logo
KY auditor sues governor to end impasse over financial help for kinship care families

KY auditor sues governor to end impasse over financial help for kinship care families

Yahoo15-05-2025

Michelle Tynes, of Hickory in Graves County, and her grandson, Ashton, are a kinship care family. An estimated 59,000 Kentucky children are being raised by relatives other than their parents. (Photo provided)
Kentucky Auditor Allison Ball has asked the Franklin Circuit Court to rule that the Beshear administration must implement an unfunded law passed in 2024 that aimed to give much-needed relief to kinship care families.
Ball, a Republican, filed a lawsuit Thursday after a year of back-and-forth between the Republican-controlled legislature and Democratic Gov. Andy Beshear's administration over Senate Bill 151.
The law — on paper but not yet in reality — allows relatives who take temporary custody of a child, when abuse or neglect is suspected, to later become eligible for foster care payments.
Ball's lawsuit names Beshear and Eric Friedlander, the outgoing secretary of the Cabinet for Health and Family Services (CHFS).
Ball's lawsuit, among other things, asks the court to declare that, 'to abide by their constitutional duty to execute the law, Governor Beshear and CHFS must do what it takes to execute all of the General Assembly's laws using the funding they have.'
Norma Hatfield, who is raising two grandchildren and is a longtime advocate for kinship care families in Kentucky, is 'thrilled' by Ball's lawsuit.
'I've been waiting for somebody to do something. It's just been extremely frustrating,' Hatfield told the Lantern. 'I am just thrilled that she's taken this on for these kinship families.'
Ball said in a statement that the suit is 'about doing what is right for Kentucky's most vulnerable children and their caregivers. They deserve transparency, accountability, and meaningful action.'
The Lantern has asked Beshear's office and the cabinet for comment.
CHFS officials said it would cost $20 million to implement the law, which was not appropriated by the General Assembly when it passed. Lawmakers have criticized the administration for not finding the money in its existing budget.
While the law has remained in limbo many Kentuckians raising minor relatives must make do without the level of government assistance that foster families receive.
The Beshear administration has cited the state Constitution and two court cases, including a 2005 state Supreme Court decision, that it says precludes the executive branch from spending money the legislature has not appropriated.
In her Thursday lawsuit, Ball calls Beshear's interpretation of that case, Fletcher v. Commonwealth, a 'tortured reading' of the law.
'As the policymaking body and holder of the power of the purse that determines the proper level of funding to give state agencies to carry out the Commonwealth's laws, the General Assembly says that Governor Beshear and CHFS have more than enough money to carry out SB 151 and must do so,' the lawsuit says.
'Flabbergasted:' Help for kinship care families passed unanimously. $20M price tag could derail it.
The legislature enacted a new two-year state budget this year but took no action to appropriate the money the Beshear administration insists is needed.
An estimated 59,000 Kentucky children are in what's commonly called kinship care. Research shows that staying with family has better outcomes for children, but government financial support for kinship care has been lacking in part because caregivers make an important decision hastily, under stress and without all the information they need.
When the state removes a child from a home, grandparents and other family members often choose to take temporary custody rather than have the child go into state custody. State custody is the first step toward foster care.
That first decision is permanent under current law which has excluded kinship caregivers who take temporary custody from ever receiving the $750 a month that foster parents receive for each child.
Still crusading for 'kinship care' families
Hatfield hopes this lawsuit can settle the debate over the 2005 Supreme Court decision for good, she said.
'If the cabinet and the governor are going to keep citing this, and the legislature doesn't agree with the interpretation that the cabinet and the governor's making, then we are going to have this problem in the future,' she said.
In October, Ball's office announced an inquiry into the issue aimed at discovering what funds, if any, the cabinet could use to implement the law.
In her lawsuit, Ball says the Beshear administration officials 'refuse to even cooperate' with the inquiry, using the same logic used to not implement SB151.
'To rectify this blatant disregard of their constitutional duty and their obstruction of the (Auditor of Public Account's) investigatory authority — obstruction that, to the APA's knowledge, no governor or executive branch agency has ever committed in the history of the Commonwealth — the APA is here to ask this court to remind Governor Beshear and CHFS of their constitutional duty to execute and obey the law,' the lawsuit states.
The impasse between the Democratic governor and Republican legislature on this issue sends just one message to Hatfield, she said: 'I see them saying, 'I won't move one inch, even though grandma's losing thousands of dollars for that child. I'm not moving one inch.''
That's 'shameful,' she said.
'Politically, isn't it better in the long run to show that you've stepped in for that grandmother, you've stepped in for that child, and you have a success story?' Hatfield asked. 'Instead of putting up a barrier saying, 'I am right and I do nothing'?'
SUPPORT: YOU MAKE OUR WORK POSSIBLE

