Pesticides are a known contributor to asthma and are commonly used where Bejarano lives in California’s Imperial Valley, a landlocked region that straddles two counties on the U.S.-Mexico border and is one of the main producers of the nation’s winter crops. It also has some of the worst air pollution in the nation and one of the highest rates of childhood asthma emergency room visits in the state, according to data collected by the California Department of Public Health.

Bejarano has since learned to manage her now-19-year-old son’s asthma and works at Comite Civico del Valle, a local rights organization focused on environmental justice in the Imperial Valley. The organization trains health care workers to educate patients on proper asthma management, enabling them to avoid hospitalization and eliminate triggers at home. The course is so popular that there’s a waiting list, Bejarano said.

But the group’s Asthma Management Academy program and similar initiatives nationwide face extinction with the Trump administration’s mass layoffs, grant cancellations, and proposed budget cuts at the Department of Health and Human Services and the Environmental Protection Agency. Asthma experts fear the cumulative impact of the reductions could result in more ER visits and deaths, particularly for children and people in low-income communities — populations disproportionately vulnerable to the disease.

“Asthma is a preventive condition,” Bejarano said. “No one should die of asthma.”

Asthma can block airways, making it hard to breathe, and in severe cases can cause death if not treated quickly. Nearly 28 million people in the U.S. have asthma, and about 10 people still die every day from the disease, according to the Asthma and Allergy Foundation of America.

In May, the White House released a budget proposal that would permanently shutter the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention’s National Asthma Control Program, which was already gutted by federal health department layoffs in April. It’s unclear whether Congress will approve the closure.

Last year, the program allotted $33.5 million to state-administered initiatives in 27 states, Puerto Rico, and Washington, D.C., to help communities with asthma education. The funding is distributed in four-year grant cycles, during which the programs receive up to $725,000 each annually.

Comite Civico del Valle’s academy in Southern California, a clinician workshop in Houston, and asthma medical management training in Allentown, Pennsylvania — ranked the most challenging U.S. city to live in with asthma — are among the programs largely surviving on these grants. The first year of the current grant cycle ends Aug. 31, and it’s unknown whether funding will continue beyond then.

Data suggests that the CDC’s National Asthma Control Program has had a significant impact. The agency’s own research has shown that the program saves $71 in health care costs for every $1 invested. And the asthma death rate decreased 44% between the 1999 launch of the program and 2021, according to the American Lung Association.

“Losing support from the CDC will have devastating impacts on asthma programs in states and communities across the country, programs that we know are improving the lives of millions of people with asthma,” said Anne Kelsey Lamb, director of the Public Health Institute’s Regional Asthma Management and Prevention program. “And the thing is that we know a lot about what works to help people keep their asthma well controlled, and that’s why it’s so devastating.”

The Trump administration cited cost savings and efficiency in its April announcement of the cuts to HHS. Requests for comment from the White House and CDC about cuts to federal asthma and related programs were not answered.

The Information Wars

Fresno, in the heart of California’s Central Valley, is one of the country’s top 20 “asthma capitals,” with high rates of asthma and related emergencies and deaths. It’s home to programs that receive funding through the National Asthma Control Program. Health care professionals there also rely on another aspect of the program that is under threat if it’s shuttered: countrywide data.

The federal asthma program collects information on asthma rates and offers a tool to study prevalence and rates of death from the disease, see what populations are most affected, and assess state and local trends. Asthma educators and health care providers worry that the loss of these numbers could be the biggest impact of the cuts, because it would mean a dearth of information crucial to forming educated recommendations and treatment plans.

“How do we justify the services we provide if the data isn’t there?” said Graciela Anaya, director of community health at the Central California Asthma Collaborative in Fresno.

Mitchell Grayson, chair of the Asthma and Allergy Foundation’s Medical Scientific Council, is similarly concerned.

“My fear is we’re going to live in a world that is frozen in Jan. 19, 2025, as far as data, because that was the last time you know that this information was safely collected,” he said.

Grayson, an allergist who practices in Columbus, Ohio, said he also worries government websites will delete important recommendations that asthma sufferers avoid heavy air pollution, get annual flu shots, and get covid-19 vaccines.

Disproportionate Risk

Asthma disproportionately affects communities of color because of “historic structural issues,” said Lynda Mitchell, CEO of the Asthma and Allergy Network, citing a higher likelihood of living in public housing or near highways and other pollution sources.

She and other experts in the field said cuts to diversity initiatives across federal agencies, combined with the rollback of environmental protections, will have an outsize impact on these at-risk populations.

In December, the Biden administration awarded nearly $1.6 billion through the EPA’s Community Change Grants program to help disadvantaged communities address pollution and climate threats. The Trump administration moved to cut this funding in March. The grant freezes, which have been temporarily blocked by the courts, are part of a broader effort by the Trump EPA to eliminate aid to environmental justice programs across the agency.

In 2023 and 2024, the National Institutes of Health’s Climate Change and Health Initiative received $40 million for research, including on the link between asthma and climate change. The Trump administration has moved to cut that money. And a March memo essentially halted all NIH grants focused on diversity, equity, and inclusion, or DEI — funds many of the asthma programs serving low-income communities rely on to operate.

On top of those cuts, environmental advocates like Isabel González Whitaker of Memphis, Tennessee, worry that the proposed reversals of environmental regulations will further harm the health of communities like hers that are already reeling from the effects of climate change. Shelby County, home to Memphis, recently received an “F” on the American Lung Association’s annual report card for having so many high ozone days. González Whitaker is director of EcoMadres, a program within the national organization Moms for Clean Air that advocates for better environmental conditions for Latino communities.

“Urgent asthma needs in communities are getting defunded at a time when I just see things getting worse in terms of deregulation,” said González Whitaker, who took her 12-year-old son to the hospital because of breathing issues for the first time this year. “We’re being assaulted by this data and science, which is clearly stating that we need to be doing better around preserving the regulations.”

Back in California’s Imperial Valley — where the majority-Hispanic, working-class population surrounds California’s largest lake, the Salton Sea — is an area called Bombay Beach. Bejarano calls it the “forgotten community.” Homes there lack clean running water, because of naturally occurring arsenic in the groundwater, and residents frequently experience a smell like rotten eggs blowing off the drying lakebed, exposing decades of pesticide-tinged dirt.

In 2022, a 12-year-old girl died in Bombay Beach after an asthma attack. Bejarano said she later learned that the girl’s school had recommended that she take part in Comite Civico del Valle’s at-home asthma education program. She said the girl was on the waiting list when she died.

“It hit home. Her death showed the personal need we have here in Imperial County,” Bejarano said. “Deaths are preventable. Asthma is reversible. If you have asthma, you should be able to live a healthy life.”

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Es que el hospital donde se atendía, Winner Regional Health, se ha sumado recientemente al cada vez mayor número de centros de salud rurales que cierran sus unidades de maternidad.

“Ahora va a ser mucho más estresante y complicado para las mujeres recibir la atención médica que necesitan, porque tienen que ir mucho más lejos”, dijo Hofeldt, que tiene fecha de parto de su primer hijo el 10 de junio.

Hofeldt agregó que los viajes más largos suponen más gasto en gasolina y un mayor riesgo de no llegar a tiempo al hospital. “Mi principal preocupación es tener que parir en un auto”, afirma.

Más de un centenar de hospitales rurales han dejado de atender partos desde 2021, según el Center for Healthcare Quality and Payment Reform, una organización sin fines de lucro. El cierre de los servicios de obstetricia se suele achacar a la falta de personal y la falta de presupuesto.

En la actualidad, alrededor del 58% de los condados de Dakota del Sur no cuentan con salas de parto. Es la segunda tasa más alta del país, después de Dakota del Norte, según March of Dimes, una organización que asiste a las madres y sus bebés.

Además, el Departamento de Salud de Dakota del Sur informó que las mujeres embarazadas y los bebés del estado — especialmente las afroamericanas y las nativas americanas— presentan tasas más altas de complicaciones y mortalidad.

Winner Regional Health atiende a comunidades rurales en Dakota del Sur y Nebraska, incluyendo parte de la reserva indígena Rosebud Sioux. El año pasado nacieron allí 107 bebés, una baja considerable respecto de los 158 que nacieron en 2021, contó su director ejecutivo, Brian Williams.

Los hospitales más cercanos con servicios de maternidad se encuentran en pueblos rurales a una hora de distancia, o más, de Winner.

Sin embargo, varias mujeres afirmaron que el trayecto en coche hasta esos centros las llevaría por zonas donde no hay señal de celular confiable, lo que podría suponer un problema si tuvieran una emergencia en el camino.

KFF Health News habló con cinco pacientes de la zona de Winner que tenían previsto que su parto fuera en el Avera St. Mary’s Hospital de Pierre, a unas 90 millas de Winner, o en uno de los grandes centros médicos de Sioux Falls, a 170 millas de distancia.

Hofeldt y su novio conducen cada tres semanas para ir a las citas prenatales en el hospital de Pierre, que brinda servicios a la pequeña capital y a la vasta zona rural circundante.

A medida que se acerque la fecha del parto, las citas de control y, por lo tanto los viajes, tendrán que ser semanales. Ninguno de los dos tiene un empleo que le brinde permiso con goce de sueldo para ese tipo de consulta médica.

“Cuando necesitamos ir a Pierre, tenemos que tomarnos casi todo el día libre”, explicó Hofeldt, que nació en el hospital de Winner.

Eso significa perder una parte del salario y gastar dinero extra en el viaje. Además, no todo el mundo tiene auto ni dinero para la gasolina, y los servicios de autobús son escasos en las zonas rurales del país.

Algunas mujeres también tienen que pagar el cuidado de sus otros hijos para poder ir al médico cuando el hospital está lejos. Y, cuando nace el bebé, tal vez tengan que asumir el costo de un hotel para los familiares.

Amy Lueking, la médica que atiende a Hofeldt en Pierre, dijo que cuando las pacientes no pueden superar estas barreras, los obstetras tienen la opción de darles dispositivos para monitorear el embarazo en el hogar y ofrecerles consulta por teléfono o videoconferencia.

Las pacientes también pueden hacerse los controles prenatales en un hospital o una clínica local y, más tarde, ponerse en contacto con un profesional de un hospital donde se practiquen partos, dijo Lueking.

Sin embargo, algunas zonas rurales no tienen acceso a la telesalud. Y algunas pacientes, como Hofeldt, no quieren dividir su atención, establecer relaciones con dos médicos y ocuparse de cuestiones logísticas como transferir historias clínicas.

Durante una cita reciente, Lueking deslizó un dispositivo de ultrasonido sobre el útero de Hofeldt. El ritmo de los latidos del corazón del feto resonó en el monitor.

“Creo que es el mejor sonido del mundo”, expresó Lueking.

Hofeldt le comentó que quería un parto lo más natural posible.

Pero lograr que el parto se desarrolle según lo planeado suele ser complicado para quienes viven en zonas rurales, lejos del hospital. Para estar seguras de que llegarán a tiempo, algunas mujeres optan por programar una inducción, un procedimiento en el que los médicos utilizan medicamentos u otras técnicas para provocar el trabajo de parto.

Katie Larson vive en un rancho cerca de Winner, en la localidad de Hamill, que tiene 14 habitantes. Esperaba evitar que le indujeran el parto.

Larson quería esperar a que las contracciones comenzaran de forma natural y luego conducir hasta el Avera St. Mary’s, en Pierre.

Pero terminó programando una inducción para el 13 de abril, su fecha probable de parto. Más tarde, la adelantó al 8 de abril para no perderse una venta de ganado muy importante, que ella y su esposo estaban preparando.

“La gente se verá obligada a elegir una fecha de inducción aunque no sea lo que en un principio hubiera elegido. Si no, correrá el riesgo de tener al bebé en la carretera”, afirmó.

Lueking aseguró que no es frecuente que las embarazadas den a luz mientras se dirigen al hospital en automóvil o en ambulancia. Pero también recordó que el año anterior cinco mujeres que tenían previsto tener a sus hijos en Pierre acabaron haciéndolo en las salas de emergencias de otros hospitales, porque el parto avanzó muy rápido o porque las condiciones del clima hicieron demasiado peligroso conducir largas distancias.

Nanette Eagle Star tenía previsto que su bebé naciera en el hospital de Winner, a cinco minutos de su casa, hasta que el hospital anunció que cerraría su unidad de maternidad. Entonces decidió dar a luz en Sioux Falls, porque su familia podía quedarse con unos familiares que vivían allí y así ahorrar dinero.

El plan de Eagle Star volvió a cambiar cuando comenzó el trabajo de parto prematuramente y el clima se puso demasiado peligroso para manejar o para tomar un helicóptero médico a Sioux Falls.

“Todo ocurrió muy rápido, en medio de una tormenta de nieve”, contó.

Finalmente, Eagle Star tuvo a su bebé en el hospital de Winner, pero en la sala de emergencias, sin epidural, ya que en ese momento no había ningún anestesista disponible. Esto ocurrió  solo tres días después del cierre de la unidad de maternidad.

El fin de los servicios de parto y maternidad en el Winner Regional Health no es solo un problema de salud, según las mujeres de la localidad. También tiene repercusiones emocionales y económicas en la comunidad.

Eagle Star recuerda con cariño cuando era niña e iba con sus hermanas a las citas médicas. Apenas llegaban, iban a un pasillo que tenía fotos de bebés pegadas en la pared y comenzaban una “búsqueda del tesoro” para encontrar polaroids de ellas mismas y de sus familiares.

“A ambos lados del pasillo estaba lleno de fotos de bebés”, contó Eagle Star. Recuerda pensar: “Mira todos estos bebés tan lindos que han nacido aquí, en Winner”.

