Man Who Died in ICE Custody in Texas Was Denied Medicine, Daughter Says

© Jordan Vonderhaar for The New York Times

© Jordan Vonderhaar for The New York Times


Last March on Instagram, Students for Life President Kristan Hawkins posted a photo showing her and two other members of the Virginia-based group standing outside Space Center Houston. According to the captions, Hawkins and her fellow activists, one of whom was holding a mobile phone, were "ordering abortion pills undercover."
A lawsuit filed last week in Harris County, which includes Houston, describes that Instagram post as "nothing more than a publicity stunt." The lawsuit, which aims to deploy a Texas abortion law championed by Students for Life against the organization, is also a publicity stunt. But while it may be effective by that measure, it faces legal challenges that will be hard to overcome.
The lawsuit, which a Texas woman who opposes her state's abortion ban filed under the pseudonym Maria Puerto with help from the reproductive rights group Amplify Legal, is supposed to highlight the vagueness and broad scope of House Bill 7, a 2025 law that authorizes private civil action to enforce state restrictions on "abortion-inducing" drugs. But Puerto's attempted act of legal jiu-jitsu seems too clever by half, relying on a dubious reading of the statute to seek "monetary compensation" it does not authorize and thereby punish anti-abortion activists for constitutionally protected advocacy.
H.B. 7, also known as the Woman and Child Protection Act, says "a person may not manufacture or distribute an abortion-inducing drug in this state" or "mail, transport, deliver, prescribe, or provide an abortion-inducing drug in any manner to or from any person or location in this state." Those prohibitions, it says, "may be enforced only through a qui tam action" against a "person" who "violates" or "intends to violate" them.
Any "person" other than a state or local official can qualify as a "relator" authorized to bring such an action. The relator can seek injunctive relief and "an amount of not less than $100,000 for each violation," plus "costs and reasonable attorney's fees." A successful relator generally receives $10,000 of that "amount," with the rest going to a "charitable organization" of his choice.
As a "person" who is not a government official, Puerto meets H.B. 7's minimal test for standing. And although H.B. 7 precludes lawsuits against pregnant women who obtain "an abortion-inducing drug," Puerto says Hawkins and the other activists "are not pregnant and were not pregnant" at the time of the Instagram post. So far, so good. But although the lawsuit asserts that Hawkins et al. "openly and flagrantly violated" the law's prohibitions, it does not explain how.
A photo accompanying a recent Mother Jones profile of Hawkins shows her and her social media coordinator, Lydia Taylor Davis, outside Space Center Houston during their "abortion-pill 'sting' stunt." Another Mother Jones photo shows Hawkins holding a mobile phone displaying what Puerto's lawsuit describes as "an order confirmation."
Judging from the Mother Jones account, it is not clear whether that description is accurate. "The scheme rapidly went off the rails," Amy Littlefield writes. "The plan was to purchase pills from a couple of services, with Hawkins posing as a male abuser while Davis pretended to be a 16-year-old—all to try to portray mail-order suppliers as reckless and dangerous. For reasons even she couldn't explain, Hawkins chose the fake name 'Wanda' as her male-abuser alter ego. But when Davis input her information, she hit a snag."
Davis was trying to order pills from the Massachusetts Medication Abortion Access Project. But according to Littlefield, that organization "had blocked Davis in its system after Students for Life teased the sting operation on social media." Hawkins "attempted to save the stunt by placing her own order, but 'Wanda' accidentally gave her age as 15," which was below the supplier's minimum age, Littlefield says. "Now a security guard was wandering over to tell them they couldn't film. Having set out to show that telemedicine services don't screen their clients, they inadvertently proved the opposite."
Puerto "will need proof that the Students for Life leaders actually obtained or intended to obtain the pills," abortion law scholar Mary Ziegler notes in Slate. "The activists may argue that the post was not in earnest, and that no one involved ever seriously intended to bring pills into Texas."
Even assuming that Hawkins et al. successfully ordered abortion pills, that conduct by itself does not fit the language of H.B. 7, which applies to people who "distribute" such drugs or who "mail, transport, deliver, prescribe, or provide" them "to or from any person or location in this state." That language encompasses out-of-state suppliers, which raises obvious concerns about extraterritorial application of Texas law. But on its face, the prohibition does not cover someone who simply orders abortion pills.
