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Four members of Maine’s deaf community died in Lewiston in October 2023 in what is believed to be the deadliest mass shooting of deaf people in the U.S. The pain of that loss was magnified by the barriers to communication and information deaf survivors and loved ones faced in the immediate aftermath. Maine Public Radio , in partnership with the Portland Press Herald and Frontline PBS, presents “Breakdown:” a limited-series podcast about the deadliest mass shooting in Maine history. Episode 5 examines the outsize impact of the Lewiston shooting on those who are deaf and hard of hearing, how the community often feels forgotten and why the tragedy has become a catalyst for equity. BOBBI NICHOLS: All of a sudden I heard this noise. And it was so loud. It felt like this big glass chandelier had broke. [ambient music fades up] PATTY WIGHT, HOST: Some people who survived the deadliest mass shooting in Maine’s history recall the moment they knew something was wrong by what they heard. BEN DYER: All we heard was pop pop to start. And everyone kinda looked, kinda like, ‘Oh, did balloons pop? Was there a birthday party in the back room?’ ... And and then we heard the pop, pop and scream. HOST: But others that night also remember a different sensation. KYLE CURTIS, COMMISSION: “I felt the vibrations in the bar. The glasses at the bar shattered. And I was confused.” HOST: Kyle Curtis is deaf. He’s telling his story to an independent commission investigating the shooting. Like nearly all of the deaf people in this episode, his words are voiced by a female interpreter. Curtis was one of nine deaf men who were playing in a weekly cornhole league at Schemengees Bar & Grille in Lewiston on Oct. 25, 2023. KYLE CURTIS, COMMISSION: “I saw the bullets coming out of the gun. I could see the flashes in the muzzle. And I could see people falling.” HOST: Another deaf player in the group, Steve Richards Kretlow, says that it felt like something in the kitchen exploded. STEVE RICHARDS KRETLOW, COMMISSION: “I stood up at my table and looked to see what was happening and saw a gunman. I told my friends, ‘Run! Run! Hide. Be safe.’ And everybody scattered. I could feel the vibrations of the gun going off everywhere.” HOST: Kretlow runs, and he’s shot in the leg. He dives under a table and pretends he’s dead. Meanwhile, Kyle Curtis drops to the floor to try to escape the barrage. He crawls toward a door and makes it outside. It’s only then that he realizes he’s injured. KYLE CURTIS, COMMISSION: “And I felt kind of funny because I felt all warm and wet on my side, so I looked and a fragment had hit me ... and I was just kind of in shock. I couldn’t see any of my deaf friends anywhere. No one was coming out. And that scared me. I could only see hearing people.” HOST: Others try to help Curtis. They take off his shirt and use it to tie up his arm. When police arrive, a friend who can hear tries to help Curtis communicate. KYLE CURTIS, COMMISSION: “Because he knew and understood I was deaf, and so he was gesturing with me and sharing with the cop what had happened.” Kyle Curtis reacts during public comment at Lewiston City Hall during a public hearing before the state panel investigating the Lewiston mass shootings in March 2024. Russ Dillingham/Sun Journal HOST: Eighteen people died that night after the shooting at Schemengees and at a bowling alley across town. The state of Maine was reeling. And it was an especially difficult time for the deaf community. [piano theme music fades up] HOST: Four of the people killed were deaf. It’s believed to be the deadliest mass shooting of deaf people in the U.S. The pain of that loss would be compounded in the hours and days that followed, as deaf family members tried to find out what happened and locate loved ones. Some who were injured struggled to communicate with first responders and health care workers. And the wider deaf public had to fight for access to televised public safety information while a two-day manhunt was underway. It was a familiar experience for a community that often feels forgotten. But it’s further evidence, they say, that our systems are unprepared to meet their needs — in emergencies, health care, and the media. And they want that to change. From Maine Public Radio, The Portland Press Herald and Frontline PBS, this is Breakdown. I’m Patty Wight. Episode 5: ‘We’re still here.’ [theme music fades down] NIRAV SHAH, PRESS CONFERENCE: “... the Maine CDC is now reporting 2,913 cases of COVID-19 across the state ...” [guitar plucking music] HOST: It’s June 2020 and Nirav Shah, the director of the Maine Center for Disease Control and Prevention, is holding his regular televised briefing on COVID-19. NIRAV SHAH, PRESS CONFERENCE: “Right now, 26 individuals are currently in the hospital ... ” HOST: In the upper right-hand corner of the screen, there’s a guy with a trim beard — wearing a blazer — who’s interpreting the CDC’s presentation into American Sign Language. His name is Josh Seal. He’s deaf, and is one of just a few Certified Deaf Interpreters in Maine. Josh works with a hearing teammate who listens and signs to him, then he interprets for viewers. Dr. Nirav Shah (from left), director of the Maine Center for Disease Control, Gov. Janet Mills and American Sign Language interpreter Josh Seal during the last regularly scheduled coronavirus news conference Wednesday June 30, 2021, in the cabinet room of Maine State House in Augusta. Joe Phelan/Kennebec Journal For many deaf people in the U.S., English is not their primary language. It’s American Sign Language, or ASL. The two are not the same. ASL has its own vocabulary, grammar, and word order. Because ASL is Josh’s native language, his interpretation of the CDC briefings is the best way to provide the latest information on the spread of a new and deadly virus we know little about. But it was a much bigger audience than usual for Josh. LIZ SEAL: There he is, I mean, not just a regular private doctor’s office. No, he’s on the news. You know, it was pretty nerve racking for him. HOST: That’s Josh’s wife, Liz Seal, who’s also deaf. Their four kids are, too. She says that Josh had only started working as a Certified Deaf Interpreter shortly before the pandemic. LIZ SEAL: He had just left his job as an ed tech at a school, which he loved supporting young deaf children in elementary school and to give them a can-do attitude. HOST: Being an interpreter fit in with one of his life missions: making sure Maine’s deaf community had quick access to information — especially in an emergency. But information would be hard to come by in the aftermath of the shooting, even for Josh’s own family. Because he was one of the deaf men playing cornhole that night at Schemengees. [ambient music] HOST: Liz found out there had been a shooting through friends. LIZ SEAL: But there was no details. Just in general, there was a shooting. So I didn’t know what to do. HOST: Liz needs to find Josh. She gets in her car and meets up with deaf friends who are also searching for missing loved ones. There isn’t a lot of information in the hours after the shooting. But Liz says for the deaf and hard of hearing community, there’s even less. LIZ SEAL: We knew one was at this hospital. One was at the Armory, where apparently people were getting more information there. We call different hospitals. ‘Do you have my husband?’ Liz Seal, the widow of Josh Seal, in June 2024. Shawn Patrick Ouellette/Portland Press Herald HOST: She can’t get any information about Josh. Liz drives to hospitals and the Lewiston Armory, where survivors are initially brought. Her in-laws, who are hearing, also join the search. LIZ SEAL: And this went all through the night. ‘Where could he be?’ HOST: Liz is frantic. Everywhere she goes, she’s using text to communicate. Her in-laws know some sign language, and try to help. LIZ SEAL: What was interesting was that all these places, the Armory, the different hospitals, even the reunification center did not think to provide interpreters, did not think to call them when they were set up at the very beginning, even though they knew that there were deaf people involved. HOST: It’s unclear from the commission report exactly when first responders realized that deaf people were among the victims and survivors. But it found that when Lewiston police discovered some of the victims were deaf, they dispatched an officer who knew ASL to the Armory. What Liz remembers is sitting at a table at the reunification center and all at once several people start talking over each other. She doesn’t know what they’re saying. But her mother-in-law does. It’s about Josh. LIZ SEAL: Eventually they directed that to my mother-in-law, that at this point we assume he’s among the deceased. [ambient music fades up] HOST: Josh has most likely been killed. Liz is overcome with grief. LIZ SEAL: That was made much worse by the fact that my mother-in-law, who was the mother of my husband, had to also be the one to break the news to me. That retraumatized me again. HOST: As deaf loved ones in the community face communication barriers, two deaf men wounded at Schemengees also encounter problems at local hospitals. Steve Richards Kretlow is at one hospital, bleeding from a gunshot wound to his leg. To communicate with doctors, he says he needs an American Sign Language interpreter. But, as Kretlow explains to the independent commission investigating the shooting, he instead has to rely on Video Remote Interpreting, or VRI. It’s a device that connects to a virtual interpreter on a screen, such as a tablet. STEVE RICHARDS KRETLOW, COMMISSION: “It was just a screen with a person on it ... And I said, ‘No. I don’t, I don’t understand that well enough. I need an interpreter ... an actual live person.’ ... This system — VRI — it just keeps disconnecting in the middle of signs. And they didn’t know our local signs. Those interpreters are national interpreters so they don’t know our local signs and they didn’t know what I was trying to say, and she couldn’t catch up, and I was so frustrated.” Steve Richards Kretlow reads a prepared statement as his wife Heather holds it at Lewiston City Hall during a public hearing before the state panel investigating the Lewiston mass shootings in March 2024. Russ Dillingham/Sun Journal [ambient music fades up] HOST: Like many languages, ASL has regional differences and local dialects and signs. That’s part of why Kretlow struggles to communicate. STEVE RICHARDS KRETLOW, COMMISSION: “And they just kept using VRI, and I was missing most of every conversation. It was like I was missing 80% of what was being said.” HOST: It’s also ideal to have an in-person interpreter because ASL is a visual language. It uses the whole body, especially the hands and face. If you’re a hearing person, and are sick or in pain, think about how hard it can be to talk. Now imagine the same situation, only you’re deaf. And you have to communicate over video. MEGAN VOZZELLA: And you are laying on a bed, let’s say. The way it’s set up, you can’t see faces. If you’re in pain, you can’t access that information. HOST: That’s Megan Vozzella. She’s deaf. She’s advocated for her community since her husband, Steve Vozzella, who was also deaf, was killed in the shooting. MEGAN VOZZELLA: The medical professionals who are there are, you know, trying to move things out of the way. If you have a human, a person who is there who can adjust, like the interpreter can, that gives you access to that communication for all the parties who are there. HOST: There’s another disadvantage to VRI: it’s prone to connectivity issues. It can freeze or cut out if the Wi-Fi isn’t strong enough. That’s something I witnessed firsthand when I asked to see a VRI machine. MALVINA GREGORY: OK. So this is a remote interpreter unit. ... HOST: Malvina Gregory is standing in front of a rolling cart with a tablet mounted on a pole. Gregory is the director of interpreter and cross-cultural services at Portland-based MaineHealth. It’s the largest health care system in the state. MALVINA GREGORY: So I’m just going to tap and open up the call to find a sign language interpreter. HOST: Within moments, a friendly male interpreter appears on the screen. But as he explains VRI, his image freezes and his voice becomes garbled. VRI INTERPRETER: ... and I would be ready to go and I would say tilt the camera towards your patient ... [garbled] HOST: A weak Wi-Fi connection is the problem, says Gregory. MALVINA GREGORY: This is the frustration that some of the patients have — is that his image is freezing a little bit. Right, we’re getting digitization of it, um, it will drop out ... VRI INTERPRETER: Can you see my hands moving smoothly? MALVINA GREGORY: Yeah no, we can’t actually. It’s actually very blurred to us. [ambient music fades up] HOST: That glitchiness is what Kyle Curtis says he experienced the night of the shooting. He also had to rely on VRI while he was treated at a different hospital after he was hit by a fragment. KYLE CURTIS, COMMISSION: ” ... you only see half a sign, you miss half the sentence.” HOST: He’s testifying to the independent commission. KYLE CURTIS, COMMISSION: “They decided it was so bad there in that room, they moved me to a different room ... and it was worse there than it was before. They switched interpreters six different times on the VRI system to find somebody who could understand me. And I was very frustrated trying to explain things over and over with all of the, the um, disconnects. And I said I need an ASL — American Sign Language — interpreter.” HOST: Studies have linked poor communication to worse health outcomes in people who are deaf and hard of hearing. In their testimony to the commission, Curtis and Kretlow don’t say whether the communication gaps affected the care they received. But commission member Debra Baeder offers an observation: DEBRA BAEDER, COMMISSION: “What strikes me is you go through this incredible trauma. And then the gaps and lapses and problems with communication just compounds it. It definitely magnifies the horrible experience that you had.” Dr. Debra Baeder, a member of the Independent Commission to Investigate the Facts of the Tragedy in Lewiston, in the council chamber of Lewiston City Hall in May 2024. Russ Dillingham/Sun Journal HOST: “Yes,” Curtis answers. “I agree.” [piano music fades up] HOST: But it turns out, there were interpreters waiting outside Lewiston hospitals on the night of the shooting, trying to get in. They came after word spread rapidly through the deaf community that some of their members were among those killed and injured. But they weren’t let in for hours. NOEL SULLIVAN: We were denied access because they were in lockdown. HOST: Noel Sullivan is the president and CEO of the Pine Tree Society, which offers 24/7 ASL interpreting services. NOEL SULLIVAN: But we were trying to say, ‘But you have someone in there, we know you will not communicate with.’ And they said, ‘Oh, we have this iPad system, we use virtual.’ HOST: One hospital — Central Maine Medical Center — treated more than a dozen people who were injured. As their emergency room filled with patients, chief medical and operating officer John Alexander says the hospital also became overwhelmed with volunteers who wanted to help in whatever way they could — from interpreters, to former staff, to members of the community. JOHN ALEXANDER: And so trying to manage that, you know, in-pouring of assistance, which is great, and you know, certainly, when you reflect back on it is heartwarming. But in the moment, was really a lot to try to figure out, ‘OK, who are you? What are your credentials? What can you do? Where should you go?’ HOST: Even though it was a chaotic night, some say the communication gaps after the Lewiston shooting point to a larger systemic problem. ASL interpreter Amanda Eisenhart told the independent commission investigating the shooting that those gaps highlight an assumption in our culture that deaf people are not present. AMANDA EISENHART, COMMISSION: “This is because deaf people are chronically overlooked in public policy, procedure, and public safety practice. To assume that deaf people are not present in spaces is to continue to practice the social erasure of deaf lives.” [ambient music] HOST: More than 3.5% of the U.S. population is deaf or hard of hearing. That’s roughly 12 million people. In Maine, the estimate is more than 70,000 people. The state is home to some of the nation’s oldest institutions for the deaf. The Maine Association of the Deaf formed in the late 1870s. That’s around the same time that a school for the deaf opened in Portland. It’s still in operation, in a neighboring town and under a different name: the Governor Baxter School for the Deaf. The deaf community in Maine often describes itself as small and tight knit. Liz Seal says that they rely on each other to share information. LIZ SEAL: We’re the type of community that believes in collectivism. And what I know I’m going to tell you, what you know, you’re going to tell me. HOST: But Liz says the deaf community didn’t have the same access to public information after the shooting, even though state officials provided regular televised updates. MIKE SAUSCHUCK, PRESS CONFERENCE: “Thank you for joining us here this evening. My name’s Mike Sauschuck, I’m the commissioner from the Department of Public Safety here in Maine.“ HOST: At the first briefing, the night of the shooting, when the suspect was still at large — there was no ASL interpreter. MIKE SAUSCHUCK, PRESS CONFERENCE: “And this is a general caution to the public that at approximately 6:56 this evening, a couple of shooting incidents occurred here with multiple casualties in the city of Lewiston.” HOST: To the deaf community, it was a stinging reminder that they were an afterthought. And because English is not the first language for many deaf people, TV captions aren’t a substitute that work for everyone. Maine State Police Public Safety Commissioner Michael Sauschuck addresses the media on Oct. 27, 2023. Russ Dillingham/Sun Journal By the next day, there was an ASL interpreter at the briefings. But she wasn’t always visible to viewers. During a news conference Friday morning — a day and half after the shooting — police were still trying to find the suspect and rolled in large maps of the search area behind the lectern. That meant there was no place for the interpreter, Regan Thibodeau, to stand in view of video cameras. [ambient music fades up] HOST: I was at that news conference. I remember Thibodeau, visibly frustrated, hoisting herself on top of a hard wooden desk behind the maps, kneeling to try to get in the cameras’ view. But most of the time, you couldn’t see her. Afterwards, Thibodeau, who is deaf herself, said the shooting hit both the local and national deaf community hard — and they were trying to tune in. REGAN THIBODEAU: There are many people calling to tell me, the interpreter, ‘I can’t see you. What do I do to see you? ... Some channels are full coverage, sometimes they pan out and then I can’t see you. I don’t know what’s going on, I missed that information.’ HOST: All that members of the deaf community want, Thibodeau said, is to get the same information at the same time as everyone else — especially during a public emergency. REGAN THIBODEAU: These people live in our community. They live in our towns. This is a critical time and access is important. HOST: By that afternoon’s briefing, the message began to sink in. Public Safety Commissioner Sauschuck opened with this announcement: MIKE SAUSCHUCK, PRESS CONFERENCE: “For starters, let me just say, for the consideration of the four deaf victims and their family, we are requesting that the ASL interpreter is in all frames for language access here in Maine and the U.S. They are grieving and have a right to know the latest info in ASL.” HOST: That reminder was repeated at other news conferences about the shooting — including one held by President Joe Biden during his visit to Lewiston a week later. As Biden invited Maine Sen. Susan Collins to speak, Maine’s governor whispered in her ear just before she stepped to the microphone. SUSAN COLLINS, PRESS CONFERENCE: “Thank you very much, Mr. President. I’ve been asked to remind the cameras to include our interpreter in your shots ...” Maine State Police Public Safety Commissioner Michael Sauschuck speaks at a press conference in Lewiston on Oct. 28, 2023. ASL interpreter Regan Thibodeau is at right. Daryn Slover/Sun Journal LISA ROSE: I was very blown away by that. [ambient music fades up] HOST: Lisa Rose is the president of the National Association of the Deaf. She’s deaf herself and says that moment served as a powerful example. LISA ROSE: I had never seen someone at that level of government make sure that the screen is going to be accessible. HOST: In the months that followed, news stories and events drew positive attention to the deaf community and also recognized its losses. Maine’s popular minor league baseball team, the Portland Sea Dogs, held a Deaf and Hard of Hearing Awareness Night the following summer. Baseball has historic ties to deaf culture. In the late 1800s, several major league players who were deaf helped pioneer some of the hand signals that umpires still use to this day. And baseball was Josh Seal’s favorite sport. He was honored before the game started. ANNOUNCER, SEA DOGS GAME: “At this time, we’d like to take a moment to remember Josh Seal. Josh was a beloved leader in the state’s deaf community ...” HOST: Students from the Baxter School for the Deaf signed the national anthem while it was sung. Sea Dogs vice president Chris Cameron shows off a American Sign Language-designed Sea Dogs jersey Thursday, June 13, 2024. Shawn Patrick Ouellette/Staff Photographer ANNOUNCER, SEA DOGS GAME: “They are thrilled to showcase the beauty and authenticity of American Sign Language through this performance ...” HOST: The baseball team wore shirts emblazoned with Sea Dogs in ASL fingerspelling, and they were later auctioned off to support a camp for deaf and hard of hearing children that Josh started. [piano music] HOST: Liz Seal was at the game with their four children. She said this kind of awareness of the deaf community is what Josh worked for. LIZ SEAL: It’s been wonderful to raise awareness since the