‘THOUGHTFUL EDUCATOR:' DCNR remembers fallen park ranger
Alec Campbell, a resource ranger at Tyler State Park in Bucks County, was found dead Sunday after authorities said he went missing in the Neshaminy Creek on Friday.
DCNR posted a tribute to Campbell Thursday to Facebook, describing him as 'a thoughtful educator, drawing on his background in psychology and his experience as a devoted father to make meaningful connections with park visitors, volunteers, and students.'
'With an intense passion for life and an incredible ability to connect with people, Alec brought warmth, humor, and dedication to everything he did,' DCNR said. 'He was an avid disc golfer, hiker, and paddler who loved planting native species and spent countless hours restoring natural areas by removing invasives.'
'He guided many Eagle Scout and youth projects at Tyler and always found a way to engage his audience,' the agency added. 'He once was even described by a middle school group as 'super chill and funny,' which might just be the highest praise anyone could hope for.'
Governor Josh Shapiro had ordered flags to fly at half-staff in Pennsylvania on Tuesday in Campbell's honor. Flags were already ordered to half-staff Monday for Memorial Day.
'Lori and I are praying for the family and friends of Alec Campbell,' Shapiro said in a statement Sunday. 'As I told his wife Rena, we are eternally grateful for Alec's service to his Commonwealth. May his memory be a blessing.'
Copyright 2025 Nexstar Media, Inc. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed.
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Newsweek
2 days ago
- Newsweek
Veteran Separated from Family as USCIS Delays Green Card for Wife
Based on facts, either observed and verified firsthand by the reporter, or reported and verified from knowledgeable sources. Newsweek AI is in beta. Translations may contain inaccuracies—please refer to the original content. A U.S. veteran who now works for Intel has told Newsweek of his agonizing wait to bring home his wife and their 7-year-old daughter due to prolonged delays in processing his spouse's green card application. Russell John Campbell, 57, a Navy veteran and longtime Intel Corp. communications professional, is living alone in Oregon while his wife, Wasithee Campbell, and daughter remain in Thailand, unable to join him amid a U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services (USCIS) backlog. He has been waiting for nearly five months to hear anything, but could be holding out for 12 more months. "It is just unconscionable for the U.S. government to treat a citizen and veteran this way," Campbell told Newsweek in an exclusive interview. "They just don't care, and they are quite clear in saying so. It is disgusting and vile. This is not what I swore an oath to defend. This is just evil to keep a family apart like this for no reason," he added. The Application to Register Permanent Residence or Adjust Status, Department of Homeland Security, U.S, Citizenship and Immigration Services Form I-485. The Application to Register Permanent Residence or Adjust Status, Department of Homeland Security, U.S, Citizenship and Immigration Services Form I-485. Jon Elswick/AP Newsweek has contacted USCIS for comment via email. Why It Matters The case comes as USCIS faces a significant backlog of immigration cases, hitting a record 11.3 million pending applications. Immigration courts are overwhelmed, with a backlog exceeding 3.7 million cases, according to Syracuse University's Transactional Records Access Clearinghouse. Asylum-seekers often wait years for decisions on their cases. What To Know Campbell, who served from 1985 to 1989 as an Aviation Electronics Technician at NAS North Island in San Diego, moved to Thailand in 2010 for an Intel role managing corporate and government affairs across the Asia-Pacific region. Campbell married his wife on April 12, 2012, on the island of Koh Chang, Thailand. Their daughter was born on February 19, 2018, and is a U.S. citizen with a passport and Social Security number. His wife first received a U.S. tourist visa in 2015, visiting the United States two to three times for business and family visits. Wasithee was granted a green card in 2019; however, it was canceled by USCIS after the family relocated to Thailand due to employment opportunities for Campbell. In March 2025, Campbell accepted a position back at Intel as Global Content Strategy Manager, moving to Hillsboro within weeks. On April 3, he filed a new I-130 petition for his wife's green card. USCIS has told him that processing could take up to 17 months. Two humanitarian expedite requests—citing financial hardship, medical issues, and the impact on their U.S. citizen child—have been denied or ignored. He says he is still waiting to hear from the offices of Rep. Suzanne Bonamici and Sen. Jeff Merkley after writing to them. Campbell's wife suffers from abdominal ulcers and kidney stones, requiring treatment that would be covered under his U.S. health insurance. In Thailand, the cost is prohibitive, and she has no family nearby to help care for their daughter during recovery. Meanwhile, their daughter faces both delayed school enrollment in Oregon and nightly emotional strain from being apart from her father. "My daughter is my life," Campbell said. "I have an empty home, next to a park, waiting for my daughter to come play and make friends," he added. USCIS has provided no timeline beyond "up to 17 months," which Campbell says makes it impossible to plan for housing, school, and medical care. "Time passes, and we don't get it back. Being apart from her is the greatest pain I've ever known, because it is just so senseless," he said. Campbell and his family have complied with all legal requirements throughout the immigration process. The delays in reuniting the family illustrate the challenges faced by American citizens and veterans whose families are subject to protracted immigration backlogs.


