The Brief

Just about every Saturday, Ulises Parias drives two hours to visit his father, Carlitos Ricardo "Richard" Parias, at the Adelanto Detention Center in San Bernardino County.

They talk on the phone regularly. Parias tells his father about his 16-year-old sister and about his college classes.

Occasionally, his dad's health comes up: His left arm hurts and he gets headaches, fevers and blurry vision. It has been over eight months since Parias' father was shot by federal agents during an immigration enforcement arrest in Los Angeles. Immigration attorneys representing Parias allege he is not receiving adequate medical care, including pain medication and physical therapy, following an encounter with federal agents that resulted in Parias being shot near his left elbow.

"The last thing he told me was, have a good day at school. Then, like five minutes later, I heard some commotion outside," Parias, 20, said in an interview with NPR. "My heart stopped for a minute, and then I quickly went outside [to] the streets. And that's when I found my dad's car. The window was shattered."

Attorneys for Parias have tried to secure his release from detention while his immigration case plays out.

So far, that request has been denied. Parias' case, his attorneys say, is one that exemplifies the challenges facing many detainees in a judicial and detention system with limited resources and dwindling avenues for any recourse, including for people with no criminal record.

This year brought increased scrutiny on federal law enforcement's use of force after two federal agents shot and killed two U.S. citizens in Minneapolis and on the conditions within immigration detention centers, including medical care, amid some of the highest numbers of people in detention and of deaths of those in custody. Parias' case showcases the nexus of the issues — and the narrow scope of oversight and resources within the judicial and agency level for someone injured by the federal agency that is also detaining them.

"There are not enough people, and there's not enough concern. And that's leading to permanent disability and death," said Margaret Hellerstein, an immigration attorney representing Parias. "The legal avenues have been exhausted at this point."

Parias entered the country illegally in 2002 from Mexico and spent the past two decades living in the Los Angeles area, including with his two U.S. citizen children.

He gained a large social media following, monetizing his TikTok account as a primary source of income as he shared community events. When the Trump administration increased enforcement in Los Angeles last year, Parias began documenting immigration arrests and federal officer presence for his more than 250,000 followers. After more than two decades of living and working in the U.S. unnoticed, his activism put him on ICE's radar.

"I was worried. I was scared. I would keep telling him, 'Please be careful,'" Ulises Parias recounted. "'The only thing they care about is that you're not a citizen. That's all.'"

Encounter with ICE leads to shooting

In October, Parias was leaving his house when vehicles driven by federal officers blocked his path. Body camera footage obtained by the LA Times shows several federal agents surrounding the vehicle.

"I'm going to break the window," one yelled shortly after Parias came to a stop and began to smash the passenger-side window of the car Parias was driving, while holding a gun in the other hand. Yelling in Spanish can be heard from officers saying, "I am going to shoot you," and, "Turn off the car." Others yell, "Police, get out!"

Several officers drew their firearms as Parias appeared to try to move his car, which was blocked by a larger police vehicle.

Parias can be heard yelling in Spanish, "I don't have anything," and, "Kill me."

Officers yelled various instructions, including, "If you move, we will shoot," and, "Turn off the car," and seconds later, an officer opened fire.

"All use-of-force incidents involving individuals in ICE custody are documented and subject to internal review, consistent with ICE detention standards and DHS oversight requirements," an unnamed DHS spokesperson told NPR in a statement. The agency did not respond to questions about the outcome of any investigation into this use of force.

Following the shooting, Parias was taken to a hospital to be treated for a gunshot wound near his left elbow. The bullet also hit a U.S. marshal who was a part of the operation. The federal government brought criminal charges against Parias: assault on a federal officer.

Parias did not have any criminal history or infraction before the incident when he was shot, Hellerstein said.

NPR reviewed medical records from November to May that show Parias reported consistent pain and decreased mobility. A report from May includes details of pain radiating from his neck, down his arm, to his hand on his left side. The report also says no therapy was completed and Parias had been in a sling for six months. The records detail that there is decreased mobility in the left shoulder, and when "palpating his left forearm … presents tears in his eyes due to pain."

