The Lakers got their backup big man when Kevon Looney signed a one-year, $3.9-million deal on Tuesday, people not authorized to speak publicly told The Times.
The 6-foot-9 Looney won three championships with the Golden State Warriors, in 2017, 2018 and 2021. He played last season with the New Orleans Pelicans. Looney, 30, is an 11-year veteran who went to UCLA. He’s a strong rebounder, very good defender and sets solid screens for teammates.
Looney will be the backup behind starter Walker Kessler, who was acquired in a trade from the Utah Jazz and agreed to a four-year, $130-million deal. The Lakers traded last season’s starting center, Deandre Ayton, and backup Jaxson Hayes signed with the Jazz.
The Lakers now have a 14-man roster and have room for another player.
Jonathan Kuminga is a player the Lakers are after, according to people with knowledge of the situation who said L.A. is looking at a two-year, $20-million deal for Kuminga, the sort of athletic wing player the Lakers need to start at small forward.
He has the size (6-7) and is young (23). He averaged 12.2 points and 5.6 rebounds and shot 33.3% from three-point range last season while playing for the Warriors and Atlanta Hawks.
U.S. Navy sailor Chase Humes is moving back to his dad’s house in Texas.
Last month, the 25-year-old was notified that his “voluntary separation” from the Navy, which he’d applied for in May 2025, had been approved — he would be released from service. He and his wife must be out of their military housing in San Diego by mid-July. Humes, a transgender man who’s been taking testosterone for seven years, was among at least 1,000 service members who chose to leave on their own terms rather than face involuntary separation following the military’s February 2025 ban on transgender service members. By choosing a voluntary separation, he’s been approved for an “honorable discharge,” which preserves access to benefits like Veterans Affairs healthcare that others worry they might not have access to. Humes is one of about 4,200 transgender service members the Department of Defense estimates have been diagnosed with gender dysphoria and could be subject to the policy. Advocates say the transgender service member population could exceed 15,000, according to a UCLA study from 2014. A new California bill, Assembly Bill 1775, is intended to assist people who don’t have the certainty of Humes’s honorable discharge and worry about their future prospects if they were forced out of the military. Proponents say the bill, by San Diego Democratic Assemblymember Chris Ward, could help people who are given less than honorable discharge for hiding their transgender identity by helping them restore access to services.
In the meantime, service members like Humes are scouting their next move. The sailor and his wife have been searching for jobs near his dad’s house outside Houston. They can’t afford to start their life in San Diego, despite having fallen in love with the city’s accepting atmosphere. “The whole reason I joined was for a better future for myself and my family, and it just got torn away,” Humes said of the separation.
It rescinded President Biden’s policy permitting transgender people to openly serve in the forces, and asserted that gender dysphoria and using pronouns different than one’s biological sex at birth were inconsistent with the country’s “high standards for troop readiness, lethality, cohesion, honesty, humility, uniformity, and integrity.”
What followed the Jan. 27, 2025 order was a series of legal challenges, some of which are still ongoing. Last month, a federal appeals court ruled that Trump’s ban on transgender people in the military was likely unconstitutional, allowing a group of 28 plaintiffs from across the country to continue serving while their case proceeds. Transgender troops were faced last spring with the choice of either voluntarily leaving the military, and in some cases receiving separation pay, or saying nothing and hoping they were not found out and “involuntarily separated” from the forces.
Humes is choosing to voluntarily leave the Navy after the Trump administration announced a policy banning transgender troops.
(Adriana Heldiz / CalMatters)
Kat Koehlmoos, who was in active duty for eight years and is now in an inactive Army Reserve status, said the military chain of command does not know she is transgender. “Anyone could use my testimony today to report me to the Army Reserves here, and they would be required to take action to involuntarily discharge me from the U.S. military,” she told lawmakers during a hearing on the legislation last month. Koehlmoos is a board member for SPARTA Pride, which advocates for transgender service members and co-sponsored the legislation. She said the bill came about in part because supporters are concerned the federal government might replicate the actions it took during its “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy, which allowed gay, lesbian and bisexual troops to serve if they concealed their sexual orientation. Some 2,000 troops were given less than honorable discharges in connection to the policy, and were shut out of some veterans’ benefits, according to a class-action lawsuit that was settled in 2025.
