In the early 2000s, more than half of the passenger vehicles on American roads were traditional cars like sedans. Their hoods were low to the ground.
In the early 2000s, more than half of the passenger vehicles on American roads were traditional cars like sedans. Their hoods were low to the ground.
Advertisement
By the 2010s, larger vehicles like compact S.U.V.s had eclipsed cars.
By the 2010s, larger vehicles like compact S.U.V.s had eclipsed cars.
Advertisement
Today, S.U.V.s and pickup trucks dominate the roads. Many are bigger than ever.
Today, S.U.V.s and pickup trucks dominate the roads. Many are bigger than ever.
Advertisement
And far deadlier, a New York Times investigation found.
And far deadlier, a New York Times investigation found.
Advertisement
They are killing thousands of pedestrians who otherwise might have survived.
They are killing thousands of pedestrians who otherwise might have survived.
Advertisement
Illustrations by Todd M. Detwiler
For decades, American roads were steadily getting safer for pedestrians. But around 2009, the trend reversed. Since then, the number of pedestrians killed each year has risen by about 75 percent.
Advertisement
Source: Insurance Institute for Highway SafetyThe New York Times
Advertisement
The surge in pedestrian deaths has baffled researchers. Most other wealthy countries haven’t seen similar increases, suggesting that possible culprits like smartphones don’t tell the whole story.
Other likely causes of deadly crashes, such as drunken and distracted driving, have attracted immense attention from the public and policymakers. But the trend toward ever-larger vehicles has received much less scrutiny, even after federal researchers in 2022 cautioned regulators that it was endangering pedestrians.
After analyzing federal and industry records, including never-before-examined data on vehicle dimensions, we found that the rise of large pickups and S.U.V.s is an important factor.
Advertisement
Our estimate is that about 200 to 400 pedestrians a year would not have died if vehicles had remained approximately the same size over the past quarter-century. That represents about 10 percent of the recent increase in pedestrian deaths.
There are two reasons bigger vehicles are deadlier: They have taller hoods. And they tend to have larger blind zones.
Advertisement
“We see a lot of devastating collisions even at lower speeds because the pedestrian gets punted forward,” said Shawn Harrington, whose company, Forensic Rock, conducted crash tests for us. “Before the driver knows what’s happened, the pedestrian’s head is under the wheel.”
More vehicles than ever have hoods that exceed the average American’s center of gravity, which is generally around the belly button.
Advertisement
The hood of an average passenger vehicle today is about three feet high. Anyone shorter than 5-foot-6 — about half of American adults — would frequently be rammed to the pavement. So would most children.
Advertisement
, who is , is likely to be knocked down by about XX percent of vehicles today.
In 2002, that number would have been XX percent.
Not only are the high hoods on larger vehicles more lethal, but their bulkier frames can also block drivers’ views of pedestrians.
Advertisement
To analyze how these blind zones have changed, we used a three-dimensional scanner to compare sightlines in four of the most common pickups today — the Chevrolet Silverado, Ford F-150, GMC Sierra and Toyota Tacoma — with their counterparts from the 1990s or early 2000s.
The Silverado’s blind zones have nearly doubled.
Advertisement
The Sierra’s and the Tacoma’s grew by about 60 percent.
The smallest increase was the F-150’s. Its blind zones grew by about 25 percent.
Our overall findings match what we found in court records and heard from dozens of experts who reconstruct crashes for police and lawyers.
Advertisement
One morning last year, Charlene McAlister, 76, set out for work at a child care center in Colorado Springs. “See you tonight,” she called to her daughter as she left their home.
As Ms. McAlister was crossing the street, a Ram 1500 TRX — a pickup marketed for its off-road capabilities and fierce-looking design — was turning left.
Advertisement
Ms. McAlister was not quite five feet tall. The pickup’s hood was at least four feet high. It hit her, throwing her to the pavement.
The driver later said he hadn’t seen Ms. McAlister, according to court records. They show that the truck’s large hood and side mirrors may have impeded his view.
When Ms. McAlister’s daughter, Serena, arrived at the scene, she saw her mother’s hedgehog-themed backpack and red purse in the road, spattered with blood. Emergency workers had draped a white sheet over her body.
Advertisement
Advertisement
Serena McAlister at the intersection where her 76-year-old mother was struck by a pickup truck.Rachel Woolf for The New York Times
Advertisement
Charlene McAlister was hit as the truck turned left.Rachel Woolf for The New York Times
Advertisement
The size of vehicles is far from the only reason that more pedestrians are dying, according to independent experts and industry officials.
