Lifestyle
Despite appearances, the Wallis Annenberg Wildlife Crossing is on track for fall completion
To the 300,000 drivers who stream through Agoura Hills on the 101 Freeway every day, the Wallis Annenberg Wildlife Crossing looks relatively unchanged from last summer, except for some leggy native shrubs growing along the outer walls.
While activity seems to have halted on what is touted to be the world’s largest wildlife crossing, there’s been lots of slow, expensive work at the site that’s hard to spot from the freeway, said Robert Rock, chief executive of Chicago-based Rock Design Associates and the landscape architect overseeing the project. This includes:
- Moving power lines, water lines and other utilities underground — at a cost of nearly $20 million — along the south side of the crossing.
- Drilling at least 140 deep holes along 175 feet of Agoura Road and filling them with concrete to create the foundation for the tunnel over the frontage road. The tunnel will support roughly 3 million cubic feet of soil connecting the south side of the crossing to the Santa Monica Mountains, roughly enough soil to fill half of SoFi Stadium, Rock said.
- Reworking some of the project’s nonwildlife-centered designs to reduce ballooning construction costs. For instance, an underground tunnel that would have permitted utility companies to drive in and check on their equipment has been reduced to a large conduit just big enough for wires and cables to be easily pulled through.
Rock and Beth Pratt, California regional executive director of the National Wildlife Federation and leader of the Save LA Cougars campaign, led a tour on top of the crossing during a sunny day last week to discuss the status of the long-awaited project, whose completion date was originally scheduled for the end of 2025.
Crews work on 70-foot-long wire rebar cages that were dropped into holes along Agoura Road and filled with concrete to create the foundation for a 175-foot-long tunnel over the frontage road that will support the south shoulder of the Wallis Annenberg Wildlife Crossing.
Record rains in 2022 and 2023 created significant delays, pushing the expected completion of the wildlife crossing to the end of this year.
“We want rainfall. We want water because that’s part of making these landscapes healthy and vibrant,” Rock said, “but when you have 14½ inches of rain in 24 hours and an open excavation for the foundation of a massive structure that fills up like a giant bathtub and you’ve got to vacuum all that sludge out of there three separate times and re-compact the soil … you’re going to have delays even if the contractors are moving at lightning speed.”
Rock said the new completion date in November or early December is “aggressive but doable” since the utility moving is now completed, and he expects work to move more rapidly once the the tunnel foundations are completed. The concrete tunnel will be built on-site and then covered with soil this summer. Most of the earth is coming from a small hill on the north side of the crossing that was created when the freeway was built in the 1950s.
The second and final phase of the project — attaching the shoulders that will permit animals to use the crossing — started last summer and is progressing on schedule, Rock said, but it’s also painstaking, expensive and largely invisible work moving overhead power lines underground and drilling thick holes about 70 feet deep. Once a hole is dug, a tall crane slowly slides in a rebar cage that resembles a wire mesh dinosaur spine so the hole can be filled with concrete.
The work is hidden from most freeway passersby and those driving below since Agoura Road is closed during weekday working hours.
Birds, lizards and insects have already been spotted at the top of the uncompleted Wallis Annenberg Wildlife Crossing, which rises 30 feet above the 101 Freeway in Agoura Hills. “Build it, and they really do come,” said Beth Pratt, California regional executive director of the National Wildlife Federation and leader of the Save LA Cougars campaign, as she looked east at the 101 Freeway traffic from the east edge of the crossing.
This project has more complexities than others around the country, Rock and Pratt said. Other crossings are typically located in more rural areas and chosen based on ease of construction. The location of this crossing was locked in — a slim passage of wilderness in a largely urban area between the Santa Monica Mountains and Simi Hills — so it faced challenges other crossings usually don’t such as moving utilities, skirting heritage oaks no one wants to remove or working around huge numbers of cars. “If we could have closed Agoura Road and the 101, I could have built it in a year,” Pratt said, laughing.
Rising construction costs have been another complication. The expected cost of the entire project, $92.6 million, held until last spring when the bids for the second phase “came back through-the-roof high,” Pratt said.
The contractor C.A. Rasmussen’s bids for Stage 1 of the project came in 8% below Caltran’s estimate, but the bids for Stage 2 pushed the costs about $21 million higher than expected, increasing the total projected cost to about $114 million.
