#RolandMartinUnfiltered - Trump's Project 2025: Up Close and Personal: Chapter 4-The End of Vaccine Mandates.
Episode Date: October 23, 2024This episode tells the fictional story of a middle school that opens its doors to unvaccinated students after a possible second -term President Trump eliminates Federal funding for schools with vaccin...e mandates. The story follows the school nurse, Stephanie Morris, as she navigates the influx of unvaccinated students and the resulting disease outbreaks that spread rapidly through the school and community. The narrative illustrates the real-world implications of the president's policy, with outbreaks of diseases like measles, whooping cough, and the flu causing hospitalizations and even deaths among vulnerable students and staff. The story highlights the challenges faced by the school nurse in trying to protect the health of all students, including her own daughter who has an autoimmune condition, without the backing of mandatory vaccination policies. Overall, the episode demonstrates how Donald Trump’s promise to defund schools with vaccine mandates could have devastating consequences for children's health and safety. We'd like to thank all the artists who volunteered their time to make this episode: Laurie Burke, Leigh McGowan who read the chapters & Audrey Hakes , Joe Walsh, & others who contributed character voices. Sound design by Marilys Ernst and Jonathan Moser. Trump's Project 2025: Up Close and Personal written by Pepper and produced by Pepper, Melissa Jo Peltier and Jay Feldman and is a production of Ovington Avenue Productions and The Bill Press Pod. See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
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Sometimes as dads, I think we're too hard on ourselves.
We get down on ourselves on not being able to,
you know, we're the providers,
but we also have to learn to take care of ourselves.
A wrap-away, you got to pray for yourself as well as for everybody else, but never forget yourself.
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Hello, I'm Bill Press, host of the Bill Press Pod, introducing another episode of this special
podcast series, Trump's Project 2025, Up Close and Personal. Today, Chapter 4. We very much
appreciate, by the way, the support that you listeners have given to this podcast series.
And we ask you again to share these stories with your friends and family who might not yet be motivated to vote at all.
We don't think it'll change the mind of Trump voters, but these occasional or yet undecided voters could be crucial to Vice President Harris winning the election and saving American democracy.
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And we welcome all of our new listeners.
If this is your first episode, you don't have to go back to the beginning,
as all the episodes are self-contained.
But if you're interested, you'll find the first three chapters in your podcast app.
Again, we remind you that the people and stories in this series are fictional,
but the policies that upend each of their lives and the entire country are all too real.
The situations portrayed are drawn directly from the pages of Project 2025
and from Trump's own words and promises.
Here's just one such promise.
I will not give one penny to any school that has a vaccine mandate.
Now, consider a few simple facts.
Among U.S. children born in the past 30 years,
childhood vaccines have prevented an estimated 508 million cases of illness, 32 million hospitalizations, and 1.1 million deaths.
So to understand how Trump's no-vaccine-mandate promise would work in practice,
the author of this series, David Pepper, imagines a middle school in Colorado where
anti-vax parents are finally allowed to send their children to a
public school. It's all hope at the beginning until nature takes over. Laurie Burke reads part one.
Sandy Kruger didn't know who was more nervous, Ellie or her, but she definitely knew who was
more excited. 11-year-old Ellie
was absolutely beaming as they drove the ten minutes from their home in suburban
Denver to Cherry Fork Middle School. Mommy, this is the best day of my life. New
friends, new teachers, and new life. Sandy looked back in the rearview mirror, her
nerves overtaken by joy. Who doesn't feel that way seeing her daughter smiling from
ear to ear? But beyond the smile, it was Ellie's entire look, which she'd spent days perfecting.
The new bangs that fell to just above her eyebrows. Every detail of her appearance
captured Ellie's excitement about the first day at the new school. At the same time,
Sandy couldn't help
but feel a sharp pang of hurt.
She had homeschooled her two daughters for seven years.
Seven years of prepping all those lessons,
night after night, week after week.
Seven years where most days were consumed
with delivering those lessons to two little girls,
seated attentively in small desks in their living room.
Sandy's homeschool duties had been her entire life. So when Ellie cooed,
new teachers, with such glee, Sandy winced. She'd been the math, English, science, history,
and art teacher all wrapped in one. The new teachers were her replacement, and Ellie was excited about them. Their older
daughter had always puzzled Sandy and her husband, Will. Ellie had always seemed happy learning at
home, and they'd worked hard to build a healthy social network with other homeschool kids,
along with her church friends. Still, from early on, year after year, especially as summers ended,
Why can't I just go to school like the other kids from the street?