“While vehicle safety is critical, blaming larger vehicles for pedestrian deaths overlooks systemic issues” including the design of roads, said Mike Levine, a spokesman for Ford.
Automakers say that new technology designed to detect and avoid pedestrians — including systems that automatically apply the brakes — would dramatically improve safety. For example, Bill Grotz, a spokesman for General Motors, pointed to a recent study that found that G.M. vehicles with so-called front pedestrian braking reduced the frequency of injuries by 35 percent.
Advertisement
The National Highway Traffic Safety Administration is pinning its hopes on automated collision-avoidance systems. Such technologies “are actively reducing the occurrence of these crashes and fundamentally shifting the risk landscape,” said Sean Rushton, an agency spokesman. “We view these technologies as the cornerstone of future mitigation strategies.”
But many experts say that technology is not a perfect substitute for drivers being able to view their surroundings directly. And tests by the Insurance Institute for Highway Safety, which studies ways to make driving less dangerous, have shown that many large vehicles’ automatic braking systems do not consistently prevent collisions.
Advertisement
The owner’s manuals for some of the most popular vehicles caution that safety technology can fail in a variety of common situations: in bad weather; at high speeds; if there are shadows on the road or its surface is uneven; or if a pedestrian is running, pushing a stroller, not standing upright or the size of a small child.
‘King of the Road’
Today’s S.U.V.s and pickups promise more: more seats, more space, more safety, more power, more domination, more prestige.
Advertisement
And, for automakers, more money.
They are the source of virtually all of the U.S. auto industry’s profits, said Mark Wakefield, an industry expert at the consulting firm AlixPartners. For nearly a decade, Ford and G.M. have said in their annual reports that their earnings depend on larger S.U.V.s and pickups.
Advertisement
The cost of making bigger vehicles is usually not much higher than it is for cars, because they are often built in automakers’ most efficient factories and the extra raw materials are relatively cheap.
Yet customers are willing to pay much more for them. The average sticker price for a full-size pickup is $70,000, double that of a sedan, according to Cox Automotive. (Some people pay more to soup up their trucks with “lift kits” that raise their suspensions.)
It is no coincidence that automakers have dramatically scaled back their production of sedans and other passenger cars in the United States. Ford, for example, went from selling more than a million in 2017 to fewer than 100,000 five years later.
Advertisement
What used to be utilitarian vehicles for construction workers are now marketed to the American masses, with messages tailored to specific audiences.
One common pitch centers on machismo. Automakers trumpet how some of their trucks have an “aggressive appearance” or a “piercing glare.”
Advertisement
Chevrolet Silverados from 1998 and 2021.
Other approaches emphasize the perceived safety of being the biggest vehicle around. “You’re the king of the road,” said Frank Hanley, a director at the automotive research firm JD Power.
Advertisement
At Ford, Nicole Gayney’s job was to identify specific social and psychological groups to target.
One was men who hoped to be seen as the neighborhood’s hero, keeping everyone safe, said Dr. Gayney, who left Ford in 2022. Another group was women who viewed a roomy S.U.V. as a way to be the community’s caregiver, taking the soccer team out for ice cream.
Advertisement
“We’re kind of in this American mind-set that bigger is better,” she said.
An Unintended Consequence
In 2009, after a spate of fatal incidents in which drivers were crushed in rollovers, the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration required roofs to be strong enough to support three times the weight of a vehicle. Many automakers responded by installing thicker A-pillars.
Advertisement
James Forbes, who was a longtime engineering manager at Ford, said that after the company began installing the fatter A-pillars, he and his colleagues noticed that they were reducing drivers’ visibility.
The drivers were safer, but pedestrians were in greater peril. “We were very much biasing safety toward the owner of the vehicle,” Mr. Forbes said.
Advertisement
Those potential dangers began attracting attention, with articles in the Detroit Free Press and Consumer Reports.
By 2022, the lack of visibility in large vehicles had become a concern for researchers at the Transportation Department’s Volpe Center, whose mission is to identify and address problems in the transportation system.
That November, the researchers met with leaders at the department and N.H.T.S.A. They delivered a stark message: Large vehicles, with their big blind zones, were increasingly deadly. They were killing hundreds of pedestrians and cyclists every year and injuring thousands more, the researchers estimated, according to attendees and meeting materials we reviewed.