Koehlmoos said the group anticipates some people who are “involuntarily separated” under the 2025 transgender ban will be punished by the Department of Defense for not complying with the law.
“They may pursue other charges: accusing them of falsifying records or lying on federal documents, and attempt to get them a less than honorable discharge because of that,” she said, although SPARTA Pride does not know of any such cases so far. If that happened in California, Ward’s bill would help those people qualify for expedited professional licensing in civilian careers like contracting and nursing and prioritize them for discharge upgrades as well as housing and support services.
Ward said he believes the benefits of all service members should be secured, whether they leave voluntarily or involuntarily.
“They have served honorably, and this was a separation that was involuntary, and they would deserve the full benefits that they otherwise would have been due had they been cisgender,” he said.
Unknown number affected
It’s unclear how many people could be affected by the legislation. Ward has repeatedly told fellow lawmakers that 2,900 of the federal government’s estimated 4,200 transgender troops — 69% — are either from California or are currently stationed in California. In an emailed statement in response to a question from CalMatters, Ward said the figures were mistakenly adopted after conversations with veterans’ advocates, and he would no longer use them to describe the number of affected California service members. The bill would also require the state’s Department of Veterans Affairs to create a new housing and supportive services grant for veterans, which Ward said would fill a gap in existing housing support for veterans experiencing imminent homelessness. But the budget Gov. Gavin Newsom signed Monday does not include funding for that program. Instead, it directs $2 million toward the state’s existing Veteran’s Military Discharge Upgrade Grant Program, which provides legal assistance for veterans fighting for a discharge upgrade. As Humes prepares to leave San Diego, Ward’s bill is still pending in Sacramento. The legislation has cleared policy committees in both houses and awaits a hearing in the Senate appropriations committee. Koehlmoos said the moment is stressful for most transgender troops — those being removed voluntarily, who have few options; the people who haven’t notified the chain of command, who may be living in fear; and the service members who will delay their transition, or never transition, because of the federal government’s ban on transgender troops.
“For me that’s heartbreaking, because that really is putting your life on hold,” she said.
A federal immigration judge has granted asylum to a woman orphaned in Iran in the 1970s and adopted by an American war veteran, whom immigration officials threatened this year with deportation to the country with which the U.S. is now at war.
Judge Andrew Fishkin’s ruling probably ends a months-long ordeal for the California woman, one of thousands adopted from abroad who were never granted citizenship because of bureaucratic loopholes between adoption and immigration law.
The woman has lived in the United States since she was adopted by American parents as a toddler and has no criminal record. The Associated Press is not naming her because she worries her legal situation remains tenuous as the administration has time to appeal. A federal judge has allowed her to use a pseudonym, “Ms. S,” in her challenge to the government’s determination of her immigration status.
The woman received a letter from the Department of Homeland Security in February that ordered her to appear for removal proceedings, saying she is subject to deportation because she overstayed her visa in March 1974 at 4 years old.
The woman, 56, described what came next as a terrifying and humiliating few months.
She grew up in a Christian, military family on a farm in Wisconsin and was taught to be patriotic. But the documents she received from the government described her as an “alien;” some said she did not understand English, which is the only language she speaks.
Immigration officials told her she was being arrested, but was released and tracked with an ankle monitor. She bought new pants to try to hide it and taught herself not to cross her legs in work meetings, terrified it would threaten the corporate job in healthcare she’s held for almost two decades.
They fingerprinted her and took her DNA. She said she was obviously weeping in the mug shot they snapped of her.
She prepared herself to be detained: She put her bills on autopay and gave her friends a key to her home.
