Tennessee

In 2000, whispers of a 13-year-old phenom from Naperville, Ill. — a Chicago suburb — began reverberating through the AAU circuit. Generational. Dominant. Striking. Perhaps the greatest women’s basketball prospect ever. Candace Parker’s name rang out far beyond her hometown.

Word soon reached every elite college basketball program in the country — from Durham, N.C., to College Park, Md., to Knoxville, Tenn. — each clamoring for her talents. Few truly stood a chance.

“Her game at such an early age was something I had never seen in person,” said Nikki Fargas, then an assistant coach at Tennessee. “To see her do it so young tells you a lot. … She was undeniable, and her presence was felt.”

Long before Parker’s illustrious professional career and her Sparks jersey retirement ceremony Sunday — three championships, two MVPs, rookie of the year, defensive player of the year, Finals MVP, two Olympic golds, seven All-Star nods and 10 All-WNBA selections — she was simply “Ace,” a sweatband-wearing, bob-cut sporting teenager set to graduate.

Fargas, who won a national title under legendary coach Pat Summitt, was Tennessee’s recruiting director in 2003 and was looking to make a splash with her first class. The moment she saw Parker in person, she was certain: Parker would be a Lady Vol.

By her senior year in high school, Parker had grown into a 6-foot-4 national player of the year and state champion.

Candace Parker was considered one of the top college recruits while at Naperville Central High in a suburb outside of Chicago.

(Anne Ryan / Associated Press)

Fargas attended all of Parker’s games at Naperville Central High, a nearly 1,100-mile round trip. She sat in the Redhawks’ gym bleachers, decked out in Tennessee orange while sending a not-so-subtle message, often with Summitt by her side.

Fargas made her final pitch clear and direct: Parker could become the greatest under Summitt.

Joining Rocky Top

On Nov. 11, 2003, at the start of her senior year, Parker committed to Tennessee live on ESPNews — the first women’s basketball player to commit on national TV. Parker later told ESPN, “I wanted to be a professional basketball player. I loved that Knoxville was centered around women’s basketball.”

“Candace is the most versatile 6-foot-3 player at this stage of her game that I’ve ever seen,” Summitt said in a Tennessee news release announcing Parker’s signing a letter of intent. “She can play every position on the floor, from point guard to post, … Truly a great inside-outside player. … The total package.”

Parker’s arrival sent a jolt through Rocky Top. At just 18, she brought weighty expectations — it was championship or bust. For several years, it had been bust for Tennessee, which hadn’t won a national title since the late ’90s.

After missing her freshman year because of a knee injury, Parker proved to be better than advertised, propelling the Lady Vols back onto the national stage.

“Even in college, not only did she dunk, but she was able to pass, able to shoot at her position, able to do things that bigs weren’t doing,” said Noelle Quinn, a former Southland prep star and head coach of the Seattle Storm. “It was easy for Candace. It was easy for that team.”

Tennessee coach Pat Summitt gives instructions to Candace Parker during the 2007 NCAA title game against Rutgers.

(Tony Dejak / Associated Press)

Quinn experienced the Summitt-Parker era firsthand. In 2006, she led UCLA into an early-season clash on the road against No. 1 Tennessee — the start of Parker’s first title run.

“It was an amazing environment to play in — a game I’ll never forget,” Quinn recalled. Parker and Quinn led their teams in scoring — Parker with 22 points, Quinn with 20. Tennessee’s dominance with Parker at the helm was clear, Quinn said.

At the height of the team’s back-to-back championship runs, Fargas said traveling with the Lady Vols “was like traveling with rock stars.” Summitt’s fearless approach — taking on anyone, anywhere — kept Tennessee in the spotlight, with Parker as the undisputed headliner.

“What we’re seeing right now with Angel Reese and Caitlin Clark — bringing awareness, getting people to watch and increasing attendance — Parker was doing that already,” Fargas said. “Fans would be lined up at our hotel. Our bus would pull up and there were the fans.”

By the end of her college career, Parker had accomplished everything — two-time AP player of the year, 2008 Naismith college player of the year, and most outstanding player during both national title runs — the last of which was Summitt’s final championship.

“She fits in at the top,” Fargas said of Parker’s place in program history. “When you talk about Lady Vols, Parker is maybe the first of the names people talk about. … She was different.”

Big L.A. dreams

Parker was arguably the WNBA’s most anticipated prospect — a franchise-altering talent. Yet one question loomed: Who would land her?

