other

SAN DIEGO — Light rain slicked the pavement in San Diego’s East Village neighborhood on a recent morning, forcing some homeless people to scatter while others huddled under tents or slept through the drizzle.

I was on foot with Dr. Aaron Meyer, a psychiatrist frustrated by California’s most visible crisis: The failure to provide help for many of the people who need it most, despite all the programs rolled out over the years, and all the billions of dollars spent.

We see them in parks, on sidewalks and in other public spaces in obvious distress, and we’ve heard the never-ending conversations and political promises of better days. The problem goes well beyond homelessness: Thousands of severely ill people live with exasperated family members who wear themselves out trying to get help for loved ones.

“We have a history of services that have ended up prioritizing less severe people rather than the most severe,” said Meyer, a UC San Diego associate clinical professor of psychiatry who was speaking on his own behalf, as a university rep.

In searching for answers, Meyer teamed with lawyer Ann Marie Council, a former San Diego deputy city attorney who once worked in drug court. She was struck by the number of clients spun through the system countless times without getting treatment for addiction or mental illness.

“I was really sick and tired of watching people go to jail when they weren’t getting the help they needed,” said Council, who retired from public service and started Quarter Turn Strategies, a nonprofit focused on practical solutions to fractured public services.

It turns out the doctor and the lawyer make a pretty good team. In their research, they came upon a tool that could address chronic severe mental illness and addiction, and it was hiding in plain sight: in a book of California statutes, namely Section 5200 of the California Welfare and Institutions Code.

The state law governing involuntary commitments and conservatorships for people with severe mental illness is known as the Lanterman-Petris-Short Act, and it includes the commonly used Section 5150 for those deemed “gravely disabled.” The process begins with a 72-hour hold that can lead to a longer commitment, but often does not.

Section 5200 outlines a far more thorough evaluation and care plan than 5150. The 5200 process can be initiated by anybody concerned about someone who is gravely disabled or a danger to themselves or others (with misdemeanor penalties for abuse of the reporting privilege).

Dr. Susan Partovi, who has practiced street medicine in Los Angeles for many years, has a term for the 72-hour hold under 5150:

“We call it the 72-second hold,” she said.

I’ve written previously about Partovi’s moral outrage over the number of severely ill people who either are not deemed “gravely disabled” or who spin repeatedly through three-day holds and return to the same self-destructive routines. I’ve also heard her talk about who among her clients is likely to die next.

Partovi is a member of Grave Disability Workgroup of California, which has endorsed a research paper on 5200, “The Lost Legal Pathway to Mental Health Care,” co-written by Meyer and Council and released a few weeks ago by Quarter Turn. It detailed the frustrations of families, outreach workers and first responders and concluded that 5200 could help break down some of the bureaucratic barriers to life-changing mental health care.

In San Diego, as Meyer and I passed a woman trying to erect a tent in the rain and a person asleep on a littered patch of weeds, I asked him to explain the difference between 5150 and 5200.

Under a 5150 commitment, he said, a person is often brought to an emergency room for an assessment by someone who is not necessarily a behavioral health specialist. A decision is then made about whether the person meets the legal criteria for an involuntary hold.

“If they don’t, then they’re released, and there’s no requirement for any care coordination,” Meyer said. Under 5200, a full medical evaluation is required with a multidisciplinary team, “and it also requires a coordinated care plan on discharge,” raising “the hope of leading to something substantive.”

In their research, Meyer and Council found that 5200 is not known to be in use in any of the state’s 58 counties, with public officials either unaware of it or under the impression that it’s an unnecessary tool given other initiatives over the decades, and cost of implementation could be a problem.

Meyer argues that the state spends billions without addressing glaring needs, and 5200 could cost less than roller-coastering people through hospitals, courts, jails and prisons without putting them on a healthier track.

Meyer said he’s gotten pushback from civil libertarians and disability rights groups, both of which have long opposed coerced treatment and argued instead for a host of greater resources in housing and preventive healthcare, and for more outreach that can lead to voluntary treatment.

I understand the pitfalls of forced treatment, having been on a 20-year journey with someone who initially resisted help and objected to medication. It’s true that forced treatment doesn’t always get the desired outcome, and can backfire if it makes the person more resistant to treatment.

But some people can become too sick to make a decision in their own best interest, which is why we’ve seen so many of them at death’s door, living in squalor and desperation, tortured by psychosis or chewed up by killer drugs.

Care Courts, which were meant to help address this, have not yet had the anticipated impact, and some families have felt let down. Meyer and Council say that although those courts can implement 5200, that isn’t happening yet.

The fact that 5200 is little known and never used “is another example of systems failure,” said former state senator and Sacramento Mayor Darrell Steinberg.

Steinberg said although 5200 isn’t a one-step answer to homelessness or untreated severe mental and addiction illness, it’s worth implementing given the existing “set of systems that are not responsive to people who are the sickest of the sick.”

Jon Sherin, former head of L.A. County’s mental health department, called 5200 “one of the most powerful tools” available and said he tried to implement it several years ago but faced some of the same resistance described by Meyer.

“If you used it thoughtfully and had capacity, you could actually have a massive impact,” said Sherin, who urged those running for governor to “bring 5200 into the limelight and guarantee resources to counties.”

The same can be said about the race for Los Angeles mayor. Despite some progress, homelessness is still a public catastrophe, and gravely ill people are a haunting representation of policy failures.

Supporters of 5200 include Bay Area resident Teresa Pasquini, a mental health reform advocate whose brother and son have both dealt with severe mental illness. Pasquini, whose causes include “Moms on a Mission” and “Housing that Heals,” told me her son, now in his 40s, has been through the 5150 turnstile 40 times.

Pasquini said people in her circumstances have been accused of wanting to shed their troubles by having their kids locked away. All she really wants, she said, is for him to be housed and safe and given proper care.

