about the Naples pier on Instagram. She was finally getting the project back on track, she said. “Americans deserve better than years of red tape and failed disaster responses,” Noem wrote. “Under @POTUS Trump, this incompetency ends.”

DHS did not answer questions about whether the government paid for Noem’s weekend in Naples.

Do you have any information we should know about Kristi Noem, Corey Lewandowski or DHS? Josh Kaplan can be reached by email at joshua.kaplan@propublica.org and by Signal or WhatsApp at 734-834-9383. Justin Elliott can be reached by email at justin@propublica.org and by Signal or WhatsApp at 774-826-6240.

by Joshua Kaplan, Justin Elliott and Alex Mierjeski

Failed Root Canals, Lost Implants: How a Utah Dentist Accused of Substandard Care Was Allowed to Keep Practicing

6 days 11 hours ago

This article was produced for ProPublica’s Local Reporting Network in partnership with The Salt Lake Tribune. Sign up for Dispatches to get our stories in your inbox every week.

The patients kept coming to the Utah oral surgeon’s office — one after another, year after year — with dental work that the surgeon said had gone wrong. He later recounted in a letter to state licensors that he had seen dental implants that had been the wrong size, patients with chronic sinus infections and one person whose implant had become lost inside their sinus cavity. These patients, he said, had all been worked on by the same dentist: Dr. Nicholas LaFeber.

The surgeon, a 30-year veteran, wrote the letter in November 2022 after Utah’s licensing division asked for his opinion of work done by LaFeber, whose license was on probation after the agency determined he had provided substandard care to more than a dozen patients. His warning was blunt: He believed LaFeber wouldn’t improve as a dentist and should not be performing dental implant procedures. He had seen LaFeber make the same mistakes in patients for years, he wrote, causing “severe” and sometimes life-changing complications.

“I believe that he is not competent to place implants,” the oral surgeon, Dr. Creed Haymond, concluded. “I give this opinion with soberness and sadness, but I feel I have a duty to aid the board in protecting the public from what appears to be an incompetent practitioner.”

His assessment of LaFeber’s skills in restorative dentistry was also mentioned in a February 2023 order regarding agency action on LaFeber’s license. Haymond did not respond to interview requests.

This was the second letter that Utah’s Division of Professional Licensing had received recommending that LaFeber be stopped or limited from practicing after more than a decade of dentistry in Utah, according to records obtained by The Salt Lake Tribune and ProPublica. The agency licenses Utah dentists and other professionals and investigates allegations of misconduct.

Two years prior, another dentist who had considered buying one of LaFeber’s practices recommended LaFeber’s license be revoked after looking through patient files: “As I started going through charts, as well as seeing the previous work, I began to realize how poor he treated these individuals,” wrote Dr. Brandon McKee. “Patients with failed implants are put on antibiotics and told to wait while the implant is continuing to heal. Some of these are for nine months.”

This letter was discussed in a September 2020 public dentistry board meeting. McKee did not respond to interview requests.

The licensing division’s dentistry board — whose members are mostly dentists and hygienists — recommended to Utah licensing director Mark Steinagel in December 2022 that LaFeber’s license be revoked after reviewing additional evidence suggesting his skills had not improved.

But despite this recommendation and the letters of warning from his colleagues, Steinagel reinstated LaFeber’s license in May 2023 after the dentist completed three years of probation, which included taking remedial classes.

Mark Steinagel, director of the state agency that licenses Utah professionals, reinstated Nicholas LaFeber’s license even though the agency’s dentistry board recommended that it be revoked. (Rick Egan/The Salt Lake Tribune)

Since LaFeber’s license was reinstated, new patients say they’ve been hurt. The Tribune and ProPublica spoke with two patients who say they saw the dentist within the last year for what they believed would be routine cavity fillings. Instead, they say they left in pain that became prolonged and ultimately required the procedures to be redone by other dentists. Neither knew when they sought dental care that LaFeber had nearly lost his license after regulators determined his work fell below the standard of care.

“I had never had this done before, so I didn’t know what’s normal,” said one patient, Michelle Lipsey. “I was just like, ‘He’s an adult, male dentist. He probably knows what he’s doing.’”

Lipsey filed a complaint against LaFeber with licensors in July detailing her experience, but the agency closed the case a month later and took no disciplinary action.

LaFeber said he would not discuss individual patients because they did not grant him permission to do so. He told The Tribune and ProPublica that he has always tried to keep his patients’ best interests in mind. “I had a few outcomes from dental work that had complications and needed further treatment,” he wrote in an email in response to questions.

“I assume every dentist encounters some percentage of negative patient outcomes and I have no reason to believe that my practice had a higher percentage than others.”

Melanie Hall, a spokesperson for Steinagel and the Division of Professional Licensing, said in response to questions that the division only revokes someone’s license when their conduct has been “especially egregious” because doing so “ends a career.”

The agency’s top priority, she said, is keeping Utahns safe — but she added that it also wants to ensure that licensees have a chance at “professional rehabilitation” and, when appropriate, can continue to work and earn money.

The state has revoked two dental licenses since June 2015, according to a Tribune and ProPublica examination of a decade’s worth of publicly available licensing division records.

Hall said that LaFeber’s license was reinstated despite the dental board’s recommendation because the dentist had finished the remedial courses that the board required him to take and his probationary period was ending. She noted that no other patients filed a complaint during that three-year period and that the dental board’s role was to only make recommendations to Steinagel and his staff.

That decision bothered some of those who served on the dental board during that time. Two former board members told The Tribune and ProPublica that they were frustrated state licensing division leaders did not listen to them and that they felt LaFeber should not practice dentistry given his record. Both spoke on the condition of anonymity because of potential professional repercussions.

“You hate to take somebody’s livelihood away from them when they’ve gone through years of dental school and had a practice,” one of the former board members said. “But the board’s job is to protect the public.”

In LaFeber’s case, the former board member said, “the public was not well-served.”

LaFeber, without knowing the identities of the board members, suggested that some might have been biased against him.

“Every One of These Cases Was Alarming”

LaFeber said in public dentistry board meetings that he came to the attention of the licensing division in late 2019 after one of his former employees filed a complaint. He said the employee, who he said he had previously fired, directed licensors to more than a dozen cases in which he admitted during a board meeting that he had provided “poor patient care.”

State licensing officials could have suspended or revoked LaFeber’s license, but instead, in early 2020, they struck an agreement with LaFeber — a common outcome in license discipline cases. According to the agreement, investigators found that some of the patients in those cases had had root canals that resulted in infections or needed to be redone. Licensors also determined that LaFeber had improperly placed permanent replacement teeth in other patients, including one whose implant extended into the sinus cavity, the document said.

LaFeber agreed to spend three years on professional probation, during which he would be under the supervision of another dentist whose time he was required to pay for. He was still allowed to perform dental work during that period, according to the stipulation, but agreed not to do implant procedures or root canals.

He was not required to tell his current or future patients about this discipline. Like most other states, Utah has no law requiring patient disclosure when a licensed professional is disciplined, and a review of more than 3,200 filings from the licensing division’s website shows the state has rarely required disclosure of unprofessional conduct to patients.

The Utah regulators who discipline licensed professionals act only when someone files a complaint, like what happened in LaFeber’s case. “We don’t have manpower or staffing for proactive investigations,” Larry Marx, the state’s health care licensing bureau manager, explained to the dental board in a 2020 public meeting.

Once LaFeber was on probation, oversight of his progress moved to the dental board, an advisory group whose role it is to interview probationers in quarterly public meetings and make recommendations to Steinagel about whether the professionals completed their probation and if they should have their licenses reinstated.

In these interviews with the dental board, LaFeber admitted his mistakes. He blamed bad outcomes on being burned out from owning four dental clinics, and he said he had done procedures on friends and acquaintances who actually needed more specialized care but didn’t have the money.

“Some of it I will just admit was a poor, poor choice on my part,” he told the board, according to a recording of the meeting. “And I can also say for some of them, they are very dear friends of mine, that I have either coached their kids or helped them in Scouts or something else, single moms, and trying to help them out.”

Dr. Nicholas LaFeber’s profile on the website of his practice, Sandy Center Dental (Screenshot by ProPublica)

In addition to the problems that the former employee initially reported to the state licensing division, one dental board member, Dr. Ruedi Tillmann, looked at more than a dozen other files of LaFeber’s during the first few months of his probation and found other cases in which Tillmann saw indications that patients had poor outcomes, according to a December 2020 board meeting.

Tillmann, a dentist, said during the online meeting that he saw “a number of cases” where LaFeber did four or five implants on a single patient and none of them properly integrated into the patient’s jawbone. “Poor margins, open margins, implant crowns not sitting on implants correctly,” he said about patient files he reviewed. “I’m sorry to be harsh. It’s just that every one of these cases was alarming to me.”

Dr. Daniel Poulson, another dentist on the board, questioned why LaFeber would do substandard work on his patients, including people he said he knew and cared about.

“With 30 cases, what that communicates to me is you didn’t learn. You just kept doing it,” Poulson said during the same meeting. “And to blame that on being stressed or overworked — we’re all stressed. Dentistry is an incredibly stressful profession. But that shouldn’t, in my mind, make an excuse for ill-treating a patient. Using a lot of antibiotics to cover infections that last years is just out of bounds.”

LaFeber told the board during this meeting that he was confident he could improve his dentistry by taking continuing education courses and by being more selective about patients and referring them more often to specialists instead of trying to do the work himself.

He also downsized to just one clinic, Sandy Center Dental, a wood-trimmed office suite in a large, tan stucco building located in a Salt Lake City suburb at the base of the Wasatch Mountains.

“They Were So Disgusted With All the Problems”

LaFeber met with the dental board 11 times during his probation in public meetings that were often conducted on video calls because of the coronavirus pandemic. He was cheerful and agreeable during meetings, even at times when board members asked him pointed, critical questions about his work.

His polite nature was noted several times in records reviewed by The Tribune and ProPublica. For example, McKee, the dentist who had considered buying LaFeber’s practice, wrote in his letter to the board that LaFeber came across as a “humble,” “very nice guy” who patients trusted. A dentist who leads a dental examination agency wrote in his summary of an exam that LaFeber took that he was “overly pleasant to the extreme.”