In 2006, the Sparks were in championship contention, reaching the conference finals with MVP Lisa Leslie. But when Leslie missed the following season on maternity leave, the team plummeted to 10–24 — tied for worst in the league.

With a 34.1% chance at the No. 1 pick, the pingpong balls bounced the Sparks’ way.

Candace Parker, left, and Lisa Leslie crack jokes as they check their height at a Sparks photo shoot in 2008.

(Damian Dovarganes / Associated Press)

Questions swirled about how Parker and Leslie would coexist. Leslie says she never saw a problem — only potential. She called herself “Smooth” and Parker “Silk,” and welcomed the role of hardening the rookie, likening it to “having another baby.”

For a time, Leslie lived a few floors from Parker in the team’s player housing, keeping tabs on Parker’s habits. She’d make her oatmeal and slice up fruit because Parker “wouldn’t eat well,” gently pushing through rookie stubbornness toward authority, nudging her toward the weight room and stressing the importance of body maintenance.

The wisdom of one MVP — and the freedom granted by Sparks coach Michael Cooper — helped ignite the greatest rookie season in WNBA history. Parker captured both rookie of the year and MVP honors, joining an exclusive club with NBA legends Wilt Chamberlain and Wes Unseld.

“Candace always showed greatness,” Leslie said. “Each generation, we’ve done our part. You carry that torch as far as you can, and hand it off with grace.”

The torch was Parker’s to bear into the next decade. But nine seasons in, she was still chasing her first Finals appearance, let alone a championship. Years of coaching changes, early playoff exits and unmet expectations had left the franchise — and its star — without a title.

Brian Agler’s first year as Sparks head coach started rocky with a 3–14 record, as Parker sat out the first half of the 2015 season after playing overseas. As the losses mounted, Parker prepared for a return and called Agler to arrange a closed workout.

“I think she wanted to play into me as, ‘OK, I’m gonna come back and get ready,’” Agler said. “But in reality, she was sort of measuring me up.”

Agler believed it was a test to see whether she thought he was the right fit — if he could lead the team to a championship, just as he had done with the Seattle Storm in 2010.

Sparks forward Candace Parker drives past Lynx forward Rebekkah Brunson during a game in 2012.

(Stacy Bengs / Associated Press)

By the following season, with the pieces in play, contending for a championship seemed within reach. But the 2016 season wasn’t without turmoil for Parker. She was surprisingly left off the USA Olympic team, faced marital strife and mourned the loss of Summitt, who died of complications from Alzheimer’s.

On the court, Parker remained a force, and helped foster the rise of one of the league’s best — former No. 1 overall pick and MVP Nneka Ogwumike. Like Leslie had done for her, Parker took Ogwumike under her wing.

“For the most part, I was someone who paid attention to what vets did, and I spent a lot of time watching what she did,” Ogwumike said of Parker. “She helped me understand [the game] from a different lens, from a more advanced perspective coming in from college. We were able to develop some great chemistry.”

Agler said their connection “was as special as I’ve seen,” adding that Ogwumike “probably understood Candace better than most anybody.”

In Parker’s first WNBA Finals, she led the Sparks through a dramatic series against the Lynx, capped by a 28-point and 12-rebound performance in Game 5 to secure the title and Finals MVP.

Through tears, she found the only words she could muster: “This is for Pat.”

“I’m sure it [the pressure] was there for her,” Agler said. “I just remember when we won, how happy she was. She almost collapsed on the floor with joy. … That’s really the only time I’ve seen her that way in a public setting.”

Soon after the championship run, a divide grew between Parker and the organization. In her new book, “The Can-do Mindset,” Parker reflects on strained relationships with the front office, a carousel of head coaches and a growing distrust that ultimately fractured her relationship with the Sparks.

“The culture was toxic, and whether I wanted to admit it or not, I was a part of that culture and had been absorbed in that toxicity,” Parker wrote in her book, referring to the breakup. “I had to admit to myself that I didn’t like who I’d become in my years with the Sparks. It takes two to tango. So though I didn’t create the culture, I was still at fault in my own way.”

Chasing more titles and ownership

Candace Parker, center right, celebrates with Chicago Sky teammates after winning the 2021 WNBA title.

(Paul Beaty / Associated Press)

After 13 years, Parker decided to leave the Sparks. It’s a move Leslie called “unfortunate,” adding she had “no idea how they let her get away.” But Parker announced she was ready to find “a sense of peace,” signing with the Chicago Sky — moving as close to her native Naperville as possible.