About $77 million of the construction costs will be paid by state money, including a recent infusion of $18 million to help cover the shortfall, “primarily from conservation funds such as voter-approved bond measures or mitigation dollars,” Pratt wrote in an email. Private donors have provided the remaining $37 million, about 32% of the project’s overall construction costs. About $29.4 million of those private donations came from Wallis Annenberg, the crossing’s namesake, who helped kick-start the campaign with $1 million in 2016, after a “60 Minutes” report about the existential peril facing Los Angeles County’s freeway-locked cougars, Pratt said in an interview Friday.
Annenberg, who died last year, contributed $35.5 million for the project, including the $29.4 million specifically for the crossing construction as well as funds to cover design costs, ongoing wildlife research in the region and the project’s native plant nursery.
Construction costs have gone up everywhere over the past year, in large part because of uncertainty about what even the most basic materials such as concrete will cost, said Rock.
“If you’re putting together a bid for a project and you don’t know what the cost of something is going to be a month from now, let alone six months to a year from now, you’re going to roll that speculation into the cost of your pricing, even when you’re talking about something that should be a fairly stable [cost],” Rock said.
1
2
3
1. Landscapers place hundreds of native buckwheat, sages and other plants on top of the wildlife crossing. 2. Robert Rock stands along flags marking places for plants to be placed on top of the bridge. 3. A landscaper loosens the roots on a purple sage just removed from its gallon pot to prepare it for planting. (Myung J. Chun / Los Angeles Times)
Some of that uncertainty is based on the wildfires that decimated large swaths of Altadena, Pacific Palisades and Malibu last January, he said, because the heavy equipment needed for the project was suddenly in huge demand to clear burned properties. And tariffs on Canada and Mexico, two of the country’s largest suppliers of cement, an essential ingredient of concrete, further increased prices on one of the project’s key materials, even among domestic providers, he said.
The project has enough money now to complete construction, Pratt said, but Save LA Cougars is still fundraising, trying to raise another $6 million to cover other non-construction costs including $2 million for the Santa Monica Mountains Conservancy, which owns the land, to maintain the crossing habitat (such as removing invasive nonnative black mustard plants that have taken over the north side of the crossing in the Simi Hills).
In an email outlining the costs, Pratt said the money will also provide $1.5 million to the National Park Service to continue the wildlife research that led to the creation of the crossing, when scientists discovered that the freeways crisscrossing the region were making it impossible for cougars and other wildlife to find suitable mates. It will also be used to fund education programs, maintain the crossing’s nursery and train volunteer docents leading popular tours around (but not on) the crossing.
“As this is being regarded as a global model for urban wildlife conservation and connectivity, we have to ensure the research and educational efforts continue for the long-term,” she wrote.
The project’s rising costs have created anxiety for her. “When I saw the Stage 2 bid, I almost had a heart attack,” Pratt said last week. But during the tour, she was too distracted by the progress on the crossing to dwell on the stress. In midsentence, she’d suddenly break off to excitedly note a young kestrel flying near the crossing or a honeybee foraging among some early flowers.
These days the top of the crossing is busy with workers planting hundreds of native plants grown from seed at the project’s nursery nearby. There are plugs of grasses and gallon pots of white sage, purple sage, California buckwheat, long-stem buckwheat, deerweed, narrow leaf milkweed and coyote bush. The top is divided into 10-by-10 grids bristling with small colorful flags designating where the plants should be placed.
Habitat restoration is a huge part of this project, especially since a wide swath of the area was destroyed by the Woolsey fire in 2018, allowing invasive mustard plants to get a firm hold especially on the north side of the crossing. The native plants selected for the crossing all grow nearby, but Rock said the builders also want to make sure they plant the sages, buckwheats and grasses in the same groupings you would find in nature.
Pratt’s stuffed cougar, representing the late P-22 whose bachelor life trapped in Griffith Park helped inspire the project, sat placidly amid workers moving native plants onto the site. She brings him to tours she said, to help remind everyone what the project is ultimately about — saving wildlife.
Native vegetation is being planted at the Wallis Annenberg Wildlife Crossing in Agoura Hills.
Wild animals seem curious about the status of the project. A small herd of mule deer have been spotted nosing around the site of the tunnel construction on Agoura Road and in October, a young female cougar named P-129 was briefly captured and collared in a glen of oaks near the south side of the crossing, said Pratt.
Animals can’t easily get on the crossing now unless they can fly. The top is about 30 feet above the freeway, and the north edge is roughly 50 feet from the hills where it will eventually be connected.
Those sides will have to be carefully filled in, a little on one side, then a little on the other to keep the structure from rocking and falling over, Rock said. Once the soil is packed into place, workers will have to add more native plants to cover those shoulders, about 13 acres in all.