Advertisement
The researchers hoped that their warning would spur regulators to consider how to address the problem.
But a senior N.H.T.S.A. official disputed the data and argued that new pedestrian-sensing technologies were already improving safety.
Advertisement
“There was just zero acknowledgement of the problem,” said Angie Byrne, a former Volpe Center employee who was involved with the research and attended the meeting.
The meeting ended with no plan for action.
The Closed Casket
Advertisement
The U.S. government has paid scant attention to how the size of vehicles affects the safety of pedestrians.
Federal regulators don’t collect much data about the heights of vehicles’ hoods. But we found one service that does: Expert AutoStats.
Advertisement
Our analysis shows a radical change in the makeup of American vehicles over the past two decades.
Not only have many drivers abandoned traditional cars in favor of S.U.V.s and pickups. But millions have flocked to vehicles with hoods that are more than 50 inches tall — like the Ford F-250 and Chevrolet Silverado 2500 — whose ranks have increased more than five-fold since 2002.
Advertisement
Percent of vehicles on the road by hood height
Advertisement
Source: A New York Times analysis of registration data from S&P Global and vehicle dimension data from Expert AutoStats.
To understand how a vehicle’s size affects a crash’s lethality, we built a statistical model. Our goal was to estimate how many fewer pedestrians, if any, would have died in a world in which vehicles had remained roughly the same size since 2002.
We started with a federal database that contains a nationally representative sample of crashes reported to the police from 2016 to 2024. We narrowed that down to those involving a single vehicle and a single pedestrian. And we added the data on hood heights, which wasn’t included in the federal database.
Advertisement
Our model then analyzed the degree to which different factors — such as hood height, weather conditions, time of day and whether alcohol was involved — affected whether pedestrians died.
Crashes are complex events, and the data we fed into our model doesn’t capture everything about each incident. And, of course, there is no way to definitively say what would have happened in an alternate reality where vehicles had not continued to grow larger.
Advertisement
But based on the best available data, the model reached a sobering estimate: The shift toward vehicles with higher hoods caused about 3,000 deaths from 2016 to 2024.
The estimate is conservative in many ways.
For example, it doesn’t include collisions that occur in places like parking lots, driveways or private roads, which are not part of the federal database. Hundreds of pedestrians a year are estimated to die in such crashes, a number that has been increasing.
Advertisement
Only in the past several years have researchers started exploring whether and how larger vehicles threaten pedestrians.
The Insurance Institute for Highway Safety, for example, found last year that vehicles with larger blind zones were substantially more likely to hit pedestrians when turning left.
Advertisement
One evening in October 2016, Margaret Lacey, a 57-year-old nurse, was taking her dog for a walk in Jefferson County, Colo.
She was in a crosswalk as Ernest Martinez, a 50-year-old construction manager, was turning left in his Ford Excursion. He later said he hadn’t seen Ms. Lacey until his S.U.V. was nearly upon her. His view had been blocked by the A-pillar, a crash reconstructionist found.
Advertisement
He slammed the brakes, but he still hit her.
The hood of his 2002 Excursion — large for its time but common by today’s standards — was nearly four feet tall. It came up to Ms. Lacey’s chest. The impact sent her flying. Her head smashed into the pavement.
Advertisement
Advertisement
Margaret Lacey was hit by an S.U.V. in a crosswalk in 2016.Lucy Garrett for The New York Times
Advertisement
When Ms. Lacey’s sister, Betty, learned of her death, she flew to the United States from Ireland.Lucy Garrett for The New York Times
Mr. Martinez leapt out of his vehicle and knelt by her side. “I prayed with her,” he said in an interview. “I just held her hand and watched her go.” Her dog also died.
Advertisement
When Ms. Lacey’s sister, Betty, learned of her death, she flew to the United States from Ireland. She wanted an open casket, following her family tradition. But her sister’s head was grievously misshapen. “The only part that looked like Margaret was her hands,” Betty said.
The coffin was closed. Her funeral was held at a Catholic chapel in Denver, and Mr. Martinez was among the mourners. “May God bless you all, and I pray that you all will find peace,” he wrote in the condolence book.
“I’m sorry.”