The homeschooling had always proven successful.
Ellie was a strong student and took all her lessons seriously.
She'd aced any test they gave her.
Overall, she was a confident and bright kid, responsible too.
Then again, she'd been an extrovert since about six months old.
Loved large groups and meeting new friends.
Sandy and Will assumed that was the part of her personality
that drove her obsession with the neighborhood school.
Whatever the reason, it didn't matter anymore.
It was happening.
I'm so happy for you, sweetie, Sandy said.
Almost there.
She pulled her black Ford Focus into the right lane
of a busy four-lane road, then slowed as she approached the back end of the long line of cars.
As a diverse group of kids crossed the road a few car lengths in front of them,
butterflies returned to Sandy's stomach. These boys and girls look so much bigger than Ellie.
Two of them held phones in their hands. They probably all
used social media. Ellie never had. And isn't it great that Jenny and Rhonda are coming to school
as well? Sandy asked, shoring herself up. A number of other homeschool students were making the same
journey today. For the first time, Jenny and Rhonda had overlapped with Ellie in several
activities the local homeschool community did together. Each had spent the night once.
It is fun, but I'm so excited to meet new friends too.
Of course, but it always helps to already know a few kids at a new school.
Jenny and Rhonda's parents had also worried about switching to the neighborhood school,
but as with Ellie, the two girls were extroverts and wanted to be around
the kids from the neighborhood who always talked about how fun school was. So they'd all agreed to
do it together. Comfort in numbers. Maybe their little homeschool crew would stick together.
Plus, they'd had little choice. There'd been one non-negotiable that had kept Sandy and Will from sending Ellie to the school.
But that one obstacle was now off the table, thanks to the most powerful man in the nation.
And I will not give one penny to any school that has a vaccine mandate or a mask mandate.
On the one hand, they agreed with the decision.
It was consistent with their own beliefs.
Forcing people to inject their kids with dangerous vaccines was
just wrong. So they'd always refused to do it. Sandy was just 21 when they'd married and didn't
know much about vaccines. But Will, 31, had been insistent. I'm on all these websites, Sandy. I've
been doing it for years. I've read all the experts. They say vaccines cause autism, cause heart murmurs.
They create all sorts of horrible side effects in kids.
He considered himself an expert and had shown her websites
outlining the danger of these vaccines to the kids they planned to have.
And a lot of the politicians he liked said the same thing.
So even when they'd first married,
they were committed to homeschooling to avoid the
vaccination requirements of the local school. Will had learned even more about the vaccine
problem since, getting the latest updates online and through a WhatsApp group he was part of.
There is no evidence that I can see that a pandemic exists. There is no evidence that
SARS-CoV-2 has... Sandy never looked into it much, but COVID seemed to prove him right.
When the president, as a candidate, had announced that he would eliminate federal funding for schools that required vaccines, they'd cheered.
Vindication that they'd been right all along.
Then, after he won, he followed through and actually did what he promised. Two months later,
weeks ago, the local school announced their response. No more vaccine requirements. All
kids from the community could go there, which put Sandy and Will in an impossible situation.
The obstacle that had always kept Ellie from going to the local school was gone, and their bubbly, boisterous daughter would no longer take no for an answer.
She started asking about it the minute the school made the announcement.
Not only that, she didn't want to wait for the fall.
She wanted to start right away, after spring break.
So did Jenny and Rhonda.
So the three families took the plunge together.
So here Sandy found herself, driving Ellie to school.
Mommy, I know you and Daddy worked so hard all those years.
Her small hand patted on Sandy's shoulder, sending a shiver of affection down her back.
I felt so ready for today because of all you both did for me.
I'll never be able to thank you.
Any remaining sting disappeared, erased by a jolt of pride.
Ellie had always been mature beyond her years, both in her studies, making friends, and in expressing herself emotionally.
She and Will were in awe of their daughter.
The car inched forward in line.
There's Angus. Angus! Angus!
Ellie said, as a gangly 13-year-old boy from down the street walked along the sidewalk next to them, hunched from the weight of a full backpack.
The other boys walked with him.
Angus, she yelled out, knocking on the door.
He waved back, smiling.
Sandy's nerves fired up again.
Except for her cousins, Ellie had never interacted much with boys.
Plus, Angus's parents had always struck Sandy as odd,
and from all the signs in their yards last year,
definitely liberals.