Members of the dental board remarked during public meetings about how “unique” LaFeber’s case was, and they questioned what the right metric would be to determine whether his dentistry had improved and he was safe to work with patients.

Utah licensors rarely discipline dentists over whether they are competent to do their jobs, an analysis by The Tribune and ProPublica found. A review of disciplinary records from the last decade shows dentists most often getting in trouble for drug or alcohol use or for overprescribing or diverting prescriptions.

Hall, the licensing division spokesperson, said the agency does not track how many standard-of-care complaints it receives, but acknowledged that proving those types of cases tends to be difficult.

“As a result, they are less likely to lead to disciplinary actions compared to cases involving drug use, unlawful behavior, or practicing outside one’s scope of practice,” she said.

But tension was growing between LaFeber and the dental board: While LaFeber had taken a few online, self-paced courses, board members felt he needed more intensive, hands-on classes to improve.

A breaking point between LaFeber and the board occurred near the end of LaFeber’s probation. At the December 2022 dental board meeting, LaFeber peppered members with questions about the board’s role governing probationers and implied that a board member had acted improperly by soliciting complaints about him.

The board seemed equally frustrated; LaFeber still hadn’t enrolled in the hands-on courses they had required him to take, programs that could have cost up to $50,000. LaFeber had instead taken a licensure exam and failed several sections, according to a copy of the exam results obtained by The Tribune and ProPublica, which was also referenced in the 2023 agency order.

LaFeber did not respond on the record to questions about these test results.

Given the test results, Poulson, who had become board chair, said in the public meeting that he worried whether LaFeber would be able to practice dentistry safely by the following February, when his probation period would end.

“I have two doctors that once tried to buy your practice. They gave it back because they were so disgusted with all the problems they were having with patients,” Tillmann, one of the board members, said in that same meeting, recalling previous conversations he had.

LaFeber’s practice, Sandy Center Dental. LeFeber was not required to tell his current or future patients about his probation. (Francisco Kjolseth/The Salt Lake Tribune)

Poulson suggested that the group make a motion recommending that the state licensing division either revoke or suspend LaFeber’s license, saying that the action would be “protecting the public from inferior care.” The board unanimously voted to recommend revocation.

A few months later, Marx issued the agency order stating that LaFeber’s license should be suspended until he could demonstrate he could practice dentistry “with reasonable skill and safety.”

LaFeber, though, had one more chance to respond before the suspension would take effect. Soon after the agency order, LaFeber enrolled in and completed his remedial training. He also hired an attorney who signaled his intent to fight the agency’s action, according to public records.

In response, Marx requested that the agency’s move to suspend LaFeber’s license be dismissed, noting that LaFeber said he had delayed complying with the dental board’s requirement that he complete further training because of “financial limitations.” Then, Steinagel reinstated LaFeber’s license.

By this point, Steinagel’s agency knew not only about the reports of patients with improper tooth implants and the failed root canals that led to LaFeber’s probation, it also knew the state dental board had recommended that LaFeber’s license be revoked.

In addition, the agency was aware LaFeber had been sued three times for medical malpractice — including by a patient who alleged he had implants placed in his sinuses, which caused sepsis, and another patient who said in her lawsuit that, after months of painful infections, she went to another dentist who found a broken dental instrument lodged in her gums. (LaFeber told The Tribune and ProPublica these lawsuits were settled by his medical malpractice insurance carrier and there was never any determination made that his treatment fell below the standard of care.)

LaFeber said in response to questions that he was not aware of any recommendation from the board to revoke his license — though according to recordings and minutes of the public dentistry board meetings, he was present when the dentistry board took its vote. The board’s revocation recommendation is also referenced in the agency order he received, which The Tribune and ProPublica obtained through a public records request.

The dentist said he felt he was treated fairly by licensors and most members of the dentistry board, but added that he felt one board member did not disclose a conflict of interest and had a “personal vendetta” against him. LaFeber did not respond on the record to follow-up questions asking for further details. He said he complied with every request by licensors and its dentistry board and “even went above and beyond” by taking additional continuing education. He noted that he passed the remediation courses and related tests that the board had requested.

“I also worked with a supervising dentist, at significant expense, who reviewed my work and provided mentoring for 3 years between 2020 and 2023,” LaFeber wrote.

After taking these courses, he said, he has been able to incorporate new technology in his practices that has improved patient outcomes. “Dentistry is an area that is constantly evolving with so much new technology,” he said, “and I welcome all information sources that can help me improve my practice.”

The Tribune and ProPublica asked the two former board members who spoke to the news organizations whether their vote to recommend LaFeber’s license be revoked would have changed if they had the opportunity to weigh in again after he had completed his remedial training.

One former board member said they didn’t think the training completed to satisfy the state was enough to overcome years of poor dentistry. Another said that nothing seems to have changed given new patient complaints. Three board members who were involved in LaFeber’s case declined to comment for this story, and four others could not be reached.

New Patients Say They Were Harmed

With his license restored, LaFeber started to once again grow his business. Public records show he still owns Sandy Center Dental, and in July 2024 he got a business license for a second clinic about 10 miles to the west. (An online ad this summer indicated LaFeber was trying to sell his second practice.)

LaFeber is referenced as the sole dentist on websites for both of these businesses. In his response to The Tribune and ProPublica, he said he owns and operates a single office, Sandy Center Dental, where he works four days a week. A Sept. 23 search of public business records show he is still listed as the registered agent and principal for both practices. LaFeber said he helped start the second office, Parkway Smile Center, but said it is now “entirely owned and managed by another dentist.” The new owner could not be reached for comment.

In the nearly two years since LaFeber’s full return to practice, at least two more patients have publicly complained they were harmed under his care, both of whom The Tribune and ProPublica contacted after they left negative online reviews.

Michelle Lipsey had been a patient at Sandy Center Dental for nearly eight years, but she said in an interview that she hadn’t been to the dentist for a couple years after her second child was born. She said LaFeber told her during an October 2024 appointment that she needed five cavities filled. She returned a week later for the procedures.

For weeks after, Lipsey was in pain, and she returned to Sandy Center Dental later that month, complaining that she couldn’t sleep and was only able to eat soft food, according to her medical records. LaFeber redid some of the fillings, medical records show, but Lipsey said the pain persisted. She said a second dentist told her that LaFeber hadn’t properly sealed the fillings and had drilled far deeper than he needed to.

LaFeber noted in her medical records that he tried to call and text Lipsey after she left a negative review online. “Remember patient was very nervous,” her patient file reads. “We tried our best to help calm but at no point had the appointment gone as she described in the post.”

Haley Stafford described a similar experience earlier this year. She said that, based on what LeFeber told her, she was expecting to have two cavities filled during a March appointment; instead, he put fillings in seven teeth. She recalled in an interview that his hands shook when he gave her numbing shots. (The testing exam results reviewed by The Tribune and ProPublica also noted LaFeber’s unsteady hands.)

“That was the first time he actually did work on me,” she said. “And it was completely botched.”

She’s been in near-daily pain since, she said, and has needed more dental work on her affected teeth, including two root canals. Stafford found a new dentist, but the repair work has cost her thousands of dollars.

Both Stafford and Lipsey said LaFeber contacted them about refunding their money.

LaFeber said he doesn’t recall refunding money to any patients after a complaint. He said he could not comment on specific cases to protect patient privacy, but said that sensitivity and pain can happen after a treatment.

“We try to do all we can to minimize it,” he said. “The presence of pain does not demonstrate treatment that fell below the standard of care.”

Lipsey filed a complaint with licensors in late July and said she was interviewed by an investigator and shared X-rays from before and after LaFeber filled her cavities.

Licensors sent Lipsey an email in late August saying that they were closing the case and that “appropriate action was taken,” according to a screenshot of the email Lipsey shared with The Tribune and ProPublica. They would not tell her what that action was, saying the investigative record was considered private under Utah law. Licensing officials declined to comment on the outcome of Lipsey’s complaint.

If licensors had disciplined LaFeber, it would be considered a public record. The agency has the option to address a complaint informally by giving a verbal warning to a licensed professional or writing a letter of concern. Those measures typically are not disclosed to the public.

LaFeber told The Tribune and ProPublica that Lipsey’s complaint was dismissed and he did not receive any warnings or a letter of concern. Licensors “investigated it thoroughly and found it to be meritless,” he said.

LaFeber’s license remains in good standing, according to the state’s licensing database in September.

Stafford hasn’t filed a complaint with the state and said she had no idea LaFeber had nearly lost his license until a reporter reached out to her.

How does a dentist nearly “lose their license and get it back,” she asked, “and patients are not aware of that?”

by Jessica Schreifels, The Salt Lake Tribune

NIH Launches New Multimillion-Dollar Initiative to Reduce U.S. Stillbirth Rate

1 week ago

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The National Institutes of Health has launched a five-year, $37 million stillbirth consortium in a pivotal effort to reduce what it has called the country’s “unacceptably high” stillbirth rate.

The announcement last week thrilled doctors, researchers and families and represented a commitment by the agency to prioritize stillbirth, the death of an expected child at 20 weeks or more.

“What we’re really excited about is not only the investment in trying to prevent stillbirth, but also continuing that work with the community to guide the research,” Alison Cernich, acting director of the NIH’s Eunice Kennedy Shriver National Institute of Child Health and Human Development, said in an interview.

Four clinical sites and one data coordinating center spanning the country — California, Oregon, Utah, New York and North Carolina — will come together to form the consortium, each bringing its own expertise. Most will focus on ways to predict and prevent stillbirths, though they also plan to address bereavement and mental health after a loss. Research shows that of the more than 20,000 stillbirths in the U.S. each year, as many as 25% may be prevented. For deliveries at 37 weeks or more, that figure jumps to nearly half.

The teams plan to meet for the first time on Friday to discuss possible research targets. Those include: understanding why some placentas fail and fetuses don’t grow properly; assessing decreased fetal movement; considering the best times for delivery and using advanced technology to explore how blood tests, biomarkers and ultrasounds may help predict a stillbirth. They also may evaluate how electronic medical records and artificial intelligence could help doctors and nurses identify early signs of stillbirth risk. While the announcement did not mention racial disparities, a representative said the consortium hopes to identify factors that determine who is at a higher risk of having a stillbirth.

