theintercept--2020-04-28--Women in ICE Detention Face Reprisals for Speaking Up About Fears of Covid-19

spread though Immigration and Customs Enforcement detention centers across the U.S. , immigrants locked inside are frantic that they could get sick and die .
They are using innovative methods to tell the public about their fears , even as some of their jailers try to silence them , including by locking them in segregation .
That is what happened on April 21 to five women at the Irwin County Detention Center in rural Georgia .
Using a video-teleconferencing app available to detainees in many ICE facilities , they called one woman ’ s boyfriend , who recorded them describing @ @ @ @ @ @ @ conditions at Irwin that made them feel terrified about contracting Covid-19 .
One woman began sobbing as she begged to be released .
The resulting video ended up on Spanish-language television , social media , and YouTube .
In the video , the women said they knew they risked retaliation for going public .
Their concerns proved well-founded .
Now , according to a lawyer who represents one of them , they are crying at night , knocking on the walls to comfort one another , and screaming through the food slots to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ good reason to fear the spread of the virus .
By press time , ICE had reported that 375 immigrants detained nationwide were infected with Covid-19 , as well as 35 ICE employees working at detention facilities .
ICE has released at least 700 people who have tested positive for Covid-19 or have underlying medical conditions that put them at especially high risk should they become infected .
And on April 20 , a federal judge in California ordered the agency to identify all vulnerable immigrants in its custody by the end of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ 55 or older , are pregnant , have cancer , or have cardiovascular or respiratory diseases .
When the court decision came down , ICE counted about 31,000 immigrants in its detention centers .
The agency will not release an updated figure until later this week , but over the last few days , The Intercept has spoken with immigrants who have medical conditions such as diabetes and cancer who remain in detention .
Among the many still locked up , some are using the jailhouse equivalent of FaceTime or Zoom to speak @ @ @ @ @ @ @ years ago , prison phone companies , including Global Tel-Link Corp. , started marketing digital tablets to jails , prisons , and ICE detention facilities .
Via the internet , applications such as GTL ’ s “ GettingOut ” provide inmates with audiovisual interaction with the outside world .
The sessions cost 21 to 25 cents a minute .
Video visitation is officially meant to encourage socializing with friends and family , and it has become ubiquitous as more and more jails and prisons ban in-person visits — a trend that has intensified @ @ @ @ @ @ @ applications like GettingOut are also being deployed by people in detention to advocate for their rights .
As their grainy images fill the screens of people who get the calls , detainees present evidence of severe crowding in ICE facilities , a lack of personal protective equipment , and their belief that their dorm-mates are sick with Covid-19 but their cases are unreported .
They ask politicians and the public to help them .
Groups often take turns speaking one by one , holding handmade signs .
Loved ones , immigrant advocates , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
After the media publishes the videos , detainees have been punished — and not just at Irwin .
At the South Louisiana ICE Processing Center , for instance , women who made a video had their access to phone calls and television temporarily cut off and video visitation hours permanently reduced .
They were threatened with criminal charges if they made more videos , and staff have apparently impeded my ability to use GettingOut to communicate with detainees .
The reprisals violate the immigrants ’ First Amendment rights to free expression , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ with sources , and the public ’ s right to be informed .
On April 17 , three of the women at Irwin used GettingOut to speak with The Intercept about what had prompted them to make the video .
They said they had learned from the news on April 10 that a detained person at Irwin had tested positive for Covid-19 .
One woman said her dorm supervisor told her that another detainee was also infected .
ICE ’ s online list of Covid-19 cases now includes two detainees at Irwin , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ LaSalle facilities hold 22 percent of all ICE detainees reportedly infected with the virus .
The women talked all weekend and decided that they needed to do something .
On Sunday , April 12 , they conducted their group GettingOut session with Anthony , the boyfriend of one of the detained women .
She and the others held signs in Spanish and talked about trying to protect themselves against Covid-19 by making face masks out of socks .
One speaker described the group ’ s fear that “ they ’ ll retaliate against @ @ @ @ @ @ @ afraid they ’ ll put us in solitary confinement.
” By Tuesday , the video was being published in Spanish-language media in the U.S .
Images of men protesting at Irwin , taken from GettingOut recordings , were also aired .
Then the visual and audio functions of GettingOut ceased to work at the facility for several days .
“ You can still use it for texting , ” the mother of one of the detainees told The Intercept .
“ When you try to do a video visit , you just get @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , but many relatives — including this mother — live outside of the U.S. and can ’ t receive calls from prison phones .
“ I haven ’ t been able for days to talk to my daughter , ” she said .
Tablet and GettingOut service was finally restored on the morning of April 17 .
Irwin detainee Diana Cruz Casas has lived in the U.S. since she was a young child .
Via telephone and then GettingOut just after service came back on , she told me that she and her @ @ @ @ @ @ @ a few days earlier to discuss their grievances and left feeling humiliated and terrified .
Cruz Casas , who was asked to translate because the staffer did not speak Spanish , had to relay his chilling remarks to the rest of the women .
“ He said that ICE can ’ t do anything if we get sick , ” Cruz Casas said .
“ That the hospitals are filled and there ’ s no place to send us .
He said that ICE ’ s only job is to deport us , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
He said we were like roaches that ICE keeps in boxes .
To make money.
” Another detainee who attended the meeting told me via GettingOut that she was “ broken by what he said .
It is as though we are animals .
And there is no one who cares whether we live or die.
” “ He had on a face mask , ” another detainee recalled .
“ We have no face masks or any other protection.
” The Intercept asked Bryan Cox , ICE ’ s southern region @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the fact that detainees were being punished for using GettingOut to communicate with the press .
Their access , he wrote , “ may be restricted or limited to prevent interference with orderly operation of the facility .
Group protest activities clearly potentially fall within the scope of the standard.
” Cox further wrote that “ you are referencing persons who are under arrest and detained in the custody of a federal law enforcement agency.
” In retrospect , his statement was ominous .
On April 21 , four days after my conversation @ @ @ @ @ @ @ other women , including some I had spoken with on GettingOut , were removed from their dorms , most in handcuffs , and put into solitary confinement .
They had no access to phones and for the first few days were held incommunicado .
Their families were frantic .
Ana Fuentes , an immigration attorney in Atlanta , had a standing weekly Skype meeting with one of the women , but she didn ’ t show up for the appointment .
“ I ’ ve never had this happen with any client , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to get information about the woman ’ s whereabouts .
On April 24 , Diego Sanchez , an attorney at the Southern Poverty Law Center ’ s Southeast Immigrant Freedom Initiative who represents Anthony ’ s girlfriend , called his client for a scheduled meeting via Skype .
She appeared on the screen .
Sanchez told me that his client said six guards brought her to the Skype room in handcuffs .
She told Sanchez that officials had ordered the women to sign papers admitting that they had acted improperly by making the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ not respond to questions from The Intercept about the reported retaliation against the five women .
One woman was released after a day , not only from solitary but also from ICE detention .
She is with family now and has told Anthony that she does not want to speak publicly about what happened at Irwin .
“ She was told that if she did that , it would make things worse for the women being punished , ” Anthony told The Intercept .
The other four women remain locked up .
Sanchez @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Anthony on Saturday .
Another woman , who was able to call her aunt in the U.S. , said she had not signed the “ guilt ” paper either .
Both women said they have been told that they will stay in solitary for two weeks .
Irwin is not the only ICE jail where immigrants are facing reprisals for trying to talk publicly about their conditions of confinement .
The nonprofit group Freedom for Immigrants , which monitors human and civil rights violations against immigrants in detention , posts reports of ICE @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to the Covid-19 threat : everything from hunger strikes to petitions to visitation videos for the public .
Last week , Freedom for Immigrants counted 29 detention facilities where these actions have taken place .
Another organization , Perilous Chronicle , told The Intercept last week that it had counted 34 ICE-related actions protesting Covid-19 conditions .
The group thinks the actual number is much higher .
According to Freedom for Immigrants and Perilous Chronicle , several facilities have retaliated against detained people trying to organize .
In late March , I was @ @ @ @ @ @ @ South Louisiana ICE Processing Center , a rural detention facility about three hours from New Orleans managed by the private prison company the Geo Group .
The women spoke to me by phone and GettingOut about their fears of contracting the deadly virus .
To date , the Geo Group ’ s facilities have contributed 14 percent of reported Covid-19 cases among ICE employees and detainees .
One woman said she knew English and was going to help the others write signs in that language .
As I pointed my smartphone at my @ @ @ @ @ @ @ silently displaying handwritten signs that described a sick woman in their midst who appeared to have Covid-19 , the crowded conditions , and their terror of getting sick .
But before they finished , they suddenly scattered .
A guard could be heard yelling and demanding the signs .