Puerto's lawyer, Amplify Legal attorney Molly Duane, argues that Hawkins et al. could be covered by the statute's reference to transportation. "What the statute says is that transporting abortion drugs from one location to another within the state is a violation of H.B. 7," Duane told The Texas Tribune. "By the plain language of the statute, this would seem to be a violation. This is the problem with writing such a confusing and vague law."
Under that theory, however, Hawkins, Davis, and the two other activists named in the lawsuit violated H.B. 7 only if they 1) successfully ordered abortion pills, 2) took delivery of them, and 3) subsequently moved them to another location within Texas. The lawsuit alleges only that they "ordered abortion pills, apparently multiple times." According to The Texas Tribune, Duane and Puerto "are hoping that the lawsuit will eventually surface more about what the defendants did with the abortion pills once they ordered them."
The lawsuit faces another obstacle. H.B. 7 does not apply to "speech or conduct protected by the First Amendment." Hawkins et al.'s efforts to show how easily state abortion bans can be circumvented certainly seem to fall into that category. "Students for Life may stress that the case targets their political speech about abortion," which is "protected under the First Amendment," Ziegler notes.
Those are not the only puzzling aspects of the lawsuit. Puerto, a 26-year-old single mother of two young children, emphasizes that she "had no choice but to continue" those pregnancies because she did not "have access to transportation or the economic resources to pay for travel out of state." The lawsuit devotes 11 paragraphs to describing the burdens imposed by her state's denial of "true reproductive rights," which she argues justifies some sort of compensation.
All of this seems legally irrelevant under H.B. 7, which does not require a relator to allege damages of any sort, let alone damages stemming from the abortion ban it aims to reinforce. "With nowhere else to turn for assistance," the lawsuit says, "Ms. Puerto is seeking financial compensation" from Hawkins et al. "in the amount of $459,782—the average cost of raising two children from birth to age 18 in the state of Texas."
Although H.B. 7 sets a minimum award of $100,000, the lawsuit notes, "there is no cap on the monetary compensation owed a relator." But the law does not describe H.B. 7 awards as "monetary compensation" for injuries allegedly suffered by the relator.
The statute's only reference to "compensatory damages" deals with lawsuits filed against H.B. 7 relators under "clawback provisions" of other states that have tried to thwart such litigation. In response to a "clawback" action, the law says, an H.B. 7 relator can seek "compensatory damages, including money damages in an amount equal to the judgment damages and costs, expenses, and reasonable attorney's fees spent in defending the action." By contrast, the bounty for proving a violation of the restrictions on abortion pills is simply "an amount."
The lawsuit itself, emphasizing the lax standards for filing a claim under H.B. 7, notes that Puerto "did not suffer an injury traceable to [the defendants'] ordering of abortion pills that can be remedied by a court." But it suggests that an award to Puerto would be appropriate given the defendants' anti-abortion activism.
The lawsuit notes that Students for Life "proudly advertised" its support for H.B. 7. Puerto complains that Hawkins et al. "ignore the immense harms and multiple deaths already attributed to Texas's cruel abortion bans" and "demean the six million Texans of reproductive age who have had their ability to decide whether and when to begin or expand a family stripped away by these bans." Whatever you make of that charge, the defendants' activism is constitutionally protected and therefore cannot support a cause of action in civil court.
"Texas is a strange place filled with vigilante statutes" that "seek to turn Texans against each other," Duane told The Texas Tribune. "But if anyone should be benefiting from these legal regimes, it's people like our client." While "putting those two things together…might be unusual," she said, "this is the situation that Texas has put its citizens in."
Depending on your perspective, you may or may not sympathize with Duane's reasoning. But it seems unlikely to pass muster as a matter of law.
The post A Texas Lawsuit Dubiously Accuses Students for Life of Violating the State's Abortion Pill Restrictions appeared first on Reason Magazine.
Nikole Hannah-Jones says there have been only two occasions when she looked around a first-class cabin and saw that every passenger was Black. She says that when that happens, something else is going on as well.


