father

A judge has rejected Erik and Lyle Menendez’s petition for a new trial, ruling that additional evidence that they suffered sexual abuse at their father’s hands would not have changed the outcome of the trial that has put them in prison for more than 35 years for gunning down their parents.

The ruling, handed down by Los Angeles County Superior Court Judge William C. Ryan on Monday, is the latest blow to the brothers’ bid for release. Both were denied parole during lengthy hearings in late August.

A habeas corpus petition filed on behalf of the brothers in 2023 argued they should have been able to present additional evidence at trial that their father, Jose Menendez, was sexually abusive.

The new evidence included a 1988 letter that Erik Menendez sent to his cousin, Andy Cano, saying he was abused into his late teens. There were also allegations made by Roy Rosselló, a former member of the boy band Menudo, who claimed Jose Menendez raped him.

The brothers have long argued they were in fear for their lives that their father would keep abusing them, and that their parents would kill them to cover up the nightmarish conditions in their Beverly Hills home.

Prosecutors contended the brothers killed their parents with shotguns in 1989 to get access to their massive inheritance, and have repeatedly highlighted Erik and Lyle’s wild spending spree in the months that followed their parents’ deaths. .

“Neither piece of evidence adds to the allegations of abuse the jury already considered, yet found that the brothers planned, then executed that plan to kill their abusive father and complicit mother,” Ryan wrote. “The court finds that these two pieces of evidence presented here would have not have resulted in a hung jury nor in the conviction of a lesser instructed offense.”

Ryan agreed with Los Angeles County Dist. Atty. Nathan Hochman that the petition should not grant the brothers a new trial because the abuse evidence would not have changed the fact that the brothers planned and carried out the execution-style killings in the family living room.

Ryan wrote the new evidence would not have resulted in the trial court proceeding differently because the brothers could not show they experienced a fear of “imminent peril.”

A spokesperson for the group of more than 30 Menendez relatives who have been fighting for the brothers’ release did not immediately respond to a request for comment. A spokesman for the district attorney’s office was not immediately available for comment.

The gruesome killings occurred after the brothers used cash to buy the shotguns and attacked their parents while they watched a movie in the family living room.

Prosecutors said Jose Menendez was struck five times with shotgun blasts, including in the back of the head, and Kitty Menendez crawled on the floor wounded before the brothers reloaded and fired a final, fatal blast.

The petition rejected this week was one of three paths the Menendez legal team has pursued in seeking freedom for the brothers. Another judge earlier this year resentenced them to 50 years to life for the murders, making them eligible for parole after they were originally sentenced to life in prison.

Both were denied release at their first parole hearing, but could end up before the state panel again in as soon as 18 months. Clemency petitions are also still pending before Gov. Gavin Newsom.

The first trial ended with hung juries for each brother. In the second, allegations of abuse and supporting testimonies were restricted, and Lyle and Erik Menendez were convicted of first-degree murder in March 1996.

Fatma Ali and her children find hope after reuniting with husband and father Shamoun Idris amid Sudan’s ongoing humanitarian crisis.

A Sudanese father who had lost contact with his wife for 18 months has been reunited with his family after recognising them in an Al Jazeera news report.

Shamoun Idris lived with his wife, Fatma Ali, and their children in Sudan’s capital, Khartoum, until the city became a battleground between Sudan’s regular army and the paramilitary Rapid Support Forces (RSF) in August 2023, a few months after the war in Sudan started.

As the war intensified and shelling increased near their home, the couple decided that Fatma would try to escape Khartoum with their children. Shamoun would stay behind and protect the house as RSF forces advanced, looting homes and attacking civilians.

“I decided that they should leave,” Shamoun told Al Jazeera’s Mohamed Vall, who reported on the initial story featuring Fatma and their children. “I stayed behind to guard the house. We thought the war would end soon and they would be able to return.”

But soon after, and with the violence in the capital increasing, Idris was also forced to flee. In the process, both Shamoun and Fatma lost their phones and were unable to contact each other, with no knowledge of where the other was.

The couple became two of the 7,700 Sudanese people searching for missing relatives, according to the International Committee of the Red Cross.

“I kept telling the children he was somewhere, just unable to reach us, but, in fact, I was completely at a loss, and I was wondering what really happened to him. I couldn’t focus on the children or on him being missing,” said Fatma.

Reunion

Fatma and the children eventually reached Sennar, south of Khartoum, where they sheltered in a school.

Meanwhile, Shamoun searched for them in vain, until he eventually saw an Al Jazeera news report from February about missing relatives.

In the report was his wife, Fatma.

“I said, ‘Man, this is my family!’ I said, ‘I swear, it’s my family.’ It was such a huge surprise,” Shamoun said.

As Fatma listened to her husband tell the story of their recent reunion, she began to cry, overwhelmed with the emotion of Shamoun’s absence.

She said her hope now is for the family to rebuild their lives. “I hope we can go back and return to our previous life. I knew my children would be OK as long as I was with them, but for their father to be gone, that was a real problem.”

“Our children went to school and were very happy. Not one of our children was out of school; they even went to private schools, not public ones,” she said. “Now, it’s been more than two years since they saw the inside of a classroom, except as somewhere to shelter.”

Since being reunited, Shamound has found a small plot of land in Sennar, where he has built a little shack for the family.

It has no door to keep out rain, wind or sun, but thousands of other displaced people in Sudan do not have any shelter at all.

For now, Shamoun and Fatma are grateful for the little privacy and freedom it provides, and for being together.

It was a week Crescenta Valley football coach Hudson Gossard will never forget.

It began with him having to switch from defensive coordinator to offensive coordinator after coaching changes. Then his wife had to undergo surgery. Then he had to take care of final preparations for Crescenta Valley to open its new stadium on Sept. 5.

“It was an unbelievable atmosphere,” Gossard said. “High school kids dream of playing on their own high school campus. It was something awesome, something special.”

Gossard was almost in tears after what happened before the game against South Pasadena. He said before every game he receives a kiss from his wife, Codi. She was driven from the hospital and surprised him with a kiss.

“She’s a saint,” he said.

Gossard went to the press box to call the plays just like his father, Dennis, who passed in June after some 50 years being involved with Crescenta Valley football.

Crescenta Valley ended up winning the game 42-21. The emotions and memories won’t be forgotten.

This is a daily look at the positive happenings in high school sports. To submit any news, please email [email protected].

Ten days after a Russian man was mysteriously killed amid a crowd of tens of thousands at the Burning Man festival, Russian media is reporting that the man’s father has asked President Donald Trump to have the FBI investigate.

Vadim Kruglov, 37, had been living in Washington state and, according to friends’ Instagram accounts, was making his first pilgrimage to Burning Man. He was killed sometime between 8 and 9:30 pm on the night of August 30, his body found “in a pool of blood” around the time the giant wooden effigy of a man was lit on fire.

The Pershing County Sheriff’s Department, which has jurisdiction over the Black Rock Desert where the annual event takes place, is leading the homicide investigation but has made no public comments about what might have happened. The agency has issued public appeals for information about “any person who would commit such a heinous crime against another human being.”

The agency has also announced that Kruglov’s family has been formally notified of his death, and that “our sincerest condolences from the Pershing County Sheriff’s Office go out to Vadim Kruglov’s family for their tragic loss.”

The sheriff’s department declined to comment on reports of the father’s appeal, or his criticisms of the pace of the investigation.

The Moscow Times reported Thursday that the pro-Kremlin tabloid Komsomolskaya Pravda published a video from Kruglov’s father Thursday. In it, the father, Igor Kruglov bemoaned that “ten days have passed” and yet the investigation is “being conducted by one local sheriff.”

“Evil must be punished,” the father continues, “therefore, I appeal to you, dear Mr. President, and ask you to order the FBI to immediately begin investigating the murder of my son.”

Kruglov’s friends have been pushing a similar message to their tens of thousands of Instagram followers.

One post claimed that Kruglov died “from a professional knife strike to the neck —a single fatal blow. This happened in a place where more than 80,000 people from all over the world were gathered.” The Pershing County sheriff’s office declined to comment on the manner in which Kruglov was killed or say whether the friend’s post was accurate.

The Instagram post contained several photographs of Kruglov enjoying himself at the festival.

“A young and talented man, who made a big contribution to this world, has been killed,” the friend wrote. “And the person who did this is still walking free.” The post added: “We strongly believe a federal investigation is needed.”

Man who absconded with his three children in 2021 shot dead after firing on police, authorities say.

A New Zealand father who absconded with his three children after a dispute with his ex-partner nearly four years ago has been killed by police, authorities have said.

Tom Phillips, who had been on the run in the New Zealand wilderness with his children since December 2021, was shot dead after he was confronted by police following a burglary in the rural town of Piopio, police said on Monday.

Phillips, who had been involved in a dispute over custody of the children, was killed after he fired “multiple shots” at the first responding officer at the scene, causing him serious injuries, police said.

Acting Deputy Commissioner Jill Rogers said Philips, who had yet to be formally identified, was accompanied by one of his children, who was not injured in the incident.

Rogers said authorities were urgently seeking to locate his two other children.

“Following the incident, we have been in contact with Phillips’s family and we will be working to provide them with all available support,” Rogers said.

In a statement to Radio New Zealand, the children’s mother, Cat, said she was “deeply relieved” for her children.

“They have been dearly missed every day for nearly four years, and we are looking forward to welcoming them home with love and care,” she said.

Philips’s disappearance from the remote community of Marokop with his three children – now aged 12, 10 and nine – gripped New Zealand and generated global headlines.

Despite a number of sightings over the years and appeals by his family, Philips, who was facing criminal charges including aggravated robbery and unlawful possession of a firearm, managed to continually frustrate efforts by authorities to pinpoint his whereabouts.

Authorities had announced the most recent sighting of Philips less than two weeks ago, releasing security camera footage appearing to show him and one of his children breaking into a rural store.

The Slye brothers at Salesian High, Jordan Jr., a sophomore defensive back/receiver, and Marty, a freshman quarterback, certainly have the genes to succeed.

Their mother, Dena, a counselor at the school, was a softball standout at Washington. Their father, Jordan, was a receiver at Washington.