The video abruptly ended .
The next day , the lead organizer called me .
She said that immediately after the incident , the women ’ s access to telephones , tablets , and television was denied for hours .
In addition , some @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the video were asked for their IDs and told that they would be investigated and punished .
On March 30 , The Intercept ran my story about South Louisiana , accompanied by the women ’ s video .
By then , the phones and GettingOut application had been turned back on .
The lead organizer told me that South Louisiana ’ s warden , Indalecio Ramos , interrogated them to learn who made the video and said that if anyone made more videos for the media , they would be disciplined .
They @ @ @ @ @ @ @ tablets for at least two weeks .
The facility decreased tablet usage from 15 minutes to 10 minutes per visit and limited their availability to nine hours a day on weekdays , down from 14 hours .
Ramos has since sent detainees at least one memo threatening criminal charges if more than one of them at a time uses a tablet or if they “ incite ” a “ group demonstration.
” The memo mandates that anyone who wants to use a tablet must first show identification , sign a logbook , and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ detainees from one another .
Earlier , no ID was required and the partitions were voluntary .
Reporters , too , are experiencing reprisals .
ICE ’ s rules about detainees speaking to the media are based on pre-technology days , when journalists had to make a written request to ICE for an in-person interview .
ICE ’ s own standards specify that “ detainees should not be pressured or coerced out of granting the interview request , nor should the facility in any way retaliate against a detainee for lawful communication with @ @ @ @ @ @ @ member of the public.
” Now , however , ICE facilities are trying to prevent GettingOut communication between the press and detained people .
On April 22 , after I noticed that I was unable to use the app to reach sources in several ICE facilities , I called GettingOut ’ s customer service line .
A representative told me that I had been blocked the day before , because of a request submitted by “ staff ” at the South Louisiana ICE Processing Center .
She said the request resulted in my @ @ @ @ @ @ @ GettingOut .
Three days later I checked again , spoke with another customer service person , and was again told that “ staff ” had asked for the block .
But “ it ’ s really odd , ” the representative said .
“ There ’ s no notes ” indicating which facility requested the block .
Nevertheless , he added , “ It seems that your account is suspended until 2025.
” I am not the only journalist whose ability to interview ICE detainees about Covid-19 has been disrupted .
Laura Morel @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Investigative Reporting , published a report on April 7 based on GettingOut sessions she recorded with people locked up at the Pine Prairie ICE Processing Center .
Two days later , Morel told The Intercept , she tried to do follow-up GettingOut sessions with two of her sources but was unable to contact them because their screens read “ SUSPENDED.
” She called their family members , who said the same thing was happening to them .
Reveal ’ s general counsel , Victoria Baranetsky , sent a cease-and-desist letter to Pine Prairie @ @ @ @ @ @ @ retaliatory actions ” that would constitute “ a clear violation of the detainees ’ First Amendment privileges as well as Reveal ’ s and the public ’ s rights to receive information about issues of significant national concern.
” Pine Prairie is currently reporting 17 detainees infected with Covid-19 .
Reveal ’ s letter was sent after attorneys for The Intercept wrote to Ramos , the warden at the South Louisiana ICE Processing Center .
Their cease-and-desist letter warned that Ramos ’ s “ retaliatory actions , meant to punish detainees for speaking @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and to stifle future communications with those in a position to report the wrongs inflicted upon the detainees , violate the First Amendment rights of both the detainees and The Intercept.
” The Intercept ’ s letter to the warden got a response from Charles Deacon , an attorney for the Geo Group .
He at first claimed that GettingOut was accessible to detainees most of the day .
But when The Intercept sent him Ramos ’ s memo indicating significantly reduced hours , Deacon sent another memo , which confirmed that hours @ @ @ @ @ @ @ 10 minutes .
Deacon wrote that the limitations , and the requirement that tablets be signed out , were ordered “ as a result of town hall meetings ” where detainees had complained that some among them were hoarding the GettingOut tablets .
One of the women who made the video disputed this claim when we later spoke by telephone .
She said that Ramos “ made these changes after we made the video , to punish us.
” Deacon wrote that detainees at South Louisiana have unlimited access to bar soap and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ more if they run out .
The woman detained at South Louisiana said this is also untrue .
“ We ask for more and are told to ask the people on the next shift .
And then the next .
Very rarely do we get what we ask for.
” She said that detainees are relieved to have received three face masks apiece to last for a week .
But their bar soap ration has been reduced , she said .
Deacon at first wrote that he had been assured that “ Ramos @ @ @ @ @ @ @ prosecution.
” After The Intercept sent him Ramos ’ s memo threatening criminal prosecution , Deacon wrote that Ramos himself couldn ’ t bring charges but ICE or police agencies could .
Deacon denied that South Louisiana staff had asked GettingOut to block me .
At press time , I remain blocked from seeing the faces — and protest signs — of ICE detainees everywhere who use the application .
The women at South Louisiana told me this weekend by phone that they want to make another video , but “ now we @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of a guard who watches everything all the time.
” At Irwin , four of the women who participated in the video remain segregated in two small cells .
On Sunday , another detainee stood outside the cells and told the locked-down women to speak loudly so I could hear .
“ This is not fair , ” they screamed .
“ Help us !
”

As Covid-19 cases spread though Immigration and Customs Enforcement detention centers across the U.S., immigrants locked inside are frantic that they could get sick and die. They are using innovative methods to tell the public about their fears, even as some of their jailers try to silence them, including by locking them in segregation.
That is what happened on April 21 to five women at the Irwin County Detention Center in rural Georgia. Using a video-teleconferencing app available to detainees in many ICE facilities, they called one woman’s boyfriend, who recorded them describing overcrowding, deficient sanitation, and other conditions at Irwin that made them feel terrified about contracting Covid-19. One woman began sobbing as she begged to be released. The resulting video ended up on Spanish-language television, social media, and YouTube.
In the video, the women said they knew they risked retaliation for going public. Their concerns proved well-founded. Now, according to a lawyer who represents one of them, they are crying at night, knocking on the walls to comfort one another, and screaming through the food slots to talk.
The women at Irwin had good reason to fear the spread of the virus. By press time, ICE had reported that 375 immigrants detained nationwide were infected with Covid-19, as well as 35 ICE employees working at detention facilities.
Detainees are using the jailhouse equivalent of FaceTime or Zoom to speak to the outside world.
ICE has released at least 700 people who have tested positive for Covid-19 or have underlying medical conditions that put them at especially high risk should they become infected. And on April 20, a federal judge in California ordered the agency to identify all vulnerable immigrants in its custody by the end of the month, including those who are 55 or older, are pregnant, have cancer, or have cardiovascular or respiratory diseases.
When the court decision came down, ICE counted about 31,000 immigrants in its detention centers. The agency will not release an updated figure until later this week, but over the last few days, The Intercept has spoken with immigrants who have medical conditions such as diabetes and cancer who remain in detention. Among the many still locked up, some are using the jailhouse equivalent of FaceTime or Zoom to speak to the outside world.
A few years ago, prison phone companies, including Global Tel-Link Corp., started marketing digital tablets to jails, prisons, and ICE detention facilities. Via the internet, applications such as GTL’s “GettingOut” provide inmates with audiovisual interaction with the outside world. The sessions cost 21 to 25 cents a minute.
Video visitation is officially meant to encourage socializing with friends and family, and it has become ubiquitous as more and more jails and prisons ban in-person visits — a trend that has intensified because of Covid-19. But lately, applications like GettingOut are also being deployed by people in detention to advocate for their rights. As their grainy images fill the screens of people who get the calls, detainees present evidence of severe crowding in ICE facilities, a lack of personal protective equipment, and their belief that their dorm-mates are sick with Covid-19 but their cases are unreported. They ask politicians and the public to help them. Groups often take turns speaking one by one, holding handmade signs.
Loved ones, immigrant advocates, and journalists are recording these GettingOut sessions. After the media publishes the videos, detainees have been punished — and not just at Irwin. At the South Louisiana ICE Processing Center, for instance, women who made a video had their access to phone calls and television temporarily cut off and video visitation hours permanently reduced. They were threatened with criminal charges if they made more videos, and staff have apparently impeded my ability to use GettingOut to communicate with detainees. The reprisals violate the immigrants’ First Amendment rights to free expression, the media’s rights to communicate with sources, and the public’s right to be informed.
A Chilling Message
On April 17, three of the women at Irwin used GettingOut to speak with The Intercept about what had prompted them to make the video. They said they had learned from the news on April 10 that a detained person at Irwin had tested positive for Covid-19. One woman said her dorm supervisor told her that another detainee was also infected. ICE’s online list of Covid-19 cases now includes two detainees at Irwin, which is owned by LaSalle Corrections. LaSalle facilities hold 22 percent of all ICE detainees reportedly infected with the virus.
