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The Journal
a day ago
- Politics
- The Journal
Former IRA member self-deports from US over fears of detention under Trump administration
A FORMER IRA member who had lived in the United States for four decades has 'self-deported' back to Ireland, saying he feared dying in an immigration detention cell under the Trump administration. Matthew Morrison, 69, originally from the Brandywell area of Derry, left the US on 21 July, flying one-way from Cleveland to Dublin with his wife. His decision came after years of uncertainty over his immigration status and renewed fears of deportation following Donald Trump's return to the White House. 'I would bite the dust in an ICE holding cell,' Morrison told The Marshall Project before leaving Missouri, where he had worked for 20 years as a psychiatric nurse. 'There is nothing to stop them from deporting me to Ecuador, South Sudan or whatever. It's really gotten insane here. It's crazy what they are doing now, the Trump administration. You know what I mean?' Morrison, who uses a cane after multiple strokes, first moved to St Louis in 1985 after serving ten years of a 20-year sentence for attempted murder during the Troubles. Convicted in 1976 after an IRA raid on a Royal Ulster Constabulary officer, he had been imprisoned in Long Kesh, where he became a senior IRA figure and witnessed the hunger strikes. His case has long been politically charged, the Marshall Project has said. Matthew Morrison's U.S. immigration case was once used by the Clinton administration to help solidify peace in Northern Ireland. In mid-July, the 69-year-old fled the U.S. rather than risk detention. 'I would bite the dust in an ICE holding cell,' Morrison told The Marshall Project - St. Louis. [image or embed] — The Marshall Project ( @ ) August 6, 2025 at 5:00 PM Advertisement In 2000, the Clinton administration terminated deportation proceedings against Morrison and five other former IRA prisoners. Then-President Bill Clinton said at the time that removing the threat of deportation would 'contribute to the peace process in Northern Ireland', while stressing he did not condone their past actions. However, the men were never placed on a path to US citizenship and continued to face restrictions, including regular check-ins with immigration authorities and the need to renew work permits. In June, Morrison attended one such appointment in St Louis, where he was photographed before being allowed to leave. Stories of immigrants being detained at routine check-ins heightened his fears, especially with his work authorisation due to expire in October. His departure has left behind grown children, grandchildren and friends in Missouri. His daughter Katie told The Marshall Project that 'even though he's still alive, I feel like I am grieving.' 'It's a huge loss for me and my children,' Katie said. The Trump administration announced in May that undocumented migrants would be offered $1,000 (€858) and paid travel costs if they 'self-deported'. Campaigners estimate there are around 50,000 undocumented Irish people in the US. 'I've come full circle,' Morrison said before leaving. 'I came here as an immigrant and I am leaving as an immigrant, despite everything in between. The whole thing is a crazy, stressful situation.' Readers like you are keeping these stories free for everyone... A mix of advertising and supporting contributions helps keep paywalls away from valuable information like this article. Over 5,000 readers like you have already stepped up and support us with a monthly payment or a once-off donation. Learn More Support The Journal


Sunday World
a day ago
- Politics
- Sunday World
Ex-IRA man flees US after 40 years over deportation fears
'There is nothing to stop them from deporting me to Ecuador, South Sudan, or whatever' A former IRA member who had been living in the US for 40 years has 'self-deported' back to Ireland over fears that he might be picked up by US Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE). Derry man Matthew Morrison whose previous deportation proceedings were terminated during the Clinton administration, took a one-way flight back to Dublin in July. 'I would bite the dust in an ICE holding cell,' the 69-year-old told The Marshall Project - St Louis before he left the US. 