They'd lost last year and were probably bitter about it
like so many others.
As Will said, they needed to move on.
Sandy squeezed the steering wheel to calm herself.
Ellie's a great kid.
She's mature, she's strong, she'll be fine. It was the pep talk
Will had given her last night and the night before that and all week before that. It's gonna be okay,
babe. Look, Ellie's happy and that's what matters most. And there was no way they could have held
her back any longer, not without deep damage to their relationship. Sandy turned the corner into the school driveway and pulled to a stop.
Here you go, love, she said.
First day of school. Enjoy it.
Ellie leaned forward across the center console and gave Sandy a kiss on her cheek.
I love you, Mommy. Thank you again. Love you.
He scooted to the right side of the car and hopped out.
Sandy watched as she bounced to the open double doors of the school,
surrounded by a flood of kids of all shapes and sizes, then disappeared.
Jenny and Rhonda were nowhere in sight, but Ellie couldn't have cared less.
She was ready to go and raring to go.
Sandy pulled away, sobbing.
Watching her daughter stroll away so confidently filled her with pride and broke her
heart at the same time. They'd done well as a homeschool family for seven years. Still,
her little girl was growing up so fast. And in this new school, it was about to go so much faster.
It's hard, babe, but this, it's all about just freedom.
As the president said, their new freedom.
Will and she had agreed to that last night, too.
When we come back after a short break, the story continues as we meet school nurse Stephanie Morris and her daughter Mimi of the fictional Cherry Fork Middle School.
You'll see how nurse Stephanie navigates her role as protector of both her child and all the kids at school. You'll see how nurse Stephanie navigates her role as protector of both her child and all
the kids at school. I know a lot of cops and they get asked all the time. Have you ever had to shoot
your gun? Sometimes the answer is yes, but there's a company dedicated to a future where the answer will always be no.
Across the country, cops called this taser the revolution.
But not everyone was convinced it was that simple.
Cops believed everything that taser told them.
From Lava for Good and the team that brought you Bone Valley comes a story about what happened when a mult-billion dollar company dedicated itself to one visionary mission. This is Absolute Season 1, Taser Incorporated.
I get right back there and it's bad. It's really, really, really bad.
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Binge episodes 1, 2, and 3 on May 21st and episodes 4, 5, and 6 on June 4th.
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And this is Season 2 of the War on Drugs podcast.
Yes, sir.
We are back.
In a big way.
In a very big way.
Real people, real perspectives.
This is kind of star-studded a little bit, man.
We got Ricky Williams, NFL player, Heisman Trophy winner.
It's just a compassionate choice to allow players all reasonable means to care for themselves.
Music stars Marcus King,
John Osborne from Brothers Osborne.
We have this misunderstanding
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Benny the Butcher.
Brent Smith from Shinedown.
Got B-Real from Cypress Hill.
NHL enforcer Riley Cote.
Marine Corvette.
MMA fighter Liz Caramouch.
What we're doing now isn't working
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We asked parents who adopted teens to share their journey.
We just kind of knew from the beginning that we were family.
They showcased a sense of love that I never had before.
I mean, he's not only my parent, like he's like my best friend.
At the end of the day, it's all been worth it.
I wouldn't change a thing about our lives.
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Visit AdoptUSKids.org to learn more.
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Now, please stay tuned after this episode when the author, David Pepper, ties each of the story elements back to specific references in Project 2025 and in Trump's own words. In this case,
his promise of no federal funds for schools with vaccine mandates. How this would
work out in real life is told through the story of school nurse Stephanie Morris as she manages
her daughter Mimi, anti-vax parents, and the certain outcome of Trump's dangerous promises.
Lee McGowan, the politics girl, reads part two.
April, Capital Monthly, Stephanie Morris, by Rose Cunningham. reads part two. April.
Capital Monthly.
Stephanie Morris.
By Rose Cunningham.
Denver.
Mom, there's a new girl at school who's just the nicest,
Mimi said as she looked up from her bowl of Rice Krispies.
Can she come over and play sometime?
Maybe spend the night?
Steph Morris, who was standing at her kitchen sink, rinsing the coffee cup she'd just emptied, twice, flinched for a split
second, then kept scrubbing. Three months ago, Mimi's question would have been a simple one.
Now it wasn't simple at all. Steph wasn't just a mom at Cherry Fork Middle School. She was Cherry Fork Middle School.