For many families, the devastation of a stillbirth is followed by a lack of answers, including how and why the loss occurred. The teams will collaborate with the stillbirth community through advisory groups. The North Carolina team will oversee data collection and standardization. Incomplete, delayed and sometimes inaccurate stillbirth data has been an impediment to prevention efforts.

“If we could see the signs and deliver the baby earlier, so that the mom has a live baby, that’s I think what we’re all hoping for,” said Dr. Cynthia Gyamfi-Bannerman, the chair and professor of obstetrics, gynecology and reproductive sciences at the University of California San Diego, who will co-lead the effort there.

The consortium follows a national shift in the conversation around stillbirth, which has long been a neglected public health concern. ProPublica began reporting on stillbirths in 2022 and, in 2025, the news organization released a documentary following the lives of three women trying to make pregnancy safer in America following their stillbirths.

Debbie Haine Vijayvergiya, who was featured in the documentary, has spent years asking Congress to support stillbirth legislation and urging lawmakers to pass the Stillbirth Health Improvement and Education (SHINE) for Autumn Act, named after her stillborn daughter Autumn Joy. Two days after that the NIH announced the consortium, Republican and Democratic members of Congress reintroduced the bill.

“I feel like our moment has finally arrived, and we are being included in all this tremendously important lifesaving work that’s being done,” she said.

Congress had previously mandated a stillbirth working group, which the NICHD formed in 2022, and heard directly from stillbirth families. The working group released a federal report calling the country’s stillbirth rate “unacceptably high.” The U.S. lags far behind other wealthy countries in reducing its stillbirth rate.

Dr. Bob Silver, a leading stillbirth expert at the University of Utah Health, has spent decades working on stillbirth prevention. He is the co-director of the University of Utah Stillbirth Center of Excellence, which focuses on both prevention and compassionate care after a loss, and will lead the consortium’s efforts in the state.

“There’s no question that the ProPublica reporting was intimately tied to this,” Silver said. “You can’t always draw a straight line between those things. But in this case, you can draw a very straight line.”

While some studies, including the NIH’s Human Placenta Project, have indirectly contributed to stillbirth research, the consortium is the first stillbirth-specific initiative of this scale since the Stillbirth Collaborative Research Network more than a decade ago. Both Silver and Dr. Uma Reddy, a professor of obstetrics and gynecology at Columbia University, worked together on the research network and will again on the consortium.

“We need to be able to get our rates down to similar high-income countries,” Reddy said. “This initiative to really look at reducing the stillbirth rate and to look at preventing them is so important, and it’s really about time.”

Dr. Karen Gibbins, an assistant professor of obstetrics and gynecology at Oregon Health & Science University, had just finished her morning clinic when she received the email a few days before the official announcement informing her that both she and OHSU had been selected as part of the consortium.

Gibbins, whom ProPublica wrote about for advocating for more autopsies following the stillbirth of her son Sebastian, almost couldn’t believe it. She logged on to a federal grant website to confirm, then she stepped outside her office and gave her division director a hug.

“Stillbirth is such a huge public health issue, and one that historically has not had as much attention,” Gibbins said. “The fact that we have this investment of centers that are going to be taking these different approaches to fight stillbirth and to prevent stillbirth, and also to provide better care to families who do experience stillbirth, it’s a piece of hope that I think we all needed.”

Gibbins and her team specialize in studying the role of chronic stress, nutrition and heart health.

The NIH has distributed the first year of funding, about $7.3 million, which includes $750,000 provided by the Department of Health and Human Services. Despite the cuts at NIH, officials said they are optimistic that they will be able to fund the project for the remaining four years.

“The reason that we are doing this is because stillbirth affects 1 in 160 deliveries in the United States a year, and it is really traumatic for families, and it is not talked about,” Cernich said. “We are in a great place to really try to tackle this preventable tragedy.”

by Duaa Eldeib

A New Lawsuit Alleges the Gun Industry Exploited Firearm Owners’ Data for Political Gain

1 week ago

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Two major law firms accused the National Shooting Sports Foundation this week of violating the privacy rights of millions of gun owners by running a decades-long program that sent their information to political operatives without consent.

The allegations in a lawsuit filed Monday in federal court by Keller Rohrback of Seattle and Motley Rice of Connecticut closely mirror the findings of a ProPublica investigation that detailed the secret program operated by the gun industry’s largest trade group.

The 24-page complaint asks the court for approval of class-action status and requests financial damages against the NSSF, claiming the gun industry lobbyist enriched itself by exploiting valuable gun buyer information for political gain. It features the accounts of two gun owners, Daniel Cocanour and Dale Rimkus, both of whom assert they purchased rifles, pistols and handguns from the 1990s through the mid-2010s.

ProPublica identified at least 10 gun industry businesses, including Glock, Smith & Wesson and Remington, that handed over hundreds of thousands of names and addresses, along with other private data, to the NSSF. The lobbying group then entered the details into what would become a massive database, which was used to rally gun owners’ electoral support for the industry’s preferred candidates running for the White House and Congress.

The data initially came from decades of warranty cards filled out by customers and returned to gun manufacturers for rebates and repair or replacement programs. A ProPublica review of dozens of warranty cards from the 1970s through today found that some promised customers their information would be kept strictly confidential. Others said some information could be shared with third parties for marketing and sales. None of the cards informed buyers their details would be used by lobbyists and consultants to help win elections.

Cocanour and Rimkus claimed to have regularly shared personal information when filling out warranty cards for Glock, Remington, Smith & Wesson and other manufacturers thinking it was in their best interest. They say they weren’t told of the companies’ participation in the NSSF program, according to the lawsuit, which was filed in Connecticut.

“Through the complaint, two brave plaintiffs have stepped forward to vindicate the rights of millions of their fellow firearms purchasers,” lead attorney Benjamin Gould of Keller Rohrback wrote in a statement to ProPublica. “We look forward to gathering evidence to prove the truth of our allegations and holding NSSF accountable for its actions.”

Keller Rohrback has a specialty in cybersecurity and data breach cases. The firm recently won a landmark $725 million class-action settlement from Facebook after accusing the company of allowing political consulting firm Cambridge Analytica to obtain user information without consent. Motley Rice is one of the nation’s largest consumer protection law firms; its founder, Ron Motley, garnered fame for leading lawsuits against big tobacco companies during the 1990s.

Representatives from gun violence prevention groups called the lawsuit a major development in trying to hold the gun industry responsible for the data sharing.

“This is a hideous breach of privacy by the gun industry,” said Justin Wagner, senior director of investigations at Everytown for Gun Safety. “The NSSF must come clean and face accountability.”

Founded in 1961 and currently based in Shelton, Connecticut, the NSSF represents thousands of firearms and ammunition manufacturers, distributors, retailers, publishers and shooting ranges. The trade group didn’t respond to ProPublica’s request for comment. The organization previously defended its data collection, saying its “activities are, and always have been, entirely legal and within the terms and conditions of any individual manufacturer, company, data broker, or other entity.”

The NSSF has faced criticism in the aftermath of ProPublica’s reporting. Sen. Richard Blumenthal, a Connecticut Democrat, slammed the data sharing. And a prominent gun owner rights organization, Gun Owners for Safety, asked the FBI and the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives to investigate the NSSF. Gun Owners for Safety is operated by Giffords, which was co-founded by Gabby Giffords, the Arizona lawmaker who survived an attempted assassination in 2011, and it advocates for improved background checks and other measures aimed at reducing gun-related deaths. Chris Harris, a spokesperson for Giffords, said the FBI and ATF have not responded to the request for an inquiry into the NSSF.

Privacy experts previously told ProPublica that companies that shared information with the NSSF may have violated federal and state prohibitions against deceptive and unfair business practices. Under federal law, companies must comply with their own privacy policies and be clear about how they will use consumers’ information, privacy experts said.

Shani Henry, a member of Gun Owners for Safety, said ProPublica’s reporting showed the industry’s hypocrisy on the issue of privacy.

“They don’t care about our families’ safety or the rights of everyday gun owners, they’re more than happy to betray their own customers for political power and money,” Henry said. “Gun owners’ privacy was violated and we deserve a full accounting of what happened and who profited from it.”

The gun industry launched the data-sharing project approximately 17 months before the 2000 election as it grappled with a cascade of financial, legal and political threats. Within three years, the NSSF’s database — filled with warranty card information and supplemented with names from voter rolls and hunting licenses — contained at least 5.5 million people.

Most of the companies named in the NSSF documents, including Glock and Smith & Wesson, previously declined to comment or did not respond to ProPublica. Remington has since been split into two companies and sold. RemArms, which owns the old firearms division, previously said it was unaware of the company’s workings at the time. The other portion of the company is now owned by Remington Ammunition, which said it had “not provided personal information to the NSSF or any of its vendors.”

In 2016, as part of a push to get Donald Trump elected president for the first time and to help Republicans keep control of the Senate, the NSSF worked with Cambridge Analytica to turbocharge the information it had on potential voters. Cambridge matched up the people in the database with 5,000 additional facts about them that it drew from other sources. Along with the potential voters’ income, debts and religious affiliation, analysts collected information like whether they enjoyed the work of the painter Thomas Kinkade and whether the underwear women had purchased was plus size or petite.

by Corey G. Johnson

Nick McMillan Joins ProPublica as Computational Journalist

1 week 1 day ago

ProPublica has hired Nick McMillan as a computational journalist on our data and news apps team. In this role, McMillan will use technology and data in innovative ways to find and report stories that would otherwise be out of reach.

“Nick has an impressive track record of using cutting-edge technology to unlock reporting paths,” said Ken Schwencke, senior editor for data and news applications. “I’m excited for him to use those skills to hold power to account at ProPublica.”