Hofeldt contó que muchos lugareños están tristes porque sus bebés no nacerán en el mismo hospital que ellos.

Anora Henderson, médica de familia, señaló que la falta de una correcta atención a las mujeres embarazadas puede tener consecuencias negativas para sus hijos. Esos bebés pueden desarrollar problemas de salud que requerirán cuidados de por vida, a menudo costosos, y otras ayudas públicas.

“Hay un efecto negativo en la comunidad”, dijo. “Simplemente no es tan visible y se notará bastante más adelante”.

Henderson renunció en mayo a su puesto en el Winner Regional Health, donde asistía partos vaginales y ayudaba en las cesáreas. El último bebé al que recibió fue el de Eagle Star.

Para que un centro de salud sea designado como hospital con servicio de maternidad, debe contar con instalaciones donde se pueden efectuar cesáreas y proporcionar anestesia las 24 horas del día, los 7 días de la semana, explicó Henderson.

Williams, el director ejecutivo del hospital, dijo que el Winner Regional Health no ha podido contratar suficientes profesionales médicos con formación en esas especializaciones.

En los últimos años, el hospital solo había podido ofrecer servicios de maternidad cubriendo aproximadamente $1,2 millones anuales en salarios de médicos contratados de forma temporal, señaló. Pero el hospital ya no podía seguir asumiendo ese gasto.

Otro reto financiero está dado porque muchos partos en los hospitales rurales están cubiertos por Medicaid, el programa federal y estatal que ofrece atención a personas con bajos ingresos o discapacidades.

El programa suele pagar aproximadamente la mitad de lo que pagan las aseguradoras privadas por los servicios de parto, según un informe de 2022 de la U.S. Government Accountability Office (GAO).

Williams contó que alrededor del 80% de los partos en Winner Regional Health estaban cubiertos por Medicaid.

Las unidades obstétricas suelen constituir el mayor gasto financiero de los hospitales rurales y, por lo tanto, son las primeras que se cierran cuando un centro de salud atraviesa dificultades económicas, explica el informe de la GAO.

Williams dijo que el hospital sigue prestando atención prenatal y que le encantaría reanudar los partos si pudiera contratar suficiente personal.

Henderson, la médica que dimitió del hospital de Winner, ha sido testigo del declive de la atención materna en las zonas rurales durante décadas.

Recuerda que, antes de que naciera su hermana, acompañaba a su madre a las citas médicas. En cada viaje, su madre recorría unas 100 millas después de que el hospital de la ciudad de Kadoka cerrara en 1979.

Henderson trabajó durante casi 22 años en el Winner Regional Health, lo que permitió que muchas mujeres no tuvieran que desplazarse para dar a luz, como le ocurrió a su madre.

A lo largo de los años, atendió a nuevas pacientes cuando cerraron las unidades de maternidad de un hospital rural cercano y luego las de un centro del Servicio de Salud Indígena. Finalmente, el propio hospital de Henderson dejó de atender partos.

“Lo que ahora realmente me frustra es que pensaba que iba a dedicarme a la medicina familiar y trabajar en una zona rural, y que así íbamos a solucionar estos problemas, para que las personas no tuvieran que conducir 100 millas para tener un bebé”, se lamentó.

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If they couldn’t reach an agreement, he’d have to find new doctors or new health insurance.

“All my medical information is with Baylor Scott & White,” said Neary, 87, who retired from a career in financial services. His doctors are a five-minute drive from his house. “After so many years, starting over with that many new doctor relationships didn’t feel like an option.”

After several anxious weeks, Neary learned Humana and Baylor were parting ways as of this year, and he was forced to choose between the two. Because the breakup happened during the annual fall enrollment period for Medicare Advantage, he was able to pick a new Advantage plan with coverage starting Jan. 1, a day after his Humana plan ended.

Other Advantage members who lose providers are not as lucky. Although disputes between health systems and insurers happen all the time, members are usually locked into their plans for the year and restricted to a network of providers, even if that network shrinks. Unless members qualify for what’s called a special enrollment period, switching plans or returning to traditional Medicare is allowed only at year’s end, with new coverage starting in January.

But in the past 15 months, the Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services, which oversees the Medicare Advantage program, has quietly offered roughly three-month special enrollment periods allowing thousands of Advantage members in at least 13 states to change plans. They were also allowed to leave Advantage plans entirely and choose traditional Medicare coverage without penalty, regardless of when they lost their providers. But even when CMS lets Advantage members leave a plan that lost a key provider, insurers can still enroll new members without telling them the network has shrunk.

At least 41 hospital systems have dropped out of 62 Advantage plans serving all or parts of 25 states since July, according to Becker’s Hospital Review. Over the past two years, separations between Advantage plans and health systems have tripled, said FTI Consulting, which tracks reports of the disputes.

CMS spokesperson Catherine Howden said it is “a routine occurrence” for the agency to determine that provider network changes trigger a special enrollment period for their members. “It has happened many times in the past, though we have seen an uptick in recent years.”

Still, CMS would not identify plans whose members were allowed to disenroll after losing health providers. The agency also would not say whether the plans violated federal provider network rules intended to ensure that Medicare Advantage members have sufficient providers within certain distances and travel times.

The secrecy around when and how Advantage members can escape plans after their doctors and hospitals drop out worries Sen. Ron Wyden of Oregon, the senior Democrat on the Senate Finance Committee, which oversees CMS.

“Seniors enrolled in Medicare Advantage plans deserve to know they can change their plan when their local doctor or hospital exits the plan due to profit-driven business practices,” Wyden said.

The increase in insurer-provider breakups isn’t surprising, given the growing popularity of Medicare Advantage. The plans attracted about 54% of the 61.2 million people who had both Medicare Parts A and B and were eligible to sign up for Medicare Advantage in 2024, according to KFF, a health information nonprofit that includes KFF Health News.

The plans can offer supplemental benefits unavailable from traditional Medicare because the federal government pays insurers about 20% more per member than traditional Medicare per-member costs, according to the Medicare Payment Advisory Commission, which advises Congress. The extra spending, which some lawmakers call wasteful, will total about $84 billion in 2025, MedPAC estimates. While traditional Medicare does not offer the additional benefits Advantage plans advertise, it does not limit beneficiaries’ choice of providers. They can go to any doctor or hospital that accepts Medicare, as nearly all do.

Sanford Health, the largest rural health system in the U.S., serving parts of seven states from South Dakota to Michigan, decided to leave a Humana Medicare Advantage plan last year that covered 15,000 of its patients. “It’s not so much about the finances or administrative burden, although those are real concerns,” said Nick Olson, Sanford Health’s chief financial officer. “The most important thing for us is the fact that coverage denials and prior authorization delays impact the care a patient receives, and that’s unacceptable.”

The National Association of Insurance Commissioners, representing insurance regulators from every state, Puerto Rico, and the District of Columbia, has appealed to CMS to help Advantage members.

“State regulators in several states are seeing hospitals and crucial provider groups making decisions to no longer contract with any MA plans, which can leave enrollees without ready access to care,” the group wrote in September. “Lack of CMS guidance could result in unnecessary financial or medical injury to America’s seniors.”

The commissioners appealed again last month to Health and Human Services Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr. “Significant network changes trigger important rights for beneficiaries, and they should receive clear notice of their rights and have access to counseling to help them make appropriate choices,” they wrote.

The insurance commissioners asked CMS to consider offering a special enrollment period for all Advantage members who lose the same major provider, instead of placing the burden on individuals to find help on their own. No matter what time of year, members would be able to change plans or enroll in government-run Medicare.

Advantage members granted this special enrollment period who choose traditional Medicare get a bonus: If they want to purchase a Medigap policy — supplemental insurance that helps cover Medicare’s considerable out-of-pocket costs — insurers can’t turn them away or charge them more because of preexisting health conditions.

Those potential extra costs have long been a deterrent for people who want to leave Medicare Advantage for traditional Medicare.

“People are being trapped in Medicare Advantage because they can’t get a Medigap plan,” said Bonnie Burns, a training and policy specialist at California Health Advocates, a nonprofit watchdog that helps seniors navigate Medicare.

Guaranteed access to Medigap coverage is especially important when providers drop out of all Advantage plans. Only four states — Connecticut, Massachusetts, Maine, and New York — offer that guarantee to anyone who wants to reenroll in Medicare.

But some hospital systems, including Great Plains Health in North Platte, Nebraska, are so frustrated by Advantage plans that they won’t participate in any of them.

It had the same problems with delays and denials of coverage as other providers, but one incident stands out for CEO Ivan Mitchell: A patient too sick to go home had to stay in the hospital an extra six weeks because her plan wouldn’t cover care in a rehabilitation facility.

With traditional Medicare the only option this year for Great Plains Health patients, Nebraska insurance commissioner Eric Dunning asked for a special enrollment period with guaranteed Medigap access for some 1,200 beneficiaries. After six months, CMS agreed.

Once Delaware’s insurance commissioner contacted CMS about the Bayhealth medical system dropping out of a Cigna Advantage plan, members received a special enrollment period starting in January.

Maine’s congressional delegation pushed for an enrollment period for nearly 4,000 patients of Northern Light Health after the 10-hospital system dropped out of a Humana Advantage plan last year.

“Our constituents have told us that they are anticipating serious challenges, ranging from worries about substantial changes to cost-sharing rates to concerns about maintaining care with current providers,” the delegation told CMS.

CMS granted the request to ensure “that MA enrollees have access to medically necessary care,” then-CMS Administrator Chiquita Brooks-LaSure wrote to Sen. Angus King (I-Maine).

Minnesota insurance officials appealed to CMS on behalf of some 75,000 members of Aetna, Humana, and UnitedHealthcare Advantage plans after six health systems announced last year they would leave the plans in 2025. So many provider changes caused “tremendous problems,” said Kelli Jo Greiner, director of the Minnesota State Health Insurance Assistance Program, known as a SHIP, at the Minnesota Board on Aging. SHIP counselors across the country provide Medicare beneficiaries free help choosing and using Medicare drug and Advantage plans.

Providers serving about 15,000 of Minnesota’s Advantage members ultimately agreed to stay in the insurers’ networks. CMS decided 14,000 Humana members qualified for a network-change special enrollment period.

The remaining 46,000 people — Aetna and UnitedHealthcare Advantage members — who lost access to four health systems were not eligible for the special enrollment period. CMS decided their plans still had enough other providers to care for them.

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A KFF Health News analysis underscores that the terminations are sparing no part of the country, politically or geographically. About 40% of organizations whose grants the NIH cut in its first month of slashing, which started Feb. 28, are in states Trump won in November.

The Trump administration has singled out Ivy League universities including Columbia and Harvard for broad federal funding cuts. But the spending reductions at the NIH, the nation’s foremost source of funding for biomedical research, go much further: Of about 220 organizations that had grants terminated, at least 94 were public universities, including flagship state schools in places such as Florida, Georgia, Ohio, Nebraska, and Texas.

The Trump administration has canceled hundreds of grants supporting research on topics such as vaccination; diversity, equity, and inclusion; and the health of LGBTQ+ populations. Some of the terminations are a result of Trump’s executive orders to abandon federal work on diversity and equity issues. Others followed the Senate confirmation of anti-vaccine activist Robert F. Kennedy Jr. to lead the Department of Health and Human Services, which oversees the NIH. Many mirror the ambitions laid out in Project 2025’s “Mandate for Leadership,” the conservative playbook for Trump’s second term.

Affected researchers say Trump administration officials are taking a cudgel to efforts to improve the lives of people who often experience worse health outcomes — ignoring a scientific reality that diseases and other conditions do not affect all Americans equally.

KFF Health News found that the NIH terminated about 780 grants or parts of grants between Feb. 28 and March 28, based on documents published by the Department of Health and Human Services and a list maintained by academic researchers. Some grants were canceled in full, while in other cases, only supplements — extra funding related to the main grant, usually for a shorter-term, related project — were terminated.

Among U.S. recipients, 96 of the institutions that lost grants in the first month are in politically conservative states including Florida, Ohio, and Indiana, where Republicans control the state government or voters reliably support the GOP in presidential campaigns, or in purple states such as North Carolina, Michigan, and Pennsylvania that were presidential battleground states. An additional 124 institutions are in blue states.

Sybil Hosek, a research professor at the University of Illinois-Chicago, helps run a network that focuses on improving care for people 13 to 24 years old who are living with or at risk for HIV. The NIH awarded Florida State University $73 million to lead the HIV project.

“We never thought they would destroy an entire network dedicated to young Americans,” said Hosek, one of the principal investigators of the Adolescent Medicine Trials Network for HIV/AIDS Interventions. The termination “doesn’t make sense to us.”

NIH official Michelle Bulls is director of the Office of Policy for Extramural Research Administration, which oversees grants policy and compliance across NIH institutes. In terminating the grant March 21, Bulls wrote that research “based primarily on artificial and nonscientific categories, including amorphous equity objectives, are antithetical to the scientific inquiry, do nothing to expand our knowledge of living systems, provide low returns on investment, and ultimately do not enhance health, lengthen life, or reduce illness.”

Adolescents and young adults ages 13 to 24 accounted for 1 in 5 new HIV infections in the U.S. in 2022, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.

“It’s science in its highest form,” said Lisa Hightow-Weidman, a professor at Florida State University who co-leads the network. “I don’t think we can make America healthy again if we leave youth behind.”

HHS spokesperson Emily Hilliard said in an emailed statement that “NIH is taking action to terminate research funding that is not aligned with NIH and HHS priorities.” The NIH and the White House didn’t respond to requests for comment.

“As we begin to Make America Healthy Again, it's important to prioritize research that directly affects the health of Americans. We will leave no stone unturned in identifying the root causes of the chronic disease epidemic as part of our mission to Make America Healthy Again,” Hilliard said.

