Maryland sheriffs vowed to fight legislation, passed early in this year’s legislative session, prohibiting formal agreements between local police agencies and federal immigration officials, and giving sheriff’s departments 90 days to get out of any deal they were in.

But as the 90-day clock expires Monday, it turns out that at least seven of the nine counties that had the so-called 287(g) agreements with Immigration and Customs Enforcement have pulled out of those plans and an eighth said the agreement will not be enforced, even though it’s still on the books.

Most of the local departments dropped the 287(G) agreements either the same day or the day after Gov. Wes Moore (D) signed Senate Bill 245 and House Bill 444 into law Feb. 17. The emergency legislation took effect immediately upon his signature.

While they appear to have given up the 287(g) fight, however, sheriffs are still assessing a challenge to another immigration bill that passed during the waning hours on the last day of this year’s session: the Community Trust Act. It is one of several immigration enforcement bills the governor has yet to sign, with just one more bill signing scheduled for May 26.

The majority Democratic legislature and the supporters of the 287(g) ban argue it eliminates and distrust of police in communities where aggressive immigration tactics have been conducted and enforced by President Donald Trump (R) and his administration.

As of Sunday, according to ICE, the agency had 1,832 law enforcement agencies in 39 states and two U.S. territories signed on to participate in the 287(g) program. Seven of the nine Maryland counties – Allegany, Carroll, Cecil, Frederick, Harford, St. Mary’s and Wicomico – already informed the agency they had to terminate their partnerships due to the passage of the law.

“I thank you for your partnership since 2019 and your efforts to help me keep our communities safer,” wrote Cecil County Sheriff Scott Adams in a Feb. 17 letter addressed to Vernon Liggins, acting field office director in the Baltimore ICE office.

But the agency’s website lists two Maryland counties still participating: Garrett and Washington.

A representative from the Garrett County Sheriff Office didn’t respond to requests for comment Friday.

Washington County Sheriff Brian Albert said that because the 287(g) ban took effect immediately, the agreement “is pretty much null and void. We’re not participating in the 287(g) program. We just don’t have a lot of people with detainers on them that are processing through the jail. There’s not a large immigrant community here in Washington County.”

But Albert and some other sheriffs are assessing legal advice about the Community Trust Act.

Senate Bill 791, sponsored by Sen. Clarence Lam (D-Anne Arundel and Howard), which was made an emergency measure, would prohibit local or state police from holding a person for ICE, except in limited scenarios: If a person was convicted of a felony in the United States; is a registered sex offender; served between 12 to 18 months in a state prison; or committed an offense in another state and served at least five years in prison.

A major part of the bill requires federal officials to present a judicial warrant to hold someone, not just an administrative warrant.

One of the main complaints from Republican lawmakers and some sheriffs is the act will not only decrease cooperation with federal officials, but also force law enforcement agencies to follow both federal and state law they say conflict with each other.

“We’re sworn to uphold the constitution of the United States and the state of Maryland. The Community Trust Act puts us in a very tough predicament,” Albert said.

‘Have some standing’

Harford County Sheriff Jeffrey Gahler posted a video April 15 on social media urging the governor to veto the Community Trust Act.

“This legislation is a direct assault on public safety. It officially bans our law enforcement and correctional officers from communicating with our federal partners at the Department of Homeland Security,” Gahler said in video.

He reiterated that point said in an interview Thursday.

“The governor hasn’t signed it. We’re waiting on [whether] if he vetoes it, or allows it to become law after 30 days if he doesn’t veto it or sign it,” Gahler said. “We have talked with attorneys. We think we might have some standing. I hope we don’t get there. I hope he does the right thing and vetoes this terrible bill.”

Another immigration-related bill awaiting the governor’s signature is the Data Privacy Act, which seeks to close loopholes in the state’s Public Information Act and prohibit a business from selling personal data of an individual “for the purpose of immigration enforcement.”

“The signing of these bills are going to be career defining for our governor and going to mark his legacy on immigration at a time when our communities are under attack,” said Cathryn Jackson, policy director for We Are CASA.

As for the 287(g) legislation advocates pushed for more than a decade to get, Del. Nicole Williams (D-Prince George’s) said “it’s a big deal.”

“It’s just really unfortunate we are in this political climate we are in today with a federal administration in trying to prevent people from obtaining the American dream,” said Williams, who sponsored the House version of the 287(g) legislation.

“It’s about people who are searching for a better life for their family. When we talk about American exceptionalism, our immigration system is a part of that,” she said.

