NASHVILLE — Kilmar Abrego Garcia, who was wrongfully deported from the United States to his native El Salvador and whose case became an intensely watched focus of President Trump’s immigration crackdown, has been moved from a Virginia detention center to a facility in Pennsylvania.
Court records show Immigration and Customs Enforcement notified Abrego Garcia’s lawyers Friday that he was transferred to the Moshannon Valley Processing Center in Philipsburg. It said the location would make it easier for the attorneys to access him.
But his attorneys raised concerns about conditions at Moshannon, saying there have been recent reports of “assaults, inadequate medical care, and insufficient food,” according to a federal court filing.
The Trump administration has claimed that Abrego Garcia was a member of the MS-13 gang, an allegation that he denies and for which he was not charged.
The administration returned Abrego Garcia to the U.S. in June, but only to face human smuggling charges. His lawyers have called the case preposterous and vindictive.
LA QUINTA — Briana Ortega had been home for all of three minutes when she heard a fist pounding against her door.
She opened it to find a Riverside County sheriff’s deputy “claiming a black man with dreadlocks had jumped over her backyard fence” and was trying to break into her La Quinta home, according to court records.
Almost immediately, Ortega, 29, suspected Deputy Eric Piscatella was there for other reasons. The encounter last summer wasn’t the first time they’d met. It wasn’t even the first time he’d shown up at her home unannounced, according to an arrest affidavit and claims in a civil lawsuit.
“You look pretty without makeup … sorry I don’t mean to be rude or unprofessional,” Piscatella said, after spending a scant few seconds looking out a window for the purported suspect, according to a recording of the incident.
It was the fourth time in less than a year that Piscatella had either shown up at Ortega’s home or contacted her without a legitimate law enforcement purpose, according to the affidavit and lawsuit. Ortega shared text messages showing the deputy tried to flirt with her and ask her out on dates, but she rebuffed him at every turn.
A former Riverside County sheriff’s deputy is accused in a lawsuit of using law enforcement resources to pursue a woman he met at a public event.
(Gary Coronado/Los Angeles Times)
Last year, Riverside County prosecutors charged Piscatella, 30, with seven counts of illegally using law enforcement databases to look up information about Ortega.
But instead of resolving the situation, Ortega says, the way Piscatella’s case played out in criminal court has only prolonged her ordeal.
Ortega said she remains “terrified” of Piscatella and declined to testify against him. In July, a Riverside County judge downgraded all charges against Piscatella to misdemeanors. He pleaded guilty and received probation, avoiding jail time.
Riverside County Sheriff Chad Bianco kicks off his campaign to run for governor at Avila’s Historic 1929 center on Feb. 17 in Riverside.
(Gina Ferazzi/Los Angeles Times)
“I feel like with him getting the misdemeanor, nothing is ever going to change… If it takes me having to [file this lawsuit], I will, if it helps,” she said.
Piscatella declined to comment through his defense attorney.
A spokesperson for the Riverside County Sheriff’s Department said Piscatella resigned last October after roughly five years on the job. His ability to work as a police officer in California is suspended, accreditation records show, but without a felony conviction it could be restored.
Ortega recalled her first run-in with Piscatella as innocent enough.
She was attending what she described as a “family fair,” with her two sons in Coachella in September 2023, enjoying amusement rides and carnival games when she said her oldest son ran up to a group of sheriff’s deputies who were giving out stickers. Piscatella was among them, according to Ortega, who said they had a polite but forgettable conversation.
They did not exchange contact information, but a few months later, in January of 2024, Ortega said, she got a text from an unknown number.
The texter claimed to be her “personal officer.” A fitness influencer with more than 100,000 followers on TikTok and Instagram, Ortega gets random flirtatious messages from men. So she shrugged it off.
That same month, Piscatella searched Ortega’s name and the city of La Quinta in both the California Law Enforcement Telecommunications System and other sheriff’s databases shortly before the texts were sent, according to court records. In Ortega’s civil suit, she alleged this was how Piscatella tracked her down.
One month later, Piscatella showed up at Ortega’s La Quinta home while she was at work, according to her lawsuit. Her mother answered the door, and was “alarmed” when the deputy questioned where her daughter was. Still, Ortega wasn’t bothered.
“I’m like, he’s a cop, he can’t be that crazy. He’s on the force for a reason … of course he knows where I live,” she said.
Echoing claims in her lawsuit, she added: “I’m not thinking he’s going to continue to look for me or stalk me. If I would have known, I would have complained.”