Her lawyer, Emily Howe, said the government had the power to agree she is an American citizen.
“Instead they treated her like a terrorist, like she was the worst of the worst criminals,” Howe said. “It felt very Big Brother, very Orwellian.”
The Department of Homeland Security declined to comment on the record on an individual case.
The Associated Press profiled the woman in 2024 as part of a story about how many international adoptees were left without citizenship because their American adoptive parents failed to naturalize them.
The woman’s parents were living in Iran, where her father was working for a U.S. government contractor, in the 1970s. He was retired from the Air Force as a lieutenant colonel. He’d been held for years a prisoner of war in Germany during World War II.
The couple found the toddler at an orphanage and returned to the U.S. with her in 1973 and soon completed the adoption. At that time, parents had to separately naturalize adopted children. The woman’s parents have since died.
She didn’t learn she hadn’t been naturalized until she applied for a passport at 38 years old. She still doesn’t know how the oversight happened. She searched her father’s papers and found a letter from a lawyer, dated 1975, that said he was working with immigration officials, “it appears this matter is concluded,” and billed her father for his services.
She filed a federal lawsuit this month trying to prohibit the government from removing her and forcing it to grant her citizenship.
She has long believed she should be considered a U.S. citizen: She has a Social Security card, and a driver’s license and has been legally allowed to work and pay taxes for decades. It’s only the immigration agency that denies she is a citizen. She suspects her paperwork was lost, probably when militants seized the U.S. Embassy in Tehran in 1979.
Fishkin seemed to agree: He wrote in his ruling that documents from that embassy are not available to her or to the U.S. government. He declared her a refugee, entitled to work in the U.S. His ruling puts the woman on a pathway to being recognized as a citizen.
She’d felt hopeful, she said, when she learned her court date before Fishkin was scheduled for her late father’s birthday. She always felt like she needed to protect not only herself but also her father’s legacy. He was a conscientious military official, she said, who would not have knowingly allowed such a glaring oversight that left his daughter in legal limbo.
A former US Army combat surgeon who volunteered at Gaza hospital has a Democratic primary in New Jersey. Here’s what you need to know about Adam Hamawy.
Nick Bilton, the new executive producer of “60 Minutes,” received a hostile welcome Monday from the CBS News program’s most respected correspondent Scott Pelley as the staff is still reeling over last week’s firings.
In the first staff meeting since Bilton was named last week, Pelley accused CBS News Editor-in-chief Bari Weiss of “murdering” the country’s most-watched news program, which recently finished the TV season with a 9 percent ratings increase. Recordings of the meeting were circulated to journalists.
“She is murdering ‘60 Minutes,’” Pelley said. “She does not love this place. She was brought in to kill it, and she’s been doing exactly that.” Pelley also attacked the credentials of Bilton, a former New York Times tech reporter and documentary filmmaker who like Weiss has no previous experience running a TV news operation.
David Ellison, chief executive of CBS News parent Paramount, brought in Weiss — a skeptic of legacy media — with a mandate to move the division more to the political center. But many critics have seen the move as an attempt to placate the Trump administration while Ellison seeks regulatory approval for his deal to acquire Warner Bros. Discovery,
“60 Minutes,” has long been in Trump’s cross hairs. The president sued the program last year over the editing of an interview with his 2024 opponent former Vice President Kamala Harris. The suit was settled just ahead of the Federal Communications Commission clearing the way for Ellison’s Skydance Media takeover of Paramount.
One person close to “60 Minutes” said attendees at the meeting in the Manhattan West Side offices described it as something they had never witnessed in their careers. The confrontation — and the applause Pelley received from his colleagues during the meeting — also demonstrates how CBS News management may have underestimated the staff’s devotion to the program, now closing in on its sixth decade, that has long been considered the most powerful and respected platform in TV journalism.
A representative for CBS News declined comment on the meeting.
