san francisco

SAN FRANCISCO — There are no immigrants waiting for rulings anymore at San Francisco’s main immigration court, no lawyers making arguments.

The court, which had 21 judges when President Trump was sworn in last year, had only two left when it closed May 1. The rest had been fired, retired or resigned amid a White House purge of federal immigration judges.

The closing is one more reflection of the turmoil that has upended the immigration court system as the administration looks for ways to churn through its massive backlog of 3.8 million asylum cases and deport as many people as possible.

Asylum denial rates have soared as the administration has fired almost 100 judges deemed to be too liberal, and approved using hundreds of military lawyers to replace them. Immigrants have been arrested when they arrive at courthouses or government offices for scheduled appearances.

But amid the nationwide upheaval, San Francisco is the first major city to be left without a primary immigration court, leaving chaos and dysfunction in a region long known for its friendliness to asylum seekers. The two remaining judges will work from another federal building in the city but will be part of an immigration court across the bay.

That reputation, court insiders say, might have led to its downfall.

“It was a vibrant legal scene and so I think if you were looking to target a court you would have to look at what San Francisco stands for,” said Jeremiah Johnson, an immigration judge in the city until he was fired in November. He is now executive vice president of the National Assn. of Immigration Judges.

Most of the court’s 117,000 immigration cases have been moved to a courthouse in Concord, a city about 30 miles away that opened two years ago to help with San Francisco’s backlog of cases. But turmoil has also reached that city. A courthouse that had 11 judges at the start of 2025 is down to five after a series of firings. It had a caseload of 60,000 cases even before the San Francisco cases were shifted over.

San Francisco’s immigration court, which had the third-highest number of asylum cases in the nation, was long considered one of the most favorable to people seeking asylum. From 2019 to 2024, almost 75% of petitioners received some form of relief, compared with 43% nationwide, according to data compiled by the Transactional Records Access Clearinghouse, a nonprofit data research center based at Syracuse University.

That’s partly because San Francisco, with its vast network of pro-immigrant organizations and pro bono or low-cost legal services, had one of the country’s highest rates of legal representation for immigrants.

The Executive Office of Immigration Review, the Department of Justice branch that oversees immigration courts, announced in March that it would close the San Francisco courthouse in 2027 as a cost-saving measure and move its cases to Concord. But the end came early after nearly all the San Francisco judges left or were fired. The Executive Office provided no detailed explanation for the changes, saying in a statement only that it had decided not to renew its lease for the court, and doesn’t comment on personnel matters.

Tight security in Concord courts

Security is tight at the Concord courthouse, perhaps because of the new influx of cases. Armed security guards ask every person if they are carrying weapons or explosives, and they watch as each person turns off their cellphone. Even coffee is not allowed in. Only water is acceptable, and then only if it’s in a transparent bottle.

Judah Lakin, an immigration attorney based in Oakland who also teaches at UC Berkeley School of Law, said the closure of the San Francisco court has made cases more time-consuming since it’s harder for his clients, who often travel from hours away, to reach Concord on public transportation.

One recent 10-minute hearing in Concord took him more than two hours of travel, he said.

But beyond logistics, Lakin said the chaos in immigration courts under the Trump administration has created a fraught court atmosphere. Mass firings have led to last-minute hearing cancellations, cases have been reset with little notice, and clients are often left in prolonged legal limbo, leaving them vulnerable to deportation.

One of his clients, he said, was provisionally granted asylum by a judge, who was then fired before signing the decision. The case was transferred to a second judge, who was also fired. Now on their third judge, his client is still waiting.

“The ground is constantly shifting underneath your feet, whether it’s judges being fired and hearings getting canceled, whether it’s your clients getting arrested, whether it’s getting denials on things that used to be standard and routine,” Lakin said.

“I think that’s on purpose. That’s by design. It’s part of the strategy,” he added.

‘Heartbreaking’

San Francisco’s immigration court was one of the first in the nation to hire judges with non-prosecutorial backgrounds, with many having previous experience working with immigrants at nonprofits or defending them in court.

To see the court close is “heartbreaking,” said Dana Leigh Marks, a former San Francisco immigration judge who retired in 2021 after 35 years on the bench and who was among the first judges in the nation to be hired from private practice.