US military says Tech Sgt Ian Patterson was killed after he fell from rafters at University of Texas at San Antonio game
The US military has identified the air force officer who died after he fell from the rafters of the Alamodome during a rappelling demonstration before the University of Texas at San Antonio (UTSA)’s home game against Navy on Saturday.
He was Tech Sgt Ian Patterson, a tactical air control party instructor assigned to the sixth combat training squadron, detachment two, at Joint Base San Antonio.
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© Photograph: Joe Nogalski/ZUMA Press Wire/Shutterstock

© Photograph: Joe Nogalski/ZUMA Press Wire/Shutterstock

© Photograph: Joe Nogalski/ZUMA Press Wire/Shutterstock
One of the factors that led Greg Pirio to buy his house in Loudoun County, in northern Virginia, 14 years ago, was the nature surrounding it. A historian specializing in Africa, he loved to take long walks with his dog and listen to the birds. Three years ago, a large data center was installed just a hundred meters from his door. Since it began operating a year and a half ago, the birdsong has been replaced by a constant buzzing together with fumes that cause headaches, conjunctivitis and respiratory problems.

© LM Otero/Associated Press

Officer fell from rafters during pregame display
Man treated on field before being taken to hospital
An Air Force officer has died after he fell from the rafters of the Alamodome before the University of Texas at San Antonio’s home game against Navy on Saturday.
The officer, who has not been named, was taking part in an event to celebrate UTSA’s Salute to Armed Forces and Veterans night. He fell on to the field while rappelling down from the stadium rafters. He was treated on the field before being taken away on a stretcher. He later died from his injuries at a local hospital. Nellis Air Force Base said he was part of the 6th Combat Training Squadron. The unit helps train military members to rappel down from helicopters.
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© Photograph: John Rivera/Icon Sportswire/Getty Images

© Photograph: John Rivera/Icon Sportswire/Getty Images

© Photograph: John Rivera/Icon Sportswire/Getty Images
The battle for the Senate in the midterm elections will determine how much room Donald Trump has to maneuver during the second half of his term: no legislation reaches the White House without first passing through the upper chamber.
There is still over an hour before the protagonist appears, but the line already wraps around the block. Dozens of people wait patiently for their turn to see the man who has become the great hope of the Democratic left wing. When he begins to speak, pandemonium breaks out: “My name is Abdul El‑Sayed and I am going to be your next senator in Washington.” Over the next hour, the hundreds gathered in this venue will applaud, laugh, and cheer every word from the mouth of the new star of American politics, who has already made a fitted black T‑shirt and jeans his trademark look. We are in Lansing, Michigan’s capital, where one of the most gripping battles of the midterm elections — just over two weeks away — is being fought.

© Paul Sancya (AP Photo/Paul Sancya)

The Trump administration's attempts to fast-track construction of the president's long-promised border wall through Texas' remote Big Bend region have ground to a halt amid fierce opposition, protests, and legal challenges from landowners and conservation groups.
A federal judge on Wednesday released an opinion explaining her decision to issue a preliminary injunction blocking border wall construction through the Big Bend area. U.S. District Judge Kathleen Cardone found that the plaintiffs, which included the Center for Biological Diversity and several longtime residents of the region, had shown a substantial threat of irreparable harm if the construction project is allowed to continue.
The Trump administration wants to spend $7.5 billion building additional security infrastructure along a 500-mile stretch of the U.S.-Mexico border running through the Big Bend region, which includes Big Bend National Park. The federal government began sending threatening letters to property owners announcing its intent to acquire necessary pieces of their land this summer, and it waived several environmental regulations, allowing it to put bulldozers on the ground inside the national park by September.
However, numerous groups and local landowners say the border wall project will alter their way of life and permanently scar one of the most rugged and pristine landscapes in the country. The project attracted bipartisan criticism and protests.
Cardone also found that the plaintiffs were likely to succeed on their claims that Department of Homeland Security (DHS) Secretary Markwayne Mullin exceeded his authority when he issued environmental waivers for the project.
The injunction is a temporary reprieve for property owners such as David Keller, an archaeologist and part-time river guide on the Rio Grande River. The original plans for the border wall expansion would have cut through Keller's 10-acre property near Redford, Texas, putting a 30-foot-tall wall on the levee that sits between the river and the rest of his land.
Keller says the Trump administration gravely underestimated how much anger its tactics and attitude would generate.
"It's a level of arrogance—they're just used to being able to bulldoze over people," David Keller says. "They were moving forward as if they weren't expecting any resistance, but boy, they're due for a wakeup call. And they're having it right now."
Keller is a plaintiff in a separate lawsuit against the DHS by Conserve Big Bend, a coalition of landowners, conservationists, river tour guides, researchers, and other affected parties.
Keller says he's loved wild, open country since he was a child, and as soon as he saw the region in the 1990s, he decided he would find a way to live and work there, which he's done for the past 25 years. "It's visually magnificent," Keller says. "It's incredible. It's like no other place I'd ever seen. It's one of the last unspoiled places remaining in the lower 48."
Keller says it's where he plans on being buried, too, although these days he's unsure whether to say "plans" or "planned." The proposed border construction is an existential threat to the life he's built, he says, and if the wall goes up, he'd likely move.
"I didn't come down here to live in a cage," Keller says.
The proposed border wall would not only block access to the river for farmers, ranchers, and outdoors enthusiasts along the river, as well as block the view into Mexico, it would wreck "the whole feeling of the place, the historical cross-border culture that we've developed," Keller says.
So far, the federal government has not tried to seize any private property in the Big Bend region through eminent domain, although it sent letters to property owners this summer requesting access to survey their land and warning them that it held the option to invoke eminent domain if they did not quickly sell.
Both Keller's and the Center for Biological Diversity's lawsuits argue that the department's justification for building and expediting additional border infrastructure in the Big Bend Region are factually and legally incorrect. The DHS determined that the sector of the border is an "area of high illegal entry."
However, despite making up roughly a quarter of the entire U.S.-Mexico border, the Big Bend sector only accounted for between 0.3 percent and 2.2 percent of total border-wide arrests over the past 30 years.
Cardone cited the low apprehension numbers in her finding that Mullin exceeded his authority to issue the waivers.
"The unrebutted evidence shows that the Big Bend Sector is, by far, the sector with the lowest rate of migrant apprehensions along the entire U.S.-Mexico border, both in terms of gross totals and apprehensions per mile of border," Cardone wrote. "Therefore, if the Big Bend Sector is an area of high illegal entry, so is every other sector, and the waiver authority would apply to the entire U.S.-Mexico border."
The post Landowners in Texas' Big Bend Region Fight Trump Administration's Attempts To Seize Land for Border Wall appeared first on Reason Magazine.