Harm to HIV, Vaccine Studies

The NIH, with its nearly $48 billion annual budget, is the largest public funder of biomedical research in the world, awarding nearly 59,000 grants in the 2023 fiscal year. The Trump administration has upended funding for projects that were already underway, stymied money for new applications, and sought to reduce how much recipients can spend on overhead expenses.

Those changes — plus the firing of 1,200 agency employees as part of mass layoffs across the government — are alarming scientists and NIH workers, who warn that they will undermine progress in combating diseases and other threats to the nation’s public health. On April 2, the American Public Health Association, Ibis Reproductive Health, and affected researchers, among others, filed a lawsuit in federal court against the NIH and HHS to halt the grant cancellations.

Two National Cancer Institute employees, who were granted anonymity because they were not authorized to speak to the press and feared retaliation, said its staff receives batches of grants to terminate almost daily. On Feb. 27, the cancer institute had more than 10,800 active projects, the highest share of the NIH’s roughly two dozen institutes and centers, according to the NIH’s website. At least 47 grants that NCI awarded were terminated in the first month.

Kennedy has said the NIH should take a years-long pause from funding infectious disease research. In November 2023, he told an anti-vaccine group, “I’m gonna say to NIH scientists, ‘God bless you all. Thank you for public service. We’re going to give infectious disease a break for about eight years,’” according to NBC News.

For years, Kennedy has peddled falsehoods about vaccines — including that “no vaccine” is “safe and effective,” and that “there are other studies out there” showing a connection between vaccines and autism, a link that has repeatedly been debunked — and claimed falsely that HIV is not the only cause of AIDS.

KFF Health News found that grants in blue states were disproportionately affected, making up roughly two-thirds of terminated grants, many of them at Columbia University. The university had more grants terminated than all organizations in politically red states combined. On April 4, Democratic attorneys general in 16 states sued HHS and the NIH to block the agency from canceling funds.

Researchers whose funding was stripped said they stopped clinical trials and other work on improving care for people with HIV, reducing vaping and smoking rates among LGBTQ+ teens and young adults, and increasing vaccination rates for young children. NIH grants routinely span several years.

For example, Hosek said that when the youth HIV/AIDS network’s funding was terminated, she and her colleagues were preparing to launch a clinical trial examining whether a particular antibiotic that is effective for men to prevent sexually transmitted infections would also work for women.

“This is a critically important health initiative focused on young women in the United States,” she said. “Without that study, women don’t have access to something that men have.”

Other scientists said they were testing how to improve health outcomes among newborns in rural areas with genetic abnormalities, or researching how to improve flu vaccination rates among Black children, who are more likely to be hospitalized and die from the virus than non-Hispanic white children.

“It's important for people to know that — if, you know, they are wondering if this is just a waste of time and money. No, no. It was a beautiful and rare thing that we did,” said Joshua Williams, a pediatric primary care doctor at Denver Health in Colorado who was researching whether sharing stories about harm experienced due to vaccine-preventable diseases — from missed birthdays to hospitalizations and job loss — might inspire caregivers to get their children vaccinated against the flu.

He and his colleagues had recruited 200 families, assembled a community advisory board to understand which vaccinations were top priorities, created short videos with people who had experienced vaccine-preventable illness, and texted those videos to half of the caregivers participating in the study.

They were just about to crack open the medical records and see if it had worked: Were the group who received the videos more likely to follow through on vaccinations for their children? That’s when he got the notice from the NIH.

“It is the policy of NIH not to prioritize research activities that focuses gaining scientific knowledge on why individuals are hesitant to be vaccinated and/or explore ways to improve vaccine interest and commitment,” the notice read.

Williams said the work was already having an impact as other institutions were using the idea to start projects related to cancer and dialysis.

A Hit to Rural Health

Congress previously tried to ensure that NIH grants also went to states that historically have had less success obtaining biomedical research funding from the government. Now those places aren’t immune to the NIH’s terminations.

Sophia Newcomer, an associate professor of public health at the University of Montana, said she had 18 months of work left on a study examining undervaccination among infants, which means they were late in receiving recommended childhood vaccines or didn’t receive the vaccines at all. Newcomer had been analyzing 10 years of CDC data about children’s vaccinations and had already found that most U.S. infants from 0 to 19 months old were not adequately vaccinated.

Her grant was terminated March 10, with the NIH letter stating the project “no longer effectuates agency priorities,” a phrase replicated in other termination letters KFF Health News has reviewed.

“States like Montana don’t get a lot of funding for health research, and health researchers in rural areas of the country are working on solutions to improve rural health care,” Newcomer said. “And so cuts like this really have an impact on the work we’re able to do.”

Montana is one of 23 states, along with Puerto Rico, that are eligible for the NIH’s Institutional Development Award program, meant to bolster NIH funding in states that historically have received less investment. Congress established the program in 1993.

The NIH’s grant terminations hit institutions in 15 of those states, more than half that qualify, plus Puerto Rico.

Researchers Can’t ‘Just Do It Again Later’

The NIH’s research funds are deeply entrenched in the U.S. health care system and academia. Rarely does an awarded grant stay within the four walls of a university that received it. One grant’s money is divvied up among other universities, hospitals, community nonprofits, and other government agencies, researchers said.

Erin Kahle, an infectious disease epidemiologist at the University of Michigan, said she was working with Emory University in Georgia and the CDC as part of her study. She was researching the impact of intimate partner violence on HIV treatment among men living with the virus. “They are relying on our funds, too,” she said.

Kahle said her top priority was to ethically and safely wind down her nationwide study, which included 418 people, half of whom were still participating when her grant was terminated in late March. Kahle said that includes providing resources to participants for whom sharing experiences of intimate partner violence may cause trauma or mental health distress.

Rachel Hess, the co-director of the Clinical & Translational Science Institute at the University of Utah, said the University of Nevada-Reno and Intermountain Health, one of the largest hospital systems in the West, had received funds from a $38 million grant that was awarded to the University of Utah and was terminated March 12.

The institute, which aims to make scientific research more efficient to speed up the availability of treatments for patients, supported over 5,000 projects last year, including 550 clinical trials with 7,000 participants. Hess said that, for example, the institute was helping design a multisite study involving people who have had heart attacks to figure out the ideal mix of medications “to keep them alive” before they get to the hospital, a challenge that’s more acute in rural communities.

After pushback from the university — the institute’s projects included work to reduce health care disparities between rural and urban areas — the NIH restored its grant March 29.

Among the people the Utah center thanked in its announcement about the reversal were the state’s congressional delegation, which consists entirely of Republican lawmakers. “We are grateful to University of Utah leadership, the University of Utah Board of Trustees, our legislative delegation, and the Utah community for their support,” it said.

Hilliard, of HHS, said that “some grants have been reinstated following the appeals process, and the agency will continue to carry out the remaining appeals as planned to determine their alignment.” She declined to say how many had been reinstated, or why the University of Utah grant was among them.

Other researchers haven’t had the same luck. Kahle, in Michigan, said projects like hers can take a dozen years from start to finish — applying for and receiving NIH funds, conducting the research, and completing follow-up work.

“Even if there are changes in the next administration, we’re looking at at least a decade of setting back the research,” Kahle said. “It’s not as easy as like, ‘OK, we’ll just do it again later.’ It doesn’t really work that way.”

Methodology

KFF Health News analyzed National Institutes of Health grant data to determine the states and organizations most affected by the Trump administration’s cuts.

We tallied the number of terminated NIH grants using two sources: a Department of Health and Human Services list of terminated grants published April 4; and a crowdsourced list maintained by Noam Ross of rOpenSci and Scott Delaney of the Harvard T.H. Chan School of Public Health, as of April 8. We focused on the first month of terminations: from Feb. 28 to March 28. We found that 780 awards were terminated in total, with 770 of them going to recipients based in U.S. states and two to recipients in Puerto Rico.

The analysis does not account for potential grant reinstatements, which we know happened in at least one instance.

Additional information on the recipients, such as location and business type, came from the USAspending.gov Award Data Archive.

There were 222 U.S. recipients in total. At least 94 of them were public higher education institutions. Forty-one percent of organizations that had NIH grants cut in the first month were in states that President Donald Trump won in the 2024 election.

Some recipients, including the University of Texas MD Anderson Cancer Center and Vanderbilt University Medical Center, are medical facilities associated with higher education institutions. We classified these as hospitals/medical centers.

We also wanted to see whether the grant cuts affected states across the political spectrum. We generally classified states as blue if Democrats control the state government or Democratic candidates won them in the last three presidential elections, and red if they followed this pattern but for Republicans. Purple states are generally presidential battleground states or those where voters regularly split their support between the two parties: Arizona, Michigan, Nevada, New Hampshire, North Carolina, Pennsylvania, Virginia, and Wisconsin. The result was 25 red states, 17 blue states, and eight purple states. The District of Columbia was also blue.

We found that, of affected U.S. institutions, 96 were in red or purple states and 124 were in blue states.

KFF Health News is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues and is one of the core operating programs at KFF—an independent source of health policy research, polling, and journalism. Learn more about KFF.

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This story can be republished for free (details).

Along the way, she learned about her own family’s history with such trauma.

This formed the multimedia “Silence in Sikeston” project from KFF Health News, Retro Report, and WORLD as told through a documentary film, educational videos, digital articles, and a limited-series podcast. Hear about Anthony’s journey and join this conversation about the toll of racialized violence on our health and our communities.

Explore more of the “Silence in Sikeston”project:

LISTEN: The limited-series podcast is available on PRX, Apple Podcasts, Spotify, iHeart, or wherever you get your podcasts.

• Episode 1: “Racism Can Make You Sick”
• Episode 2: “Hush, Fix Your Face”
• Episode 3: “Trauma Lives in the Body”
• Episode 4: “Is There a Cure for Racism”

WATCH: The documentary film “Silence in Sikeston,” a co-production of KFF Health News and Retro Report, is now available to stream on WORLD’s YouTube channel, WORLDchannel.org, and the PBS app.

READ: KFF Health News Midwest correspondent Cara Anthony wrote an essay about what her reporting for this project helped her learn about her own family’s hidden past.

KFF Health News is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues and is one of the core operating programs at KFF—an independent source of health policy research, polling, and journalism. Learn more about KFF.

USE OUR CONTENT

This story can be republished for free (details).

In the series finale of the podcast, a confident, outspoken Sikeston teenager shares her feelings in an uncommonly frank conversation with Chief James McMillen, head of Sikeston’s Department of Public Safety, which includes Sikeston police. 

Host Cara Anthony asks what kind of systemic change is possible to reduce the burden of racism on the health of Black Americans. Health equity expert Gail Christopher says it starts with institutional leaders who recognize the problem, measure it, and take concrete steps to change things. 

“It is a process, and it’s not enough to march and get a victory,” Christopher said. “We have to transform the systems of inequity in this country.” 

Host

Cara Anthony
Midwest correspondent, KFF Health News

@CaraRAnthony

Read Cara's stories

Cara is an Edward R. Murrow and National Association of Black Journalists award-winning reporter from East St. Louis, Illinois. Her work has appeared in The New York Times, Time magazine, NPR, and other outlets nationwide. Her reporting trip to the Missouri Bootheel in August 2020 launched the “Silence in Sikeston” project. She is a producer on the documentary and the podcast’s host.

In Conversation With …

Gail Christopher
Public health leader and health equity expert 

click to open the transcript

Transcript: Is There a Cure for Racism?

Editor’s note: If you are able, we encourage you to listen to the audio of “Silence in Sikeston,” which includes emotion and emphasis not found in the transcript. This transcript, generated using transcription software, has been edited for style and clarity. Please use the transcript as a tool but check the corresponding audio before quoting the podcast. 

[Ambient sounds from Sikeston, Missouri’s 2021 Juneteenth celebration — a DJ making an announcement over funky music, people chatting — begin playing.] 

Cara Anthony: It’s 2021. It’s hot and humid. We’re at a park in the heart of Sunset — Sikeston, Missouri’s historically Black neighborhood. 

Emory: Today is Juneteenth, baby. 

Cara Anthony: The basketball courts are jumping. And old-school funk is blaring from the speakers. Kids are playing. 

Cara Anthony: [Laughter] Are you enjoying the water?  

Cara Anthony: People are lining up for barbecue. 

I’ve been here reporting on the toll racism and violence can take on a community’s health. But today, I’m hoping to capture a little bit of Sikeston’s joy.  

Taneshia Pulley: When I look out to the crowd of my people, I see strength. I see power. I just see all magic. 

Cara Anthony: I drift over to a tent where people are getting their blood pressure, weight, and height checked … health screenings for free. 

Cara Anthony: I’m a journalist. 

Community Health Worker: Ooooh! Hi! Hi! 

Cara Anthony: The ladies working the booth are excited I’m there to report on the event. 

Cara Anthony: OK, and I’m a health journalist. 

Community health worker: Baby, that’s what I told them. Yeah, she healthy. [Laughter] 

[Dramatic instrumental music plays.] 

Cara Anthony: This Juneteenth gathering is happening a little over a year after Sikeston police officers shot and killed 23-year-old Denzel Taylor. 

We made a documentary about Denzel’s death and the death of another young Black man — also killed in Sikeston. 

Denzel was shot by police. Nearly 80 years earlier, Cleo Wright was lynched by a white mob. 

Both were killed before they got their day in court. 

In these years of reporting, what I’ve found is that many Black families worry that their kids don’t have an equal chance of growing up healthy and safe in Sikeston. 

[Dramatic instrumental ends.] 

Rosemary Owens: Being Black in the Bootheel can get you killed at any age. 