She sees the Trump administration’s decision to close the largest immigration court in Northern California as part of an effort to undermine due process and eventually dismantle the path to asylum.

“It’s all a part of big ways and little ways that the Trump administration is trying to get noncitizens out of the country,” she said.

Johnson, the fired San Francisco judge, was appointed during the first Trump administration. He believes he was targeted because he granted asylum in 89% of the cases he heard.

“You don’t fire judges if you disagree with the way they’re handling a case; that’s not how courts work. If you disagree, you appeal that decision,” he said.

Johnson, who is the executive vice president of the National Assn. of Immigration Judges, defended his judicial record, pointing out that over eight years, only about 10 of his cases were appealed by the Department of Homeland Security, and very few were sent back for further hearings by the Board of Immigration Appeals.

Unlike federal courts, where there are strict rules of procedure and judges have lifetime tenure, the Justice Department runs immigration courts, and the attorney general can fire the judges with fewer constraints.

There were 754 immigration judges across the country at the start of Trump’s second term. Now, there are about 600, including some temporary judges, according to data collected by the judges’ union. Widespread courthouse arrests of immigrants have caused hundreds of people not to even show up for hearings, leading to deportation orders in absentia.

Nidaa Pervaiz came to the Concord court on a recent day to represent a client from Nepal. She prefers the new courthouse in some ways, since it’s closer to her home.

But, she said, she and her clients are already feeling the impact of the changes. Fewer judges leads to fewer hearings. That means more delays for her clients, whose paperwork can expire even before they can appear before a judge.

“Their whole lives are at stake, and they are coming to make a plea for their future” she said.

Rodriguez writes for the Associated Press.

Michael Tilson Thomas came onto the scene as a great hope for classical music, American music, Los Angeles music, modern music, multifaceted pop music, maverick music, Russian music, Broadway music and just plain music, whatever it might be and from wherever it might be found. He lived his 81 years as conductor, pianist, composer, educator and media personality promoting that hope, and died Wednesday having shown how hope is done. He looked ahead. He looked back. Yet he lived for the now.

It wasn’t always easy. He wasn’t, to say the least, always easy. But MTT made music matter by making hope matter. He was, moreover, one of us. He achieved greatness though an epic amplification of a uniquely L.A. positivity in which grumpy became wistful.

I first encountered MTT as a kid clarinetist and he, Michael Thomas back then, a student conductor at USC and already, at 19, music director of the Young Musicians Foundation Debut Orchestra. He was soon everywhere. A piano prodigy, he regularly performed (and hobnobbed) with the likes of Stravinsky, Copland, Boulez and Cage at Monday Evening Concerts programs when the Los Angeles County Museum of Art opened in 1965. That summer, he appeared at the Ojai Music Festival, which he would go on to lead as music director seven times.

MTT liked to describe his L.A. youth as driving from Jascha Heifetz’s house in the Hollywood Hills (where he accompanied the famed Russian violinist in classes) to LACMA to rehearse Ives and Renaissance music, to composition and conducting classes at USC. Then it was home to the San Fernando Valley to practice Beethoven.

All the while, he listened to the hip L.A. 1960s pop music stations on his car radio. He was particularly keen on, and became friends with, Chuck Berry. Home was where he would also encounter screen legends. Tilson Thomas’ father worked in films and television as a screenwriter, producer and dialogue coach. Theodor Thomas was, as well, a painter with a visionary sensibility and a pianist, self-taught other than a handful of lessons from Gershwin.

But it was Tilson Thomas’ mother and grandmother who may have had the biggest influence. His mother was a public school teacher. She instilled what became a key trait in her only child, who treated conducting as an exercise in learning both for the musicians and the audience (if not for him, because he basically knew it all). His grandmother, Bessie Thomashefsky and her husband, Boris, were stars of Yiddish theater on New York’s Lower East Side.

Boris died in 1939, five years before MTT was born. But Bessie and young Michael were close. She recognized that, like her, he was born for the stage, and regaled him with stage lore that put the stardust in his eyes. As a young kid, MTT played Beethoven piano sonatas so impressively that he wowed his babysitter, an architecture student at USC named Frank Owen Goldberg, who needed extra cash.

