Aggregator

The Cardinals’ home opener is set for 3:15 p.m. Thursday against the Twins. Tickets, some as low as $68, are still available.

ST. LOUIS - The FOX 2 team is at Busch Stadium and Ballpark Village to explore various elements of the St. Louis Cardinals' 2025 Opening Day against the Minnesota Twins. Visit FOX 2’s YouTube channel to check out all of the locations the crew visits as they prepare for the 2025 season to commence.

The Susan M. Clay home once stood on land that is now Calvary Cemetery.

The U.S. Department of Agriculture’s organic label is supposed to give consumers confidence that their food was grown without pesticides, and with care for the animals. But high certification costs have some smaller farmers looking for alternatives. Harshawn Ratanpal reports on one label that's trying to establish itself as an alternative.

Sen. Stephen Webber said during floor debate that ‘powerful people’ are protecting the accused but he could not reveal the name because of a promise to victims.

by Kyle Hopkins, Anchorage Daily News

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

Alaska’s Supreme Court has placed new limits on how long criminal cases can be postponed, part of an effort to reduce the time many criminal defendants wait to face trial in the state.

The court’s order, which takes effect May 12, directs state judges to allow no more than 270 days of new delays for criminal cases filed in 2022 or before. Court system data shows that about 800 active cases fall into that category, making each one more than 800 days old and counting.

The move to reduce delays follows an investigation by ProPublica and the Anchorage Daily News that found some cases have taken as long as a decade to reach juries, potentially violating the rights of victims and defendants alike.

The time to resolve Alaska’s most serious felony cases, such as murder and sexual assault, has nearly tripled over the past decade. Victims rights advocates had long complained that judges rubber-stamped delays, particularly in Anchorage, where about half of the cases impacted by the Supreme Court order are pending. Some cases dragged on so long that victims or witnesses had died in the meantime.

In addition to capping the duration of delays, the state Supreme Court’s order says judges must explain why they’ve allowed any request for delay.

“It’s a positive step by the court to be able to work with the lawyers to move cases along,” said state Sen. Matt Claman, D-Anchorage, chair of the Judiciary Committee, which held a hearing on pretrial delays in February.

Alaska Court System spokesperson Rebecca Koford said the new Supreme Court order, issued on March 12, tackles the “most pressing concern.”

The time needed to close out the oldest cases “is exceedingly long,” she said, “and we need to get them resolved.”

The Supreme Court order said judges in pre-2023 cases are to allow only 90 days of new delays at the request of the defense, 90 days for prosecutors and 90 days for “other periods of delay for good cause.”

Koford said that an example of why a case might be delayed for good cause would be when a witness is temporarily unavailable to testify. Additional efforts are in the works to reduce the time it takes cases to get to trial, she said.

“We do not view it as the solution; it is part of the solution,” Koford said.

Alaska criminal rules grant defendants the right to a trial within 120 days of being charged with a crime. Crime victims have the right to the “timely disposition” of their case under the state constitution.

The 120-day deadline is rarely met. One sexual assault case highlighted by the Daily News and ProPublica was filed in 2014 and has been delayed more than 70 times. That case has now been set for trial on April 1.

Several high-ranking state officials have spoken of the need to rein in delays since the news organizations highlighted the issue in January.

Chief Justice Susan M. Carney told state lawmakers on Feb. 12 that the court system was working to curb delays, noting recent news coverage of the issue. The Senate Judiciary Committee held a hearing focused on pretrial delays later that month, when court system General Counsel Nancy Meade told legislators that the cases recently highlighted in news stories were unacceptable but were outliers among criminal cases.

“The time it takes to resolve cases now is certainly longer than it was 20 years ago. Nobody is happy about that,” Meade testified.

The new order signed by Carney and other Alaska Supreme Court justices said that a 2023 judicial order had led to “some decrease” in what the court characterized as “persistent backlogs.” The current order, the court said, “is intended to facilitate the further reduction in the time to disposition of these older criminal cases without undue delay.”

The order also addresses delays caused when attorneys fail to provide evidence to the opposing party in a timely manner. It says that judges should consider sanctions, including dismissing the charges, when prosecutors fail to provide evidence or banning the missing evidence from being used at trial.

We've finally made it to Opening Day in St. Louis! And we're just hours away from a new St. Louis Cardinals season.