She'd gone through every grade, capping it off as cheerleading captain and prom queen.
After earning her nursing degree at U of C, she'd returned to serve as Cherry Fork Middle School's
nurse and had been there ever since. Things got more complicated when her son and two daughters
grew old enough to attend Cherry Fork.
Because every once in a while, being a good school nurse and a good mom,
Nurse Stephanie, as the kids called her at school,
versus Mom Stephanie, as she referred to herself at home,
came into conflict.
What's her name?
Mimi's question tapped into a dilemma that the school board,
teachers, and the administration had been wrestling with for months. And as the school's nurse,
Steph was the point person on all of it. Her name's Ellie. She's as nice as can be. Everybody
likes her. Steph nodded. Mrs. Weatherby, Mimi's fifth grade homeroom teacher, had mentioned that
all three new fifth grade girls had fit right in, bringing a welcome spark
to the home stretch of a school year already made endless by all the awful politics. Painful,
polarizing politics about books, about history, about bathrooms, and most recently about basic
health care. Can she come over, mom, please? Steph stared at her kitchen window, her wrinkled brow
exposed in reflection. She'd handled all the
paperwork for the flood of new kids, from kindergarten to sixth grade, Ellie included,
and it wasn't good. No one in greater Denver appreciated the dangers of it all more than she
did, and her own daughter had just called the question. Let me think about it, and I'll check
with her parents. Her stomach quivered. If it were Sam or Joni, her other two kids,
she'd fret less about the risk.
But it was Mimi asking.
For 10 years, Steph had been on permanent high alert
when it came to Mimi's health.
Is that a maybe? She asked.
Steph grinned into the window.
A look Mimi saw in the reflection.
Yes, dear. A maybe.
It was a rule Steph learned early on, which became even more clear-cut during COVID. When Nurse Stephanie looked worried, everyone worried. Happy nurse,
happy school became her credo. So no matter her mood, she always walked into school with a smile
on her face. But her happy nurse facade disappeared once she closed the door to her small square office.
It wasn't the conversation with Mimi now weighing her down.
I'll check with her parents, she told her daughter right before leaving for school.
Her parents.
Recent conversation with Ellie's and the other new parents were now replaying through her head
and stressing her out all over again.
The beginning of the school year used to be tough enough.
While teachers prepared lesson plans and arranged their classrooms for 20 new kids,
Steph was solely responsible for the chaotic process involving every child and family,
ensuring that all kids had their required immunizations.
That meant tracking down and reviewing the records of hundreds of families.
When an immunization was missing, as they often were,
it meant reaching out to parents, hoping it was just an oversight or data error, which usually
was the case. Sometimes the parents didn't have records, which meant she had to track
down those from their doctors. The worst case scenario was that the missing immunization
wasn't an error. The child had not received the required vaccine. And this is when things
sometimes went south.
In recent years, ever since COVID
and the onset of the crazier politics,
Moore questioned whether they needed the missing shot at all.
They'd read something or they'd seen something online
saying it was dangerous or ineffective
or was it really necessary.
She'd patiently explained the prevention benefits
and safety of the vaccine in question,
but always had the mandate to fall back on. And Colorado provided only narrow medical exceptions to that mandate, which helped
keep everyone safer. Every once in a while, an angry parent would call the principal, but consecutive
principals always had steps back. In all her years of nursing, only two families had left the school
over a dispute over vaccinations, a tiny price
to pay for a nationwide net of protection that had revolutionized health and dramatically extended
American lifespans over the prior century. The good old days, she said aloud as she sat down
behind her desk and let out a long breath. That's how she and her network of Denver school nurses
now referred to the frenzied start of school process, because it was gone, and for reasons having nothing to do with health. Of all people,
the new president of the United States had turned it all upside down. It had struck her as nuts when
she'd first heard it, his vague campaign promise to stop funding schools with vaccine mandates.
Even though he repeated it in almost every speech, she never took it seriously.
Just trying to win votes.
Why would anyone want to reverse a century of progress?
Or endanger kids? Or shut down schools?
Then, in mid-January, he issued the order, imposing the very insanity he'd promised.
Resending federal funding to any school in America that required vaccines.
Not just COVID vaccines, but all vaccines.
From campaign hot air to the law of the land in one day.
Just as bad, the order gave states and school districts
just 60 days to make the choice.
Unable to take the financial hit,
states scrambled to rescind their vaccination requirements,
leaving it up to each school district.
And almost every school board in America chose to comply, including Cherry Fork.