Malachi Jacobs/Shutterstock
After more than 15 years of driving between San Antonio and Austin as a longtime Texas local, I've found my favorite detour: Fredericksburg.
Part of the scenic Texas Hill Country, it's a walkable city with German roots, popular for its array of wineries, boutique hotels, and lively downtown.
Although I love Austin and San Antonio, Fredericksburg provides a small-town feel that the aforementioned cities — with populations close to a million each — could never quite achieve.
In my opinion, Fredericksburg's small population of about 12,000 people only lends to its charm. It's a great break from bigger Texas cities, as it's less than a two-hour drive from Austin or San Antonio.
Here are a few reasons I visit Fredericksburg twice a year and highly recommend it as a travel destination.

Little Vignettes Photo/Shutterstock
Fredericksburg is situated in the heart of Texas wine country, so visiting without enjoying one of its many wineries is like a crime in Texas. (Another crime? Dry brisket.)
In Fredericksburg, you can either stop by a multitude of tasting rooms on Main Street or drive out past a ranch or two to find Tuscan-style wineries hidden in plain sight.
One of my favorite wineries is Augusta Vin Winery — and it's worth the extra drive. I always enjoy sipping reds in the spacious tasting room, with large open windows perfect for taking in the Texas sunshine.
A few other wineries worth visiting in Fredericksburg include the Rhinory for the unique experience of drinking at a rhino reserve, Slate Theory for a touch of modernity, and Grape Creek Vineyards or Barons Creek for classic experiences with beautiful views.

Kat Stinson
Consider leaning into the city's German heritage at The Auslander, one of the many locally owned restaurants on Main Street. Reminiscent of a classic Bavarian beer hall, it has beer, a whole section of schnitzel entrées, sausage plates, and German sandwiches.
For a guest more partial to upscale fare, try The Restaurant at Albert Hotel. It's fairly new and a great place for date night.
Led by Michelin-starred chef Michael Fojtasek, The Restaurant pays homage to seasonal Texas Hill Country-inspired cuisine with fresh local ingredients (like peaches) and spins on German dishes.
For good Texas barbecue, stop by Junebug's BBQ. Its menu is filled with smoked meats — the pulled pork is especially impressive — and all the fixings.
Other notable local bites include Vaudeville's famous gumbo that's only available on Saturdays, Otto's decadent cinnamon rolls, and Alstadt Brewery's ice-cold beer and tasty Reuben sandwiches.