During free agency, Parker called Azurá Stevens, who had just wrapped her first season with the Sky. Curious about the team and open to a fresh start, Parker asked about Stevens’ experience. Stevens still describes the conversation as “surreal,” thrilled by the idea of sharing the court with her childhood idol.

Growing up, Stevens — now the Sparks’ starting forward — modeled her game after Parker. Standing 6-foot-6, she admired Parker’s versatility and poise, and now, the two would be teammates in the same starting lineup.

“We had an up-and-down year and went through a lot that season,” Stevens recalls of the team finishing .500. “Candace definitely led the way. … A strong veteran presence for us to keep us level-headed. And once we got to the playoffs, we flipped the switch.”

Seattle Storm guard Lexie Brown — like Stevens — followed Parker’s career. Finally playing alongside her in Chicago, what stood out wasn’t just Parker’s talent, but her relentless devotion while juggling motherhood, a broadcasting career and a championship run. “I remember watching her on TNT the night before, and she’d pull up to practice with some of her makeup still on,” Brown said. “She was really dedicated to helping us win. That was a special season for me.”

In the twilight of her career, Parker still showed flashes of the once baby-haired assassin who shook up the WNBA.

“It was a homecoming for the whole year,” Stevens said of Parker’s move to Chicago. “Being able to go back home and then bring a franchise its first championship is really special. The city really showed out for her.”

After two seasons in Chicago, Parker decided to reunite with Fargas — the coach who recruited Parker to Tennessee and eventually became president of the Las Vegas Aces.

With a championship pedigree and legacy to match, Parker’s new role was no longer the star but the connector. Her signing was meant to elevate A’ja Wilson, Kelsey Plum and Jackie Young — all former No. 1 picks — to their fullest potential.

“She brought a calmness to our team,” Fargas said. “We already had a high-powered offense. … But having her on our team definitely helped raise and bring a championship culture.”

Candace Parker won her third WNBA championship with the Las Vegas Aces in 2023.

(Lindsey Wasson / Associated Press)

The outcome? A third championship with a third different team — another WNBA first.

But the victory came with a bittersweet edge. An ankle injury sidelined Parker for much of the season. “She did everything in her power to get back to us. … I know that was very difficult for her,” Fargas said.

With wear and tear piling up, Parker announced her retirement — opening with a borrowed line from a Jay-Z verse on the track “Dear Summer”:

“Dear Summer, I know you gon’ miss me …”

“I love his lyrics, but I love how he’s redefined what rappers are capable of,” Parker said of Jay-Z during an interview with ESPNW in 2023. “That’s what I hope to do for women’s basketball players. … I want to be that business leader, that business mind.”

Soon after retiring, Parker joined an investment group aiming to bring a WNBA franchise to Tennessee. Billionaire and former Gov. Bill Haslam — now chairman of the NHL’s Nashville Predators — and his wife, Crissy, led the Nashville-based bid. They’ve assembled a star-studded roster that includes Parker, Pro Football Hall of Famer Peyton Manning and country music icons Tim McGraw and Faith Hill.

“When I called her the first time, I said, ‘Candace, we’d love you to be involved, and we don’t just want your name,’” Haslam recalled. “She was really quick to say, ‘Well, that’s great, because that’s the only way I would be involved.’”

With the WNBA set to expand to 16 teams by 2028, the group submitted its formal bid in January. The group proposes calling the team Tennessee Summitt.

“To see Candace join an ownership group — why not?” Fargas said. “Why aren’t there more opportunities for the players who helped shape this league? Why aren’t there those opportunities to allow them to not only play the game, but also invest in it?”

NASHVILLE — A federal judge in Tennessee on Sunday denied the U.S. government’s motion to keep Kilmar Abrego Garcia in detention before his trial on human smuggling charges and ordered his release.

But Abrego Garcia, whose mistaken deportation to El Salvador has become a high-profile case in President Trump’s immigration crackdown, is not expected to go free because U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement will probably take him into custody and possibly try to deport him.

In denying the Trump administration’s motion Sunday, U.S. Magistrate Judge Barbara Holmes scheduled a hearing for Wednesday to discuss the conditions of his release.

The U.S. government has already filed a motion to appeal the judge’s decision and is asking her to stay her impending release order.