Ortega was so unfazed that she actually went to Piscatella for help a month later. Her younger sister had been the victim of an assault and was struggling to get attention from the Sheriff’s Department. So Ortega contacted the man who claimed to be her “personal officer.”
But when Ortega began describing the purported crime, Piscatella responded by asking her to send a “selfie” and insisting they should go to the gym together. Annoyed, Ortega eventually changed her number when instead of help, all she got was a picture of Piscatella wearing Sheriff’s Department clothes, according to text messages.
Court records show Piscatella continued to use law enforcement databases to keep tabs on Ortega in the months that followed. In May 2024, he searched her name and ran her license plate, according to court records. He did the same in July, right before showing up at Ortega’s house, claiming he saw the man with dreadlocks break in.
At that point, Piscatella’s interest in Ortega had turned into an “obsession,” according to her lawsuit. Since he arrived just minutes after she’d returned from a trip to San Diego, Ortega said it felt like Piscatella was “waiting for me.” She alleges in her lawsuit that the deputy “used law enforcement resources and databases … to stalk her.”
After letting him in, she surreptitiously recorded the deputy standing in her living room, talking to her children. In the lawsuit, Ortega said she was “confused, scared and uncomfortable,” especially after Piscatella asked for her new number, which she gave him out of “fear.”
Piscatella texted her a short time later, according to messages reviewed by The Times, describing her kids as “so cool.”
“I don’t feel comfortable with everything that just happened. Please do not contact me again,” Ortega wrote back.
Briana Ortega filed a lawsuit alleging that she has been living in fear of a former Riverside County sheriff’s deputy.
(Gina Ferazzi/Los Angeles Times)
She made a complaint to the Sheriff’s Department the same day. Court records show the department launched an internal investigation and quickly determined Piscatella had used law enforcement databases to look up information on Ortega several times, according to an affidavit seeking a warrant for his arrest.
The affidavit shows there was “no corresponding call for service” related to the day Piscatella showed up at Ortega’s home and claimed someone was breaking in.
Riverside County prosecutors filed seven felony charges against Piscatella.
Ortega said she refused to testify because, even though the Sheriff’s Department had presented a case against one of their own, she feared Piscatella or a fellow deputy might seek retribution against her.
At a July court hearing in Indio, Piscatella made an open plea to the court seeking to downgrade each charge to a misdemeanor and avoid jail time, according to a transcript of the proceeding.
Riverside County Deputy Dist. Atty. Natasha Sorace pleaded with Superior Court Judge Helios J. Hernandez not to accept the lesser charges.
“The defendant was a police officer — a sheriff’s deputy, who used his position of power and the information he had access to as a result of that position to put someone in the community in significant fear for their safety,” Sorace said.
“He searched information — conducted a search about a particular individual and used that information to come up with an excuse to get into that woman’s house, where he proceeded to hit on her and make her feel uncomfortable in her own on home.”
But Hernandez rebuffed her attempts to argue the point further. In his view, “nothing actually happened.”
“He never, like, broke into the house or threatened her,” Hernandez said, according to a transcript of the hearing.
Hernandez sentenced Piscatella to probation and community service and ordered him to stay away from Ortega. Records show prosecutors have appealed the decision.
A spokeswoman for the district attorney’s office would not say if Ortega’s refusal to testify affected their ability to bring other charges, including the stalking allegation she made in the civil suit.
The Riverside County Sheriff’s Department’s spokesperson declined to comment on the pending litigation.
The entire ordeal left Ortega feeling like law enforcement failed her at every level. She noted that Piscatella still knows where she lives.
While she previously did not hold a negative view of police, now she says she turns the other direction and grows anxious anytime she sees a Sheriff’s Department cruiser.
“It’s a betrayal of trust from law enforcement … who do you call when it’s the police who are the problem?” asked her attorney, Jamal Tooson. “When can you ever feel safe? You almost feel trapped, in your own house.”
SALT LAKE CITY — Authorities in Utah say two men have been arrested on suspicion of placing an incendiary device under a news media vehicle in Salt Lake City. The bomb didn’t go off.
Police and fire department bomb squads responded Friday when a suspicious device was found under the vehicle parked near an occupied building.
Investigators determined the bomb “had been lit but failed to function as designed,” according to court records cited by CBS affiliate KUTV on Sunday.