Frank Gehry, as he became, told me that MTT was already an entrancing showman. The two remained lifelong friends.

While MTT did not actually reside in L.A. for most of his life, he never really left it. It prepared him for all that was to follow. In high school, he met Joshua Robison, who became his lifelong partner and ultimately husband. Whether in New York, Miami, London or San Francisco, wherever they lived, they always talked about L.A. His father’s paintings were on the walls, as were Boris’ Yiddish theater posters, one proclaiming “King Lear,” translated and improved.

The Tilson Thomas package that emerged from L.A. was unlike any conductor the world had seen. He doted on the music of Rachmaninoff when Rachmaninoff was unfashionable and on Steve Reich when Reich was found unfathomable. He adopted classical music’s neglected outsiders and especially such key West Coast “mavericks” as Lou Harrison and Henry Cowell. He convinced Meredith Monk to write for orchestra and enticed everyone from Sarah Vaughan to the Mahavishnu Orchestra onto the symphony stage.

Studying at Tanglewood, the Boston Symphony’s summer home, MTT won the Koussevitzky Prize in 1969 and, with the encouragement of Leonard Bernstein, was appointed assistant conductor to music director William Steinberg. Before long, MTT became principal guest conductor, filling in frequently for Steinberg, who was in poor health.

MTT in his early 20s was vibrant, arrogant, fearless, full of ideas, a chance taker. Ever the Angeleno, he tooled around town in a Porsche. He talked to staid symphony musicians and audiences who didn’t want to be talked to and often played music they didn’t want to play or hear. And he dazzled them. He got a contract with the distinguished German record label Deutsche Grammophon and made exciting records with the orchestra of Tchaikovsky, Stravinsky, Ives and modern Americans. They remain a thrill to hear.

By 1974, it was Tchaikovsky one moment and a wonderfully crazy avant-garde opera the next. Stanley Silverman’s “Elephant Steps,” which MTT recorded in 1974, was for pop singers, opera singers, orchestra, rock band, electronic tape, raga group, gypsy ensemble and, of course, elephants. Richard Foreman wrote the libretto. There had been nothing like it then or since. A revival could prove a sensation. The Olympic arts festival, anyone?

At the same time, Tilson Thomas, who proved a born educator, succeeded Bernstein in delivering the New York Philharmonic’s Young People’s Concerts. When Steinberg left, the Boston Symphony Orchestra passed over MTT as too young (24) and not ready (he wasn’t, nor was Boston). He was just right, though, for the Buffalo Philharmonic, which he led from 1971 to 1979. It was a wild ride, with lots of exciting new music and no small amount of controversy — arresting performances of arresting new works (Morton Feldman in particular) and an actual arrest at Kennedy International Airport when small quantities of cocaine, marijuana and amphetamines were found in his luggage.

He may have seemed ready for a homecoming in 1981, but MTT’s appointment as principal guest conductor of the Los Angeles Philharmonic did not prove to be the return of the prodigal son. These were the years of Carlo Maria Giulini’s music directorship, and MTT brought currency — new music, Gershwin, flashy showstoppers. Much of it was a breath of freshest air, but he was also remembered for his brash youth, which was now a brash 30s. He ran afoul of some in the orchestra and of its imperious head, Ernest Fleischmann.

Having been branded the next Bernstein, MTT floundered. What he needed was not L.A., but a far distant remove to find himself. That happened in two parts.

In 1987, the educator in him led to his greatest project, the creation of the New World Symphony in Miami Beach, Florida. The training orchestra guides young musicians with conservatory backgrounds into the world of professional orchestras.

Around the same time, Bernstein talked the London Symphony Orchestra into hiring Tilson Thomas as music director. Far from L.A., Boston and New York, a newly mature MTT found his bearings, no longer the next Leonard Bernstein but the first and only Michael Tilson Thomas.

Miami gave MTT meaning, and he commissioned Frank Gehry to design a revolutionary concert hall and teaching facility. In London, his conducting took on depth without losing its surface glamour. What MTT still lacked, however, was a creative outlook. He had always thought himself a composer and could, at a party, make up a clever song at the piano on the spot. He had drawers full of sketches but little finished work.