“We need all the tools we can get … and we need 5200,” Pasquini said. “I’ve watched my son walk out the front door in handcuffs over 40 times. Treatment is not a bad word.”

steve.lopez@latimes.com

Populist Sen. Bernie Sanders on Wednesday formally kicked off the campaign to place a billionaires tax on the November ballot, framing the proposal as something larger than a debate about economic and tax policy as he appeared at a storied Los Angeles venue.

“The billionaire class no longer sees itself as part of American society. They see themselves as something separate and apart, like the oligarchs,” he told about 2,000 people at the Wiltern. The independent senator from Vermont compared them to kings, queens and czars of yore who believed they had a divine right to rule.

These billionaires “have created huge businesses with revolutionary technologies like AI and robotics that are literally transforming the face of the Earth,” he said, “and they are saying to you and to everybody in America, who the hell do you think you are telling us what we — the ruling elite, the millionaires, the billionaires, the richest people on Earth — who do you think you are telling us what we can do or not?”

California voters can show the billionaires “that we are still living in a democratic society where the people have some power,” Sanders said.

The senator is promoting a labor union’s proposal to impose a one-time 5% tax on the assets of California billionaires and trusts to backfill federal healthcare funding cuts by the Trump administration. Supporters of the contentious effort began gathering voter signatures to place the measure on the November ballot earlier this year. Sanders previously endorsed the proposal on social media and in public statements, and said he would seek to create a national version of the wealth tax.

But Wednesday’s event, a rally that lasted more than two hours and featured a lengthy performance by Rage Against the Machine guitarist Tom Morello, was framed as the formal launch of the campaign.

“Some people are free to choose between five-star restaurants, while others choose which dumpster will provide their next meal,” Morello said. “Some are free to choose between penthouse suites, while others are free to choose in which gutter to lay their heads.”

The guitarist’s comments came amid a set that included Rage’s protest song “Killing in the Name” and Bruce Springsteen’s social justice ballad “The Ghost of Tom Joad.”

“The people who’ve changed the world in progressive, radical or even revolutionary ways,” Morello said, “did not have any more money, power, courage, intelligence or creativity than anyone here tonight.”

Milling about outside the Wiltern, a historic Art Deco venue, were workers being paid $10 per signature they gathered to help qualify the proposal for the November ballot. Inside, attendees heard from labor leaders, healthcare workers and others whose lives are being affected by federal funding cuts to healthcare.

Lisandro Preza said he was speaking not only only as a leader of Unite Here Local 11, which represents more than 32,000 hospitality workers, but also as someone who has AIDS and recently lost his medical coverage.

“For me, this fight is very personal. Without my health coverage, the thought of going to the emergency room is terrifying,” he said. “That injection I rely on costs nearly $10,000 a month. That shot keeps my disease under control. Without it, my health, my life, are at risk, and I’m not alone. Millions of Americans are facing the same after massive federal healthcare cuts are putting our hospitals on the brink of collapse.”

Sanders, who punctuated his remarks with historic statistics about wealth in the United States and anecdotes about billionaires’ purchases of multiple yachts and planes, tied the impending healthcare cuts to broader problems of growing income and wealth inequality; the consolidation of corporate ownership, including over media outlets; the decline in workers’ wages despite increased productivity; and the threats to the job market of artificial intelligence and automation. He said all these issues were grounded in the greed of the nation’s wealthiest residents.

“For these people, enough is never enough,” he said. “They are dedicated to accumulating more and more wealth and power … no matter how many low-income and working-class people will die because they no longer have health insurance.”

“Shame! Shame!” the audience screamed.

In addition to the wealth tax event, Sanders also plans to use his time in California to meet with tech leaders and speak on Friday at Stanford University about the effects of artificial intelligence and automation on American workers alongside Rep. Ro Khanna (D-Fremont).

Millions of California voters deeply support the Vermont senator, who won the state’s 2020 Democratic presidential primary over Joe Biden by eight points, and narrowly lost the 2016 Democratic primary to Hillary Clinton.

Sanders were the first presidential candidate Elle Parker, 30, ever cast a ballot for in a presidential election.

“He’s inspired me,” said the podcaster, who lives in East Hollywood. “I just love the way he uses his words to inspire us all.”

Supporters proposed the wealth tax to make up for the massive federal funding cuts to healthcare that Trump signed last year. The California Budget & Policy Center estimates that as many as 3.4 million Californians could lose Medi-Cal coverage, rural hospitals could shutter, and other healthcare services would be slashed unless a new funding source is found.

But the tax proposal is controversial, creating a notable schism among the state’s Democrats because of concerns that it will prompt an exodus of the state’s wealthy, who are the major source of revenue that buttresses California’s volatile budget.

Gov. Gavin Newsom is among the Democrats who oppose it, as is San Jose Mayor Matt Mahan, who is among the dozen candidates running to replace the termed-out governor.

Mahan argued that the proposal had already hurt the state’s finances by driving economic investment and tax revenue out of California to tax-friendly environs.

“We need ideas that are sound, not just political proposals that sound good,” he said. “The answer is to close the federal tax loopholes the ultra-wealthy use to escape paying their fair share and invest those funds in paying down our debt, rebuilding our infrastructure, and protecting our most vulnerable families from skyrocketing healthcare premiums. The only winners in this proposal are the workers and taxpayers of Florida and Texas, who will take our jobs and benefit from the capital and tax revenue California is losing.”

A group affiliated with the governor plans to run digital ads opposing the proposal featuring Newsom along with other politicians on both sides of the aisle, as first reported by the New York Times.

The proposal has received more expected and unified backlash from the state’s conservatives and business leaders, who have launched ballot measures that could nullify part if not all of the proposed wealth tax. This is dependent on which, if any, of the measures qualify for the ballot — the number of votes each receives in November compared to the labor effort.

Silicon Valley billionaires, notably PayPal co-founder Peter Thiel and venture capitalist David Sacks — both major Trump supporters — announced they had already decamped California because of the effort.

Rob Lapsley, president of California Business Round Table, added that if the wealth tax is approved, it would destroy the state’s innovation economy, destabilize tax revenue and ultimately result in all Californians paying higher taxes.