The FBI identified two suspects and served a search warrant at a home in the Magna neighborhood west of the city’s downtown. Two men, ages 58 and 31, were arrested and could face charges related to weapons possession and threats of terrorism, ABC affiliate KTVX reported Sunday.
Neighboring homes were evacuated during the search, which turned up explosives and “explosive-related components,” firearms, illegal narcotics and other paraphernalia, court records say. Authorities say they also found at least two devices that turned out to be hoax weapons of mass destruction.
There was no information about a possible motive and the relationship between the two suspects wasn’t immediately known.
News media have descended on Salt Lake City following last week’s killing of Turning Point USA co-founder Charlie Kirk at Utah Valley University in nearby Orem.
On the night Los Angeles police claim he carried out an act of gangland vengeance, Oscar Eagle could barely walk.
In March 1998, Eagle was only 17 and using crutches to get around after he was wounded in a drive-by shooting. The bullet is still in his leg to this day, marked by a coin-shaped indentation on his calf.
At the same time that police allege Eagle opened fire on an 18th Street gang member in an act of retribution, he says he was at an East L.A. hospital because a friend’s cousin was giving birth, according to court records.
Oscar Eagle in his childhood neighborhood of Pico-Union in 1996.
(Courtesy of Megan Baca)
Eagle knew he was innocent. Witnesses placed him at the hospital and he said medical records could prove he wasn’t mobile enough to carry out the crime.
But a combination of dubious legal representation and an arrest made by members of a notoriously corrupt unit in the Los Angeles Police Department saw Eagle sentenced to 25-years-to-life in prison.
In July, a judge granted a joint motion from the California Innocence Project and the L.A. County district attorney’s office to vacate Eagle’s conviction, citing ineffective assistance of counsel and questions about the behavior of LAPD detectives on the case.
For reform advocates, Eagle’s case epitomizes the problem with prosecuting teens as adults, but it also marks a positive sign for the L.A. County district attorney’s office’s conviction review unit under Nathan Hochman, who personally appeared at the hearing where Eagle was set free.
“This is what I’ve been dreaming of every day,” a tearful Eagle, 45, said during an interview in late July.
Pelican Bay State Prison in Crescent City, California is surrounded by razor wire, tall fences and towers manned by guards with rifles.
(Mark Boster / Los Angeles Times)
Formed in 2015 and expanded under former Dist. Atty. George Gascón, Hochman has shown a continued commitment to the conviction review unit. After facing criticism for recording just four exonerations from 2015 to 2020, the unit has been involved in 12 in just the last four years, according to a district attorney’s office spokesperson.
“I think that a D.A. sends a strong message when you appear in court, that it’s both a case of serious concern to the D.A.’s office, and it’s one where you want to see justice done,” Hochman said.
Seeing L.A. County’s top prosecutor personally endorse his release is a stark turnaround for Eagle, who spent most of his life believing police would do anything to keep him behind bars.
After entering California’s adult prison system as a teenager, Eagle said he watched a friend die in a riot at Pelican Bay. He spent years in isolation after he says he was erroneously connected to the Mexican Mafia. Both of his parents died while Eagle was locked up, and he can’t even mention their names without tearing up to this day.
Eagle said he grew up in a section of Pico-Union where all his neighbors were affiliated with a local gang set, the Burlington Locos. A young tagger who went by “Clown,” he too wound up part of the crew.
In the late 1990s, Eagle became a target of detectives with an infamous LAPD unit known as C.R.A.S.H., short for Community Resources Against Street Hoodlums.
At the time, the LAPD’s Rampart division was home to C.R.A.S.H. officers who falsified reports and framed civilians, later triggering a scandal that ended with the U.S. Department of Justice placing the LAPD under a consent decree.
Officers watch from inside the front entrance of the LAPD’s Rampart Station in the Westlake district in 2010 as protesters demonstrate outside against police brutality.
(Reed Saxon / Associated Press)
Eagle says that in 1996 he was wrongfully arrested for gun possession as a juvenile by Rafael Perez, the central figure of the Rampart scandal. Perez later admitted the report that led to Eagle’s first arrest was falsified, according to court records.
But it was Eagle’s next run-in with police that proved far more consequential.
In March 1998, 18th Street Gang member Benjamin Urias was shot twice on Burlington Avenue in what police believed to be retribution for a prior attack on a Burlington Locos member, court records show. Urias, who was hospitalized for two days and released, told police the shooter walked with a limp.