Abrego Garcia pleaded not guilty on June 13 to smuggling charges that his attorneys have characterized as an attempt to justify his mistaken deportation in March to a notorious prison in El Salvador. That hearing was the first chance the Maryland construction worker had in a U.S. courtroom to answer the Trump administration’s allegations.

The smuggling charges stem from a 2022 traffic stop for speeding in Tennessee during which Abrego Garcia was driving a vehicle with nine passengers. Although officers suspected possible smuggling, he was allowed to go with only a warning.

A federal indictment accuses Abrego Garcia of smuggling throughout the U.S. hundreds of people living in the country illegally, including children and members of the violent MS-13 gang. He has denied the charges.

The investigation was launched weeks after the Supreme Court ordered the administration to facilitate his return from El Salvador amid mounting public pressure.

Holmes acknowledged in her ruling Sunday that determining whether Abrego Garcia should be released is “little more than an academic exercise” because ICE will probably detain him. But the judge wrote that the government failed to prove that Abrego Garcia was a flight risk, that he posed a danger to the community or that he would interfere with proceedings if released.

“Overall, the Court cannot find from the evidence presented that Abrego’s release clearly and convincingly poses an irremediable danger to other persons or to the community,” the judge wrote.

The acting U.S. attorney for the Middle District of Tennessee, Rob McGuire, argued on June 13 that the likely attempt by ICE to deport him was one reason to keep him in jail.

The judge suggested then that the Department of Justice and the Department of Homeland Security could work out between themselves whether the government’s priority is to try him on the criminal charges or deport him. No date has been set for the trial.

A 2019 immigration judge’s order prevents Abrego Garcia from being deported to his native El Salvador because he faces a credible threat from gangs there, according to Will Allensworth, an assistant federal public defender representing him.

The government could deport him to a third country, but immigration officials would first be required to show that that country was willing to keep him and not deport him back to El Salvador, Allensworth said.

At the detention hearing, McGuire said cooperating witnesses have accused Abrego Garcia of trafficking drugs and firearms and of abusing the women he transported, among other claims. Abrego Garcia also denies those accusations, and although he is not charged with such crimes, McGuire said they showed him to be a dangerous person who should remain in jail pretrial.

Most people in ICE custody who are facing criminal charges are not kept in the U.S. for trial but deported, according to Ohio State University law professor César Cuauhtémoc García Hernández. The government would not need a conviction to deport Abrego Garcia because he came to the U.S. illegally.

However an immigration judge rules, the decision can be appealed to the Board of Immigration Appeals, García Hernández said. And the board’s ruling can then be contested in a federal appeals court.

Loller and Finley write for the Associated Press and reported from Nashville and Norfolk, Va., respectively.

NASHVILLE, Tenn. — A U.S. Supreme Court decision upholding Tennessee’s ban on gender-affirming care for minors is leaving transgender children and their parents uncertain and anxious about the future.

The court on Wednesday handed President Trump’s administration and Republican-led states a significant victory by effectively protecting them from at least some of the legal challenges against many efforts to repeal safeguards for transgender people.

The case stems from a Tennessee law banning puberty blockers and hormone treatments for transgender minors. Opponents of gender-affirming care say people who transition when they’re young could later regret it.

Families of transgender children argue the ban amounts to unlawful sex discrimination and violates the constitutional rights of vulnerable Americans.

Student says ruling creates an unwelcome world

Eli Givens, who is transgender and testified against Tennessee’s gender-affirming care bill in 2023, said it’s devastating that lawmakers “who have called us degenerates, have told us that we’re living in fiction” are celebrating the court’s ruling.

The nonbinary college student from Spring Hill received mastectomy surgery in 2022 at age 17. They said the legislation inspired their advocacy, and they attended the Supreme Court arguments in the case last December, on their 20th birthday.

“We’re not making a world that trans youth are welcomed or allowed to be a part of,” Givens said. “And so, it’s just a really scary kind of future we might have.”

Jennifer Solomon, who supports parents and families at the LGBTQ+ rights group Equality Florida, called the ruling a decision “that one day will embarrass the courts.”

“This is a decision that every parent should be concerned about,” she said. “When politicians are able to make a decision that overrides your ability to medically make decisions for your children, every family should worry.”

Conservative activists take credit

Chloe Cole, a conservative activist known for speaking about her gender-transition reversal, posted on social media after the court’s decision that “every child in America is now safer.”