Advertisement
Rachel Woolf for The New York Times
Advertisement
Advertisement
Methodology
We used four main datasets to conduct our analysis: crash data from N.H.T.S.A.’s Crash Report Sampling System (C.R.S.S.) from 2016 to 2024, the most recent year available; N.H.T.S.A.’s Fatality Analysis Reporting System (F.A.R.S.); vehicle measurements from Expert AutoStats; and registration information from S&P Global from 2002 to 2024. The datasets characterized vehicle models differently, so we standardized the descriptions. Part of that involved using an A.I. model. We reviewed thousands of matches and found no errors among them.
To estimate the effect of hood height on a vehicle’s lethality, we narrowed the C.R.S.S. data to single-pedestrian, single-vehicle crashes. We excluded motorcycles and commercial trucks, as well as collisions in which the vehicle was moving backward. That left us with about 6,000 incidents.
Advertisement
Then we ran what’s known as a logistic regression. We took the following crash conditions into account: speed limit, bad weather, lighting, alcohol involvement, crash year, and vehicle year and whether the crash occurred in an urban area. We also accounted for the sex and age of the pedestrian and the driver. We included only crashes in which all these variables were available and accounted for C.R.S.S.’s sampling method.
We found hood height to be a statistically significant (p-value = 0.003) predictor of pedestrian death in a crash. The estimated magnitude of this effect is a 2.8 percent increase in the odds of a pedestrian fatality for every one-inch increase in hood height.
Advertisement
We also considered alternative models that included reported crash speed, hood angle and hood length. In all variants, hood height remained a statistically significant predictor of deadliness. Hood height had a lower effect in our model than in most variants, indicating that our estimates may be conservative.
We used our model to estimate the number of pedestrian deaths that would have occurred under two counterfactual scenarios.
In the first scenario, we decreased the hood height of each vehicle in our dataset by three inches, equal to the increase of the average hood height since 2002. We computed how much this change would reduce the predicted probability of a pedestrian death for each crash. We multiplied the yearly average reduction, which was about 7 percent for all years, by the total number of pedestrian fatalities in the F.A.R.S. dataset, which provides a national census of fatal crashes. As with the C.R.S.S. dataset, we also filtered to single-vehicle, single-pedestrian crashes with non-commercial vehicles in the F.A.R.S. dataset. This resulted in a range of 306 to 377 lives saved, or 3,077 in total from 2016 to 2024.
Advertisement
In the second scenario, we took a random sample of hood heights from 2002 and applied them to more recent crashes in our database. Across 10,000 simulations, this reduced the probability of pedestrian death by about 5 percent to 7 percent, depending on the year. That amounted to 222 to 361 lives saved each year, or a total of 2,624.
To measure the differences in visibility among pickup trucks, we used an Artec Leo structured light scanner to create three-dimensional models of the trucks.
Advertisement
We scanned four of the most popular pickup models: Silverado, F-150, Sierra and Tacoma. We scanned one of each model from the 1990s or early 2000s and one from the modern-day fleet. Before scanning, we adjusted the driver’s seat to the middlemost position.
Next, we used a technique called aperture projection to calculate how much space was visible through each window. We used these figures to determine the size and shape of the blind zones in front and to the sides of the driver, up to 50 feet.
We ran these calculations twice for each vehicle: from the perspective of a 5-foot-11 driver and from that of a 5-foot-6 driver. The differences were the same or smaller for the taller driver, so we used those results to be conservative.
Advertisement
We estimated the percentage of Americans under 5-foot-6 based on an analysis by Matthew Parkinson of Pennsylvania State University. The 3D Silverado that appears in the article was created with the help of Kevin Shain from Laser Design.
We consulted with a number of industry experts to develop and check our methodology, including Justin Tyndall from the University of Hawaii Economic Research Organization and Steve Summerskill at Loughborough University in England.
This much is undisputed: On Nov. 2, 2023, a guard and a prisoner at a federal penitentiary in California got into it over a straw sunhat that the officer had confiscated. The man — identified in court records by his initials, J.M. — walked out of the office, as Officer Sandra Munagay followed him. When he stopped and turned around, Munagay “cocked back … and punched me in my face,” he said in an interview. That is on camera. Munagay admitted to the assault and pleaded guilty this January to falsifying records about it.
But the more severe harm came after, J.M. said, in a hallway without security cameras. As Munagay kicked and hit him, she shouted to other officers that J.M.had attacked her. According to a lawsuit, at least three other guards then rushed in, forced him into a blind spot, and pinned him face-first to a wall. With J.M.’s hands cuffed, he says an officer then sexually assaulted him with an unknown object.