Pratt has immersed herself in wildlife for decades. She recently completed writing a book, “Yosemite Wildlife: The Wonder of Animal Life in California’s Sierra Nevada,” about the wildlife near her home in Northern California, and she’s excited about the prospect of insects, birds and other critters investigating the plants now covering the crossing’s top.
The recent wildlife sightings have caused her to rethink which wild animal will be the first to cross. Originally, she said, she was betting on a coyote, but now she’s putting her money on mule deer.
Rock was quieter. He’s happy about the progress, he said, “but I’m more riddled with anxiety than pride right now because there’s still so much work to be done to make sure we’re giving everything the best possible chance for success.”
Navigating the obstacles while upholding the project’s goals such as creating a self-sustaining native habitat over one of the country’s busiest freeways is critical, he said, because the outcome will influence decisions about future crossings.
The project has had some serious problems, he said, “the kind where people go back into their shells because things are difficult, and they’ve hit a roadblock. But I’m hoping that what we’re doing can become a catalyst for people to take a chance and continue to push down the path even though things are challenging.”
Fireworks, by Matthew Burgess and illustrated by Cátia Chien has won the Caldecott Medal for the most distinguished American picture book for children, and All the Blues in the Sky, written by Renée Watson has been awarded the Newbery Medal for the most outstanding contribution to children’s literature.
Clarion Books; Bloomsbury Children’s Books
hide caption
toggle caption
Clarion Books; Bloomsbury Children’s Books
The best books for children and young adults were awarded the country’s top honors by the American Library Association on Monday.
Illustrator Cátia Chien and author Matthew Burgess took home the Caldecott Medal for the book Fireworks. The Caldecott is given annually to the most distinguished American picture book for children. Fireworks follows two young siblings as they eagerly await the start of a July 4th fireworks show. Paired with Chien’s vibrant illustrations, Burgess’ poetic language enhances the sensory experience of fireworks.” When you write poems with kids, you see how immediately they get this,” Burgess told NPR in 2025 in a conversation about his book Words with Wings and Magic Things. “If you read a poem aloud to kids, they start to dance in their seats.”
The Newbery Medal, awarded for the most outstanding contribution to children’s literature, went to Renée Watson for All the Blues in the Sky. This middle-grade novel, also told in verse, follows 13-year-old Sage, who struggles with grief following the death of her best friend. Watson is also the author of Piecing Me Together, which won the 2018 Coretta Scott King Award and was also a Newbery Medal honor book. “I hope that my books provide space for young people to explore, and say, “Yeah, I feel seen,” Watson told NPR in 2018. “That’s what I want young people to do — to talk to each other and to the adults in their lives.”
This year’s recipients of the Coretta Scott King Book Awards include Will’s Race for Home by Jewell Parker Rhodes (author award) and The Library in the Woods, by Calvin Alexander Ramsey and illustrated by R. Gregory Christie (illustrator award). Arriel Vinson’s Under the Neon Lights received the Coretta Scott King-John Steptoe Award for New Talent.
Los Angeles based artist Kadir Nelson was honored with the Coretta Scott King-Virginia Hamilton Award for Lifetime Achievement. His work has appeared in more than 30 children’s books.
This year’s Newbery Honor Books were The Nine Moons of Han Yu and Luli, by Karina Yan Glaser; A Sea of Lemon Trees: The Corrido of Roberto Alvarez by María Dolores Águila and The Teacher of Nomad Land: A World War II Story by Daniel Nayeri.
Caldecott Honors books were Every Monday Mabel by Jashar Awan, Our Lake by Angie Kang, Stalactite & Stalagmite: A Big Tale from a Little Cave by Drew Beckmeyer, and Sundust by Zeke Peña.
Edited by Jennifer Vanasco and Beth Novey.
In the soundtrack of his youth, Walter Thompson-Hernández and his friends liked to devise a game of escape. Extending their arms in a v-formation at their side, they would race down the street on weekend afternoons imagining the freedom of the airplanes soaring across the blue infinity of their Huntington Park neighborhood.
Thompson-Hernández never lost that sense of dreaming. This month, he made his feature-length debut at the 2026 Sundance Film Festival with “If I Go Will They Miss Me,” a film of audacious sight and attentive storytelling that unfolds from the perspective of its protagonist Lil Ant, a Watts-raised, 12-year-old obsessed with airplanes and Greek mythology. Where coming-of-age stories often confront the crush of innocence — the fracture and shock of stolen virtue — Thompson-Hernández instead renders one about preservation. A preservation, in part, held together by Lozita (Danielle Brooks), a mom and wife working to keep her family whole now that Big Ant (J. Alphonse Nicholson) is home from prison.