Now the boys have helped Salesian to a 2-1 start. Jordan Jr. is a 6-foot-1 cornerback with big-time potential. Marty got the size in the family at 6-4 and 235 pounds. He’s been the starting quarterback in three games, asked to contribute immediately as a freshman.

Jordan Jr. said it’s fun playing together on the same team. Jordan caught a touchdown pass from Marty on Thursday night against Bishop Alemany, but it was called back because of a penalty.

“It’s amazing having them, and a third one is on the way,” coach Anthony Atkins said.

Yes, a third Slye brother, Michael, will be a freshman next fall, so prepare for the era of the Slye brothers at Salesian.

This is a daily look at the positive happenings in high school sports. To submit any news, please email [email protected].

Walfredo de los Reyes Sr., the internationally lauded Cuban percussionist who had a prodigious six-decade career in the music industry, died Aug. 28 in Concord, Calif. He was 92.

Walfredo de los Reyes Jr. — who plays drums for the legendary rock band Chicago — shared the news of his father’s death in an Instagram post last week.

“My father, Walfredo de los Reyes Sr., passed away last night, surrounded by his loving wife, Debbie, my brother Danny, and my wife, Kirsten,” he wrote. “He was not only an incredible father, but also a mentor in music and in life. He will always live in my heart. … His spirit, his rhythm will never stop.”

Speaking with The Times, De los Reyes’ son Daniel, drummer of the Grammy-winning country group Zac Brown Band, recalled his most recent memories of his father and the pain of his loss.

“I did everything I could to help him in his last months, his last days, as far as comfort,” he said. “You see a bunch of testimonials that everybody’s been writing in… but to me, he’s just my father. He’s just my father that I help out and I go to work with. To process everything [has] been very, very difficult. He was my Superman. He was like my Bionic Man. I thought, ‘Nothing’s ever going to happen to him.’ And the end has finally come.”

Walfredo de los Reyes Sr. plays congas onstage.

(Courtesy of Daniel de los Reyes)

While he hopes that his father’s musical legacy is preserved and appreciated, Daniel also wants people to remember the person his father was outside the industry.

“He would take in whoever it was and help them,” Daniel said. “[It] didn’t matter where they were from. If they called him, I can assure you, he would invite him to the house he would share with them — make them feel like they were part of his family immediately.”

Daniel also shared his father’s last words to him: “Always play your best.”

“It wasn’t just playing in the music instrument,” he said. “It was being the best person that you could possibly be. And that when you close your eyes at night, you feel good with yourself.

“I’m going to take those last words and that’s going to be my mantra for the rest of my life. I always try to be the best person as possible, but now it’s just I have my father’s love shining through me.”

Walfredo de los Reyes III was born in Havana on June 16, 1933, into a musical family. His father, Walfredo de los Reyes II, was a trumpeter who helped found the Orquesta Casino de la Playa in 1937.

De los Reyes would go on to play percussions alongside Latin music icons like Tito Puente, Cachao López, Willie Bobo and Cuban singer La Lupe. He also performed with famous American acts such as Tony Bennett, Sammy Davis Jr., Linda Ronstadt, Dionne Warwick, Steve Winwood and Debbie Reynolds. He expanded his list of featured performances through his longtime residence in Las Vegas where he shared the stage with Milton Berle, Wayne Newton, Robert Goulet, Bernadette Peters and Rita Moreno.

His signature style of simultaneously playing a drum kit and percussion instruments was inspired by both Cuban and American influences — like Candido Segarra and Ed Shaughnessy — but also by necessity.

Tito Puente, left, poses for a photo with Walfredo de los Reyes Sr.

(Courtesy of Daniel de los Reyes)

“When I got my band at the Casino Parisien [in Havana], I didn’t have enough [money] to [hire] a conga player,” De los Reyes said in a 2011 interview with the National Assn. of Music Merchants. “I had to decide between a conga and a singer. I got the singer, because you always need a singer. [Then] I started putting congas on the left side [of my drum set] and playing with my left hand, the tumbao. … Why should I play only a conga drum? My feet just lay there.”

Figures from across the music world shared tributes to De los Reyes, including Tito Puente Jr., Gregg Bissonette, Luis Conte, Raul Pineda, Horacio “El Negro” Hernandez, Israel Morales and Al Velasquez.

He is survived by his wife, Debbie Bellamy de los Reyes, his five children and 10 grandchildren. His son, actor Kamar de los Reyes, died of cancer in 2023 at age 56.

Hey, hey, they’re the Runarounds, the latest Pinocchio band to straddle the line between fiction and fact. Meet Charlie (William Lipton), guitar! He’s a romantic! Neil (Axel Ellis), also guitar! Not just a pothead! (He reads Ferlinghetti.) Topher (Jeremy Yun), lead guitar! The quiet one! Wyatt (Jesse Golliher), bass! The even quieter one! And Bez (Zendé Murdock), drums, replacing Pete (Maximo Salas), henceforth the “manager,” who surely has been named for Pete Best, or I will eat my Beatles fan club card.

They have been assembled for your fist-pumping adulation from a reported 5,000-plus hopefuls responding to an open call for musicians and dropped into the center of a teenage musical soap opera, also called “The Runarounds,” premiering Monday on Prime Video.

This rockin’ concoction comes to you courtesy of Jonas Pate, creator of the Netflix teenage treasure-hunt series “Outer Banks,” and like that show, it is a wish-fulfilling fantasy set in Pate’s native North Carolina, specifically the seaside city of Wilmington, which offers a lot of lovely scenery and adorable domestic architecture. And like that show, it is all about being young and wanting to be free, like the bluebirds. Unlike that show, everybody here keeps their shirts on, in the actual sense (though not at all in the metaphorical).

The eight-episode season begins just as high school is ending, which in dramatic terms means parties and a scene in which someone makes a graduation speech. (That will be Sophia, played by Lilah Pate, daughter of Jonas.) Charlie, who has just turned 18, is avoiding telling his parents that he’s not going to go to college, even though he’s been accepted to one. (To just one is the perhaps unintended implication.) His entire future, in his head at least, depends on “getting signed” by the summer’s end — which, in music business terms, is 20th century thinking, but like a lot of music being made today, this is an old-fashioned show. That, and getting Sophia, the beautiful, overachieving sad girl he’s been crushing on for four years, to notice him.

Charlie, Toph, Neil and Pete have been playing unspecified gigs under an unfortunate name I’ll not repeat, and they feel pretty good about the band, although strangely it takes until the pilot for them to realize that Pete is a terrible drummer. After some group soul-searching and flyer-posting, they pick up Bez, who drums so well one wonders why he isn’t in three other bands already — or why there seems to be no other groups around, or any sort of music scene. He brings along his friend Wyatt, who picks up a bass, and a new band is born. Wyatt’s interiority, shy smile and young Jeff Tweedy vibe makes him immediately the most intriguing Runaround.

Charlie (William Lipton), Wyatt (Jesse Golliher) and Bez (Zendé Murdock) in a scene from “The Runarounds,” which is set in Wilmington, N.C.

(Jackson Lee Davis / Prime Video)

Along with Sophia, who writes poems that might be lyrics, the female element is filled out by Amanda (Kelley Pereira), Topher’s controlling, capable girlfriend, who will prove a secret weapon for the band, and Bender (Marley Aliah), who goes about with cameras, likes Neil and wholly embodies a somewhat scary, casually cool, not-at-all pixieish dream girl. They don’t get to be in the band, but as actors, they do a lot to support their nonprofessional castmates. (Lipton, the only professional actor in the band — including in 328 episodes of “General Hospital” — comes across as less authentic than the untrained others, though that may be in part because he’s saddled with the heaviest storylines and has to say things like, “I want to write love songs that change the world.”)

As in “Outer Banks,” and two out of every three teen shows ever, most are at odds with their parents, catnip to young viewers who are even occasionally at odds with their own parents, over even minor things because — parents! Charlie’s are played by Brooklyn Decker, whose character teaches film, and Hayes MacArthur, whose character has spent 12 years working on a novel — that is, only working on a novel, which is to say not working; somehow they are not divorced. (And money is becoming an issue, and there is a Big Secret that will shake the family.) “What kind of work is done in a bathrobe, father?” says Charlie’s mouthy little sister, Tatum (Willa Dunn).

Neil’s father, who has health problems, assumes his son will join him in his painting business; Topher’s are conservative stuck-up pills who, like Amanda, have him slated for a career in finance. Bez’s father is also a musician but thinks his son is wasting his time with the Runarounds. Wyatt’s mother is some sort of addict, who hates him. Sophia’s father is self-medicating after the death of her mother some years before, leaving her to pick up the pieces. (“I’m doing everything right on paper but I don’t feel alive,” she says.) Wouldn’t you rather be with your friends, playing in a band?

Wyatt will find a job and a refuge, and the band a rehearsal space in a music store run by nonparental adult Catesby (Mark Wystrach), who spent 18 years in Nashville experiencing success and failure and knew Charlie’s mother once upon a time — so that’ll be a thing. (The store apparently does no business at all.) For inspiration he sends the kids way out in the country to a secret show by his old friend Dexter Romweber (a real person, now deceased, played by Brad Carter), who will shake their nerves and rattle their brains and leave them with words of encouraging and discouraging wisdom before disappearing into the night and a fictionalized fate.

Every so often, we get a performance — at a graduation party, a county fair, a wedding, a roadhouse, a prestigious opening slot, where the crowds react as if they’re extras in a TV show. (The kids can play, and the songs aren’t bad.) As they struggle toward their goal, they’ll meet disaster and resistance. They’ll fuss, they’ll feud. They’ll make mistakes, they’ll make sacrifices, they’ll make trouble, though no trouble that can’t be fixed with an apology or checkbook or someone to bail them out. (I am pretty sure in the long history of underage kids sneaking into clubs, none has ever been arrested and put in jail, but maybe things are different in Wilmington.) They’ll get high and stay out all night, talking heart to heart, which does seem authentically teenage. (The “Wizard of Oz” costumes less so.)

There are niche references for the pop-musically informed: Catesby telling Wyatt to put a couple of P13 pickups into a ’68 Silvertone guitar; moving from the two to the five chord; name-dropping storied rock clubs (the 40 Watt, the 9:30). “This isn’t some f— Squier I got for Christmas,” Neil wails when his Gretsch White Falcon disappears. When Charlie rides his bike off a roof into a swimming pool in the midst of Pete’s party, that is almost certainly in homage to the “I am a golden god” scene from “Almost Famous”; later, they’ll nick an idea from the Beatles.