ST. LOUIS - Police are investigating after a man was left dead and another injured following a stabbing in north St. Louis Wednesday night. According to the St. Louis Metropolitan Police Department (SLMPD), the stabbings happened around 8:30 p.m. on the 5100 block of Maple Avenue in north St. Louis' Academy/Sherman Park neighborhood. SLMPD is [...]

Accusations that a sexual predator is working in the Missouri Capitol Building with protection from “powerful people” abruptly ended state Senate debate Wednesday on a bill adding physician assistants and emergency medical personnel to medical providers covered by a peer review process. The Senate had just defeated an amendment to the bill offered by state […]

A jury awards $48.1 million to a Pacific family. It marks the largest medical malpractice verdict in Missouri history, firm says.

Police are investigating after a person was fatally struck by a vehicle at the intersection of South Broadway and Horn Avenue in south St. Louis County, and an ambulance was seen leaving the scene.

ST. LOUIS - Baseball is back! It is going to rain on this Cardinals Opening Day Thursday, but it won’t be raining ALL day. There will be a lot of dry time Thursday, and many festivities (and of course plans at home, work, or school) will be unaffected. But there will be pockets of rain [...]

After 47 years at 4412 Jamieson Ave., Mom's Deli closed on Feb. 23 after its lease wasn't renewed.

The history of Atlantic Records, home to such artists as Led Zeppelin, The Rolling Stones, Stevie Nicks and Aretha Franklin, is being celebrated in a new book.75 Years of Atlantic Records,…

Source

by Molly Parker, Capitol News Illinois

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

CARBONDALE, Ill. — I grew up off a gravel road near a town of 60 people, a place where cows outnumber people.

Southern Illinois University, just 40 miles north, opened up my world. I saw my first concerts here, debated big ideas in giant lecture halls and shared dorms with people who looked like no one I’d ever met. Two of my most influential professors came from opposite ends of the political spectrum.

SIU was the only four-year college within reach when I enrolled here in the fall of 2000 — both in miles and cost. And it set me on the path to who I would become. That’s why I accepted a job here teaching journalism two years ago. It is still a place of opportunity, but I was struck by how fragile it had become — a fraction of its former size, grappling with relentless enrollment and budget concerns.

Now, it faces new threats. The Trump administration has proposed cuts to research and labs across the country; targeted certain schools with diversity, equity and inclusion programs; and signed an executive order to eliminate the U.S. Department of Education, which manages student loans. State officials estimate that proposed funding reductions from the National Institutes of Health alone would cost SIU about $4.5 million.

In addition, conservative activists are on the lookout for what they deem “woke” depravity at universities. This is true at SIU as well, where students received emails from at least one conservative group offering to pay them to act as informants or write articles to help “expose the liberal bias that occurs on college campuses across the nation.”

Schools like SIU, located in a region that overwhelmingly voted for President Donald Trump, may not be the primary targets of his threatened funding cuts, but they — along with the communities they serve — stand to lose the most.

There are nearly 500 regional public universities across the U.S., serving around 5 million students — about half of all undergraduates enrolled in public universities, according to the Alliance for Research on Regional Colleges at Appalachian State University. These institutions of higher learning span nearly every state, with many rooted in rural areas and communities facing high unemployment, childhood poverty and limited access to medical care. They play a vital role in lifting up struggling individuals — and in some cases, entire communities that could very easily die out without them.

While Trump’s actions have primarily targeted high-profile institutions like Columbia University and the University of Pennsylvania, some regional schools are also under investigation for alleged racial discrimination tied to DEI programs. (So far, SIU hasn’t been named in any federal probes.)

“This is definitely one of those baby-in-the-bathwater moments,” said Cecilia Orphan, an associate professor of higher education at the University of Denver, who is a lead researcher with the regional colleges alliance. While the administration has “a bone to pick with a particular type of institution,” she said, “there are all these other institutions that serve your community, your constituents.”

Students walk across the campus of SIU in Carbondale. Long challenged by declining enrollment and budget woes, SIU now faces the threat of deeper federal cuts. (Julia Rendleman for ProPublica)

Regional schools like SIU tend to operate with fewer resources than their counterparts, relying on federal and state money to support both the students and the school. Greater shares of students rely on need-based federal financial aid like Pell Grants, low-cost student loans and subsidized student work programs.

