SAVANNAH, Ga. — The FBI agents have confirmed that they’ve identified the chemical used in a Georgia acid attack.

Just last month, Ashley Wasielewski was walking around Forsyth Park in Savannah when a man hiding in the shadows near Whitaker Street suddenly came out and attacked Wasielewski with an unknown chemical substance.

Sources close to the investigation say that liquid melted through Wasielewski’s clothing and headphones and left her with severe burns.

On Friday, the FBI released that they now know what that substance was but are not releasing the name of the substance to the public at this time.

FBI officials say that SLED assisted and did the testing on behalf of the the organization.

Agents are also following up on leads now that the substance has been identified.

Just days after the attack, more than $260,000 had been raised for Wasielewski, who was recovering at a burn center in Augusta.

One of Ashley’s friends, Kristen Oddi organized a GoFundMe to help pay for Wasielewski’s extensive medical care.

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But Welch and Palka aren’t fire-and-brimstone populists. They are careful. Disciplined. They speak moderation while building something more durable: nurturing a generation of young conservatives who will carry their teachings into agencies, congressional offices, the judiciary, and a returning Republican administration.

So does King’s function as a soft-power pipeline for young conservatives in Washington? Its leaders bristle at the suggestion.

“We have nothing to do with getting people jobs…. We have never, ever, ever done that,” says Palka. “I do think it could be a by-product, though.”

“Part of the Christian faith is that we don’t compartmentalize it,” says Welch. “So we want people to see that it does influence [your career], just like how your faith influences your family, your relationships, your kids, so that’s just natural to how the church operates—it’s not like this is the goal.”

King’s has done 250 baptisms in eight years. Palka jokes more than once that I could be baptized at their next ceremony. When I ask how long it takes to join the church, he smiles: “It could take 15 minutes, it could take 15 years.”

He believes Gen Z is drawn not to megachurch gimmicks like slingshots and zip-lining pastors but to ancient ritual. King’s recites the Nicene Creed weekly, rare among evangelical churches. Members must affirm nine core beliefs: God as Father, Son, Holy Ghost; Jesus fully God and fully human; born of a virgin; lived without sin; died; rose again; and will return to judge the living and the dead. Scripture is final. The church must carry out Christ’s mission until he returns.

“They’re looking to retrieve some of those anchors that have been lost,” Palka says. “That is something the young people are flocking to—the high church liturgy.”

Space, not attendance, is King’s real problem. Expansion plans to cities like Paris and Berlin are on hold until they secure a permanent space in DC, and they need money. Their flock consists largely of interns and junior staffers, earnest but broke.

Palka knows that securing a physical home would give King’s another ring of relevance, one more proof point that the church can be an institution.

“We thought we’d have a building by now,” says Palka. “You can hit up a denomination for funding, but this capital campaign, it’s been very slow.”

Worshippers show up a half hour early to claim seats, and some longtime congregants have grumbled about the intern influx. One faction, calling itself “King’s Church Members Take a Stand,” lines the back wall to save room for newcomers.

They launched with a $50,000 loan from the Southern Baptist Convention’s North American Mission Board—small by megachurch standards but enough to launch a movement. “I would love if we had a building of our own one day,” Palka says. “All the statistics say it gives the Church credibility, it makes it more real in people’s eyes when you see that it’s their location.”

Robertson, the 26-year-old running the intern ministry, may be one of the church’s most influential figures. “It’s a really interesting city,” he says. “The fact that 25-year-olds kind of run the government.” He is, in effect, their shepherd.

Conservatism Inc.

For interns living on stipends, King’s offers free lunches, Nationals tickets, and speaker events featuring K Street veterans, senior aides, operatives, and even a Fox News producer. There are mixers too, where future staff assistants meet future legislative directors.

For the Republican Party, that makes King’s more than a church. It’s a long-term investment.

A new helicopter will take to the skies over Central Texas on Tuesday. Texas Children’s Hospital has added a helicopter to its Kangaroo Crew intensive care transport team, which previously used only ambulances to bring patients to its Austin facility. 

The team will be able to travel 120 nautical miles to pick up a patient. The hospital, which opened almost two years ago, has launched programs that are attracting patients from across Texas and around the country, said Dr. Jeff Shilt, the president of Texas Children’s in Austin. “Having a helicopter for a pediatric hospital is really a differentiator for us.” 

The $15 million investment makes Texas Children’s the only hospital — pediatric or adult — in Austin with a dedicated helicopter. The other hospitals use STAR Flight.

The air transport program will expand this summer with a larger helicopter that will seat four in the bay instead of three and fly up to 200 nautical miles. That will take this helicopter beyond Waco, Brownwood, San Antonio and College Station, where this current helicopter can go, to near Dallas, San Angelo, Corpus Christi and Beaumont. Texas Children’s also has a plane that is based in Houston that can carry patients who are much further than 200 nautical miles. 

The helicopter also will be used locally when traffic on MoPac Boulevard or Interstate 35 would make an ambulance trip longer than 30 minutes to an hour.

The helicopter’s crew of four pilots, critical care nurses and respiratory therapists is based at the Georgetown Executive Airport, which is seven minutes of flying time to the hospital in North Austin. 

Each time the helicopter takes off, a respiratory therapist and a registered nurse travels with it. The medical team has been trained in trauma care and has multiple certifications. They also can bring a patient-specific specialized doctor or nurse practitioner if needed. There is a seat for a guardian to ride with their child. 

Inside the helicopter is a miniature intensive care unit with ventilators, monitors and oxygen tanks that can be moved in and out to stabilize a patient in a hospital, during the flight and after landing at the Texas Children’s helipad until the patient is connected to hospital machines.

“We take the ICU to them, stabilizing them and bring them back to a higher level of care,” said Kelley Young, a respiratory therapist with 19 years of critical care team experience working in a helicopter.

The patients are strapped into a sled that is tied down to the helicopter. That sled can be put onto a gurney to take the patient in and out of the helicopter. For smaller patients, such as babies, there are parts that are added to secure them to the sled.

The team is prepared for an emergency, including each having a survival kit on them and an additional one in the helicopter.

“We do a lot of training and a lot of simulations,” said John Samluk, a critical care nurse with the team.

They also can talk to everyone in the helicopter using headsets and call to hospital staff at either end of the journey to relay or receive updates.