Investigators from a C.R.A.S.H. unit based in Rampart locked onto Eagle, due to his gang connections and the fact that he was said to be walking with a limp after he was injured in a shooting, according to his attorney, Megan Baca, of the California Innocence Project.
Charges against Eagle were initially dismissed after Urias failed to show up for a preliminary hearing. But a month later, LAPD homicide detectives Thomas Murrell and Kenneth Wiseman prodded the shooting victim to pick Eagle out of a photo lineup, according to the motion to vacate his conviction.
Urias initially told police he did not recognize anyone in the lineup, records show.
“OK, circle that guy … Number 4 is the one you were pointing to,” Murrell said to Urias, according to a recording of the interview described in court records.
An LAPD spokesperson declined to comment. The audio recording that called the validity of the identification into question was never raised at Eagle’s trial, according to Baca.
Despite concerns about the behavior of the detectives, Hochman said he was not immediately ordering a review of other cases involving Murrell and Wiseman. Neither Rampart detective was part of a C.R.A.S.H. unit.
Murrell denied any wrongdoing and told The Times he remembered Eagle’s name because the then-teenager was a suspect in multiple gang homicides at the time.
He did not offer specifics, but dismissed Eagle’s medical alibi, contending the teen “wasn’t on crutches” when police arrested him.
“If he made an ID, we didn’t cheat, I can tell you that … I’ve never done that,” said Murrell. “We did everything by the book.”
Attempts to contact Wiseman were unsuccessful.
Eagle said things were only made worse by his former attorney, Patrick Lake, who didn’t make an opening statement at trial or raise any of Eagle’s alibi evidence. When Eagle questioned his lawyer, Lake joked that he was “saving the best for last.”
Oscar Eagle with his defense attorney, Megan Baca of the Innocence Project.
(Allen J. Schaben / Los Angeles Times)
As Eagle’s family grew frustrated in the gallery, he said his mother passed him a note that simply read “fire him.” Eagle tried to get rid of Lake, but a judge denied his request. Eagle was convicted of murder. And since he was tried as an adult, he faced 25-years-to-life.
Lake did not respond to a request for comment. Baca said she had one conversation with Lake, in which he claimed he didn’t remember Eagle or his case.
At the time, prosecutors in California could directly file charges against teens in adult court, sending hundreds of children every year to adult prisons such as Pelican Bay, where Eagle wound up. That practice has been abolished by a change in state law, but Baca said she’s encountered too many cases where teens had their lives stolen because they were wrongfully convicted and tried as adults.
“It’s egregious, but I think that it happens all the time,” Baca said. “So many of my clients were juveniles and they got adult life.”
Eagle said his stay in prison was long and painful. He spent six years in segregated housing, essentially isolation, after Baca said her client was wrongly labeled as a Mexican Mafia associate. He denied any affiliation with the powerful prison-based syndicate. Eagle said prison officials took a leap in logic to link him to the gang based on a “kite,” or prison note, sent by another inmate.
As he grew older behind bars, Eagle started to read voraciously. His father sent recommended books. Eagle says he gravitated toward the Bible.
Oscar Eagle at an L.A. County juvenile detention camp in 1997.
(Courtesy of Megan Baca)
Even though he knew he hadn’t committed the crime that put him in prison, Eagle said he still realized there were things about his life that needed to change.
“I was 30 years old. My perspective started to change. And I started to see this past life that I was living was nonsense,” he said. “I started to have a conscience.”
In 2023, after repeated failures to get his case overturned on appeal, some of Eagle’s friends got the attention of Baca and the California Innocence Project, which worked to bring the case before the conviction review unit. At the same time, Eagle said, he started exchanging letters with an ex-girlfriend from high school, a woman named Monica.
In July, the two squeezed next to each other on Baca’s couch at the lawyer’s Long Beach home, hands interlocked. They’ve since gotten married and are looking to move to Arizona, away from the city and county that nearly took everything away from Eagle.
There’s still a lot for Eagle to get used too — he’s never driven a car, the concept of Uber is still bizarre to him — but Monica says there’s one silver lining to the prison term Eagle never should have served. She wouldn’t have married the guy who was sent away all those years ago.
“He’s a whole new person from when he went in,” she said.
The Torrance Police Department and the California Attorney General’s Office have entered into an “enforceable agreement” meant to reform the troubled agency following a scandal that led prosecutors to toss dozens of criminal cases linked to officers who sent racist text messages, officials said.