And in terms of research, while attention goes to large, elite schools, hundreds of the schools spending at least $2.5 million on scientific studies — the threshold for qualifying as a research school — are regional public universities. SIU pumps $60 million annually into research. About a quarter of that money comes from the federal government.

At SIU, as at other regional universities, many research projects focus on overlooked issues in their own backyards. Here that means studying ways to help farmers yield stronger crops, to deal with invasive species in the waterways, and to deliver mental health care to remote schools.

“We are at a crossroads and facing a national crisis. It is going to have far-reaching consequences for higher education,” said Mary Louise Cashel, a clinical psychology professor at SIU whose research, which focuses on youth violence prevention among diverse populations, relies on federal funding.

Supporters of Trump’s proposed research funding cuts say schools should dip into their endowment funds to offset the recent cuts. But SIU’s $210 million endowment, almost all of it earmarked for specific purposes, is pocket change compared with Ivy League schools like Yale, which has a similar student population size but a roughly $41 billion endowment. At present, SIU faces a $9.4 million deficit, the result of declining enrollments and years of state budget cuts; there is no cushion for it to fall back on.

A mix of empty businesses and city buildings seen in a window reflection in downtown Carbondale. The university is the largest employer in the region. (Julia Rendleman for ProPublica)

Intertwined with SIU’s fate is that of Carbondale, a town of 21,500 about 50 miles from the borders of Kentucky and Missouri. Since its founding in 1869, the university has turned Carbondale into a tiny cultural mecca and a powerful economic engine in an otherwise vast, rural region that has been battered by the decline of manufacturing and coal mining. Three decades ago, SIU and Carbondale felt electric: Lecture halls overflowed; local businesses thrived on the fall surge of students; The Strip, a longstanding student hangout, spilled over every weekend, music rattling windows into the early morning hours.

The “Dirty Dale,” as the town is affectionately known, still carries traces of its college-town energy, and SIU remains the largest employer in the region. But there’s an undeniable fade as the student population is now half the size it was in the 1990s. Some of the local anchor establishments along The Strip have vanished. Now, more cuts threaten to push the university, and the town that depends on it, to a breaking point.

Jeff Vaughn, a retired police officer who has owned Tres Hombres restaurant and bar in the heart of town for the past 10 years, says the school, though smaller, still has a huge impact on businesses’ bottom lines.

First image: Jeff Vaughn, center, has a drink with friends at Tres Hombres, his restaurant in Carbondale. Second image: Edwin Linson performs to a multigenerational crowd at Tres Hombres. (Julia Rendleman for ProPublica)

“It’s dollar bills coming into the city” that wouldn’t be here otherwise, he said. “It’s the people who work there, the people going to school there — every part of it brings money into the city. A basketball game happens, people come into town and they usually go out to eat before the game.”

Even before the Trump administration began its cuts in academia, it was clear to regional leaders that the school and the community needed to do more. A 2020 report by a regional economic development agency issued a warning: “The region can no longer sit idle and let SIU tackle these issues on their own.”

DEI, a Survival Strategy?

The Rev. Joseph A. Brown at his home in Carbondale (Julia Rendleman for ProPublica)

The Rev. Joseph A. Brown, a professor of Africana studies at Southern Illinois University, calls federal orders on higher education “epistolary drones.”

“Bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb,” Brown said, “and everybody’s running and ducking.”

Brown spoke by phone in late February, his oxygen tank humming in the background after a bout of pneumonia. While he was in the hospital, his inbox and phone were blowing up with panicked messages about the federal directive that schools eliminate all diversity, equity and inclusion programs.

That’s because diversity also means something more in regional public universities: Many students at SIU come from families that are poor, or barely middle class, and depend on scholarships and mentorship to succeed. Paul Frazier, SIU’s vice chancellor for anti-racism, diversity, equity and inclusion, said the way DEI has been politicized ignores what it actually does: “Poor doesn’t have a color.”

But beyond helping students, DEI is also about the school’s survival.

In 2021, SIU Chancellor Austin Lane rolled out Imagine 2030 — an ambitious blueprint for rebuilding SIU Carbondale. It called for doubling down on research, expanding student success programs and, at its core, embedding diversity into how the university operates, including in the recruitment of students, hiring and training of faculty and staff, and creation of programs that offer extra help to students struggling to keep up in their classes. It also called for growing SIU’s enrollment to 15,000.