'There is nothing to stop them from deporting me to Ecuador, South Sudan, or whatever. Morrison with his American wife Sandra Riley Swift News in 90 Seconds - Aug 8th "It's really gotten insane here. It's crazy what they are doing now, the Trump administration. You know what I mean?' According to Irish Central, Morrison, who is from the Brandywell in Derry, was 16 years old when he marched in the civil rights demonstration on Bloody Sunday in 1970. Morrison described how Bloody Sunday when British soldiers opened fire on unarmed civilians, killing 13 people, was a "watershed moment of great significance" which has played a part in him join the Irish Republican Army. As a student at the New University of Ulster in 1975, he and two other students were arrested, charged, and convicted in a British non-jury court of the attempted murder of an RUC man. He served ten years of 20 year prison sentence in Long Kesh, where he was one of the highest-ranking members of the IRA. While in prison he corresponded with American woman Francie Broderick and when he was released in 1985 they married a week later. After having two children together they were divorced, and Morrison later remarried to another American woman, Sandra Riley Swift. He remained based in Missouri, where he worked as a nurse for the next 20 years. Morrison who wrote in in 1993 how he no longer had any connection with the armed struggle in Ireland, added that should he and his family be forced to return, they would face "significant danger." In the summer of 2000, Morrison was among the six Irish nationals who had their deportation proceedings terminated by US Attorney General Janet Reno in the wake of the Good Friday Accord. . The move was welcomed by then-US President Bill Clinton, who said: "While in no way approving or condoning their past criminal acts, I believe that removing the threat of deportation for these individuals will contribute to the peace process in Northern Ireland." However, he was not permitted to apply for a green card or US citizenship, and in June attended a scheduled check-in with US Citizenship and Immigration Services in St Louis. After stories emerged of immigrants being arrested at such check-ins, Morrison's son Matt (37) told The Marshall Project: 'We were terrified that they were just going to take him right there. Matt added: 'He has to live under that fear of somebody knocking on the door and dragging him out of the house, just like they did in Derry when he was young. 'I hate it. I am just worried about him. Until recently, I hadn't heard him cry about it.' At the appointment, Morrison was photographed and was free to go but with his work authorisation set to expire in October, he boarded a one-way flight from Cleveland to Dublin on July 21, with his wife. Leaving behind his grown children, his grandchildren, and the life he had built in the US, he told The Marshall Project: 'I've come full circle. 'I came here as an immigrant, and I am leaving as an immigrant, despite everything in between. "The whole thing is a crazy, stressful situation.'


New York Times
2 days ago
- Health
- New York Times
When Drug Rehabs Prey on the Patients They Claim to Serve
REHAB: An American Scandal, by Shoshana Walter By now, the opioid crisis has yielded a substantial body of journalism, with a particular emphasis on the role of the pharmaceutical business in stoking the flames. At this point, it is widely understood that the deadly epidemic was created not by cartels and street dealers alone but also by a legal and regulated industry, consisting of name-brand drugmakers, distributors and chain pharmacies. Such corporations have agreed to pay around $50 billion in settlements to state and local governments to fight the crisis. Much of that money will go toward drug treatment and rehab, as a consensus has formed around the idea that addiction should be addressed more as a medical matter than a criminal one. But will this approach work, and who will benefit? Treatment is an industry too, one whose troubling place in the epidemic has garnered much less attention than pharma's. Shoshana Walter's 'Rehab: An American Scandal' brings some needed scrutiny to bear. Walter, a reporter for The Marshall Project who covers criminal justice, paints a picture of a broken treatment system that is more shadowy than the prescription-drug industry, with more obscure players, but just as capable of taking advantage of patients while purporting to help them. In braided chapters, she tells the stories of four Americans enmeshed in the rehab apparatus. Two of her subjects are patients, of different races and social stations, who wanted help but found themselves in recovery programs that ranged from inadequate to outright inhumane and corrupt. A third is a mother who was driven 'just insane from grief,' as a lawyer close to her said, after her son died of an overdose at a sober-living home, and who became an aggressive gadfly agitating for crackdowns on dodgy, profit-hungry rehab centers. The last is a surgeon who was arrested in 2014 in connection with liberally prescribing Suboxone — even though the drug, despite a history of controversy, is now considered the gold standard for medication-assisted treatment of opioid addiction. Notwithstanding some poignant passages, the prose in 'Rehab' doesn't dazzle; it's marred by some limp language, strained transitions and a weak epilogue. When Walter widens her lens to discuss the flaws of the treatment system at large, she suggests that a real solution would require an overhaul of the social safety net and the elimination of racial inequity. This may be true, but it is not an especially fresh or practicable prescription, and at times she seems to fault policymakers in the rehab arena for failing to clear that very high bar. Want all of The Times? Subscribe.