Los Angeles Times
5 days ago
- Los Angeles Times
‘A continual assault.' How UCLA's research faculty is grappling with Trump funding freeze
Their medical research focuses on potentially lifesaving breakthroughs in cancer treatment, and developing tools to more easily diagnose debilitating diseases. Their studies in mathematics could make online systems more robust and secure. But as the academic year opens, the work of UCLA's professors in these and many other fields has been imperiled by the Trump administration's suspension of $584 million in grant funding, which University of California President James B. Milliken called a 'death knell' to its transformative research. The freeze came after a July 29 U.S. Department of Justice finding that the university had violated the civil rights of Jewish and Israeli students by providing an inadequate response to alleged antisemitism they faced after the Oct. 7, 2023, Hamas attack. The fight over the funding stoppage intensified Friday after the Trump administration demanded that UCLA pay a $1-billion fine, among other concessions, to resolve the accusations — and California Gov. Gavin Newsom said the state will sue, calling the proposal 'extortion.' Amid heightened tensions in Westwood, thousands of university academics are in limbo. In total, at least 800 grants, mostly from the National Science Foundation and the National Institutes of Health, have been frozen. UCLA scholars described days of confusion as they struggle to understand how the loss of grants would affect their work and scramble to uncover new funding sources — or roles that would ensure their continued pay, or that of their colleagues. While professors still have jobs and paychecks to draw on, many others, including graduate students, rely on grant funding for their salaries, tuition and healthcare. At least for the moment, though, several academics told The Times that their work had not yet be interrupted. So far, no layoffs have been announced. Sydney Campbell, a pancreatic cancer researcher and postdoctoral scholar at UCLA's David Geffen School of Medicine, said her work — which aims to understand how diet affects the disease — is continuing for now. She has an independent fellowship that 'hopefully will protect the majority of my salary.' But others, she said, don't have that luxury. 'It is absolutely going to affect people's livelihoods. I already know of people ... with families who are having to take pay cuts almost immediately,' said Campbell, who works for a lab that has lost two National Institutes of Health grants, including one that funds her research. Pancreatic cancer is among the most deadly of cancers, but Campbell's work could lead to a better understanding of it, paving the way for more robust prophylactic programs — and treatment plans — that may ultimately help tame the scourge. 'Understanding how diet can impact cancer development could lead to preventive strategies that we can recommend to patients in the future,' she said. 'Right now we can't effectively do that because we don't have the information about the underlying biology. Our studies will help us actually be able to make recommendations based on science.' Campbell's work — and that of many others at UCLA — is potentially groundbreaking. But it could soon be put on hold. 'We have people who don't know if they're going to be able to purchase experimental materials for the rest of the month,' she said. For some, the cuts have triggered something close to an existential crisis. After professor Dino Di Carlo, chair of the UCLA Samueli Bioengineering Department, learned about 20 grants were suspended there — including four in his lab worth about $1 million — he felt a profound sadness. He said he doesn't know why his grants were frozen, and there may not be money to pay his six researchers. So Di Carlo, who is researching diagnostics for Lyme and other tick-borne diseases, took to LinkedIn, where he penned a post invoking the Franz Kafka novel 'The Trial.' The unsettling tale is about a man named Josef K. who wakes up and finds himself under arrest and then on trial — with no understanding of the situation. 'Like Josef K., the people actually affected — the public, young scientists, patients waiting for better treatments and diagnostic tools — are left asking: What crime did we commit?' wrote Di Carlo. 'They are being judged by a system that no longer explains itself.' The LinkedIn post quickly attracted dozens of comments and more than 1,000 other responses. Di Carlo, who has been working to find jobs for researchers who depend on paychecks that come from now-suspended grants, said he appreciated the support. But, goodwill has its limits. 