McMillan comes to ProPublica from NPR, where he was a data journalist on the investigations team. At NPR, he combined reporting with data analysis, building tools that transformed raw records into evidence for investigations. His work included developing a custom optical character recognition program to parse more than 7,000 government work task files, which helped to reveal how a federal program was killing thousands of wild animals with little accountability. He also co-reported a story revealing how power lines operated by Southern California Edison sparked new fires as crews battled existing ones, creating a tool that processed and transcribed more than 2,000 hours of first responder radio into searchable, time-stamped timelines. Before NPR, he worked on investigative documentaries at Newsy, contributing to reporting on white supremacists in the U.S. military and on the long-term effects of Hurricane Maria on Puerto Rican schoolchildren.

Stories that McMillan has worked on have been recognized nationwide with honors including the National Press Award and an Edward R. Murrow Award.

“ProPublica has led the way for applying data and computational methodologies to uncover abuses of power,” McMillan said. “I am excited to join the team and grateful for the opportunity to contribute to investigations that serve the public.”

by ProPublica

Georgia’s Medicaid Work Requirement Program Spent Twice as Much on Administrative Costs as on Health Care, GAO Says

1 week 1 day ago

This article was produced for ProPublica’s Local Reporting Network in partnership with The Current. Sign up for Dispatches to get stories like this one as soon as they are published.

Update, Sept. 24, 2025: This story has been updated to reflect that on Sept. 23, 2025, the Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services extended the Georgia Pathways program through 2026.

Most of the tax dollars used to launch and implement the nation’s only Medicaid work requirement program have gone toward paying administrative costs rather than covering health care for Georgians, according to a new report by the Government Accountability Office, the nonpartisan agency that monitors federal programs and spending.

The government report examined administrative expenses for Georgia Pathways to Coverage, the state’s experiment with work requirements. It follows previous reporting by The Current and ProPublica showing that the program has cost federal and state taxpayers more than $86.9 million while enrolling a tiny fraction of those eligible for free health care.

The GAO analysis, which does not include all the Pathways administrative expenses detailed by the news outlets, shows that as of April the Georgia program had spent $54.2 million on administrative costs since 2021, compared to $26.1 million spent on health care costs. Nearly 90% of administrative expenditures came from the federal budget, the report concluded, meaning that Georgia’s experiment is being funded by taxpayers around the country. Federal spending will likely increase given that the Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services has approved $6 million more in administrative costs not reflected in this report because it was published before the state submitted invoices.

The spending watchdog agency echoed its 2019 criticism of the Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services for a lack of oversight of administrative costs associated with state initiatives approved in the name of Medicaid reform.

The September GAO report said the Medicaid agency never required Georgia to detail the costs of building and implementing the program. The federal approval process for states that want to experiment with their Medicaid systems “does not take into account the extent to which demonstrations will increase administrative costs,” the report said.

Georgia Gov. Brian Kemp, a Republican, promoted Pathways as an example of how fellow conservatives around the country could overhaul federal safety net benefits and end reliance on what critics deride as handouts to low-income Americans. Congressional Republicans cited Pathways as a model for the federal Medicaid work requirement law passed in July that will take effect in 2027. The Georgia Pathways program was slated to expire Oct. 1, but the Trump administration on Tuesday approved an extension of the experiment through Dec. 31, 2026.

The Georgia program was supposed to expand free health care to a group the state had previously deemed ineligible for Medicaid: adults under 65 years old who earn less than the federal poverty line of $15,650 a year. To qualify, Georgians had to prove that they work, study or volunteer at least 80 hours a month.

But enrollment in Georgia Pathways has remained low. The most recent state data shows that 9,175 of the nearly quarter-million low-income Georgians eligible for the program were enrolled as of Aug. 31. Previous reporting by The Current and ProPublica revealed that was due to glitches in the digital platform people must use to enroll, chronic understaffing in the state agency charged with enrollment help and a maze of bureaucratic red tape.

Georgia officials previously told The Current and ProPublica that Pathways was never designed to maximize enrollment. Carter Chapman, Kemp’s spokesperson, said Monday that the Kemp administration remains committed to Pathways and making refinements to meet the health care needs of Georgians.

In December Democratic senators critical of Medicaid work requirements, including Georgia’s Jon Ossoff and Raphael Warnock, had asked the GAO to report on the administrative costs of implementing Pathways and verifying that recipients are working, studying or volunteering.

“Administrative spending has outpaced spending for medical assistance (e.g., health care services)” for Georgia Pathways, the report said. “This was likely driven by the up-front administrative changes needed to implement the demonstration, the delayed start date for enrollment, and any duplication in administrative spending due to the delay.”

Georgia officials told the GAO that the administrative costs associated with Pathways increased by 20% to 30% because of a two-year delay caused by legal battles with the Biden administration, which tried to end all Medicaid work requirement programs that had been approved before the Democratic president took office in 2021. State officials said the delay resulted in having to duplicate some spending, including IT system changes, staff training and other implementation costs, the report said. The report did not provide evidence to support the state’s assertion.

“This report was requested by the same individuals who have no new or good ideas for addressing healthcare needs in Georgia,” Chapman said in a statement. “Now, as other states prepare to adopt our model and reject one-size-fits-none big government healthcare, Democrats like Senators Ossoff and Warnock are trying to rewrite history after four years of inaction and blame the State for costs associated with their own stonewalling.”

Warnock said the GAO’s findings reinforce his opposition to the Trump administration’s push to nationalize work requirements because of the amount of tax dollars going to expenses other than health care.

“Now the entire country can see what we in Georgia already know: Georgia’s Medicaid work reporting requirement program is the real waste, fraud, and abuse,” Warnock said in a statement. “This report shows that Pathways is incredibly effective at barring working people from health coverage and making corporate consultants richer.”

Ossoff called Georgia Pathways “a boondoggle that’s wasted tens of millions on pricey consultants while Georgia hospitals struggle and Georgians get sick without health insurance.”

The GAO report does not include the $27 million that Deloitte Consulting earned to market Pathways or the approximately $10 million that went toward additional consulting, including by other firms, and legal fees related to the state’s two-year court battle with the Biden administration.

Deloitte did not respond to a request for comment. The firm previously declined to answer questions about its Georgia Pathways work, referring requests for information to the state’s Department of Community Health. The agency did not respond to requests for comment but previously described Deloitte’s marketing and outreach work as “robust” and “comprehensive.”

by Margaret Coker, The Current

“His Audience Was Really Trump”: How New FBI Lead Used His Missouri AG Role to Wage a Culture War

1 week 1 day ago

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After a fight with a Black student in a St. Louis suburb left a white student badly injured in March 2024, Missouri Attorney General Andrew Bailey blamed their school district for unsafe conditions, even though the incident occurred after classes and more than a half-mile from campus.

Bailey seized on the fight as evidence of what he called the Hazelwood School District’s misplaced priorities. He sent a letter to the superintendent demanding documents on the district’s diversity policies and accused leaders of “prioritizing race-based policies over basic student safety.” Bailey argued that the district’s dispute with local police departments over its requirement that officers participate in diversity training — an impasse that resulted in some departments leaving schools without resource officers — had left students vulnerable.

In response, the school board’s attorney said Bailey had misrepresented basic facts: The district employed dozens of security guards at schools where it could not assign resource officers, and even if it did have police officers stationed at the school, those officers would not have handled an after-hours, off-campus fight. Finally, police found no evidence that race played a role in the fight.

The attorney general’s office took no further action.

“He was just trying to get attention,” said school board President Sylvester Taylor II.

The legal skirmish was the kind of publicity-getting move that defined Bailey’s two years and eight months as Missouri’s attorney general before his surprise selection last month by President Donald Trump as a co-deputy director of the FBI, according to experts who study the work of attorneys general.

As Missouri’s top law enforcement officer, Bailey repeatedly waded into fights over diversity, gender, abortion and other hot-button issues, while casting conservatives and Christians as under siege by the “woke” left.

Bailey had pledged at the start of his tenure in early 2023 not to use the state’s open public records law “as an offensive tool” to demand bulk records from school districts in broad investigations — a tactic used by his predecessor, Eric Schmitt, now a U.S. senator. Still, he made frequent use of cease-and-desist letters, warning school districts that their diversity initiatives or handling of gender and sex-education issues violated the law.

Some efforts, like his letter to the Hazelwood School District, amounted to little more than a press release. Others ended in defeat, with judges calling his arguments unpersuasive or “absurd” or, in one case, dismissing them without comment. One lawsuit, against China, ended in a judgment against the country that experts said will likely never be enforced.

Bailey, who was sworn in to the FBI position on Sept. 15, did not respond to messages left with the FBI’s press office and with James Lawson, a longtime friend who managed his attorney general campaign and served in various roles on his staff.

Bailey’s actions as attorney general, according to legal observers, stood apart from the office’s core, nonpolitical duties: defending the state against lawsuits and handling felony criminal appeals. That work, by most accounts, continued as usual.

His Republican predecessors, Schmitt and, before him, Josh Hawley, also used the position to advance conservative causes, wage fights against progressive ones and raise their national profiles.

During his stint as attorney general, Hawley — like Schmitt now in the U.S. Senate — delivered a speech in which he claimed the elimination of social stigmas to premarital sex and contraception during the 1960s had degraded the treatment of women and promoted sex trafficking. And he fought to uphold state restrictions that threatened to shut down Planned Parenthood clinics four years before Missouri’s near-total abortion ban took effect after the U.S. Supreme Court overturned Roe v. Wade in June 2022.

Missouri Attorney General Andrew Bailey (Galen Bacharier/Springfield News-Leader/Imagn)

Schmitt was named to succeed Hawley in November 2018. During his four years in office, he defended Christian prayer in public schools and sued several local school districts that had enforced mask requirements during the pandemic.

In 2022, he joined a small group of conservative attorneys general in withdrawing from the National Association of Attorneys General, a bipartisan group that had long coordinated multistate investigations in cases against industries ranging from tobacco to opioids. In a letter posted to the social media platform now known as X, Schmitt joined Texas Attorney General Ken Paxton and Montana Attorney General Austin Knudsen in arguing that NAAG had taken a sharp “leftward shift” and that continued membership was intolerable. Neither Hawley nor Schmitt, through their spokespeople, responded to requests for comment.

Chris Toth, the executive director of NAAG who retired from the organization weeks after the letter became public, said in an interview that the claims in the letter were “completely unsupported by facts.” Republicans, he added, were involved “in every facet of the organization.”