For months following the shooting, he was primarily prescribed Motrin, seizure and nerve pain medication gabapentin and muscle rub cream for the pain, as well as other medications.

DHS told NPR that from November to June, Parias has been seen by a nurse who, among other things, provided him a brace and sling, educated him on exercises to improve his range of motion and prescribed various pain and anti-inflammatory medications.

In March, a nurse assessed Parias for complaints of increasing pain, and the nurse noted decreased mobility, prompting the nurse to submit a referral for an orthopedic evaluation, as well as additional medications. An orthopedic surgeon evaluated Parias and also provided a physical therapy referral, according to DHS, though by May his pain still was not relieving. He has seen a doctor as recently as this week.

Immigration detention hinges on a bill that passed with bipartisan support

After spending nearly a week in the hospital in October immediately after the shooting, Parias was placed in federal criminal custody while the charges against him played out in federal court. In November, he was released and transferred to ICE custody, which according to court records, was done pursuant to the Laken Riley Act.

That legislation was the first bill President Donald Trump signed into law in his second term.

The measure, passed with the help of Democrats, directs federal immigration enforcement to detain and deport those without legal status charged with minor theft or shoplifting, assault of a law enforcement officer, or crimes resulting in death or serious bodily injury of another person.

It broadly expanded the scope of who ICE would prioritize for detention.

In December, U.S. District Judge Fernando Olgin dismissed the charges against Parias, citing, among other reasons, that he had not received constitutionally adequate access to legal representation. The government is appealing that decision, disputing that Parias was deprived of access to counsel.

While Parias remained in ICE custody, immigration attorneys submitted a habeas petition in District Court also to Judge Olgin. That is a legal avenue to argue that a person should not be detained.

"No one is eligible for bond. No one is eligible for a [bond] hearing … You have to file a habeas," Hellerstein said. "Which means, unfortunately, that for people like Richard who are languishing in detention and have serious medical concerns, you could be waiting for your decision for months and months and months."

A federal judge then ordered an immigration judge to hold a bond hearing. In court filings to immigration court, ICE argued that the immigration judge didn't have jurisdiction over the case because of the Laken Riley Act. The judge, according to filings reviewed by NPR, agreed and ultimately denied bond, adding that she would have done so even if the act was not in effect because Parias could be considered a flight risk due to his lack of legal status.

"I don't think that he was given a constitutionally adequate bond hearing. And to be clear, this is not unique to him. It's the way the law is at the moment," Hellerstein said, adding that the Trump administration also created a mandatory detention policy in addition to the Laken Riley Act, which mandates that anyone who entered the country illegally be held in detention while they fight their case. That has resulted in high numbers of habeas petitions in federal courts.

Hellerstein is going back to Judge Olgin, who ordered the bond hearing, asking for him to let Parias out of detention. That request has been pending since February.

Limited options for recourse 

Seeking additional help, the family and lawyers reached out to the office of Rep. Sydney Kamlager-Dove, D-Calif., who later visited Parias at the Adelanto Detention Center.

"I have a constituent who is being detained in a facility hours from where his family lives. Who is in pain," Kamlager-Dove said in an interview with NPR. "What I am seeking is for him to get the treatment that he needs so that he can heal and so he can also want to live."

Caseworkers in the congresswoman's office have been in touch with DHS about Parias, including with the ICE officer assigned to the case. But she said that although the agency has been responsive, including in facilitating her visits, it is not providing what she is asking for.

"What I need to hear is that he is going to physical therapy, he is getting the kind of antibiotics and medical and prescription medication that he needs to help him with his vision, to help him with his headaches, to help him with his pain," Kamlager-Dove said.

Recently, congressional Republicans approved $70 billion for immigration enforcement, including detention capacity. But internal oversight offices at the agency are unfunded, including those that specifically investigated complaints about immigration detention conditions such as allegations about insufficient access to medical care.

Without control of either chamber of Congress, Democratic lawmakers and immigration advocates have limited options to ask for help.

"We don't have that many oversight tools. We have stretched ourselves to the limit in the hearings as a party in the minority," Kamlager-Dove said.