The film isn’t trying to absorb or recklessly mirror the traumas of the Black family so much as make a case for its nuance. In “If I Go,” Thompson-Hernández scraps the three-act structure for something more novelistic, a risk that a lesser director might have fumbled but one he turns into a profound taxonomy on grace. It is a story that interrogates — with a searching and brutal tenderness — the how, why and who of our emotional being. Even as Lil Ant yearns to be closer to his father, what the film doesn’t do is beg you to empathize with the conditions that its characters war against; instead, it demands that you simply acknowledge their presence, their wounds and their dreaming.
Walter Thompson-Hernández, director of “If I Go Will They Miss Me.”
(Michael “Cambio” Fernandez)
Thompson-Hernández’s cinematic canvas recalls a Los Angeles rarely afforded witness on screen. You won’t find any wasted thinking about the tired pathologies of urban decay; the film takes pleasure in depicting Black Angelenos in the fullness of their complexity, celebrating the toil and wonder of how people come together and fall apart, of how love is broken and remade. “There’s already a lyricism that exists in each of our lives,” he tells me. “In how we speak, in how our bodies move through the world, and how we touch each other. I’m sensitive to that.”
Though today he primarily works in the medium of film, Thompson-Hernández has a kaleidoscopic approach to craft. A former journalist for the New York Times, he’s as comfortable writing about the legacy of Black cowboys in Southern California (his 2020 book, “The Compton Cowboys: The New Generation of Cowboys in America’s Urban Heartland,” was a New York Times bestseller) as he is directing a Beats By Dre commercial for the Super Bowl or shooting a sports documentary for Netflix. In 2025, his Portuguese-language film “Kites” — a story about personal reclamation in favelas of Rio de Janeiro — won the Special Jury Mention for Viewpoints at the Tribeca Film Festival. What Thompson-Hernández’s art so easily dispels, no matter the genre it finds a home in, are all the knotty, misguided and trite representations of otherness in our contemporary world. He is a seer of the unseen.
(Vladimir Santos) (Kemal Cilengir)
Jason Parham: A major theme in the film wrestles with what it means to find your place at home when you return. Was that a personal story?
Walter Thompson-Hernández: So much happens to the figures in our lives who travel away from us and eventually come back home. Thematically, this movie is about flight and transportation — both the physical flights that one takes, but also the emotional and spiritual flights. Big Ant, the father [character], returns after doing a stint in prison, but what his son sees as a Grecian 10-year war. That’s been my relationship to so many of the men who I grew up around.
JP: How so?
WTH: They would be gone for a while and we wouldn’t know where they would be. Then they would just show up after two or three or four years. We’d ask questions. It would be, “So-and-so was locked up” or “So-and-so had to go away for a while but now he’s back.” Greek mythology became a North Star for understanding very complicated characters in my own life.
JP: Why was that sense of imagination important to explore?
WTH: The aperture from which I lived my life was very small. It was a very contained world that only existed around a few geographic locations and a few blocks. Eventually I was able to leave. But very few of us get to make it out. Which is a weird sentence — get to make it out — because so many people want to be here and come here all the time. But there are those of us that got the chance to travel and to essentially fly. The older I got, the more I realized how small my world was as a child, but also how expansive and imaginative it was. In Ta-Nehisi Coates’s book “Between the World and Me,” there’s a passage that I always think about. I’m paraphrasing, but he tells his son something to the extent of — James Baldwin, Toni Morrison, Alice Walker, those are yours. And then he says Karl Marx, Leon Trotsky and Simone de Beauvoir — listing all these European artists and thinkers — those are also yours. I’m extending that care and grace to the boy in this movie. A lot of us, we don’t get to dream in that way as Black or brown boys in L.A.
JP: What did young Walter dream about?
WTH: Our home was right in between both LAX flight paths. The sound of these airplanes is something that I’ll never forget. My mom and aunts still live in that neighborhood. When I go back, I forget how strong the sound of the airplanes are, how abrasive and all-encompassing. As a child, I was drawn to the mystery of them — where they were coming from and where they were going. I would imagine who was in them. My friends and I, we made up games where we would race airplanes on our bikes or we’d sprint down the block extending our arms. They had this power over us. The movie is me making sense of that mystery and beauty while also understanding that I have asthma because of them.