The women talked all weekend and decided that they needed to do something. On Sunday, April 12, they conducted their group GettingOut session with Anthony, the boyfriend of one of the detained women. She and the others held signs in Spanish and talked about trying to protect themselves against Covid-19 by making face masks out of socks. One speaker described the group’s fear that “they’ll retaliate against us for speaking out. We are afraid they’ll put us in solitary confinement.” By Tuesday, the video was being published in Spanish-language media in the U.S. Images of men protesting at Irwin, taken from GettingOut recordings, were also aired.
Women at the Irwin County Detention Center in Georgia plea for help. For English subtitles on mobile, tap the dialog button in the bottom right of the video player. Credit: Rachel Taber
Then the visual and audio functions of GettingOut ceased to work at the facility for several days. “You can still use it for texting,” the mother of one of the detainees told The Intercept. “When you try to do a video visit, you just get a white screen.” Telephones remained available, but many relatives — including this mother — live outside of the U.S. and can’t receive calls from prison phones. “I haven’t been able for days to talk to my daughter,” she said. Tablet and GettingOut service was finally restored on the morning of April 17.
Irwin detainee Diana Cruz Casas has lived in the U.S. since she was a young child. Via telephone and then GettingOut just after service came back on, she told me that she and her dorm-mates had met with an ICE staffer a few days earlier to discuss their grievances and left feeling humiliated and terrified. Cruz Casas, who was asked to translate because the staffer did not speak Spanish, had to relay his chilling remarks to the rest of the women. “He said that ICE can’t do anything if we get sick,” Cruz Casas said. “That the hospitals are filled and there’s no place to send us. He said that ICE’s only job is to deport us, and they make their money doing that. He said we were like roaches that ICE keeps in boxes. To make money.”
Another detainee who attended the meeting told me via GettingOut that she was “broken by what he said. It is as though we are animals. And there is no one who cares whether we live or die.”
“He had on a face mask,” another detainee recalled. “We have no face masks or any other protection.”
The Intercept asked Bryan Cox, ICE’s southern region public affairs director, to respond to the fact that detainees were being punished for using GettingOut to communicate with the press. Their access, he wrote, “may be restricted or limited to prevent interference with orderly operation of the facility. Group protest activities clearly potentially fall within the scope of the standard.” Cox further wrote that “you are referencing persons who are under arrest and detained in the custody of a federal law enforcement agency.” In retrospect, his statement was ominous.
On April 21, four days after my conversation with Cruz Casas, she and four other women, including some I had spoken with on GettingOut, were removed from their dorms, most in handcuffs, and put into solitary confinement. They had no access to phones and for the first few days were held incommunicado. Their families were frantic. Ana Fuentes, an immigration attorney in Atlanta, had a standing weekly Skype meeting with one of the women, but she didn’t show up for the appointment. “I’ve never had this happen with any client,” Fuentes said. She was unable to get information about the woman’s whereabouts.
They were held incommunicado. Their families were frantic.
On April 24, Diego Sanchez, an attorney at the Southern Poverty Law Center’s Southeast Immigrant Freedom Initiative who represents Anthony’s girlfriend, called his client for a scheduled meeting via Skype. She appeared on the screen. Sanchez told me that his client said six guards brought her to the Skype room in handcuffs. She told Sanchez that officials had ordered the women to sign papers admitting that they had acted improperly by making the video. She refused.
Cox did not respond to questions from The Intercept about the reported retaliation against the five women.
One woman was released after a day, not only from solitary but also from ICE detention. She is with family now and has told Anthony that she does not want to speak publicly about what happened at Irwin. “She was told that if she did that, it would make things worse for the women being punished,” Anthony told The Intercept.
The other four women remain locked up. Sanchez’s client was allowed to call Anthony on Saturday. Another woman, who was able to call her aunt in the U.S., said she had not signed the “guilt” paper either. Both women said they have been told that they will stay in solitary for two weeks.
A Pattern of Punishment
Irwin is not the only ICE jail where immigrants are facing reprisals for trying to talk publicly about their conditions of confinement.
The nonprofit group Freedom for Immigrants, which monitors human and civil rights violations against immigrants in detention, posts reports of ICE facilities where organizing has occurred in response to the Covid-19 threat: everything from hunger strikes to petitions to visitation videos for the public. Last week, Freedom for Immigrants counted 29 detention facilities where these actions have taken place.
Another organization, Perilous Chronicle, told The Intercept last week that it had counted 34 ICE-related actions protesting Covid-19 conditions. The group thinks the actual number is much higher. According to Freedom for Immigrants and Perilous Chronicle, several facilities have retaliated against detained people trying to organize.
Read Our Complete Coverage The War on Immigrants
In late March, I was contacted by several women held in the South Louisiana ICE Processing Center, a rural detention facility about three hours from New Orleans managed by the private prison company the Geo Group. The women spoke to me by phone and GettingOut about their fears of contracting the deadly virus. To date, the Geo Group’s facilities have contributed 14 percent of reported Covid-19 cases among ICE employees and detainees. One woman said she knew English and was going to help the others write signs in that language.
As I pointed my smartphone at my computer screen, several women took turns silently displaying handwritten signs that described a sick woman in their midst who appeared to have Covid-19, the crowded conditions, and their terror of getting sick. But before they finished, they suddenly scattered. A guard could be heard yelling and demanding the signs. The video abruptly ended.
The next day, the lead organizer called me. She said that immediately after the incident, the women’s access to telephones, tablets, and television was denied for hours. In addition, some of those who’d participated in the video were asked for their IDs and told that they would be investigated and punished.
On March 30, The Intercept ran my story about South Louisiana, accompanied by the women’s video. By then, the phones and GettingOut application had been turned back on. The lead organizer told me that South Louisiana’s warden, Indalecio Ramos, interrogated them to learn who made the video and said that if anyone made more videos for the media, they would be disciplined. They would not be able to use the tablets for at least two weeks. The facility decreased tablet usage from 15 minutes to 10 minutes per visit and limited their availability to nine hours a day on weekdays, down from 14 hours.
The warden has sent detainees at least one memo threatening criminal charges if they “incite” a “group demonstration.”
Ramos has since sent detainees at least one memo threatening criminal charges if more than one of them at a time uses a tablet or if they “incite” a “group demonstration.” The memo mandates that anyone who wants to use a tablet must first show identification, sign a logbook, and then employ cardboard partitions that hide the detainees from one another. Earlier, no ID was required and the partitions were voluntary.
Reporters, too, are experiencing reprisals. ICE’s rules about detainees speaking to the media are based on pre-technology days, when journalists had to make a written request to ICE for an in-person interview. ICE’s own standards specify that “detainees should not be pressured or coerced out of granting the interview request, nor should the facility in any way retaliate against a detainee for lawful communication with a member of the media or a member of the public.”
Now, however, ICE facilities are trying to prevent GettingOut communication between the press and detained people. On April 22, after I noticed that I was unable to use the app to reach sources in several ICE facilities, I called GettingOut’s customer service line. A representative told me that I had been blocked the day before, because of a request submitted by “staff” at the South Louisiana ICE Processing Center. She said the request resulted in my being blocked from all facilities that use GettingOut. Three days later I checked again, spoke with another customer service person, and was again told that “staff” had asked for the block. But “it’s really odd,” the representative said. “There’s no notes” indicating which facility requested the block. Nevertheless, he added, “It seems that your account is suspended until 2025.”
I am not the only journalist whose ability to interview ICE detainees about Covid-19 has been disrupted. Laura Morel of Reveal, from the Center for Investigative Reporting, published a report on April 7 based on GettingOut sessions she recorded with people locked up at the Pine Prairie ICE Processing Center.
Two days later, Morel told The Intercept, she tried to do follow-up GettingOut sessions with two of her sources but was unable to contact them because their screens read “SUSPENDED.” She called their family members, who said the same thing was happening to them.
Reveal’s general counsel, Victoria Baranetsky, sent a cease-and-desist letter to Pine Prairie regarding what she described as “putative retaliatory actions” that would constitute “a clear violation of the detainees’ First Amendment privileges as well as Reveal’s and the public’s rights to receive information about issues of significant national concern.” Pine Prairie is currently reporting 17 detainees infected with Covid-19.
“It seems that your account is suspended until 2025.”
Reveal’s letter was sent after attorneys for The Intercept wrote to Ramos, the warden at the South Louisiana ICE Processing Center. Their cease-and-desist letter warned that Ramos’s “retaliatory actions, meant to punish detainees for speaking to the media about their dangerous conditions and to stifle future communications with those in a position to report the wrongs inflicted upon the detainees, violate the First Amendment rights of both the detainees and The Intercept.”