shooting ... you know, people thought that deaf and hard of hearing people already had full access, but then they learned in a crisis we do not. HOST: But along with the increased attention given to the deaf community, there were missteps. Roughly six weeks after the shooting, a task force to improve communication in health care settings for the deaf and hard of hearing met for the first time. The task force was established shortly before the shooting. Now, its work took on even greater importance. But the first time they meet, they run into a communication blunder. Liz Seal, the widow of Josh Seal, with her children (from left) Jayson, 13; Jaxton, 4; Sephine, 10; and Jarrod, 6, at their home Friday, June 14, 2024. Shawn Patrick Ouellette/Staff Photographer EMILY BLACHLY, TASK FORCE: “May I make one more comment before we move on about deaf community members not being able to see?” HOST: Task force member Emily Blachly, who’s deaf, points out that the livestream video of the meeting lacks an extra camera to focus on the interpreters. EMILY BLACHLY: “This forum is happening in, um, in spoken English for the most part, but the interpreters who are here for us in the room are not accessible to those who are joining online on Zoom because there’s no camera on them ... So this is an example of where those barriers happen just by public entities, so ...” [guitar strumming, piano fades up] HOST: After a brief discussion, the co-chair of the task force, Sen. Henry Ingwerson pauses the meeting. Roughly 30 minutes later, he resumes it with the interpreters now visible in one of the video frames. HENRY INGWERSON, TASK FORCE: “This demonstrates the work we have to do, in this, in this committee, this group.” HOST: In its report issued three months after the shooting, the task force recommended that health care providers at least attempt to get an ASL interpreter when requested. It also urged that health care providers take steps to prevent the overreliance on Video Remote Interpreting — VRI. But some advocates for the deaf say so far, little has changed. THOMAS MINCH: Any improvement? I have to say, honestly, not much. HOST: That’s Thomas Minch of Disability Rights Maine. He says he continues to get a steady stream of complaints from deaf patients who don’t have access to in-person interpreters at health care appointments. Instead, they have to use VRI. Thomas Minch speaks to the Sun Journal on Oct. 10, 2024, at the Maine Resiliency Center in Lewiston. Andree Kehn/Sun Journal THOMAS MINCH: And Oct. 25 was absolutely horrendous, of course, but it didn’t even drive the message home. And it’s like, why is this continuing? [xylophone music fades up] HOST: Others say there is progress being made on improving communication in health care. The state is undertaking an assessment of how many ASL interpreters are needed. One reason health care providers rely on VRI is that there’s a shortage of interpreters, both in Maine and across the country. State police released an internal review that says ASL interpreters should be considered necessary in, quote, “significant incidents.” And the Maine Association of the Deaf is meeting regularly with state officials to initiate changes, including training for first responders to better communicate with people who are deaf and hard of hearing. Director Matt Webster is deaf. He says that the Association wants to see improvements become policy. MATT WEBSTER: And now that things are in talks ... yes, I feel like it’s moving. It’s slow, but it’s moving. I see a commitment from people that I hadn’t seen before. HOST: The deaf community nationwide is watching Maine to see if there are any changes — and if the state could be a model. [keyboard music fades up] The motivation to make changes is real. But so is the concern that it won’t last. More than 25 years ago, the state of Maine issued a report assessing the needs of the deaf and hard of hearing population. Among the priorities? Better interpreter services and emergency communications — problems that still need to be solved. THOMAS MINCH: We don’t have high expectations. Because it’s a pattern. HOST: Again, Thomas Minch of Disability Rights Maine. THOMAS MINCH: It’s a pattern, a lifetime of patterns that we’ve all experienced, you know, something comes up, and then it’s great, and then it goes away. There’s been no stability in any of this improvement. It just quiets down again. HOST: This summer, I visited a camp in central Maine called the Pine Tree Camp’s Dirigo Experience. It’s a place where around two dozen kids get to come for a week to splash and swim and form lasting friendships. That’s important for any child — and especially for those who are deaf or hard of hearing. This camp is just for them. KEVIN BOHLIN: That was Josh’s vision. HOST: That’s Kevin Bohlin. Kevin is deaf and was friends with Josh. He helped him start the camp in 2022. KEVIN BOHLIN: Because he grew up in Maine. And he was essentially alone in his public school system, and he had very few opportunities year-round to meet other deaf and hard of hearing peers. HOST: Kevin says the camp is both a response and a solution to the communication barriers the deaf community faces. Here, no one feels left out. And sprinkled in with typical camp activities, like archery and nature walks, kids meet adult mentors and learn about potential careers — guidance that Kevin says deaf kids don’t always get. IZZY: I’m like, this place is so great. I love this. HOST: This is 13-year-old Izzy’s first summer at the Dirigo Experience camp. She’s speaking with her own voice and says she likes being with other kids who are deaf. IZZY: It kind of makes you feel like that — you’re not alone. Or you’re not different. HOST: That’s why it’s so important that things improve, says Kevin. Because it will have consequences for this generation of deaf kids. KEVIN BOHLIN: The changes I want to see, you know, is for them to never have to worry for a single day about getting access to communication. HOST: Josh Seal dreamed of that too. And for all deaf and hard of hearing kids to connect with one another and have the confidence to be themselves. Those dreams are now his legacy. [piano theme fades up] HOST: In our sixth and final episode: ARTHUR BARNARD, RALLY: “This is not about taking guns, OK? This is about doing the right thing and finding the right politicians who are willing to do the right thing more than they are afraid of losing their jobs!” CYNTHIA YOUNG, PRESS CONFERENCE: “There needs to be accountability for those actions not taken that led up to the 18 souls being lost, and also the loss of feeling safe and secure for the survivors of this tragic event. NICOLE HERLING, COMMISSION: “And my question is, what the hell are we going to do for the people who have traumatic brain injuries today? What are we going to do for their families who are experiencing it today?” HOST: Turning anguish into action. That’s next time on Breakdown. Breakdown is a collaboration between Maine Public Radio, the Portland Press Herald and FRONTLINE PBS, with support from Rock Creek Sound. Our reporters are Susan Sharon, Kevin Miller, and Steve Mistler. The producer is Emily Pisacreta. The show is edited by Ellen Weiss and Keith Shortall. Our executive producers are Mark Simpson and Erin Texeira. Sound design and mixing by Benjamin Frisch. Fact checking by Nicole Reinert. Legal support from Dale Cohen. Jane Hecker-Cain was the ASL interpreter for Liz Seal. Cid