Paul Frazier, vice chancellor for anti-racism, diversity, equity and inclusion at SIU (Julia Rendleman for ProPublica)

SIU won’t reach that goal without targeted recruitment. “You can’t do that without bringing more of the largest-growing population, which is Latinx and Hispanic students,” Frazier said. “It’ll be like an old Western,” Frazier said of the risks of further eroding SIU. “It’ll be a ghost town.”

SIU is offering marketing materials in Spanish for the first time in years. Similar efforts are going into reigniting passion for SIU throughout Cook County, home to Chicago; near St. Louis, and in high schools close by.

While the plan was new, the desire to bring in students from a wide range of backgrounds was not. From the start, SIU grew against the grain by embracing diversity in a region that often didn’t.

In 1874, two Black women enrolled in the school’s first class. A few years later, Alexander Lane became SIU’s first Black male student and then its first Black graduate, according to research by an SIU history professor. Born to an enslaved mother in Mississippi, Lane graduated and became a teacher, then a doctor, then a lawmaker in the state Capitol. Today, a scholarship in his name helps students gain internships in state government.

Plywood covers a vacant business on The Strip in downtown Carbondale. Businesses have struggled as the student population declined. (Julia Rendleman for ProPublica)

During World War II, SIU expanded to accommodate returning soldiers on the GI Bill. It designed parts of campus with accessibility in mind for wounded veterans in hopes of drawing students and boosting enrollment.

By 1991, the student body peaked at nearly 25,000. And even amid significant changes that hurt enrollment, by 2010 it still had 20,000.

Alexander Lane, born to an enslaved mother in Mississippi, graduated from SIU and went on to become a teacher, physician and lawmaker in the state Capitol. (The Broad Ax newspaper)

In the decade that followed, SIU lost nearly 9,000 students—a nearly 45% drop. A lot happened, but one decision proved fateful: Concerns had surfaced that SIU was enrolling underprepared Black students from inner-city Chicago and failing to support them. At the same time, the university wanted to reshape its image, positioning itself as a world-class research institution. Officials targeted a different type of student and stopped recruiting as heavily in Cook County.

This era also saw a state budget crisis, and high-level leadership churned amid constant drama. (The university had seven chancellors between 2010 and 2020.) Eventually, it wasn’t about pulling away from Cook County — it was about having no direction at all. And by the end of the decade, SIU had fewer than 12,000 students. By the time the chancellor unfurled Imagine 2030, it was clear that diversity — in all its forms — was the only path forward.

Clawing Its Way Back

It’s easy to destabilize a school. But restoring it? That’s a much harder challenge.

Still, recently, it has felt like SIU has been clawing its way back. There have been two straight years of enrollment gains, driven in part by an influx of students coming from Southern Illinois and again from Cook County, as well as by growing online programs. And in late February, the Carnegie Classification of Institutions of Higher Education, which ranks universities by research spending, elevated SIU to its “very high” Research 1 status. In academic circles, it’s a big deal — putting SIU on the academic research map and bestowing it a status symbol that helps recruit top faculty and students.

“It’s a great day to be a Saluki,” SIU President Dan Mahony said, referencing SIU’s canine mascot, at a February celebration of that promotion. Then there was a pop, and confetti rained down.

But the federal financial directives and cultural wars roiling higher education are, once again, unsettling the campus and wider community. Things escalated earlier this month when SIU became a new target for the right: A social media account known for targeting LGBTQ+ people and DEI initiatives, Libs of TikTok, posted about an SIU professor who had uploaded explicit photos of himself online. The post, about an openly gay School of Medicine professor who has been publicly critical of Trump, took off, racking up more than 3 million views and hundreds of shares and comments.

“LoTT INVESTIGATION: LGBTQ professor at a Public University posts extreme p*rnographic videos of himself m*sturbating ON CAMPUS,” it read.

His employee profile quickly disappeared from the school’s website, and within days, SIU officials announced he was no longer employed by the university; he was subsequently charged with two misdemeanor counts of public indecency, and an arraignment hearing is scheduled for late April. But the controversy made SIU, not just the professor, a target. The post also took SIU to task for promoting itself on a hiring website as an “anti-racist” community. “SIU receives tens of millions of dollars from the federal government. SIU is violating Trump’s EO and should be stripped of their federal funding,” it read, tagging Elon Musk’s cost-cutting federal Department of Government Efficiency.