It took a return to the West Coast for MTT, having turned 50, to put all of his musical, emotional, personal and spiritual parts together and achieve greatness. For 25 years as music director of the San Francisco Symphony, MTT conducted Mahler and Tchaikovsky with a depth of soul that integrated his Russian roots and Bernsteinian character. He advocated for mavericks in summer festivals. He found his voice as a composer. He and Robison were embraced as a beloved San Francisco couple. He alchemized the San Francisco Symphony into a Bay Area beacon.

In the challenging last chapter of his life, MTT turned tragedy into triumph to became a universal inspiration. The lockdown in June 2020 meant cancellation of his farewell concerts as music director, including a production of Wagner’s “The Flying Dutchman” with a set by Gehry. The following summer, MTT fell on stage while conducting the London Symphony in Santa Barbara. He was diagnosed with late-stage glioblastoma. He likely had less than a year to live.

Remarkably, MTT continued to conduct until last April. His appearances with the L.A. Phil and the San Francisco Symphony were transformative. He guest conducted in New York, London, Prague and elsewhere. In L.A., a dying MTT led a profound performance of Mahler’s death-obsessed Ninth Symphony, not as a farewell but as a shamanistic savoring of every moment of life. He asked not for sympathy but for joy.

For MTT, the music never stopped. In his later years, he advanced the theory that what you took away from hearing a performance mattered as much, if not more, than what you experienced. That may explain why this creature of the theater who was so graceful leading an orchestra and so enjoyed talking to the audience turned stiff and awkward when bowing to acknowledged applause. Was it his reluctance to leave? Insecurity? Attempt to remove his ego from the experience, as if he was now handing the music over to you?

It was probably all of those things. During his illness, when his movement became more difficult, he let go. He was simply happy to be there, happy to share music, happy to be alive, very happy to be loved. His final bows were a celebration of life.

Sadly, Robison died Feb. 22, exactly two months before MTT, who died four days short of a year since his final concert with the San Francisco Symphony. But he lives on through about 150 recordings and his website.

He and Robison worked as tirelessly throughout his illness to archive his life. His website provides a treasure trove of compelling radio and television programs, his copious Thomashefsky Yiddish theater archive, a vast legacy of searching and believing. And hope.

SAN FRANCISCO — With the California governor’s race quickly approaching, six candidates will face off Wednesday evening in the first debate since former Rep. Eric Swalwell dropped out of the race in the aftermath of sexual assault and misconduct allegations.

The debate takes place at a critical moment in the turbulent contest to replace termed-out Gov. Gavin Newsom. Ballots will start landing in Californians’ mailboxes in less than two weeks, and voters are split by a crowded field of eight prominent candidates. The debate also takes place after former state Controller Betty Yee ended her campaign because of a lack of resources and support in the polls.

Two Republicans — Riverside County Sheriff Chad Bianco and conservative commentator Steve Hilton — and four Democrats — billionaire Tom Steyer, former Biden administration Secretary Xavier Becerra, former Orange County Rep. Katie Porter and San Jose Mayor Matt Mahan — will take the stage at Nexstar’s KRON4 studios in San Francisco. Former Los Angeles Mayor Antonio Villaraigosa and state Supt. of Public Instruction Tony Thurmond, both Democrats, were not invited to participate because of their low polling numbers.

As the candidates strive to distinguish themselves in a crowded field, the debate could include fiery exchanges about the role of money in politics and potential heightened attacks on Becerra, who has surged in the polls since Swalwell dropped out. With the debate taking place on Earth Day, environmental issues are also likely to be raised.

The Wednesday night gathering is the first televised debate in the gubernatorial contest since early February. Last month, USC canceled a debate hours before it was set to begin over mounting criticism that its criteria excluded all major candidates of color.

The 7 p.m. debate is hosted by Nexstar and will be moderated by KTXL FOX40 anchor Nikki Laurenzo and KTLA anchor Frank Buckley. It can be viewed on KRON4 (San Francisco), KTLA5 (Los Angeles), KSWB/KUSI (San Diego), KTXL (Sacramento), KGET (Bakersfield) and KSEE (Fresno). NewsNation will also air the debate.