Pollard was the ASL interpreter for Megan Vozzella. Rebecca Stuckless was the ASL interpreter for Lisa Rose. Stacey Bsullak was the ASL interpreter for Regan Thibodeau. Julia Schafer was the ASL interpreter for Thomas Minch. Grace Cooney was the ASL interpreter for Kevin Bohlin and Matt Webster. Rick Schneider is the President and CEO of Maine Public Radio. Lisa Desisto is the CEO and Publisher of the Portland Press Herald. Raney Aronson-Rath is the executive producer and editor-in-chief of FRONTLINE. Breakdown is produced through FRONTLINE’s Local Journalism Initiative, which is funded by the John S. and James L. Knight Foundation. For an upcoming video translation of the podcast in American Sign Language, go to frontline.org. For additional reporting about Lewiston, visit mainepublic.org/breakdown, pressherald.com and frontline.org, where you can also stream the documentary Breakdown in Maine. If you are in crisis, please call, text or chat with the Suicide and Crisis Lifeline at 988, or contact the Crisis Text Line by texting TALK to 741741. We’re a new podcast and the best way to help us get discovered is to leave a five-star review wherever you get our show, and tell your friends. I’m Patty Wight. Thanks for listening. This story is part of an ongoing collaboration with FRONTLINE (PBS) and Maine Public that includes an upcoming documentary. It is supported through FRONTLINE’s Local Journalism Initiative , which is funded by the John S. and James L. Knight Foundatio Comments are not available on this story. Send questions/comments to the editors. « Previous
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Greg Gumbel dead at 78 as sports fans pay tribute to legendary broadcasterEXCLUSIVE TOMS Shoes founder Blake Mycoskie reveals suicidal depression as second wife Molly Holm files for divorce 18 months after lavish wedding By JOSH BOSWELL FOR DAILYMAIL.COM Published: 22:26, 6 December 2024 | Updated: 22:29, 6 December 2024 e-mail View comments Multi-millionaire TOMS Shoes founder Blake Mycoskie split from his second wife Molly Holm just 18 months after their lavish 'love festival' wedding after confessing he had contemplated suicide, DailyMail.com can reveal. Molly, 33, filed in a Marin County, California , court to divorce the unlucky-in-love businessman on October 21, just weeks after categorically denying rumors of their broken marriage. The filing came a week after Mycoskie revealed on his friend’s podcast that he had been battling severe depression for the past year and even considered killing himself at his darkest moments. Blake, 48, who is worth an estimated $400 million, has two children with his first wife Heather Lang and was helping raise Molly's six-year-old daughter from a previous relationship, Ella. DailyMail.com spoke to two sources close to the couple who said they split this summer, though Molly rubbished the claims when contacted in August, saying that they were 'on a beautiful journey together,' 'love each other a lot,' and 'we're great'. They marked their one-year anniversary in June, celebrating 12 months since their lavish Utah desert wedding at a $3,700-per-night hotel, with guests flown in by private jet. It was a spectacular and theatrical ceremony, with Blake and Molly arriving at the festivities on the backs of camels and later partying in a 70s psychedelic-themed disco. But by the time summer 2024 came around, rumor was spreading through the couple's friends that the relationship was getting rocky. Blake Mycoskie and Molly Holm announced their engagement in 2021 but broke things off temporarily just months after moving to Costa Rica together DailyMail.com can now reveal former model Holm, 33, has filed for divorce 18 months after the couple tied the knot at the luxurious Amangiri Hotel in Canyon Point, Utah Molly declined to comment when asked about the divorce. Brad did not immediately respond to approaches from DailyMail.com. Just a week before Molly filed divorce papers, Blake spoke out on his college buddy Tyler Ramsey’s podcast revealing he had been in a deep depression and even contemplated suicide. Blake said that in June he was ‘at the lowest possible point I’ve ever been in my life’, and had been ‘struggling with a pretty serious depression for over a year’. ‘Last April I was at the end of my rope. I didn’t really know what to do. I felt totally trapped,’ he said on the Painful Lessons Podcast on October 16. ‘I didn’t feel there was anything to look forward to in life. I was really consumed with these horrible dark thoughts. It was really scary.’ He said a psychiatrist ‘misdiagnosed’ him with bipolar type two, and put him on antipsychotic, mood stabilizing and antidepressant medications that he believes led him to become suicidal. Blake said he even tried electric shock therapy, but nothing worked. He spent five weeks at the Alternative to Meds Center in Sedona, Arizona weening himself off his medication with the help of another psychiatrist. The entrepreneur posted on Facebook about his struggle, saying that he was ‘not cured’ but improving. Court records show Molly, 33, filed in a Marin County, California court to divorce the unlucky-in-love businessman on October 21, just weeks after categorically denying rumors of their broken marriage Holm, a former model and investment fund manager, looked stunning in a lacy white wedding dress with a long veil and train and a sheer panel on its profile The 'madly in love' couple, pictured during their engagement party in November 2021, became engaged in September 2021 and had plans for Mycoskie to adopt Holm's five-year-old daughter Ella Pictures snapped by guests and posted on Instagram show an open-air dinner overlooking the desert sunset near the border with Arizona during the June 2023 wedding ceremony ‘Today, I feel like myself again and am committed to continuing my healing journey and rebuilding my life. While I'm not "cured," I'm on a path I believe will lead to lasting wellness,’ he wrote. One person close to the Mycoskies told DailyMail.com that their children were informed of Blake and Molly separating in early August. Read More EXCLUSIVE: Even the dog wore a bow tie! TOMS shoes founder Blake Mycoskie marries Molly Holm in lavish three-day 'love festival' wedding at luxury Amangiri Resort in Utah where bride and groom arrived on camelback - after temporarily splitting last year At the time, Molly protested that Blake was just away on a trip hiking the Grand Canyon. 'The kids were told something different, but it had nothing to do with that,' she told DailyMail.com. 'No papers are being filed and we aren't splitting up. There's people that we think are our friends, that are spreading rumors unfortunately. 'We love each other a lot. We've been on a beautiful journey together, and we're continuing that journey and we have a beautiful family.' They had been living in Costa Rica, but later moved to Marin County, California, near Molly's family. 'It's definitely not Costa Rica, but it's very beautiful,' she said of their new home that summer. 