Newsweek
6 days ago
- Politics
- Newsweek
Nurse in US for 40 Years Self-Deports—'It's Really Gotten Insane'
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. Matthew Morrison, a 69-year-old Irish immigrant and nurse in Missouri who became an immigration example in the late 1990s, left for Ireland on July 21 after living in the United States for 40 years due to fears of removal by the Trump administration. Why It Matters Morrison's self-deportation has brought further attention to the complicated realities faced by long-term undocumented immigrants in the U.S., especially those with historic convictions or high-profile political backgrounds. His case, uniquely tied to historic U.S.–Ireland relations, was previously referenced during the Clinton administration as part of U.S.'s efforts to support the Northern Ireland peace process. Morrison's departure also underscores the anxiety and uncertainty experienced by noncitizens who fear changes in immigration enforcement policies, particularly those perceived to be at higher risk during political shifts. What To Know Morrison worked for roughly 20 years as a psychiatric nurse supervisor in Missouri, including stints at a children's hospital and several state mental health facilities. He also presented at the St. Louis County Police Academy on topics including mental health and de-escalation tactics. He told The Marshall Project that he voluntarily left the U.S. due to fear of detention by U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) under President Donald Trump's administration. "I would bite the dust in an ICE holding cell," Morrison said prior to going home to Ireland. "There is nothing to stop them from deporting me to Ecuador, South Sudan or whatever. It's really gotten insane here. It's crazy what they are doing now, the Trump administration. You know what I mean?" Morrison told The Marshall Project that although his work authorization expires in October, he didn't want to spend the next few months in anxiety worrying about being deported. On July 21, he and his wife reportedly boarded a one-way flight from Cleveland to Dublin and left behind a life in the St. Louis area that includes grown children, grandchildren and friends. "I've come full circle," Morrison said. "I came here as an immigrant and I am leaving as an immigrant, despite everything in between. The whole thing is a crazy, stressful situation." Morrison first arrived in the U.S. in the mid-1980s after serving time in prison in Northern Ireland due to his involvement with the Irish Republican Army (IRA) during "The Troubles." In 1985, he married his American pen pal, Francie Broderick, and had two children, Matt and Katie. Morrison later remarried to his current wife, Sandra Riley Swift. He once served as a symbolic figure in American–Irish diplomacy. The former member of IRA previously spent 10 years in prison, convicted of attempted murder in a 1976 raid on a British barracks. Other ex-IRA men, all in the New York area, faced deportation for similar reasons. In 1995, Morrison's wife flew to Belfast while President Bill Clinton was in the region, attempting to garner his attention and protect him from deportation, according to the Associated Press. By 1997, the family received more than $70,000 in donations to help with legal fees. The case for Morrison and others like him drew support from local and international lawmakers, notably due to IRA members being characterized by the U.S. government as terrorists. The Missouri Legislature passed a resolution in 1996 urging the Immigration and Naturalization Service to drop deportation proceedings against him. Members of the Derry City Council in Northern Ireland followed suit across party lines, approving a resolution urging Clinton to suspend his deportation. Morrison's struggle won support from countless Americans, including neighbors in this suburban St. Louis community to state legislators to members of Congress. The Irish Northern Aid, a nonprofit organization that helps families of Irish political prisoners, and the Ancient Order of Hibernians also have come to his defense. In 2000, the Clinton administration ultimately terminated the deportation process against Morrison and five others. Then-Attorney General Janet Reno said in a statement that she had been advised by Secretary of State Madeleine Albright to drop deportation proceedings to "support and promote the process of reconciliation that has begun in Northern Ireland." Clinton at the time said the termination was "in no way approving or condoning their past criminal acts." However, the ex-president echoed the sentiment of contributing to peace in Europe. Thousands of people gather at an anti-racism rally in the city center of Belfast, Ireland, on August 10, 2024, following a week of disorder across the province. Thousands of people gather at an anti-racism rally in the city center of Belfast, Ireland, on August 10, 2024, following a week of disorder across the province. PAUL FAITH/AFP via Getty Images What People Are Saying Matthew Morrison's son, Matt, 37, to The Marshall Project about his father's scheduled check-in with U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services in June in St. Louis: "We were terrified that they were just going to take him right has to live under that fear of somebody knocking on the door and dragging him out of the house, just like they did in Derry when he was young. I hate it. I am just worried about him. Until recently, I hadn't heard him cry about it." Morrison's daughter, Katie, to The Marshall Project: "Even though he's still alive, I feel like I am grieving. It's a huge loss for me and my children." What Happens Next? Swift has a house in St. Charles, Missouri, as well as family in the U.S., The Marshall Project reported. After helping Morrison transition into an apartment in the town where he grew up, she wrote in a social media post that she's going to travel between both countries for a while.


