The Brief

Andrew Do has resigned as Orange County supervisor and agreed to plead guilty to a conspiracy to steal millions of dollars meant to feed needy seniors, following a months-long LAist investigation and federal probe.

The criminal charges and plea deal were announced Tuesday morning by U.S. Attorney Martin Estrada at a news conference in downtown Santa Ana. Out of $9.3 million in taxpayer dollars that were supposed to feed people, only 15% went to people in need, Estrada said.

“Mr. Do and his co-conspirators stole money from the poor,” said Estrada, who called the conspiracy “Robin Hood in reverse.”

Do agreed to plead guilty and signed a plea agreement to one count of conspiracy to commit bribery and faces a possible five year prison term. He accepted over $550,000 in bribes for directing and voting in favor of more than $10 million in COVID funds to a charity affiliated with his daughter Rhiannon Do, according to a U.S. attorney's office news release.

In what that office described as a “package deal,” Rhiannon Do admitted to filing a falsified mortgage application that disguised her use of taxpayer dollars in the purchase of a house in Tustin. The deal calls for Rhiannon Do, a 23-year-old law student, to be placed on three years’ probation through a pretrial diversion program. Do admitted in his plea agreement that $381,500 in public funds were transferred to an escrow company and used by his daughter Rhiannon Do to purchase the home in Tustin for $1,035,000.

Through the investigation, Estrada said, investigators seized more than “$2.4 million in illicit proceeds generated in the scheme.” Andrew Do, he said, has agreed to forfeit his rights to any of that as well as “forfeit two properties, one in Santa Ana and one in Tustin, related to the scheme to purchase using proceeds from the scheme.”

Andrew Do will also forfeit his pension accrued from June 2020 when the scheme began.

O.C. Supervisor Andrew Do at the county Board of Supervisors meeting on Jan. 23, 2024.

(

Nick Gerda

/

LAist

)

'Media reports' led to federal investigation

Estrada said the U.S. attorney’s office began their investigation when they saw media reports about how then-Supervisor Do had directed money to Viet America Society. LAist was the first to report on how Andrew Do directed the money to the nonprofit, without disclosing his familial ties. That report last November has been followed by a series of exclusive investigative pieces into alleged misuse of public funds in Orange County.

“We take action when we see those reports," Estrada said. "We brought our federal partners into the case to fully investigate, and we discovered this extensive and very troubling bribery."

Orange County DA Todd Spitzer echoed the seriousness of the findings.

The money “was literally stolen out of the mouths of our most vulnerable residents,” Spitzer said.

Spitzer said the charges marked the first time in 50 years that an O.C. supervisor faced criminal conviction.

Following the money: Credit card payments, property taxes

According to Spitzer, Rhiannon Do received around $8,000 a month in taxpayer money while Andrew Do’s other daughter, who was not named at the news conference, received over $100,000 funneled through COVID federal funds.

“The monies were used to pay off American Express cards, Mr. Do's American Express card, pay the property taxes of their home in Westminster and the home in North Tustin,” Spitzer said.

Spitzer was also sharply critical of the Orange County Board of Supervisors for allowing the allocation of tens of millions of dollars in COVID relief money to be distributed outside of public view. That lack of transparency, Spitzer said, allowed Andrew Do to "fill the pockets of insiders, himself and his loved ones — his family members” instead of helping the public.

"This was while Do was bragging about [providing] 2,700 meals a week, meanwhile the elderly were dying," Spitzer said.

Attorneys Paul S. Meyer and Craig Wilke, who represented former Anaheim Mayor Sidhu on federal corruption charges, are now representing Andrew Do.

Meyer said in the statement Tuesday: “Out of respect for the legal process, no statement is appropriate at this time. However, it is appropriate to convey Andrew Do’s sincere apology and deep sadness to his family, to his constituents in District One and to his colleagues.”

They previously said that the former supervisor looked "forward to a thorough and fair investigation.”

David Wiechert, an attorney for Rhiannon Do, reached Tuesday said they have no comment.

Andrew Do’s wife is O.C. Superior Court Assistant Presiding Judge Cheri Pham. Spitzer said she is entitled to a thorough investigation and she’s “entitled to a presumption of innocence.”

Last week, Andrew Do’s Chief of Staff Chris Wangsaporn resigned from his role.