JP: You’re referring to the health complications people suffer from in areas downwind of the flight paths.
WTH: Cancer rates and asthma are so prevalent among the people who I grew up around. There is an irony in airplanes. On one hand, we can dream about them and all the places they can take us, but the tangible effects are that they are harming us. Jet fuelers, all those things. As children, how do we wrestle with those complex ideas, while on the ground wrestling with complex ideas about adolescence, about our parents. To say growing up under the LAX flight path is a complicated experience, there’s so much truth in that. Taking the mythology of these airplanes and applying that to the mythology that we create about adults in our lives is something that I hope people really feel in this movie.
JP: There are a lot of smart technical choices in the film, from the sound to the set design. Who were your influences?
WTH: I could reference films like “Killer of Sheep” or “The Battle of Algiers” or “Gummo” or “He Got Game”; there’s a list of at least 50 movies. But there’s something about looking at a Jacob Lawrence painting that offers me the biggest inspiration in terms of the dexterity and freedom and elasticity of Black bodies in space. There’s something about painting as a medium for me that lives outside of the limits of photography and film. There aren’t a lot of barriers and boundaries to how painters experience the world. Whether it’s Jacob Lawrence or Henry Taylor or Winfred Rembert or Kerry James Marshall. I obviously study literature, photography and film, but painting is where I go for ideas around framing and composition.
(Vladimir Santos)
JP: The film plays with different interpretations of light. How would you describe your relationship to light?
WTH: I am so drawn to natural lighting. I’m drawn to patient frames. Usually the frame is a middle shot or a wide shot. And there’s inserts and close-ups sometimes, but I feel very confident in the way that we stage and we block the scene. I feel confident that the information is gonna exist on screen. When I was a journalist at the New York Times, I didn’t just write everything, I also photographed everything I worked on. In terms of creating a visual language, I feel very, very comfortable framing and creating compositions in film. A lot of times you watch movies that feel over-lit. There’s too much information that we are able to gather. Working with our cinematographer, Michael Fernandez, we trust the audience so much, almost too much. If something feels a bit darker, if something is not lit in a way that feels a little too highly produced, I trust that someone will still be able to recognize and find the truth and honesty in every frame.
JP: So much so that L.A. begins to feel like its own character. Was there a certain story — one that hasn’t been told about the city — that you wanted to illuminate?
WTH: So many of us grew up watching ’90s L.A. movies: “South Central,” “Menace II Society,” “Friday.” All the Chicano gangster movies, “Blood In Blood Out.” There was also “Heat.” There’s so many movies about Los Angeles in the ’90s that really got L.A. in a way that most modern day movies about Los Angeles don’t. Something happened along the way where people who weren’t from L.A. started to make movies about Los Angeles. It felt a bit tropey often. It created a checklist. “Oh, it needs a lowrider. It needs a palm tree. It needs perfect orange, cotton candy lighting.” It feels kinda corny, if I’m being honest. For a lot of us, I don’t have to tell you that this movie is set in L.A. You feel it, you hear it.
JP: Yes, you hear it. I appreciated how the sonic texture — whether it was a Nate Dogg track or radio spots from Power 106 — helped ground the viewer not only in what they were witnessing, but why.
WTH: Sonically, I’m having a conversation in this movie about how this once-primarily Black community set in Nickerson Gardens in Watts was once over 90% Black, today is over 80% Latino. Which is a real conversation about change, about how Black people have been getting pushed out for generations, but also a complex story about immigration. It’s not always violence, there’s also peace and all this other stuff. The way I explore that is through sound and music. If you notice, this family, the Harris family, they hear a lot of Spanish-language music coming from a neighbor’s home, coming from the outside. There’s a version of that that feels more soapboxy, where I’m telling somebody in dialogue or in the scene that this community was once Black and it’s almost no longer Black. For me, it just felt more interesting to hear that. We’re hearing a Mexican ice cream truck and all these other things. That’s also telling us that this family is experiencing demographic change.
JP: If we can, I want to talk about the state of Hollywood —
WTH: It was so hard to get this movie made, man. It was a challenge. If I’m being incredibly honest with you, I think there was a run beginning in 2020 or so, where a lot of people felt the urge and maybe pressure to support movies made by women and people of color.
JP: Without question.