Cara Anthony: That’s Rosemary Owens. She raised her children here in Southeast Missouri. 

Cara Anthony: About 10 Sikeston police officers showed up to Juneteenth — for security and to connect with the community. Some are in uniform; some are in plain clothes. 

Rosemary has her doubts about why they came today. 

Cara Anthony: You see the police chief talking to people. What’s going through your mind as you see them milling about? 

Rosemary Owens: I hope they are real and wanting to close the gap between the African Americans and the white people. 

Anybody can come out and shake hands. But at the end of the day, did you mean what you said? Because things are still going on here in Sikeston, Missouri. 

Cara Anthony: For Rosemary, this brings to mind an encounter with the police from years ago. 

[Slow, minor, instrumental music plays softly.] 

When her son was maybe 16 years old, she says, she and her sister gave their boys the keys to their new cars — told them they could hang out in them. 

Rosemary had gotten her new car for Mother’s Day. 

Rosemary Owens: A brand-new red Dodge Caravan. We, we knew the boys were just going from the van to the car. You know, just showing out — they were boys. They weren’t driving. 

Cara Anthony: Someone nearby saw the boys …  

Rosemary Owens: … called and told the police that two Black men were robbing cars. 

 When the boys saw the police come up, there was three police cars. So they were like, something’s going on. So their intention, they were like, they were trying to run to us. And my brother said, stop. When they looked back, when the police got out of the car, they already had their guns drawn on my son and my nephew.  Cara Anthony: That’s what Rosemary thinks about when she sees Sikeston police at Juneteenth. 

[Slow, minor, instrumental music ends.] 

[“Silence in Sikeston” theme song plays.]  Cara Anthony: In this podcast series, we’ve talked about some of the ways racism makes Black people sick. But Juneteenth has me thinking about how we get free — how we STOP racism from making us sick. 

The public health experts say it’s going to take systemwide, institutional change. 

In this episode, we’re going to examine what that community-level change looks like — or at least what it looks like to make a start. 

From WORLD Channel and KFF Health News, distributed by PRX, this is “Silence in Sikeston.” 

Episode 4 is our final episode: “Is There a Cure for Racism?” 

[“Silence in Sikeston” theme song ends.] 

James McMillen: How you doing? 

Juneteenth celebration attendee: Good. Good.  

James McMillen: Good to see you, man.  

Juneteenth celebration attendee: What’s up? How are you?   

Cara Anthony: When I spot Sikeston’s director of public safety in his cowboy hat, sipping soda from a can, I head over to talk.  James McMillen: Well, you know, I just, I, I’m glad to be … on the inside of this. 

Cara Anthony: James McMillen leads the police department. He says he made it a point to come to Juneteenth. And he encouraged his officers to come, too. 

James McMillen: I remember as being a young officer coming to work here, not knowing anybody, driving by a park and seeing several Black people out there. And I remember feeling, you know, somewhat intimidated by that. And I don’t really know why. 

I hadn’t always been, um, that active in the community. And, um, I, I have been the last several years and I’m just wanting to teach officers to do the same thing. 

Cara Anthony: The chief told me showing up was part of his department’s efforts to repair relations with Sikeston’s Black residents. 

James McMillen: What’s important about this is, being out here and actually knowing people, I think it builds that trust that we need to have to prevent and solve crimes. 

Cara Anthony: A few minutes into our conversation, I notice a teenager and her friend nearby, listening. 

Cara Anthony: Yeah, we have two people who are watching us pretty closely. Come over here. Come over here. Tell us your names. 

Lauren: My name is Lauren. 

Michaiahes: My name is Michaiahes. 

Cara Anthony: Yeah. And what are you all … ? 

James McMillen: I saw you over there. 

Cara Anthony: So, what do you think about all of this?  

Michaiahes: Personally, I don’t even know who this is because I don’t mess with police because, because of what’s happened in the past with the police. But, um … 

Cara Anthony: As she starts to trail off, I encourage her to keep going. 

Cara Anthony: He’s right here. He’s in charge of all of those people. 

Michaiahes: Well, in my opinion, y’all should start caring about the community more. 

Cara Anthony: What are you hearing? She’s speaking from the heart here, Chief. What are you hearing? 

James McMillen: Well, you know what? I agree with everything she said there. 

Cara Anthony: She’s confident now, looking the chief in the eye. 

Michaiahes: And let’s just be honest: Some of these police officers don’t even want to be here today. They’re just here to think they’re doing something for the community. 

James McMillen: Let’s be honest. Some of these are assumptions that y’all are making about police that y’all don’t really know. 

[Subtle propulsive music begins playing.] 

Michaiahes: If we seen you protecting community, if we seen you doing what you supposed to do, then we wouldn’t have these assumptions about you. 

James McMillen: I just want to say that people are individuals. We have supervisors that try to keep them to hold a standard. And you shouldn’t judge the whole department, but, but just don’t judge the whole department off of a few. No more than I should judge the whole community off of a few. 

Cara Anthony: But here’s the thing … in our conversations over the years, Chief McMillen has been candid with me about how, as a rookie cop, he had judged Sikeston’s Black residents based on interactions with just a few. 

James McMillen: Some of, um, my first calls in the Black community were dealing with, obviously, criminals, you know? So if first impressions mean anything, that one set a bad one. I had, um, really unfairly judging the whole community based on the few interactions that I had, again, with majority of criminals. 

Cara Anthony: The chief says he’s moved past that way of thinking and he’s trying to help his officers move past their assumptions. 

And he told me about other things he wants to do …  

Hire more Black officers. Invest in racial-bias awareness education for the department. And open up more lines of communication with the community. 

James McMillen: I know that we are not going to see progress or we’re not going to see success without a little bit of pain and discomfort on our part. 

Cara Anthony: I don’t think I’ve ever heard the chief use the term institutional change, but the promises and the plans he’s making sound like steps in that direction. 

Except … here’s something else the chief says he wants …  

[Subtle propulsive music ends with a flourish.] 

James McMillen: As a police officer, I would like to hear more people talk about, um, just complying with the officer. 

Cara Anthony: That phrase is chilling to me. 

[Quiet, dark music starts playing.] 

When I hear “just comply” … a litany of names cross my mind. 

Philando Castile. 

Sonya Massey. 

Tyre Nichols. 

Cara Anthony: After Denzel Taylor was killed, people felt unsafe. I talked to a lot of residents on the record about them feeling like they didn’t know if they could be next. 

One thing that you told me was, like, well, one thing that people can do is comply with the officers, you know, if they find themselves having an interaction with law enforcement. 

James McMillen: Well, I mean, I think that’s, that’s a good idea to do. 

And if the person is not complying, that officer has got to be thinking, is this person trying to hurt me? So, asking people to comply with the officer’s command — that’s a reasonable statement. 

Cara Anthony: But, it’s well documented: Black Americans are more likely than our white peers to be perceived as dangerous by police. 

That perception increases the chances we’ll be the victim of deadly force. Whether we comply — or not. 

[Quiet, dark music ends.] 

That’s all to say … even with the promise of more Black officers in Sikeston and all the chief’s other plans, I’m not sure institutional change in policing is coming soon to Sikeston. 

[Sparse electronic music starts playing.] 

Cara Anthony: I took that worry to Gail Christopher. She has spent her long career trying to address the causes of institutional racism. 

Cara Anthony: We’ve been calling most of our guests by their first name, but what’s your preference? I don’t want to get in trouble with my mom on this, you know? [Cara laughs.] 

Gail Christopher: If you don’t mind, Dr. Christopher is good. 

Cara Anthony: OK. All right. That sounds good. I’m glad I asked. 

Cara Anthony: Dr. Christopher thinks a lot about the connections between race and health. And she’s executive director of the National Collaborative for Health Equity. Her nonprofit designs strategies for social change. 

She says the way to think about starting to fix structural racism … is to think about the future. 

Gail Christopher: What do you want for your daughter? What do I want for my children? I want them not to have interactions with the police, No. 1, right? 

Uh, so I want them to have safe places to be, to play, to be educated … equal access to the opportunity to be healthy. 

Cara Anthony: But I wonder if that future is even possible. 

[Sparse electronic music ends.] 

Cara Anthony: Is there a cure for racism? And I know it’s not that simple, but is there a cure? 

Gail Christopher: I love the question, right? And my answer to you would be yes. It is a process, and it’s not enough to march and get a victory. We have to transform the systems of inequity in this country. 

Cara Anthony: And Dr. Christopher says it is possible. Because racism is a belief system. 

[Hopeful instrumental music plays.] 

Gail Christopher: There is a methodology that’s grounded in psychological research and social science for altering our beliefs and subsequently altering our behaviors that are driven by those beliefs. 

Cara Anthony: To get there, she says, institutions need a rigorous commitment to look closely at what they are doing — and the outcomes they’re creating. 

Gail Christopher: Data tracking and monitoring and being accountable for what’s going on. 

We can’t solve a problem if we don’t admit that it exists. 

Cara Anthony: One of her favorite examples of what it looks like to make a start toward systemic change comes from the health care world. 

I know we’ve been talking about policing so far, but — bear with me here — we’re going to pivot to another way institutional bias kills people. 

A few years ago, a team of researchers at the Brigham and Women’s Hospital in Boston reviewed admission records for patients with heart failure. They found that Black and Latinx people were less likely than white patients to be admitted to specialized cardiology units. 

Gail Christopher: Without calling people racist, they saw the absolute data that showed that, wait a minute, we’re sending the white people to get the specialty care and we’re not sending the people of color. 

Cara Anthony: So, Brigham and Women’s launched a pilot program. 

When a doctor requests a bed for a Black or Latinx patient with heart failure, the computer system notifies them that, historically, Black and Latinx patients haven’t had equal access to specialty care. 

The computer system then recommends the patient be admitted to the cardiology unit. It’s still up to the doctor to actually do that. 

The hard data’s not published yet, but we checked in with the hospital, and they say the program seems to be making a difference. 

Gail Christopher: It starts with leadership. Someone in that system has the authority and makes the decision to hold themselves accountable for new results. 

[Hopeful instrumental music ends.] 

Cara Anthony: OK, so it could be working at a hospital. Let’s shift back to policing now. 

Gail Christopher: There should be an accountability board in that community, a citizens’ accountability board, where they are setting measurable and achievable goals and they are holding that police department accountable for achieving those goals. 

Cara Anthony: But, like, do Black people have to participate in this? Because we’re tired. 

Gail Christopher: Listen, do I know that we’re tired! Am I tired? After 50 years? Uh, I think that there is work that all people have to do. This business of learning to see ourselves in one another, to be fully human — it’s all of our work. 

[Warm, optimistic instrumental music plays.] 

Now, does that preclude checking out at times and taking care of yourself? I can’t tell you how many people my age who are no longer alive today, who were my colleagues and friends in the movement. But they died prematurely because of this lack of permission to take care of ourselves. 

Cara Anthony: Rest when you need to, she says, but keep going. 

Gail Christopher: We have to do that because it is our injury. It is our pain. And I think we have the stamina and the desire to see it change. 

Cara Anthony: Yep. Heard. It’s all of our work. 

Dr. Christopher has me thinking about all the Black people in Sikeston who aren’t sitting around waiting for someone else to change the institutions that are hurting them. 

People protested when Denzel Taylor was killed even with all the pressure to stay quiet about it. 

Protesters: Justice for Denzel on 3. 1, 2, 3 … Justice for Denzel! Again! 1, 2, 3 …  Justice for Denzel! 

Cara Anthony: And I’m thinking about the people who were living in the Sunset neighborhood of Sikeston in 1942 when Cleo Wright was lynched. 

Harry Howard: They picked up rocks and bricks and crowbars and just anything to protect our community. 

Cara Anthony: And Sunset did not burn. 

[Warm, optimistic instrumental music begins fading out.] 

[Piano starts warming up.] 

Cara Anthony: After nearly 80 years of mostly staying quiet about Cleo’s lynching, Sikeston residents organized a service to mark what happened to him — and their community. 

Reverend: We are so honored and humbled to be the host church this evening for the remembrance and reconciliation service of Mr. Cleo Wright. 

[Piano plays along with Pershard singing.] 

Pershard Owens: [Singing] It’s been a long, long time coming, but I know a change gonna come, oh yes it will. It’s been too hard a-livin but I’m afraid to die and I don’t know what’s up next, beyond the sky … 

[Pershard singing and piano accompaniment fade out.] 

Cara Anthony: I want to introduce you to that guy who was just singing then. His name is Pershard Owens. 

Remember Rosemary Owens? The woman who told us about someone calling the police on her son and nephew when they were playing with their parents’ new cars? Pershard is Rosemary’s younger son. 

Pershard Owens: Yeah, I definitely remember that. 

Cara Anthony: Even after all this time, other people didn’t want to talk to us about it. We couldn’t find news coverage of the incident. But Pershard remembers. He was in his weekly karate practice when it happened. He was 10 or 11 years old. 

Pershard Owens: My brother and cousin were, like, they were teens. So what do you think people are going to feel about the police when they do that, no questions asked, just guns drawn? 

Cara Anthony: Pershard’s dad works as a police officer on a different police force in the Bootheel. Pershard knows police. But that didn’t make it any less scary for him. 

Pershard Owens: You know, my parents still had to sit us down and talk and be like, “Hey, this is, that’s not OK, but you can’t, you can’t be a victim. You can’t be upset.” That’s how I was taught. So we acknowledge the past. But we don’t, we don’t stay down. 

Cara Anthony: So years later, when Chief James McMillen started a program as a more formal way for people in Sikeston and the police to build better relationships, Pershard signed up. They started meeting in 2020. 

The group is called Police and Community Together, or PACT for short. 