Chris Wangsaporn, chief of staff to O.C. Supervisor Andrew Do, at the O.C. Board of Supervisors meeting on Dec. 19, 2023.

(

Nick Gerda / LAist

)

“I can only say that there's an ongoing investigation with respect to Mr. Wangsaporn and his wife,” Spitzer said.

LAist reported earlier this month that Wangsaporn’s then-girlfriend, now wife, Josie Batres, was hired by a nonprofit, Mind OC, to carry out a $275,000 mental health contract funded by the county. County officials told LAist the county paid out the full contract, but none of the required work turned in to the county. Batres and Wangsaporn got married about one year into the two-year contract.

“This is like a spiderweb of involvement and so it's going to take time. We know a lot,” Spitzer said. “We obviously have a lot of documents, we've seized a lot of information from homes, we have a lot of electronic data that's being analyzed that we do not have all the results.”

Do submitted his resignation on Tuesday to O.C. Supervisors Board Chair Don Wagner, according to a county spokesperson who provided the resignation letter to LAist. Wagner will oversee District 1 duties until a new supervisor is elected in the upcoming elections, according to a county spokesperson.

LAist's investigation

The former supervisor's funding of Viet America Society — and the lack of answers about what happened with the funds — has been the focus of nearly a year of investigative articles by LAist.

Starting last November, LAist reporting uncovered millions of taxpayer dollars then-Supervisor Do directed to his daughter’s nonprofit without disclosing the family relationship, and that have gone unaccounted for.

In all, LAist’s investigation reported Andrew Do directed more than $13 million to the group using a process outside of public view, which was not illegal at the time. (Those laws are now changing, under recently signed legislation introduced in response to LAist’s reporting on Do’s awarding of the funds.)

LAist also revealed in December that the group failed to submit required audits showing whether the money was spent appropriately.

Read the U.S. Attorney's allegations

Read Andrew Do's plea agreement

Listen

What do other supervisors say now?

In a joint statement, the four remaining board members reacted separately to their colleague's resignation and plea agreement.

Board Chairman Donald P. Wagner thanked federal investigators and added that the county's lawsuits remain active.

"The County remains committed to continuing its civil lawsuits in order to hold all responsible parties accountable and to recover misused public funds," Wagner said.

Supervisor Doug Chaffee called it "a troubling moment for our County. It's disheartening to witness a betrayal of public trust by someone in a position of responsibility. This highlights the critical need for ethical leadership. The Board remains dedicated to serving the people with integrity."

Supervisor Vicente Sarmiento underscored that investigations must continue.

"The unsealing of the indictments demonstrates years of unethical and illegal acts that directly harmed the most vulnerable in our County," he said. "We must not discontinue the investigations until all parties involved are brought to justice, and the systemic problems that led to these abuses are reformed."

And Supervisor Katrina Foley expressed disgust at what she called "the staggering level of corruption, greed, and deception described in the unsealed federal indictment."

"Andrew Do and his associates carried out an overt scheme to enrich themselves off our hard-earned tax dollars, "Foley said. "Andrew Do must pay for his crimes. This Board is united in continuing to do the people's business of governing and moving forward from this dark day in Orange County."

The backstory

Law enforcement searched the Tustin home of Rhiannon Do, on Aug. 22, 2024.

(

Jason Armond

/

Los Angeles Times via Getty Images

)

FBI agents outside of Andrew Do and Cheri Pham's home in Orange County on Aug. 22, 2024.

(

Adolfo Guzman-Lopez

/

LAist

)

In August, federal agents searched homes owned by Andrew Do and his wife — Assistant Presiding Judge Cheri Pham of O.C. Superior Court — and their daughter, Rhiannon Do. That same day, agents also searched a home owned by Viet America Society founder Peter Pham, a restaurant that received millions from VAS and another home associated with Peter Pham.

From left supervisors: Don Wagner, Doug Chafee, Andrew Do, Vicente Sarmiento and Katrina Foley.

(

Yusra Farzan

/

LAist

)

For almost a decade, Do had been one of the most powerful government officials in Orange County. For years during his time on the Board of Supervisors, he’s had a key role in overseeing how billions of dollars in funding were spent to address homelessness and mental health.