The Intercept’s letter to the warden got a response from Charles Deacon, an attorney for the Geo Group. He at first claimed that GettingOut was accessible to detainees most of the day. But when The Intercept sent him Ramos’s memo indicating significantly reduced hours, Deacon sent another memo, which confirmed that hours had been reduced and sessions limited to 10 minutes. Deacon wrote that the limitations, and the requirement that tablets be signed out, were ordered “as a result of town hall meetings” where detainees had complained that some among them were hoarding the GettingOut tablets. One of the women who made the video disputed this claim when we later spoke by telephone. She said that Ramos “made these changes after we made the video, to punish us.”
Deacon wrote that detainees at South Louisiana have unlimited access to bar soap and body wash and need only ask for more if they run out. The woman detained at South Louisiana said this is also untrue. “We ask for more and are told to ask the people on the next shift. And then the next. Very rarely do we get what we ask for.” She said that detainees are relieved to have received three face masks apiece to last for a week. But their bar soap ration has been reduced, she said.
Deacon at first wrote that he had been assured that “Ramos did not and cannot threaten criminal prosecution.” After The Intercept sent him Ramos’s memo threatening criminal prosecution, Deacon wrote that Ramos himself couldn’t bring charges but ICE or police agencies could. Deacon denied that South Louisiana staff had asked GettingOut to block me. At press time, I remain blocked from seeing the faces — and protest signs — of ICE detainees everywhere who use the application.
The women at South Louisiana told me this weekend by phone that they want to make another video, but “now we can’t get out of sight of a guard who watches everything all the time.” At Irwin, four of the women who participated in the video remain segregated in two small cells. On Sunday, another detainee stood outside the cells and told the locked-down women to speak loudly so I could hear. “This is not fair,” they screamed. “Help us!”


theintercept--2020-04-28--As Amazon, Walmart, and Others Profit Amid Coronavirus Crisis, Their Essential Workers Plan Unpreced

As Amazon, Walmart, and Others Profit Amid Coronavirus Crisis, Their Essential Workers Plan Unprecedented Strike

of workers from some of America ’ s largest companies will strike on Friday .
Workers from Amazon , Instacart , Whole Foods , Walmart , Target , and FedEx are slated to walk out on work , citing what they say is their employers ’ record profits at the expense of workers ’ health and safety during the coronavirus pandemic .
The employees will call out sick or walk off the job during their lunch break , according to a press release set to be published by organizers on Wednesday .
In some locations , rank-and-file union members will @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to support the demonstrations .
“ We are acting in conjunction with workers at Amazon , Target , Instacart and other companies for International Worker ’ s Day to show solidarity with other essential workers in our struggle for better protections and benefits in the pandemic , ” said Daniel Steinbrook , a Whole Foods employee and strike organizer .
The labor action comes as workers and organizers say Amazon , in particular , has not been forthcoming about the number of Covid-19 cases at its more than 175 fulfillment centers globally .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ , along with her small team of fellow Amazon workers , has over the last month tallied Covid-19 cases at Amazon warehouses in the U.S .
According to Jumpp , there have been at least 500 coronavirus cases in at least 125 Amazon facilities .
Jumpp suspects that the number is much higher , but says this is what she and her team have been able to directly confirm through their sourcing , which includes screenshots of internal company texts and voicemails to employees when cases have arisen , in addition to messages @ @ @ @ @ @ @ groups .
The numbers , which have not been previously reported , are the most comprehensive to this point .
Amazon declined to comment on the numbers of sick workers compiled by organizers .
“ While we respect people ’ s right to express themselves , we object to the irresponsible actions of labor groups in spreading misinformation and making false claims about Amazon during this unprecedented health and economic crisis , ” said Amazon spokesperson Rachael Lighty .
She added , “ We have gone to extreme measures to understand and address @ @ @ @ @ @ @ is the latest in a wave of actions led by union and nonunion front-line workers .
Last month , Amazon workers in New York City and more than 10,000 Instacart workers across the country staged a walkout .
Whole Foods employees led a national sickout on March 31 , while upwards of 800 workers skipped their shifts at a Colorado meatpacking plant as coronavirus cases were confirmed among employees .
Sanitation workers in Pittsburgh and bus drivers in Detroit both staged wildcat strikes .
“ These workers have been exploited so shamelessly for @ @ @ @ @ @ @ incredibly important but largely invisible labor , ” said Stephen Brier , a labor historian and professor at the CUNY School of Labor and Urban Studies .
“ All of a sudden , they ’ re deemed essential workers in a pandemic , giving them tremendous leverage and power if they organize collectively.
” The workers coalition will unveil a set of demands .
Among them are : compensation for all unpaid time off used since the beginning of the Covid-19 crisis in March ; hazard pay or paid sick leave to be @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ; protective equipment and all cleaning supplies to be provided at all times by the company ; and a demand for full corporate transparency on the number of cases in facilities .
The workers chose May 1 , International Workers Day , as a signal to workers everywhere that collectively , they can take on corporate behemoths , said Christian Smalls , a lead organizer of the strike .
Amazon fired Smalls on March 30 , only hours after he led his colleagues at a company warehouse in Staten Island , New York @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Amazon ’ s response to the pandemic .
Amazon said Smalls was fired for violating a company-enforced quarantine .
The firing galvanized front-line workers everywhere , who sent dozens of messages daily to Smalls asking how they too could organize work stoppages to protest their workplace conditions .
Smalls joined forces with workers rights groups like Amazonians United , Target Workers Unite , Whole Worker , and the Gig Workers Collective , among others .
The coalition organized the strike over the last several weeks on Zoom calls and encrypted messaging apps like @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Rev .
Jesse Jackson joined in on one Zoom call to briefly address the organizers , offering the full support of his Rainbow Push network .
“ I am with you in your struggle , ” Jackson told the call ’ s participants .
The Intercept spoke to 20 organizers from more than half a dozen states , reflecting the widespread nature of the strike .
From Whole Foods workers in Boston to Instacart gig workers in Silicon Valley to Amazon warehouse organizers in Kentucky and Michigan , their stories and demands varied @ @ @ @ @ @ @ neglect toward workers now regarded as essential — alongside doctors , nurses , and EMT workers — during the coronavirus outbreak that has forced much of the nation into home lockdown .
“ All of these workers are coming together and building power , ” said Vanessa Bain , an Instacart worker and co-founder of the Gig Workers Collective , which counts more than 17,000 members and advocates for gig workers ’ rights .
“ May Day is not just a one-time symbolic action , but also about building real , vast , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Companies Not Doing Enough The company that has faced the most sustained criticism throughout the outbreak has been Amazon , whose CEO Jeff Bezos has personally become $ 24 billion richer during the pandemic .
Last week , Amazon announced that it was ending its temporary policy of unlimited , unpaid time off on April 30 .
In response , on early Sunday morning , more than 50 Amazon workers in Minnesota walked out of a company warehouse in suburban Minneapolis to protest the move and decry their working conditions .
In March @ @ @ @ @ @ @ workers to meet surging demand and to cover for workers who had taken out the unpaid leave over fears of exposure to the virus at their workplace .
This month , the company announced plans for an additional 75,000 hires .
For its part , Instacart hired 300,000 new shoppers in March alone — more than its entire existing workforce to that point — and last week announced that it would hire an additional 250,000 workers to meet the historic demand .
The hiring binge by Amazon and Instacart exposed the winners and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ not deemed essential by the state fight mass layoffs , said Brier .
Critics say the opportunities to “ cash in ” on the pandemic have not come without risks .
Pressured by worker protests and elected officials , companies granted some concessions to workers .
Amazon , Walmart , and Target increased hourly pay by $ 2 .
Amazon now provides personal protective equipment at its facilities and more actively cleans workspaces , while Target has mandated its workers to wear masks after weeks of reports that they were reprimanded for doing @ @ @ @ @ @ @ all six companies targeted in Friday ’ s strike .
FedEx , Walmart , and Whole Foods did not offer comments .
Instacart said the company remained “ singularly focused on the health and safety of the Instacart community.
” In a statement , Target said it had taken many measures to ensure the safety of its employees and customers .
Of the May Day strike , the company said , “ While we take them seriously , the concerns raised are from a very small minority .
The vast majority of our @ @ @ @ @ @ @ expressed pride in the role they are playing in helping provide for families across the country during this time of need.
” A Staten Island worker , who requested anonymity for fear of retaliation from Amazon , has been on unpaid leave for more than a month .
As someone with a number of underlying health conditions , the worker said contracting the virus would be “ a death sentence.
” They are surviving off meager savings and had to move into a friend ’ s home because they could no longer pay @ @ @ @ @ @ @ down the warehouse and do a thorough , deep cleaning for it to be safe , ” the worker told The Intercept .