As with other manufactured bands before them, the line between what’s real and what’s retail is blurred. You can buy Runarounds-branded merch (T-shirts and hoodies, a beach towel, a sweatband, lighters). You can stream their “album,” co-produced by the Talking Heads’ Jerry Harrison, and released by actual major label Arista, from all the usual musical platforms. They’ve got dates scheduled from mid-September to late October in the South, mid-Atlantic and Northeast in legit rock halls, though whether they will identify themselves by their character names, I don’t know. (That wasn’t a problem for the Monkees, who just used their own.) I doubt they’ll be sleeping on floors or tripled up at a Motel 6, unless things are worse than I know at Amazon. If they split the driving, I hope they’re more responsible with that than the characters they play.

It’s a fluffy show, sometimes catching something real, frequently improbable, never completely ridiculous. But the audience at which it’s aimed may be happy enough with an aspirational fairy tale that reflects their own feelings about their own feelings, for which the music itself is a megaphone and a metaphor.

“All good pop songs are a little corny,” says Charlie.

“Maybe,” replies Sophia, which is the right answer.

TELLURIDE, Colo.  — Jeremy Allen White asked all the questions any normal human being would ask when offered the chance to play Bruce Springsteen in “Springsteen: Deliver Me From Nowhere.” In theaters Oct. 24, it’s a movie that examines a slice of the rock legend’s career when he was battling depression and creating 1982’s incomparable exploration of alienation “Nebraska,” a record he didn’t know he was making when he recorded the songs on a primitive four-track tape machine in a rented New Jersey home. It turned out to be his favorite of all his albums.

Most of those questions could be boiled down to: Why me? White didn’t know how to play the guitar. He loves to sing but would never call himself a singer. And while he has a relationship with an audience, particularly those who have white-knuckled their way through his Emmy-winning work as Carmy, the talented and troubled chef on “The Bear,” he says it’s a far cry from the bond Springsteen has forged with his fan base for the past 50-plus years.

“The relationship a musician has with fans is so intimate,” White, 34, tells me the morning after the movie had its world premiere at the Telluride Film Festival. “You listen to him in the car, you go to see him live. He’s there in your ear and it’s just the two of you. You feel like you’re being spoken to. Bruce is so important to so many people. It was daunting. I didn’t want to disappoint.”

By the time we talked, though, White was well past any anxiety about disappointing, if only because he had the approval of the person who mattered the most: Springsteen himself.

“Jeremy tolerated me and I appreciated that,” Springsteen said at a festival Q&A, suggesting that his input on the movie was ongoing and significant — and also welcome. He noted that it was easy to sign off on director Scott Cooper’s vision for the movie, which, with its narrow focus on the deep dive of “Nebraska,” he called an “antibiopic.”

“And I’m old and I don’t give a f— what I do,” Springsteen added, laughing.

White and I are sitting in the sun outside his hotel, basking in the warmth the day after a steady rain. Wearing a battered Yankees cap, jeans, boots and a blue pullover, he’s sporting the casual uniform of the festival, if not the Boss himself. White asks if I mind if he lights an American Spirit. He reaches for his lighter. The premiere is over and his mood is light. We dive right in.

Jeremy Allen White in the movie “Springsteen: Deliver Me From Nowhere.”

(Macall Polay / 20th Century Studios)

Was there an immediate point of connection with Springsteen?
The more I talked with him, the more I learned. And at the point in his life we show in the movie, he was feeling so fraudulent. Not in his work, but as a human. He felt like he was being caught in a lie all the time. And I don’t want to speak for all actors, but I’ve certainly dealt with that kind of feeling.

It feels like there’s a line between your Springsteen and Carmy on “The Bear,” two men carrying generational trauma and emotional baggage they have no idea how to deal with. Do you see that?
For sure, you can draw that line. They’re cousins. And they’ve both got their art, something they feel confident about. What Bruce was feeling in his relationship with his father and the environment he grew up in, is he felt incredibly unsafe. And that made it difficult for him to trust people and form real connections. For a long time, the only connection he felt was in that three hours he spent on stage.

But then what do you do the rest of the time?
Absolutely. And I’m familiar with those feelings. But my home life as a child was more loving and supportive, so I had to do some creative work to find that tether to Bruce.

You mentioning Springsteen’s dad just popped a thought into my head. Is Carmy’s dad alive?
[Long exhale] We don’t know. That’s a decision that’s up to [showrunner] Chris [Storer].

It’s above your pay grade.
Well above.

You’re really good at playing men who have trouble articulating their feelings, which puts a lot of weight on your shoulders to convey an interior life through close-ups. Do you like that kind of acting?
I do. You have to have an understanding. The camera knows. If you’re just staring at a wall and you don’t have anything going on, the camera will know. The audience will, too.

You do also get to rock out and sing “Born to Run” and “Born in the U.S.A.” How did your vocal chords feel afterward?
I spent an afternoon singing “Born in the U.S.A.” and I got a migraine and I lost my voice. I saw Bruce afterward and he asked, “What’d you do today.” And I said [affecting a hoarse voice], “Uh, I recorded ‘Born in the U.S.A.’” And he smiles and says, “Sounds about right.”

Most of your singing is the “Nebraska” songs, these delicate acoustic songs about despairing characters who have lost hope. Putting across their stories in these songs feels like its own imposing challenge.
I was so focused on just sounding like Bruce and my coach, Eric [Vetro], asks, “What are you singing about? What’s the story? Where’s Bruce coming from? Is he singing from his perspective? Is about his childhood? Is he playing a character?” All these questions that, for an actor, should be right at the front of mind. Because I was so anxious about sounding like him, I found myself blocked by the real thing, which was: How can I just sing the song as honestly as possible?

What song was the breakthrough?
“Mansion on the Hill.” Bruce listened to it and said, “You do sound like me. But it’s you singing the song.” And that gave me permission, not just in recording the music, but making a film where I could tell his story but not be afraid to bring myself to it.

Did you have a favorite song?
Probably “My Father’s House.” It seemed like a warning for me. There’s regret in it. What I heard is a song about a young man not wanting to regret that he didn’t reach out for his father, who he had a love and connection with earlier. There was an immediacy to it, which you then see with Bruce and his father in the film.

Did it make you want to call your dad?
I called him right after recording that song in Nashville. Like many fathers and sons, we have a loving relationship, but we’ve also gone through periods where things have been difficult and it was hard to communicate. Making this film and singing this song has given me another perspective. It also coincides with getting older and having children of my own.

I’m glad you made the call. You can’t have those conversations after a certain point.
That’s what I mean about the warning of that song.

You told me yesterday that you and Springsteen had a debate about “Reason to Believe.” What was the source of the disagreement?
It’s the last song on the album and Bruce says people confuse it as being hopeful. He says that’s not correct. The song is about a woman whose husband has left her and she stands at the end of the driveway every day, waiting for him to come home. And I hear that, and I think, “Oh, that’s real love. That’s romance. Someone’s gonna drive down that road at some point.”

Either that or this poor woman is just going to be walking up and down her driveway the rest of her life.
And no one’s gonna be there. It depends how your ear is on a song.

But you choose to believe.
I choose to walk to the end of the driveway. Absolutely.

Would you call yourself an optimist?
No. [Laughs] Not really.

“Nebraska” came out in 1982 and was informed by the idea that there was a growing divide between the wealthy and the poor and that what we think of as the American Dream was becoming more elusive. Where do you think the album sits more than four decades later?
People are angry. That’s what seems to define our country right now. Anger. And it doesn’t seem to be going away. The songs on “Nebraska” are still going to be speaking to us four decades from now. They’re timeless.

Jeremy Allen White in the movie “Springsteen: Deliver Me From Nowhere.”

(Macall Polay / 20th Century Studios)

Did your early dance background help you with the physicality of the role, the way he carries himself on stage or even just walking around?
For sure. Finding the way he holds his gravity was important. I put little lifts in the boots and that made my posture change, my legs a little longer. Wearing the pants up to here [he points to a spot above his hips], that gets your gravity in your belly button, where I’m crouched over all the time.

There’s a lot of scenes in diners where he’s sitting with one arm over the back of the booth …
… like he’s on his way out almost all the time. One foot in, one foot out.

Musician friends turned you on to “Nebraska” in your early 20s. What music were you listening to then?
My folks are a little older so I grew up listening to a lot of music that Bruce listened to — Sam Cooke, Otis Redding, the Beatles, the Stones, Aretha Franklin.

Your parents had a strong record collection.
Still do. And I grew up in in Brooklyn in the ’90s, so I got really heavy into hip-hop in my teenage years. I discovered Nas and Jay-Z and Big L and Wu-Tang. Tribe. De La Soul. And then I was around for an exciting time in the New York scene. I was young so I couldn’t really experience it, but the Strokes were coming out and LCD Soundsystem. I felt lucky to be close that stuff as it was happening.

The way you’re talking about all this, it feels like music is a fundamental part of your life.
Absolutely. I love that it’s always with you. I’ve taken a couple of cross-country trips, and I love putting on Motown. I go through periods where I listen to the same 20 songs for a couple of weeks. But then I’ve got thousands of “liked” songs. And the nice part about a long drive is you can shuffle that and it’s like you’re traveling in time. I love getting to visit past versions of myself through music.

Springsteen takes an eventful cross-country trip in the film. What’s your most memorable one?
I did one by myself when I was about 24. I thought I was going to give myself about two weeks to go from New York to L.A. The first week was great. I was enjoying my solitude, listening to a lot of music. Then when I hit Utah, I got incredibly lonely.

Did the landscapes get to you?
Maybe. I had a certain amount of anonymity, which I enjoy on a road trip. You don’t know anybody in these towns and that allows you to be whoever you want to be, passing through. I remember getting to Utah and just being desperate to see somebody who knew who I was. And I got a flat in St. George, Utah. It was a disaster. My phone had died. I didn’t have a spare. I was out on the side of the road trying to borrow somebody’s phone. I took that as a sign. After I got it repaired, I raced to have dinner with a friend, because I felt this this crazy loneliness.