Orange background

Try Our AI Features

Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:

Comments

No comments yet...

Related Articles

How Amy Coney Barrett is confounding the right and the left
How Amy Coney Barrett is confounding the right and the left

Boston Globe

time36 minutes ago

  • Boston Globe

How Amy Coney Barrett is confounding the right and the left

Get Starting Point A guide through the most important stories of the morning, delivered Monday through Friday. Enter Email Sign Up Now Trump is attacking the judiciary and testing the Constitution, and Barrett, appointed to clinch a 50-year conservative legal revolution, is showing signs of leftward drift. Advertisement She has become the Republican-appointed justice most likely to be in the majority in decisions that reach a liberal outcome, according to a new analysis of her record prepared for The New York Times. Her influence -- measured by how often she is on the winning side -- is rising. Along with the chief justice, a frequent voting partner, Barrett could be one of the few people in the country to check the actions of the president. Advertisement Overall, her assumption of the seat once held by Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg has moved the court's outcomes dramatically to the right and locked in conservative victories on gun rights, affirmative action and the power of federal agencies. But in Trump-related disputes, she is the member of the supermajority who has sided with him the least. That position is making her the focus of animus, hope and debate. In interviews, some liberals who considered the court lost when she was appointed have used phrases like, 'It's all on Amy.' When Justices Sonia Sotomayor and Elena Kagan agreed on nonunanimous decisions this term, Barrett joined them 82% of the time -- up from 39% of the time in her first term. Some of Trump's allies have turned on her, accusing the justice of being a turncoat and calling her -- a mother of seven, with two Black children adopted from Haiti -- a 'DEI hire.' Her young son asked why she had a bulletproof vest, she said in a speech last year, and her extended family has been threatened, including with pizza deliveries that convey a warning: We know where you live. 'We had too much hope for her,' Mike Davis, a right-wing legal activist with close ties to the Trump administration, said in a recent interview. 'She doesn't have enough courage.' This spring, on Steve Bannon's podcast, Davis tore into her in such crude terms, even mocking the size of her family, that Justice Neil Gorsuch, for whom Davis had once clerked, phoned him to express disapproval of his comments, according to people aware of the exchange. Trump has privately complained about her too, according to two people familiar with his thinking. Advertisement But she rarely abandons the other Republican appointees in the most significant cases. 'It's a mistake by ignorant conservatives and wishful liberals to believe she's moderating,' said Noah Feldman, a Harvard University law professor who befriended her when they clerked at the court. Like others who know her, he said that both the right and the left had misread her. 'She's exactly the person I met 25 years ago: principled, absolutely conservative, not interested in shifting . " Friends, former colleagues and people from the court describe the justice as more of a methodical problem solver than an architect with grand plans for the law. 'A law professor to my bones,' she said in a 2022 talk, referring to her years teaching at Notre Dame Law School. When others tried to draft her for the bench, she was uncertain about becoming a judge, according to those who know her well. She still maintains a tucked-away office at Notre Dame. Some on the right are turning her scholarly background against her, complaining that she is too fussy about the fine points of the law and sounding a rallying cry of 'no more academics' for future appointments. On the court, she stands somewhat alone. One of only two former law professors, she is also the least experienced judge, the youngest member of the group, at 53, and the only mother of grade-school children ever to serve. The sole current justice who was not educated at Harvard or Yale University, she is a Washington outsider and foreigner to the power-player Beltway posts that shaped most of her colleagues. Advertisement She strikes an earnest tone in talking about her job. 