“Let’s be clear — this $100-billion tax increase isn’t just a swipe at California’s most successful entrepreneurs; it’s a tax no one can afford because it weakens the entire economic ecosystem that supports jobs, investment, wages, and public services for everyday Californians,” he said. “When high earners leave, the cost doesn’t vanish — it lands on everyone through fewer jobs, less investment, and a weaker tax base — a recipe for new and higher taxes for everyone.”

CAREFREE, Ariz. — Elizabeth H. paused recently outside the post office in this small, high-desert community, not far from where Easy Street meets Nonchalant Avenue.

She felt neither easy nor nonchalant.

“I think the climate imposed by the Trump administration is really sad and scary,” said Elizabeth, who asked to withhold her last name to avoid being attacked for the views she expressed.

“I don’t like the way that ICE is being used to bully citizens and even just people who are brown,” she continued. “And I don’t like that governors of blue states are being shut out while governors of red states are being welcomed. I just don’t think he treats us like we’re all Americans.”

For his part, Anthony D. finds little not to like about President Trump. He, too, asked not to use his last name, as did several others who agreed to talk politics.

“We finally don’t have a— in office that are destroying our country and worrying about everybody else in the world,” said Anthony, 66, a plumbing contractor and proudly blunt-spoken New York native. (Just like Trump, he pointed out.) “I mean, his tariffs are working. The negotiations are working. I just see a lot of positive coming out of that office.”

Even so, there’s something that bothers him: The way so many fellow citizens view the president and his America First agenda.

“Most people don’t like what he says, but look what he’s doing,” Anthony said as the late-morning crowd trickled into an upscale North Scottsdale shopping center. “You can hate the person, but don’t hate the message. He’s trying to do the right thing.”

Here in central Arizona, a prime battleground in November’s midterm election, there is precious little agreement about Trump, his policies and motivations.

Supporters see the president turning things around after four disastrous years of Joe Biden. Critics see him turning the country into a place they barely recognize.

There is puzzlement on both sides.

Over what others believe. Over how others can possibly believe what they believe, see the things they see and perceive Trump the way they perceive him.

And although some are eager for the midterm elections as a way to corral the president — “I don’t think they should only impeach, I think they should imprison,” Brent Bond, a 59-year-old Scottsdale artist, said of his hopes for a Democratic Congress — others fear an end to Trump’s nearly unfettered reign.

Or that nothing will change, regardless of what happens at the polls in November.

“The fact is, Trump is going to keep Trumping until he’s done,” said Elizabeth H., who’s semiretired at age 55 after a career in financial services. “My only relief is that he’s an old, old man and he’s not going to be here forever.”

Brent Bond would like to see Trump imprisoned, not just impeached.

(Mark Z. Barabak / Los Angeles Times)

Arizona’s 1st Congressional District climbs from northeastern Phoenix to the mountainous heart of the Sonoran Desert. It takes in the affluent enclaves of Scottsdale and Paradise Valley and — where the urban sprawl finally yields to cactus, palo verde and other flora — Carefree and the Old West-themed Cave Creek.

It is the whitest, wealthiest and best-educated of Arizona’s nine congressional districts, home to numerous upscale resorts, major medical campuses and a large population of retirees comfortably settled in one of many gated communities.

Affordability, as in struggling just to get by, is not a pressing issue here.

In 2020, Biden carried the district 50% to 49%. Four years later, Trump beat Kamala Harris 51% to 48%.

(The Down Ballot, which crunches election data, rated Arizona’s 1st District the median of 435 congressional districts nationwide, meaning in 2024 half were redder on the presidential level and half were bluer.)

For more than a decade, the area has been represented by Republican Dave Schweikert, a local political fixture since the 1990s.

He’s had to fight hard for reelection in recent years as the district, like the whole of Arizona, has grown more competitive. Rather than run again, Schweikert announced he would give up his seat to try for governor. The result is a free-for-all and one of the relatively few toss-up House races anywhere in the country.

A passel of candidates is running and the result will help determine whether Democrats, who need to flip three seats, will seize control of the House in November.

Despite those high stakes, however, the race doesn’t seem to have generated much voter interest, at least not yet. In dozens of interviews across the district, it was the relentless Trump who drew the most attention, admiration and exasperation.

Moe Modjeski, a supporter, allowed as how the president “is no altar boy.”

Even so, “I’ll take his policies over someone that might be nice and polite,” said the 69-year-old Scottsdale resident, a financial advisor who cited the sky-scraping stock market as one example of Trump’s success. “I mean, gas is about half the price it was a year or two ago.”

But for Liz R., who’s “never been a sky-is-falling type,” it certainly feels that way. The 75-year-old cited “everything from tariffs to ICE to destroying the healthcare system and controls for pollution.”

“I lived through the ‘60s and 70s and can’t remember a time when I feared so much for the future of our country,” said Liz, a retired medical technologist.

She’ll vote for a Democrat in November — to put a check on Trump, not because the Carefree resident has great faith in the party or its direction.

“I wish the Dems would get it together and maybe we could get more of a centrist that could unite and not get hung up on some of these social issues,” she said. “There’s a lot of economic issues, bread-and-butter issues, and I think that’s why the Republicans won [in 2024], because of the problems with immigration and inflation.”

As a border state, Arizona has long been at the forefront of the political fight over immigration. It was here lawmakers passed — and opponents spent years battling — legislation that effectively turned police into immigration officers, requiring them to demand the papers of anyone suspected of being in the country illegally

Thomas Campbell, with Keegan and Guinness, blamed blue-state politicians for any overreach by ICE agents.

(Mark Z. Barabak / Los Angeles Times)

Now that aggressive approach has become national policy, which is fine by Thomas Campbell, a retired architect and staunch Trump backer. He blamed any enforcement overreach on blue-state lawmakers.

“For some reason, the Democrats have decided they want to side with the criminals, so they don’t allow their police departments to cooperate,” said Campbell, 72, who stopped outside Paradise Valley’s town hall while running errands with his Irish setters, Guinness and Keegan. “If that wasn’t the case, there wouldn’t be any” controversy over ICE’s tactics.