Atty. Gen. Rob Bonta announced the reforms — which will include changes to the agency’s use-of-force and internal affairs practices, along with attempts to curtail biased policing — during a news conference in downtown Los Angeles on Thursday morning.
Bonta credited former Torrance Police Chief Jeremiah Hart with approaching him after the scandal first erupted in 2021, leading to collaborative reform efforts.
“The Torrance Police Department has demonstrated a commitment to self reflection to looking inward … to address systemic challenges,” Bonta said Thursday.
The California Attorney General’s Office announced its Torrance investigation in December 2021, the same day a Times investigation first revealed the contents of the text messages and the names of most of the officers involved. Court records and documents obtained by The Times showed the officers made offensive comments about a wide range of groups. They joked about “gassing” Jewish people, attacking members of the LGBTQ community and using violence against suspects.
The worst comments were saved for Black men and women, who the officers repeatedly called “savages” or referred to with variations of the N-word. One officer shared instructions on how to a tie a noose and posted a picture of a stuffed animal being hung inside police headquarters. Another message referred to the relatives of Christopher DeAndre Mitchell, a Black man shot to death by Torrance police in 2018, as “all those [N-word] family members,” according to court records.
Sometimes, the officers blatantly fantasized about the deaths of Black men, women and even kids.
One officer shared pictures of tiny coffins intended to house the bodies of Black children they would “put down.” Another imagined executing Black suspects.
“Lucky I wasn’t out and about,” one officer wrote in response to a text about Black men allegedly involved in a Torrance robbery, according to records reviewed by The Times in 2022. “D.A. shoot team asking me why they are all hung by a noose and shot in the back of the head 8 times each.”
The officers also suggested a political allegiance in their hate-filled text thread. In a conversation about needlessly beating a female suspect, Sgt. Brian Kawamoto said he wanted to “make Torrance great again,” a play on President Trump’s ubiquitous campaign slogan.
The texts were sent between May 2018 and February 2022, according to investigative reports made public by the California Commission on Peace Officer Standards and Training. Bonta said Thursday that roughly a dozen officers were involved in the thread. At least seven of those officers are no longer employed by the agency, according to court records and a POST database.
The group of officers that The Times linked to the texts has been involved in at least seven serious use-of-force incidents in Torrance and Long Beach, including three killings of Black and Latino men, according to police use-of-force records and court filings.
While Concannon and Chavez were investigated as part of the scandal, The Times has never seen evidence that they sent racist text messages. In the past, authorities have said, some officers under investigation were aware of the texts but did not send any hateful messages themselves.
The scandal may not have come to light if not for the actions of former officers Cody Weldin and Michael Tomsic, who were charged with spray painting a swastika inside of a vehicle that was towed from a crime scene in 2021. That incident prompted former Los Angeles County Dist. Atty. George Gascón to launch an investigation into possible hate crime charges. While a hate enhancement was never charged in the vandalism case, it led to the execution of warrants on the officers’ cellphones that unveiled the texts.
Tomsic and Weldin pleaded guilty to vandalism earlier this year and gave up their right to be police officers in California. Disciplinary records made public earlier this year identified Weldin as the “owner” of the group text in which many of the racist remarks were found. The group was dubbed “The Boys,” records show.
By engaging in “collaborative reform,” Bonta chose the least forceful method of reform in Torrance. Often, the attorney general’s office will seek court-mandated reform through a settlement, as it has with the Los Angeles County sheriff’s and probation departments, so that it may ask a judge to force change if a police agency doesn’t comply.
In 2021, Hart personally approached Bonta’s office, seeking to work together on reform, which may have led the attorney general to use a softer method. Interim Police Chief Bob Dunn, who came to Torrance in 2023 after a long career with the Anaheim Police Department, said he believes Hart’s actions should show the department is committed to reform in the wake of the ugly scandal.
“It was the department that identified the behavior, the department that did the investigation and the department that took the case for criminal filing on the initially involved officers,” Dunn said of the city’s reaction to the revelation of the text messages in 2021.
In recent years, Dunn said, the department has taken steps to improve its use-of-force and police pursuit review processes by deploying sergeants to respond to any force incident. The hope, Dunn said, is to collect better information from individual cases that can be used to train officers in deescalation. Hart also created a Chief’s Advisory Panel to collect greater community input on issues facing the department, including bias allegations, according to Dunn.
In the final weeks of philanthropist Wallis Annenberg’s life, her family and closest friends were consumed by a fierce power struggle over her medical care, court records show.