  [Sparse, tentative music begins playing.] 

Pershard Owens: It was a little tense that first couple of meetings because nobody knew what it was going to be. 

Cara Anthony: This was only five months after Sikeston police killed Denzel Taylor. 

PACT is not a citizens’ accountability board. The police don’t have to answer to it. 

The committee met every month. For a while. But they haven’t met in over a year now. 

Pershard Owens: We would have steps forward and then we would have three steps back. 

Cara Anthony: People have different accounts for why that is. Busy schedules. Mutual suspicion. Other things police officers have done that shook the trust of Black residents in Sikeston. 

Pershard Owens: And people were like, bro, like, how can you work with these people? 

The community is like, I can’t fully get behind it because I know what you did to my little cousin and them. Like, I know what the department did back in, you know, 15 years ago, and it’s hard to get past that. 

So, I mean, I’m getting both sides, like, constantly, and listen, that is, that is tough. 

[Sparse, tentative music ends.] 

Cara Anthony: But Pershard says something important changed because he started working with PACT. 

Pershard Owens: Chief did not like me at first [Pershard laughs]. He did not. 

Chief didn’t … me and Chief did not see eye to eye. Because he had heard things about me and he — people had told him that I was, I was anti-police and hated police officers, and he came in with a defense up. 

So, it took a minute for me and him to, like, start seeing each other in a different way. But it all happened when we sat down and had a conversation. 

[Slow instrumental music begins playing.] 

Cara Anthony: Just have a conversation. It sounds so simple; you’re probably rolling your eyes right now hearing it. 

But Pershard says … it could be meaningful. 

Pershard Owens: I truly want and believe that we can be together and we can work together and we can have a positive relationship where you see police and y’all dap each other up and y’all legit mean it. I think that can happen, but a lot of people have to change their mindsets. 

Cara Anthony: That’s a challenge Pershard is offering to police AND community members: Have a conversation with someone different from you. See if that changes the way you think about the person you’re talking to. See if it changes your beliefs. 

The more people do that, the more systems can change. 

Pershard Owens: We got to look in the mirror and say, “Am I doing what I can to try and change the dynamic of Sikeston, even if it does hurt?” 

Cara Anthony: Pershard says he’s going to keep putting himself out there. He ran for City Council in 2021. And even though he lost, he says he doesn’t regret it. 

Pershard Owens: When you’re dealing with a place like Sikeston, it’s not going to change overnight. 

Cara Anthony: And he’s glad he worked with PACT. Even if the community dialogue has fizzled for now, he’s pleased with the new relationship he built with Chief McMillen. And all of this has broadened his view of what kind of change is possible. 

[Slow instrumental music ends.] 

Pershard Owens: If you want something that has never been done, you have to go places that you’ve never been. 

[“Silence in Sikeston” theme music plays.] 

Cara Anthony: Places that you’ve never been … stories that you’ve never told out loud … maybe all of that helps build a Sikeston where Black residents can feel safer. Where Black people can live healthier lives. 

A world you might not be able to imagine yet, but one that could exist for the next generation. 

[“Silence in Sikeston” theme music ends.] 

[Upbeat instrumental music plays.] 

Cara Anthony: Thanks for listening to “Silence in Sikeston.” 

Next, go watch the documentary — it’s a joint production from Retro Report and KFF Health News, presented in partnership with WORLD. 

Subscribe to WORLD Channel on YouTube. That’s where you can find the film “Silence in Sikeston,” a Local, USA special. 

If you made it this far, thank you. Let me know how you’re feeling. 

I’d love to hear more about the conversations this podcast has sparked in your life. Leave us a voicemail at (202) 654-1366. 

And thanks to everyone in Sikeston for sharing your stories with us. 

This podcast is a co-production of WORLD Channel and KFF Health News and distributed by PRX. 

It was produced with support from PRX and made possible in part by a grant from the John S. and James L. Knight Foundation. 

This audio series was reported and hosted by me, Cara Anthony. 

Audio production by me, Zach Dyer. And me, Taylor Cook. 

Editing by me, Simone Popperl. 

And me, managing editor Taunya English. 

Sound design, mixing, and original music by me, Lonnie Ro. 

Podcast art design by Colin Mahoney and Tania Castro-Daunais. 

Tarena Lofton and Hannah Norman are engagement and social media producers for the show. 

Oona Zenda and Lydia Zuraw are the landing page designers. 

Lynne Shallcross is the photo editor, with photography from Michael B. Thomas. 

Thank you to vocal coach Viki Merrick. 

And thank you to my parents for all their support over the four years of this project. 

Music in this episode is from Epidemic Sound and Blue Dot Sessions. 

Some of the audio you heard across the podcast is also in the film. 

For that, special thanks to Adam Zletz, Matt Gettemeier, Roger Herr, and Philip Geyelin. 

Kyra Darnton is executive producer at Retro Report. 

I was a producer on the film. 

Jill Rosenbaum directed the documentary. 

Kytja Weir is national editor at KFF Health News. 

WORLD Channel’s editor-in-chief and executive producer is Chris Hastings. 

Help us get the word out about “Silence in Sikeston.” Write a review or give us a quick rating wherever you listen to this podcast. 

Thank you! It makes a difference. 

Oh yeah! And tell your friends in real life too!  

[Upbeat instrumental music ends.] 

Credits

Taunya English
Managing editor

@TaunyaEnglish

Taunya is deputy managing editor for broadcast at KFF Health News, where she leads enterprise audio projects.

Simone Popperl
Line editor

@simoneppprl

Simone is broadcast editor at KFF Health News, where she shapes stories that air on Marketplace, NPR, and CBS News Radio, and she co-manages a national reporting collaborative.

Zach Dyer
Senior producer

@zkdyer

Zach is senior producer for audio with KFF Health News, where he supervises all levels of podcast production.

Taylor Cook
Associate producer

@taylormcook7

Taylor is an independent producer who does research, books guests, contributes writing, and fact-checks episodes for several KFF Health News podcasts.

Lonnie Ro
Sound designer

@lonnielibrary

Lonnie Ro is an audio engineer and a composer who brings audio stories to life through original music and expert sound design for platforms like Spotify, Audible, and KFF Health News.

Additional Newsroom Support

Lynne Shallcross, photo editorOona Zenda, illustrator and web producerLydia Zuraw, web producerTarena Lofton, audience engagement producer Hannah Norman, video producer and visual reporter Chaseedaw Giles, audience engagement editor and digital strategistKytja Weir, national editor Mary Agnes Carey, managing editor Alex Wayne, executive editorDavid Rousseau, publisher Terry Byrne, copy chief Gabe Brison-Trezise, deputy copy chief Tammie Smith, communications officer 

The “Silence in Sikeston” podcast is a production of KFF Health News and WORLD. Distributed by PRX. Subscribe and listen on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, Amazon Music, iHeart, or wherever you get your podcasts.

Watch the accompanying documentary from WORLD, Retro Report, and KFF here.

To hear other KFF Health News podcasts, click here.

KFF Health News is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues and is one of the core operating programs at KFF—an independent source of health policy research, polling, and journalism. Learn more about KFF.

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SIKESTON, Mo. — In 1942, Mable Cook was a teenager. She was standing on her front porch when she witnessed the lynching of Cleo Wright.

In the aftermath, Cook received advice from her father that was intended to keep her safe.

“He didn’t want us talking about it,” Cook said. “He told us to forget it.”

More than 80 years later, residents of Sikeston still find it difficult to talk about the lynching.

Conversations with Cook, one of the few remaining witnesses of the lynching, launch a discussion of the health consequences of racism and violence in the United States. Host Cara Anthony speaks with historian Eddie R. Cole and racial equity scholar Keisha Bentley-Edwards about the physical, mental, and emotional burdens on Sikeston residents and Black Americans in general.

“Oftentimes, people who experience racial trauma are forced to not acknowledge it,” Bentley-Edwards said. “They’re forced to question whether or not it happened in the first place.”

Host

Cara Anthony
Midwest correspondent, KFF Health News

@CaraRAnthony

Read Cara's stories

Cara is an Edward R. Murrow and National Association of Black Journalists award-winning reporter from East St. Louis, Illinois. Her work has appeared in The New York Times, Time magazine, NPR, and other outlets nationwide. Her reporting trip to the Missouri Bootheel in August 2020 launched the “Silence in Sikeston” project. She is a producer on the documentary and the podcast’s host.

In Conversation With …

Eddie R. Cole
Professor of education and history, UCLA

Keisha Bentley-Edwards
Associate professor of medicine, Division of General Internal Medicine at Duke University

Carol Anderson
Professor of African American studies, Emory University

click to open the transcript

Transcript: Racism Can Make You Sick

“Silence in Sikeston,” Episode 1: “Racism Can Make You Sick” Transcript 

Editor’s note: If you are able, we encourage you to listen to the audio of “Silence in Sikeston,” which includes emotion and emphasis not found in the transcript. This transcript, generated using transcription software, has been edited for style and clarity. Please use the transcript as a tool but check the corresponding audio before quoting the podcast. 

Cara Anthony: Sikeston sits in the Missouri Bootheel. That’s the lower corner of the state, with the Mississippi River on one side, Arkansas on the other. Lots of people say it’s where the South meets the Midwest. 

Picture cotton, soybeans, rice. It’s hot, green, and flat. If you’ve ever heard of Sikeston before, it’s probably because of this: 

Ryan Skinner: Hot rolls! 

Cara Anthony: Lambert’s Café. Home of the “Throwed Rolls.” 

Server: Yeah, they’ll say, uh, “Hot rolls!” And people will hold their hands up and they’ll toss it to you. 

Cara Anthony: The servers walk around with carts and throw these big dinner rolls at diners. 

Ryan Skinner: Oh, it’s fun. You get to nail people in the head and not get in trouble for it. 

Cara Anthony: There’s the rodeo. The cotton carnival. 

But I came to see Rhonda Council. 

Rhonda Council: My name is Rhonda Council. I was born and raised here in Sikeston. 

Cara Anthony: Rhonda is the town’s first Black city clerk. 

She became my guide. I met her when I came here to make a film about the little-known history of racial violence in Sikeston. 

I’m Cara Anthony. I’m a health reporter. I cover the ways racism — including violence — affects health. 

Rhonda grew up in the shadow of that violence — in a part of town where nearly everyone was Black. It’s called Sunset. 

Rhonda Council: Sunset was a happy place. I remember just being, as a kid, we could walk down to the store, we could just go get candy. 

Cara Anthony: There were churches and a school there. 

Rhonda Council: We knew everybody in the community. If we did something wrong, you can best believe your parents was going to find out about it before you got home. 

Cara Anthony: Back in the day, these were dirt roads. 

Cara Anthony: OK, so we’re getting ready to go on a tour of Sunset, which used to be known as the Sunset Addition, right? 

Rhonda Council: Mm-hmm, yes. Mm-hmm. 

Cara Anthony: We got into her car, along with Rhonda’s mother and her grandmother, Mable Cook. 

Rhonda Council: This street was known as The Bottom. Everything Black-owned. They had clubs, they had stores, they even had houses that people stayed in. I think it was shotgun houses back then? 

Mable Cook: Uh-huh. 

Cara Anthony: That’s Rhonda’s grandmother, Ms. Mable, right there. She was a teenager here in the 1940s. Her memory of the place seems to get stronger with each uh-huh and mm-hmm. 

Rhonda Council: And this was just the place where people went on the weekend to, you know, have a good time and party. … And this area was kind of known as “the corner” because they used to have a club here. And they would … they would gamble a lot down here. They would throw dice. Everything down here on the corner. 

Mable Cook: That’s right. Sure did. Mm-hmm. 

Rhonda Council: You remember this street, Grandma? 

Mable Cook: Yeah, I’m trying to see where the store used to be. 

Rhonda Council: OK. 

Mable Cook: I think it was close to Smith Chapel. 

Rhonda Council: OK. 

Cara Anthony: Rhonda’s grandmother, Ms. Mable, was 97 then. 

Rhonda Council: She is a petite lady, to me, thin-framed. I describe her eyes as like a grayish-color eyes. And I don’t know if it’s because of old age, but I think they’re so beautiful. And she just has a pretty smile, and she’s just a fantastic lady. 

Cara Anthony: Ms. Mable was born in Indianola, Mississippi. When she was 14, her father moved to Sikeston looking for work. 

Rhonda Council: And so she came up here to, um, to be with her father. But she said when she came to Sikeston, she said it was an unusual experience because they were not allowed to go to stores. They were not allowed to, basically, be with the white people. And that’s not what she knew down in Mississippi. And in her mind, she couldn’t understand why Missouri, why Sikeston was like that in treating Black people that way. 

And not too long after that, the lynching of Cleo Wright occurred. 

[BEAT]  

Cara Anthony: It was 1942. While the United States was at war marching to stop fascism, a white mob here went unchecked and lynched a man named Cleo Wright. 

The lynching of a Black man in America was not uncommon. And often barely documented. 

But in the case of Cleo Wright — perhaps because the death challenged what the nation said it was fighting for — the killing in this small town made national news. 

The case generated enough attention that the FBI conducted the first federal investigation into a lynching. That investigation ultimately amounted to nothing. 

Meanwhile — here in Sikeston — the response to the brutal death was mostly silence. 

Eight decades later, another Black man was killed in Sikeston. This time by police. 

Local media outlets, like KFVS, covered it as a crime story: 

KFVS report: The Missouri State Highway Patrol says troopers must piece together exactly what led to the shooting death of 22-year-old Denzel Marshall Taylor. 

Cara Anthony: I think the killings of Denzel Taylor and Cleo Wright are a public health story. 