Maryland Matters is part of States Newsroom, a nonprofit news network supported by grants and a coalition of donors as a 501c(3) public charity. Maryland Matters maintains editorial independence. Contact Editor Steve Crane for questions: editor@marylandmatters.org.

With North Carolina’s activity in the transfer portal and recruiting pool coming to a close, although there are a couple of players to keep tabs on in the coming days, it is time to start evaluating how next season could look in Chapel Hill.

Big picture, 2026 is about head coach Michael Malone establishing a foundational culture for multiple years. Tar Heel fans are going to expect nothing less than a deep tournament run, but North Carolina needs to take the required baby steps. Coming off a second consecutive first-round exit, the Tar Heels need to at least win one game in the NCAA Tournament, but even then, their fans will not be satisfied if they fail to advance past the first weekend.

If North Carolina wants to be in the best position possible in the revamped 76-team field, winning as many games in conference play and orchestrating a formidable run in the ACC tournament will go a long way in setting itself up nicely for a potential run in March. With that being said, here are the Tar Heels’ ceiling and floor in the ACC next season.

Ceiling: Third Place

It is tough to imagine North Carolina cracking the top-two threshold in the conference, with Duke and Louisville as the clear top ACC teams. While the Blue Devils retained four key rotational players and compiled the No. 1 overall 2026 class, the Cardinals went all in on the transfer portal, signing Flory Bidunga, Jackson Sheldstad, Karter Knox, and Alvaro Folgueiras. Not to mention, Louisville landed five-star center Obinna Ekezie Jr., who reclassified from 2027 and will be part of the 2026 rotation.

Quite frankly, there is too much firepower on those two teams for North Carolina to keep pace with. That being said, Malone’s coaching should elevate the Tar Heels and at least surpass their fourth-place finish last season.

Floor: Fifth Place

This would be a major disappointment, and there would be salt in the wound when assessing that this would be a worse finish than last season. North Carolina has the coaching and talent to finish inside the top three, but a couple of under-the-radar teams could emerge as legitimate threats in the ACC.

Virginia and Miami each finished above the Tar Heels in 2025, and the Cavaliers are returning the majority of their roster. Meanwhile, Miami has signed a couple of underrated players from the transfer portal who should help offset losses across the roster. Nevertheless, North Carolina cannot afford to miss out on a double-bye in the conference tournament, which is awarded to the top four teams at the end of the regular season.

Add us as a preferred source on Google

Follow

It was their dream home, a newly built, 2,500-square-foot modern farmhouse with a playroom that Mitch and Kara Meredith had saved for 12 years to buy for their growing family. During construction, family members had written their favorite Bible verses on studs throughout the house. For four idyllic years on Darlene Lane, the couple hosted birthday parties for their two young daughters, who became fast friends with the other children in the recently built subdivision in Fort Gibson.

Then one evening last summer, five weeks after the couple’s third child was born, their bathroom flooded.

When their 7-year-old ran into the garage to report that water was all over the floor, Mitch assumed a pipe had burst, or perhaps the toilet was backed up.  

Then he entered the bathroom. A thick, black fluid with an oily sheen covered the floor. Kara yelled from their bedroom for him to come quickly; the same substance was flowing out of the floor next to their bed.

Mitch, along with several family members, fought the flood all night, vacuuming up the sludge and emptying buckets out the window. Black goo covered their arms. Shiny rainbow patterns covered their shoes. After pulling the bathtub away from the wall, Mitch saw that the substance was gushing through the house’s foundation. It was clear this wasn’t a plumbing problem.

Around 5 a.m., Mitch’s uncle turned to him. “I think this is oil,” he said. The family called the fire department, and Kara rushed their three children, including their infant, to her grandmother’s house.  

“And that’s the last time we got to be in our home,” Mitch said.

The Frontier and ProPublica’s reporting on oil and gas pollution in Oklahoma over the last year has shown how old oil wells abandoned by the industry pose severe public and environmental health risks. Officially, the state lists 19,000 orphan wells that state regulators are responsible for cleaning up, but the true figure is likely over 300,000, according to federal researchers. 

State records suggest that the Merediths’ house may have been built on top of an improperly plugged oil well drilled in the 1940s. And on that fateful Saturday last August, something woke it up. 

Mitch drilled a hole into his home’s concrete foundation in hopes of diverting the sludge out of the house and into the yard. It worked: The foul-smelling water began to pour out of the cavity, filling a deep trench they had dug. 

Many of their possessions were ruined. A strong smell of gas hung throughout the house, permeating clothes, sheets and mattresses. 

After leaving Darlene Lane, the family moved four times in four months — at times paying their mortgage and rent simultaneously. 