Martha Cornelison agreed the border with Mexico needed to be secured and that serious lawbreakers should be deported.

But why, she wondered, are immigration agents scooping up honest taxpayers, parents with children born in the U.S. and others keeping on the straight and narrow?

“I think they’re going after the wrong people,” said the 76-year-old Scottsdale retiree as a friend, Lily, nodded in agreement. The two were sharing a bench in Scottsdale’s pueblo-inspired civic plaza, a nearby fountain burbling in the 80-degree sunshine.

“I think we need to look at our county jails, look at our city jails,” said Cornelison, who made her living selling large appliances. “How many illegal immigrants are, say, in Florence, which is our state prison? Send them back. Don’t go after Mr. Gonzalez who’s doing my lawn. Empty out our prisons.”

Back at the North Scottsdale shopping center, Denise F. was walking Chase, her Shih Tzu, past a parking lot brimming with Teslas, Mercedes and Cadillac SUVs.

The 73-year-old voted for Trump because she couldn’t abide Harris. But she’s disgusted with the president.

“I don’t like the division in the country. I think Trump thinks he’s a king,” said Denise, a retired banker. “He’s poking the bear with Venezuela and Greenland, Iran” — she poked the air as she named each country — “to see who he can engage in a possible war, which is not the way I think the United States should be.”

As Denise was finishing up, Anthony D., her friend and neighbor, strolled up and joined the conversation, offering his laudatory view of the president. “Trump’s a businessman and he’s running the country like a business,” Anthony said, as Denise looked on impassively.

“How did I do?” he asked after saying his piece.

“Great,” Denise replied amiably and the two walked off together, Chase between them.

Support for James Van Der Beek’s family continues to pour in. The GoFundMe created to support them following the “Dawson’s Creek” star’s death approached $2.3 million in donations Friday morning.

Steven Spielberg and his wife Kate Capshaw are among the celebrity donors who have contributed to the fundraiser organized by the late actor’s friends. The couple’s donation is listed as $25,000. Those familiar with Van Der Beek’s breakout role on the millennial teen drama know that Spielberg is Dawson Leery’s favorite director.

Originally airing from 1998 to 2003, “Dawson’s Creek” was a seminal teen drama that followed four friends growing up in a small coastal town as they navigated their dreams, relationships and various coming-of-age milestones. Van Der Beek’s Dawson was an aspiring filmmaker whose dreams were bigger than his small hometown. Along with friends Joey (Katie Holmes), Pacey (Joshua Jackson) and Jen (Michelle Williams), Dawson grappled with very relatable teen dilemmas including heartbreak, betrayal and bad decisions.

The fundraiser, which had more than 44,000 donors as of Friday morning, was organized to help support Van Der Beek’s wife and children, who “are facing an uncertain future” due to the financial strain of the late actor’s medical costs. The late actor died following a battle with colorectal cancer. Funds will be used to “help cover essential living expenses, pay bills, and support the children’s education,” the organizers wrote.

Van Der Beek revealed in 2012 that he had been paid “almost nothing” for his work on “Dawson’s Creek” and had not received any residuals from the hit show.

“There was no residual money,” he told “Today.” “I was 20. It was a bad contract. I saw almost nothing from that.”

Before his death, Van Der Beek auctioned off personal memorabilia and sold collectibles to help pay for his cancer treatments. In September, his “Dawson’s Creek” co-stars helped organize and stage a reunion fundraiser to support Van Der Beek and his family — a reunion the actor had to miss because of a virus. “Black Bird” actor Paul Walter Hauser had also been raising funds through Cameo videos and auctions to help the late actor prior to his death.

Besides Spielberg, celebrity donors to Van Der Beek’s GoFundMe also reportedly include Zoe Saldaña, Jon M. Chu, Derek Hough, Busy Philipps, Jenna Dewan and others.

Van Der Beek’s “Dawson’s Creek” colleagues have also been among the many who have shared tributes to the late actor.

“Several times today, from my heart, I’ve tried to form the words to express the beautiful brilliance of James and what his presence has meant to my life,” “Dawson’s” creator Kevin Williamson wrote Thursday in a post shared on Instagram. “But I am truly at a loss for words. I will have to trust that one day those words will come… But today, all I can think about is Kimberly and the entire Van Der Beek family.”

Holmes, meanwhile, shared a handwritten note addressed to Van Der Beek on Instagram Wednesday. She was the first of “Dawson’s Creek’s” surviving core quartet to publicly acknowledge Van Der Beek’s death.

“Thank you,” Holmes wrote in her note, which was addressed to Van Der Beek. “To share a space with your imagination is sacred — breathing the same air in the land of make believe and trusting that each others’ hearts are safe in their expression.”

In her remembrance, Holmes highlighted their shared “laughter, conversations about life, James Taylor songs” and their “adventures of a unique youth.” She also highlighted Van Der Beek’s “Bravery. Compassion. Selflessness [and] Strength.”

“I mourn this loss with a heart holding the reality of his absence and deep gratitude for his imprint on it,” wrote Holmes, who also sent love to Van Der Beek’s wife and children in her message.

Other members of the extended “Dawson’s Creek” family, including actors Chad Michael Murray, Kerr Smith and Sasha Alexander, have also been among those offering condolences and paying tribute to Van Der Beek and his family online.

“James Van Der Beek was one in a billion and he will be forever missed and i don’t know what else to say,” wrote Busy Philipps in her Instagram tribute. “He was my friend and i loved him and i’m so grateful for our friendship all these years.”

CORTINA D’AMPEZZO, Italy — Axel Brown, the pilot of Trinidad and Tobago’s bobsled team, came to the Milan-Cortina Winter Games with a simple goal.

“Just don’t come last,” he said. “We know that there is a 0% chance of us contending for medals. It doesn’t matter if we have the absolute best day we’ve ever had.