Advertisement
That night, J.M. was transferred to another prison, where a nurse noted bleeding and tenderness in his rectum, medical records show. That gave J.M. more proof than most people behind bars in his situation.
But guards still had near-total control over whether he could file a complaint, or someday sue over what happened to him. J.M. knew they could destroy his paperwork, claim it got lost, or simply deny him the forms he needed. And like he had experienced in other federal prisons, he says, they might punish him for even trying to speak out.
It’s the same dilemma presented to anyone who faces violence in federal prison: Try to file an administrative grievance and risk opening yourself up to retaliation — or stay quiet, endure the abuse, and forgo your chance to someday bring your case to court.
Under federal law, people in prison must go through the facility’s own grievance process before they can attempt to sue. That gives prison staff a “chokehold over access to the courts,” said Colin Prince, a civil rights attorney and former federal defender who is representing J.M. in his lawsuit.
Advertisement
“The guards functionally have power over whether a prisoner can sue them for their own misconduct,” he said. “The entire system is layer upon layer of bureaucratic insulation against accountability. It simply prevents prisoners from getting access to the courts.”
An attorney for Munagay said he and his client declined to comment. A spokesperson for the Bureau of Prisons, Randilee Giamusso, said she could not discuss individual cases or ongoing litigation.
An investigation by The Marshall Project and NPR found that less than 2% of grievances filed in federal prison in 2023 were granted. A majority were rejected for procedural errors or “administratively closed” for other reasons. The findings were based on a federal database, published by the Data Liberation Project, containing nearly 1 million federal prison grievance cases dating back to 2000.
But that data only includes instances where incarcerated people were able to file a complaint at all. An unknown number of cases, especially those involving physical and sexual violence, go unreported, as the same officers accused of abuse can silence those trying to seek help, according to court records, lawsuits, and interviews with attorneys, incarcerated people, advocates and former bureau officials. A recent report by the Government Accountability Office found that fear of retaliation was a major impediment to reducing and reporting sexual abuse in federal prisons.
Advertisement
Prison officials said bureau policy prohibits retaliation of any kind, and that they review and investigate allegations of abuse. In an email, Giamusso wrote that the remedy system is “a safeguard intended to foster resolution within the system, not a barrier to court access.” She noted that remedies related to sexual abuse can be submitted in other ways, such as “third-party reporting and [Prison Rape Elimination Act]-specific channels.”
But many prisoners disagree. “The grievance system is a joke,” said Jimmy Hodge, who was released from federal prison in early 2025. Hodge says he was abused in multiple federal penitentiaries, but was frequently blocked from filing complaints about it. “If you’re grieving over abuse, they’re going to harass you, they’re going to assault you, but you’re never going to get relief.”
Since the passage of the Prison Litigation Reform Act 30 years ago, which required incarcerated people to file grievances before attempting to sue, the rate of civil rights cases filed from prison has dropped significantly.
Lawmakers at the time were concerned about “frivolous” lawsuits from prisons overwhelming federal courts. Politicians pointed to one case where a person had allegedly sued over whether he received chunky or creamy peanut butter. (The case was actually about not getting a $2.50 refund for peanut butter returned to the commissary, which is the equivalent of hours of prison labor.)
“People talk a lot about prisoners filing frivolous lawsuits,” said professor Margo Schlanger of the University of Michigan Law School, who has studied prison litigation across the U.S. “But a huge number of prisoner cases are about really, really serious matters. They’re about abysmal medical care and awful conditions and failures to protect them from harm by staff or by other prisoners. They’re about sexual violations.”
Advertisement
Attempts to significantly reform the law have gone nowhere, Schlanger said. “Having a system that stands in the way and says, ‘You know what, because you filed that grievance after three days instead of after two, you are out of luck and out of court’ — that is a shocking betrayal of justice.”
People who are blocked from filing grievances can sometimes convince a court that the remedy system was unavailable and their lawsuit should proceed. But that is a high bar that may require documentation and the help of an attorney, which many people filing from prison don’t have.
As is, the law fails to account for all the ways prison staff can thwart someone’s attempts to follow the remedy process, attorneys say.