Three of her children — Gregory, Lauren and Charles — believed their mother was being mistreated during her most vulnerable time, wrongfully confined to her bed, isolated from family and longtime staff and overmedicated to the point of stupor.
They blamed their mother’s longtime partner, Kris Levine, and Kris’ older sister, Vikki Levine.
Vikki, who served as Annenberg’s personal assistant and held authority over her medical decisions, was exerting control over their mother in “likely fatal” ways, hastening her decline with excess narcotics, the children alleged in court documents. The children said they were shielded from information about their mother and were distressed that the Levine sisters had indicated plans to remove Annenberg’s body from her Century City villa within hours of her death and send her remains for composting before a proper goodbye.
“If there is anything suspicious about her death — which is appearing more and more likely given Vikki’s ongoing abuse of Wallis — it will render it impossible to conduct an autopsy,” the children’s legal team asserted in court filings.
The dispute drew in some of the city’s top lawyers, triggered calls to police and led the Annenberg children to march into Los Angeles County Superior Court in a frantic effort to dislodge Vikki Levine from overseeing their mother’s medical care.
Vikki and Kris Levine adamantly denied over-medicating or mistreating Annenberg, the heiress to her father’s publishing empire who, through her family’s foundation, gave about $1.5 billion to scores of organizations and nonprofits across Los Angeles County.
In court filings, Vikki Levine said the children’s “vicious and false accusations” stemmed from sadness that their mother didn’t disclose to them that her cancer had returned, that they weren’t in charge of her care, that her death was rapidly approaching and that she wanted to die “as gently as possible.”
“The Children have misdirected their pain, grief and anger at the wrong person, which is so much easier than confronting reality,” Vikki Levine said in a court filing in which she also accused the Annenberg children of creating a “toxic environment” when they visited.
Kris Levine, who started dating the heiress in 2009 and had lived with her since 2012, submitted a declaration stating that the Annenberg children had engaged in a campaign of “lies” to their mother, including telling her that her partner was trying to kill her. She insisted that the children had been permitted to visit but lamented that her home had become engulfed by acrimony.
“No one is attempting to hurt Wallis — we love her. No one is keeping her children from her. Despite the outrageous behavior they exhibit in my home at such a sensitive time, they are still welcome,” Kris Levine said in a declaration.
Annenberg had opted to go into hospice in the final weeks of her life, and Kris Levine questioned why the children would defy their mother’s wishes and disparage her choices, particularly in such a public way.
“Nobody controlled Wallis Annenberg and for anyone to say otherwise would contradict the truth and be disrespectful of her and her legacy as one of the most transformative philanthropists of our time,” said Stuart Liner, an attorney for Kris Levine, in a statement to The Times.
This account of the Annenberg family’s internal conflict is based on court records that provide a window into one of Southern California’s most prominent families. Wallis Annenberg’s estate lawyer, Andrew Katzenstein, and the children’s lawyer, Jessica Babrick, declined comment. Representatives for Vikki Levine did not respond to messages seeking comment.
Wallis Annenberg, center, sits between her son Charles Annenberg Weingarten and Kris Levine at a 2015 event.
(Chris Weeks / Getty Images)
Annenberg died Monday at age 86, drawing tributes from former President Biden, Gov. Gavin Newsom, and luminaries in the worlds of art, business and philanthropy.
The public mourning has highlighted Annenberg’s generosity toward elder care, animal welfare and USC, where she was a life trustee, among other causes. The turmoil among those closest to her, however, has persisted following the intense legal battle over her final days.
The dispute, at least so far, has not touched on the Annenberg family’s wealth — or what either side stood to financially gain or lose with the matriarch’s death. It originated, in part, in an advance healthcare directive that Annenberg allegedly signed on July 11, 2023, the year after she was diagnosed with lung cancer, according to court records.
The directive, which was notarized and executed with assistance from Annenberg’s attorney, Katzenstein, endowed Vikki Levine with primary authority over medical decisions and designated Annenberg’s son Gregory Weingarten as an alternate.
Annenberg’s children have since cast doubt on the document, asserting in a court filing that the signature appears to be right-handed, while Annenberg was left-handed.
Vikki Levine, with David Dreier, attends The Wallis Delivers: A Benefit Evening To Support Wildfire Recovery at Wallis Annenberg Center for the Performing Arts on April 30 in Beverly Hills.