The irony is high: While Carbondale, where the school is located, is a solidly blue island, it is surrounded by a conservative rural region hanging in the balance.

Across the nation, universities are eliminating or rebranding DEI offices to avoid federal scrutiny. SIU isn’t backing down.

“As a university, we need to stay the course,” Phil Gilbert, chair of SIU’s Board of Trustees and a longtime federal judge appointed by George H.W. Bush, said at a recent board meeting. “I can’t think of an institution more important to diversity, equity and inclusion than an educational institution, because education is the bridge to tomorrow for everyone.”

The real targets of the war on DEI include civil rights enforcement, federal outlays that serve Black communities, and Black workers in and out of government.

How shall we redeem the deferred promise of civil rights and racial justice?

The document from a state fusion center cites high health care costs as a key source of instability in the country.

by Kavitha Surana and Cassandra Jaramillo

ProPublica is a nonprofit newsroom that investigates abuses of power. Sign up to receive our biggest stories as soon as they’re published.

Texas Republicans have proposed changes to the state’s strict abortion ban they say would make clear that doctors can terminate pregnancies for serious medical risks without having to wait until a patient’s condition becomes life-threatening.

The legislation comes in response to a ProPublica investigation last fall that revealed how three Texas women died after they did not receive critical procedures during miscarriages. The reporting added to the testimonies and reports of dozens of women denied care during pregnancy complications and led to a statewide reckoning on the dire effects of the law.

The bill, which will have its first committee hearing in the state Senate today, represents a remarkable reversal for Republican leaders who had for years insisted no changes were needed. It was written by state Sen. Bryan Hughes, the author of the original ban who said just four months ago that exceptions for medical emergencies were “plenty clear.” Texas’ governor and lieutenant governor have signaled support for the bill.

It is part of a wave of legislation responding to public pressure after ProPublica’s reporting revealed preventable maternal deaths in states with abortion bans. Bills that have the most traction have been filed and championed by the same Republicans who passed the bans and they have earned a mixed reception.

A bill in Kentucky, for instance, has drawn alarms from critics who cast it as a Trojan horse. It creates modest exceptions to the state’s near-total ban while redefining abortion in a way that advocates fear could greatly restrict patients’ access to critical procedures even in emergencies. Democratic Gov. Andy Beshear vetoed the bill Tuesday, saying it failed to protect women or even clarify the state’s law, an action Republicans could vote to override this week.

The Texas bill however, has broader support and was written in consultation with Democrats, major anti-abortion groups, the Texas Hospital Association and the Texas Medical Association.

Some legal experts and reproductive health care advocates are calling it a significant step forward in a Republican-led state that has shown every sign of clamping down in support of its strict laws, even in the face of public outcry.

“We wish there was a lot more in the bill, but nothing that’s in the bill is bad,” said Bee Moorhead, executive director with Texas Impact, an interfaith-based coalition that sent 6,000 postcards to lawmakers, demanding change after ProPublica’s reporting.

“The basic point is that there are people who would die if this bill doesn’t pass, who would not die if it does pass,” she said.

The bill is intended to make it harder for prosecutors to win a case against a doctor who provided an abortion to a patient experiencing pregnancy complications. It no longer requires a patient’s condition to be “life-threatening.” Doctors can act if their “reasonable medical judgment” assesses a “serious risk to a major bodily function.” It also specifies that doctors do not need to wait until an emergency is “imminent” to terminate pregnancies.

“It goes a long way towards fixing the most serious problems with the Texas abortion law,” said Seth Chandler, a law professor at the University of Houston Law Center.

Others are skeptical that the changes would go far enough to reassure risk-averse hospitals and doctors. While the bill attempts to mitigate the criminal risk for providers handling pregnancy complications, it leaves intact the most powerful deterrent: steep penalties of up to $100,000 in fines, 99 years in prison and loss of medical license for those who violate the law.

It also leaves open the question of what constitutes a “serious risk.” Doctors previously told ProPublica the ban’s unclear language and stiff penalties have led to delays in care. In response to ProPublica’s reporting on preventable maternal deaths in Texas, 111 Texas OB-GYNs signed a letter blaming the deaths on the ban and urging lawmakers to “do something to make sure this never happens again.”