CBS News
27-07-2025
- Health
- CBS News
A mom says an "everything bagel" caused her to fail a drug test. The hospital reported her to child protective services anyway
A new mother from Alabama is warning pregnant patients after she says eating an "everything bagel" for breakfast before giving birth to her second child upended her family last spring. It all stemmed from the unexpected results of one urine drug test — a routine test given to thousands of maternity patients across the country. It illustrates the findings of a joint investigation between "CBS Sunday Morning" and The Marshall Project that found the percentage of false positive results from urine drug tests to be as high as 50%. "It was almost like an out-of-body experience. I mean, I truly could not believe that it was happening," Katie, of Huntsville, who asked to only be referred to by her first name, told "CBS Sunday Morning." She was shocked to learn she tested positive for opiates. The bagel Katie ate was seasoned with poppy seeds, which come from the same plant cultivated for the production of opiates like morphine and codeine and can trigger a false positive test result for opiates. The fact that poppy seeds can cause a false positive test result is well documented. In fact, the U.S. Department of Defense even issued a warning in 2023 to service members that "consumption of poppy seed products could result in a codeine positive urinalysis result." A 2001 Supreme Court ruling determined that maternity patients cannot be tested for illegal drugs without their informed consent or a valid warrant if the test's sole purpose is to obtain evidence of criminal conduct for law enforcement purposes. But many hospitals routinely test patients, arguing the tests have a medical purpose. Katie agreed to what she believed to be a routine drug screening, simply thinking she had nothing to worry about. "I signed and said, 'Yes, that's fine,'" Katie, who took the drug test before giving birth, explained. "I didn't take any over-the-counter medicine. I didn't take Tylenol." The practice of drug testing pregnant patients before giving birth dates back to the 1980s crack epidemic and has continued in more recent years amid today's opioid epidemic. There were an estimated 54,743 overdose deaths involving opioids in 2024, data from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention shows. According to a review by The Marshall Project, hospitals in at least 27 states across the U.S. are required by law to alert child welfare authorities to a positive drug test or potential exposure — even before a second, more definitive test can be given to the mother to ensure it wasn't a false positive. This often leads to long and stressful investigations that can turn a family's life upside-down. Hours after giving birth at Crestwood Medical Center, Katie feared both of her children could be taken away, when a member of the Alabama Department of Human Resources showed up in her hospital room to discuss her positive drug screen. The state social worker asked Katie to sign a safety plan, a written agreement between a parent and CPS that outlines specific steps to be taken to ensure the safety and protection of a child amid an ongoing investigation. "Safety plans are developed to protect children from safety threats when the parents'/primary caregivers' protective capacities are insufficient. Safety plans are based on identifiable safety threats and coupled with diminished parental/primary caregiver protective capacities which place the child at present or impending danger," the department's administrative code states. Katie said she was told both of her children would be removed from her custody if she didn't sign the safety plan. Overwhelmed by the terrifying thoughts racing in her head, Katie signed the plan. For nearly a month, Katie said she was only allowed monitored time with her children. And although she was breastfeeding her newborn, she still had to leave her home every night when everyone was asleep and only return in the morning when she could be supervised. "I would leave the house and I would, I mean, scream in my car because I was so devastated to leave her," said Katie, apologizing for choking up. "It was torture; it was pain I've never felt before." In a statement to "CBS Sunday Morning," Crestwood Medical Center said its health care workers conduct a urine drug screen on all patients admitted for labor and delivery "to help assess any potential medical needs of the mother and newborn." If a test is positive, the hospital said it immediately orders a confirmatory test, and notifies the Department of Human Resources in compliance with Alabama State Law. "We understand that false positive results can occur and make every effort to keep mother and child together in the hospital until a confirmatory test result is received. In these situations, our physicians, our neonatal care team and DHR work collaboratively on appropriate safety plans considering all of the information available about the mother and newborn at the time," Crestwood said. Katie said the medical center did order a second confirmatory test in her case, but health care workers had already called the Alabama Department of Human Resources, triggering an investigation. Confirmatory drug tests are sent off to a laboratory since they require a more thorough analysis. It can take up to 5 business days after receiving the sample for the lab to process and send results. By the time the second round of drug test results arrived, showing both Katie and her baby were clear of any substances, the state-run agency's child welfare probe was well underway. Katie claims the negative results weren't enough to stop the investigation, but the Department of Human Resources closed the case after a month, when she and her husband hired an attorney. Dr. Kelley Butler, a family medicine doctor in San Diego, California, called situations like Katie's "entirely unfair." "Let's also be clear: one positive urine toxicology does not equal a substance use disorder by the DSM-5 criteria," Butler explained, referring to a diagnostic tool used by mental health