He’d been one of the five elected county supervisors since winning a 2015 special election by a razor thin margin of 43 votes, and ran unsuccessfully for state treasurer in 2022. Prior to resigning, Do already was termed out of office this December.

He was also one of the highest ranking Vietnamese American officials in Orange County, home to one of the largest Vietnamese communities in the United States.

The week before the federal searches in August, county officials sued the nonprofit Viet America Society (VAS) and its leaders, including Rhiannon Do — accusing them of an “illegal and fraudulent scheme” to divert federal COVID dollars then-Supervisor Do directed to the group. The nonprofit’s leaders also were accused by the county of using the money to purchase homes in Orange County and converting the taxpayer dollars to cash through “voluminous, unaccounted for” ATM withdrawals.

Andrew Do has not returned dozens of requests for comment from LAist since last November asking about his funding of his daughter’s group. In a Vietnamese-language radio broadcast in August, a few hours after the county sued his daughter, Do defended his family and Viet America Society from accusations of wrongdoing. He said the nonprofit was complying with the law, and that allegations otherwise are “slander.”

Rhiannon Do’s attorney, David Wiechert, previously told LAist she’s a "very honest, law-abiding, hardworking young woman" before declining to comment Tuesday.

"It’s our intention to demonstrate to the government the error of their ways if they think she’s done something wrong,” he said.

Judge Pham has previously declined to comment through the court’s spokesperson, citing a statewide ethics rule barring judges from commenting on cases or issues that are likely to come before the courts.

FBI agents carry material out of a home owned by Supervisor Andrew Do and his wife Orange County Superior Court Assistant Presiding Judge Cheri Pham during searches in August.

(

Adolfo Guzman-Lopez

/

LAist

)

Since the federal searches in August, Do faced increasing calls to resign from his elected position. That includes calls from two of his four colleagues on the Board of Supervisors and six of the seven city council members in Huntington Beach, the largest city in his district. Until Tuesday, he'd given no public indication he’d considered doing so.

He had not attended a county supervisor meeting in the two months since the federal searches.

In early September, his four fellow supervisors unanimously voted to strip Supervisor Do of all his committee assignments, including to the high-profile governing board of the Orange County Transportation Authority.

Two weeks later, all four of his colleagues voted to publicly condemn Supervisor Do with a censure. It cites “reckless judgment and favoritism he has demonstrated in directing millions of dollars” to “organizations with no proven track record,” while not disclosing his family ties.

Catch up on LAist’s investigation so far

In November 2023, LAist began investigating how millions in public taxpayer dollars were spent. In total, LAist obtained and reported public records showing more than $13 million in public money that was approved to a little-known nonprofit that was led on and off by Rhiannon Do, the now 23-year-old daughter of former Supervisor Do.

Most of that money was directed to the group by Andrew Do outside of the public’s view and never appeared on public meeting agendas. He did not publicly disclose his family ties. The law at the time didn’t require it. Much of the known funding came from federal coronavirus relief money.

• Read the first article in LAist’s investigation: Top OC official helped direct millions to his daughter’s center without disclosing family connection  
• LAist also reported that VAS was two years overdue in completing a required audit into whether the meal funds were spent appropriately.
• And LAist reported, based on county records we obtained, that the amount of taxpayer money directed to the nonprofit was much larger than what appeared on public agendas.. It totals at least $13.5 million in county funding — tallied from government records obtained and published by LAist. 
• After our reporting, O.C. officials wrote demand letters to the nonprofit saying millions in funding were unaccounted for. They warned it could be forced to repay the funds.
• LAist found government records and reported that the nonprofit went on to miss multiple deadlines set by county officials to provide proof about how funding for meals were spent.
• On Aug. 2, LAist reported O.C. officials were demanding the refund of more than $3 million in public funds awarded by Do to VAS and another nonprofit, Hand to Hand.
• Six days later, LAist reported Orange County officials had expanded demands for refunds of millions in tax dollars from the nonprofits and threatened legal action.
• On Aug. 15, LAist reported O.C. officials sued VAS and its key officers and associated businesses, including Rhiannon Do. The lawsuit alleges that county money was illegally used to purchase five homes and was converted into cash through ATM transactions. 
• Then, on Aug. 19, LAist reported O.C. officials had announced a second lawsuit against Hand to Hand and its CEO to recover millions of taxpayer dollars that were directed by Andrew Do.
• LAist broke the news on Aug. 22 that federal agents were searching Rhiannon Do's home in Tustin. Later that day, Andrew Do's home, and other properties, were also searched by the FBI and IRS.
• On Sept. 10, the O.C. Board of Supervisors unanimously voted to remove then-Supervisor Do from his committee assignments, including his role as a board member for the Orange County Transportation Authority.
• Later in September, three bills inspired by LAist’s investigation that will increase public transparency were signed into law by Gov. Gavin Newsom.
• On Oct. 16, LAist reported that the wife of Andrew Do's top aide was hired for a $275,000 contract. County officials say the work was never turned in.