“ If someone dies , they have blood on their hands.
” An Amazon worker in Detroit , who plans to call out sick on Friday , described a warehouse where , for weeks , there was no enforced social distancing and no gloves , masks , and hand sanitizer provided to workers , even as the city became a national coronavirus hot spot .
Multiple colleagues confirmed the worker @ @ @ @ @ @ @ “ You either come to work or take an unpaid leave of absence , ” said the worker , who has a serious underlying health condition .
“ If I miss one paycheck , it would mean I lose my vehicle , I lose my place to live .
I lose everything.
” A Whole Foods worker in Southern California spent weeks organizing colleagues to strike on May 1 , as the number of coronavirus cases have increased at stores .
The worker said that managers — even those sympathetic to their demands @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ’ s corporate office .
The strike , like the sickout last month , is the only way that employees can get concessions from the company , said the worker : “ Nothing happens unless they see their bottom line affected.
” Whole Worker , the group that advocates for Whole Foods workers rights , has compiled its own list of positive coronavirus cases at Whole Foods stores in a document shared with The Intercept .
According to the group , there have been a total of 249 cases in at least 131 @ @ @ @ @ @ @ worker in southern Virginia and liaison with Target Workers Unite , said the May 1 strike is the first collective action by Target employees in the company ’ s nearly 60-year history .
Ryan said , “ It ’ s up to us to fight for ourselves .
”

An unprecedented coalition of workers from some of America’s largest companies will strike on Friday. Workers from Amazon, Instacart, Whole Foods, Walmart, Target, and FedEx are slated to walk out on work, citing what they say is their employers’ record profits at the expense of workers’ health and safety during the coronavirus pandemic.
The employees will call out sick or walk off the job during their lunch break, according to a press release set to be published by organizers on Wednesday. In some locations, rank-and-file union members will join workers outside their warehouses and storefronts to support the demonstrations.
“We are acting in conjunction with workers at Amazon, Target, Instacart and other companies for International Worker’s Day to show solidarity with other essential workers in our struggle for better protections and benefits in the pandemic,” said Daniel Steinbrook, a Whole Foods employee and strike organizer.
“These workers have been exploited so shamelessly for so long by these companies while performing incredibly important, but largely invisible labor.”
The labor action comes as workers and organizers say Amazon, in particular, has not been forthcoming about the number of Covid-19 cases at its more than 175 fulfillment centers globally.
Jana Jumpp, an Indiana Amazon employee, along with her small team of fellow Amazon workers, has over the last month tallied Covid-19 cases at Amazon warehouses in the U.S. According to Jumpp, there have been at least 500 coronavirus cases in at least 125 Amazon facilities.
Jumpp suspects that the number is much higher, but says this is what she and her team have been able to directly confirm through their sourcing, which includes screenshots of internal company texts and voicemails to employees when cases have arisen, in addition to messages received from Amazon workers on private Facebook groups. The numbers, which have not been previously reported, are the most comprehensive to this point.
Amazon declined to comment on the numbers of sick workers compiled by organizers. “While we respect people’s right to express themselves, we object to the irresponsible actions of labor groups in spreading misinformation and making false claims about Amazon during this unprecedented health and economic crisis,” said Amazon spokesperson Rachael Lighty. She added, “We have gone to extreme measures to understand and address this pandemic.”
The May 1 strike is the latest in a wave of actions led by union and nonunion front-line workers. Last month, Amazon workers in New York City and more than 10,000 Instacart workers across the country staged a walkout. Whole Foods employees led a national sickout on March 31, while upwards of 800 workers skipped their shifts at a Colorado meatpacking plant as coronavirus cases were confirmed among employees. Sanitation workers in Pittsburgh and bus drivers in Detroit both staged wildcat strikes.
“These workers have been exploited so shamelessly for so long by these companies while performing incredibly important but largely invisible labor,” said Stephen Brier, a labor historian and professor at the CUNY School of Labor and Urban Studies. “All of a sudden, they’re deemed essential workers in a pandemic, giving them tremendous leverage and power if they organize collectively.”
The workers coalition will unveil a set of demands. Among them are: compensation for all unpaid time off used since the beginning of the Covid-19 crisis in March; hazard pay or paid sick leave to be provided for the duration of the pandemic; protective equipment and all cleaning supplies to be provided at all times by the company; and a demand for full corporate transparency on the number of cases in facilities.
The workers chose May 1, International Workers Day, as a signal to workers everywhere that collectively, they can take on corporate behemoths, said Christian Smalls, a lead organizer of the strike. Amazon fired Smalls on March 30, only hours after he led his colleagues at a company warehouse in Staten Island, New York, on a walkout in protest of Amazon’s response to the pandemic. Amazon said Smalls was fired for violating a company-enforced quarantine.
The firing galvanized front-line workers everywhere, who sent dozens of messages daily to Smalls asking how they too could organize work stoppages to protest their workplace conditions. Smalls joined forces with workers rights groups like Amazonians United, Target Workers Unite, Whole Worker, and the Gig Workers Collective, among others.
The coalition organized the strike over the last several weeks on Zoom calls and encrypted messaging apps like Telegram and Signal. Civil rights icon Rev. Jesse Jackson joined in on one Zoom call to briefly address the organizers, offering the full support of his Rainbow Push network. “I am with you in your struggle,” Jackson told the call’s participants.
The Intercept spoke to 20 organizers from more than half a dozen states, reflecting the widespread nature of the strike. From Whole Foods workers in Boston to Instacart gig workers in Silicon Valley to Amazon warehouse organizers in Kentucky and Michigan, their stories and demands varied but together illustrated a pattern of corporate neglect toward workers now regarded as essential — alongside doctors, nurses, and EMT workers — during the coronavirus outbreak that has forced much of the nation into home lockdown.
“All of these workers are coming together and building power,” said Vanessa Bain, an Instacart worker and co-founder of the Gig Workers Collective, which counts more than 17,000 members and advocates for gig workers’ rights. “May Day is not just a one-time symbolic action, but also about building real, vast, and broad sweeping networks of power.”
Companies Not Doing Enough
Photo: Angela Weiss/AFP/Getty Images
The company that has faced the most sustained criticism throughout the outbreak has been Amazon, whose CEO Jeff Bezos has personally become $24 billion richer during the pandemic.
Last week, Amazon announced that it was ending its temporary policy of unlimited, unpaid time off on April 30. In response, on early Sunday morning, more than 50 Amazon workers in Minnesota walked out of a company warehouse in suburban Minneapolis to protest the move and decry their working conditions.
In March, Amazon announced plans to hire 100,000 workers to meet surging demand and to cover for workers who had taken out the unpaid leave over fears of exposure to the virus at their workplace. This month, the company announced plans for an additional 75,000 hires. For its part, Instacart hired 300,000 new shoppers in March alone — more than its entire existing workforce to that point — and last week announced that it would hire an additional 250,000 workers to meet the historic demand.
The hiring binge by Amazon and Instacart exposed the winners and losers in the pandemic, as businesses not deemed essential by the state fight mass layoffs, said Brier.
Critics say the opportunities to “cash in” on the pandemic have not come without risks. Pressured by worker protests and elected officials, companies granted some concessions to workers. Amazon, Walmart, and Target increased hourly pay by $2. Amazon now provides personal protective equipment at its facilities and more actively cleans workspaces, while Target has mandated its workers to wear masks after weeks of reports that they were reprimanded for doing so.
The Intercept reached out to all six companies targeted in Friday’s strike. FedEx and Walmart did not offer comments. Instacart said the company remained “singularly focused on the health and safety of the Instacart community.” In a statement, Target said it had taken many measures to ensure the safety of its employees and customers. Of the May Day strike, the company said, “While we take them seriously, the concerns raised are from a very small minority. The vast majority of our more than 340,000 frontline team members have expressed pride in the role they are playing in helping provide for families across the country during this time of need.”
After publication of this story, a spokesperson for Whole Foods said the company had taken measures to enhance its cleaning operations and impose policies to minimize the spread of coronavirus among its workers. “Our focus right now is ensuring the safety and wellbeing of our Team Members, which remains our top priority, while continuing to serve our customers and communities,” said the spokesperson.
A Staten Island Amazon worker, who requested anonymity for fear of retaliation from the company, has been on unpaid leave for more than a month. As someone with a number of underlying health conditions, the worker said contracting the virus would be “a death sentence.” They are surviving off meager savings and had to move into a friend’s home because they could no longer pay rent.
“They need to close down the warehouse and do a thorough, deep cleaning for it to be safe,” the worker told The Intercept. “If someone dies, they have blood on their hands.”
“If I miss one paycheck, it would mean I lose my vehicle, I lose my place to live. I lose everything.”