'The day that I think I am better than the next person in the grocery store checkout line is a bad day,' she said in a 2022 talk. Her apartness shows in her votes and her signature move of joining only slices of her colleagues' opinions. She agrees with most of the supermajority's outcomes, but sometimes writes to say they took the wrong route to their conclusion. (One person from the court called her the Hermione Granger of the conservatives, telling the men they're doing it wrong.) Or she joins the liberal justices but stipulates that she can't fully buy in. 'She hasn't found a team,' said Sarah Isgur, a legal podcast host, pointing to her habit of marking where she departs from conservative colleagues, and to a recent death penalty ruling in which she was sitting 'in the middle of that decision.' But the Trump administration's conflict with the courts and pushing of constitutional boundaries may force her to take a more decisive stance. Of the three justices at the center of the court, where the most influence lies, she is the only one without a long trail of views on how much power a president should have -- the issue at the heart of nearly all these cases. 'She doesn't have 10 years to mellow into it,' Feldman said. 'Now is the crisis.' The professor and the beltway One morning in April, the justices formed a nine-person frieze of contrasts as they heard oral arguments in Mahmoud v. Taylor, over whether parents of public elementary school students are entitled to religious exemptions from lessons involving books about LGBTQ+ people. Alito, quick to favor exemptions, clashed with Sotomayor, who was skeptical. As she spoke, Alito shut his eyes and leaned far back in his chair. Advertisement Barrett composed herself into a portrait of someone in listening mode, eyes trained, chin resting on hands. She asked open-ended, just-trying-to-understand questions, then sharper ones, moving in on a factual hole in the school's argument and politely forcing the lawyer to admit it. By the time the justices rose, American parents seemed likely to gain more control over the ideas their children encounter in public school. Her queries made a similar impression when she arrived as a student at Notre Dame Law three decades ago: She was so incisive that several instructors said they were learning from her. She won a clerkship with Justice Antonin Scalia but then chose the quiet work of a law professor. Not the hotshot kind: 'She wasn't trying to break big new ground,' recalled Joseph P. Bauer, her civil procedure teacher and, later, fellow faculty member. 'She is not going to present an argument that shifts the paradigm, or reconceives ways of looking at things, or makes big moves.' The courses she taught were about the rules of the road -- evidence, procedure, the fine-grained reading of laws. In her own scholarship, she delved into questions that even some academics considered too nerdy to answer. Mark McKenna, a former faculty member, said, 'I remember people pushing her, 'Does anyone care about these things?'' Although others envisioned her on the bench, she was not sold. By 2017, when a seat opened up on the 7th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals, covering three Midwestern states, she had a stack of teaching awards and a brimming family life, including a young child with Down syndrome. William Kelley, a Notre Dame colleague with Washington connections, encouraged her but figured she would not pursue it, he said. Advertisement 'Attention, power, cool things, elitism -- she has zero interest,' he said of his friend, who once served on the university's parking committee. But she said yes. During Senate confirmation hearings Sen. Dianne Feinstein, D-Calif., asked her a maladroit question about her Catholicism. 'The dogma lives loudly within you,' the senator said, implying that her rulings would flow from Rome. It was insulting -- and lucky. The nominee became an instant lodestar for religious women. The White House counsel's team made mugs emblazoned with her face and Feinstein's words. That year, Donald F. McGahn II, the head of that office, showed up at her judicial investiture. Six months later, Trump was interviewing her for the Supreme Court seat that went to Judge Brett Kavanaugh. She had been on the bench for only a year and barely had a record. Two years later, in 2020, she was nominated before Ginsburg was even buried. Though the presidential election was only six weeks away, Republicans raced her through the confirmation process, four years after they blocked President Barack Obama's nominee on the grounds that an election was coming in eight months. Trump's comments about Barrett in 2020 and his more recent complaints were relayed by several people who requested anonymity to share confidential information. Harrison Fields, a White House spokesperson, said that Trump 'may disagree with the court and some of its rulings, but he will always respect its foundational role.' The ramrod-straight jurist had little in common personally with Trump. 