To submit a complaint, someone must obtain a form from their counselor or another prison employee and then return the completed form to staff. According to bureau rules, an incarcerated person must file on their own behalf, unless it is regarding sexual abuse — whether they are in the infirmary or solitary confinement or have a disability. They can receive assistance with their filing from “trained inmate aides,” someone on the outside or a staff member, Giamusso wrote.
For people in isolation, filing a complaint is even harder. “You can’t just walk over to a box on the wall that says grievances and put it in the slot,” said attorney John Boston, co-author of the “Prisoners’ Self-Help Litigation Manual.” “You’ve got to hand it to the correctional officer. And that right there is a prescription for mischief.”
Advertisement
Multiple people in federal prison said officers refused to provide the forms they needed. “I have had difficulty in obtaining the initial grievance form because the unit counselor who issues the forms was friends with the officer whom the complaint was about,” wrote Erick Hobbs, now incarcerated in federal prison in North Carolina. According to Giamusso, if someone can’t get a form, they can ask for help from any staffer, “proceed to the next step in the remedy process, or report concerns through alternative channels.”
Even if you can get a form, there’s no guarantee the paperwork will be filed. “I have had officers doing a ‘random shakedown’ of a cell, and remedy papers go missing,” wrote William Batton, from a federal prison in Massachusetts. Many said prisoners were often transferred to a new facility and lost their paperwork in the process. That halts a case, as any appeal requires copies of every previous response and filing.
People in federal prison have just 20 days after an incident to file a complaint. Those regarding sexual abuse are supposed to be exempt from deadlines, under the federal Prison Rape Elimination Act. There is no such exemption for physical violence.
“People who are the most hurt are often the least equipped to describe it and file a grievance promptly,” Schlanger said. “Requiring them to very speedily figure out exactly what they’re complaining about can be a very, very high hurdle.”
By the time J.M. was assaulted in California, he had served time in some of the country’s most notorious federal prisons. In 2020, he was held at Big Sandy penitentiary in Kentucky, where officers had an unofficial policy: If someone requested protective custody because they feared other prisoners, guards would beat the person asking for help. Then the guards worked together to cover up the attacks, according to court records. Six staff members at Big Sandy were convicted for their role in the abuse.
Advertisement
J.M. tried to report the abuse he received at Big Sandy penitentiary in 2020 to the Eastern District Court of Kentucky. The highlighting and redactions were done by The Marshall Project.
PACER
hide caption
toggle caption
PACER
Advertisement
When J.M. tried to report the abuse he said he suffered at the hands of Big Sandy staff, it only brought more mistreatment. “I have an 8th-grade education, I don’t understand law,” he wrote to a federal court in 2020. “I have been targeted, retaliated and abused for trying to exhaust my remedies. Big Sandy [staff] told me if I keep filing these remedies that I won’t ever leave.” In his letter, J.M. described being chained to a chair for 12 to 18 hours at a time with no “food water or bathroom.”
“Nobody should get chained to no bed for … hours for filing a piece of paper, no matter what,” J.M. said in a recent interview.
His plea to the court, like several others filed from Big Sandy at that time, went nowhere.
In one case reviewed by The Marshall Project, an incarcerated man reported being pepper-sprayed, choked, beaten with a baton and repeatedly called racial slurs by Kentucky officers who were later convicted. He tried multiple times to file grievances about the attacks but received no response before he was transferred to another prison, according to a legal complaint. When he sued in court, his case was thrown out: He hadn’t completed the final two levels of the bureau’s remedy process.
Advertisement
By 2021, J.M. was transferred from Big Sandy to Thomson penitentiary in Illinois, then one of the most violent federal prisons in the country. Bureau officials closed the high-security Special Management Unit there in 2023, after an investigation by The Marshall Project and NPR exposed a culture of abuse and multiple homicides.
In his legal complaint, J.M. said officers at Thomson also refused to provide him with grievance forms. In a survey of over 120 people who had been held at Thomson, conducted by legal advocacy group The Washington Lawyers’ Committee, many reported the same interference. “I’m gonna break your fucking hands since you like to write us up,” one man said he was told, after an officer confiscated his stamps and legal documents.
There are supposed to be other avenues for incarcerated people to report their abuse. But in a setting where no communication is truly anonymous, and the fear of retaliation is prevalent, even reaching out to the Inspector General felt risky, J.M. said. And it was hard to trust another government agency. “It’s like being in a house, and your mother or father is abusing you,” he explained. “And then you go and try and tell your mother or father, ‘Y’all abusing me.’ It didn’t make sense.”