Springsteen says everyone has their “genesis moment,” an experience that charts your path. His was watching Elvis Presley perform on “The Ed Sullivan Show” in 1956. What’s your genesis moment?
I had been dancing on stage but I didn’t act until I was 14 when I got up in front of a group in middle school. I had this great teacher, John McEneny, and he was having us do this improvisational exercise — two characters, one speaking, one quiet. And my friend, Yael, was playing a mother and I was playing her child who didn’t know how to speak yet. So I wasn’t speaking, like so much of my work [Laughs].

It’s Carmy’s genesis moment too.
Yes. And I remember feeling a presence. I had a hard time focusing as a child, a hard time being present. Still do. But I remember even in silence feeling so at ease and present. And of course I remember the eyes. And even without me doing anything or speaking, I felt attention, people waiting to see what I would do next. And I went, “Whoa.” I felt at peace. I felt present and people were interested. And I thought, “Let me follow this a little bit and see where we can go.”

There’s a scene in the movie, taken from real life, where Springsteen is flipping through the channels one night and stumbles upon Terrence Malick’s “Badlands,” a movie that ultimately influences “Nebraska.” With streaming, we don’t really have those serendipitous discoveries any more. Have you ever had a moment like that?
I can’t think of one. But “Badlands” was a favorite of my parents and they showed it to me when I was 13 or 14. Martin Sheen was cool as hell in that role, and I was so impressed with his commitment to that character. And Sissy Spacek conveys so much with so few words.

And like “Nebraska,” “Badlands” was difficult to make. There was a lot of pushback against Malick and what he was trying to do.
There was a lot of confusion going on. They weren’t on the same page. Like with Bruce, it took a lot of diligence on Terrence Malick’s part to realize his vision. It’s so beautiful when you hear about the process of making a film is so difficult, and then something so beautiful and perfect comes out.

Where do you like to see movies in L.A.?
I love the New Beverly. I saw “2001: A Space Odyssey” at the Egyptian not long ago. The Aero, if I’m on the Westside. I miss the Cinerama Dome and the Arclight. New movies, probably the Sunset 5. My favorite thing is go to a movie on a Tuesday at like one in the afternoon. You’re there by yourself. I like seeing movies by myself. Some people get out of a movie and like to start talking about it. I like getting out of a movie and being quiet for awhile.

Did you see “Weapons”? That was my favorite movie theater experience this summer.
I loved “Weapons.” And obviously, it’s a great horror film and funny at times and that ending is just crazy. But also I found myself very emotionally affected. To me the horror of the movie was about, from the child’s perspective, looking at all these adults who were totally incapable, whether it was due to addiction or narcissism.

Bringing this full circle, I’m watching this movie about kids feeling unsafe and I thought of the times in Bruce’s upbringing where he felt a similar way and how that made it so difficult to grow up and be trusting. That he ultimately got to that place is so beautiful. I hope people come away from watching this movie feeling that and, if they’re in a place that’s not so good, maybe thinking that connection can still be possible.

Actor Floyd Levine, whose career spanned numerous decades and a variety of projects ranging from films “The Hangover” and “Norbit” to TV shows “Melrose Place” and “Murder, She Wrote,” has died. He was 93.

Levine died Sunday, surrounded by family and “probably wishing someone would bring him a martini,” his daughter-in-law Tracy Robbins announced Tuesday on Instagram. Robbins, who is married to Levine’s son, former Paramount executive Brian Robbins, said Levine was “the best father-in-law, grandpa, and all around jokester.”

Levine began his screen career in the early 1970s and appeared in almost 100 productions. His notable credits also include films “Dog Day Afternoon,” “Bloodbrothers,” “Super Fly” and TV series “Kojak,” “Starsky & Hutch,” “Baywatch” and “Days of Our Lives.” He often played minor characters, including police officers, detectives, tailors, doctors and a crime boss.

A former taxi cab driver from New York City, Levine also collaborated with his son on Eddie Murphy starrers “Norbit,” “Meet Dave” and “A Thousand Words.” Robbins was inspired by his father to pursue an entertainment career and was also an actor, director and longtime producer before he became an industry executive. The father-son duo also both appeared in “Archie Bunker’s Place” and “Head of the Class.” They also worked together on “Good Burger,” “Kenan & Kel” and “Coach Carter.”

“Brian is basically his twin, and we will see Floyd’s grin every time we look at him,” Tracy Robbins added in her Instagram post.

“You all have made my life sugar, and I love you all so much,” he tells loved ones in a video shared by Robbins. “If I could do it, I’d hug you and kiss you all. God bless you all and keep punching.”

Levine was laid to rest on Wednesday. In addition to Brian and Tracy Robbins, survivors also include daughter Sheryl, son Marc and several grandchildren, according to the Hollywood Reporter. His wife, Rochelle, died in May 2022 at age 85.

“I would like to think there’s a casting call in heaven, and you showed up early, script in hand,” Tracy Robbins added in her post. “I will miss him dearly, but i know he’s making the angels laugh already and back together with his beautiful wife Rochelle.”

THE first child victim of the Minneapolis Catholic school shooting has been named as eight-year-old Fletcher Merkel.

Fletcher was one of two children killed during mass at Annunciation Catholic School on Wednesday as his father paid a heartbreaking tribute.

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In a heartbreaking statement dad Jessie said: “Fletcher loved his family, friends, fishing, cooking, and any sports that he was allowed to play.

“While the hole in our hearts and lives will never be filled, I hope that in time, our family can find healing.”

The devastated father added that Fletcher was “on the path to becoming to a wonderful young man”.

Sick lone gunman Robin Westman, 23, fired over 100 bullets at defenseless kids and teachers in the horror attack.

He later turned the gun on himself before police could arrive.

Jessie didn’t say Robin’s name as spoke today but instead referred to him as a “coward”.

He blamed him for taking away Fletcher’s loved one’s ability to “hold him, talk to him, play with him, and watch him grow”.

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A dozen years before he charted a bold, new path for the USC football program, Chad Bowden was living on the pull-out couch of a cramped studio apartment in Hollywood with no clue where his life was headed.

Bowden couldn’t have dreamed up the role he’d one day occupy a few miles down the street at USC, where as the Trojans football general manager, Bowden has infused the program with new energy while putting together the top recruiting class in America.

So how did Bowden rise from that couch to being held up as one of the most consequential arrivals at USC since Pete Carroll himself?

Bowden thought that he might play college football. A few small schools had offered him opportunities to play linebacker coming out of high school in Cincinnati. But Bowden’s father, former baseball general manager Jim Bowden, didn’t think it was the right move. He worried about how his son would handle the rest of the college experience.

“He felt like it was best for me, from a maturity standpoint, to go right into working,” Bowden says.

USC football general manager Chad Bowden looks across the field during preseason camp.

(William Liang/For The Times)

Which is what led him to the tiny apartment off Highland Avenue. He split the place with Jac Collinsworth, his close high school friend, the two of them packed like sardines into a single room that doubled as the kitchen and dining space. Neither seemed to mind the close quarters. Everything became a competition, with each of them pushing the other.

“Both of us were highly motivated guys,” says Collinsworth, whose father is the famed commentator, Cris Collinsworth. “Plus we had [Chad’s] dad in our ear.”

So every morning, they would wake before sunrise to race each other to L.A. Fitness. After, they’d race back up the hill to devour the usual breakfast of egg whites — sometimes mashing in bananas for sweetness. Some days, they’d throw in a motivational video on YouTube to get the blood pumping again, before racing off to try to be the first in the office.

They were both staying up late, getting up early, grinding all day in between. But after a while, it felt to Bowden like he was running in place. He’d tried an internship with a sports agency, only to realize the agency life wasn’t for him. Then he sold Google ads for a company called Linktech, whiling away his days cold-calling strangers who weren’t exactly happy to hear from him. It gave him perspective, he says. But not much else.

It was important to Bowden to find his path as soon as possible. He’d always planned for success at a young age, Jac Collinsworth says. His father, after all, was hired by the Cincinnati Reds as the youngest GM in baseball history back in 1992, and Bowden had practically grown up in that Reds clubhouse. He rode in Ken Griffey Jr’s Lamborghini. He was in the draft rooms, the trade talks, the contract negotiations. Once, he even called out a Reds player’s lack of hustle on the basepaths — and ended up stuffed in a garbage can.

His childhood was intertwined with the game. Even dinnertime could turn on a night’s result. When the Reds won a game, father and son would go out to a local steakhouse for dinner. When they lost, Chad says, they would only eat Triscuits and cheese.

“[Chad] knew that he was going to have to work twice as hard to get that respect from his dad,” Collinsworth says.

As hard as he was working, Bowden didn’t seem to be getting any closer to finding his way in L.A. Evan Dreyer was worried about him.

Dreyer had coached Bowden as a freshman football player at Anderson High in Cincinnati, and they’d stayed in touch since. So when Dreyer was out in L.A., he checked in on his favorite former player.

“Chad needed somebody to look him in the eye and say, ‘What the hell are you doing?’” Dreyer says.

He called Bowden back soon after and offered him a job as his defensive coordinator at Western Brown High, back in Ohio.

Bowden was just 20 years old. He had no coaching experience, aside from filling in for a few weeks as an assistant baseball coach for Dreyer at 14. But Dreyer knew how much Bowden loved football. And he had no doubt that Bowden was bound for great things. He saw it in Bowden even before high school, as early as the fifth grade, when all of the kid’s energy was zeroed in on being the best possible water boy he could be. He sprinted full speed down the sideline to retrieve a loose ball. He didn’t care for school, but memorized the stats of opposing players. It was clear he took pride in the job.

USC general manager Chad Bowden, center, attends a team practice.

(USC Athletics)

But that was when football first swept Bowden up. Now, years later, Dreyer was offering him a chance to get his foot in the door.

“He called me and was like, ‘What are you doing with your life? Football is everything to you.’” Bowden says. “I just kind of sat there and said, ‘What am I doing?”

So took Dreyer up on the offer. The only problem? He had no idea what he was doing as a defensive coordinator.

The team went 1-9. The next year, he followed Dreyer to another high school, and it didn’t get much better. He dialed up blitz after blitz, just hoping for the best. One night, his defense gave up almost 80 points, and a frustrated Bowden was ejected from the game.