The move reflected a broader shift in how many attorneys general now use their offices — not only to defend their states in court, but to score political points on the national stage. Few have embodied that strategy more than Paxton, who has often been described as focusing on culture war issues as attorney general.

ProPublica and The Texas Tribune have reported how Paxton has transformed the attorney general’s office into an agency that seems less focused on traditional duties like representing other state offices in court to one preoccupied with fighting culture wars. His office has increasingly used the state’s powerful consumer protection laws to investigate organizations whose work conflicts with his political views. At the same, he's started increasingly outsourcing major cases to private law firms.

Paxton’s office has said most of the instances when it declined to represent a state agency were due to practical or legal limits — some agencies chose their own attorneys; others were barred by statute. He’s also argued that certain cases would have required reversing earlier positions or advancing claims he viewed as unconstitutional. He’s defended hiring outside law firms, saying his office lacks the resources to take on powerful industries like tech and pharmaceuticals. Paxton did not respond to a request for comment.

Bailey, though far less prominent nationally, fit squarely within this mold. Before leaving for the FBI, he spoke openly about protecting Missourians from what he called “woke” ideology and lawlessness from the left.

A former U.S. Army officer, he has often framed his mission in combat terms. In a podcast interview this year, he said that while conservative states generally try to limit the power of their attorneys general to “maximize freedom,” blue states have weaponized their offices.

“I mean, Letitia James in New York has every weapon in her arsenal that her general assembly can give her,” he said in the podcast interview. He said she uses them “to mess with people’s lives, to prosecute President Trump, take him to court in civil law to try to seize his assets and undervalue those assets.”

“Missouri is uniquely positioned because we were so recently a blue state,” he said, “so it’s like a retreating army has left the battlefield and dropped their weapons and we’re picking them up and learning how to use them against them.”

A spokesperson for James’ office said that “any weaponization of the justice system should disturb every American” and that it stood behind its litigation against Trump’s business and would continue to stand up for New Yorkers’ rights.

Bailey said in the podcast interview that he supported all efforts to investigate President Joe Biden, his family and his administration, and to uncover what Bailey called the truth behind the COVID-19 vaccine, which he said “seems to not be a vaccine at all.”

Bailey used his office to investigate the nonprofit media watchdog Media Matters for America after it reported that corporate ads were appearing next to extremist content on the social media platform X.

Stephen Miller, a top aide to Trump in his first administration, posted that conservative state attorneys general should investigate; Bailey quickly responded that his team was “looking into the matter.” Weeks later, he issued a “notice of pending investigation” to Media Matters and ordered it to preserve records. He later accused the group of using fraud to solicit donations from Missourians to bully advertisers out of pulling out of X, and demanded internal records and donor information under Missouri’s consumer protection law. In a June 2024 interview with Donald Trump Jr., Bailey described the probe as “a new front in the war against the First Amendment” and tied it directly to the 2024 election, accusing Media Matters of trying to silence conservative voices.

Media Matters sued and a federal judge blocked the investigation as likely retaliatory. In early 2025, Bailey dropped the case in a settlement and said he had not found evidence of financial or other misconduct by Media Matters. The organization did not respond to a request for comment.

When Trump was awaiting sentencing after being convicted in a New York court of falsifying business records to conceal hush money payments to a porn star, Bailey asked the U.S. Supreme Court to lift a gag order on the former president and delay his sentencing until after the 2024 election, arguing the restrictions kept Missouri voters from hearing Trump’s message. The Supreme Court rejected his request in an unsigned one-page order without explanation. A New York judge later postponed the sentencing until after the election, writing that he wanted to avoid the appearance, however unwarranted, of political influence.

Trump could have faced up to four years in prison, but a judge issued an unconditional discharge, leaving his conviction in place but sparing him any penalty or fine. Trump said the conviction was a “very terrible experience” and an embarrassment to New York. He is appealing.

Bailey also fought to keep a woman in prison even after a state court judge declared her innocent. Even after the state Supreme Court ordered her release, Bailey’s office told the prison warden to ignore the court’s order. A state court overseeing the case scolded Bailey’s office in a hearing, saying, “I would suggest you never do that.”

Legal experts and other observers of the office said state attorneys general traditionally didn’t act primarily as partisan warriors. Most were focused on defending the state in court and protecting consumers.

Scott Holste, who served as a spokesperson for Jay Nixon, a moderate Democrat who served as the Missouri attorney general from 1993 to 2009, recalls a starkly different approach from Bailey’s. For example, in late September 2008, the top headlines on Nixon’s website focused on robocall rules, lawsuits over mortgage fraud and consumer tips for students.

“We were stridently apolitical in our news releases and in the way we operated,” Holste said. “Our job was to serve all Missourians, not to make political points.”

In the days before the August 2024 Republican primary, two of the three stories featured on Bailey’s homepage targeted the Biden administration over immigration and protections for LGBTQ+ students. The third highlighted a consumer-fraud prosecution.

To his supporters, Bailey is fulfilling campaign promises — a conservative acting like a conservative, said state Rep. Brian Seitz, a Republican from Branson.

Voters see a leader defending their freedoms by fighting policies such as diversity and equity, which they often equate with racism, and mask mandates, which they view as government overreach, Seitz said. “And,” he added, “we have a populist president who appreciates that.”

Toth, the retired head of the national AGs association, traced the shift in how state attorneys general act to the 1998 multistate settlement with the tobacco industry, when nearly every state joined a landmark deal that required cigarette makers to pay more than $200 billion, curb advertising aimed at children and fund anti-smoking campaigns. It also showed attorneys general how much power they could wield.

Over time, the newfound power has raised the profile of attorney general offices across the country, turning them into a springboard for higher office. That higher profile has fueled politicization.

Democratic attorneys general are no strangers to using their offices to fight political battles. California Attorney General Rob Bonta, for example, has filed numerous lawsuits challenging policies of the Trump administration on immigration, environmental regulations and federal funding. While Bonta maintained these suits were based on the law, critics characterized the coordinated legal action as politically motivated resistance.

Dan Ponder, a political science professor at Drury University in Springfield, Missouri, said that as the state has shifted to the right, the GOP primary, rather than the general election, is now the real contest for statewide office.

He pointed to actions such as Schmitt opposing critical race theory and reviewing public school textbooks. “That would have been unheard of 20 years ago,” Ponder said, “but now you can’t lose because you’re fighting the quote-unquote good fight.”

Peverill Squire, a political science professor at the University of Missouri, said that from the time of Bailey’s appointment to the position in January 2023, he probably had only two audiences. The first were voters he needed to defeat Will Scharf, a candidate already in Trump’s orbit, in the 2024 Republican primary for attorney general.

“And then once he secured his election, then I think his audience was really Trump,” Squire said.

Former Missouri Republican Party Chair John Hancock said voters seemed to reward Bailey’s approach. Bailey got nearly as many votes as Trump and Gov. Mike Kehoe in the 2024 general election — and more than Hawley or any of the Republicans who won the offices of lieutenant governor, treasurer or secretary of state.

“So obviously the work he was doing in that office was supported,” Hancock said. “I don’t take terrible shock when politicians do political things.”

Kehoe has appointed Catherine Hanaway, a former Missouri House speaker and U.S. attorney, to succeed Bailey as attorney general. Hanaway has said she intends to run the office in a different style. She told the Missouri Independent she had more interest in Medicaid fraud, consumer protection and violent crimes.

Her office said she was not available for an interview with ProPublica.

by Jeremy Kohler

For-Profit Corporations Are Buying Up More Psychiatric Hospitals. Some Flout Federal Law With Scarce Repercussions.

1 week 2 days ago

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As the share of U.S. adults receiving mental health care treatment steadily grows, for-profit companies are playing an increasingly important role.

More than 40% of inpatient mental health beds were operated by for-profit entities as of 2021, according to unpublished data from Morgan Shields, an assistant professor at Washington University in St. Louis who studies quality in behavioral health care. That’s up from about 13% in 2010. (The number of mental health beds held relatively constant during that time.)

Experts tie this growth to provisions of the Affordable Care Act, which made mental health care an essential health benefit that all insurance plans are required to cover.

Before the law, millions of Americans lacked meaningful mental health care coverage by their insurers — if they had any coverage at all. That changed with the law’s passage in 2010. Three years later, the Obama administration went further, issuing rules that require plans to pay more for mental health care, and to pay for it as long as patients need it. (Some plans had previously imposed hard caps on the number of days they would cover.)

Wider access to and increased reimbursement of mental health services piqued the interest of for-profit corporations, said Eileen O’Grady, who until recently served as program director at the Private Equity Stakeholder Project, a nonprofit organization that researches the industry.

“Investors in for-profit entities see that as an opportunity to make money,” she said, “in a space that had not historically been seen as super profitable.”

Shields and other researchers have repeatedly flagged concerns about lower quality of care at mental health facilities owned by for-profit corporations, in part due to efforts to cut staff and reduce costs. Companies have defended the quality of care they provide.

ProPublica reported Monday that over 90 psychiatric hospitals across the country have violated the Emergency Medical Treatment and Labor Act in the past 15 years. The vast majority of them — around 80% — are owned by for-profit corporations.

Yet only a handful have faced any consequences from either the U.S. Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services or the inspector general of the Department of Health and Human Services, both of which are responsible for regulating the law. In the rare cases when hospitals have faced fines, the penalties have been trivial compared to the earnings of each for-profit hospital chain, the investigation found.

According to ProPublica’s analysis of CMS data, about half of all the hospitals cited were owned by just two corporations — Universal Health Services and Acadia Healthcare — which together operate hundreds of inpatient and outpatient behavioral health facilities, in addition to psychiatric hospitals. (UHS made nearly $16 billion in revenue last year, and Acadia collected more than $3 billion.)

From 2010 through the second quarter of this year, 34 of UHS’ psychiatric hospitals had been cited with EMTALA violations. Two, Brentwood Behavioral Healthcare of Mississippi and Three Rivers Behavioral Health in South Carolina, settled with the HHS inspector general for a total of $375,000.