(Rodin Eckenroth / Getty Images)
Why Annenberg installed Vikki Levine in the role is unclear. In court papers, she is described as Annenberg’s best friend, personal assistant and sister to “life partner” Kris Levine. Voting records show that all three women resided at Annenberg’s home. Vikki Levine had worked for the heiress since at least the mid-2000s, when Annenberg installed her as trustee over a granddaughter’s trusts, court records show.
Although Kris Levine was not listed among Annenberg’s survivors in several obituaries, she was a mainstay in her life, publicly accompanying her to events and co-chairing philanthropic events.
Last fall, after being in remission, Annenberg’s cancer returned. According to a court filing by Vikki Levine, the philanthropist decided not to tell her children or anyone but her “closest friends.”
“Wallis determined not to seek treatment, but to enjoy as much as possible, the time she had left,” according to the filing.
In April, after Vikki Levine told Annenberg’s children about their mother’s health, they “had nearly unlimited access to Wallis,” the filing said, asserting that the children’s claims rest on scores of in-person interactions with her, making it unlikely that she was forcibly isolated.
“Wallis has been visited virtually daily by her Children and/or grandchildren, and has 24 hour care by experienced medical staff,” Vikki Levine’s attorneys said.
Wallis Annenberg, seated, with her children Gregory Annenberg Weingarten, Lauren Bon and Charles Annenberg Weingarten.
(Hamish Robertson)
Around early May, Annenberg began hospice, with medication aimed to alleviate pain and anxiety from her decreased lung function, according to a declaration from one of her hospice nurses that was reviewed by The Times.
But the Annenberg children were growing increasingly alarmed, they said in court filings.
In June and early July, Vikki Levine had dismissed longtime household staff and was demanding that a new team overmedicate their mother, “administering excessive amounts of powerful narcotics and opioids, such as Fentanyl, Morphine, Ativan and other similar drugs,” the children alleged in a court filing.
The cocktail of narcotics kept their mother “in a vegetative state” and risked catastrophe, the children claimed, writing, “When Wallis is able to emerge from this near-comatose state, she is adamant that this is not what she wants and that she believes, in her own words, that Vikki is ‘kidnapping her.’”
To back their accusations, the children provided a judge with signed declarations from three of their mother’s caregivers, who said they had been ousted around late June after observing shocking scenes, including forgery of records and misrepresentations to Annenberg’s doctors.
“I witnessed Vikki forcing pills in Ms. Annenberg’s mouth when she clearly did not want to take them. I told Vikki that Ms. Annenberg seemed calm and did not need more medication,” said Annenberg’s housekeeper and caregiver of nearly 20 years. “Vikki told me the pills were for her upset stomach, but I told her that I knew they were Ativan because I saw the bottle.”
Another healthcare worker — a registered nurse of 40 years employed by a concierge medical service — said she was dismissed shortly after she objected to providing Ativan to Annenberg, who at the time was sleeping and did not appear anxious or agitated.
The nurse alleged that Vikki Levine forbade the staff from keeping a proper medication log and allowed Annenberg to drink alcohol, even while on medication.
“It is difficult for me to believe that this kind of conduct can happen to anyone, let alone Ms. Annenberg. No one deserves to be rushed to death,” the nurse said in her sworn declaration.
Lawyers for Vikki Levine said that all three former staffers supporting the Annenberg children had been fired “for cause,” but did not elaborate.
Before turning to the courts, the children asked Dr. Peter Phung, of Keck Medicine of USC, to visit their mother. Phung “determined that she was, indeed, being overmedicated” and trimmed her dosage, the children claimed in court filings.
“As a result, Wallis had her best day in weeks,” the children said. “Unfortunately,” they continued, Vikki Levine blocked access to the doctor, and she and her sister “completely barred” the children’s visits on July 13.
The following morning, the children petitioned a Los Angeles County Superior Court judge to suspend Vikki Levine’s authority as Annenberg’s healthcare agent and appoint one of her sons or a third-party professional instead. The children also asked the judge to impose a three-day period before Annenberg’s body could be transported out of L.A. or cremated.
In a 73-page filing, the children provided extraordinary details about their mother’s medical care, along with their concerns, situating their petition as an act of desperation.
“We have been informed that my mother may only have weeks to live, and I do not want those weeks to be spent in a medically-induced coma due to Vikki’s actions, which are contrary to medical advice and harmful to her well-being,” daughter Lauren Bon said in a declaration.
Annenberg’s daughter, artist Lauren Bon, stands in an L.A. River project site in 2023.