Stafford her fellow nurses had watched it all horrified by the decision and the
reckless rush to implement it. Before the order, she diplomatically
enforced clear rules ensuring kids were vaccinated and healthy.
With the occasional testy conversation, she'd grown skilled at navigating.
That old job felt like child's play now. Without a mandate backing her up, her job was pure persuasion, an odd combination of health cheerleader and innocuous saleswoman of common
sense prevention, but without any real leverage to keep the school safe. Worse, her sales pitch
was largely aimed at families living in anti-vax conspiracy land,
arriving at the school pre-triggered about the very topic she planned to discuss.
Eighteen families informed the school that they'd be enrolling their kids the first day after March spring break.
And from the first appointment on, the height of her new uphill battle became clear.
In the good old days, when parents discussed health matters with her,
they saw and heard a health professional giving the best health advice she could, and they listened closely.
Respectfully, Nurse Stephanie was one of the most trusted figures in the entire school, an anchor.
The new families? All they heard was politics. Politics they hated. Politics they dismissed.
Ironically, Steph had never been into politics. She voted for candidates of both sides over the years
and never watched the political shows.
But now she found herself politicized,
all for doing the medical work she'd always done.
And there was nothing she could say to these parents to change that.
Even gathering basic information about what immunizations
the new students had received proved nettlesome.
Diphtheria, she'd ask,
seated in a small conference room with wide-eyed parents, usually in a public school for the first
time. No. Meningitis, she'd ask, of kids 12 and older. No. Another no on the list. Hepatitis A?
The parents and patients grew, signaled through a huff or an eye roll.
Steph did her best to maintain a flat, judgment-free expression,
a hint of a grin, an occasional nod of the head.
Hepatitis B?
No.
Some parents answered no, not because they knew their child wasn't immunized for the particular disease,
but because they'd never been immunized for any disease.
But a few openly explained it.
Rotavirus, she asked one mother reading from her list.
Honey, I don't know what that one is,
but he's never had any of them.
You can just mark no all the way down.
Then there were parents who wouldn't answer at all.
Measles, she asked one burly father with a thick beard.
You asking this stuff, doesn't this violate HIPAA?
This is all our private information, isn't it?
I'll just assume it's a no if you don't want to answer.
Her list ended on the two best-known vaccines.
COVID, another mother practically yelled.
Are masks next?
For the final vaccine, Steph modified her tone.
And did you get this year's flu shot?
To her surprise, a few answered yes, but the majority still said no.
Although with less hostility.
As she completed the list, she braced herself,
usually taking a long sip from her ever-present water bottle.
Because the toughest part of each session was about to begin.
A minefield of her own choosing. She and her fellow Denver nurses had made a collective
commitment. Most of these folks had never heard anyone, let alone a nurse, explain the health
benefits of vaccines to them. They had only been exposed to the opposite, so they had no idea how
at risk their kids were. They had no idea that children
die every year from the basic flu. Over several calls, the nurses decided they had a responsibility
to make the case. Their job was to protect kids' health. And now that included these new kids and
their families. So they would walk through the benefits of vaccines, even though they weren't
required to. Can I ask you what you know about measles and the vaccine? Steph would ask, mentioning a disease she thought parents would want to hear about.
Oh, don't start with me, lady.
One father said, slumping back in his chair.
Is this the part where you try to convince us to stick our kids with your poison?
Move on, ma'am.
We're not here for a lecture from you.
Our president said we could come here without vaccines, and that's what we're doing.
For those that didn't push back on her short measles explanation, she'd proceed to other maladies.
But parents' patience ran out within minutes.
Listen, we are not going to do vaccines. Never have, never will.
You're wasting your breath and our time.
Another leaned forward.
Is this really part of your job, getting into our private business?
We know what's best for our son, and it's not injecting him with those drugs.
We're about freedom.
From dozens of meetings, she convinced three families to take the flu vaccine.
But unlike the past, she had no way to confirm they would.
Still, five potentially safer kids from those three families were better than none.
But the pit in her stomach from those first few appointments had never faded.
She knew too much.
It grew even larger when the 26 kids of those parents arrived four days ago.
As the school's hallway teamed with even more students, all she could think about were those sessions and the list of vaccinations she'd reviewed in each one. Just one of those no's from one of those families
could result in the infection of any of the other unvaccinated kids
now walking those hallways,
along with the high-risk autoimmune kids she'd kept safe all these years.