In recent weeks, other Democrats have continued to go to detention centers, including in New Jersey and Texas, seeking to review detainees' access to food and medical care, and information about detention capacity. But without legislative might, the lawmakers' options to go further are dwindling. Like others in her party, Kamlager-Dove is eyeing the upcoming midterms as a moment for potential change.

"If we are victorious in November, then we will have a lot more tools at our disposal," she said.

Detention policy adds pressure to families to leave

In the meantime, Ulises, Parias' son, has been working to fix the car in which his father was shot. He has cleaned up the blood and the broken glass.

He picks his sister up from school, talks to his father nearly every day on the phone and has helped his family navigate the complicated legal landscape.

"Every time a lawyer came to the house to speak with us, I had to translate everything," he said. "So basically I was the only person basically helping out the family just because I was the oldest."

Hellerstein sees Parias' detention as another example of the administration using detention as a tool to encourage detained and other undocumented immigrants to opt to leave the country.

"For most people, ICE detention is not punitive. Detention is civil detention," Hellerstein said. "You are not in ICE detention because you're being punished. You're in ICE detention because they think you're a danger or a flight risk."

A DHS spokesperson, in the statement to NPR, also said, "ICE detention is still not punitive."

For someone like Parias, who does not have a criminal record, the allegation of him being a danger to a community is easy to refute, she said. But a flight risk could be anyone without a clear path to legal status.

For now, Parias' son is trying to focus on his grades as he works on earning a mechanical engineering degree and find moments of joy like watching the World Cup games. But even that is bittersweet.

"This is the first World Cup where I'm experiencing it alone. And it feels wrong. Honestly, it feels wrong knowing that I don't have my dad to watch it with me," Parias said. "So I'm hoping the next step is to get a call from the lawyer saying soon he will be with us again."
Copyright 2026 NPR

Throughout the arduous process to rebuild the Altadena home where she lived for nearly 50 years, Mary Landau has sometimes felt like giving up. Much of what has sustained her is the encouragement she receives from her disaster case manager.

“She said, ‘You can do this,’” said Landau, a 78-year-old retired teacher who enjoys studying Altadena history and cannot imagine living anywhere else, even after the Eaton Fire destroyed her house. “She gave me hope and strength.”

Landau meets weekly with Veda Ashby Romero, a trained recovery expert who helps her navigate insurance, complete online forms and qualify for financial assistance.

Now Landau is one of roughly 1,400 households affected by the 2025 Los Angeles fires who are set to lose their disaster case managers by the end of October, as a standoff between California and the Federal Emergency Management Agency over the program’s funding drags on.

The news has rattled Landau. “The safety net has been pulled out from under me, and the hope is not as strong as it was,” she said.

The program’s early termination is the latest setback for L.A. communities in the middle of recovery and awaiting billions of additional federal dollars. It also highlights how some disaster-impacted communities still face issues like delayed FEMA payments and inconsistent communication, despite President Donald Trump’s administration pledging to streamline processes after long criticizing the agency’s bureaucracy.

FEMA did not respond to a request for comment but has previously touted the assistance it has provided for the program. The White House says California has mismanaged the crisis.

Case managers simplify a notoriously opaque recovery process

Landau kept her insurance policy up to date for the 1938 two-bedroom, one-bathroom ranch home where she raised her three children and tended a wildflower garden. She still faced a shortfall of at least $200,000 to rebuild the modest home and owed $225,000 on her mortgage.

Ashby Romero supports her through the insurance process — a tedious one that has involved multiple adjusters and required creating an inventory of the half-century’s worth of possessions she lost. She also found Landau a grant to cover a year’s worth of mortgage payments. “I would never have gotten it without her,” Landau said. “I’m very bad with paperwork.”

Trained disaster case managers help people find rental assistance, new employment and money to close the gap between what insurance pays and the actual cost to rebuild. They guide survivors on how to avoid scams, challenge insurance payouts and appeal FEMA decisions.

“The recovery process is very complicated, and a lot of the systems are not designed to make it easy for people,” said Matt Gsell, disaster recovery manager at CORE, the nonprofit managing Landau’s case and one of five participating in LA’s case management program.