An Amazon worker in Detroit, who plans to call out sick on Friday, described a warehouse where, for weeks, there was no enforced social distancing and no gloves, masks, and hand sanitizer provided to workers, even as the city became a national coronavirus hot spot. Multiple colleagues confirmed the worker’s claims to The Intercept.
“You either come to work or take an unpaid leave of absence,” said the worker, who has a serious underlying health condition. “If I miss one paycheck, it would mean I lose my vehicle, I lose my place to live. I lose everything.”
A Whole Foods worker in Southern California spent weeks organizing colleagues to strike on May 1, as the number of coronavirus cases have increased at stores. The worker said that managers — even those sympathetic to their demands — are helpless against the Amazon subsidiary’s corporate office. The strike, like the sickout last month, is the only way that employees can get concessions from the company, said the worker: “Nothing happens unless they see their bottom line affected.”
Whole Worker, the group that advocates for Whole Foods workers rights, has compiled its own list of positive coronavirus cases at Whole Foods stores in a document shared with The Intercept. According to the group, there have been a total of 249 cases in at least 131 stores. (The Whole Foods spokesperson said, “Statements made by this group misrepresent the full extent of Whole Foods Market’s actions in response to this crisis and do not represent the collective voice of our more than 95,000 Team Members,” adding that the grocery giant was following guidance from authorities.)
Adam Ryan, a Target worker in southern Virginia and liaison with Target Workers Unite, said the May 1 strike is the first collective action by Target employees in the company’s nearly 60-year history.
Ryan said, “It’s up to us to fight for ourselves.”
Update: April 29, 2020
This story has been updated to include statements from Whole Foods received after publication.


theintercept--2020-04-28--Race, Trust, and the Chicago Police: The Investigation of Courtney Copeland’s Murder

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Before you go on about your day , ask yourself : How likely is it that the story @ @ @ @ @ been produced by a different news outlet if The Intercept hadn ’ t done it @ @ @ @ @ of media would look like without The Intercept .
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Subscribe to the Somebody podcast on Apple Podcasts, iHeart Radio, Google Play, Stitcher, and other platforms .
The new podcast Somebody documents Shapearl Wells’s quest to find out what happened to Courtney Copeland, her 22-year-old son who wound up with a bullet in his back outside a Chicago police station in 2016 and died soon after.
On April 30, Topic Studios, The Intercept, and Chicago-based journalism nonprofit Invisible Institute presented a live conversation and listening session focused on Shapearl’s experiences confronting Chicago Police and challenging the city’s long-standing racial disparities. The event was hosted by Intercept co-founding editor Jeremy Scahill and featured Somebody co-hosts Shapearl and Alison Flowers, a journalist at the Invisible Institute.


theintercept--2020-04-27--In Just Months, the Coronavirus Has Killed More Americans Than 20 Years of War in Vietnam

the Vietnam Veterans Memorial is now the most poignant monument on Washington , D.C. ’ s National Mall .
Designed in 1981 by a Yale undergraduate named Maya Lin , the memorial consists of polished black granite panels that form a 125-degree angle and are inscribed with the names of the U.S. military personnel dead from that conflict .
The two walls , low at the ends and high where they meet in the middle , list the deceased chronologically — an individual accounting , day by day , of each American life lost .
It took 20 years , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ United States to lose 58,220 men and women to the nation ’ s most divisive conflict since the Civil War .
In less than four months , just as many Americans have died from the Covid-19 pandemic — the toll , on Tuesday , hit 58,947 , surpassing the total number killed in Southeast Asia .
If this is indeed a war , as President Donald Trump has described it — in his words , “ We ’ re waging a war against the invisible enemy ” — a question can be asked @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of this conflict be memorialized ?
Will a president who staked his legacy on a “ big , beautiful wall ” along the Mexican border actually be remembered for a very different wall : one that bears the names of scores of thousands of Americans who died on his watch ?
This wall could be inscribed with the names of all those who perished on the front lines of this pandemic , like Vitalina Williams , a 59-year-old immigrant from Guatemala and grocery store worker in Massachusetts ; Ferdi German , 41 , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ subway car inspector in New York City ; Craig Franken , a 61-year-old – married for nearly 20 years – who worked at the Smithfield Foods meatpacking plant in Sioux Falls , South Dakota ; and four members of the Franklin family from New Orleans , 86-year-old Antoinette and her sons Herman , 71 , Timothy , 61 , and Anthony , 58 , who survived a previous cataclysm — Hurricane Katrina , associated with ( and exacerbated by ) a prior U.S. president — only to succumb to another disaster , 15 @ @ @ @ @ @ @ health care workers , the doctors , nurses , EMTs , and other medical professionals who — like so many of the Army medics and Navy corpsmen whose names appear on the Vietnam Veterans Memorial — ran toward danger and sacrificed their lives in an effort to save their fellow Americans .
These courageous people include Celia Yap-Banago , 69 , an immigrant from the Philippines who spent nearly 40 years as a nurse at the Research Medical Center in Kansas City , Missouri and fell ill after caring for a patient believed @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , a 61-year-old Indian immigrant who worked as a physician ’ s assistant at Woodhull Hospital in Brooklyn , New York , and treated Covid-19 patients wearing only a surgical mask .
It took two 200-foot walls made up of 70 separate panels to list the more than 58,000 dead on the Vietnam Veterans Memorial .
Just how many names — of grocery store employees , warehouse workers , delivery drivers , custodians , meatpacking plant workers , doctors , nurses , and EMTs — will need to be etched into a Covid-19 @ @ @ @ @ @ @ years .
Some projections put the total number at more than 67,000 Covid-19 deaths by August .
The White House previously warned of the possibility of as many as 240,000 fatalities .
Some estimates put the number at 300,000 Americans lost to the disease over the next several years .
For now , we need to keep counting the fallen and begin thinking about how to memorialize all the heartache , all the deaths faced alone , all the bodies consigned to mass graves , all the lives lost too soon .
We @ @ @ @ @ @ @ America ’ s Covid-19 casualties would be big , far too big .
And we know , however poignant the design , however it stirs the soul , however iconic it becomes , there ’ s never going to be anything beautiful about it .
Nick Turse , a contributing writer for The Intercept , is the author of “ Kill Anything That Moves : The Real American War in Vietnam.
” Update : April 28 , 2020 This story has been updated to note that the Covid-19 death toll has now surpassed @ @ @ @ @

Photo: Drew Angerer/Getty Images
Born in controversy, the Vietnam Veterans Memorial is now the most poignant monument on Washington, D.C.’s National Mall. Designed in 1981 by a Yale undergraduate named Maya Lin, the memorial consists of polished black granite panels that form a 125-degree angle and are inscribed with the names of the U.S. military personnel dead from that conflict. The two walls, low at the ends and high where they meet in the middle, list the deceased chronologically — an individual accounting, day by day, of each American life lost.
It took 20 years, from 1955 to 1975, for the United States to lose 58,220 men and women to the nation’s most divisive conflict since the Civil War. In less than four months, just as many Americans have died from the Covid-19 pandemic — the toll, on Tuesday, hit 58,947, surpassing the total number killed in Southeast Asia. If this is indeed a war, as President Donald Trump has described it — in his words, “We’re waging a war against the invisible enemy” — a question can be asked: Where and how will the dead of this conflict be memorialized?
Will a president who staked his legacy on a “big, beautiful wall” along the Mexican border actually be remembered for a very different wall: one that bears the names of scores of thousands of Americans who died on his watch? This wall could be inscribed with the names of all those who perished on the front lines of this pandemic, like Vitalina Williams, a 59-year-old immigrant from Guatemala and grocery store worker in Massachusetts; Ferdi German, 41, an Army veteran who worked as a subway car inspector in New York City; Craig Franken, a 61-year-old – married for nearly 20 years – who worked at the Smithfield Foods meatpacking plant in Sioux Falls, South Dakota; and four members of the Franklin family from New Orleans, 86-year-old Antoinette and her sons Herman, 71, Timothy, 61, and Anthony, 58, who survived a previous cataclysm — Hurricane Katrina, associated with (and exacerbated by) a prior U.S. president — only to succumb to another disaster, 15 years later.
Then there are the health care workers, the doctors, nurses, EMTs, and other medical professionals who — like so many of the Army medics and Navy corpsmen whose names appear on the Vietnam Veterans Memorial — ran toward danger and sacrificed their lives in an effort to save their fellow Americans. These courageous people include Celia Yap-Banago, 69, an immigrant from the Philippines who spent nearly 40 years as a nurse at the Research Medical Center in Kansas City, Missouri and fell ill after caring for a patient believed to have had Covid-19 and Madhvi Aya, a 61-year-old Indian immigrant who worked as a physician’s assistant at Woodhull Hospital in Brooklyn, New York, and treated Covid-19 patients wearing only a surgical mask.