How to watchdog local government

One of the best things you can do to hold officials accountable is pay attention.

Your city council, board of supervisors, school board and more all hold public meetings that anybody can attend. These are times you can talk to your elected officials directly and hear about the policies they’re voting on that affect your community.

• Read tips on how to get involved.
• The next scheduled board meeting is Tuesday, Oct. 22. You can check out the O.C. Board of Supervisors full calendar here.
• Learn how to submit a public comment to the O.C. Board of Supervisors.

Listen to Imperfect Paradise for the story on how the LAist investigation unfolded...

Listen 38:22

Apple

Spotify

An LAist investigation uncovered more than $13 million in public funds directed by Orange County Supervisor Andrew Do to Viet America Society (VAS) without disclosing his daughter was a leader at the nonprofit. County officials now allege that money was “brazenly plundered” for personal gain. Imperfect Paradise host Antonia Cereijido speaks with LAist correspondent Nick Gerda, who broke the story, about the ongoing investigation.

OC Supervisor Andrew Do to plead guilty to corruption charge following LAist investigation

An LAist investigation uncovered more than $13 million in public funds directed by Orange County Supervisor Andrew Do to Viet America Society (VAS) without disclosing his daughter was a leader at the nonprofit. County officials now allege that money was “brazenly plundered” for personal gain. Imperfect Paradise host Antonia Cereijido speaks with LAist correspondent Nick Gerda, who broke the story, about the ongoing investigation.

Subscribe

• Apple
• Spotify

If you’re already planning to return a holiday gift that you’re just not that into, you could be in for a surprise.

More stores and shopping outlets are charging a restocking fee or a return surcharge of some kind. And many are also imposing deadlines or restrictions on returns, according to the National Retail Federation.

A quick search turned up these policies that might complicate your return plans:

• Best Buy charges a restocking fee of $45, or 15% of the purchase price on certain items, such as prepaid cell phones, cameras, drones and projector screens and … saunas.
• Macy’s offers free in-store and return shipping for its Star Rewards members, but non-members can face a $9.99 return shipping fee, plus tax, that will be deducted from your refund.
• UNIQLO requires online purchases to be returned online, not in a brick-and-mortar location.

How we got here

The reason is simple. We love to return stuff. Retailers are expected to see nearly $850 billion — with a "b" — in returns this year. And nearly 20% of online sales will be returned, according to a report by the National Retail Federation. (Interesting fact: Gen Zers are more likely to return an online purchase, the report found.)

Processing all those returns cuts into company profits. And then there’s the fraud, abuse and waste that goes along with it. (This includes everything from returning empty boxes, using and abusing items and then requesting returns, and something that I do quite a lot of — it’s called “bracketing,” where you buy two or more sizes of something to try them all on, planning on at least one return.)

It all adds up, and businesses are not in the business of wasting money.

“We’re seeing return figures that are much more than the norm,” said David Sobie, the Santa Monica-based co-founder and CEO of Happy Returns, a third-party business that you’ve probably seen inside places like Ulta. For consumers, it provides returns without a need for printer labels or packing tape. For businesses, this service provides built-in fraud protection.

He said limitations on returns in the form of restocking fees and charges are likely to increase in response to what businesses see as “costly consumer behaviors."

What you can do about it

Sobie said consumers can avoid unpleasant surprises with a little pre-purchase sleuthing:

• Ask about return policy details.
• Consider whether you might be better off checking the item out in person before purchasing.
• Find out about any “fine print” issues regarding return details, fees, or limitations. For example, if you purchase in person, can you return the item by mail?

And of course, hang on to receipts.

“I always say you want to check it out before you check out,” Sobie said.