professionals to help diagnose certain conditions or disorders. "All it says is this person was exposed to something that made this test positive. Hello! As in the case of this everything bagel, which probably had poppy seeds, which can be a false positive for opiates." A National Library of Medicine study confirmed ingesting poppy seeds in food products like pastries, bagels, muffins or cakes can show concentrations of morphine in urine drug tests. While the highest concentrations of total morphine were found between three and eight hours after consumption, they could still show up within a 48-hour window. That's why the U.S. Anti-Doping Agency advises athletes to avoid eating anything containing poppy seeds for at least a few days before competitions, warning that it "can't predict how long morphine or morphine metabolites from poppy seeds will stay in your system." But it's not just poppy seeds that can lead to faulty test results. There's an entire suite of medications, foods and exposures that are safe to take during pregnancy or have been prescribed by a physician that can result in false positives. The National Library of Medicine also reports that over-the-counter cough suppressants like dextromethorphan, and antibiotics to treat bacterial infections like rifampin and quinolone, can also cause false positive opiate test results. Perhaps even more unsettling than accidentally ingesting something that could result in a positive opiate test, a mother can be investigated if she or the baby tests positive for opiates even when the medication was given to her by the hospital during labor. That's exactly what Victoria Villanueva says happened to her. She was 18 years old in 2017 when she gave birth to her first child in an Indiana hospital. Her medical records show that she tested negative for any illicit substances upon entering the hospital and was given morphine during labor to ease pain – but that didn't stop the hospital from reporting her to the Indiana Department of Child Services when her newborn daughter tested positive for opiates. "I was bawling my eyes out, because I was thinking, well, they were going to take my baby away," Villanueva told "CBS Sunday Morning." Villanueva and her husband both passed drug tests, but — like Katie — she was still required to sign a safety plan. She believes that it may have been because she had admitted to once experimenting with drugs two years earlier. Over the next month, a social worker came regularly to check on her and inspect her home. "I was robbed of that experience to like, you know, actually be able to enjoy my child. Honestly, I was just too busy worrying about DCS, and them, possibly, taking my daughter away from me," she said. Lynn Paltrow, founder of Pregnancy Justice, who was part of the legal team that won the 2001 Supreme Court decision that ruled it unconstitutional to use drug test results solely to criminally prosecute pregnant women, says a single test result should never be relied on to report a mother. A positive drug test "can't tell you if I'm addicted [or] I'm dependent and it certainly cannot tell you how I parent. And yet for thousands of women in this country, and families, probably millions, a drug test is used as a parenting test," Paltrow said. Butler suggests hospitals use different forms of screening, like verbal questions, to identify potential substance use issues that could affect the birth or baby. Verbal screening or questionnaires are also recommended by most major medical groups, including the American Medical Association and The American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists. The National Library of Medicine also acknowledges that toxicology testing of pregnant patients has some limitations and possible negative consequences and said it should always be done with a woman's consent. The reporting of drug use during pregnancy to child welfare agencies "is strongly biased against racial and ethnic minorities, even following concerted efforts to prevent such bias. A positive toxicology test also shows evidence of use, but does not provide any information about the nature or extent of that use; similarly, a negative test does not rule out substance use, which is often sporadic," the National Library of Medicine states. Last fall, New Jersey Attorney General Mathew Platkin filed a civil rights lawsuit against the hospital group Virtua Health, accusing it of singling out pregnant mothers and drug testing them without their informed consent. Jennifer Khelil, executive vice president and chief clinical officer at Virtua Health, told "CBS Sunday Morning" that New Jersey law requires hospitals and health care providers to report positive drug screen results to the state's child protection agency, which then completes its own assessment and works directly with the families on next steps. "The devastating toll of the opioid epidemic requires thorough and equitable processes for identifying and supporting babies with neonatal opioid withdrawal syndrome and related conditions," Khelil said. Virtua Health implemented a universal urine drug testing policy — as an effort to "avoid subjectivity in testing," according to Khelil — for pregnant patients delivering at its hospitals back in 2018. In October 2024, a week after Platkin's suit was filed, the hospital group modified its universal urine testing protocol. A Virtua Health spokesperson told NJ Spotlight News at the time that it now screens pregnant patients admitted at its hospitals based on "patient indications." "I think it's wrong. When you're ruining precious moments of people's lives and uprooting things, you can't just shrug it off and say, well, sorry you fell in the cracks," Katie said. Nearly a year later, Katie is pregnant again — and the same fears are weighing on her. She spoke with her new doctor about refusing a drug screen this time, but says she was told that the hospital would report her to Alabama Department of Human Resources if she declined. "So I feel trapped. This all just happened a year ago. So it's very fresh. And I'm very wounded still from it, and terrified of it happening again," Katie said.