Our film “Silence in Sikeston” is grounded in my reporting about Cleo and Denzel. Part of the record of the community’s trauma and silence is captured in the film. This podcast extends that conversation. 

We’re exploring what it means to live with that stress — of racism, of violence. And we’re going to talk about the toll that it takes on our health as Black Americans, especially as we try to stay safe. 

In each episode, we’ll hear a story from my reporting. Then, a guest and I will talk about it. 

The history … 

Carol Anderson: The power of lynching is to terrorize the Black community, and one of the ways the community deals with that terror is the silence of it. […] And when you don’t deal with the wound, it creates all kinds of damage. 

Cara Anthony: And health … 

Aiesha Lee: It’s almost like every time we’re silent, it’s like a little pinprick. […] And after so long, those little pinpricks turn up as heart disease, as cancer, as all these other ailments. 

Cara Anthony: I’m hoping this journalism, and these stories, will spark a conversation that you’ve been meaning to have. 

This is an invitation. 

From WORLD Channel and KFF Health News and distributed by PRX, this is “Silence in Sikeston,” the podcast.  

Episode 1: “Racism Can Make You Sick” 

[BEAT] 

Cara Anthony: Ms. Mable was a witness to the lynching of Cleo Wright. The 25-year-old was about to become a father. 

Rhonda’s uncle says Cleo was … 

Harry Howard: Young, handsome, an athlete, and very well known in the community. 

Cara Anthony: That’s Harry Howard. He didn’t know Cleo. Harry wasn’t even born yet. But his uncle knew Cleo. 

Harry Howard: They were friends. They would shoot pool together and were known to be at the little corner store, the Scott’s Grocery. 

Cara Anthony: Harry’s family passed down the story of what happened. 

Harry Howard: So everything I’m reporting is the way it was told by people I trust. 

Cara Anthony: Black families mostly talked about it in whispers. 

Eddie R. Cole: And that sounds like this is one of those situations where that community would rather just leave this alone and try to move on with the life that you do have instead of losing more life. 

Cara Anthony: That’s my friend Eddie Cole. He’s a professor of history and education at UCLA. 

We were in college together at Tennessee State and worked on the school newspaper.  

I called up Eddie because I wanted to get his take as a historian. What happens when we keep quiet about a story like Cleo’s? 

Eddie R. Cole: Yeah, I’m Eddie Cole. … So here we go. 

Cara Anthony: Thousands of Black people were lynched before Cleo Wright was. But this was the first time the feds said, “Hey, we should go to Sikeston and investigate lynching as a federal crime.” 

This story though, seriously, like it just disappeared off the face of the map. Like, it’s, it’s scary to me. So many of the witnesses that I interviewed, they’ve passed away, Eddie, since we started this journey. And it’s frightening to me to think that their stories … that these stories can literally just go away. 

[BEAT]  

Eddie R. Cole: Lynching stories disappear but don’t disappear, right? So, the people who committed the crime, they committed it and went on with their day, which is twisted within itself, even to think about that. 

But on the other side, when you think about Black Americans, there was no need to talk a lot about it, right? Because you talk too much about some things and that same sort of militia justice might come to your front door in the middle of the night, right? Stories like this are known but not recorded. 

Cara Anthony: The hush that surrounded Cleo’s story back then was for Black people’s safety. But I’m conflicted. Should Cleo’s story be off the table? Or … could we be missing an opportunity for healing? 

On the phone with Eddie, I could feel this anxiety building up in me. I was almost afraid to bring it up, even though it was the reason why I called. 

[BEAT]  

Cara Anthony: And I will be honest with you, I think of you the same way I think of my brother, my father, like, I’ve almost wanted to protect the Black men in my life from that story because I know how hard it is to hear. 

Cara Anthony: It was January 1942. Cleo was accused of assaulting a white woman. A police officer arrested him; there was a fight. Cleo was beaten and shot. Covered in blood, he was eventually taken to jail. White residents of Sikeston mobbed the jail to get to Cleo. 

Cara Anthony: I do want to play a clip for you, just so you can hear a little bit, if you are up for that, because it’s a lot. How are you feeling about that today? 

Eddie R. Cole: No, I want to hear. I mean, I gotta know more now. You just told me there’s a story that just disappeared, but now you’re bringing it back to life. So let’s play the clip. 

Cara Anthony: All right. Let’s do it. 

Harry Howard: They took him out of the jail and drug him from downtown on Center Street through the Black area of Sunset. 

Obviously, it was a big commotion, and they were saying, “What’s going on?” And the man driving the station wagon told them, “Get out of the street,” and, of course, used the N-word. “There’s a lynching coming.” 

Cara Anthony: Historian Carol Anderson is a professor of African American studies at Emory University. She takes it from there. 

Carol Anderson: They hook him to the bumper of the car and decide to make an example of him in the Black community. 

The mob douses his body with five gallons of gasoline and set it on fire. People are going, “Oh my God, they are burning a Black man. They are burning a Black man. They have lynched a Black man.” 

Cara Anthony: I always need to take a deep breath after hearing that story. So, I check in with Eddie. 

Cara Anthony: OK. How you doing? You OK? 

Eddie R. Cole: Yeah, yeah, um, that was tough. 

Cara Anthony: I’ve grappled a lot with the question of why, like, why now? Why this story? Am I crazy for doing this? 

Eddie R. Cole: Yeah, I mean, this story is really an entry point to talk about society at large. Imagine the people who like the world that we’re in. A world where Black people are oppressed. Right? And so not telling stories like what happens in Sikeston is an easier way to just keep the status quo. And what you’re doing is pushing back on it and saying, ah, we must remember, because the remnants of this period still shape this town today. 

[BEAT]  

Cara Anthony: On the tour of Sikeston with Rhonda, I see that. 

Rhonda Council: We’re going to go in front of the church where Cleo Wright was burned. 

When we get down here to the right, you’ll see Smith Chapel Church. And wasn’t it over here in this way where he got burnt, Grandma? 

Mable Cook: Uh-huh, yep. 

Rhonda Council: OK. From what I hear, it happened right along in this area right here. 

Cara Anthony: It’s a small brick church with a steeple on top. The road is paved now, not gravel as before. It all looks so … normal. 

You’d think that kind of violence, so much hate, would leave a mark on the Earth. But on the day we visited, there was nothing to see. Just the church and the road. 

Ms. Mable is quiet. I wonder what she’s thinking. 

Mable Cook: I just remember them dragging him. They drove him from, uh, the police station out to Sunset Addition. But they took him around all the streets so everybody could see. 

Cara Anthony: Back at Rhonda’s home, we talked more about what Ms. Mable remembered. 

Rhonda Council: Did that affect you in any way when you saw that happening? 

Mable Cook: Yeah, it hurt because I never had seen anything like that. Mm-hmm. And it kind of got me. I was just surprised or something. I don’t know. Mm-hmm. 

Cara Anthony: Remember Ms. Mable had been a child in Mississippi in the ’30s — and it wasn’t until she moved north to Sikeston that she came face to face with a lynching. 

Rhonda Council: Did it stick in your mind after that for a long time? 

Mable Cook: Yeah, it did. It did stick because I just wondered why they wanted to do that to him. You know, they could have just taken him and put him in jail or something and not do all that to him. 

I just never had seen anything like it. I had heard people talking about it, but I had never seen anything like that. 

Cara Anthony: When it happened, a lot of Black families in Sikeston scattered, fled town to places that felt safer. Mable’s family returned to Mississippi for a week. 

But when they got back, she says, Sikeston went on like nothing had ever happened.  

Here’s Rhonda with Ms. Mable again. 

Rhonda Council: After you all saw the lynching that happened, did you and your friends talk about that? 

Mable Cook: No, we didn’t have none … we didn’t talk about it. My daddy told us not to have nothing be said about it, uh-uh. 

Rhonda Council: Oh, because your dad said that. 

Mable Cook: That’s right. He told us not to worry about it, not talk about it. Uh-huh. And he said it’ll go away if you not talk about it, you know, uh-huh. 

Rhonda Council: So over the years, did you ever want to get it out? Did you ever want to talk about it? 

Mable Cook: Yeah, I did want to. Uh-huh. I wanted to. Uh-huh. 

Rhonda Council: But you just couldn’t do it. 

Mable Cook: No. No. Uh-uh. No, he didn’t want us talking about it. He told us to forget it. 

Cara Anthony: Forget it. Don’t talk about it. It’ll go away. 

And, in a way, it did. 

No one was charged. No one went to prison. Cleo’s name faded from the news. 

[BEAT]   

Cara Anthony: But decades later, Ms. Mable, the witness; Rhonda, her granddaughter; and me, the journalist, we talked about it a lot. 

We turned the story over and over, and as I listened to Ms. Mable, there was a distance between the almost matter-of-fact way she described the lynching and what I expected her feelings would be. 

I asked her if she was ever depressed … or if she had sleepless nights, anxiety. As a health reporter, I was on the lookout for symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder. 

But Ms. Mable said no. 

That surprised me. And Rhonda, too. 

Cara Anthony: If we were to roll back the clock, go in a time machine, it’s 1942. All of a sudden, you see Cleo Wright’s body on the back of a car. How do you, can you even imagine that? 

Rhonda Council: I could not imagine. And even when talking to her about it, and she had such a vivid memory of it. And you ask her, did it haunt her, and she said no, she, it didn’t bother her, but I know deep down inside it had to because there’s no way that you could see something like that — someone dragged through the streets, basically naked going over rocks and the body just being dragged. 

I, I don’t know how I could have handled it because that’s just very, you just can’t treat a human being like that. 

Cara Anthony: That’s what’s so hard about these stories. And the research shows that seeing that kind of brutal, racial violence has health effects. But how do we recognize them? And what happens if we don’t? 

Those are some of the questions I asked Keisha Bentley-Edwards. 

Keisha Bentley-Edwards: Oftentimes, people who experience racial trauma are forced to not acknowledge it as such, or they’re forced to question whether or not it happened in the first place. 

Cara Anthony: Keisha is an associate professor in medicine at Duke University. She studies structural racism and chronic health conditions and knows a lot about what happens after a lynching. 

Keisha Bentley-Edwards: It’s difficult to talk about racism. And part of it is that you’re talking about power, who has it, who doesn’t have it. 

It’s not fun to talk about constantly being in a state where someone else can control your life with little recourse. 

Cara Anthony: That’s even more complicated in a place like Sikeston. 

Keisha Bentley-Edwards: When you’re in a smaller city, there is no way to turn away from the people who were the perpetrators of a race-based crime. And that, in and of itself, is a trauma. To know that someone has victimized your family member and you still have to say hello, you still have to say, “Good morning, ma’am.” And you have to just swallow your trauma in order to make the person who committed that trauma comfortable so that you don’t put your own family members at risk. 

Cara Anthony: Keisha says part of the stress comes from being Black and always being aware — alert — that the everyday ways you move through the world can be perceived as a threat to other people. 

Keisha Bentley-Edwards: Your life as a Black person is precarious. And I think that is what’s so hard about lynchings and these types of racist incidents is that so much of it is about, “I turned left when I could have turned right.” 

You know, “If I had just turned right or if I had stayed at home for another 10 minutes, this wouldn’t have happened.” 

Cara Anthony: That’s as true today as it was when Cleo Wright was alive. 

Keisha Bentley-Edwards: So, you don’t have to know the history of lynching to be affected by it. And so if you want to dismantle the legacy of the histories, you actually have to know it. So that you can address it and actually have some type of reconciliation and to move forward. 

Cara Anthony: I don’t know how you move on from something like the lynching of Cleo Wright. But breaking the silence is a step. 

And at 97, Ms. Mable did just that. 

She spoke to me. She trusted me enough to talk about it. Afterward, she said she felt lighter. 

Mable Cook: That’s right. Mm-hmm. So, it makes me feel much better after getting it out. 

[BEAT]  

Cara Anthony: A couple of years after we took the tour of Sikeston together, Ms. Mable died. 

When they lowered her casket into the ground, Ms. Mable’s family played a hymn she loved. 

It was a song she had sung for me … the day she invited me to visit her church. We sat in the pews. It was the middle of the week, but she was in her Sunday best. 

As we talked about Cleo Wright and Ms. Mable’s life in Sikeston, she told me she came back to that hymn over and over. 

Mable Cook: “Glory, Glory.” That’s what it was. [SINGING] Glory, glory, hallelujah. Since I laid my burden down. Glory, glory, hallelujah. Since I laid my burdens down […] 

Cara Anthony: I grew up singing that song. But before that moment, it was just another hymn in church. When Ms. Mable sang, it became something else. It sounded more like … an anthem. A call to acknowledge what we’ve been carrying with us in our bodies and minds. And to know it’s possible to talk about it … and maybe feel lighter. 

Mable Cook: [SINGING] … Every route go high and higher since I laid my burden down. Every route go high and higher since I laid my burden down […] 

Cara Anthony: Racism is heavy and it’s making Black people sick. Hives, high blood pressure, heart disease, inflammation, and struggles with mental health. 

To lay those burdens down, we have to name them first. 

That’s what I want this series to be: a podcast about finding the words to say the things that go unsaid. 

Across four episodes, we’re exploring the silence around violence and racism. And, maybe, we’ll get some redemption, too. 

I’m glad you’re here. There’s a lot more to talk about. 

Next time on “Silence in Sikeston,” the podcast … 

Meet my Aunt B and hear about our family’s hidden history. 

Cara Anthony: I told you what the three R’s of history are, right? 

Aunt B: No, tell me. 

Cara Anthony: So the three R’s of history are, you have to recognize something in order to repair it, in order to have days of redemption. So, Recognize, Repair, Redeem. And that’s what we’re doing. 

Aunt B: Man, how deep is that? 