At the outset of the crisis, the family had pinned most of their hopes on the Oklahoma Corporation Commission, the regulatory agency responsible for overseeing oil and gas — including pollution from the industry and plugging old wells. They wanted the agency to figure out what happened — and help them clean it up. 

It did not take long for their hopes to transform into anger.

State regulators, according to the family, have done little to help them. 

“They wanted to act like it would go away,” Mitch said. 

In October, more than a month after the flooding began, Jeremy Hodges, the director of the commission’s oil and gas division, met with Mitch and Kara at the house. 

He told them that when his team stuck a gas reader into the hole in their bathroom floor, where the oily water continued to flow, it showed gas concentrations at explosive levels, according to a recording that the Merediths provided to The Frontier and ProPublica. 

The local public works authority had also brought out a gas reader. It found gas levels that constituted a “serious and immediate hazard,” according to a report. 

Old, unplugged wells — like the one that state records indicate is near or possibly under the Merediths’ house — are known to leak gas and toxic fluids. 

Hodges also told the couple that the agency would likely have to tear down the house to look for the well and plug it. Subsequent sampling conducted by the commission showed salt readings that suggested the presence of wastewater resulting from the production of oil and gas. Other testing by the state’s environmental quality department found elevated levels of heavy metals commonly found in oil field wastewater including barium and bromide. Mitch took his own samples and paid an environmental lab to test them. The results also pointed to oil and gas pollution.

But as the months wore on, the agency never stated explicitly that the mysterious substance contaminating the Merediths’ home was the byproduct of oil and gas production. It simply referred to the pollution as “water” in public statements. 

In a packed town hall in March convened after the family began criticizing the agency on social media, community members grilled Hodges and several other high-ranking agency representatives about the Merediths’ situation for two hours, pressing them about the environmental risks and demanding action. About half of Oklahomans live within 1 mile of oil and gas wells. 

“Would you live there?” a woman in the audience asked Hodges.

“I’m not going to answer that,” he responded, prompting jeers from the crowd.

“So you’re saying that you don’t want to answer the question of whether you would actually live in that house?” asked Mitch’s brother, Matt Meredith.

“That’s a hypothetical,” Hodges said. “I’m not going to answer that.”

Homeowners facing such an event should file damages with their insurance companies, Jim Marshall, an administrator with the Oklahoma Corporation Commission, said from the front of the community center conference room. But the family’s insurance company had denied their claim last fall — citing exclusions for pollution and water damage — without ever inspecting the damage, according to the Merediths’ attorney. The Merediths have sued American Mercury, their insurance company, which did not answer questions about the case because of pending litigation, as well as their developers, who did not respond to requests for comment.  

At the public meeting, Marshall suggested underground water sources could be pushing fluid into the home, noting that the Merediths’ neighborhood once contained several ponds. If the culprit is not oil and gas, that would shift the responsibility for cleanup to other state agencies. Marshall, Hodges and an agency attorney repeatedly told the crowd that with the house likely blocking access to the well, the agency had reached the end of its legal ability to help the Merediths. 

Jack Damrill, a spokesperson for the Oklahoma Corporation Commission, did not answer questions about what the agency thinks is causing the pollution but said it “recognizes the seriousness of the concerns raised regarding the Meredith family matter, as well as the broader public interest.” The agency, he said in a statement, has “devoted significant investigative time, technical expertise, and regulatory resources to reviewing the situation and will continue to evaluate any new, relevant information as it becomes available.”

Last week, Oklahoma lawmakers passed a bill introduced by the Merediths’ state senator, Avery Frix, that would create a fund to compensate homeowners whose houses have been damaged by oil and gas pollution. While hopeful that the legislation will help them, Mitch noted that it requires the commission to confirm the presence of an old well, something the agency has yet to do at the Merediths’ home.

On Darlene Lane, the flow of contamination increased in late April and continues to seep into their neighbor’s yard. 

“What I’ve begged for from the beginning is for them to help me contain it,” Mitch said. “They have refused to do anything.” 

Nine months after they were forced to flee their dream home, the family of five is crammed into a 900-square-foot, two-bedroom bungalow on Mitch’s parents’ farm where the couple had lived as newlyweds. The girls share a bunk bed. The baby sleeps in Mitch and Kara’s room.

The girls often ask to play with the neighbors they had to leave behind, along with many of their possessions. Their toys still line the shelves of their bedrooms in the house on Darlene Lane, awaiting their return. Wet clothes sat in the washer for months. Half-packed boxes are scattered around the floor, evidence of the family’s panicked retreat last August. 

The house is stuck in time, like a museum of the Merediths’ old life.