Late reimbursements and insufficient funds led California to end the program

After the January 2025 fires, California requested $28 million for case management. FEMA instead awarded $13.2 million for 24 months, to be paid in four equal installments.

FEMA can fund disaster case management for presidentially declared major disasters. The money is reimbursed to the state, which usually contracts with one or more nonprofits to administer the program. In the case of an exceptional disaster, states can request extensions for up to 36 months.

By August, FEMA had made only one of the four payments, leaving the state to front the rest despite “numerous requests” for reimbursement, according to the California Department of Social Services.

FEMA also had not answered a March request for an additional $6.5 million to sustain the program the full 24 months, in light of high demand. Seven hundred households remain on a waitlist for services.

California then announced it could no longer float the costs and would shutter the program at the end of October. FEMA eventually reimbursed the outstanding payments but did not give an answer about the additional money.

Rep. Judy Chu, a Democrat whose district includes Altadena, told The Associated Press that FEMA also had not responded to questions from her office about the additional money. Failing to fund the program the full 24 months “risks abandoning survivors,” Chu said, adding that FEMA should also be prepared to extend the program for longer if needs persist.

Nonprofits scramble to reassign clients

With the projected end date looming, nonprofits are triaging open cases and trying to move as many as possible to other organizations that can continue the work using philanthropic dollars.

But there won’t be enough resources to keep everyone in case management.

“They are overloaded,” said Bree Jensen, spokesperson for the Eaton Fire Collaborative and an Eaton Fire survivor. “You can’t put everything onto the local nonprofits.”

The uncertainty is destabilizing, as more than 100 case managers stand to lose their jobs and must weigh whether to seek new work now or wait for answers, Jensen said.

“We can’t go month to month,” said Gsell. CORE has already closed some of its less severe cases and is trying to transfer 200 of its 450 clients to other nonprofits.

The case management program is just a small part of the federal support California has requested to recover from fires that destroyed more than 16,000 structures.

Gov. Gavin Newsom, a Democrat, asked Trump, a Republican, and Congress for $15.7 billion, pared down from an earlier request of $33 billion, much of which would go toward rebuilding housing. Trump has not sent the Republican-controlled Congress a supplemental disaster request for the L.A. fires.

White House spokesperson Lauren Bis said the Trump administration has obligated billions of dollars for L.A.’s recovery.

Landau is waiting for construction to begin on her new home. She is still wrangling with insurance and a bank to receive her final payment. She and her children lean on each other for support, she said, but pressing on won’t be the same without Ashby Romero.

“To meet with somebody who cares about you, wants to see that you land on your feet in a good situation,” she said, ”it was so important.”

California Attorney General Rob Bonta has filed the state’s 100th lawsuit against the federal government since President Donald Trump took office for a second time in 2025.

Bonta reached that milestone in 21 months. During the first Trump administration, California officials sued the federal government a total of 123 times in four years.

The lawsuit filed Thursday in U.S. District Court for the Central District of California alleges that U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement overstepped its Constitutional limits by taking people into custody at state courthouses, a practice forbidden by a U.S. District Court judge that the lawsuit alleges ICE nevertheless continues to employ.

For instance, the California Justice Department found that ICE detained 34 people at state courthouses in June 2026. In July 2026, the month after the judicial order to stop making arrests at courthouses, ICE detained 28 people at courthouses.

“ICE’s directive on courthouse enforcement and the resulting enforcement activities have had a profound chilling effect that has hindered California’s ability to enforce the law and protect public safety,” the state Justice Department said in a news release.

Picking people up at a courthouse can have a chilling effect on witnesses, victims and even suspects who are afraid to show up for court, California Supreme Court Chief Justice Patricia Guerrero said last year.

“Making courthouses a focus of immigration enforcement hinders, rather than helps, the administration of justice by deterring witnesses and victims from coming forward and discouraging individuals from asserting their rights,” Guerrero said.

In September, Gov. Gavin Newsom signed into law a measure that requires federal immigration agents to present a judicial warrant and identify themselves before making arrests within 1,000 feet of a state courthouse.