Cara Anthony: That’s what we’re doing. 

Aunt B: Wow. 

CREDITS 

Cara Anthony: Thanks for listening to “Silence in Sikeston.” 

Next, go watch the documentary — it’s a joint production from Retro Report and KFF Health News, presented in partnership with WORLD. 

Subscribe to WORLD Channel on YouTube. That’s where you can find the film “Silence in Sikeston,” a Local, USA special. 

This podcast is a co-production of WORLD Channel and KFF Health News and distributed by PRX. 

It was produced with support from PRX and made possible in part by a grant from the John S. and James L. Knight Foundation. 

The audio series was reported and hosted by me, Cara Anthony. 

Zach Dyer and Taylor Cook are the producers. 

Editing by Simone Popperl. 

Taunya English is managing editor of the podcast. 

Sound design, mixing, and original music by Lonnie Ro. 

Podcast art design by Colin Mahoney and Tania Castro-Daunais. 

Oona Zenda was the lead on the landing page design. 

Julio Ricardo Varela consulted on the script. 

Sending a shoutout to my vocal coach, Viki Merrick, for helping me tap into my voice. 

Music in this episode is from BlueDot Sessions and Epidemic Sound. 

Additional audio from KFVS News in Sikeston, Missouri. 

Some of the audio you’ll hear across the podcast is also in the film. 

For that, special thanks to Adam Zletz, Matt Gettemeier, Roger Herr, and Philip Geyelin, who worked with us and colleagues from Retro Report. 

Kyra Darnton is executive producer at Retro Report. 

I was a producer on the film. 

Jill Rosenbaum directed the documentary. 

Kytja Weir is national editor at KFF Health News. 

WORLD Channel’s editor-in-chief and executive producer is Chris Hastings. 

If “Silence in Sikeston” has been meaningful to you, help us get the word out! 

Write a review or give us a quick rating on Apple, Spotify, Amazon Music, iHeart, or wherever you listen to this podcast. It shows the powers that be that this is the kind of journalism you want. 

Thank you. It makes a difference. 

Oh yeah … and tell your friends in real life, too! 

Credits

Taunya English
Managing editor

@TaunyaEnglish

Taunya is deputy managing editor for broadcast at KFF Health News, where she leads enterprise audio projects.

Simone Popperl
Line editor

@simoneppprl

Simone is broadcast editor at KFF Health News, where she shapes and edits stories that air on Marketplace and NPR, manages a reporting collaborative with local NPR member stations across the country, and edits the KFF Health News Minute.

Zach Dyer
Senior producer

@zkdyer

Zach is senior producer for audio with KFF Health News, where he supervises all levels of podcast production.

Taylor Cook
Associate producer

@taylormcook7

Taylor is an independent producer who does research, books guests, contributes writing, and fact-checks episodes for several KFF Health News podcasts.

Additional Newsroom Support

Lynne Shallcross, photo editorOona Zenda, illustrator and web producerLydia Zuraw, web producerTarena Lofton, audience engagement producer Hannah Norman, visual producer and visual reporter Chaseedaw Giles, audience engagement editor and digital strategistKytja Weir, national editor Mary Agnes Carey, managing editor Alex Wayne, executive editorDavid Rousseau, publisher Terry Byrne, copy chief Gabe Brison-Trezise, deputy copy chief Tammie Smith, communications officer 

The “Silence in Sikeston” podcast is a production of KFF Health News and WORLD. Distributed by PRX. Subscribe and listen on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, Amazon Music, iHeart, or wherever you get your podcasts.

Watch the accompanying documentary from WORLD, Retro Report, and KFF starting Sept. 16, here.

To hear other KFF Health News podcasts, click here.

KFF Health News is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues and is one of the core operating programs at KFF—an independent source of health policy research, polling, and journalism. Learn more about KFF.

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Letters to the Editor is a periodic feature. We welcome all comments and will publish a selection. We edit for length and clarity and require full names.

Debunking Abortion Myths

I want to send a big THANK YOU to Matt Volz for writing a fact-checking article on the nonsense rhetoric around “abortion up until and after birth” that has run wild and unchallenged in the media (“GOP’s Tim Sheehy Revives Discredited Abortion Claims in Pivotal Senate Race,” July 9). Thanks for putting abortion later in pregnancy in context and debunking false assumptions.

I am a near-third-trimester abortion patient (nonviable pregnancy, terminated at 26 weeks), and I am so sick of hearing politicians like Tim Sheehy talk about something they have never experienced or bothered to learn about. It is as though I am watching the entire nation maliciously gossip about me and other parents like me. Those of us in the termination for medical reasons (TFMR) community have walked through hell only to have our voices, at best, be ignored or, more commonly, be insulted and threatened.

And I imagine watching this political circus is just as hurtful for parents who lost an infant shortly after birth and had to provide palliative care. That is who they are talking about with “abortion after birth”; they are talking about comfort care for infants who will not survive.

Thank you again for bringing a dose of reality to a conversation that never should have become political. These are impossible decisions that only parents should make. It was really refreshing to read Volz’s article and know that some journalists are still willing to fact-check the absurd claims floating around. It was encouraging to know that someone does see us.

— Anne Angus, Bozeman, Montana

A physician and Yale professor of radiology and biomedical imaging took to the social platform X to share feedback:

.@SenatorTester is a great Senator. And his opponent is a great liar. Both the GOP presidential candidate and Tim Sheehy have perpetuated this lie. Please push back every time you hear it. https://t.co/1LBGPgOA2u

— (((Howard Forman))) (@thehowie) July 9, 2024

— Howard Forman, New Haven, Connecticut

I just read your article at PolitiFact on Republican Senate candidate Tim Sheehy’s statement about abortion, and I would like to point out (what I believe) are a couple of errors.

1. In paragraph 10, you quote KFF’s Alina Salganicoff saying that “in the good-faith medical judgment of the treating health care provider, continuation of the pregnancy would pose a risk to the pregnant patient’s life or health.” Now, you may know that almost at the same time that the Roe v. Wade decision was released, there was a decision called Doe v. Bolton that interpreted “health” to mean almost anything. That broad interpretation of health is found in your article in paragraph 24: “Women have abortions later in pregnancy either because they find out new information or because of economic or political barriers,” [Katrina] Kimport said.

When a woman can have an abortion after viability because she offers any reason that can be interpreted as “health,” then abortion would be legal throughout all nine months of pregnancy. I believe that you are wrong in your interpretation. Democrats do not want to name any restriction on abortion during all nine months, and every mention of “health” is a fig leaf that does not restrict abortion at all. Every abortion advocate knows that.

2. Whether late-term abortions are rare or not is logically irrelevant to whether late-term abortions should be restricted.

Why don’t you know these things?

— Darryl A. Linde, Tahlequah, Oklahoma

An Air Force veteran added his two cents on X:

Dems have the facts. Republicans spread fear and lies.https://t.co/6CWfKhqxJZ

— James Knight (@jamesUSAF_vet) July 12, 2024

— James Knight, Reno, Nevada

Making a Healthy Difference for the Homeless

Thank you for printing this story (“A California Medical Group Treats Only Homeless Patients — And Makes Money Doing It,” July 19). It really piqued my interest and portrayed a positive solution for getting care to the people.

Up here in the Bay Area, I believe there are a couple of groups who go out and find what needs doing instead of waiting for people to come to them — but nothing like this. Makes me curious about what we actually have going on here.

— Laurie Lippe, El Cerrito, California

A self-described “nurse turned health tech nerd” commended the effort on X:

"They distribute GPS devices so they can track their homeless patients. They keep company credit cards on hand in case a patient needs emergency food or water, or an Uber ride to the doctor"This is healthcare at its best 💕https://t.co/UhM1dgTPH7

— Rik Renard (@rikrenard) July 22, 2024

— Rik Renard, New York City

A senior policy director at the National Health Care for the Homeless Council shared the post on X — while stressing that her tweets reflected her own opinions and not those of her organization:

I’m with ⁦@DrJimWithers: “I do worry about the corporatization of street medicine and capitalism invading what we’ve been building, largely as a social justice mission outside of the traditional health care system.” https://t.co/IOjazvrvqP

— Barbara DiPietro (@BarbaraDiPietro) July 19, 2024

— Barbara DiPietro, Baltimore

On X, a physician who says she champions “physicians, patients, public health, and the patient-physician relationship” reacted to our coverage surrounding the Federal Trade Commission’s rule banning the use of noncompete agreements in employment contracts: 

FTC #noncompete crackdown may not protect doctors and nurses at ~64% of US community hospitals that are tax-exempt nonprofits or government-owned.But, ⁦@FTC⁩ said some nonprofits could be bound by the rule if they do not operate as true charities. https://t.co/9fDbfVflTH

— Marilyn Heine (@MarilynHeineMD) May 28, 2024

— Marilyn Heine, Langhorne, Pennsylvania

Without a Noncompete Ban on All Employers, Rural Access to Care Suffers

When news broke that the Federal Trade Commission would be banning noncompete agreements in employment contracts, many of us in the medical profession celebrated. However, until nonprofit hospitals and health care facilities benefit from the same ban, access to care — particularly in rural regions — will suffer.

As reported in “Health Worker for a Nonprofit? The New Ban on Noncompete Contracts May Not Help You” (June 5), about two-thirds of U.S. community hospitals are nonprofit or government-owned. This means that most hospitals nationwide may continue to enforce noncompete agreements among their employees, a practice that will have an outsize impact on rural medical professionals.

As a rheumatologist in a rural area, I’ve seen how detrimental limited access to care is for patients. Noncompete agreements serve only to further limit access to much-needed care. Due to the physician shortage being particularly acute in rural America, there are oftentimes only a few specialty physicians servicing a large region. Suppose one of these specialists is employed by a large health system and wants to transition to a private practice. It reduces the number of accessible specialists in the area when their noncompete agreement prohibits them from practicing near any of the health care facilities associated with the system. And increasing consolidation across health care means many rural regions may have only a single health system that operates across the entire state and surrounding areas. A geographically limiting noncompete agreement essentially stops a physician or medical professional from practicing entirely in the area, or they must uproot their life and move away from the major health system.

I hope the FTC takes further action to include nonprofit health care employers in its noncompete ban. I also urge nonprofit employers to consider their rural patients’ access to care when requiring providers to sign noncompete agreements. It’s in the best interest of our patient’s health to get rid of these agreements entirely.

— Chris Phillips, chair of the American College of Rheumatology’s Committee on Rheumatologic Care, Paducah, Kentucky

The president of the Texas Medical Board also posted on X with feedback:

Is it a coincidence that this affects everyone, except those who work for nonprofit hospitals and health care facilities, which employs the largest number of medical professionals?The FTC and it's selective enforcement and rules is blatantly obvious! https://t.co/RzXInqiJ8D

— Sherif Zaafran, MD (@szaafran) June 16, 2024

— Sherif Zaafran, Houston

Repurposing Newspaper Boxes for Public Health

I recently read your article by Mara Silvers regarding the state’s intended use of public health vending machines (PHVMs) to help fight the opioid overdose epidemic (“Montana’s Plan To Curb Opioid Overdoses Includes Vending Machines,” July 18). Working on the covid-19 response for almost four years now, and with our American Rescue Plan Act funding coming to an end, we recently used a byline in our equipment budget to purchase and place “resource kiosks” in the community.

In 2022, after researching the use of vending machines for test distribution, we discovered vending machines have high barrier-to-entry costs and high maintenance costs. And even if purchasing isn’t possible, rental contracts come with high fees. We decided it was better to use a lower-cost resource that could be purchased in greater quantity, easily placed with community partners, and required no maintenance: the refurbished newspaper kiosk.

We decided to purchase double-decker boxes, which have a secondary door, creating another shelf, for roughly $410 apiece and stocked them with covid tests, nasal naloxone, injectable naloxone, fentanyl test strips, xylazine test strips, various types of condoms, and lubrication packets. We are in the process of securing a supply of gun locks and adding links to our pilot landing page for individual free gun lock deliveries, as well as links for free sexually transmitted infection test kits. We have investigated providing dental supplies and other items, but long-term funding is a constant concern. Grant money for most programs (likely all ARPA dollars) is running out, so the viability of these types of pilot programs is tentative without a buy-in from state or federal agencies.

Mara’s article hinted at criteria for possible placements and, similarly, we didn’t use locational overdose data, which can be “othering” to communities, but instead placed these kiosks with community partners that have been accomplished supporters of their at-risk populations throughout the covid response. Each community partner helped protect the communities they served through increased access to resources and provided information as trusted messengers. Truly meeting people where they are.

While money quickly appeared to fight the covid pandemic, and states spirited away dollars for pet projects, that sea of funding has dried up, and there doesn’t seem to be a plan for any continued funding. Covid-related functions have all been folded back into communicable disease epidemiology programs, which were already underfunded; in our state, the money funding the naloxone bulk fund is also drying up. Covid deaths might be down, but there is always a new bug (H5N1), STI infections are up, and gun-related deaths grow year over year. Funding population-level health interventions is our next pandemic.

With enough funding, kiosk-sized PHVMs could be swiftly added to any public health agency’s or community program’s quiver of tools to help increase access to resources and information for the most vulnerable residents.

Thank you for publishing a great article about the emerging opportunities to respond to changing public health needs!

— Christopher Howk, Arapahoe County Public Health’s covid-19 testing and logistics coordinator, Greenwood Village, Colorado

A retiree with a PhD in quantum chemistry tweeted his surprise over the news:

Montana’s Plan To Curb Opioid Overdoses Includes Vending Machineshttps://t.co/kNxYjnIOEO(What???!! Vending machines for opioids?)