'It doesn't pay the rent for a student this month,' he said. Di Carlo's research is partly focused on developing an at-home test that would detect Lyme and other tick-borne diseases, which are on the rise. Because no such product is currently approved by the U.S. Food and Drug Administration, he said, people who've experienced a tick bite have to wait for lab results to confirm their infection. 'This delay in diagnosis prevents timely treatment, allowing the disease to progress and potentially lead to long-term health issues,' he said. 'A rapid, point-of-care test would allow individuals to receive immediate results, enabling early treatment with antibiotics when the disease is most easily addressed, significantly reducing the risk of chronic symptoms and improving health outcomes.' Di Carlo lamented what he called 'a continual assault on the scientific community' by the Trump administration, which has canceled billions of dollars in National Institutes of Health funding for universities across the country. It 'just ... hasn't let up,' Di Carlo said. Some professors who've lost grants have spent long hours scrambling to secure new sources of funding. Di Carlo said he was in meetings all week to identity which researchers are affected by the cuts, and to try to figure out, 'Can we support those students?' He has also sought to determine whether some could be moved to other projects that still have funding, or be given teaching assistant positions, among other options. He's not alone in those efforts. Mathematics professor Terence Tao also has lost a grant worth about $750,000. But Tao said that he was more distressed by the freezing of a $25-million grant for UCLA's Institute for Pure and Applied Mathematics. The funding loss for the institute, where Tao is director of special projects, is 'actually quite existential,' he said, because the grant is 'needed to fund operations' there. Tao, who is the James and Carol Collins chair in the College of Letters and Sciences, said the pain goes beyond the loss of funds. 'The abruptness — and basically the lack of due process in general — just compounds the damage,' said Tao. 'We got no notice.' A luminary in his field, Tao conducts research that examines, in part, whether a group of numbers are random or structured. His work could lead to advances in cryptography that may eventually make online systems — such as those used for financial transactions — more secure. 'It is important to do this kind of research — if we don't, it's possible that an adversary, for example, could actually discover these weaknesses that we are not looking for at all,' Tao said. 'So you do need this extra theoretical confirmation that things that you think are working actually do work as intended, [and you need to] also explore the negative space of what doesn't work.' Tao said he's been heartened by donations that the mathematics institute has received from private donors in recent days — about $100,000 so far. 'We are scrambling for short-term funding because we need to just keep the lights on for the next few months,' said Tao. Rafael Jaime, president of United Auto Workers Local 4811, which represents 48,000 academic workers within the University of California — including about 8,000 at UCLA — said he was not aware of any workers who haven't been paid so far, but that the issue could come to a head at the end of August. He said that the UC system 'should do everything that it can to ensure that workers aren't left without pay.' A major stressor for academics: the uncertainty. Some researchers whose grants were suspended said they have not received much guidance from UCLA on a path forward. Some of that anxiety was vented on Zoom calls last week, including a UCLA-wide call attended by about 3,000 faculty members. UCLA administrators said they are exploring stopgap options, including potential emergency 'bridge' funding to grantees to pay researchers or keep up labs such as those that use rodents as subjects. Some UCLA academics worried about a brain drain. Di Carlo said that undergraduate students he advises have begun asking for his advice on relocating to universities abroad for graduate school. 'This has been the first time that I've seen undergraduate students that have asked about foreign universities for their graduate studies,' he said. 'I hear, 'What about Switzerland? ... What about University of Tokyo?' This assault on science is making the students think that this is not the place for them.' But arguably researchers' most pressing concern is continuing their work. Campbell explained that she has personally been affected by pancreatic cancer — she lost someone close to her to it. She and her peers do the research 'for the families' who've also been touched by the disease. 'That the work that's already in progress has the chance of being stopped in some way is really disappointing,' she said. 'Not just for me, but for all those patients I could potentially help.'