This article was originally published on CalMatters and was republished under the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives license.

Rancho Palos Verdes’ landslide woes have hit the city’s coffers hard. By the end of June 2027, the city will have spent around $75 million just on landslide-related damages over the last three and a half years.

So now, they are looking at one of the city’s best-known attractions for help: the Terranea Resort. Voters in the city are being asked to vote in November on Measure RS, which would increase the tax overnight hotel guests pay from 10% to 13%.

A two-star inn in the city would also be affected if the tax measure passes.

How would the tax help?

If Measure RS passes, it could bring in around $2.2 million annually.

“We reached out to Terranea as we were exploring different revenue streams and talked to them about the possibility of increasing the [transient occupancy tax] from 10% to 13%,” said Ara Mihranian, the city manager. “We looked at comparables of similar resort hotels in the greater Los Angeles area and Orange County that are generally their competitors or similar establishments to see where they ranked. And Terranea was below the market rate in terms of the transient occupancy tax.”

The 102-acre resort sits on bluffs along the coast overlooking the Pacific Ocean and offers guests casitas, villas and rooms that start at $350 and can exceed $1,500 during peak seasons.

A spokesperson for Terranea Resort declined to comment for this story.

How we got here

The Portuguese Bend area in Rancho Palos Verdes was once green rolling hills offering spectacular views of the Pacific Ocean and Catalina Island. Now, much of that land is riddled with 20-foot chasms, some spanning 12 feet.

For decades, land movement was minimal. But with above-average rainfall in 2022 and 2023, that movement rapidly accelerated — up to 1 foot per week in some places. Land movement has since slowed to about an inch a week, thanks in part to wells the city installed that suck water out of the ground. But damage to the area remains and will likely never be abated.

RPV has spent a significant amount of money to lessen the erosion.

Mihranian said the city has filled fissures in the landslide area, installed protective lining in the canyons and has checked all the deep dewatering wells to make sure they can pump water out of the ground so it cannot collect and cause land movement — especially important ahead of El Niño.

“We're also making sure that the wells and the generators that support and energize the wells are encased and housed so that in the event of extreme weather, they are protected from any elements,” he said.

The city has also installed pipes along the main road through the landslide complex so that, instead of flooding the road, water will be diverted to the ocean.

Still, even if the measure passes, the $2.2 million annually will still not cover all landslide-related costs. A spokesperson told LAist the city is still “aggressively” pursuing grants to cover mounting costs.

"No Kings" protests are returning for a fourth round Saturday, Oct. 17.

This time, the focus is on the November midterms and getting people prepared to vote. Previous protests had drawn large crowds.

"We expect tens of thousands of people to attend the various No Kings rallies throughout the greater Los Angeles area, and we would not be surprised to see tens of thousands at the downtown rally itself," said Nick Miller, a press coordinator with 50501 SoCal, a partnering organization.

That protest is taking place at 1 p.m. at Gloria Molina Grand Park.

LAPD said they are aware of the rally and don’t anticipate any issues.

Pasadena, Long Beach and Riverside are also holding rallies.

Where are they happening in SoCal?

• Burbank: 10 a.m. to noon at Abraham Lincoln Park
• Culver City: 11 a.m. to 12:30 p.m. at Culver City Hall
• Downtown L.A.: 1 to 5 p.m. at Gloria Molina Grand Park
• Fontana: 10 a.m. to 3 p.m. at Seville Park
• Huntington Beach: 10 a.m. to 1 p.m. at Huntington Beach Pier
• Irvine: 3. to 5 p.m. at Trabuco Center
• Pasadena: 11 a.m. to 1 p.m. at Colorado Boulevard and Fair Oaks Avenue
• Riverside: 11 a.m. to 1 p.m. at Market Street and University Avenue
• Santa Clarita: 9 a.m. to noon at Valencia Boulevard and McBean Parkway
• Torrance: 11 a.m. to 1 p.m. at Torrance City Hall
• Whittier: 12:30 to 2 p.m. at Whittier City Hall