— John Lounsbury (@jlounsbury59) July 18, 2024

— John Lounsbury, Lake Frederick, Virginia

Misappropriation of Opioid Settlement Funds

OK, so I see how all these states got all these lump sums of money for people like us who became addicted and whose lives were devastated by Purdue Pharma, Vicodin, and all the pharmacies (“Lifesaving Drugs and Police Projects Mark First Use of Opioid Settlement Cash in California,” July 12). How come all these states got all the money but those of us who have suffered have to wait, hire lawyers, and wait years for the money that was just handed over to these states? We’re the ones whose lives were devastated. My son was hooked, I was hooked, and my wife, and yet we must sit here penniless after the addiction, while all these states take the money — and they don’t do what they’re supposed to with it, and everyone knows it.

— Michael Stewart, Des Moines, Iowa

KFF Health News is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues and is one of the core operating programs at KFF—an independent source of health policy research, polling, and journalism. Learn more about KFF.

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Not so long ago, Bonner General Health, the hospital in Sandpoint, Idaho, had four OB/GYNs on staff, who treated patients from multiple rural counties.

That was before Idaho’s near-total abortion ban went into effect almost two years ago, criminalizing most abortions. All four of Bonner’s OB/GYNs left by last summer, some citing fears that the state’s ban exposed them to legal peril for doing their jobs.

The exodus forced Bonner General to shutter its labor and delivery unit and sent patients scrambling to seek new providers more than 40 miles away in Coeur d’Alene or Post Falls, or across the state border to Spokane, Wash. It has made Sandpoint a “double desert,” meaning it lacks access to both maternity care and abortion services.

One patient, Jonell Anderson, was referred to an OB-GYN in Coeur d’Alene, roughly an hour’s drive from Sandpoint, after an ultrasound showed a mass growing in her uterus. Anderson made multiple trips to the out-of-town provider. Previously, she would have found that care close to home.

The experience isn’t limited to this small Idaho town.

A 2023 analysis by ABC News and Boston Children’s Hospital found that more than 1.7 million women of reproductive age in the United States live in a “double desert.” About 3.7 million women live in counties with no access to abortion and little to no maternity care.

Texas, Mississippi and Kentucky have the highest numbers of women of reproductive age living in double deserts, according to the analysis.

Amelia Huntsberger, one of the OB/GYNs who chose to leave Sandpoint — despite having practiced there for a decade — did so because she felt she couldn’t provide the care her patients needed under a law as strict as Idaho’s.

The growing provider shortages in rural states affect not only pregnant and postpartum women, but all women, said Usha Ranji, an associate director for Women’s Health Policy at KFF, a health information nonprofit that includes KFF Health News.

“Pregnancy is obviously a very intense period of focus, but people need access to this care before, during and after, and outside of pregnancy,” Ranji said.

The problem is expected to worsen.

In Idaho, the number of applicants to fill spots left by departing doctors has “absolutely plummeted,” said Susie Keller, CEO of the Idaho Medical Association.

“We are witnessing the dismantling of our health system,” she said.

This article is not available for syndication due to republishing restrictions. If you have questions about the availability of this or other content for republication, please contact NewsWeb@kff.org.

KFF Health News is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues and is one of the core operating programs at KFF—an independent source of health policy research, polling, and journalism. Learn more about KFF.

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Las pruebas han detectado el virus en el ganado en nueve estados, principalmente en Texas y Nuevo México, y más recientemente en Colorado, dijo Nirav Shah, director principal adjunto de los Centros para el Control y Prevención de Enfermedades (CDC), en un evento del 1 de mayo.

Otros animales, y al menos una persona en Texas, también se infectaron con el H5N1. Pero lo que más temen los científicos es si el virus se propagara de manera eficiente de persona a persona. Eso no ha sucedido y podría no suceder. Shah dijo que los CDC consideran que el brote de H5N1 “es un riesgo bajo para el público en general en este momento”.

Los virus evolucionan y los brotes pueden cambiar rápidamente. “Como con cualquier brote importante, esto se mueve a la velocidad de un tren bala”, dijo Shah. “De lo que hablamos ahora es de un instantánea de ese tren que se mueve rápidamente”. Lo que quiere decir es que lo que hoy se sabe sobre la gripe aviar H5N1 seguramente cambiará.

Con eso en mente, KFF Health News explica lo que se necesita saber ahora.

¿Quién contrae el virus que causa la gripe aviar?

Principalmente las aves. Sin embargo, en los últimos años, el virus de la gripe aviar H5N1 ha estado saltando cada vez más de las aves a los mamíferos en todo el mundo. La creciente lista, de más de 50 especies, incluye focas, cabras, zorrinos, gatos y perros salvajes en un zoológico en el Reino Unido. Al menos 24,000 leones marinos murieron en brotes de gripe aviar H5N1 en Sudamérica el año pasado.

Lo que hace que el brote actual en el ganado sea inusual es que se está propagando rápidamente de vaca a vaca, mientras que los otros casos, excepto las infecciones de leones marinos, parecen limitados. Los investigadores saben esto porque las secuencias genéticas de los virus H5N1 extraídos de las vacas este año eran casi idénticas entre sí.

El brote de ganado también preocupa porque agarró al país desprevenido. Los investigadores que examinan los genomas del virus sugieren que originalmente se transmitió de las aves a las vacas a finales del año pasado en Texas, y desde entonces se ha propagado entre muchas más vacas de las que se han examinado.

“Nuestros análisis muestran que esto ha estado circulando en vacas durante unos cuatro meses, bajo nuestras narices”, dijo Michael Worobey, biólogo especializado en evolución de la Universidad de Arizona en Tucson.

¿Es este el comienzo de la próxima pandemia?

Aún no. Pero es algo que vale la pena considerar porque una pandemia de gripe aviar sería una pesadilla. Más de la mitad de las personas infectadas por cepas anteriores del virus de la gripe aviar H5N1 de 2003 a 2016 murieron.

Incluso si las tasas de mortalidad resultan ser menos severas para la cepa H5N1 que circula actualmente en el ganado, las repercusiones podrían implicar muchas personas enfermas y hospitales demasiado abrumados para manejar otras emergencias médicas.

Aunque al menos una persona se infectó con el H5N1 este año, el virus no puede provocar una pandemia en su estado actual.

Para alcanzar este horrible estatus, un patógeno necesita enfermar a muchas personas en varios continentes. Y para lograrlo, el virus H5N1 necesitaría infectar a toneladas de personas. Eso no sucederá a través de saltos ocasionales del virus de los animales de granja a las personas. Más bien, el virus debe adquirir mutaciones para propagarse de persona a persona, como la gripe estacional, como una infección respiratoria transmitida principalmente por el aire cuando las personas tosen, estornudan y respiran.

Como aprendimos de covid-19, los virus transmitidos por el aire son difíciles de frenar.

Eso aún no ha sucedido. Sin embargo, los virus H5N1 ahora tienen muchas oportunidades para evolucionar a medida que se replican dentro de los organismos de miles de vacas. Como todos los virus, mutan a medida que se replican, y las mutaciones que mejoran la supervivencia del virus se transmiten a la próxima generación. Y debido a que las vacas son mamíferos, los virus podrían estar mejorando en reproducirse dentro de células más cercanas a las nuestras que las de las aves.

La evolución de un virus de gripe aviar listo para una pandemia podría facilitarse por una especie de superpoder que poseen muchos virus. Es decir, a veces intercambian sus genes con otras cepas en un proceso llamado recombinación.

En un estudio publicado en 2009, Worobey y otros investigadores rastrearon el origen de la pandemia del virus de la gripe porcina H1N1 en eventos en los que diferentes virus que causaban esta gripe, la gripe aviar y la gripe humana mezclaban y combinaban sus genes dentro de cerdos que se estaban infectando simultáneamente. Los cerdos no necesitan estar involucrados esta vez, advirtió Worobey.

¿Comenzará una pandemia si una persona bebe leche contaminada con el virus?

Aún no. La leche de vaca, así como la leche en polvo y la fórmula infantil, que se venden en tiendas se consideran seguras porque la ley requiere que toda la leche vendida comercialmente sea pasteurizada. Este proceso de calentar la leche a altas temperaturas mata bacterias, virus y otros microorganismos.

Las pruebas han identificado fragmentos de virus H5N1 en la leche comercial, pero confirman que los fragmentos del virus están muertos y, por lo tanto, son inofensivos.

Sin embargo, la leche “cruda” no pasteurizada ha demostrado contener virus H5N1 vivos, por eso la Administración de Drogas y Alimentos (FDA) y otras autoridades sanitarias recomiendan firmemente a las personas que no la tomen, porque podrían enfermarse de gravedad o algo peor.

Pero, aún así, es poco probable que se desate una pandemia porque el virus, en su forma actual, no se propaga eficientemente de persona a persona, como lo hace, por ejemplo, la gripe estacional.

¿Qué se debe hacer?

¡Mucho! Debido a la falta de vigilancia, el Departamento de Agricultura (USDA) y otras agencias han permitido que la gripe aviar H5N1 se propague en el ganado, sin ser detectada. Para hacerse cargo de la situación, el USDA recientemente ordenó que se sometan a pruebas a todas las vacas lecheras en lactancia antes que los ganaderos las trasladen a otros estados, y que se informen los resultados de las pruebas.

Pero al igual que restringir las pruebas de covid a los viajeros internacionales a principios de 2020 permitió que el coronavirus se propagara sin ser detectado, testear solo a las vacas que se mueven entre estados dejaría pasar muchos casos.

Estas pruebas limitadas no revelarán cómo se está propagando el virus entre el ganado, información que los ganaderos necesitan desesperadamente para frenarlo. Una hipótesis principal es que los virus se están transfiriendo de una vaca a la siguiente a través de las máquinas utilizadas para ordeñarlas.

Para aumentar las pruebas, Fred Gingrich, director ejecutivo de la American Association of Bovine Practitioners, dijo que el gobierno debería ofrecer fondos a los ganaderos para que informen casos y así tengan un incentivo para hacer pruebas. De lo contrario, dijo, informar solo daña la reputación por encima de las pérdidas financieras.

“Estos brotes tienen un impacto económico significativo”, dijo Gingrich. “Los ganaderos pierden aproximadamente el 20% de su producción de leche en un brote porque los animales dejan de comer, producen menos leche, y parte de esa leche es anormal y no se puede vender”.

Gingrich agregó que el gobierno ha hecho gratuitas las pruebas de H5N1 para los ganaderos, pero no han presupuestado dinero para los veterinarios que deben tomar muestras de las vacas, transportar las muestras y presentar los documentos. “Las pruebas son la parte menos costosa”, explicó.

Si las pruebas en las granjas siguen siendo esquivas, los virólogos aún pueden aprender mucho analizando secuencias genómicas del virus H5N1 de muestras de ganado. Las diferencias entre las secuencias cuentan una historia sobre dónde y cuándo comenzó el brote actual, el camino que recorre y si los virus están adquiriendo mutaciones que representan una amenaza para las personas.

Sin embargo, esta investigación vital se ha visto obstaculizada porque el USDA publica los datos incompletos y con cuentagotas, dijo Worobey.

El gobierno también debería ayudar a los criadores de aves de corral a prevenir brotes de H5N1, ya que estos matan a muchas aves y representan una amenaza constante de potenciales saltos de especies, dijo Maurice Pitesky, especialista en enfermedades de aves de la Universidad de California-Davis.

Las aves acuáticas como los patos y los gansos son las fuentes habituales de brotes en granjas avícolas, y los investigadores pueden detectar su proximidad mediante el uso de sensores remotos y otras tecnologías. Eso puede significar una vigilancia rutinaria para detectar signos tempranos de infecciones en aves de corral, usar cañones de agua para ahuyentar a las bandadas migratorias, reubicar animales de granja o llevarlos temporalmente a cobertizos. “Deberíamos estar invirtiendo en prevención”, dijo Pitesky.

Bien, no es una pandemia, pero ¿qué podría pasarle a las personas que contraigan la gripe aviar H5N1 de este año?

Realmente nadie lo sabe. Solo una persona en Texas fue diagnosticada con la enfermedad este año, en abril. Esta persona trabajaba con vacas lecheras, y tuvo un caso leve con una infección en el ojo. Los CDC se enteraron de esto debido a su proceso de vigilancia. Las clínicas deben alertar a los departamentos de salud estatales cuando diagnostican a trabajadores agrícolas con gripe, utilizando pruebas que detectan virus de la influenza en general.

Los departamentos de salud estatales luego confirman la prueba y, si es positiva, envían una muestra de la persona a un laboratorio de los CDC, donde se verifica específicamente la presencia del virus H5N1. “Hasta ahora hemos recibido 23”, dijo Shah. “Todos menos uno resultaron negativos”.

Agregó que funcionarios del departamento de salud estatal también están monitoreando a alrededor de 150 personas que han pasado tiempo alrededor de ganado. Están en contacto con estos trabajadores agrícolas con llamadas telefónicas, mensajes de texto o visitas en persona para ver si desarrollan síntomas. Y si eso sucede, les harán pruebas.

Otra forma de evaluar a los trabajadores agrícolas sería testear su sangre en busca de anticuerpos contra el virus de la gripe aviar H5N1; un resultado positivo indicaría que podrían haberse infectado sin saberlo. Pero Shah dijo que los funcionarios de salud aún no están haciendo este trabajo.

“El hecho de que hayan pasado cuatro meses y aún no hayamos hecho esto no es una buena señal”, dijo Worobey. “No estoy muy preocupado por una pandemia en este momento, pero deberíamos comenzar a actuar como si no quisiéramos que sucediera”.

KFF Health News is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues and is one of the core operating programs at KFF—an independent source of health policy research, polling, and journalism. Learn more about KFF.

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