Still, he wasn’t one to sit idly by, waiting on a problem to solve itself. Even if there was no obvious — or rational — solution. One week, when his defense gave up over 400 rushing yards, he responded by buying huge tubs of peanut butter, convinced more sandwiches could be the key to bulking up his defensive front.

Once, he babysat for Dreyer’s 3-year old daughter and upon finding out she loved school buses, set out to stop one in the street in order to give her a ride.

There were no half-measures with Bowden, on or off the football field. He preferred to take matters into his own hands if he had to.

“That’s the best way to understand Chad,” Collinsworth said. “He will move a mountain to make something happen.”

He seemed to be in constant motion, attending school at the University of Cincinnati in addition to coaching.

After two seasons coaching high school football, Bowden decided to try a new direction. A friend of his father helped hook him up with an opportunity to shadow the senior vice president of the Miami Dolphins, who eventually helped connect him with Brian Mason, the new recruiting coordinator at Cincinnati.

Mason hired Bowden as a student intern, helping out with Cincinnati’s recruiting. It didn’t take long for him to make an impression on the rest of the staff.

Some staffers, Mason says, were admittedly “thrown off a little bit by his energy” when they first met him. But there was no doubting Bowden’s work ethic as an intern. When Cincinnati coach Luke Fickell gave him a task, coaches remember Bowden sprinting down the hallway to complete it.

“We had to tell him to leave the office, even as a student intern,” Mason said. “He’d go 100 miles per hour to get things done.”

Mason played a critical role helping Bowden focus that energy. He surrounded him with structure and taught Bowden how to be better organized without tamping down his enthusiasm.

“I owe a lot of what happened in my life to Brian Mason,” Bowden says. “Brian did such a great job of understanding that I was crazy. But he also saw the good in me.”

Mason connected Bowden with Marcus Freeman, who at the time was Cincinnati’s defensive coordinator. Bowden asked if he could sit in on meetings with Freeman and Fickell to absorb as much knowledge as he could.

Bowden didn’t stay quiet in those meetings for long. “I never shut up after that,” he says.

It was out of that back-and-forth banter that Bowden and Freeman formed a close bond. Both, according to their fellow coaches, seemed uniquely suited for keeping the other in balance. Where Freeman was the more measured and thoughtful of the two, Bowden was bold and daring. He would push the envelope, and Freeman would rein him back in if need be.

“Like yin and yang,” said Mason, who also worked with both at Notre Dame.

Bowden quickly rose through the ranks at Cincinnati, from defensive quality control assistant to recruiting director. Along the way, there was “tough love” from Freeman that, Bowden says, was exactly what he needed to hear.

Notre Dame coach Marcus Freeman and his team line up to enter the field against USC at the Coliseum on Nov. 30.

(Gina Ferazzi/Los Angeles Times)

“He gave me what I needed to be the best version of me,” he said. “‘If this is what you want to be, this is what you need to do.’”

When Freeman left in 2021 to be Notre Dame’s defensive coordinator, he brought along Bowden, who took a lesser role in South Bend. A year later, Freeman was promoted to head coach and Bowden became his recruiting director and right-hand man.

The recruiting operation quickly took on Bowden’s personality.

“We were flying fast,” says Chris O’Leary, who coached safeties at Notre Dame. “Whether it was offers, calling kids, it was rapid fire all the time. Every day was life or death.”

When it came to talking to recruits, Gerad Parker, who coached tight ends at Notre Dame, likened Bowden to “the crazy uncle at the birthday party.” During official visits, he orchestrated NBA style entrances for recruits and their families. Sometimes he showed up in costume. He memorably dressed up as a leprechaun, another time as an FBI agent.

A leprechaun costume at Notre Dame might seem silly, but Parker said Bowden owned it.

“It’s like going into character when you’re working at Disney,” Parker said. “Those people don’t roll their eyes because they’re in a Cinderella costume. They are Cinderella.”

Of course, not all of his ideas got past the cutting room floor. For one, Freeman refused Bowden’s request to jump out of a helicopter to impress recruits.

“He might bring a list of five ideas, right? And four of them are crazy,” Mason said. “He brought up helicopters on multiple occasions.”

Whatever others thought of his methods, Bowden’s approach was working. He was relentless in building relationships. Recruits raved about his impact. Notre Dame pulled in a trio of top-12 classes that would serve as the bedrock of a run to the national title game.

Michigan had already pursued Bowden to be its general manager before that 2024 run. He turned it down, in order to continue on with Freeman.

By the following January, Bowden decided to change directions. Four days after Notre Dame lost to Ohio State in the national championship, he was named USC’s new football general manager.

At the time, Bowden called the decision “a no-brainer.” While talking with reporters in March, he said “some things that were out of my control” at Notre Dame.

But to those who once worked with both Freeman and Bowden, it was unexpected..

“That had to weigh heavy on Chad,” said Parker, the Irish tight ends coach.

“[They were] like brothers,” said O’Leary, the safeties coach. “I know there’s a lot of layers behind it. But yeah, I was surprised to see him leave Notre Dame.”

By choosing USC, Bowden was once again striking out on his own, walking away from the world he knew best for the promise of building something bigger and better. Fittingly, it would bring him back to the city where his search for a career began.

In seven months at USC, he has completely revamped the front office operation with his hand-picked staff, repaired relationships with local coaches and power brokers and reinvigorated USC’s entire recruiting strategy. The Trojans’ 2026 class has soared to the top of the national recruiting rankings, with 32 commitments and climbing. And boosters are buying in, once again crowding the sidelines of football practices.

Staff members will tell you that Bowden’s impact in that short time at USC runs deeper. That his energy and his willingness to test limits and challenge norms has set a tone for the entire department.

When USC athletic director Jennifer Cohen approached Bowden during a recent football practice, she found him busy scribbling down notes.

“He had 15 things from that practice that he noticed or ideas that he had,” she said.

“He’s the eyes and ears of a program in a way that really takes the pressure off of everyone. He’s just been great within the university community, within the athletic department, with donors, with former players. We could not be more pleased with the progress that he’s made and his team has made and the impact that he’s having on USC football.”

No detail, down to the team’s toilet paper, is too small.

“His mind is always going,” said USC secondary coach Doug Belk. “I don’t know if he sleeps at night.”

Bowden has no trouble seeing the path ahead of him and shows no signs of slowing down.

“If I could be here for forever, I would,” Bowden said. “That’s how much this means to me. I think about it every day.”

THE family of a fairground worker who died after being “hit in the head by a ride” have paid tribute.

Corrie Lee Stavers, 28, tragically died in the accident at the Spanish City Summer Fair in Whitley Bay, Tyne and Wear, on Saturday afternoon.

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The dad-of-one suffered fatal injuries after a ride hit his head while he was trying to retrieve his jacket, his family said.

Speaking to MailOnline, Corrie’s dad Lee Stavers, 50, paid tribute to his son as an “amazing father”.

He explained that Corrie’s son Lennie had been “left without a father”, saying: “He absolutely doted on that child. He was an absolutely wonderful father to him.”

Lee said he believed Corrie enjoyed his work, saying he was “happy” in pictures at fairground sites.

Describing his late son, Lee said: “He was just a very kind, loving lad. He would do anything for anybody, if anybody asked him to do anything, he would just do it regardless.

“He was always one of them lads who just wanted to please. He just wanted to be loved. He was a brilliant father.”

The 50-year-old also explained how the police had spoken to them about the “absolute tragedy”, saying they understood Corrie had been operating the ride when he was hit.

They believe he may have gone to grab his jacket or another item but had then been hit by the ride.

Lee, who does not use social media, tragically revealed that he only found out about his son’s death after a colleague told him to urgently contact his family. 

A GoFundMe page has also been setup in honour of “our beloved Corrie” by his family.

The fundraiser states: “It’s with broken hearts that we share the devastating news that our beloved Corrie has passed away.

“He was tragically taken from us in an accident while working on a fairground ride. None of us were prepared for this, and the pain of losing him so suddenly is impossible to put into words.

“Our lives will never be the same without him, but his memory will live on in our hearts forever.

“We love you endlessly Corrie, and we miss you more than words can ever say. Your with your mam now. Rest in peace Corrie.”

The family added that any donations would be “highly appreciated”, since the family were “not financially ready for this”.

They continued: “Any donation towards giving our beloved Corrie the send off he deserves our family will be ever so grateful.

“We know he was a much loved young lad,any donations left over after the funeral costs will be put in a trust fund for Corrie’s five-year-old son Lennie-Lee.”

Lee revealed that Corrie used to be a very keen boxer but had been forced to stop after suffering a nose injury.

Almost £3,000 of the £4,000 target has already been raised, at time of writing.

Northumbria Police is working alongside the Health & Safety Executive (HSE) to investigate the tragedy.

José Antonio Rodríguez held a bouquet of flowers in his trembling hands.

It had been nearly a quarter of a century since he had left his family behind in Mexico to seek work in California. In all those years, he hadn’t seen his parents once.

They kept in touch as best they could, but letters took months to cross the border, and his father never was one for phone calls. Visits were impossible: José was undocumented, and his parents lacked visas to come to the U.S.

Now, after years of separation, they were about to be reunited. And José’s stomach was in knots.

He had been a young man of 20 when he left home, skinny and full of ambition. Now he was 44, thicker around the middle, his hair thinning at the temples.

Would his parents recognize him? Would he recognize them? What would they think of his life?

José had spent weeks preparing for this moment, cleaning his trailer in the Inland Empire from top to bottom and clearing the weeds from his yard. He bought new pillows to set on his bed, which he would give to his parents, taking the couch.

Finally, the moment was almost here.

Gerardo Villarreal Salazar, 70, left, is reunited with his grandson Alejandro Rojas, 17.

Leobardo Arellano, 39, left, and his father, José Manuel Arellano Cardona, 70, are reunited after 24 years.

Officials in Mexico’s Zacatecas state had helped his mother and father apply for documents that allow Mexican citizens to enter the U.S. for temporary visits as part of a novel program that brings elderly parents of undocumented workers to the United States. Many others had their visa applications rejected, but theirs were approved.

They had packed their suitcases to the brim with local sweets and traveled 24 hours by bus along with four other parents of U.S. immigrants. Any minute now, they would be pulling up at the East Los Angeles event hall where José waited along with other immigrants who hadn’t seen their families in decades.