Cole was cited as an example by Tennessee Republicans as one of the reasons the law was needed.

Matt Walsh, an activist who was one of the early backers of Tennessee’s law, applauded the high court. Three years ago, Walsh shared videos on social media of a doctor saying gender-affirming procedures are “huge moneymakers” for hospitals and a staffer saying anyone with a religious objection should quit.

“This is a truly historic victory and I’m grateful to be a part of it, along with so many others who have fought relentlessly for years,” Walsh posted on social media.

Fears of what’s next after Supreme Court decision

Rosie Emrich is worried the court decision will embolden legislators in New Hampshire, where legislation banning hormone treatments and puberty blockers for children is expected to reach the governor’s desk.

Lawmakers are weighing whether to block the treatments from minors already receiving them, like Emrich’s 9-year-old child.

“It’s definitely disappointing, and I’m trying to figure out how I’m going to talk to my kid about it,” Emrich said.

Emrich said she and her husband have considered moving from New Hampshire and are waiting to see what will happen.

“The hard part is, like, I’ve grown up here, my husband has grown up here, we very much want to raise our family here,” she said. “And we don’t want to leave if we don t have to.”

A move across the country and other hurdles

Erica Barker and her family moved from Jackson, Mississippi, to North Las Vegas, Nevada, a little over two years ago so one of her children could start receiving gender-affirming care.

Barker’s transgender daughter, then 12, had been in therapy for three years, and the family agreed it was time for medical treatments.

Mississippi passed a ban on gender-affirming care for minors the next year, which Barker said she saw coming.

Barker said the move was complicated, involving a new job for her husband and two mortgages when their Mississippi home was slow to sell, but it also brought access to care for her daughter, now 14.

“Our hearts are hurting for folks who are not having the same experience,” Barker said.

In another state with a ban on gender-affirming care for minors, Oklahoma resident Erika Dubose said finding care for her 17-year-old nonbinary child, Sydney Gebhardt, involves a four-hour drive to Kansas and getting prescriptions filled in Oregon and mailed to their home.

“I just wish the younger folks wouldn’t have to go through this,” Gebhardt said. “These folks deserve to be focusing on their academics and hanging out with their friends and making memories with their families and planning out a safe and happy future.”

Mother says gender-affirming care saves lives

Sarah Moskanos, who lives near Milwaukee, said her 14-year-old transgender daughter went through nearly a decade of counseling before she started medical gender-affirming care but has been sure since the age of 4 that she identified as a girl.

“I would say that there is decades of research on this very thing,” she said. “And we know what works and we know what will save trans kids’ lives is gender-affirming care.”

Wisconsin doesn’t have a gender-affirming care ban, but Moskanos said getting her daughter that care has not been easy. She now worries about what the future holds.

“We are but one election cycle away from disaster for my kid,” she said.

Vowing not to disappear

Mo Jenkins, a 26-year-old transgender Texas native and legislative staffer at the state Capitol, said she began taking hormone therapy at 16 years old and has been on and off treatment since then.

“My transition was out of survival,” Jenkins said.

Texas outlawed gender-affirming care for minors two years ago, and in May, the Legislature passed a bill tightly defining a man and a woman by their sex characteristics.

“I’m not surprised at the ruling. I am disheartened,” Jenkins said. “Trans people are not going to disappear.”

Mattise, Mulvihill and Seewer write for the Associated Press. Mulvihill reported from Cherry Hill, N.J., and Seewer reported from Toledo, Ohio. AP journalists Susan Haigh in Hartford, Conn.; Kenya Hunter in Atlanta; Laura Bargfeld in Chicago; Nadia Lathan in Austin, Texas; and Daniel Kozin in Pinecrest, Fla., contributed to this report.

NASHVILLE, Tenn. — Kilmar Abrego Garcia, whose mistaken deportation has become a flashpoint in President Trump’s immigration crackdown, pleaded not guilty on Friday to human smuggling charges in a federal court in Tennessee.

The plea was the first chance the Maryland construction worker has had in a U.S. courtroom to answer the Trump administration’s allegations against him since he was mistakenly deported in March to a notorious prison in El Salvador.

The Republican administration returned Abrego Garcia to the U.S. last week to face criminal charges related to what it said was a human smuggling operation that transported immigrants across the country. The charges stem from a 2022 traffic stop in Tennessee during which Abrego Garcia was driving a vehicle with nine passengers. His lawyers have called the allegations “preposterous.”