In the U.S. Government Accountability Office report, published in May, investigators found that most surveyed prisoners said they could experience retaliation from staff if they reported sexual abuse. Less than half said they would feel comfortable reporting to the warden or a corrections officer. And many of the surveyed people didn’t know they had other options to report a sexual assault, like calling a rape crisis center or asking a family member to report on their behalf. The bureau agreed with the recommendations laid out in the report.
Advertisement
Fear of being targeted can hide systemic problems. At FCI Dublin in California, which closed in 2024 over widespread sexual abuse, officers frequently punished people for trying to file complaints, said Aron Laureano, who spent two years at the facility.
“They made it literally impossible for anybody to say anything,” she said. The first time Laureano filed a grievance, an officer came to her cell and quoted from her written complaint in front of everyone. “And that’s why they got away with it for so long.”
According to a federal lawsuit, officers retaliated against Laureano by placing her in solitary confinement, taking away her visits and phone calls, and confiscating her property. In one bizarre form of punishment, Laureano said, an officer made her walk around the prison yard, gather the eggs and baby hatchlings of geese who were roosting on the grounds, and stuff them in a trash bag.
Laureano came home from prison in 2024. “You went from one monster to another,” she said of navigating her time at Dublin. “You didn’t have anywhere to go. And I think that’s the worst feeling in the world. I told myself I would never put myself in a predicament like that again, ever.”
After the 2023 assault at Atwater penitentiary in California, J.M. was transferred to a different federal facility and locked in solitary confinement for making threats, insolence, and refusing to obey an order. In her official retelling of the incident, Officer Munagay had claimed that J.M. “walked toward me in an aggressive way” and that she “feared for [her] life.”
Advertisement
What happened with Munagay and the other officers followed J.M. to the new facility. “Everybody knew about the situation, it was funny to them,” he said of the guards there. “I had officers come and tell me, ‘Hey, drop the case, she’s got three kids.’” Staff also began threatening him, according to J.M.’s complaint. They told other prisoners he was a snitch, he said, and locked him in four-point restraints for hours, where each limb was chained to a concrete slab.
It wasn’t just the guards he was worried about. J.M. had seen employees turn prisoners against each other, he said, as payback for writing someone up. “If I file a remedy … my unit team is going to come … take everybody’s stuff, trash everybody’s cells, and say, ‘We’re doing this because [J.M.] complained,’” he said. “Now the other inmates are mad, ‘Oh, it’s your fault.’ Your life is in danger.”
Federal prison policy required J.M. to file his complaint at the institution level first, unless it was regarding a “sensitive” issue. Then he could mail a claim directly to the regional director. J.M. didn’t have enough postage, so he fashioned a fishing line out of plastic wrappers, and used it to trade food for stamps with other men on the tier.
His grievance was rejected. The bureau did not consider his issue “sensitive,” according to a federal database, and required him to file again at the prison level. When J.M. went to file an appeal, prison staff seized and destroyed his paperwork, his lawsuit says.
“He had been assaulted, isolated, trapped, and could not tell anyone who would listen,” his complaint states. “By mid-January 2024 … JM was expressing ‘suicidality’ to the mental-health department because he could not ‘participate’ in the ‘Administrative Remedy Process.’”
Advertisement
Nearly six months after his attack, prison staff dropped the disciplinary charges against J.M., as video footage showed Munagay had punched him. Federal prosecutors filed criminal charges against Munagay six months later. In June, she was sentenced to four months in prison. J.M.’s lawsuit is ongoing.
No charges have been filed regarding the sexual assault J.M. says he experienced. In 2024, there were 32 allegations of sexual abuse by staff reported at Atwater penitentiary.
J.M. has since been moved to another federal penitentiary out of state. His struggles with the grievance system continue. He’s trying to appeal a grievance he filed about not receiving his allotment of postage stamps, but he doesn’t have enough stamps to mail the paperwork.
“I’m resilient. I’m not going to give up just because other people failed,” he said about his commitment to keep trying to use the system. “I’m going to keep filing no matter how small or big the situation is, and hopefully something will change. These are the rules I gotta follow. This is the only way I got to fight.”
A person was killed Monday in an ICE-involved shooting in Biddeford, Maine, according to the state’s speaker of the house — just days after a federal agent fatally shot a Mexican immigrant during a traffic stop in Houston, sparking mass protests and demands for transparency and accountability.