José, who wore a gray polo shirt and new jeans, thought about all the time that had passed. The lonely nights during Christmas season, when he longed for the taste of his mother’s cooking. All the times he could have used his father’s advice.

His plan had been to stay in the U.S. a few years, save up some money and return home to begin his life.

But life doesn’t wait. Before he knew it, decades had passed and José had built community and a career in carpentry in California.

Juan Mascorro sings for the reunited families.

He sent tens of thousands of dollars to Mexico: to fund improvements on his parents’ house, to buy machines for the family butcher shop. He sent his contractor brother money to build a two-bedroom house where José hopes to retire one day.

His mother, who likes talking on the phone, kept him informed on all the doings in town. The construction of a new bridge. The marriages, births, deaths and divorces. The creep of violence as drug cartels brought their wars to Zacatecas.

And then one day, a near-tragedy. José’s father, jovial, strong, always cracking jokes, landed in the hospital with a heart that doctors said was failing. He languished there six months on the brink of death.

But he lived. And when he got out, he declared that he wanted to see his eldest son.

A framed artwork depicting the states of California and Zacatecas is a gift for families being reunited.

A full third of people born in Zacatecas live in the U.S. Migration is so common, the state has an agency tasked with attending to the needs of Zacatecanos living abroad. It has been helping elderly Mexicans get visas to visit family north of the border for years.

The state tried to get some 25 people visas this year. But the United States, now led by a president who has vilified immigrants, approved only six.

José had a childhood friend, Horacio Zapata, who also migrated to the U.S. and who hasn’t seen his father in 30 years. Horacio’s father also applied for a visa, but he didn’t make the cut.

Horacio was crestfallen. A few years back, his mother died in Mexico. He had spent his life working to help get her out of poverty, and then never had a chance to say goodbye. He often thought about what he would give to share one last hug with her. Everything. He would give everything.

He and his wife had come with José to offer moral support. He put his arm around his friend, whose voice shook with nerves.

Horacio Zapata, 48, hoped his father would be able to come to Los Angeles through the reunion program, but his visa request was denied.

East L.A. was normally bustling, filled with vendors hawking fruit, flowers and tacos. But on this hot August afternoon, as a car pulled up outside the event hall to deposit José’s parents and the other elderly travelers, the streets were eerily quiet.

Since federal agents had descended on California, apprehending gardeners, day laborers and car wash workers en masse, residents in immigrant-heavy pockets like this one had mostly stayed inside.

The thought crossed José’s mind: What if immigration agents raided the reunion event? But there was no way he was going to miss it.

Suddenly, the director of the Federation of Zacatecas Hometown Assns. of Southern California, which was hosting the reunion, asked José to rise. Slowly, his parents walked in.

Of course they recognized one another. His first thought: How small they both seemed.

José Antonio Rodríguez and his mother, Juana Contreras Sánchez, wipe tears from their eyes after being reunited.

José gathered his mother in an embrace. He handed her the flowers. And then he gripped his father tightly.

This is a miracle, his father whispered. He’d asked the Virgin for this.

His father, whose heart condition persists, was fatigued from the long journey. They all took seats. His father put his head down on the table and sobbed. José stared at the ground, sniffling, pulling up his shirt to wipe away tears.

A mariachi singer performed a few songs, too loudly. Plates of food appeared. José and his parents picked at it, mostly in silence.

At the next table, José Manuel Arellano Cardona, 70, addressed his middle-aged son as muchachito — little boy.

In the coming days, José and his parents would relax into one another’s company, go shopping, attend church. Most evenings, they would stay up past midnight talking.

José Antonio Rodríguez holds a bouquet of flowers for his mother and father.

Eventually, the parents would head back to Zacatecas because of the limit on their visas.

But for now, they were together, and eager to see José’s home. He took them by the arms as he guided them out into the California sun.

First in a series of stories profiling top high school football players by position. Today, Brady Smigiel, Newbury Park quarterback.

Honored as the The Times’ player of the year in 2024. Passed for more than 3,200 yards. Completed 49 touchdown passes. Won a Southern Section Division 2 championship. Committed to Michigan for college. Rated a five-star quarterback by one recruiting service.

Has Brady Smigiel of Newbury Park High accomplished everything he wanted to do in high school going into his senior year?

“I can argue I’m getting even hungrier,” said the 6-foot-5, 210-pounder.

His former receiver Shane Rosenthal, who is now at UCLA, has known Smigiel since their tee-ball days. Rosenthal said his best friend is never satisfied.

“He knows there’s things to improve on,” Rosenthal said. “This is just the start of his career. He’s got college next and hopefully the NFL. This is not his final destination. He knows where he wants to get to.”

Smigiel intends to keep the pedal to the metal as he plays his final season under his father, head coach Joe Smigiel. He was the one who threw a container filled with Gatorade on his father’s head last season, drawing a nasty stare because dad had a cold and didn’t need to get wet.

All is forgiven and his father would gladly accept another drenching with a little warning this time. The challenge for son will be developing chemistry with his new group of receivers and continuing to progress reading defenses, something he did extraordinarily well in dropping his interceptions to three last season after 14 in 2023.

“There’s no replacing Shane, but there are some very good athletes that came in,” Smigiel said.

Despite his success the last three seasons, which include 11,222 yards passing and 147 touchdowns, Smigiel insists he has not lost his focus.

“There’s a new challenge every season and to know I’m going to college in less than a year makes me even hungrier,” he said. “I want to be able to get better every single day.”

In April, an example of his day was getting to school at 6:30 a.m. and getting home at 8 p.m. after workouts, classes and training. He has entrusted his training to a staff dedicated to giving him the tools to succeed.

“You just want to get stronger and faster,” he said. “I’m a tall build, so there’s a lot of mass to put weight on. I dropped some bad pounds and started working on my speed training to get more explosive.”

He has made a commitment to Michigan, believing the school is the best fit for his quarterback style, academics and development on and off the field. He’s pursuing his dream — the NFL. He remembers being inspired after watching the draft with former Newbury Park and NFL defensive back Darnay Holmes.

Newbury Park coach Joe Smigiel with sons Brady, left, and Beau.

(Nick Koza)

“My dream has been to be in the NFL my whole life,” he said. “Darnay was at our house and the draft was on and my mom was having a conversation with him. He was about my age right now and his dream was to play in the NFL and the fact it happened and can happen to people you know, it really opened my eyes and is 100% a dream of mine.”

During a nutrition break last spring, Smigiel was hanging out with Rosenthal and looked up the future schedules for Michigan and UCLA. The Bruins will be in Ann Arbor in 2026, with the Wolverines coming to the Rose Bowl in 2027. The best buddies are making plans.

“We’ll be doing a jersey exchange,” Rosenthal said. “I want to be on the same field again.”

Smigiel has matured throughout high school. He has grown constantly, whether in school, his physical dimensions, or his faith. His new offensive coordinator, former Utah quarterback Cam Rising, is helping him become even more prepared for the next level.

The Smigiel journey continues, and it’s going to be quite a ride to follow.

Wednesday: Valencia running back Brian Bonner.

Quarterbacks to watch

Bryson Beaver, Vista Murrieta, 6-3, 195, Sr.: Oregon commit passed for 3,214 yards, 33 touchdowns last season

Corin Berry, Charter Oak, 6-3, 185, Sr. Purdue commit passed for 3,034 yards, 33 touchdowns in 2024

Wyatt Brown, Sherman Oaks Notre Dame, 6-4, 190, Sr.: Santa Monica transfer is ready for Mission League

Luke Fahey, Mission Viejo, 6-0, 185, Sr.: Ohio State commit has great arm, good instincts and is big-time in the clutch

Ryan Hopkins, Mater Dei, 6-3, 190, Sr.: Wisconsin commit is one of the fastest QBs in the state

Jaden Jefferson, Cathedral, 5-9, 175, Jr.: Completed 68% of his passes with only four interceptions

Koa Malau’ulu, St. John Bosco, 6-2, 175, So.: Threw for 19 touchdowns as a freshman

Ryan Rakowski, Palos Verdes, 5-11, 170, Jr. : Passed for 2,809 yards, 24 touchdowns last season

Oscar Rios, Downey, 6-3, 180, Sr.: Arizona commit is terrific passer, runner and leader

Brady Smigiel, Newbury Park, 6-5, 210, Sr.: Michigan commit has passed for 147 TDs in three seasons

New York City native Kevin Mares was killed Sunday in the La Perla neigborhood of San Juan, Puerto Rico. The 25-year-old was visiting the island to see a Bad Bunny concert.

Mares was fatally shot in the early morning hours, outside of a nightclub called Shelter for Mistreated Men. The shooting took place when several people near Mares began arguing and one pulled out a gun and shot at least three people, the Associated Press reported.

Homicide detective Sgt. Arnaldo Ruiz told the AP that Mares was an innocent bystander in the situation and that a pair of siblings from La Perla remain hospitalized after being shot. No arrests have yet been made.

Mares was joined by his girlfriend and two friends in Puerto Rico. It was his partner who ended up delivering the news of his death to Mares’ parents.

“I said, ‘What happened?’ She said, ‘I’m sorry. We lost him,’ ” Hector Mares, Kevin’s father, told CBS News New York.

“Whoever did this, took from us a piece of us, you know?” Kevin’s mother, Sandra Mares, added.

A longtime Bad Bunny fan, Mares and his friends were consistently in attendance of the “La Mudanza” singer’s concerts and had been prepping for their San Juan trip for months.

“Every time Bad Bunny comes here, they go to most all of his concerts,” Sandra Mares said.

Mares — whose parents are originally from Mexico — was born and raised in the East Elmhurst neighborhood of Queens and was studying to be a veterinarian at LaGuardia Community College.

“He got a lot of dreams. He was working as a vet technician. And at the same time he was studying,” his father told ABC 7 New York.

“He was about to propose to [his girlfriend] this fall. Yeah. He wanted to do something special. He shared that with us,” his mother added. “He was a lovely son. He cared about all of us, his family, friends. He has a lot of friends who’s really going to miss him, too.”

Now, the Mares family is asking for anyone with information about the shooter and more specifics about the incident to please step forward.

“What we’re asking the people is, if anybody knows what happened, who did this, [to say something],” his mother told CBS. “We don’t know [anything]. We want justice.”