WTH: And people were supported in ways that were incredible. But for one reason or another, some of those movies didn’t do too well. They didn’t make the money back, which we can sit here and debate about why that happened. I tried to make this movie at the tail end of that run of support. Everyone in Hollywood loved the script. Everyone in Hollywood loved me. Everyone said, “Hey man, we love this. And we love you so much. But we supported something similar a year or two ago and we’re not doing that anymore.” I heard that so much, and from people that would surprise you. Then, in 2023, I got involved in the Sundance Catalyst program. The program invites financiers to finance eight independent movies. [“If I Go”] really took a lot of support and a lot of effort from people who believed in me and believed in the script. It was an interesting time to make an independent movie about a Black family from Los Angeles.
JP: Does the reality of industry have any bearing on the art you want to create versus the art it’s ready for?
WTH: The art that I want to make looks at humans making sense of their lives and the world in a way that maybe we haven’t seen before. There’s a lot of lyricism. There’s all sorts of things. I don’t know if I’m necessarily thinking about the movie industry when I make the art that I make. People don’t know what they want until they see it, until they feel it. I always say this: Sometimes you make something that exists in time and sometimes you make things that are of time. When people are making things that are of time, it’s responding to the zeitgeist or weird ideas around marketing and what’s popular.
JP: What’s trending on TikTok.
WTH: Exactly. It feels so reactionary. That’s of time. I like to think about making things that are in time. In time, for me, is making art that is in conversation with this beautiful legacy of artistry and of filmmaking. It’s making things without thinking about the moment. It’s thinking about truth in character, truth in dialogue, truth in scene, truth in composition, truth in sound. That’s what I’m thinking about. I’m thinking about honesty. When it comes to my art, I always want to be in time.
Jason Parham is a senior writer at Wired and a documentary producer. He is a frequent contributor to Image.
(Michael “Cambio” Fernandez)
Lifestyle
Pretty hurts (and then some) in Ryan Murphy’s body-horror ‘The Beauty’ : Pop Culture Happy Hour
Ashton Kutcher as The Corporation in The Beauty.
Eric Liebowitz/FX
hide caption
toggle caption
Eric Liebowitz/FX
The Beauty stars familiar faces from the Ryan Murphy universe, including Evan Peters, as well as new collaborators like Ashton Kutcher. In the show, a genetic biotech serum has been engineered to transform people into ridiculously good-looking supermodels. But there’s at least one problem: Eventually, those supermodels are dying suddenly, horrifically and spectacularly. Is it astute commentary, crass exploitation, or maybe a bit of both? Well, it’s definitely a Ryan Murphy production, through and through.
Subscribe to Pop Culture Happy Hour Plus at plus.npr.org/happyhour
Detroit Pistons find new altitude in win over Denver Nuggets
Video: Mountain Lion Spotted in San Francisco
DAL@STL Postgame: Glen Gulutzan | Dallas Stars
Darian Mensah Officially Joins Miami Hurricanes After Agreement With Duke
David Pastrnak, Bruins earn 3-2 overtime victory over Nashville
Florida High School Football Rankings: Top 25 teams – Oct. 21
Cleary's 21 help Le Moyne down Central Connecticut State 69-64 in OT
How old is Bo Nix? What to know about Oregon quarterback ahead of 2024 NFL Draft
99th annual Pony Swim held in Virginia
Indiana Members Credit Union announced as new anchor tenant at Bottleworks District
Video: F.A.A. Ignored Safety Concerns Prior to Collision Over Potomac, N.T.S.B. Says
Democrats demand Kristi Noem be fired or warn impeachment will follow
EU Commissioner Virkkunen urges US to respect EU digital rules
Families of killed men file first U.S. federal lawsuit over drug boat strikes
Video: New Video Analysis Reveals Flawed and Fatal Decisions in Shooting of Pretti
-
Sports1 week agoMiami’s Carson Beck turns heads with stunning admission about attending classes as college athlete
-
Illinois6 days agoIllinois school closings tomorrow: How to check if your school is closed due to extreme cold
-
Pittsburg, PA1 week agoSean McDermott Should Be Steelers Next Head Coach
-
Lifestyle1 week agoNick Fuentes & Andrew Tate Party to Kanye’s Banned ‘Heil Hitler’
-
Pennsylvania2 days agoRare ‘avalanche’ blocks Pennsylvania road during major snowstorm
-
Sports1 week agoMiami star throws punch at Indiana player after national championship loss
-
Cleveland, OH1 week agoNortheast Ohio cities dealing with rock salt shortage during peak of winter season
-
Science1 week ago‘It is scary’: Oak-killing beetle reaches Ventura County, significantly expanding range