“That’s just the reality of it. It’s not defeatist, it’s not negative. It’s just being realistic.”

But it’s also realistic to believe that Trinidad, just by being in the competition, is furthering something of a revolution in the Winter Olympics in general, and in bobsledding in particular.

When Jamaica debuted in the event in 1988, it was so novel it inspired the 1993 Disney movie “Cool Runnings.” Now, it’s no longer unusual to see a team from a tropical climate competing in the Winter Games; there are 11 Caribbean and South American countries, plus Puerto Rico, competing in the Milan-Cortina Olympics.

When the bobsled competition in Cortina begins Sunday, Trinidad will have teams in the two- and four-man events for the first time, while Jamaica will compete in both those events as well as the monobob. Brazil will also be there.

And Brown says it’s only a matter of time — and money — before others join and start contending for medals.

“There’s a very deep talent pool in Caribbean bobsled, one that could make a world-class bobsled program without a doubt,” he said.

That’s because bobsled races are often won or lost at the start, where speed, explosive power and acceleration are vital in getting the 400-pound sled moving. Sprinters have all those traits.

“Even more specific, it’s usually big sprinters,” said Curtis Tomasevicz, a former football player at Nebraska who won Olympic gold and silver medals in the bobsled before becoming a coach with the U.S. team. “They’ve got just an athleticism that is very applicable to pushing sleds.”

Jamaica takes part in a training run at the Milan-Cortina Olympic Games on Friday.

(Al Bello / Getty Images)

And the best sprinters in the world come from the Caribbean — so many, in fact, that trying to make a national team for the Summer Olympics can seem like trying to win the lottery. The Winter Games offer another path.

“In Trinidad and Tobago, there’s a wealth of sprinting talent. So an athlete that in another nation may be the best in the country doesn’t necessarily get a look in Trinidad,” Brown said. “What we’ve been able to do is kind of give those athletes that were maybe on the fringe an option at achieving all of their sporting goals, just doing it in a different way.

“They’ve been training for bobsled their entire lives. They just didn’t know it.”

The transition can be difficult just the same. The first time Trinidad’s Micah Moore, a former sprinter, rode a sled, he said he thought he was going to die.

“I was scared out of my mind,” he said. “I was legitimately feeling, ‘I just want this to be over.’

“After that feeling came off, I was like, ‘Let’s go again.’ It’s an adrenaline rush. There’s no amount of words I could put to say how it felt in that moment.”

If Caribbean bobsledders are deep in talent, what they lack are world-class facilities and funding. In the former they’re hardly alone, said Tomasevicz.

“There are a lot of other nations that obviously don’t have a home track to practice on,” he said. “Even Great Britain, they don’t have a track in their country. So they have to spend time in other nations actually training for the sport.”

Trying to find the money is an even bigger problem — especially for Trinidad, which Brown said was the only team in Cortina that didn’t receive government funding.

“Bobsled is an expensive sport,” Trinidad’s Xaverri Williams said. “We’ve been trying to negotiate with our [national Olympic committee], our Ministry of Sport, reaching out to individuals who are willing to help us.”

Trinidad doesn’t even have a decent sled; it will be racing Sunday with an old secondhand one the team owes money on. Getting a new one that would be competitive with the best in the world could easily cost $250,000 or more.

“You need the funds to further develop the broader program, the recruitment, the [research and development] of the equipment. Everything that there is involved in bobsled,” said Brown, was born in England to a Trinidadian mother, which allows him to compete for the island in the Olympics. “And you need to be able to sustain that.”

You also need the belief that it’s possible to succeed in an icy winter sport even though you’re from a sun-washed country where the average annual temperature is 80 degrees. Jamaica provided that.

“We do in fact look up to them,” Williams said. “When those guys initially slided, it was an eye-opener for the rest of the world, that a Caribbean nation could actually compete. They inspired us.”

“I’m very proud of that,” said Chris Stokes, a four-time Olympian and member of the “Cool Runnings” team who is now president of the country’s bobsled federation.

The next step is to outgrow the novelty and become medal contenders, something Stokes says Jamaica can do by the 2034 Games in Salt Lake City. A top-12 finish in Cortina would keep them on pace to do that, he said.

As for Trinidad and Tobago, Brown said they faced so many challenges just getting to Italy that they considered it a victory when they checked into the Olympic village.

“Our gold medal,” he said “was qualifying.”

L.A. Mayor Karen Bass was having a really bad week.

But then it turned into a pretty good week, and she must have breathed a sigh of relief.

Until the Saturday morning surprise.

I had to set fire to my scorecard, and to the column I had just drafted, which touched on all the expected big-name challengers who had bowed out of the mayoral race in the past several days: L.A. County Supervisor Lindsey Horvath, billionaire businessman Rick Caruso (who forced a runoff with Bass the last time around), and former L.A. Unified schools chief Austin Beutner.

It was looking as though we wouldn’t get a badly needed, monthslong, toe-to-toe face-off about all that’s right and wrong in the sprawling metropolis of high hopes and low expectations. In a conversation I had with Loyola Marymount University’s Fernando Guerra, a decades-long observer of the local political scene, he made this observation about the dull political season that was shaping up:

“What is interesting to me is that no one from the establishment political class is running against [Bass] when she is clearly vulnerable.”

Vulnerable because of her handling of the Palisades fire and its aftermath.

Vulnerable because of limited progress on core issues such as homelessness, housing affordability and the shameful condition of streets, sidewalks and parks.

But then came Saturday morning, when, in an unexpected move, L.A. City Councilmember Nithya Raman decided to step up, injecting a new element of drama into the race.

It was a surprise because Raman and Bass are not political enemies. In fact, they’ve largely been allies and have endorsed each other’s reelection bids.

So what was Raman thinking in signing up for a challenge in which she is clearly the underdog?

“I have deep respect for Mayor Bass. We’ve worked closely together on my biggest priorities and her biggest priorities, and there’s significant alignment there,” Raman told The Times. “But over the last few months in particular, I’ve really begun to feel like unless we have some big changes in how we do things in Los Angeles, that the things we count on are not going to function anymore.”