The family is currently making efforts toward having Mares’ body returned home, but it remains in Puerto Rico as the investigation into his death is still ongoing.

Kevin’s father started a GoFundMe to raise enough money — the campaign’s target is currently $50,000 — to plan Kevin’s funeral arrangements.

“Kevin Mares was a deeply loved son, devoted friend, and a source of inspiration to everyone who knew him. His wholehearted kindness, adventurous spirit, and unwavering commitment to family made him a pillar of strength for his loved ones,” the GofundMe page states. “Family was at the center of everything he did, and his sudden passing has left an unfillable void in our lives. … Your support will help us honor Kevin’s memory and give him the farewell he deserves.”

WASHINGTON — The Trump administration on Monday released records of the FBI’s surveillance of Martin Luther King Jr. despite opposition from the slain Nobel laureate’s family and the civil rights group that he led until his 1968 assassination.

The digital document dump includes more than 240,000 pages of records that had been under a court-imposed seal since 1977, when the FBI first gathered the records and turned them over to the National Archives and Records Administration.

In a lengthy statement released Monday, King’s two living children, Martin III, 67, and Bernice, 62, said their father’s killing has been a “captivating public curiosity for decades.” But the pair emphasized the personal nature of the matter and urged that the files “be viewed within their full historical context.”

The Kings got advance access to the records and had their own teams reviewing them. Those efforts continued even as the government granted public access. Among the documents are leads the FBI received after King’s assassination and details of the CIA’s fixation on King’s pivot to international anti-war and anti-poverty movements in the years before he was killed. It was not immediately clear whether the documents shed new light on King’s life, the civil rights movement or his murder.

“As the children of Dr. King and Mrs. Coretta Scott King, his tragic death has been an intensely personal grief — a devastating loss for his wife, children, and the granddaughter he never met — an absence our family has endured for over 57 years,” they wrote. “We ask those who engage with the release of these files to do so with empathy, restraint, and respect for our family’s continuing grief.”

They also repeated the family’s long-held contention that James Earl Ray, the man convicted of assassinating King, was not solely responsible, if at all.

Bernice King was 5 years old when her father was killed at the age of 39. Martin III was 10.

A statement from the office of Director of National Intelligence Tulsi Gabbard called the disclosure “unprecedented” and said many of the records had been digitized for the first time. She praised President Trump for pushing the issue.

Release is ‘transparency’ to some, a ‘distraction’ for others

Trump promised as a candidate to release files related to President John F. Kennedy’s 1963 assassination. When Trump took office in January, he signed an executive order to declassify the JFK records, along with those associated with Robert F. Kennedy’s and MLK’s 1968 assassinations.

The government unsealed the JFK records in March and disclosed some RFK files in April.

The announcement from Gabbard’s office included a statement from Alveda King, Martin Luther King Jr.’s niece, who is an outspoken conservative and has broken from King’s children on various topics — including the FBI files. Alveda King said she was “grateful to President Trump” for his “transparency.”

Separately, Atty. Gen. Pam Bondi’s social media account featured a picture of the attorney general with Alveda King.

Besides fulfilling Trump’s order, the latest release means another alternative headline for the president as he tries to mollify supporters angry over his administration’s handling of records concerning the sex trafficking investigation of Jeffrey Epstein, who killed himself behind bars while awaiting trial in 2019, during Trump’s first presidency. Trump on Friday ordered the Justice Department to release grand jury testimony but stopped short of unsealing the entire case file.

Bernice King and Martin Luther King III did not mention Trump in their statement Monday. But Bernice King later posted on her personal Instagram account a black-and-white photo of her father, looking annoyed, with the caption “Now, do the Epstein files.”

And some civil rights activists did not spare the president.

“Trump releasing the MLK assassination files is not about transparency or justice,” said the Rev. Al Sharpton. “It’s a desperate attempt to distract people from the firestorm engulfing Trump over the Epstein files and the public unraveling of his credibility among the MAGA base.”

The King Center, founded by King’s widow and now led by Bernice King, reacted separately from what Bernice said jointly with her brother. The King Center statement framed the release as a distraction — but from more than short-term political controversy.

“It is unfortunate and ill-timed, given the myriad of pressing issues and injustices affecting the United States and the global society,” the King Center, linking those challenges to MLK’s efforts. “This righteous work should be our collective response to renewed attention on the assassination of a great purveyor of true peace.”

Records mean a new trove of research material

The King records were initially intended to be sealed until 2027, until Justice Department attorneys asked a federal judge to lift the sealing order early. Scholars, history buffs and journalists have been preparing to study the documents for new information about his assassination on April 4, 1968, in Memphis, Tenn.

The Southern Christian Leadership Conference, which King co-founded in 1957 as the civil rights movement blossomed, opposed the release. The group, along with King’s family, argued that the FBI illegally surveilled King and other civil rights figures, hoping to discredit them and their movement.

It has long been established that then-FBI Director J. Edgar Hoover was intensely interested if not obsessed with King and others he considered radicals. FBI records released previously show how Hoover’s bureau wiretapped King’s telephone lines, bugged his hotel rooms and used informants to gather information, including evidence of King’s extramarital affairs.

“He was relentlessly targeted by an invasive, predatory, and deeply disturbing disinformation and surveillance campaign orchestrated by J. Edgar Hoover through the Federal Bureau of Investigation,” the King children said in their statement.

“The intent … was not only to monitor, but to discredit, dismantle and destroy Dr. King’s reputation and the broader American Civil Rights Movement,” they continued. “These actions were not only invasions of privacy, but intentional assaults on the truth — undermining the dignity and freedoms of private citizens who fought for justice, designed to neutralize those who dared to challenge the status quo.”

The Kings said they “support transparency and historical accountability” but “object to any attacks on our father’s legacy or attempts to weaponize it to spread falsehoods.”

Opposition to King intensified even after the Civil Rights Movement compelled Congress and President Lyndon B. Johnson to enact the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and the Voting Rights Act of 1965. After those victories, King turned his attention to economic justice and international peace. He criticized rapacious capitalism and the Vietnam War. King asserted that political rights alone were not enough to ensure a just society. Many establishment figures like Hoover viewed King as a communist threat.

King’s children still don’t accept the original explanation of assassination

King was assassinated as he was aiding striking sanitation workers in Memphis, part of his explicit turn toward economic justice.

Ray pleaded guilty to King’s murder. Ray later renounced that plea and maintained his innocence until his death in 1998.

King family members and others have long questioned whether Ray acted alone or if he was even involved. Coretta Scott King asked for the probe to be reopened, and in 1998, then-Atty. Gen. Janet Reno ordered a new look. Reno’s Justice Department said it “found nothing to disturb the 1969 judicial determination that James Earl Ray murdered Dr. King.”

In their latest statement, Bernice King and Martin Luther King III repeated their assertions that Ray was set up. They pointed to a 1999 civil case, brought by the King family, in which a Memphis jury concluded that Martin Luther King Jr. had been the target of a conspiracy.

“As we review these newly released files,” the Kings said, “we will assess whether they offer additional insights beyond the findings our family has already accepted.”

Barrow writes for the Associated Press. AP journalist Safiyah Riddle contributed to this report from Montgomery, Ala.

Hunter Biden finally made news outside the MAGA mediasphere for something that’s usually the work of Fox News and other deep state disseminators: He verbally bashed the Democratic Party, CNN’s Jake Tapper, former Obama aides and even Hollywood’s devastatingly handsome ambassador George Clooney.

President Biden’s son, whose very name inspires a Pavlovian response among right-wing conspiracy theorists, appears to have pulled a page from the opposition’s playbook when during two recent interviews he leaned into grievance politics, repeatedly hurled expletives and condemned those who “did not remain loyal” to his father.

Hunter Biden’s first round of interviews since the 2024 election started out tame enough when last week on a new podcast hosted by Jaime Harrison, former chairman of the Democratic National Committee, he said that Democrats lost to Donald Trump because they abandoned his father. There was no “grand conspiracy” to hide his father’s health issues, he said. “We lost the last election because we did not remain loyal to the leader of the party. That’s my position. We had the advantage of incumbency, we had the advantage of an incredibly successful administration, and the Democratic Party literally melted down.”

Fair enough. Then it was on to Clooney, one of the first high-profile figures on the left to call for Biden to step aside from his reelection campaign after a disastrous debate performance. Hunter Biden disparagingly referred to the actor as “a brand” and told Harrison, “Do you think in Middle America, that voter in Green Bay, Wis., gives a s— what George Clooney thinks about who she should vote for?”

Then came the knockout punch. In a separate, three-hour-plus interview released Monday with YouTuber Andrew Callaghan, he said of the star: “George Clooney is not a f— actor. He is a f—, I don’t know what he is. He’s a brand. … F— him and everybody around him.”

George Clooney was among Kennedy Center honorees welcomed by President Biden at the White House on Dec. 4, 2022.

(Manuel Balce Ceneta / Associated Press)

Hunter Biden also had some words for senior Biden aide Anita Dunn. “The Anita Dunns of the world, who’s made $40 [million], $50 million off the Democratic Party, they’re all going to insert their judgment over a man who has figured out, unlike anybody else, how to get elected to the United States Senate over seven times, how to pass more legislation than any president in history, how to have a better midterm election than anyone in history and how to garner more votes than any president that has ever run.” Former Obama aide and political analyst David Axelrod was also on the list. He said Axelrod “had one success in his political life, and that was Barack Obama, and that was because of Barack Obama.”

And if the above sentiments were attributed to the current president’s sons, who’ve characterized the Democratic Party as Nazis and referred to those who were protesting immigration sweeps by the patently offensive term “mongoloids”? Meh, it’s just another Monday. But Hunter Biden, like most public-facing Democrats, is held to a different standard. When they go low, we go high. Remember that sage advice that worked for Democrats back in the late aughts and early 2010s but now sounds like advice pulled from a 1950s guide to etiquette? The younger Biden not only deviated from that lefty code but also mirrored his tormentors, then unleashed his ire onto his own party.