'When I think of Amy, I think of someone deeply devoted to family and faith, who does not seek out the limelight, who is humble and just wants to quietly do the work,' said Amanda Tyler, a law professor at the University of California, Berkeley; former clerk to Ginsburg; and longtime friend to Barrett. To lawmakers, the nominee stressed her independence. But the president had already said the justices he appointed would be 'automatic' votes to overturn Roe v. Wade. On the public stage, certain facts (her large family and membership in a religious community that had once called women leaders 'handmaids') overshadowed others (when she became a federal judge, every member of her clerkship class, liberals included, endorsed her). Partisans said she stood for their greatest hopes or worst fears. She was confirmed without a single Democratic vote. The new justice arrived at a Supreme Court that was operating under pandemic conditions and still in mourning. 'I didn't know how I would be received,' she would later say. Liberals were unsure how the court would ever again garner the five votes necessary to prevail in a case. Barrett set her own path in the first major case she heard. In Fulton v. Philadelphia, the justices considered whether the city could exclude a Catholic agency from its foster care system because it refused to work with LGBTQ+ couples. Alito had long sought to overturn a 1990 precedent, written by Scalia, that said religious beliefs were not a basis for refusing to comply with generally applicable laws -- say, ones banning drug use. A year earlier, four conservative justices signaled that they were ready to undo the decision and expand religious rights. Now they appeared to have the votes. But Alito's effort failed. The court settled on a unanimous bottom line, requiring the city to do business with the agency but skirting bigger questions and dividing on the reasoning. Alito wrote a furious 77-page concurrence. 'The court has emitted a wisp of a decision that leaves religious liberty in a confused and vulnerable state,' he wrote. Barrett countered in just three paragraphs, explaining that she was skeptical of the precedent but wanted to know what could replace it. Others inside and outside the court took notice: She was willing to confound expectations. An independent streak To many Americans, the conservative supermajority can look like a unified front reshaping the law through blunt force. Internally, the coalition is more fractured -- six people debating how quickly to move, how far to go and whether public perception matters. Barrett has favored a more deliberate approach than some of her colleagues. In classroom lectures, she used to say that the country had bound itself to the Constitution the way Odysseus had tied himself to the mast of his ship, to resist whatever political sirens swam up. 'She wants to be seen as apolitical,' said Sherif Girgis, a Notre Dame faculty member. He argued that she was sending a message in the neutral-sounding lines of her opinions: 'The method made me do it, the theory made me do it, not my policy preferences.' Although Scalia, her mentor, is remembered as a leader of the legal right, he also surprised the public at times. He famously signed onto an opinion that said burning the American flag was protected by the Constitution. 'Justice Scalia used to say, and I wholeheartedly agree, that if you find yourself liking the results of every decision that you make, you're in the wrong job,' Barrett said in 2024. 'You should sometimes be reaching results that you really dislike because it's not your job to just be deciding cases in the way that you'd like them to be seen.' As a junior justice, she is rarely assigned high-profile opinions. But she has defined herself through her concurrences, particularly ones that argue the other conservatives are going off track. Several times, she has told Justice Clarence Thomas that he leans too heavily on history in making decisions, including last year, when the court rejected a lawyer's attempt to trademark the phrase 'Trump Too Small.' Although Barrett agreed with the outcome, she wrote that Thomas' reasoning was faulty, in part because 'the historical record does not alone suffice' as a basis for the decision. She was drawing a line on how far originalism, the dominant method of interpretation on the legal right, could go. The differences between Barrett and Alito are deeper, say people who have worked with them, as well as outsiders who see them as foils in a debate over how to interpret and shape the law. Alito, 75, is in a hurry to take advantage of the conservative dominance on the court, barely disguising his annoyance at times when the other conservatives don't go along with him. Barrett, who is likely to have a much longer future at the court, measures every move. 