Read Our Complete Coverage The Coronavirus Crisis
About 300 feet from the Vietnam Veterans Memorial stands a sculpture made by Glenna Goodacre, who died, at age 80, on April 13. Modeled after Michelangelo’s “Pietà,” it depicts three women in uniform surrounding — and one of them gently cradling — a wounded male GI. “The emphasis of this tribute is centered on their emotions — their compassion, their anxiety, their fatigue, and above all, their dedication,” said Goodacre when the statue was unveiled. Could there be a better template for a sculpture honoring the efforts of health care workers like Yap-Banago and Aya to accompany a wall memorializing the fallen of this pandemic?
For years, American presidents touted progress during the disastrous war in Vietnam. “We can rightly judge … that the progress of the past three years would have been far less likely, if not completely impossible, if America’s sons and others had not made their stand in Vietnam,” said President Lyndon Johnson in March 1968. In August 1972, his successor, Richard Nixon, said: “I pledged to seek an honorable end to the war in Vietnam. We have made great progress toward that end.” Trump has repeatedly revived the Vietnam War-tainted phrase “light at the end of the tunnel” during this pandemic and similarly claimed headway despite the increasing deaths. “As we continue our battle against the virus, the data and facts on the ground suggest that we’re making great progress,” he said recently during his own version of the 5 o’clock follies.
Last week, Trump suggested that the death toll of the Covid-19 pandemic might top out at 50,000 American lives lost. “We did the right thing, because if we didn’t do it, you would have had a million people, a million and a half people, maybe 2 million people dead,” he said. “Now, we’re going toward 50, I’m hearing, or 60,000 people.” An April 20 prediction of an American death toll of 50,000 was as unrealistic as Trump’s baseless January claim that “we have [Covid-19] totally under control,” and his February fictions that the virus “will go away in April” and “within a couple of days [the number of Americans with Covid-19] is going to be down to close to zero.”
Earlier this month, at one of his coronavirus press briefings, Trump also touted the fruits of his efforts along the Mexican border. “We’re up to about 168 miles of wall,” he boasted. But having devoted far more time and energy over the past three years to that project than to pandemic preparedness, the body count of Americans killed by Covid-19 during his tenure has, in four months, exceeded two decades of armed conflict in Southeast Asia. (The number of Vietnamese civilians killed during those years is estimated at about 2 million, nearly the same as the worst-case scenario forecast of U.S. deaths without efforts to slow the coronavirus through social distancing.)
It took two 200-foot walls made up of 70 separate panels to list the more than 58,000 dead on the Vietnam Veterans Memorial. Just how many names — of grocery store employees, warehouse workers, delivery drivers, custodians, meatpacking plant workers, doctors, nurses, and EMTs — will need to be etched into a Covid-19 memorial won’t be known for years. Some projections put the total number at more than 67,000 Covid-19 deaths by August. The White House previously warned of the possibility of as many as 240,000 fatalities. Some estimates put the number at 300,000 Americans lost to the disease over the next several years.
For now, we need to keep counting the fallen and begin thinking about how to memorialize all the heartache, all the deaths faced alone, all the bodies consigned to mass graves, all the lives lost too soon. We already know that a wall to honor America’s Covid-19 casualties would be big, far too big. And we know, however poignant the design, however it stirs the soul, however iconic it becomes, there’s never going to be anything beautiful about it.
Nick Turse, a contributing writer for The Intercept, is the author of “Kill Anything That Moves: The Real American War in Vietnam.”
Update: April 28, 2020
This story has been updated to note that the Covid-19 death toll has now surpassed the Vietnam War toll.


theintercept--2020-04-29--Small Farms, Already Stressed and Underfunded, Struggle for Federal Coronavirus Relief

farmers in the U.S. were already hurting from years of falling food prices , severe weather , and , more recently , President Donald Trump ’ s trade war .
“ We ’ ve had a record number of farm bankruptcies [ in the U.S. ] , total farm debt is at $ 425 billion , [ and farmer ] incomes have fallen by about half since 2013 , ” said Eric Deeble , policy director at the National Sustainable Agriculture Coalition , which supports small and mid-sized family farms .
Now , with the global pandemic closing factories and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ stressed farms are grappling with lower demand and fewer markets to sell in , as well as a presidential administration that favors relief for big businesses over small .
Small farmers in particular — those who sell directly to farmers markets , schools , and other local food hubs — are facing an existential crisis , as they face slim odds of accessing competitive federal stimulus money .
They have reason to be pessimistic .
In recent years , federal subsidies to help struggling farmers have flowed almost exclusively to large corporate farms @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the Trump administration has distributed to food producers to offset losses from his trade wars , almost all went to big farms .
Advocates for small farmers say this is driven in part by the preference of Trump ’ s agriculture secretary , Sonny Purdue , who has encouraged farmers to get bigger farms if they wanted to stay in business .
“ Big get bigger and small go out … and that ’ s what we ’ ve seen , ” he told a group of Wisconsin dairy farmers in 2018 , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , who infamously told farmers in the 1970s to “ get big or get out.
” While 91 percent of U.S. farms are small — defined by the federal government as an operation with gross cash income under $ 250,000 — large farms account for 85 percent of the country ’ s farm production .
The public health crisis has already had a devastating impact on agriculture across the country .
A report released in mid-March by the National Sustainable Agriculture Coalition estimated that small farms would see a $ 689 million decline @ @ @ @ @ @ @ year due to Covid-19 , leading to a payroll decline of $ 103 million and a total loss to the economy of $ 1.3 billion .
Now , as the pandemic shows no sign of slowing , the coalition worries that the impact for small farmers will be even more substantial — which could lead many small farms to permanently close .
Under pressure from groups like the National Sustainable Agriculture Coalition and the National Farmers Union , Congress did work to address some of the needs of small and direct-market farmers in @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Relief , and Economic Security , or CARES , Act , signed into law on March 27 .
While lawmakers did not include all that advocates pressed for — like emergency food purchases from small processors and direct payments to small farms — the CARES Act did allocate $ 9.5 billion to farmers and said some ( unspecified portion ) of that amount should go to “ producers that supply local food systems , including farmers markets , restaurants , and schools.
” But in the weeks following the CARES Act , farmers @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the agriculture aid stalled and many farmers found themselves ineligible for the Small Business Administration emergency loans .
On April 10 , 33 senators sent a bipartisan letter to Purdue , urging the USDA to follow the CARES Act and distribute federal aid to small farmers specifically .
A week later , when the USDA finally announced how it planned to allocate the $ 9.5 billion from the CARES Act , it appeared that no money would be reserved specifically for small farmers .
In a statement provided to The Intercept , a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ provide assistance to “ most farms ” that experienced at least a 5 percent loss .
To ensure that funding will help small farms , the USDA said it “ is utilizing payment limits and [ adjusted gross income ] eligibility criteria that were used by Congress when developing the 2018 Farm Bill ” — the same bill that left small farmers in the lurch over the last two years .
The spokesperson also said that the USDA planned to use a $ 900,000 AGI limit for those who do not make 75 @ @ @ @ @ @ @ farming — a notably high threshold considering that small farmers earn between $ 1,000 and $ 250,000 from their farms .
“ Bailout money always goes to the big farmers , the people who produce soy and crops and sell into commodity markets , ” said John Peck , executive director of Family Farm Defenders , a national organization that supports sustainable agriculture .
“ This is all part of our country ’ s cheap food policy where we basically subsidize capital-intensive , large-scale industrial farming.
” Farmers who sell directly to consumers @ @ @ @ @ @ @ don ’ t rely on federal subsidies .
“ Small diversified farmers are pretty effective at doing what they do , which is finding markets and filling them , and haven ’ t required a lot of support , ” said Deeble .
“ But the flip side is if you ’ re usually good in normal times and don ’ t rely much on the government , it can be harder to get government help when you need it.
” J.D .
Scholten , a Democratic House candidate running in Iowa ’ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ’ s still a lot of uncertainty about how the federal stimulus money will be allocated , “ but what we ’ ve seen [ since the trade wars ] is that Secretary Purdue gets to dictate who gets bailed out and who doesn ’ t , and there ’ s not a lot of oversight.
” Colby Ferguson , a small farmer and the director of government and public relations for the Maryland Farm Bureau , defended the bulk of federal subsidies flowing to large farms .
“ They should get most @ @ @ @ @ @ @ most volume of our food supply , ” he said .
“ If we didn ’ t help the big guys , that would also affect the small guys.
” The Farmers Market Coalition , a nonprofit that supports local markets across the country , has also been pushing for emergency aid and a federal declaration that farmers markets should be allowed to operate as essential businesses .