In its May 9 enforcement action against Brentwood, the inspector general of HHS found that, in June 2021, the hospital’s interim CEO directed staff to refuse to accept seven patients from other facilities under the pretense that the facility “did not have the capacity” to treat them. “In each instance, however, Brentwood had the capacity,” an inspector general press release accompanying the enforcement action said, “but refused the transfer because the individual needing treatment was uninsured.”

UHS spokesperson Jane Crawford said the company has 134 facilities that are subject to EMTALA. “While there have been isolated citations associated with technical EMTALA compliance over the 15-year time period in question at some of our facilities, over 75% of UHS Behavioral Health (BH) facilities did not have any EMTALA citations during this time period,” Crawford said. “As such, the narrative or belief that UHS’ facilities as a whole do not comply with EMTALA or attempts to circumvent its requirements is inaccurate and incorrect.”

In a separate statement, she said the company’s psychiatric hospitals “do not select patients based upon insurance status or ability to pay. All UHS facilities are committed to complying with their EMTALA obligations as applicable and provide the requisite care and treatment to all patients who present to the facility regardless of ability to pay.”

As for what happened at Brentwood, Crawford said that the hospital “inadvertently violated rules and regulations” due to “poor internal communication and process failure in a one-month period of time.” Brentwood “promptly revised its practices to address any such future concerns and has not had any EMTALA related issues since that time,” she added.

On the events at Three Rivers, Crawford said that of the 11 patients that CMS said it denied to accept for transfer, citations related to 10 of them were ultimately “rescinded as it was determined that EMTALA did not apply to those patients.” She added that “at no time did Three Rivers fail to respond or accept a fax request based upon any prospective patient’s insurance status or ability to pay.” CMS did not respond to requests to clarify whether the citations were rescinded, but they remain on its website.

Inspectors have cited 12 Acadia hospitals for EMTALA violations since 2010. However, only one — Park Royal Hospital in Florida — has been fined by the inspector general; in 2019, the agency fined the hospital just over $52,000.

“Our goal is always to provide the best quality care to anyone seeking treatment at one of our facilities, and we take our compliance obligations very seriously,” Acadia spokesperson Tim Blair said in an email. He did not respond to subsequent questions about quality of care at Park Royal.

Dr. Jane Zhu, an associate professor of medicine at Oregon Health and Science University, said decisions made by for-profit psychiatric hospitals may be driven by financial interests. Denying care to patients without insurance or with lower-paying forms of insurance can help increase profits, Zhu said.

Those same financial incentives may drive for-profit hospitals to turn away more complicated patients — such as those who are aggressive or violent while in the throes of a mental health crisis, Zhu added. In these situations, hospitals can save on staffing and other costs if they admit healthier patients and avoid patients with the most severe psychiatric needs — a tactic she called “cream-skimming.”

Both CMS and the HHS inspector general declined to comment on why psychiatric hospitals owned by for-profit corporations have so infrequently faced consequences for EMTALA violations.

Federal law caps the amount that the HHS inspector general can fine for EMTALA violations, an agency spokesperson said. In 2024, that amount was about $66,000 per violation for hospitals with fewer than 100 beds, and $133,000 per violation for hospitals with more than 100 beds. (The figure increases annually for inflation.)

Since 2010, in four of the five cases in which the agency settled with psychiatric hospitals for EMTALA violations, the amounts were well below the maximum allowable. The inspector general’s office declined to comment why.

Former staffers from both CMS and the inspector general’s office said that the lack of consequences for EMTALA violations may be emboldening hospitals to turn away patients that could hurt their bottom line.

“There are a lot of CEOs who will take that risk — they say, ‘Yeah, we know we dumped that patient,’ or, ‘They’re not going to fine us anyhow,’” said a former CMS official focused on EMTALA who spoke on the condition of anonymity because of ongoing work in the industry.

And even in the cases when facilities do face fines, the sums have been minimal compared to chains’ bottom lines.

“Hospitals may see those small-dollar figures as just the cost of doing business,” said a former senior official in the HHS inspector general’s office who spoke on the condition of anonymity for fear of affecting future job opportunities. “They weren’t seen as a particular deterrent.”

U.S. Rep. Frank Pallone Jr., D-N.J., ranking member of the House Energy and Commerce Committee, said ProPublica’s findings are cause for concern.

“In the face of a large mental health crisis, we should be doing more, not less, to ensure people have access to the care and treatment they need,” he said in a statement.

“Medicate Him and Ship Him Out”

Perimeter Healthcare is one such company whose growth came years after passage of the ACA. In September 2016, Perimeter — backed by $8 billion private equity firm Ridgemont Equity Partners — acquired another company and, with it, five residential treatment facilities and three psychiatric hospitals.

By May 2019, Perimeter acquired its six and seventh hospitals. The hospitals’ former parent company, SAS Healthcare, was indicted months earlier for violating the Texas mental health code. It later pleaded guilty to one count and paid a $200,000 fine; the county dropped the other charges.

The hospitals in Dallas and Arlington aimed to “serve as the gold standard for inpatient psychiatric care,” Rod Laughlin, Perimeter’s founder, said in a press release announcing the acquisition.

But within years of Perimeter taking over, the Dallas hospital again was in the spotlight.

In August 2023, CMS found that Perimeter Behavioral Hospital of Dallas violated EMTALA in four ways when staff refused to examine a patient who had tried to kill himself. (“If that is the patient I am thinking of, he can’t be here,” a hospital staff member told a police officer at the time, according to CMS records. “All we can do is medicate him and ship him out.”) Under the law, hospitals are required to screen and stabilize all emergency patients before discharging them.

And less than a year later, at the same hospital, staff pushed for another patient to be transferred elsewhere after he started flipping chairs.

That led to a standoff between staff and police as the patient slammed against the walls, trying to escape.

“Legally we can’t touch him because he is not our patient,” a hospital staff member told an officer during the exchange, according to CMS records.

With that, the officer called another officer, who asked hospital staff if there was “a particular reason” they were refusing to admit the patient.

“This individual here is beyond our ability to treat” due to his “extreme aggression,” a staff member responded. “We can’t manage him.”

“Under EMTALA since he is on your grounds EMTALA says you guys are responsible — so we are having a disagreement here,” the second officer responded. “I guess,” the officer added, “my next call is to CMS.”

“It is not even necessary to call CMS,” the hospital staff member said, “but feel free to do that.”

Eventually, CMS was called. And some two weeks after the incident, the agency found that the hospital had violated EMTALA in three ways, including failing to provide even the most basic care through a medical examination of the patient — beyond just eyeballing him.

When hospitals breach the law, they are required to send plans to CMS detailing how they will avoid violating EMTALA in the future. Plans of correction filed by Perimeter Behavioral Hospital of Dallas said the hospital would revise some of its materials, including training slides, a test, a self-attestation form used in staff training and a medical screening form for patients. Officials also said they would monitor compliance with the law by reviewing patient logs daily. But the hospital also noted multiple instances in which officials believed “no changes were needed” to its policies.

Beyond responding to CMS with these plans, the hospital did not face consequences from the agency, or from the HHS inspector general for either set of findings. The agencies have not responded to questions about the lack of follow-up in the Perimeter Dallas cases.

Perimeter Healthcare and Ridgemont Equity Partners did not respond to requests for comment.

Lately, lawmakers and regulators have expressed particular alarm about health facilities owned by private-equity companies — like Ridgemont Equity Partners — which typically take control of a business for a relatively short time, restructure it, and resell it at a profit.

Data on for-profit health facilities, in general, shows worse results for both hospitals and nursing homes after they are acquired by private equity firms. A January report by HHS, before the end of the Biden administration, attributed quality differences in part to private-equity firms’ tendency to “dramatically reduce the operational costs” of health care facilities.

Recent research demonstrates that private equity is playing an increasing role in psychiatric hospitals, and that has some federal officials worried. In January, the Senate Budget Committee released a bipartisan congressional staff report investigating private equity’s growing presence in health care.

Officials from the Healthcare Private Equity Association, the trade group that represents medical facilities owned by over 100 investment firms, did not respond to requests for comment.

“Instead of helping families, billionaire corporations are denying sick patients legally protected emergency care to turn healthy profits,” Sen. Jeff Merkley, D-Ore., ranking member of the Senate Budget Committee, said in a statement to ProPublica.

“This unchecked corporate greed is leading to worse outcomes for patients,” Merkley added, “particularly those who struggle with mental health crises.”

This reporting was supported by the McGraw Center for Business Journalism at CUNY’s Newmark Graduate School of Journalism, the Fund for Investigative Journalism and the National Institute for Health Care Management Foundation.

by Eli Cahan for ProPublica

Psychiatric Hospitals Turn Away Patients Who Need Urgent Care. The Facilities Face Few Consequences.

1 week 3 days ago

This article describes attempted suicide.

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Late one Saturday night in May 2023, Melissa Keele’s phone rang. Her son had been found alone in the desert of Colorado’s Grand Valley. He was naked; his clothes, phone, keys and car were nowhere to be found.

Keele rushed out to her own vehicle and floored it, her headlights piercing through the pitch black. For years, her son had been dealing with severe mental illness. At the peak of the COVID-19 pandemic, he hit a breaking point and attempted suicide by driving off a cliff on the highway. “God told him he needed to die,” Keele recalled him telling her.

Eventually, she picked him up — and he didn’t look good. Fearing for his safety, Keele immediately took her then-21-year-old son to West Springs Hospital in Grand Junction.

If you or someone you know needs help, here are a few resources:

The facility, which called itself “Colorado’s Best Psychiatric Hospital,” touted “exceptional psychiatric care in a world-class environment,” including a “state-of-the-art” 63,000-square-foot facility decked out with crafts areas, light therapy rooms and “cozy nooks.”

During the intake process, Keele said she told a nurse about her son’s yearslong battle with mental illness, how he had struggled to keep up with his treatments, hold down a job and keep a roof over his head. How he had stopped taking his psychiatric medications. How just before he left that night he had told his fiancee that he wanted “some alone time” in the valley’s rolling hills.

But 102 minutes after he arrived at West Springs, a nurse discharged him.