'We can see from her opinions that she's a careful, precise thinker, and she's been thrust into this very volatile environment,' said Ed Whelan, a conservative legal commentator. In Barrett's first weeks on the court, soon after arguments in the foster care case, the court heard the third major Republican challenge to Obama's health care law. Alito voted to overturn it. Barrett and others took the position that the suit was invalid because the plaintiffs lacked standing. As his colleagues were declining to remedy what Alito saw as an egregious problem, he once again wrote a blistering critique. In a patent case, he and Barrett wrote dueling dissents, both claiming that Scalia would have favored their positions. That term, he was pushing to hear Dobbs v. Jackson Women's Health Organization, the case that would eventually overturn the federal right to abortion. Barrett initially voted with him, but voiced concerns about taking on such a big issue so soon after her arrival at the court, then switched to a no, according to two people familiar with the process. Alito and three other male justices, the minimum to accept a case, greenlighted it and bet correctly that she would vote with them on the ultimate decision, upending a right that had stood for a half-century. Alito's criticisms have been amplified by outsiders on the right who accuse Barrett of being conflict-shy -- a 'trimmer' who goes partway, in that universe's parlance. Some fear she is a 'drifter' like Justices Sandra Day O'Connor and David Souter, who were appointed by Republican presidents but moved left. (Justices on the ideological move have tended to come from outside Washington.) She holds conservative principles but is reluctant to act on them, critics charge. In a politically fraught case from Idaho last year, she spoke for the two other swing justices, Roberts and Kavanaugh, in dismissing the case and temporarily allowing emergency abortions. Alito wrote that her reasoning was 'patently unsound.' After Barrett's second term, her agreement on outcomes with Alito slid from 80% to 62%, according to the analysis prepared for the Times, by Lee Epstein and Andrew D. Martin, both of Washington University in St. Louis, and Michael J. Nelson, of Penn State. At the same time, Barrett was forging bonds with Sotomayor and Kagan. For them, nearly all roads to victory run through the justice from South Bend, Indiana. From the beginning, Sotomayor has treated her warmly, offering a congratulatory call after her confirmation, the first from the court; Halloween candy for her children; and a gift for her daughter's 18th birthday, according to Barrett's speeches. The new justice's first-ever dissent was with two of the liberals, and she has described how happy she was to speak for the group. In April at the court, Barrett and Sotomayor, along with Justice Ketanji Brown Jackson, helped lead a celebration of two federal judges' civil rights work. Initially, the mother of seven appeared to have little in common with Kagan, who had cracked senators up at her confirmation hearing with a joke about spending Christmas at a Chinese restaurant. Some conservatives who have worked at the court are wary of Kagan, because of her record of crafting compromises and narrowing decisions with which she disagrees, and her practice of gathering internal intelligence about the views of her colleagues to see where decisions are going. Kagan, though, is the only other academic on the court. She also votes with conservatives more than Sotomayor. When Barrett wrote her critique of Thomas' approach in the 'Trump Too Small' case -- which amounted to a declaration that some versions of originalism went too far -- Kagan signed on. But few of Barrett's alliances with liberals have come in marquee cases. 'People are treating her as a cipher and projecting liberal desires on her, like we want her to be like John Paul Stevens or Souter,' said Melissa Murray, a New York University law professor. 