Sitting in the Oval Office this month, President Donald Trump went on one of his trademark riffs, an aside about vehicles that are popular in Asia but impossible to buy new in the United States.

"They have a very small car. It's sort of like the Beetle used to be with the Volkswagen," he said. "They're very small. They're really cute."

In Japan, these vehicles are known as kei cars. They are, indeed, very small. They are, indisputably, very cute.

"But you're not allowed to build them" in the U.S., Trump went on. "I've authorized the secretary [of transportation] to immediately approve the production of those cars."

A shirt featuring a variety of kei cars was on display during a meeting of the Capital Kei Car Club.

(

Michael Noble Jr. for NPR

)

That news came in the middle of a press conference about the Trump administration relaxing fuel economy rules — a change that will make it easier for Americans to buy more of the big, fuel-guzzling trucks and SUVs that car buyers love.

Trump's endorsement surprised, delighted and somewhat confused American kei car enthusiasts.

It is not actually illegal to build tiny cars for the U.S. auto market. The problem is that kei cars built for foreign countries don't meet U.S. safety standards, so you can't import them unless you're willing to buy an antique. And companies could build tiny cars to U.S. standards, but given the American preference for big vehicles, they simply don't.

"If this is going to be a kick in the right direction to maybe get the domestic auto industry to reconsider cars like this," said Andrew Maxon, a kei car owner and the founder of the Capital Kei Car Club, "I'm all for it. I'll take what we can get."

An antique exemption 

Andrew Maxon, the founder of the Capital Kei Car Club, sits in his Autozam AZ-1.

(

Michael Noble Jr.

/

NPR

)

Kei cars, trucks and vans are very popular in Japan. But while new models might meet Japan's safety standards for things like airbags and seat belts, they're not designed to meet the very specific U.S. requirements.

So they can't be imported and driven in the U.S. unless they're at least 25 years old, which qualifies them as an antique and exempt from federal safety standards. That's why every vehicle at a recent Capital Kei Car Club meetup in Northern Virginia was at least 25.

Drivers raved about their tiny cars — their fun handling, their cute appearance, the delighted responses they get when they drive them around.

Drivers of kei vans and trucks also emphasized that the vehicles are practical. Ryan Douglass replaced his midsize American pickup with a pint-size Japanese one, but while it's shorter than a modern Mini Cooper, it still has a full 6-foot bed, longer than you'll find on a lot of massive trucks these days.

"I can lay down in the bed and not even touch the ends of it," he said. More to the point, he can fit in a sheet of plywood.

Unbeatable prices, with some drawbacks

Car enthusiasts work on a minor repair in the engine bay of a Suzuki Cappuccino.

(

Michael Noble Jr.

/

NPR

)

A new kei car, truck or van can be snagged in Japan for less than $15,000.

And the imported antiques? Douglass paid $8,000 for his truck, which runs great, and he says that was on the expensive end; he paid someone else to manage all the import paperwork.

Mainstream pickups are pricey in the U.S. right now, even when they're used. In November, the average price on Carfax.com was more than $34,000.

Douglass marvels at how much his kei truck saved him.

"I think I could get five or six of these and customize them to my heart's desire and still be cheaper than a brand-new truck that I can buy out of a dealership today," he said.

There are drawbacks, of course. Douglass' license plate warns drivers behind him that his vehicle is, in fact, "VRYSLW."

Ryan Douglass steps out of his Honda Acty.

(

Michael Noble Jr.

/

NPR

)

The snub-nosed front of the vehicle means there's no protective crumple zone in front of the driver. If you crash a kei truck, your knees take the hit directly. And because these vehicles are all antiques, their safety specs are antiquated too.

"I accept the terms and conditions," said Sergey Hall, whose 1992 Suzuki Cappuccino car is even smaller than Douglass' vehicle. "That's the best way to put it. I know that there are no safety features on it. No airbags, ABS [antilock braking system], no throttle position sensors or anything like that."

Safety concerns are why some states ban imported antique kei vehicles, even if federal rules allow them. That frustrates kei car enthusiasts, who note that motorcycles, which are not renowned for safety, are legal on highways.