( California has deemed farmers markets essential , but other states have shut them down or left it more ambiguous . )
Advocates say open-air @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to buy groceries during the pandemic .
“ If farmers markets go out of business that means local farmers lose access to those consumers , ” said Ben Feldman , executive director for the Farmers Market Coalition .
While American food purchasing has swiftly shifted during the pandemic from restaurants to grocery stores , it is typically much harder for small farmers to sell their products to large grocery stores .
“ I don ’ t want to be alarmist , because farmers market operators , like the farmers who sell to them @ @ @ @ @ @ @ do an incredible amount with very limited resources , ” said Feldman .
“ But this could definitely force markets to close.
” According to the USDA , local food sales more than doubled between 2012 and 2017 .
But profit margins for small farmers remain low or nonexistent , and most small farmers also have other jobs .
Peck of Family Farm Defenders said he worries this pandemic will be exploited by big corporations to crush the local food movement and correspondingly wreak further damage on the climate .
“ To feed @ @ @ @ @ @ @ we need to move away from industrial agribusiness , ” he said .
Some advocates say they ’ re cautiously optimistic that the next stimulus bill could offer more help to small farmers and noted that there ’ s been growing public awareness of the risks posed by our global supply chain and the need to invest in a more resilient food system .
Scholten , who has been sounding the alarm for years about the risks of monopolized agriculture , said the pandemic exposes how “ dangerously dependent ” we are on @ @ @ @ @ @ @ these ‘ get big or get off the farm ’ policies for years , ” he said .
“ But I think there ’ s huge potential now to regionalize our food production , localize it.
” “ In the 4th District of Iowa , the second-most agricultural producing district in the nation , we have only two farm-to-table restaurants ; we have small towns losing their grocery stores because Dollar General is coming in and undercutting them , but they don ’ t sell fresh produce and meats , and we have @ @ @ @ @ @ @ he said .
“ So who are we doing this [ production ] all for ?
”

Before coronavirus hit, farmers in the U.S. were already hurting from years of falling food prices, severe weather, and, more recently, President Donald Trump’s trade war. “We’ve had a record number of farm bankruptcies [in the U.S.], total farm debt is at $425 billion, [and farmer] incomes have fallen by about half since 2013,” said Eric Deeble, policy director at the National Sustainable Agriculture Coalition, which supports small and mid-sized family farms.
Now, with the global pandemic closing factories and restaurants and disrupting supply chains, already stressed farms are grappling with lower demand and fewer markets to sell in, as well as a presidential administration that favors relief for big businesses over small. Small farmers in particular — those who sell directly to farmers markets, schools, and other local food hubs — are facing an existential crisis, as they face slim odds of accessing competitive federal stimulus money.
They have reason to be pessimistic. In recent years, federal subsidies to help struggling farmers have flowed almost exclusively to large corporate farms. Of the roughly $28 billion the Trump administration has distributed to food producers to offset losses from his trade wars, almost all went to big farms.
Advocates for small farmers say this is driven in part by the preference of Trump’s agriculture secretary, Sonny Purdue, who has encouraged farmers to get bigger farms if they wanted to stay in business. “Big get bigger and small go out … and that’s what we’ve seen,” he told a group of Wisconsin dairy farmers in 2018, echoing Richard Nixon’s agriculture secretary, who infamously told farmers in the 1970s to “get big or get out.” While 91 percent of U.S. farms are small — defined by the federal government as an operation with gross cash income under $250,000 — large farms account for 85 percent of the country’s farm production.
The public health crisis has already had a devastating impact on agriculture across the country. A report released in mid-March by the National Sustainable Agriculture Coalition estimated that small farms would see a $689 million decline in sales from March to May this year due to Covid-19, leading to a payroll decline of $103 million and a total loss to the economy of $1.3 billion. Now, as the pandemic shows no sign of slowing, the coalition worries that the impact for small farmers will be even more substantial — which could lead many small farms to permanently close.
Under pressure from groups like the National Sustainable Agriculture Coalition and the National Farmers Union, Congress did work to address some of the needs of small and direct-market farmers in the $2 trillion Coronavirus Aid, Relief, and Economic Security, or CARES, Act, signed into law on March 27. While lawmakers did not include all that advocates pressed for — like emergency food purchases from small processors and direct payments to small farms — the CARES Act did allocate $9.5 billion to farmers and said some (unspecified portion) of that amount should go to “producers that supply local food systems, including farmers markets, restaurants, and schools.”
But in the weeks following the CARES Act, farmers struggled to access any relief, as the agriculture aid stalled and many farmers found themselves ineligible for the Small Business Administration emergency loans. On April 10, 33 senators sent a bipartisan letter to Purdue, urging the USDA to follow the CARES Act and distribute federal aid to small farmers specifically. A week later, when the USDA finally announced how it planned to allocate the $9.5 billion from the CARES Act, it appeared that no money would be reserved specifically for small farmers.
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In a statement provided to The Intercept, a USDA spokesperson said the department planned to provide assistance to “most farms” that experienced at least a 5 percent loss. To ensure that funding will help small farms, the USDA said it “is utilizing payment limits and [adjusted gross income] eligibility criteria that were used by Congress when developing the 2018 Farm Bill” — the same bill that left small farmers in the lurch over the last two years. The spokesperson also said that the USDA planned to use a $900,000 AGI limit for those who do not make 75 percent or more of their income from farming — a notably high threshold considering that small farmers earn between $1,000 and $250,000 from their farms.
“Bailout money always goes to the big farmers, the people who produce soy and crops and sell into commodity markets,” said John Peck, executive director of Family Farm Defenders, a national organization that supports sustainable agriculture. “This is all part of our country’s cheap food policy where we basically subsidize capital-intensive, large-scale industrial farming.”
Farmers who sell directly to consumers or participate in regional food hubs typically don’t rely on federal subsidies.
“Small diversified farmers are pretty effective at doing what they do, which is finding markets and filling them, and haven’t required a lot of support,” said Deeble. “But the flip side is if you’re usually good in normal times and don’t rely much on the government, it can be harder to get government help when you need it.”
J.D. Scholten, a Democratic House candidate running in Iowa’s 4th Congressional District, said there’s still a lot of uncertainty about how the federal stimulus money will be allocated, “but what we’ve seen [since the trade wars] is that Secretary Purdue gets to dictate who gets bailed out and who doesn’t, and there’s not a lot of oversight.”
Colby Ferguson, a small farmer and the director of government and public relations for the Maryland Farm Bureau, defended the bulk of federal subsidies flowing to large farms. “They should get most of the money since they generate the most volume of our food supply,” he said. “If we didn’t help the big guys, that would also affect the small guys.”
The Farmers Market Coalition, a nonprofit that supports local markets across the country, has also been pushing for emergency aid and a federal declaration that farmers markets should be allowed to operate as essential businesses. (California has deemed farmers markets essential, but other states have shut them down or left it more ambiguous.) Advocates say open-air markets can serve as a safer way to buy groceries during the pandemic.
“If farmers markets go out of business that means local farmers lose access to those consumers,” said Ben Feldman, executive director for the Farmers Market Coalition. While American food purchasing has swiftly shifted during the pandemic from restaurants to grocery stores, it is typically much harder for small farmers to sell their products to large grocery stores.
Photo: David Paul Morris/Bloomberg/Getty Images
“I don’t want to be alarmist, because farmers market operators, like the farmers who sell to them, are very resilient and adaptable and do an incredible amount with very limited resources,” said Feldman. “But this could definitely force markets to close.”
According to the USDA, local food sales more than doubled between 2012 and 2017. But profit margins for small farmers remain low or nonexistent, and most small farmers also have other jobs.
Peck of Family Farm Defenders said he worries this pandemic will be exploited by big corporations to crush the local food movement and correspondingly wreak further damage on the climate. “To feed the world and cool the planet, we need to move away from industrial agribusiness,” he said.
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Some advocates say they’re cautiously optimistic that the next stimulus bill could offer more help to small farmers and noted that there’s been growing public awareness of the risks posed by our global supply chain and the need to invest in a more resilient food system.
Scholten, who has been sounding the alarm for years about the risks of monopolized agriculture, said the pandemic exposes how “dangerously dependent” we are on imports. “We’ve had these ‘get big or get off the farm’ policies for years,” he said. “But I think there’s huge potential now to regionalize our food production, localize it.”
“In the 4th District of Iowa, the second-most agricultural producing district in the nation, we have only two farm-to-table restaurants; we have small towns losing their grocery stores because Dollar General is coming in and undercutting them, but they don’t sell fresh produce and meats, and we have farmers not making a dime,” he said. “So who are we doing this [production] all for?”