'I'm waiting for a case in which her break with some of the other conservatives really makes a difference,' said Michael C. Dorf, a law professor at Cornell University. The glare of the spotlight This spring, days after the menacing pizza deliveries to Barrett's relatives, authorities received a threat to her sister, who lives in South Carolina. 'I've constructed a pipe bomb which I recently placed in Amy Coney Barrett's sister's mailbox at her home,' the note said, according to a police report. The bomb was made of 'a 1x8-inch threaded galvanized pipe, end caps, a kitchen timer, some wires, metal clips and homemade black powder,' the note said, adding, 'Free Palestine!' The mailbox was empty, but the incidents caused 'terror and grief' throughout the family, Bruce Nolan, an uncle, said in an interview. Barrett has said she was trained by her father to control her emotions, and in public, she presents a picture of judicial poise. But friends say that while she embraces the intellectual parts of the job, the degree to which her life has been turned upside down has stunned her. She wasn't really fully prepared for 'the shift into being a public figure,' she said in 2022. In the 1990s, Barrett worked as a clerk for an institution that required far less security, where a chief justice would hop into clerks' cars for spontaneous tennis matches on public courts. In recent years, those on the bench have drawn protests at their homes and faced an assassination attempt and threats. A convicted Jan. 6 rioter said last year that he wanted to slit Barrett from 'ear to ear.' She limits excursions, friends say, because she's been screamed at in public. In an interview, Davis said that because of his friendship with Gorsuch, he was tempering his comments about Barrett. 'Out of respect for him I toned down my rhetoric,' he said, adding that he was sorry for mentioning her children. Amid the hostility, Barrett plans to speak directly to the public, through a book to be published in September. According to several people who have read drafts of the book, 'Listening to the Law,' she is trying to bring the public inside the court, show how it works and how she decides cases. In major ones, Barrett has been in the majority more than any of her colleagues, a measure of her rising influence. Last month she effectively decided a case by recusing herself. The court was weighing whether government money could fund the nation's first religious charter school. Barrett stepped aside, presumably because a friend was an adviser to the school. The court deadlocked 4-4 in what could have been a precedent-setting case, and some conservative activists pounced on Barrett for walking away. There will be even more focus on her in coming months as she and her colleagues deal with a conveyor belt of cases involving much of the president's agenda. So far, Barrett's record on Trump-related votes is short but suggestive. Usually, justices show what scholars call 'appointment bias,' leaning slightly in favor of the presidents who appointed them. She has gone in the other direction. Because emergency orders are tentative, and not every vote is disclosed, the evidence is limited. But she is the Republican appointee who appears to have voted least often for Trump's position, based on three cases decided last year stemming from his attempts to subvert the 2020 election, as well as 14 emergency applications since then arising from his sentencing in New York and recent blitz of executive orders. Now, one group of cases will determine whether and how Trump's deportations can proceed. Another concerns whether lower-court judges can issue nationwide injunctions, which some have used to block or delay Trump's actions. Questions about the legality of Trump's tariff hikes, his strike at Harvard, the firing of federal workers, along with other actions by the Department of Government Efficiency, and his attempt to ban transgender people from the military have been or soon will be subject to the justices' scrutiny. In explaining how she reaches her decisions, Barrett has said that she is open to persuasion, particularly in response to a strong oral argument. 'I have changed my mind,' she said last year, 'even at the Supreme Court.' About the Data: The data in this article come from an analysis prepared for the Times by Lee Epstein and Andrew D. Martin, both of Washington University in St. Louis, and Michael J. Nelson, of Penn State. The researchers used the Supreme Court Database, which contains information about every Supreme Court case since 1791. More information on how decisions are coded 'liberal' or 'conservative' can be found on the database website. This article originally appeared in