(Jay L. Clendenin / Los Angeles Times)
Vikki Levine and her sister vehemently contested the allegations, denying any abuse and claiming that the children were misinformed or omitted key information.
“Dr. Phung did not determine that Wallis was being over-medicated as alleged,” said one of Vikki Levine’s filings. “To the contrary, Dr. Phung confirmed to Vikki that there has been ‘no mismanagement of symptoms.’”
Annenberg, they said, was confined to the bed because of doctor’s orders, not cruelty.
A hospice nurse who saw Annenberg nearly daily in the final weeks of her life also contested many of the claims of the children and the former caregivers.
The nurse, according to a signed declaration reviewed by The Times, said Annenberg’s care relied on direct orders from her physicians and was carried out by registered nurses from VITAS, a hospice service. The medical team kept all appropriate records, and Annenberg was confined to her bed because moving would have risked dangerous falls, respiratory distress and other calamities.
The Levine sisters portrayed the Annenberg children as improperly interfering in their mother’s affairs.
“They crowd around Wallis’ bed while the nurses are caring for her, tell Wallis that she doesn’t need the medication, refuse to get out of their way, ask numerous questions about the medication and procedures being employed, and generally make the situation untenable for a care-provider to work,” Kris Levine said in a declaration submitted to the judge.
While Kris Levine acknowledged that she had halted visits from the children on July 13, she said in a court declaration that she asked them not to come that day because of a series of heated confrontations, and that she had wanted to impose visiting hours to give Annenberg some rest and continuity.
“The children, particularly Gregory Weingarten, have aggressively refused my requests. Indeed, he has insisted that my name is ‘not on the deed,’ that I have ‘no rights’ to our home, and that he had ‘more rights’ to be there than I did,” Kris Levine said in her declaration.
The tensions boiled over with “multiple” calls to police by Annenberg’s children.
Vikki Levine said that when officers arrived on a recent Friday night, they “determined that there was no mistreatment of Wallis, no elder abuse as alleged, and told Vikki that she did not need to let the Children back into the house.”
Nevertheless, both Vikki and Kris Levine said they made it clear to the children that they could still visit their mother.
On July 22, Judge Gus T. May found that there was “good cause” to suspend Vikki Levine from serving as Annenberg’s healthcare agent.
In her place, the judge appointed Jodi Pais Montgomery, a professional fiduciary who has held roles in other celebrity cases in probate court, including Britney Spears and Carol Burnett’s grandson.
Montgomery was instructed to follow Annenberg’s advance healthcare directive and share confidential medical information with the Annenberg children, as well as with the Levine sisters.
Gymnastics legend Mary Lou Retton pleaded no contest Tuesday to a DUI charge that stemmed from her arrest last month in her hometown of Fairmont, W.Va.
In a statement emailed to The Times, attorney Edmund J. Rollo said a Marion County judge fined his client $100. Rollo said that the amount is “consistent with sentencing guidelines for first-time, non-aggravated offenses in this jurisdiction.”
According to the Associated Press, Retton was pulled over on May 17 by police responding to a report about a Porsche being driven erratically. The 57-year-old former Olympic athlete is said to have smelled of alcohol, slurred her words and failed a field sobriety test. And officers said they observed a container of wine in the passenger seat.
Retton reportedly refused a roadside breath test and a blood test. She was arrested and charged with a misdemeanor count of driving under the influence of alcohol, controlled substances, or drugs. Court records show Retton was released after posting a personal recognizance bond of $1,500.
“What happened was completely unacceptable. I make no excuses,” Retton said in a statement released Tuesday by Rollo. “To my family, friends and my fans: I have let you down, and for that I am deeply sorry. I am determined to learn and grow from this experience, and I am committed to making positive changes in my life. I truly appreciate your concern, encouragement and continued support.”
Retton became a household name during the 1984 Summer Games in Los Angeles, when she became the first U.S. gymnast to win Olympic gold in the all-around competition and won five medals overall.
On Oct. 10, 2023, Retton’s daughter, McKenna Kelley, revealed that her mother had “a very rare form of pneumonia” and was “fighting for her life” in intensive care without being covered by medical insurance. An online fundraiser has raised nearly $500,000 to help cover medical costs for Retton, who was released from the hospital later that month.
In a January 2024 interview with NBC News, Retton said she was “not great yet” in terms of her recovery. “I don’t know how long I’ll indefinitely need the oxygen,” she said while gesturing toward her nasal tube.