The Center for Reproductive Rights, which has represented 20 women suing the state after they were denied abortions and faced health risks, opposes the bill. The American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists declined to comment on the bill. Many doctors are adopting a wait-and-see stance.

ProPublica parsed through the language and ran it by six legal experts and six doctors to assess how likely the legislation is to save lives. While some expressed tempered optimism that legislators recognizing there was a problem, most said broader changes would be needed to guarantee the protection of patients.

“Too Many Women Have Died”

Texas’ abortion laws are among the strictest in the country. While the current laws have exceptions, they are written in a way that requires a patient’s condition to be “life-threatening” before receiving an abortion.

The result: Some doctors and hospitals have held back on treatments, waiting for the fetal heartbeat to stop or for patients to wind up in undeniable distress.

ProPublica has investigated three cases in which women in Texas died after doctors delayed care during miscarriages, finding that doctors have failed to provide critical procedures or delayed them while taking extra steps to record documentation, even when there was no fetal heartbeat and a patient’s condition was urgent.

Josseli Barnica was 17 weeks pregnant when she was diagnosed with an “inevitable” miscarriage at a Houston hospital in September 2021. Though her fetus was already pressing against her cervix, doctors waited 40 hours until the fetal heartbeat stopped to induce a delivery, putting her at serious risk of deadly infection. She returned to the hospital two days later with sepsis and died.

Nevaeh Crain, 18, also died from complications of sepsis after delays in care. In 2023, she was sent home from two hospitals while she showed signs of infection and then made to wait 90 minutes for a second ultrasound to confirm fetal demise as her organs were failing.

Sepsis has become a lot more common in these kinds of cases, ProPublica found, in a first-of-its-kind statewide analysis of hospitalizations for second-trimester pregnancy loss through 2023. After Texas banned abortion, sepsis rates spiked more than 50%.

In every preventable death in a hospital that ProPublica reported on, doctors did not perform procedures that are associated with abortion but are also critical for treating miscarriages.

As Porsha Ngumezi hemorrhaged in 2022, her doctor did not provide a dilation and curettage procedure, the standard way to empty the uterus that a dozen doctors told ProPublica would be the quickest way to stop the bleeding. She died, leaving behind a husband and two sons.

Supporters of the new legislation say it aims to prevent such outcomes.

Current law specifies that the woman must be suffering a “life-threatening” physical condition in order for doctors to intervene. The amendment strikes that phrase and says doctors can perform abortions if, using their reasonable medical judgment, they believe there’s a “serious risk of substantial impairment of a major bodily function” or “risk of death.” (Like federal law, Texas law defines major bodily functions as systems including the body’s reproductive, digestive, bowel, bladder, respiratory and neurological processes.)

The bill also states it should be viewed as consistent with recent rulings from the Texas Supreme Court, which state that the risk to a woman’s life or major bodily function does not need to be “imminent” for doctors to provide abortions under the law. That’s the most important change in the new bill, according to Joanna Grossman, a law professor at Southern Methodist University. She credited ProPublica’s reporting with pushing lawmakers to act.

“I think the GOP in Texas has been shamed a little bit by those stories,” she said. “If nobody is telling the stories of people with wanted pregnancies who are dying and suffering severe harm they can pretend that isn’t happening.”

The bill says an abortion may also be performed for ectopic pregnancies and for removing “a dead unborn child” after a miscarriage. It removes the “affirmative defense” that applied to certain exceptions in the civil code. That part of the law puts the burden of proof on the doctor to show the abortion was necessary — similar to claiming self-defense in a homicide case.

It seeks to insulate medical staff from being accused of “aiding or abetting” an abortion — so nurses and other colleagues don’t need to be afraid they could be prosecuted for participating in an abortion or discussing it.

Another part of the proposal says that the physician should try to preserve the fetus’ life but does not need to “alter or withhold” medical treatment if that delay poses a greater threat to the woman’s life or a major bodily function.

That is meant to show doctors that they can provide abortions for cases with known risks such as pre-viable premature rupture of membranes, or PPROM, when a patient’s water breaks before viability, even if the patient is still stable, said Amy and Steve Bresnen, two lobbyists involved in negotiating the bill for Texas Campaign for Mothers. The nonprofit, which has powerful Republicans on its advisory board, is focused on reproductive health.