Back at home, he slipped out a few hours later while his fiancee was at work. Police found him and quickly called his mother. He again was naked; this time, he was also sunburned and dehydrated. He couldn’t explain what had happened, and he didn’t understand why he was there. Police took him to another emergency room, which deemed him “gravely disabled.”

That determination was critical. It meant that the doctors believed sending Keele’s son home could put him in imminent danger. And it meant, legally, that they could keep him against his will until he was safe. Ultimately, he was transferred to a psychiatric hospital 240 miles east in Denver, where he stayed for more than a week.

The speed with which West Springs released him prompted federal officials to investigate the hospital for failing to properly screen and stabilize him before his discharge. Within days, regulators determined the hospital had violated federal law.

The hospital had failed to comply with the Emergency Medical Treatment and Labor Act, better known as EMTALA. The law, enacted in 1986, requires hospitals to screen and stabilize all emergency patients regardless of whether they have insurance. West Springs, the inspectors found, had missed key red flags related to Keele’s son’s grave disability, which could have left him seriously harmed.

It was the second time in a year that West Springs had violated EMTALA. In October 2022, inspectors declared that patients were in “immediate jeopardy” of harm or death because the hospital had failed to properly screen and treat 21 patients who showed up to its emergency room.

Two other times, it was cited for providing deficient emergency care in violation of other rules, according to federal regulators. Just one day after the October 2022 inspection report, regulators found that the hospital did not ensure that some low-level staff were “trained” or “qualified” to monitor patients being assessed for a crisis. And in February 2023, the hospital was hit with another violation for discharging suicidal patients without “evidence of being stabilized and deemed safe.”

In each instance, the Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services, the agency primarily responsible for enforcing EMTALA, asked West Springs to come up with a plan for how it would ensure the problems didn’t happen again. (ProPublica requested the plans of correction in May 2025 from CMS but has not yet received the records.) CMS could have terminated the hospital’s Medicare funding. Another arm of the federal government, the inspector general of the Department of Health and Human Services, could have imposed monetary penalties for the EMTALA violations.

But neither of those things happened, though the state of Colorado increased its own oversight of the hospital, mandating that it hire an outside management company in order to keep treating patients.

First image: A road near where Melissa Keele’s son attempted suicide during the peak of the COVID-19 pandemic. Second image: West Springs Hospital in Grand Junction, Colorado, violated a federal law guaranteeing emergency treatment on two separate occasions in one year. (Rachel Woolf for ProPublica)

West Springs Hospital did not respond to repeated inquiries from ProPublica over a year of reporting about what actions it took to prevent future EMTALA violations. In public statements, it said it was committed to providing quality care and subsequently noted that the state restored its full unconditional license at the end of 2024. Keele’s son did not respond to multiple requests for comment and we are not publishing his name; this account is based on documents and interviews with his mother.

Over 90 psychiatric hospitals across the country have violated EMTALA in the past 15 years and almost all have faced the same lack of consequences, a ProPublica investigation has found.

Since 2019, the HHS inspector general has only issued three penalties involving EMTALA violations by psychiatric hospitals. Taken together, these penalties totalled $427,000. (The inspector general has levied additional fines against medical hospitals for inadequate care of patients with mental illness.)

CMS has pulled Medicare certification, and funding, from a handful of psychiatric hospitals, and a number of others have shut down after officials threatened to stop paying. But those cases have been the exception.

“Facilities are not facing consequences for providing poor quality of care,” said Morgan Shields, an assistant professor at Washington University in St. Louis who studies the quality of care that behavioral health patients receive.

“The market isn’t punishing them and regulators are not punishing them,” Shields added. “That’s an excellent environment to make money.”

The HHS inspector general declined to comment.

For its part, CMS said that West Springs “was given the opportunity to correct their deficiencies” and subsequently “was able to demonstrate compliance.” (CMS has an online portal to report suspected EMTALA violations.)

The widespread violations of EMTALA by psychiatric hospitals — and the lack of enforcement — come even as America’s mental health crisis is reaching a fever pitch, with suicide rates near record highs.

Democrats in Congress say they are concerned that budget cuts under the Trump administration may impair oversight further. In March, the administration’s Department of Government Efficiency announced that it was shuttering half of HHS’ 10 regional offices and purging 25% of the agency’s staff.

In recent months, Rep. Lloyd Doggett, a Texas Democrat, and other members of the House and Senate have requested details on how cuts made by President Donald Trump may impact the core functions of HHS, such as ensuring compliance with regulations like EMTALA.

“The abrupt firing of so many dedicated public servants weakens the ability of the Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services (CMS) to conduct important oversight and enforcement work,” Doggett said in a statement responding to inquiries from ProPublica, meaning that “those who violate EMTALA and other federal health and safety laws will be able to continue avoiding accountability.”

As of yet, those requests for information have gone unanswered. “CMS will continue to enforce EMTALA,” an agency spokesperson said in response to inquiries from ProPublica. The White House did not respond to requests for comment about the impact of the DOGE cuts.

Numerous Psychiatric Hospitals Have Repeatedly Violated Emergency Care Regulations

Psychiatric hospitals that have been cited for violating the Emergency Medical Treatment and Labor Act since 2019.

View the full table on ProPublica's site. “More and More Cracks”

Nearly four decades ago, a group of doctors noticed a pattern among the patients transferred into Chicago’s largest public hospital from private facilities.

Of 467 patients transferred in, 87% were brought to Cook County Hospital “because they lacked adequate medical insurance.” Some 89% of these patients were Black or Hispanic; 81% were unemployed. Almost one-quarter of these patients were medically unstable at time of transfer, and they were more than twice as likely to die as patients who weren’t transferred.

The research, published in the New England Journal of Medicine, described that “strong economic incentives” raised serious questions about for-profit hospitals’ ability to “consider the condition and well being of patients objectively.”

Within months, Congress took action.

In April 1986, President Ronald Reagan signed a law to prevent what became known as “patient dumping.” EMTALA is the only law that requires universal care for “emergency medical conditions” regardless of a person’s insurance status.

In the decades since, authorities have documented thousands of EMTALA violations by hospitals across the country.

In a number of cases, patients died just hours after failing to receive the care to which they were legally entitled.

Patients with mental health conditions have also been regularly denied emergency care, according to federal agencies. Since 2010, CMS has found more than 300 EMTALA violations by psychiatric hospitals specifically.

These include sending home gravely disabled patients like Keele’s son, turning away actively suicidal patients, screening out uninsured patients, and rejecting “frequent flyers,” those who return repeatedly, due to how they’ve interacted with staff in the past — among other issues. That’s despite the fact that, in some of these cases, patients met criteria for imminent risk of harm to themselves or others

“Most Americans take it as a given that they can get emergency health care when they go to a hospital, but that promise, enshrined in EMTALA, is showing more and more cracks,” Sen. Ron Wyden, an Oregon Democrat, said in a statement responding to inquiries from ProPublica.

“I Want Peace Again”

When hospitals release patients experiencing mental health crises prematurely or turn them away entirely, the consequences can be even more severe than what happened to Keele’s son in 2023.

Six years earlier and 1,500 miles to the southeast, Tom Swearengen was discharged from Lakeside Behavioral Health System in Memphis, Tennessee. Less than a week later, a neighbor in their leafy cul-de-sac noticed that “something seemed off” — Swearengen’s blinds had been open, for days, at all hours.

Upon entering the home, the neighbor found Tom’s body — and that of his wife, Margaret — on the living room floor. Margaret had sustained multiple gunshot wounds; Tom had suffered just one, in what police later classifed a murder-suicide.

It was a brutal end to a relationship that, in some ways, had seemed magical at the outset: A conversation kicked off at a Kroger butcher counter had blossomed, and Tom’s easygoing demeanor “put us at ease,” said Bret Boscaccy, Margaret’s son from a previous marriage, “because he seemed harmless.”

That perception changed when, one day, Margaret told Boscaccy and his brother that Tom was “losing his fight with alcoholism.” The news came as a surprise, Boscaccy recalled. “We didn’t see any of it,” he said.

A family photo album shows images from early in Tom Swearengen’s marriage to Margaret. (Andrea Morales for ProPublica)

On Valentine’s Day in 2017 — eight days after Tom cracked a couple ribs, split his right clavicle and bruised his lung amid a spate of drinking — he reached out for help. That’s when he and Margaret found themselves at Lakeside Behavioral.

In the ER that day, Tom’s pain was overwhelming.

“I don’t want to be here,” Tom told the Lakeside Behavioral clinician, according to a government inspection report. “I just wish something would take me. … I want peace again.” At one point in the interview, he said he wanted to hurt himself. At another, Tom described a desire to “die right now.” At a third, he shared that they had guns at home.

Under the “Suicide and Homicide/Violence Risk Factors” section of the assessment, Lakeside Behavioral’s intake clinician noted 10 distinct concerns. Tom also scored three times the threshold for hospitalization based on his recent drinking habits.

But Tom’s insurance wouldn’t cover psychiatric hospitalization, the inspection report said.

So the intake clinician called a psychiatrist, who was home, and got permission to discharge him. She characterized him as “low to no risk” of suicide or homicide. Make an appointment with your old psychiatrist, she told him. And go to Alcoholics Anonymous.

After the murder-suicide, inspectors visited the hospital and determined that the care Swearengen received violated EMTALA: There was no evidence that Lakeside Behavioral helped him in a meaningful way or that he was safe to go home.

Since August 2000, Lakeside has been owned by Universal Health Services, a for-profit corporation that operates hundreds of inpatient and outpatient behavioral health facilities, in addition to psychiatric hospitals, and made $16 billion in revenues last year. In response to inquiries about decisions made by Lakeside staff in Swearengen’s case, Universal Health Services spokesperson Jane Crawford said the company “was not going to get into details” but that it “contested the findings from CMS,” maintaining that Swearengen’s insurance status was reviewed after the medical screening exam was performed and that all EMTALA obligations were satisfied. CMS did not respond to Lakeside’s contention that its report was inaccurate, though the findings remain on the agency’s website.

The hospital did not face financial penalties after the incident and has not violated EMTALA since, according to federal inspection records. Both CMS and the HHS inspector general declined to comment on why no further action was taken against Lakeside.