Amid storm of protests, slim majority favors Trump's approach to immigration: poll
Amid storm of protests, slim majority favors Trump's approach to immigration: poll

New York Post

time42 minutes ago

  • New York Post

Amid storm of protests, slim majority favors Trump's approach to immigration: poll

Despite weekend protests that swept the country and recent rioting that dogged Los Angeles, a slim majority of voters still favor President Trump's handling of immigration, a new poll found. Although nearly tied, Trump notched a 51% approval to 49% disapproval rating for his performance on border security and immigration issues, an NBC News Decision Desk survey found. Earlier this month, riots broke out in Los Angeles after US Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) conducted operations in the country's second-largest city. That prompted Trump to federalize and deploy California's National Guard. Advertisement Then, this weekend, progressive groups orchestrated national protests, fueled by the Army's 250th anniversary parade, though immigration dominated many of those demonstrations. Last week, Trump teased plans to recalibrate his immigration approach and concentrate on deporting criminals rather than service workers who are residing in the country illegally. 4 Immigration has long been one of President Trump's strongest issues. REUTERS Advertisement 4 White House deputy chief of staff for policy Stephen Miller has widely been seen as a driving force for the administration's tough on immigration policies. Getty Images Immigration remains Trump's strongest issue, according to the poll. His overall approval rating clocked in at 45% approve to 55% disapprove, which mirrors the outlet's findings in April. The poll also pegged internal Republican divisions over the precise goal of the One Big Beautiful Bill Act, mirroring some of the internal friction within the congressional GOP. In a near tie, 40% of respondents wanted the emphasis to be on 'ensuring that the national debt is reduced,' while 39% wanted to focus on tax reduction and 21% prioritized maintaining current spending levels on Medicaid, the poll found. Advertisement A majority of both Independents (53%) and Democrats (79%) wanted the emphasis to be on maintaining Medicaid levels. Overall, the House-passed version of the One Big Beautiful Bill Act would raise the national deficit by $3 trillion over the next decade, according to a Congressional Budget Office estimate. The measure slashes spending, primarily on Medicaid and Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP), by a net $1.25 trillion as an offset to the tax cuts. 4 Many protests over the weekend railed against ICE specifically. Zuma / Advertisement Several fiscal hawks in the Senate, such as Sens. Rand Paul (R-Ky.), Ron Johnson (R-Wis.), Rick Scott (R-Fla.) and Mike Lee (R-Utah) have pushed for more cuts. Concern about the legislative bundle's impact on the deficit led to a scorched-earth tirade from tech mogul Elon Musk against President Trump earlier this month. The House-passed version of the One Big Beautiful Bill Act slaps work requirements onto Medicaid, which provides health insurance to over 70 million low-income Americans. Coupled with other modifications to Medicaid, Republicans are eyeing around $700 billion in savings from the program over a 10-year period. Upwards of 7.8 million Americans could lose their health insurance due to the reforms, the Congressional Budget Office has projected. 4 Congressional Republicans are working to get the One Big Beautiful Bill Act across the finish line. AP The Medicaid provisions have proven to be a sticking point for Sen. Josh Hawley (R-Mo.) and have drawn scrutiny from Sens. Lisa Murkowski (R-Alaska) and Susan Collins (R-Maine) as the Senate GOP mulls the mammoth bill. The One Big Beautiful Bill Act is intended to be Trump's signature legislative achievement. GOP leadership is hoping to get the megabill to Trump's desk by the Fourth of July, though that timeframe looks increasingly tough to achieve. Advertisement This week, key Senate committees are set to unveil revised versions of the bill. After it clears the Senate, it will need to go back through the House before it can get to Trump's desk. The NBC News Decision Desk Poll sampled 19,410 adults between May 30 and June 10 with a margin of error of plus or minus 2.1 percentage points.

Search for suspect in shooting of 2 Minnesota lawmakers leads to vehicle in rural area
Search for suspect in shooting of 2 Minnesota lawmakers leads to vehicle in rural area

Politico

time44 minutes ago

  • Politico

Search for suspect in shooting of 2 Minnesota lawmakers leads to vehicle in rural area