“A person was killed. ICE was involved. State Police and the Department of Public Safety are now on scene to gather details and would expect the FBI to investigate as well,” Maine House Speaker Ryan Fecteau said in a statement on Facebook. “These are the details that I have at this time. I will provide further updates, as they are relayed to me.”
CNN has reached out to Immigration and Customs Enforcement and the Department of Homeland Security for comment.
Biddeford police told CNN there was a “police incident” in the area, about 18 miles south of Portland, and said there is no threat to the public at this time, but declined to provide additional details.
Maine Democratic US Rep. Chellie Pingree said she was “disturbed and angry” upon hearing the news of the shooting. She called for an investigation into the incident, adding a question directed at ICE officers: “Why are you in Maine?”
Advertisement
The incident comes less than a week after a man on his way to work in Houston was shot and killed by an ICE agent. Lorenzo Salgado Araujo was killed during a traffic stop in what ICE initially described as a targeted enforcement operation, though a source later said Salgado Araujo was not the target of the operation.
The shooting has reignited calls for accountability among ICE agents, which reached a fever pitch earlier this year after 37-year-old mother Renee Good and 37-year-old ICU nurse Alex Pretti were killed by federal immigration agents during the Trump administration’s operation in Minneapolis.
The administration dubbed a similar surge in immigration enforcement across Maine in January “Operation Catch of the Day.” The ACLU and other advocates filed a lawsuit against federal immigration agents for “abducting a lawful immigrant” during the surge.
Some community groups and advocates that rallied against the surge earlier this year have already started to organize in response to Monday’s shooting. The group “Maine Resists” has planned an emergency community rally in the city at noon. The racial justice and immigrant rights group Project Relief said it is in touch with the victim’s family.
“Gus,” a Tyrannosaurus rex skeleton, is pictured during a press preview at Sotheby’s in New York City on July 1.
Timothy A. Clary/AFP via Getty Images
hide caption
toggle caption
Advertisement
Timothy A. Clary/AFP via Getty Images
If you ever wanted to own an actual T. rex and not just a toy, you now have a chance. But it’s going to cost you some bones. Millions of them.
The Tyrannosaurus rex fossil known as “Gus” will go up for auction Tuesday morning at Sotheby’s New York City office. The starting bid for the dinosaur is $19 million and the auction house estimates it could sell for $20 to $30 million.
Gus was found in Harding County, S.D., on private land in 2021, according to Sotheby’s. The T. rex skeleton, which is 38 feet long and 12 and half feet tall, is believed to be from the late Cretaceous period from about 67 million years ago.
Advertisement
“Judging from the overall size and degree of bone development it can be determined that Gus’ skeleton belonged to a very large, robust, adult individual,” the auction house said in the listing.
Thomas Heitkamp, president of Theropoda Expeditions, the company that excavated the site, said in a Sotheby’s video about the discovery that nearly a thousand pieces were collected.
The creature is named after the owner of the ranch where it was discovered, Gary “Gus” Licking. He died during the excavation process, which ran through 2023, and was not able to see Gus fully assembled, according to Cassandra Hatton of Sotheby’s.
“Gary had for years roamed around his 6,500 acre property and seeing T. rex teeth and little bits of fossils and such, and he realized that there was probably something really important under the ground,” Hatton said in the video.
Gus is one of the largest and most complete T. rex specimens ever found, according to Sotheby’s.
Advertisement
It’s not the first time dinosaur bones have been for sale to the highest bidder.
The first auction for a dinosaur was held by Sotheby’s in 1997. The creature, a T. rex named Sue, was purchased by a few large companies for the Field Museum in Chicago. It went for $8.4 million.
In 2024, Apex the stegosaurus sold for $44.6 million, the most ever for a dinosaur fossil. It was purchased by billionaire investor Ken Griffin, who loaned it to the American Natural History Museum in New York for four years.
Paleontologist Scott Persons, who is the curator of natural history at the South Carolina State Museum, says dinosaurs fetching tens of millions of dollars reflects an “increase in market demand.”
Advertisement
“More and more dinosaurs are being sold this way and at ridiculous prices,” he says in an email to NPR.
He says people who can afford to spend this much on an auction could do more to support further research.
“A sum like that could endow a research program at a public museum of your choosing,” he says. “That would pay for a career’s worth of fieldwork, the discovery of whole new species, and the public exhibition of the findings.”