Hunter Biden‘s own reckless actions over the years made him grist for all manner of right-wing helmed investigations. Then there are the stupid conspiracies, whether it’s the missing laptop or that mysterious bag of cocaine found in the White House. Hard to keep track, but the younger Biden went there during his recent interview. “I have been clean and sober since June of 2019. I have not touched a drop of alcohol or a drug, and I’m incredibly proud of that,” he told Callaghan. “And why would I bring cocaine into the White House and stick it into a cubby outside of the Situation Room in the West Wing?”

But he also attributed at least one recent alleged conspiracy to those outside the right-wing cabal or, more specifically, to Jake Tapper. The CNN anchor co-wrote “Original Sin,” a provocative book that claimed President Biden’s confidants worked to conceal his declining health from the public.

Hunter Biden argued that it was nonsense and that the “ability to keep a secret in Washington is zero.”
“What sells, Jaime?” he asked Harrison. “What sells is the idea of a conspiracy.” And the public spectacle of flaming your enemy’s enemy.

Reality TV star Duane “Dog the Bounty Hunter” Chapman and his family are mourning the recent loss of one of their own.

Anthony, the reality TV star’s teenage step-grandson died on Saturday evening after he was allegedly accidentally shot by his father, Gregory Zecca — Chapman’s stepson — in Naples, Fla., The Times has confirmed. He was 13.

A spokesperson for the Collier County Sheriff’s Office told The Times on Monday that it is investigating the alleged shooting. Officers received a call about a shooting incident at an apartment on Sumter Grove Way in southern Florida at around 8:08 p.m., the spokesperson said, adding “this was an isolated incident.” No arrest has been made in connection to the incident, People reported.

According to the incident report reviewed by The Times on Monday, parts of it redacted, the responding officer heard screaming on the dispatch call. First responders arrived at the apartment and the victim — whose name was not revealed — was pronounced dead before 8:30 p.m.

In a statement shared to TMZ, which first reported on the alleged shooting, Chapman and his wife, Francie Chapman, confirmed Anthony’s death.

“We are grieving as a family over this incomprehensible tragic accident and we grieve the loss of our beloved grandson, Anthony,” the statement said. The couple also requested privacy as they grieved their loved one.

The Times did not hear back immediately from the 72-year-old reality star or his wife on Monday.

Chapman, best known for his long-running A&E reality TV show “Dog the Bounty Hunter,” married Francie Chapman (née Frane) two years after wife Beth Chapman died in 2021 following a battle with cancer.

He has been married six times and has a total of 13 children from those marriages. Zecca, 38, is Francie Chapman’s son from a previous relationship.

Connie Francis, the angelic-voiced singer who was one of the biggest recording stars of the late 1950s and early 1960s, has died. She was 87.

Her friend and publicist, Ron Roberts, announced the singer’s death Thursday, according to the Associated Press.

A month prior to her death, Francis was hospitalized for “extreme pain” following a fracture in her pelvic area. The singer, who shared details about her health with fans on social media, used a wheelchair in her later years and said she lived with a “troublesome painful hip.”

Francis emerged when rock ’n’ roll first captivated America. Her earliest hits — a dreamy arrangement of the old standard “Who’s Sorry Now?,” the cheerfully silly “Stupid Cupid” and the galloping “Lipstick on Your Collar” — fit neatly into the emerging genre’s lighter side. Although she targeted teen listeners with such songs as the spring break anthem “Where the Boys Are,” Francis ultimately gravitated toward the middle of the road, singing softly lit, tasteful pop for adult audiences.

Francis’ commercial peak roughly spanned from Elvis Presley’s induction into the U.S. Army to the Beatles first setting foot on American soil. Over that five-year period, Francis was one of the biggest stars in music, earning three No. 1 hits: “Everybody’s Somebody’s Fool,” “My Heart Has a Mind of Its Own” and “Don’t Break the Heart That Loves You.” As her singles offered familiar adolescent fare, her albums were constructed for specific demographics. During the early ’60s, she cut records dedicated to “Italian Favorites,” “Rock ’n’ Roll Million Sellers,” “Country & Western,” “Fun Songs for Children,” “Jewish Favorites” and “Spanish and Latin American Favorites,” even recording versions of her hits in Italian, German, Spanish and Japanese.

This adaptability became a considerable asset once her pop hits dried up in the mid-’60s. Francis continued to be a popular concert attraction through the 1960s, her live success sustaining her as she eased into adult contemporary fare. A number of personal tragedies stalled her career in the 1970s, but by the ’90s, her life stabilized enough for her to return to the stage, playing venues in Las Vegas, Atlantic City and elsewhere until her retirement in the 2010s.

Connie Francis circa 1960.

(Archive Photos/Getty Images)

Connie Francis was born Concetta Maria Franconero on Dec. 12, 1938, in Newark, N.J. When she was 3, her father bought her an accordion and she spent her childhood learning Italian folk songs. By age 10, her parents enrolled her in local talent contests. When her father attempted to book her on the New York-based television show “Startime,” producer George Scheck only agreed because Francis played the accordion and he was “up to here in singers.” Francis remained a fixture on “Startime” through her early teens — Scheck served as her manager during these formative years — during which time she also appeared on Arthur Grodfrey’s “Talent Scouts.” Godfrey stumbled over her Italian name, suggesting she shorten it to something “easy and Irish,” thereby giving birth to her stage name.

Scheck managed to secure Francis a record contract with MGM in 1955. As she received work dubbing her singing voice for film actresses — she subbed for Tuesday Weld in 1956’s “Rock, Rock, Rock” and Freda Holloway in 1957’s “Jamboree” — MGM steadily attempted to move her from pop to rock. Nothing clicked until Francis recorded “Who’s Sorry Now?” as a favor to her father, giving the 1923 tune a romantic sway.

“Who’s Sorry Now?” caught the ear of Dick Clark, who regularly played the record on his “American Bandstand,” which had just expanded into the national market. Clark’s endorsement helped break “Who’s Sorry Now?” and sent it into the Billboard Top 10. MGM attempted to replicate its success by having Francis spruce up old chestnuts, but to no avail. The singer didn’t have another hit until she cut “Stupid Cupid,” a song co-written by Neil Sedaka and Howie Greenfield, a pair of young songwriters at the Brill Building who were navigating the distance separating Broadway-bound pop and rock ’n’ roll.

“Stupid Cupid” was the first of many hits she’d have with the songwriters, including the slinky ‘Fallin’” and the ballad “Frankie.” She later said, “Neil and Howie never failed to come up with a hit for me. It was a great marriage. We thought the same way.” Sedaka and Greenfield weren’t the only Brill Building songwriters to command Francis’ attention: She developed a romance with a pre-fame Bobby Darin, who was chased away by her father.

Over the next few years, Francis recorded both standards and new songs from Sedaka and Greenfield, along with material from other emerging songwriters, such as George Goehring and Edna Lewis, who wrote the lively “Lipstick on Your Collar.” Within less than two years, her popularity was such that MGM released five different Connie Francis LPs for Christmas 1959: a set of holiday tunes, a greatest-hits record, an LP dedicated to country, one dedicated to rock ’n’ roll and a set of Italian music, performed partially in the original language.

Connie Francis and Neil Sedaka in 2007.

(George Napolitano / FilmMagic / Getty Images)

With her popularity at an apex, Connie Francis made her cinematic debut in the 1960 teen comedy “Where the Boys Are,” which also featured a Sedaka and Greenfield song as its theme. Francis appeared in three quasi-sequels culminating in 1965’s “When the Boys Meet the Girls,” but she never felt entirely comfortable onscreen, preferring live performance. “Vacation” became her last Top 10 single in 1962 — the same year she published the book “For Every Young Heart: Connie Francis Talks to Teenagers.” Too young to be an oldies act, Francis spent the remainder of the 1960s chasing a few trends — in 1968, she released “Connie & Clyde — Hit Songs of the ’30s,” a rushed attempt to cash in on the popularity of Arthur Penn’s controversial hit film “Bonnie and Clyde” — while busying herself on a showbiz circuit that encompassed Vegas, television variety shows and singing for troops in Vietnam.

A comeback attempt in the early 1970s was swiftly derailed by tragedy. After appearing at Long Island’s Westbury Music Fair on Nov. 8, 1974, she was sexually assaulted in her Howard Johnson’s hotel room; the culprit was never caught. Francis sued the hotel chain; she’d later win a $2.5-million settlement that helped reshape security practices in the hospitality industry. As she was recovering from her assault, she underwent a nasal surgery that went astray, leading her to lose her voice for years; it took three subsequent surgeries before she regained her ability to sing. Francis spent much of the remainder of the ’70s battling severe depression, but once her voice returned, recordings happened on occasion, including a disco version of “Where the Boys Are” in 1978.

Connie Francis.

(ullstein bild via Getty Images)

Francis returned to the public eye in the early 1980s, first as a victims rights activist, then as a live performer. Her comeback was marred by further tragedy — the murder of her brother George, a lawyer who became a government witness after pleading guilty to bank fraud; the police indicated the killing was related to organized crime.

Francis continued to work in the wake of his death, playing shows and writing her 1984 autobiography, “Who’s Sorry Now?,” but she continued to be plagued with personal problems. She told the Village Voice’s Michael Musto, “In the ’80s I was involuntarily committed to mental institutions 17 times in nine years in five different states. I was misdiagnosed as bipolar, ADD, ADHD, and a few other letters the scientific community had never heard of.” After receiving a diagnosis for post-traumatic stress disorder, Francis returned to live performances in the 1990s; one of her shows was documented on “The Return Concert Live at Trump’s Castle,” a 1996 album that was her last major-label release. When asked by the Las Vegas Sun in 2004 if life was still a struggle, she responded, “Not for the past 12 years.”

Francis regularly played casinos and theaters in the 2000s as she developed a biopic of her life with Gloria Estefan, who planned to play the former teen idol. The film never materialized. In 2010, Francis became the national spokesperson for Mental Health America’s trauma campaign. By the end of the 2010s, she retired to Parkland, Fla., and published her second memoir, “Among My Souvenirs: The Real Story, Vol. 1,” in 2017.

Connie Francis married four times. Her first marriage, to Dick Kanellis in 1964, ended after three months; her second, to Izzy Marion, lasted from 1971 to 1972. She adopted a child with her third husband, Joseph Garzilli, to whom she was wed from 1973 to 1978. Her fourth marriage, to Bob Parkinson, ended in 1986 after one year.