BELLE PLAINE, Minnesota — Authorities searched a vehicle on a rural road outside Minneapolis on Sunday that they believe had been used by the man wanted in the shootings of two Democratic lawmakers, as a state on edge struggled to make sense of the brazen political violence that left one leader dead. Former House Speaker Melissa Hortman and her husband, Mark, were killed in their Brooklyn Park home early Saturday. Sen. John Hoffman and his wife, Yvette, were injured at their Champlin home, about 9 miles away. Authorities named 57-year-old Vance Boelter as a suspect, saying he wore a mask as he posed as a police officer, even allegedly altering a vehicle to make it look like a police car. More than 24 hours after authorities first confronted him outside Hortman's home, Boelter was still on the loose after fleeing on foot. The FBI issued a reward of up to $50,000 for information leading to his arrest and conviction. They circulated a photo taken Saturday of Boelter wearing a tan cowboy hat and asked the public to report sightings. Investigators found a cowboy hat near the vehicle and were working to determine whether it belongs to Boelter. Law enforcement officers were searching the area, including nearby homes. The officials could not discuss details of the ongoing investigation and spoke to The Associated Press on condition of anonymity. The search was happening in rural Sibley County, roughly 50 miles southwest of Minneapolis, where Boelter had a home with his wife and five children. Residents in the area received an emergency alert about the located vehicle that warned them to lock their doors and cars. A crowd of officers were seen congregated on a dirt road near the abandoned dark sedan believed to have been used by Boelter. Doors on both sides of the car were splayed open, with discarded items scattered near the vehicle. Some officers broke off and walked into a wooded area off the road. The car was later towed away. 'We believe he's somewhere in the vicinity and that they are going to find him,' U.S. Sen. Amy Klobuchar of Minnesota said Sunday on NBC's 'Meet the Press.' 'But right now, everyone's on edge here, because we know that this man will kill at a second.' The shootings come as political leaders nationwide have been attacked, harassed and intimidated amid deep political divisions. Lawmakers said they were disturbed by the attacks as Twin Cities residents mourned. Brightly colored flowers and small American flags were placed Sunday on the gray marbled stone of the Minnesota State Capitol along with a photo of the Hortmans. People scrawled messages on small notes including, 'You were our leader through the hardest of times. Rest in Power.' Pam Stein came with flowers and kneeled by the memorial. It made Stein emotional to think about Hortman, whom she called an 'absolute powerhouse' and 'the real unsung hero of Minnesota government.' 'She had a way of bringing people to the table and getting things done like no one else could do,' said Stein, a retired lawyer. The Hoffmans were recovering from surgery, according to their nephew, Mat Ollig. Authorities have not yet given details on a motive. A list of about 70 names was found in writings recovered from the fake police vehicle that was left at the crime scene, the officials said. The writings and list of names included prominent state and federal lawmakers and community leaders, along with abortion rights advocates and information about healthcare facilities, according to the officials. A Minnesota official told the AP that lawmakers who had been outspoken in favor of abortion rights were on the list. The official spoke on the condition of anonymity because the investigation was ongoing. The attacks prompted warnings to other state elected officials and the cancellation of planned 'No Kings' demonstrations against President Donald Trump, though some went ahead anyway, including one that drew tens of thousands to the State Capitol in St. Paul. Authorities said the suspect had 'No Kings' flyers in his car. Law enforcement agents recovered several AK-style firearms from the suspect's vehicle, and he was believed to still be armed with a pistol, a person familiar with the matter told AP. The person could not publicly discuss details of the investigation and spoke on condition of anonymity. Boelter is a former political appointee who served on the same state workforce development board as Hoffman, records show, though it was not clear if or how well they knew each other. Around 6 a.m. Saturday, Boelter texted friends to apologize for his actions, though he didn't say what he had done. 'I'm going to be gone for a while. May be dead shortly, so I just want to let you know I love you guys both and I wish it hadn't gone this way. … I'm sorry for all the trouble this has caused,' he wrote in messages viewed by the AP. Police first responded to reports of gunfire at the Hoffmans' home shortly after 2 a.m. Saturday and found the couple with multiple gunshot wounds. Local police from Brooklyn Park were assisting with the call and decided to proactively check on Hortman's home nearby, Brooklyn Park Police Chief Mark Bruley said Saturday. There, they encountered what appeared to be a police vehicle and a man dressed as an officer leaving the house. Officers confronted him, he fired at them and officers returned fire. The suspect then retreated back into the home and fled on foot, Bruley said. He left behind the vehicle designed to look like a police car where authorities later found writings. On social media, Gov. Tim Walz remembered Hortman Sunday as, 'The most consequential Speaker in state history.' Hortman, 55, had been the top Democratic leader in the state House since 2017. She led Democrats in a three-week walkout at the beginning of this year's session in a power struggle with Republicans. Under a power-sharing agreement, she turned the gavel over to Republican Rep. Lisa Demuth and assumed the title speaker emerita. Hortman used her position as speaker in 2023 to champion expanded protections for abortion rights, including legislation to solidify Minnesota's status as a refuge for patients from restrictive states who travel to the state to seek abortions — and to protect providers who serve them. The couple had two adult children. Hoffman, 60, was first elected in 2012 and was chair of the Senate Human Services Committee, which oversees one of the biggest parts of the state budget. He and his wife have one adult daughter.

DOWNLOAD THE APP

Get Started Now: Download the App

Ready to dive into the world of global news and events? Download our app today from your preferred app store and start exploring.
app-storeplay-store