Los Angeles Times
6 days ago
- Los Angeles Times
‘Silence is violence': Teachers, retirees, first-time activists stand up to immigration raids
'Thank you so much for showing up this morning,' Sharon Nicholls said into a megaphone at 8 a.m. Wednesday outside a Home Depot in Pasadena. As of Friday afternoon, no federal agents had raided the store on East Walnut Street. But the citizen brigade that stands watch outside and patrols the parking lot in search of ICE agents has not let down its guard—especially not after raids at three other Home Depots in recent days despite federal court rulings limiting sweeps. About two dozen people gathered near the tent that serves as headquarters of the East Pasadena Community Defense Center. Another dozen or so would be arriving over the next half hour, some carrying signs. 'Silence is Violence' 'Migrants Don't Party With Epstein' Cynthia Lunine, 70, carried a large sign that read 'Break His Dark Spell' and included a sinister image of President Trump. She said she was new to political activism, but added: 'You can't not be an activist. If you're an American, it's the only option. The immigration issue is absolutely inhumane, it's un-Christian, and it's intolerable.' There are local supporters, for sure, of Trump's immigration crackdown. Activists told me there aren't many days in which they don't field shouted profanities or pro-Trump cheers from Home Depot shoppers. But the administration's blather about a focus on violent offenders led to huge demonstrations in greater Los Angeles beginning in June, and the cause continues to draw people into the streets. Dayena Campbell, 35, is a volunteer at Community Defense Corner operations in other parts of Pasadena, a movement that followed high-profile raids and was covered in the Colorado Boulevard newspaper and, later, in the New York Times. A fulltime student who works in sales, Campbell was also cruising the parking lot at the Home Depot on the east side of Pasadena in search of federal agents. She thought this Home Depot needed its own Community Defense Corner, so she started one about a month ago. She and her cohort have more than once spotted agents in the area and alerted day laborers. About half have scattered, she said, and half have held firm despite the risk. When I asked what motivated Campbell, she said: 'Inhumane, illegal kidnappings. Lack of due process. Actions taken without anyone being held accountable. Seeing people's lives ripped apart. Seeing families being destroyed in the blink of an eye.' Anywhere from a handful to a dozen volunteers show up daily to to hand out literature, patrol the parking lot and check in on day laborers, sometimes bringing them food. Once a week, Nicholls helps organize a rally that includes a march through the parking lot and into the store, where the protesters present a letter asking Home Depot management to 'say no to ICE in their parking lot and in their store.' Nicholls is an LAUSD teacher-librarian, and when she asks for support each week, working and retired teachers answer the call. 'I'm yelling my lungs out,' said retired teacher Mary Rose O'Leary, who joined in the chants of 'ICE out of Home Depot' and 'No hate, no fear, immigrants are welcome here.' 'Immigrants are what make this city what it is … and the path to legal immigration is closed to everybody who doesn't have what, $5 million or something?' O'Leary said, adding that she was motivated by 'the Christian ideal of welcoming the stranger.' Retired teacher Dan Murphy speaks Spanish and regularly checks in with day laborers. 'One guy said to me, 'We're just here to work.' Some of the guys were like, 'We're not criminals … we're just here … to make money and get by,'' Murphy said. He called the raids a flexing of 'the violent arm of what autocracy can bring,' and he resents Trump's focus on Southern California. 'I take it personally. I'm white, but these are my people. California is my people. And it bothers me what might happen in this country if people don't stand firm … I just said, 'I gotta do something.' I'm doing this now so I don't hate myself later.' Nicholls told me she was an activist many years ago, and then turned her focus to work and raising a family. But the combination of wildfires, the cleanup and rebuilding, and the raids, brought her out of activism retirement. 'The first people to come out after the firefighters—the second-responders—were day laborers cleaning the streets,' Nicholls said. 'You'd see them in orange shirts all over the city, cleaning up.' The East Pasadena Home Depot is 'an important store,' because it's a supply center for the rebuilding of Altadena, 'and we're going out there to show our love and solidarity for our neighbors,' Nicholls said. To strike the fear of deportation in the hearts of workers, she said, is 'inhumane, and to me, it's morally wrong.' Nicholls had a quick response when I asked what she thinks of those who say illegal is illegal, so what's left to discuss? 'That blocks the complexity of the conversation,' she said, and doesn't take into account the hunger and violence that drive migration. Her husband, she said, left El Salvador 35 years ago during a war funded in part by the U.S. They have family members with legal status and some who are undocumented and afraid to leave their homes, Nicholls said. I mentioned that I had written about Pasadena Mayor Victor Gordo, who was undocumented as a child, and has kept his passport handy since the raids began. In that column, I quoted Gordo's friend, immigrant-rights leader Pablo Alvarado, director of the National Day Laborer Organizing Network. 'Full disclosure,' Nicholls said, '[Alvarado] is my husband.' It was news to me. When the raids began, Nicholls said, she told her husband, 'I have the summer off, sweetie, but I want to help, and I'm going to call my friends.' On Wednesday, after Nicholls welcomed demonstrators, Alvarado showed up for a pep talk. 'I have lived in this country since 1990 ... and I love it as much as I love the small village where I came from in El Salvador,' Alvarado said. 'Some people may say that we are going into fascism, into authoritarianism, and I would say that we are already there.' He offered details of a raid that morning at a Home Depot in Westlake and said the question is not whether the Pasadena store will be raided, but when. This country readily accepts the labor of immigrants but it does not respect their humanity, Alvarado said. 'When humble people are attacked,' he said, 'we are here to bear witness.' Nicholls led demonstrators through the parking lot and into the store, where she read aloud the letter asking Home Depot to take a stand against raids. Outside, where it was hot and steamy by mid-morning, several sun-blasted day laborers said they appreciated the support. But they were still fearful, and desperate for work. Jorge, just shy of 70, practically begged me to take his phone number. Whatever work I might have, he said, please call.