'We're near my family, and that's nice. I grew up here. We're great, we're living life. We're in Marin, and it's really hot.' Either way, by October, their feelings had cooled and their irreconcilable differences had got the better of them, with Molly filing court papers in Marin County. Their divorce may lead to a tricky financial unpicking, as Blake's $10million Marin mansion was moved from his trust to being held solely in Molly's name in January last year, according to property records. The serial entrepreneur and philanthropist founded Shoes for Better Tomorrows, now just TOMS, in 2006 after a trip to Argentina where he saw kids with no shoes and decided to donate a pair for each one sold. By 2019 the firm had donated 95 million pairs of shoes. It was valued at $625million in 2014 when Mycoskie sold 50 per cent to Bain capital. In 2019 he split with Heather, his then-wife and mother of his son Summit and daughter Charlie. Within a year he was looking for love again, even taking part in TCM reality show The Sexiest Bachelor in America. Life coach China Jones posted pictures from the event on Instagram and gushed over the 'incredible' three-day celebration, with the main ceremony being held on a big rock mesa under the cliffs in open air The luxury resort and venue boasts stunning views at sunset and sunrise over the canyon cliffs The lavish celebration were held at Amangiri Hotel in Canyon Point – a favorite among A-list celebrities and where rooms start at around $3,700 per night But he found his next partner off-screen when he started dating Molly that year. The two got engaged in September 2021. DailyMail.com previously reported an alleged hiccup in their relationship in May 2022 when friends said Blake and Molly temporarily split after realizing they became so 'wrapped up in each other' in a whirlwind romance that they needed to step back 'to concentrate on their kids'. Blake sold his Jackson, Wyoming, mansion for $65million, they moved to Costa Rica, and allegedly even planned for him to adopt her daughter Ella. But friends said they soon found their adventure-filled life left too little time for their combined three children. 'They told me, "we're good friends, and we just want to concentrate on our kids, because we got so wrapped up in each other",' one confidant told DailyMail.com anonymously. 'They were madly in love. And I think they just excluded their kids. 'He was going to adopt Ella. That probably both got them thinking about the reality of things. Like is she going to adopt his kids? Things just got weird. 'I think they didn't have enough time at the end of the day for their children. And they realized, we need to put the brakes on things and be great friends and parent our kids right now,' the friend added. Speaking to DailyMail.com this summer, Molly said they put their kids first throughout the relationship. At their June 2023 wedding they were the picture of a loving couple, surrounded by adoring guests. Mycoskie and Holm, who began dating in 2020, often shared photos of their family adventures on social media Mycoskie had sold his Jackson, Wyoming mansion for $65million to moved to Costa Rica with his then fiancée, and had reportedly even planned to adopt Molly's daughter Ella The desert nuptials were kicked off with the couple arriving on the backs of two camels, their two girls wearing frilly baby blue dresses and starry crowns and Holm in a black jumpsuit embroidered with moons and stars; their friends and family gathered to greet them. Pictures snapped by guests and posted on Instagram show a four-tiered chocolate wedding cake and an open-air dinner overlooking the desert sunset near the border with Arizona. Holm, who says she worked as an Investment Fund Manager at Highbridge Equity Partners and studied at UC Berkeley, wore a lacy white wedding dress with a long veil and train and a sheer panel on its profile. She wore light jewelry of two bracelets and moon-and-stars earrings. Blake wore a black tuxedo with a desert plant boutonniere. The newlyweds posed for photos by canyon cliffs with their dog. An insider told DailyMail.com that guests were flown in by private jet then bused to the location in 4x4s due to the rough desert terrain. 'The day they arrived there was a western saloon theme,' the source said. 'A lot of guests went horse riding over the desert. Then there was another event with a Moroccan bazaar theme. 'Molly and Blake arrived for the whole event on camelback – as you do. Mycoskie has two children from his previous marriage to Heather Lang. They are pictured together at a TOMS for Target launch event in 2014 'The wedding itself was held on a big rock mesa under the cliffs in the open air. 'Then there was a 70s-themed disco, complete with an illuminated dance floor. Everyone had psychedelic attire and it went late into the night.' The same month, Mycoskie had pledged $100million, a quarter of his net worth, to psychedelic therapies for treating mental health conditions. The entrepreneur said he hoped his donation would inspire others to invest in psilocybin, MDMA and other mind-altering drugs with potential mental health benefits. Life coach China Jones posted pictures from the event and gushed with praise for her friends. 'Coming down off the most unforgettable wedding weekend love festival that will forever be a favorite memory,' she wrote. 'Set in the breathtaking Utah canyons, it was nothing short of incredible. From the western saloon, Moroccan bazar, remote & stunning ceremony location, art car crawl and disco after party... not one detail was overlooked. 'The vision, creativity, and attention to detail was only matched by the caliber of people in attendance. I had so much fun meeting new friends and reconnecting with my lifelong crew of [mermaid emojis].' But now, just 18 months later, the fairytale has ended. Share or comment on this article: TOMS Shoes founder Blake Mycoskie reveals suicidal depression as second wife Molly Holm files for divorce 18 months after lavish wedding e-mail Add comment
SANTA CLARA – Practicing behind a patchwork line is not how Brock Purdy dreamed of spending his 25th birthday Friday, never mind that he just gifted 49ers linemen a caravan of trucks and sports-utility vehicles on two-year leases. The 49ers are poised to field their most inexperienced offensive line in at least coach Kyle Shanahan’s eight seasons. Monday night’s chore for whoever blocks: protect Purdy and clear lanes for ball carriers Isaac Guerendo and Deebo Samuel against the NFC-leading Detroit Lions at Levi’s Stadium. Injuries have so thoroughly depleted the Niners (6-9) that 3-of-5 spots could feature linemen making their 49ers’ starting debuts. The only healthy starters are center Jake Brendel and right guard Dominick Puni, who might have to shift to other spots to provide for the best five-man look. Left tackle Trent Williams and his backup, Jaylon More, both went this week on injured reserve, which is where left guard Aaron Banks is expected to land before Monday night’s 5:15 p.m. kickoff. Right tackle Colton McKivitz did not practice Thursday, after being limited by a knee issue, and versatile backup Spencer Burford has been out with a calf injury he sustained as the sub at left tackle in Sunday’s loss at Miami. Offensive linemen Ben Bartch and Jon Feliciano are on injured reserve. Nick Zakelj is expected to make the first start of his career, most likely at left guard. “I know it’s just an amazing opportunity to have,” Zakelj said. “I can’t wait to go grasp it and go out there, fly off the ball and let it loose.” Charlie Heck, poached Wednesday off the Arizona Cardinals’ practice squad, made 21 career starts for the Houston Texans from 2020-23, and Thursday acquisition Matt Hennessy made 22 starts as the Atlanta Falcons’ 2020-22 center. No other linemen have starting experience, including Zakelj, Austen Pleasants, Sebastian Gutierrez, Isaac Alarcon and undrafted rookie center Drake Nugent. If McKivitz is healthy, he’s an option to move to left tackle, where he made spot starts at left tackle in 2021 and ’22 in place of Williams. Burford, unbeknownst until last game, had practiced as the No. 3 left tackle most of the season. LYNCH’S STATE OF FRANCHISE General manager John Lynch, speaking for the first time since Sunday’s official elimination from the playoffs, is in the investigation process of examining the 49ers’ 2024 woes and potential cures. “I can’t believe we’re here, but we are. We have to accept that. We have to learn from that,” Lynch said on KNBR 680-AM. “We can’t just chalk it up to, ‘There were a lot of injuries.’ The team we’re playing, Detroit, they had a lot of injuries but they found a way. We have to look at the root, and we have been looking at the root causes. We’ll fix it.” One obvious issue is the 49ers’ inability to close out games, something that’s carried over from past playoff defeats to this season’s four NFC West defeats. Lynch noted that the absences of All-Pros Williams and Christian McCaffrey factors into that. “But we can’t chalk it up to just that. We have to go deeper,” Lynch said. “There are ways we could have gotten it done. When you have division opponents (down) multiple scores, you have to put people away, and that’s what we didn’t do this year. We have to own that. We have to get to the bottom of why exactly that happened, with every decision we make.” HEALTH CENTER Fullback Kyle Juszczyk did not practice because of illness. Juszczyk has played every game this season after taking a pay cut in the spring. He is aiming for his ninth straight Pro Bowl invitation. Running back Isaac Guerendo participated in a second straight practice and looks on track to make his third career start; he did not play in Sunday’s loss at Miami because of hamstring and foot injuries. Running back David Montgomery (knee) was the only player on the Lions’ active roster not to practice. Cornerback Terrion Arnold (illness) was limited after missing Thursday’s session. Full participants were guard Graham Glasgow (knee), wide receiver Kalif Raymond (foot) and linebacker Jalen Reeves-Maybin (neck). GAMEDAY GUIDE Levi’s Stadium parking lots are to open at 1:45 p.m. Stadium gates open 30 minutes later for club- and suite-ticket holders, with entry for all others starting at 3:15 p.m. Halftime entertainment will feature MIMS and Freedom Williams (from the C+C Music Factory). Tony Lindsay will perform the national anthem.
Tesla ‘gamifying’ driving with ‘X-box-style controller’ that plugs into car replacing steering wheel in new CybercabA s I write, there’s a window on my laptop screen that is providing a live view of a stampede. It’s logging the numbers of people joining the social network Bluesky . At the moment, the number of registered users is 20.5 million. By the time you read this there will be more than 30 million of them, judging by the rate that people are currently joining. The proximate cause of it is the role that Elon Musk, owner of X (née Twitter), played in the election of Donald Trump, when a significant proportion of the platform’s 200 million-plus users realised that they’d been had – that they had, in effect, been useful idiots for Musk on his path to the centre of political power. There had been an “Xodus” once before – in October 2022, when Musk took over Twitter – as people fled to a new, open-source network called Mastodon , but it was on a much smaller scale. At its peak in November 2022 it had 2.5 million users, but that number has dropped to just under 1 million now. The stampede to Bluesky is on an altogether bigger scale. The puzzle, in a way, is why it took so long for the penny to drop; after all, many X users have been hostile to Musk for quite a while. The answer, in a nutshell, was network effects. They may not have liked the platform, but that’s where everyone was. “Twitter was the place people in my business had to be,” wrote the Nobel laureate and economist Paul Krugman. “What I used Twitter for was to learn from and interact with people possessing real expertise, sometimes in areas I know pretty well, sometimes in areas I don’t, like international relations and climate policy.” But now Krugman is on Bluesky because, he says, it has suddenly “reached critical mass, in the sense that most of the people I want to hear from are now posting there. The raw number of users is still far smaller than X’s, but as far as I can tell, Bluesky is now the place to find smart, useful analysis.” I stopped using Twitter when Musk bought it, tried Mastodon (and was unimpressed) and only recently joined Bluesky. At the moment, it feels eerily like Twitter in its very early days, when the platform enabled one to plug straight into the thought-streams of people one admired. “For now,” as web veteran Ian Bogost put it last week, “Bluesky invokes the feeling of carefree earnestness that once – really and truly – blanketed the internet as a whole.” It does. What’s distinctive about it? Four things. Unlike Mastodon, it’s as easy as Twitter to use. There’s no overall algorithmic curation – you can “roll your own feed”, as someone put it – decide who you want to hear from. Every user is entitled to “free speech” but nobody gets “free reach” via a profit-driven algorithm. And finally, it runs on an open technical protocol that’s accessible to anyone; the underlying philosophy is that social networking is too important for any one company to control it. So anyone with the requisite technical smarts could set up their own network using the protocol. This doesn’t mean that network effects lose their power, but it could be that the momentum of the stampede away from X, plus the power of an open protocol, means that we are seeing the beginning of the “splintering of social media ”. If this has the effect of eroding the monopolistic grip on people’s attention currently enjoyed by Meta, X, LinkedIn and TikTok, then it’ll be a welcome development. At least people will then be freer to choose their favourite hypnotist. But it won’t solve the bigger problem – which is what social media is doing to us and to our societies. The technology is at worst toxic and at best disabling for a democracy’s public sphere. Humans are a social species, but – as Robin Dunbar pointed out aeons ago – there’s a cognitive limit (about 150) to the number of people with whom one can maintain stable social relationships, and it mostly boils down to around 15 souls with whom one has meaningful exchanges. As a species, we didn’t evolve to be constantly talking to everyone. Addiction to social media, though – as Ian Bogost points out – means that we have to pay attention to the multitudes that turn up in our algorithmically curated feeds. Bluesky may make those feeds more congenial, but it won’t change the fact that we are still reduced to communicating in channels with a bandwidth not much wider than that of smoke signals. Here’s where we went wrong Voters to Elites: Do You See Me Now? Interesting New York Times column by David Brooks. It’s a conservative’s apologia pro vita sua . What Decca did next Jessica Mitford’s Escape from Fascism. A nice essay by Noah McCormack in the New Republic on Mitford’s book Hons and Rebels . Things to come What the future looks like from here. Dave Karpf’s perceptive and realistic list of the consequences of Trump’s victory.