Friday’s hearing will also focus on whether Abrego Garcia should be released from jail while awaiting trial on the smuggling charges. A federal judge will hear arguments from Abrego Garcia’s lawyers and attorneys for the U.S. government.

Before the hearing began in Nashville, Abrego Garcia’s wife told a crowd outside a church that Thursday marked three months since the Trump administration “abducted and disappeared my husband and separated him from our family.”

Her voice choked with emotion, Jennifer Vasquez Sura said she saw her husband for the first time on Thursday. She said, “Kilmar wants you to have faith,” and asked the people supporting him and his family “‘to continue fighting, and I will be victorious because God is with us.’”

Abrego Garcia is a citizen of El Salvador who had been living in the United States for more than a decade before he was wrongfully deported by the Trump administration. The expulsion violated a 2019 U.S. immigration judge’s order that shielded him from deportation to his native country because he likely faced gang persecution there.

While the Trump administration described the mistaken removal as “an administrative error,” officials have continued to justify it by insisting Abrego Garcia was a member of the MS-13 gang. His wife and attorneys have denied the allegations, saying he’s simply a construction worker and family man.

U.S. attorneys have asked U.S. Magistrate Judge Barbara Holmes to keep Abrego Garcia in jail, describing him as a danger to the community and a flight risk. Abrego Garcia’s attorneys disagree, pointing out he was already wrongly detained in a notorious Salvadoran prison thanks to government error and arguing due process and “basic fairness” require him to be set free.

The charges against Abrego Garcia are human smuggling. But in their request to keep Abrego Garcia in jail, U.S. attorneys also accuse him of trafficking drugs and firearms and of abusing the women he transported, among other claims, although he is not charged with such crimes.

The U.S. attorneys also accuse Abrego Garcia of taking part in a murder in El Salvador. However, none of those allegations is part of the charges against him, and at his initial appearance June 6, the judge warned prosecutors she cannot detain someone based solely on allegations.

One of Abrego Garcia’s attorneys last week characterized the claims as a desperate attempt by the Trump administration to justify the mistaken deportation three months after the fact.

“There’s no way a jury is going to see the evidence and agree that this sheet metal worker is the leader of an international MS-13 smuggling conspiracy,” private attorney Simon Sandoval-Moshenberg said.

In a Wednesday court filing, Abrego Garcia’s public defenders argued the government is not even entitled to a detention hearing — much less detention — because the charges against him aren’t serious enough.

Although the maximum sentence for smuggling one person is 10 years, and Abrego Garcia is accused of transporting hundreds of people over nearly a decade, his defense attorneys point out there’s no minimum sentence. The average sentence for human smuggling in 2024 was just 15 months, according to court filings.

The decision to charge Abrego Garcia criminally prompted the resignation of Ben Schrader, who was chief of the criminal division at the U.S. Attorney’s Office for the Middle District of Tennessee. He posted about his departure on social media on the day of the indictment, writing, “It has been an incredible privilege to serve as a prosecutor with the Department of Justice, where the only job description I’ve ever known is to do the right thing, in the right way, for the right reasons.”

He did not directly address the indictment and declined to comment when reached by The Associated Press. However, a person familiar with the matter who spoke on the condition of anonymity to discuss a personnel matter confirmed the connection.

Although Abrego Garcia lives in Maryland, he’s being charged in Tennessee based on a May 2022 traffic stop for speeding in the state. The Tennessee Highway Patrol body camera video of the encounter that was released to the public last month shows a calm exchange between officers and Abrego Garcia. It also shows the officers discussing among themselves their suspicions of human smuggling before sending him on his way. One of the officers says, “He’s hauling these people for money.” Another says Abrego Garcia had $1,400 in an envelope.

Abrego Garcia was not charged with any offense at the traffic stop. Sandoval-Moshenberg, the private attorney, said in a statement after the video’s release that he saw no evidence of a crime in the footage.

Meanwhile, the lawsuit over Abrego Garcia’s mistaken deportation isn’t over. Abrego Garcia’s attorneys have asked a federal judge in Maryland to impose fines against the Trump administration for contempt, arguing that it flagrantly ignored court orders forseveral weeks to return him. The Trump administration said it will ask the judge to dismiss the lawsuit, arguing that it followed the judge’s order to return him to the U.S.

Loller, Mattise and Finley write for the Associated Press. Finley reported from Norfolk, Va.