Pelley is held in especially high stature at the network due to his work over the years in dangerous war zones. When he was anchor at the “CBS Evening News,” he displayed photos of CBS News journalists who have died in the line of duty for the network going back to George Polk, who was killed during Greece’s civil war in 1948.
People close to CBS News management said both Bilton and Weiss reached out to Pelley last week to discuss the changes and their plans for the program’s future but he did not respond.
One CBS News veteran said the tense meeting “reads like Scott wants to be fired.”
Weiss has maintained she is committed to expanding the “60 Minutes” brand so it generates viewing and revenue outside of its Sunday night broadcast. But she has also clashed with producers and correspondents over the handling of stories such as Alfonsi’s report on the Trump administration’s use of harsh El Salvador prisons to hold undocumented Venezuelan migrants.
Alfonsi’s message to colleagues saying the segment was held for political reasons led to her dismissal from the program.
Vega posted a message last week claiming she had been facing pressure to insert political bias into her stories. “I very much fear what comes next for … the future of the legendary broadcast,” Vega said in a social media post on Thursday, referring to “60 Minutes.”
A CBS News representative said last week that Vega’s claims “are not based in reality.”
Bilton has tried to reassure veterans at the program that he remains committed to the program’s mandate to provide tough, investigative journalism. The words he’s used in several meetings are that next season will not be much different than the successful year the program just completed.
“He’s very much committed to continuing and extending the kind of journalism that ’60 Minutes’ has been known for.” said one person close to Bilton.
SAVANNAH, Ga. — An advocacy group has filed suit against the Trump administration over its decision to reinstate a near-ban on abortions for veterans and their family members who depend on the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs for healthcare.
The federal lawsuit filed Thursday says the rule finalized by the VA on Dec. 31 takes away limited abortion access that was “crucial for the health, autonomy, and equality of veterans and their family members.”
Attorneys for the group Minority Veterans of America want the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Federal Circuit to throw out the rule. They say the VA adopted the change without citing medical evidence or other justifications, violating the Administrative Procedures Act that governs federal rulemaking.
The VA did not include abortion in its coverage until 2022. President Biden’s administration added it months after the U.S. Supreme Court overturned Roe v. Wade and states’ abortion bans began taking effect.
Abortion access the VA provided under Biden was limited, applying only in cases when a pregnant woman’s life or health was at risk, or in cases of rape or incest.
The Biden change allowed the VA to provide abortion even in states where it was banned. And it brought the VA’s coverage into line with other federal healthcare plans — including Medicaid and TriCare coverage for active military members and their families — that allowed limited abortion access.
The VA announced its proposal to undo those changes last August, a few months after President Trump returned to the White House.
The VA had said it will still provide abortions in cases where a pregnant woman’s life is threatened. That’s something state laws allow, even in places where bans are in place.
However, the VA no longer allows exceptions for abortions in cases of rape, incest or to protect a pregnant woman’s health. Abortion counseling is also no longer allowed.
A VA spokesperson declined to comment, noting the agency typically doesn’t comment on pending litigation.
Minority Veterans of America says it represents more than 3,600 members across the U.S.
“Our community includes veterans with complex medical histories, those who have experienced pregnancy complications, and survivors of sexual violence and trauma, all of whom need access to abortion care and counseling to protect their health,” Lindsay Church, the group’s executive director, said in a statement.
In publishing its final rule in December, the VA said it was restoring the agency’s longstanding position that abortions were not “needed” under federal law and that “this determination did not prohibit providing life-saving care to pregnant veterans.”
The lawsuit says one of Minority Veteran of America’s members is a military veteran who just learned she was pregnant in early May. She suffers from chronic pain that has been exacerbated by the pregnancy, placing her health “at substantial risk,” says the lawsuit, which withheld the woman’s name to protect her privacy.
The lawsuit says the VA won’t allow the unnamed veteran to receive an abortion “even if her health is at risk, unless a provider determines an abortion is necessary to save her life.”