Lakeside Behavioral Health (Andrea Morales for ProPublica)

About six years ago, in the effort to resolve confusion about the scope of EMTALA, federal regulators sought to make explicit that the law applies to psychiatric hospitals, even if they don’t have ERs.

“The hospital is expected to … address any immediate needs,” the July 2019 guidance from CMS read, and to “keep the patient safe and as stable as possible.”

But since the clarification, violations have continued.

The inspector general declined to comment on why so few enforcement actions have been taken since the clarification, even though CMS has cited 37 psychiatric hospitals for EMTALA violations since then. (Federal watchdogs have long said the law receives only limited enforcement. In a 2001 report, the Government Accountability Office described that “the numbers of EMTALA violations and fines have been relatively small,” and highlighted the need for “effective enforcement.”)

“The law is clear: if you want to accept taxpayer money, you must see any patient who shows up to the emergency room — regardless of their ability to pay,” said Massachusetts Sen. Elizabeth Warren, a Democrat, in a statement to ProPublica. “CMS should investigate these troubling allegations and hold accountable any hospitals that have violated the law.”

Boscaccy still remembers how he learned about his mother’s death. Five days after his stepfather was discharged by Lakeside, two unmarked police cars pulled up at Boscaccy’s home. The detectives knocked and asked if he knew who Margaret Swearengen was.

“As soon as they said that,” Boscaccy said, “I knew something bad happened.”

And when he learned from a reporter years later that Lakeside Behavioral never faced any consequences from the government, Boscaccy was at a loss.

“I’m kind of shocked that nothing happened,” he said. “You would think at least something — some kind of, something, would happen.”

Bret Boscaccy at his home. Boscaccy’s stepfather murdered his mother before killing himself, according to police. (Andrea Morales for ProPublica) “A Totally Different Place”

In December 2023, six months after he was found naked in the desert, Keele’s son hit another rough patch.

During a mental health crisis that brought him to a different emergency room, he became physically aggressive toward staffers. (After their experiences with West Springs the preceding May, Keele and her son had avoided going back.)

In June 2024, her son was arrested on a warrant for assaulting the staff and brought to jail. Since then, he’s been in and out of jail. Then the hospital. Then jail again.

“‘Spiral’ is a great word for it,” Keele said. “All this stuff ripples.”

On May 16, Keele’s son was sentenced on felony charges to three years in community corrections. Keele worries that his tumble into the criminal-legal system has “just kind of compounded” his mental illness — “It’s been a long, frustrating decline,” she said.

After the incident, West Springs experienced a period of instability.

The same month as her son was discharged prematurely, the state of Colorado put West Springs under a conditional license for a series of problematic inspections, according to reporting from the Grand Junction Daily Sentinel. Amid the scrutiny, the hospital’s parent company was required to contract with another health provider to help run it for a year. Then, in November 2024, the company’s board of directors announced a “significant new chapter”: the hospital and the organization that owns it was ceding control to Larkin Health System — a for-profit that owns three hospitals in South Florida. A month later, the state restored the hospital’s full license.

In February, however, West Springs announced that it was closing. The hospital’s parent organization cited low patient volume as one key driver of financial pressures. In March, the hospital officially shut its doors. “It is with a heavy heart that we announce the upcoming closure of West Springs Hospital,” the hospital’s parent organization wrote in a press release. “This decision was not made lightly, and we understand the profound impact it will have on our patients, staff, and community.”

Hospital officials did not respond to multiple inquiries from ProPublica for further details about the decision. Officials from Larkin Health System also declined to comment.

Keele, for her part, wonders how her son’s life might be different had he gotten the care he needed before things turned for the worse.

“I just wish I could have gotten people to work with me when this all started,” she said “We’d be in a totally different place if we had a plan — before it got so out of control.”

Keele had hoped that West Springs, under Larkin, could “turn things around.” Given that suicide rates in the Western Slope of Colorado remain well above those in the rest of the state and the U.S., their community needed to hang on to the only psychiatric facility in the region, she said. The alternative — nothing — would certainly be worse.

Now, with West Springs’ closure, that’s their reality, Keele said. And she isn’t sure what comes next. But she does know one thing.

“For those who need care,” she said, “Denver is pretty far away.”

This reporting was supported by the McGraw Center for Business Journalism at the City University of New York’s Newmark Graduate School of Journalism, the Fund for Investigative Journalism, and the National Institute for Health Care Management Foundation.

by Eli Cahan for ProPublica

Ohio Chaplain Freed From Jail as DHS Drops Deportation Case

1 week 5 days ago

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An Egyptian chaplain whose detention sparked a community uproar and became a test of counterterrorism powers in immigration court was released from an Ohio jail on Friday as the Department of Homeland Security abruptly withdrew its case against him.

The outcome is a victory for 51-year-old Ayman Soliman, a popular Muslim cleric whose hundreds of supporters include families he counseled at Cincinnati Children’s Hospital. The DHS move to restore his asylum status and drop deportation efforts comes after court filings documented errors and inconsistencies in the government’s evidence portraying him as a terrorist.

Just before 1 p.m., Soliman walked out of Butler County Jail with a broad smile and a plastic bag containing his belongings, a moment filmed by his friends and advocates. He had been scheduled for an immigration trial next week and faced deportation to Egypt, which he fled in 2014 because of political persecution.

“This is beyond my dreams,” Soliman told ProPublica in a call minutes after he was freed. “I’m still overwhelmed by the surprise.”

Soliman’s asylum status was reinstated and his application for a green card has been revived, said Robert Ratliff, one of his attorneys. Early Friday, Ratliff had filed documents showing wording discrepancies in what should have been identical asylum termination notices to Soliman. One version called him a “member” of a terrorist group and the other accused him of providing illegal aid to a terrorist group. Soliman has denied both contentions.

The filing on Friday documented the latest in a series of inconsistencies in the government’s evidence, which ProPublica reported this month.

“From the beginning, everything was flawed,” Ratliff said. “This is certainly a victory for him, and it’s huge. Unfortunately, he had to spend approximately 70 days in jail to get to this point.”

A DHS official said immigration authorities “cannot discuss the details of individual immigration cases and adjudication decisions.” But the official added, “An alien — even with a pending application or lawful status — is not shielded from immigration enforcement action.” The agency is “responsible for administering America’s lawful immigration system, ensuring the integrity of the immigration process.”

After leaving the jail, Soliman joined Friday communal prayers at a local mosque, where an imam welcomed his release as a godsend and celebrated his friend as “a free man, as he always should be.”

Flanked by supporters at a news conference Friday evening, Soliman said he was still in disbelief that his day had begun in custody. He’d just come from a restaurant where he enjoyed “salad and fruit and meat” after weeks of jail food. He said he was “out of words” for the support system that sprang to his defense. He said he received 760 letters while in jail from people he’d never met.

“I’m free today because of this advocacy,” Soliman said. “Don’t underestimate your voice.”

Ayman Soliman Is Free Soliman is greeted as he exits Butler County Jail in Ohio. (Courtesy of Ahmed Elkady)

Watch video ➜

Soliman’s ordeal, which spanned two administrations, is more complex than most targets of President Donald Trump’s immigration crackdown.

After fleeing persecution over his journalistic and protest activities in Egypt, Soliman had been granted asylum in 2018 under the first Trump administration. Then, in the last month of the presidency of Joe Biden, immigration authorities moved to revoke the status based on sharply disputed claims of fraud and aid to a terrorist group. Once Trump returned to office weeks later, court records show, immigration officials bumped up the terrorism claims and formalized the asylum termination on June 3.

DHS had built the case on allegations that Soliman’s involvement with an Islamic charity provided illegal aid, or “material support,” to the Muslim Brotherhood. But neither the charity nor the Brotherhood is a U.S.-designated terrorist organization, and an Egyptian court found no official ties between the groups.

Material support laws ban almost any type of aid to U.S.-designated foreign terrorist groups. Prosecutors describe the laws as an invaluable tool against would-be attackers, but civil liberties groups have long complained of overreach.

The Biden-era DHS, which first flagged the charity issue, said it would revoke Soliman’s asylum if “a preponderance of the evidence supports termination” after a hearing, according to the December 2024 notice. At the time, court records show, the material support allegation was listed as a secondary concern after more common asylum questions about the veracity of official documents and Soliman’s claims of persecution in Egypt.

Once Trump came to power weeks later, Soliman’s attorneys said, the material support claims metastasized, with U.S. authorities declaring the Muslim Brotherhood a Tier III, or undesignated, terrorist group and adding new arguments about ties to Hamas. The Brotherhood, a nearly century-old Islamist political movement, renounced violence in the 1970s, though Hamas and other spinoffs are on the U.S. blacklist.

Court filings show DHS attorneys introducing, then withdrawing or amending, materials to build a case linking Soliman to the Brotherhood through the charity. Almost immediately, the evidence began unraveling.

Among the supporting documents filed by the government were three academic reports by scholars with deep knowledge of Islamic charities in Egypt. Soliman’s legal team filed statements from all three balking at how DHS had cherry-picked their research. The scholars described “important mistakes of fact and interpretation,” “a mischaracterization” and “a dishonest manipulation of my text.”

Separate from U.S. attempts to tie Soliman to the Brotherhood was a puzzling footnote in which DHS attorneys alluded to warrants for “murder and terrorism” in Iraq, a country Soliman has never visited. DHS acknowledged in court that the line had been an error — after it had been included in the government’s successful argument for keeping him in custody.

Legal scholars specializing in national security were monitoring the case as a gauge of how much power the Trump administration could wield at the intersection of counterterrorism and immigration.

Ratliff said that the win was important but that he didn’t think the outcome would deter DHS from invoking similar arguments in other immigration cases, especially involving cartels, which the Trump administration designated as terrorist organizations, unlocking material support powers.

“The connections in this case were always going to be too tenuous to withstand scrutiny,” Ratliff said. “I think, though, that this format is still the format we’re going to see DHS take.”

Soliman’s supporters — from religious leaders to university students to parents he met at the hospital — welcomed his release.

“I know tomorrow he’ll get right back to the work he does, of caring for his community,” said Lynn Tramonte, executive director of the Ohio Immigrant Alliance, one of the advocacy groups that pushed for his release.

by Hannah Allam