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NEW ORLEANS -- New Orleans police arrested on Friday a man accused of killing two people during a large parade where two separate shootings within an hour left two dead and at least 10 wounded. Curtis Gray, 19, faces two counts of second-degree murder tied to the Nov. 17 shootings along a crowded parade route, according to a news release from the New Orleans Police Department. Gray allegedly fatally shot Rasean Carter, 21, and Malachi Jackson, 19, at the Almonaster Avenue Bridge, authorities say. Carter, an aspiring photographer who lived in Marrero just across the Mississippi River from New Orleans, had planned to document the Nine Times Social Aid & Pleasure Club's annual outing and was accompanied by Jackson, his friend and uncle, Nola.com reported. The parade was part of New Orleans' long-running tradition of “second-lines” where revelers follow brass bands marching through the streets and has deep ties to the city's Black culture. The deaths of Carter and Jackson were among a series of recent lethal shootings in New Orleans. While most violence has been on the decline in the city since mid-2023 , there were three people killed and eight wounded in six shootings over the past weekend according to Nola.com . On Thursday, New Orleans police arrested two men, Darrell Fairley Jr., 18, and Cornelius G. Tillman, 19, in connection with a Nov. 30 double homicide in New Orleans East.
CNN's Bakari Sellers called out the Harris campaign staffers who appeared on 'Pod Save America' on Wednesday, as well as the podcast itself, following the Harris staffers' post-election interview. A group of Vice President Kamala Harris' campaign aides were accused by liberals of gaslighting and taking no accountability in a post-election podcast interview about what went wrong for Democrats in the election. "Pod Save America" host Dan Pffeifer spoke with Jen O'Malley Dillon, David Plouffe, Quentin Fulks and Stephanie Cutter in the Harris campaign's first major interview since the vice president's loss to President-elect Trump. The questioning and the defensive posture by the guests was sharply criticized by online progressives. "Listened to the @PodSaveAmerica bros interview the Kamala campaign team and it was....somewhere between disappointing and enraging. I would not hire these guys if I was running the next D campaign," Ben Yelin, a podcast host and law professor, wrote in reaction to the podcast. "The more I listen to this, the worse it gets. Fully discrediting. Every five minutes they reference the fact that the campaign was short, that they didn't have enough time. FIRST OF ALL, all of these guys, except Plouffe, were part of the Biden campaign, so they could have helped give Kamala more time by getting him to drop out earlier." The Harris aides complained about media coverage and repeatedly cited their time crunch of just over 100 days to put together a campaign, which was due to President Biden going effectively unchallenged in the Democratic primary and not dropping out until three weeks after a disastrous June debate with Trump. Social media critics piled on the aides who just lost an election that Democrats and members of the media repeatedly warned was the most consequential in history. MSNBC WAS ‘UNAWARE’ HARRIS CAMPAIGN GAVE $500K TO AL SHARPTON’S GROUP AHEAD OF FRIENDLY INTERVIEW Pollster Nate Silver also called out the aides on social media and said the staffers are "the most non-agentic people I've encountered in a position of comparable decision-making authority." "They don't even see themselves as victims so much as Non-Player Characters with no will of their own," he added. "I do think a narrative, 107 days... two weeks talking about how she didn't do interviews, which you know she was doing plenty, but we were doing in our own way, we had to be the nominee, we had to find a running mate, and do a roll-out, I mean there was all these things that you kind of want to factor in. But real people heard, in some way, that we were not going to have interviews, which was both not true and also so counter to any kind of standard that was put on Trump, that I think that was a problem," Dillon said during the podcast, prefacing the statement by saying she isn't a "media hater." She went on to say that the narrative was "completely bulls---." The excuses in the interview didn't go over well. "Maybe the macro headwinds & the late candidate swap were always going to be too much to overcome. But her top campaign brass talking about ‘what happened’ for 100 min & not saying anything they would’ve done differently in hindsight is insane," Adam Carlson, a former pollster, posted. He said in another post that he voted for Harris and that the commentary from the aides was frustrating. "Pod Save America" host Tommy Vietor even engaged with a critic who accused them of not learning a "single thing." Vietor and his fellow hosts are all alumni of the Obama administration. Dan Turrentine, host of "The Morning Meeting," said he had great respect for the Harris campaign team, noting they were dealt a difficult hand with the president dropping out of the race in late July. However, he added, "What cost Harris in 2019 is what cost her in 2024 - extreme caution, indecisiveness, fear of offending/making a mistake." "Rather than be bold, clear, nimble and aggressive, she was vanilla, small, hesitant and obfuscating. These facts hover, unspoken over the podcast," he added. CLICK HERE FOR MORE COVERAGE OF MEDIA AND CULTURE CNN's Bakari Sellers, a Harris supporter, said during an interview on the network on Wednesday that the podcast interview was "disappointing at best," panning "their lack of self-awareness, their lack of self-reflection." "It was reminiscent of a Kamala Harris interview: nothing is actually said. No one answers the question. No interview push back," Tricia McLaughlin, a Republican strategist, wrote of the Harris campaign aides' interview. Jack Schlossberg, the grandson of President John F. Kennedy, also shared his thoughts about the podcast, calling it "insulting." Jack Mirkinson, a reporter at The Nation, took issue with the aides' failure to bring up the Israel-Hamas conflict, and said, "the fact that they and their candidate backed a genocide merited not even one thought." Others described the podcast as a "painful listen" and pointed out that there was "zero accountability" from the aides. In the show's interview posted to YouTube, commenters accused the Harris aides of "gaslighting," and largely said the aides just "don't get it." Jon Favreau, another "Pod Save America" co-host, posted on X early on Wednesday defending the interview. "I think people need to decide if they're genuinely interested in finding out what went wrong in 2024 so Dems can win again, or if they're just going to reject any data or information that doesn't confirm all their political beliefs," he wrote. CLICK HERE TO GET THE FOX NEWS APP When New York Times reporter Astead Herndon referenced the interview as a "good ad for the importance of independent media," Favreau lashed out, "You ok? Have you not gotten enough credit for breaking the news that Joe Biden is old?" "You’d think you’d have more shame, but I understand this is just like a game of sims for you," Herndon replied on X. Hanna Panreck is an associate editor at Fox News.History Is Useless for Wall Street Pros Betting on Stocks Rally
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