Kat Stinson
Main Street is also home to several nice coffee shops — and the Old West-themed Java Ranch is my go-to for a perfect iced latte. I also suggest checking out Kaffee Haus and Caliche Coffee and Roasters.
Lastly, if you want to visit an Instagram-worthy spot with lots of bubbly, head down Main Street to the all-pink paradise that is Brooke's Bubble Bar. It's a very cute place to snap photos and enjoy a drink.

Main Street in Fredericksburg
I often switch up which vineyards, cafés, and eateries I visit, and Fredericksburg's variety of accommodations makes it easy to change up where I stay, too.
I can sleep in one of several boutique hotels, go for a more rustic stay at the Onera treehouse resort near Main Street, or enjoy a cozy guest cabin at Cross Mountain Vineyards.
Hotels and eateries aside, Main Street also has tons of art galleries, antique shops, clothing boutiques, jewelry stores, and more.
I appreciate that I can spend a whole day exploring downtown without ever moving my car. (Plus, I've always been able to find ample free parking on Main Street).
If you want to enjoy a big Texas city, check out Austin or even San Antonio. However, if you're looking for a quieter alternative with a small-town feel, Fredericksburg is a great choice.
After each visit, I know I'll be back soon.
This story was originally published on September 30, 2025, and most recently updated on October 16, 2026.
Musk is the big Paxton funder: According to campaign filings released yesterday, Elon Musk sent $158 million in September to a super PAC that immediately gave that amount of money to a group backing Texas Republican Ken Paxton's Senate bid against Democrat James Talarico.
"On Sept. 9, the first day of the GOP midterm convention in Dallas, Musk gave $75 million to SLF," reports The Texas Tribune. "The next day, SLF put $75 million into a new entity called Texas PAC. By the weekend after the convention, the new super PAC was up on the air with a positive spot about Paxton's work on sex trafficking and a negative ad attacking Talarico as being for 'they/them, not you.'"
Then, two weeks later, "Musk gave an additional $83 million to SLF, according to the group's filing. Sure enough, SLF deposited $83 million into Texas PAC's coffers the following day."
It would be wild if Paxton still loses. Paxton has been embroiled in rolling scandals for years, and some current polls have him underwater by 13 points. A New York Times/Siena survey found only 38 percent of likely Texas voters believe he has "good character," versus 56 percent for Talarico.
Paxton was indicted on securities fraud charges in 2015, and that case dragged on for most of a decade before ending in a pretrial agreement. Then the Texas House, led by Republicans, accused him of bribery and abuse of public trust and successfully impeached him in 2023. The charges centered on allegations that he used his office to help donor Nate Paul—so you can imagine why Musk might want to curry favor with Paxton. Though Paxton was later acquitted by the state Senate, scandal keeps chasing him: Last year, his wife, state Sen. Angela Paxton, filed for divorce on "biblical" grounds, citing adultery as one of the reasons.
Of course, many Republican voters at the state level saw the impeachment as nothing more than a political hit job, one echoing what's happened to President Donald Trump at the national level. But what far-right, already-convinced Republicans believe about Paxton is sort of beside the point: He needs turnout, and he needs to win over more moderate Republicans and maybe even some fence-sitters if he hopes to beat Talarico. It's possible Musk's cash infusion will help, but it's also possible a cash infusion of many millions of dollars won't be enough to rehabilitate Paxton's shitty image.
A poll from the University of Texas and Texas Politics Project conducted in August "contained four major warning signs for Paxton: a drop in his support from June, lagging GOP motivation to vote, worse favorability numbers than Talarico and Trump's approval being underwater in the state."
Scenes from New York: "When Gov. Kathy Hochul first ran for re-election, Republicans in New York tried to prey on fears over crime, rising inflation and illegal immigration to boost the chances of their ticket statewide in the critical 2022 midterms," reports The New York Times. "The strategy seemed to work. Republicans flipped four House seats in New York, while putting a scare into Ms. Hochul, who eked out a six-point victory over Lee Zeldin, then a Long Island congressman who now leads the E.P.A." This year, Republicans have picked Bruce Blakeman, the Nassau County executive, as the guy with the best odds of beating Hochul, and they're running on crime fears again. But it's not working so well.
The crime and public disorder is, to my mind, still a problem, but it's not as rampant as it once was during the peak pandemic years. And it's certainly not perceived as very bad right now.
The post Musk's Meddling appeared first on Reason Magazine.