"What is a 'safe' vehicle?" mused Dan Kobayashi, who drives a Honda Acty kei truck. He noted that a car that's slow and small is safer for pedestrians. And he pointed out that kei cars have great visibility, compared with bigger vehicles with giant hoods and chunky "A pillars" framing the windshield. So unlike the driver of a big SUV, Kobayashi said, "I don't have to worry about hitting kids in front of me, because I can see in front of me."

Still, kei car drivers do have to worry about whether other drivers can see them on American roads, where giant vehicles are moving at high speeds.

Little interest in little cars 

Nevi Bergeron sits behind the wheel in her Suzuki Cappuccino during a meeting of the Capital Kei Car Club.

(

Michael Noble Jr. for NPR

)

In his remarks, Trump said that companies "can't build" little cars in the U.S. and that he'd immediately authorize the production of tiny vehicles.

The thing is, building these vehicles is not actually prohibited in the United States.

Yes, federal safety standards block imports; for the record, the Transportation Department confirmed to NPR that those safety standards are not being waived for small cars. And, yes, some states restrict imported antiques because of safety concerns. So what's stopping automakers from building versions of these cars that do meet U.S. safety standards?

The American shopper.

When companies sold smaller cars in the past, "people didn't want to buy them," says Jessica Caldwell, head of insights at the car data site Edmunds.

"We look at the subcompact car — that is the smallest car sold in the United States. That segment is less than 1% of the market," she says. And it's shrinking, not growing.

Federal fuel economy rules have been criticized for incentivizing larger vehicles. Automakers have another incentive to go big: They make bigger profits on bigger vehicles.

But consumer preferences have also spoken loud and clear. Years ago, Daimler made a push to sell the Smart fortwo, a tiny car by any definition. It was cheap and cute, and it could fit sideways in a parking spot. But it was discontinued in 2019 after about a decade of disappointing sales.

Andrew Maxon walks by his Autozam AZ-1.

(

Michael Noble Jr. for NPR

)

At the Capitol Kei Car Club meetup, I asked everyone there — big fans of tiny cars — whether they think America writ large could learn to love them too. Could small, cheap and slow take off?

"If I had to bet, I would bet against it, unfortunately," Andy Creedon said, summing up the overwhelming consensus.

Kobayashi was more optimistic. His truck is useful, he said. And small vehicles like this are popular in other countries; why not in the U.S.? As he said, a little enviously: "Everybody else in the world has it."
Copyright 2025 NPR

Teamsters Local 2010, which represents trade workers across the Cal State University system, last week approved a strike if negotiations with management continue to stall.

The union says the system has reneged on paying previously agreed upon contractual raises and salary step increases. CSU officials say contingencies in place for those raises to go into effect require new state funding that has not happened.

What is Teamsters Local 2010?

The union represents 27,000 public education employees throughout the state, including the University of California system, Los Angeles Unified and the Cal State University system.

The 1,100 union members who work for the CSU include electricians, elevator mechanics, plumbers, carpenters, locksmiths and other trades workers.

What is each side's position?

In a press statement, the union said that instead of the previously agreed upon terms, the CSU is offering workers “a one-time bonus worth far less than what workers are owed.” Teamsters Local 2010 said it “won back salary steps in 2024 after nearly three decades of stagnation.”

In an email, CSU spokesperson Amy Bentley-Smith described the strike authorization vote as “disappointing” and counterproductive. The current labor agreement between the system and the union, she added, contains “clear contingency provisions language that tied certain salary increases to the receipt of new, unallocated, ongoing state funding. Those contingencies were not met, leading to the current reopener negotiations on salary terms.”

When would a strike start?

Strike authorization votes are “procedural,” Bentley-Smith said, so this “does not mean a strike is imminent.” The CSU, she added, “is hopeful continued negotiations will result in the parties reaching an agreement.”

The union says there is no timeline for when the strike might happen. Some 94% of workers voted to authorize their bargaining team to call a strike, according to a statement released Friday. The move, the union said, gives the CSU a clear sign that "we are strike ready."

Last year, Teamsters Local 2010 was on the verge of striking alongside the system's faculty, but the union reached a last-minute deal with the CSU.

Learn more about CSU's financial picture

• Cal State Dominguez Hills students, faculty rally to save 6 'essential' programs from chopping block
• Cal State wants to offer bigger raises to campus presidents while cutting elsewhere
• Why did the CSU spend millions on ChatGPT amid a budget crisis? We asked school leaders

An immigration judge issues a stern warning: "If you don't show up, there is a good chance the court will order you removed."