There’s more to it than that, in political terms. Raman is to the left of Bass and the traditional left in Los Angeles. She and three other council members supported by the Democratic Socialists of America have changed the conversation at City Hall, with more emphasis on social service, housing and labor issues, and less on traditional law enforcement.

Among their supporters are renters, immigrants, young adults, the underserved, and the frontline workers in the minimum-wage economy.

Raman’s candidacy — along with DSA candidates for other city offices — makes the election something of a referendum on the evolving center of political clout in L.A. It raises the question of whether the city is ready to blow things up and move further in the direction of New York City, which just elected as mayor the ultra-progressive Zohran Mamdani.

And for all of that, it also raises the question of whether progressives can both deliver on their promises and also balance a budget. No easy task, there.

As for Bass, you don’t get as far in politics as she has — from the state Legislature to Congress to City Hall — without sharp survival skills and without collecting friends you can count on, even when the road to reelection is filled with potholes.

And even when an ally comes after you.

“Wow, what a surprise,” Guerra said upon Raman’s entry into the race.

He considers her a formidable foe who was the first to prove “that the DSA can win in Los Angeles” and who brings several advantages to a campaign against Bass.

For one, she has a record of some success on homelessness in her district and was involved in that cause in the Silver Lake area before she was in public office, when she identified a startling lack of coordination and continuity. And by virtue of her age, 44, she’s aligned with younger voters hungry for change in political leadership.

It’s possible that with Raman in the race, and the nuts-and-bolts issues of governance now center stage, there will be slightly less emphasis on Bass’s handling and mishandling of the Palisades fire, which destroyed thousands of properties, wiped out a vibrant community and killed 12 people.

When I said at the top of this column that Bass was having a really bad week, I was referring to the Palisades fire and the latest story from Times investigative reporters Alene Tchekmedyian and Paul Pringle. They had already established that the Los Angeles Fire Department had failed to pre-deploy adequately for the fire, and that it had failed to extinguish an earlier fire that later triggered the epic disaster.

The reporters had also established that the so-called “after-action” report on the fire had been altered to downplay failures by the department and the city, all of which was scandalous enough.

But on Wednesday, Tchekmedyian and Pringle reported that Bass was involved in the revisions despite her earlier denials. The mayor “wanted key findings about the LAFD’s actions removed or softened before the report was made public,” according to sources.

Bass vehemently denied the allegations and blasted The Times. But even before the latest story, Bass’s Palisades report card was one that a prudent person might have fed to the dog. She had left the country just before the fire despite warnings of potentially cataclysmic conditions. And multiple other missteps followed, including the botched hiring and early departure of a rebuilding czar.

Raman has not targeted Bass’ handling of the fire, and we’ll see if that changes. I don’t consider the response to the ICE raids to be a point of contention between Raman and Bass. One of the mayor’s strengths in office has been her defense of the city’s immigrants and her pushback against President Trump.

“Bass gets high marks resisting ICE,” Guerra said of polling and public opinion surveys he has either conducted or reviewed. “But on other issues, including homelessness, she does not do well.”

Two-thirds of voters in one poll said they would not back Bass in the June primary, Guerra said. But that poll did not offer an alternative to Bass, and now there is one.

Actually, several. The others include Brentwood tech entrepreneur Adam Miller, who’s got money to spend; reality TV personality Spencer Pratt, a Republican who lost his Palisades home and has been hammering the mayor; and minister/community organizer Rae Huang, a Democratic socialist.

Do they matter, given the odds against them and the entry of Raman into the race?

Yes, they might. Bass needs more than 50% of the June primary vote to win outright. But with Raman and the others grabbing varying percentages of the vote, a two-person November runoff is likely and the candidates will almost surely be Bass and Raman.

After a crazy week in L.A., allies are now foes.

And the race for mayor just got interesting.

steve.lopez@latimes.com

Shaboozey has responded to the backlash over remarks he made at the 2026 Grammy Awards.

In a statement posted on the social media site X Monday, the country singer-songwriter said he wanted to “acknowledge the conversation” spurred by his heartfelt speech after his historic Grammy win for country duo/group performance.

After sharing that his mother, who he said worked “three to four jobs just to provide for [him] and [his] four siblings as an immigrant in this country,” had just retired from a 30-year career as a registered nurse, Shaboozey dedicated his awards to all immigrants Sunday.

While many praised his remarks for uplifting of immigrant communities at a time when they are increasingly being targeted by the federal government, others felt the musician had overlooked the history and experiences of Native Americans and Black Americans by not mentioning them. Native Americans were forcibly removed from their lands in the development of this nation and enslaved people were brought to America involuntarily.

“To be clear, I know and believe that we — Black people, have also built this country,” Shaboozey wrote in his statement. “My words were never intended to dismiss that truth. I am both a Black man and the son of Nigerian immigrants and in the overwhelming moment of winning my first Grammy my focus was on honoring the sacrifices my parents made by coming to this country to give me and my siblings opportunities they never had.”

The “Amen” singer also acknowledged that winning his Grammy on “the first day of Black History Month and becoming the first Black man to win Best Country Duo is Black history.”

“It stands on the foundation laid by generations of Black people who fought, sacrificed, and succeeded long before me,” Shaboozey’s statement continued. “This moment belongs to all of us.”

On the Grammys stage Sunday, Shaboozey had concluded his speech by expressing his appreciation of and support to all immigrant communities.

“Immigrants built this country, literally,” he said. “So this is for them. For all children of immigrants. This is also for those who came to this country in search of better opportunity, to be part of a nation that promised freedom for all, and equal opportunity to everyone willing to work for it. Thank you for bringing your culture, your music, your stories and your traditions here. You give America color, I love y’all so much.”

He was just one of many Grammy-winning artists who directly or indirectly addressed the current political climate regarding federal immigration raids in Minnesota, where two protesters have been killed by federal officers, and in other states including California. Bad Bunny, Billie Eilish and Kehlani were among the others who spoke out.