Other changes specify that it’s not a violation of the law if a doctor provides a treatment to a pregnant patient and the fetus dies accidentally in the process. The Bresnens say these changes are intended to reassure physicians they shouldn’t delay treatments for other conditions, like cancer, out of fear they could be blamed for harming the fetus.

All of this should add up to a wide buffer for doctors in Texas to provide the same standard of care that major medical organizations recommend, the Bresnens said, because the exceptions will rely on the doctor’s “reasonable” judgment.

For prosecutors, “proving that no other reasonable physician would have done this is a high, high burden,” Steve Bresnen said.

Texas state Rep. Ann Johnson, a Democrat who signed on as a co-author of the bill, believes the amendment would give “all the tools in the medical toolbox” back to physicians.

“Do not delay, do not alter your treatment. Do not second guess it. Do exactly what you need to do to protect this woman,” Johnson said in describing the proposal.

At a press conference last week, Texas state Rep. Charlie Geren, a Republican sponsoring the legislation in the House, said the bill was the most important he has ever carried and acknowledged the toll of the abortion ban he and his colleagues passed four years ago.

“Too many women have suffered, too many women have died — if one woman has died, it’s too many and more have,” he said. “I have friends whose wives can no longer conceive because of the problems they went through with their first pregnancy and the delay that doctors faced in addressing the problem.”

“They Don’t Want to Run the Risk”

But the law hasn’t changed in the one way doctors most want it to: It can still effectively send them to prison for life if found guilty of a violation.

“The criminalization of medical decision-making makes the stakes different than it has ever been,” said Tony Ogburn, an OB-GYN practicing in Texas. He was hopeful the bill might lead to some change, but warned, “I think people are still going to be overly cautious because of the severity of the potential outcome and the criminal penalties.”

ProPublica spoke with six OB-GYNs in the state who worried the amendments may not be enough to spur hospital systems to change their policies to make abortions more accessible for patients with medical risks. Besides leaving the threat of penalties in place, they noted that the amendment doesn’t explain what constitutes a “serious risk” to a major bodily function — the circumstance that would justify an abortion.

“It doesn’t really clear things up that much,” agreed Mary Ziegler, a law professor at the University of California, Davis School of Law and leading historian of the U.S. abortion debate. ”Hospitals are not advising doctors not to intervene just because they don’t understand the law — it’s that they don’t want to run the risk.”

The bill directs the State Bar of Texas and the Texas Medical Board to create courses to educate lawyers and doctors about when they can provide abortions under the exceptions. Both declined to comment on specifics. Doctors said it will be crucial to see what guidance comes out of that effort.

In South Dakota, a similar directive resulted in the state medical board collaborating with a professional association of doctors devoted to anti-abortion causes.

In any case, the changes in Texas law would still apply only to the narrowest of cases. Many doctors noted that Republicans have so far rejected efforts to make a broader health exception in the bill or include exceptions for fetal anomalies, rape or incest. The law still explicitly says a medical emergency can’t be based on any diagnosis that patients may harm themselves — effectively a ban on mental health exceptions.

Competing bills filed by Texas Democrats that have included some of those provisions so far have not received support from Republicans. Several Democrats have also filed legislation to better examine how the state’s abortion ban is affecting the maternal health crisis following ProPublica’s reporting.

Texas state Sen. José Menéndez introduced legislation to allow the state committee investigating maternal deaths to review deaths due to abortion, or a miscarriage if an abortion procedure or medication was administered. Currently, state law prohibits the committee from studying such deaths.

Another bill seeks to compel the state committee to report its findings to the CDC’s federal program tracking causes of maternal mortality. Both bills are currently pending in committee and have not been scheduled for a hearing.

Meanwhile, Texas Republicans continue to crack down on abortion in other ways. Another Republican bill filed by Hughes this session is aimed at stopping the flow of abortion pills through the mail as well as restricting online information about the procedure. And last week, the state charged a midwife and an associate with illegally providing abortions.

“I don’t think [the amendment] solves the larger problem of who can have an abortion and when they can have an abortion, and that it’ll be done in a timely manner for all those that need it,” Ogburn said. “There’s a lot of variables, which is why it’s really hard to legislate health care, and I think those decisions could be left to patients and their doctors.”

Ziva Branstetter contributed reporting. Mariam Elba contributed research.