She speaks to an immigrant from El Salvador in a quiet immigration courtroom in Hyattsville, Md., in November. Clad in an all-black dress jacket and shirt, the immigrant — who was identified only by the number of his case — swears that his last immigration notice was lost in the mail.

The judge tells him to check his mail regularly, ahead of his next appearance in January.

As the room empties out, the judge says out loud that there are a number of no-shows that day. The Immigration and Customs Enforcement, or ICE, attorney in court files motions to remove five people "in absentia." The judge grants it. Those people can now be deported.

A similar scene has played out, and increasingly so, in nearly every immigration court nationwide over the past year, according to immigration attorneys and NPR's early analysis of court data. The results mirror those of Joseph Gunther, an independent researcher, who has also been tracking the data closely. More immigrants are not showing up for their mandatory immigration court hearings, allowing the government to order their immediate deportation.

"What happened is that the word spread that if you go to court, you could get picked up from ICE," said Ruby Powers, an immigration lawyer based in Texas with cases all over the country.

In 2025, ICE turned to arrests directly from federal or immigration courtrooms in order to meet arrest quotas set by the Trump administration.

"Those instances weren't consistent around the country, but at least the word had spread, the fear had spread. And so individuals were really hesitant to go into court," Powers said.

The number of in absentia removals was generally already on an upward trend each year since 2022, said Andrew Arthur, resident law and policy fellow at the Center for Immigration Studies, a nonprofit that advocates for lower levels of migration. Still, the number of such removal orders in fiscal year 2025 nearly tripled that of the previous year — topping over 50,000.

NPR calculated just how many people were ordered removed "in absentia."

Each of the top 10 cities with the largest number of completed immigration cases in those courts is on track to end the year with a higher rate of in absentia removals than they started. That is according to data from the Executive Office for Immigration Review — part of the Department of Justice — from January through November.

Each of these courts experienced an uptick in this kind of removal order starting in the summer months. That timeline is consistent with when immigration attorneys say ICE officers began arresting people inside the courts.

NPR has spoken with the family members of immigrants who came to court in New York, for example, in place of their parents or partners — out of concern their loved ones might be detained. New York's courts have become notorious this year for scenes of violent arrests and confrontations with federal officers.

Powers said that there are other reasons people may fear coming to court, including that they may not win their case or get deported to a third country. There are logistical barriers, too.

"A lot of times people don't even know that they have a hearing, or hearing dates can change without receiving the notice in the mail," Powers said. Sometimes immigrants can move and addresses are not immediately updated with the court, or go to places like apartment buildings that have less consistent mail delivery, she said. Notices can also be sent to completely incorrect addresses, which lawyers said has been an issue in years past.

Immigration attorneys across the country have noticed an uptick in this kind of removal order. Organizations like the Center for Immigration Studies have also spotted it.

In many cases, the Department of Homeland Security has to receive a removal order issued by an immigration judge before it can physically deport any person from the U.S., Arthur said.

"The more orders of removal in absentia or at the end of proceedings that are issued, the more people that ICE can then target for removal from the United States," he said.

Arthur said that immigrants who fail to appear opt to not take the government up on the offer for due process.

"The more people who are under final orders for removal … the more people who are going to end up in ICE custody because the law requires that ICE take into custody everybody who's under a final order of removal, notwithstanding the administration's stated focus on the worst," Arthur said.

"This appears to be well in excess of those historical trends," Arthur said.

Immigrants may have the opportunity to reopen their cases. However, most people in immigration court do not have legal representation, which they must pay for themselves.

Nonprofits like the organization Mobile Pathways have tracked a low rate of arrests in courts. But immigrant advocates said that doesn't mean the fear and negative perceptions go away.

"It probably falls into the narrative that the administration wants to be portrayed, that these individuals are not participating in the process that they're supposed to," Powers said, about the rise in no-show removal orders.

Some families she represents have fled violence, are working through trauma, or are navigating language and other barriers in addition to the immigration law system.

"[They] are just making the best decisions they can with the information they have provided to them," Powers said, adding that most immigrants are still showing up for their court appointments. "It's just because a lot of things are being stacked up against them. And that's why we're seeing these numbers."
Copyright 2025 NPR