How do you find the missing?

If you do find them, how can you help?

Oakland civil rights attorney James Cook has been on the ground in Minnesota for months figuring out answers to these question as he goes.

A fast-talking Minneapolis native who still lives in the Twin Cities part time, Cook is one of a handful of attorneys who have dropped everything to aid (for free) those caught up in the federal crackdown — protesters, immigrants and detained citizens — too many of whom have found themselves facing deportation, arrest or even been disappeared, at least for a time.

Civil rights attorney James Cook in the rear view mirror as he makes phone calls in his car in Minneapolis.

(Caroline Yang/For The Times)

“They are leaders that are on the ground really helping people through this process,” Minnesota school board member Chauntyll Allen told me.

She’s one of the protesters arrested inside a local church, charged with conspiracy to deprive others of their constitutional rights by Pam Bondi’s politicized Department of Justice, which also Friday arrested journalist Don Lemon for the same incident. Cook is one of the lawyers now representing Allen.

“It shows us that the judicial arm, or some of the judicial arm of our democracy, is willing to step up and ensure that our democracy stands strong,” Allen said of Cook and others like him.

While it’s the images of clashes in the streets that captivate media and audiences, it’s lawyers like Cook who are fighting an existential battle in the background to preserve the rule of law in a place where it is increasing opaque, to put it gently.

The legal work behind detentions has largely been an overlooked battlefield that will likely rage on years after ICE departs the streets, leaving in its wake hundreds if not thousands of long-and-winding court cases.

Beyond the personal fates they will determine, the outcome of the civil litigation Cook and others are spearheading will likely force whatever transparency and accountability can be pulled from these chaotic and troubling times.

It’s time-consuming and complicated work vital not just to people, but history.

Or, as Cook puts it, “I’ll be 10 years older when all this s— resolves.”

Federal agents stand guard against a growing wall of protesters on Jan. 24 in Minneapolis, just hours after Alex Pretti was shot by federal agents.

(Caroline Yang/For The Times)

Cook told me this while on his way to the Bishop Henry Whipple Federal Building where some detainees are being held, maybe. It’s hard to find out. A few years ago, when immigration enforcement in Minnesota ramped up under the first Trump term, activists tried to get the name of the building changed, arguing Whipple, the first Protestant Episcopal bishop in the state, had been an advocate of the marginalized and wouldn’t want his name associated with what the feds were up to.

It didn’t work, but the movement’s slogan, “What would Whipple do?” still has resonance in this town, where two American citizens, Alex Pretti and Renee Good, have been fatally shot while protesting — incidents ugly enough that Bruce Springsteen wrote a song about them.

Cook is well aware that the guns carried by the federal agents are not for show, even without the Boss’ new ballad. Just a few days ago, one of the first times he drove his beat-up truck up to the gate, the federal guards at Whipple pointed their guns at him.

“I’m like, ‘Hey, I’m going to take my keys out of the ignition, drop them on the ground. So please don’t shoot,’” he said.

They lowered the guns, but Cook was scared, a feeling that doesn’t come easy.

Long before his law degree, when he was a punk-rock loving teen in the 1980s, fresh out of Southwest High, the public school not too far from Whipple, a former coach convinced him to give up college dreams and instead pursue a shot at making the first Muay Thai kickboxing team at the Olympics.

The martial art ended up not making it as an official Olympic sport, but the experience launched Cook into a professional boxing and kickboxing career that took him to competitions around the world, and taught him fear is not a reason to back down.

But, “Father Time is undefeated,” Cook said. “I got older and I started losing fights, and I was like, all right, time to get back to life.”

That eventually led him to obtaining a law degree in San Francisco, where after an intern stint as a public defender, he decided he wanted to be a trial attorney, fighting in court.

Civil rights attorney James Cook has been doing pro bono immigration work since the crackdown began in Minneapolis.

(Caroline Yang/For The Times)

He started cold-calling John Burris, another Bay Area lawyer who is an icon of civil rights and police misconduct cases. Burris, who has been called the “Godfather of Police Litigation,” was involved in the “Oakland Riders” case in 2000, when officers were discovered to have planted evidence. He also represented Rodney King, the family of Oscar Grant, and the family of Joseph Mann among many others.

But Burris, a boxing fan, didn’t respond to Cook’s calls until the young lawyer offered him free tickets to one of his fights, which he was still doing on the side.

“And then immediately I got a call back,” Cook said.

Burris said Cook’s history as a fighter intrigued him, but “I did say to James, you can’t be a fighter and lawyer. You can’t get punched in your head all the time.”

Cook did not take this advice.

Still, Burris said, “It was his persistence that I admired, because the type of work we’re involved in, you need people who are dedicated, who have some real commitment to the work, and he showed that kind of consistency and dedication.”

Cook’s been working with Burris more than 20 years now, but until recently, the labyrinth of the immigration system wasn’t his area of expertise. It’s been a crash course for him, he said, on the often arcane laws that govern who gets to stay in America and who doesn’t.

It’s also been a crash course on what a civil rights emergency looks like. Along with his work looking for locked-up immigrants, Cook spends a lot of time on the streets at protests, helping people understand their rights — and limitations — and seeing first hand what is happening.

“If you ever wondered what you would have done in Germany, now is the time,” he said. “Now is the time to do something. People are being interned.”

In the hours after Pretti was shot, Cook was at the location of the shooting, in the middle of the tear gas, offering legal help to anyone who needed it and bearing witness to conduct that will almost certainly face scrutiny one day, even if government leaders condone it now.

Law enforcement officers launch tear gas canisters as they work to push the crowd back and expand their perimeter in Minneapolis on Jan. 24.

(Caroline Yang/For The Times)

“The way the officers chase people down, protesters who were really just protesting lawfully and were beaten and pepper sprayed and gassed — all those are civil rights violations,” Burris said. “And so the law is the guardrails. So there has to be lawyers who are prepared to protect those guardrails and to stand as centurions, as I refer to us.”

Cook has tried to calm protesters, he told me, and prevent clashes. But people are mad, and resolute. His greatest fear is summer — when warm weather could bring even larger crowds if enforcement is still ongoing. He’s worried that the actions of the federal agents will spill over into anger at local cops enforcing local laws, leading to even more chaos.

“I’ve always supported cops as long as they do their job correctly,” Cook said.

For now, he’s taking it one day at a time, one case at a time, one name at a time.

Protesters raise an inverted American flag as law enforcement officers launch tear gas canisters in Minneapolis after Alex Pretti was killed by federal agents.

(Caroline Yang/For The Times)

Tuesday, Cook passed through the armed checkpoint at Whipple carrying a list of about seven people, folks who have been picked up by federal agents for one reason or another, or reasons unknown, and now cannot be located. They are not in the public online system that is meant to track detainees, and family and friends have not heard from them.

If he’s lucky, Cook will get information on one or two, that they are indeed inside, or maybe at a detention center in Texas, where many have been sent. But there will be more whose location remains unknown. He’ll make calls, fill out forms and come back tomorrow. And the tomorrow after that.

“This is what we do,” he said. “I’m always in it for the long run. I mean, you know, shoot, yeah, that’s kind of the way it works.”

Ever since Hunter Greene stepped foot on campus at Sherman Oaks Notre Dame High as a 14-year-old freshman, everyone has predicted stardom in baseball. But one day, it will be remembered how much he has done to help inspire and encourage the next generation of students to follow their dreams.

Greene, the No. 2 draft pick of the Cincinnati Reds in 2017, has become a member of the team’s starting rotation while continuing to serve as a role model for others.

On Saturday, he returned to Notre Dame to present two scholarship awards from his foundation given annually to a boy and girl who demonstrates character and commitment to their community. It’s the seventh and eighth scholarships since he began the annual presentation four years ago.

Donors list for the Hunter Greene Scholarship Fund at Sherman Oaks Notre Dame.

(Eric Sondheimer / Los Angeles Times)

Even in high school, Greene was seen as someone who could be a leader in helping others. He embraced that role and has continued as a professional baseball player, whether it’s at his former school or helping youth around the country.

Notre Dame held an alumni baseball game, where former major leaguers Brendan Ryan and Brett Hayes were among the participants.

Greene did not play, but what he continues to do off the field is admired and much appreciated.

This is a daily look at the positive happenings in high school sports. To submit any news, please email eric.sondheimer@latimes.com.

PORTLAND, Maine — U.S. Sen. Susan Collins of Maine said Thursday that immigration officials have ceased their “enhanced operations” in the state, the site of an enforcement surge and more than 200 arrests since last week.

Collins, a Republican, announced the development after saying she had spoken directly with Secretary of Homeland Security Kristi Noem.

“There are currently no ongoing or planned large-scale ICE operations here,” Collins said in a statement, referring to U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement. “I have been urging Secretary Noem and others in the Administration to get ICE to reconsider its approach to immigration enforcement in the state.”

The announcement came after President Trump seemed to signal a willingness to ease tensions in Minneapolis after a second deadly shooting there by federal immigration agents.

Collins said ICE and Border Patrol officials “will continue their normal operations that have been ongoing here for many years.”

An email seeking comment was sent Thursday to the Department of Homeland Security.

Collins’ announcement comes more than a week after immigration officers began an operation dubbed “Catch of the Day” by ICE. Federal officials said about 50 arrests were made the first day and that roughly 1,400 people were operational targets in the mostly rural state of 1.4 million residents, 4% of whom are foreign-born. ICE said more recently that more than 200 people have been arrested since the operation started.

In Lewiston, one of the cities targeted by ICE, Mayor Carl Sheline called the scale-down welcome news, describing the agency’s operations as “disastrous” for the city and others.

“ICE operations in Maine have failed to improve public safety and have caused lasting damage to our communities. We will continue working to ensure that those who were wrongfully detained by ICE are returned to us,” said Sheline, who leads a city where the charter requires the mayoral position to be nonpartisan.

Homeland Security Assistant Secretary Tricia McLaughlin last week touted that some of the arrests were of people “convicted of horrific crimes including aggravated assault, false imprisonment, and endangering the welfare of a child.” Court records painted a slightly different story: While some had been convicted of felonies, others were detainees with unresolved immigration proceedings or who were arrested but never convicted of a crime.

Collins, a veteran senator, is up for reelection this year. Unlike a handful of Republican senators facing potentially tough campaigns, Collins has not called for Noem to step down or be fired. She’s also avoided criticizing ICE tactics, beyond saying that people who are in the U.S. legally should not be the target of ICE investigations.

Democratic Gov. Janet Mills, who announced her Senate candidacy in October and could face Collins in the general election, has challenged immigration officials to provide judicial warrants, real-time arrest numbers and basic information about who is being detained in Maine. She also called on Collins to act after the House’s GOP majority defeated Democrats’ efforts to curtail ICE funding.

Mills’ office did not immediately respond to an Associated Press email seeking comment on Collins’ announcement.

Meanwhile, first-time Democratic candidate Graham Platner — who is running against Mills in the primary — has criticized both Mills’ and Collins’ handling of ICE and has demanded the agency be dismantled. Platner organized a protest Thursday outside Collins’ office in Portland, Maine, where dozens of supporters held signs and sang along with him.

Platner said he would host a separate protest later outside Collins’ Bangor, Maine, office.

Several prominent Maine Democrats expressed guarded optimism about the ICE drawdown while also criticizing the agency’s actions.

“If these enhanced operations have in fact ceased, that may reduce the visible federal presence in our state,” said U.S. Rep. Chellie Pingree, who represents the Portland area. “But I think it is important that people understand what we saw during this operation: individuals who are legally allowed to be in the United States, whether by lawful presence or an authorized period of stay, following the rules, and being detained anyway.

Whittle and Kruesi write for the Associated Press. Kruesi reported from Providence, R.I. AP writer Kathy McCormack in Concord, N.H., contributed to this report.