In Steph's mind, they were all dry kindling,
piled on top of one another,
which made a single infection a dangerous spark,
threatening rapid spread.
The odds for an individual school remained low overall, she assured herself,
especially if everyone followed her prevention measures. She'd added sanitizer dispensers
throughout the school hallways, she'd posted bold reminders to wash hands in every bathroom
and entering the cafeteria, and she'd made masks available. But across entire states and the nation,
odds were that some schools would see outbreaks
in the coming weeks and again in the fall.
The flood of new kids all at once was just too much.
Joining other new kids, plus old kids and staff
with health vulnerabilities.
Dry kindling piled everywhere.
Even low odds, multiplied across all those bodies
and all those
ailments, meant people were about to get sick. Once vaccination rates fell from
95% or so, down to the 70s or lower, the math was brutally predictable. Which
meant that soon, one of the nurses in her network would reach out, sounding the
alarm, and their network would respond with all the strategies they'd used
during COVID.
Triage the problem through contact tracing, testing,
informing parents of the spread,
and shutting down if things got bad enough.
Adding it all up, Steph figured school outbreaks
were about to become a national story.
But as she sat in her empty, quiet office now,
that didn't make her feel any better.
Because she was particularly attuned to even a low risk for one other reason.
Not because she was Nurse Stephanie.
But because she was Mom Stephanie, haunted by a searing memory.
At age two, Mimi had gotten so sick she'd almost died.
What seemed like a mild cold and cough had exploded into a 106 degree temperature and
a cascade of alarming symptoms that led to a rush to Denver Children's Hospital and a ventilator.
The look of Mimi in that little hospital bed, buried under all that equipment, chest undulating
as she fought to breathe, had broken Steph's heart for four straight days.
And that's when doctors first diagnosed Mimi's autoimmune disease, which made her
highly vulnerable to every illness on Steph's list.
The next Tuesday, from the same office, Steph led the first regional triage call among Denver
school nurses.
It felt like COVID all over again.
Spring break for East Denver schools had ended in late March.
The lead nurse of East Denver told the group that several days back,
three teachers had first shown cold-like symptoms.
Congestion, watery eyes, and a runny nose.
A day later, three of the new unvaccinated kids became equally sick,
along with two autoimmune kids, all third graders.
A day later, their fevers had all spiked.
With their entire bodies fatigued, the sick teachers went home.
And then came the symptom that stuck out from either a bad cold or the flu.
Most of their coughs are followed by a high-pitched intake of air.
And that was the tip-off.
The next day, tests confirmed the hunch Steph and the other nurses had shared on the call.
East Denver had a whooping cough outbreak,
and they had to shut down.
Right now on Denver 7 News at 5,
the push to get more people screened.
Too many teachers reported in sick,
and substitutes kept turning down last-minute assignments to fill in.
If it's already happening in East Denver,
it's going to get ugly fast,
Steph said on a call Thursday morning.
The math was inevitable.
The breaking news as the virus spreads.
She was right. Stories from beyond Colorado popped up all week, like a rolling wave. Each day brought more
stories. The Denver nurses started meeting on a 7.30 Zoom each morning, checking in on one another,
sharing best practices, and what they were hearing. It was hard to keep up. Measles broke out at a school in Pennsylvania,
Wisconsin, and Texas. Whooping cough in Oklahoma and Florida. Both flu and COVID outbreaks rolled through dozens of states around the country. Chickenpox in six states. A middle school in
Virginia had to shut down due to meningitis. There was even a polio scare in Kalamazoo, Michigan.
National networks broke into afternoon programming to report the news.
Unlike COVID, most outbreaks did not envelop entire schools. The adults and kids who were
most at risk were just those with pre-existing conditions or because they were old or overweight
or infants at home. Steph fumed whenever those it's not so bad narratives aired. It reminded her
of the loose talk during COVID
from the White House down,
as if the fact that it mostly affected seniors
somehow made things not so bad.
Here, millions of Americans had the very conditions
making them vulnerable, Mimi included,
and too many sick adults, teachers, bus drivers, and staff
meant schools were shutting down for days or weeks.
And unlike COVID, where the
entire response from national to local could be geared towards one infection, the current crisis
involved a wide assortment of vastly different diseases. No community could predict which they'd
be hit by, making prevention, testing, and containment far more complex. On cue, because
again the math was brutally predictive, fatalities began to rise.
Two students in New York were the first, not vaccinated for this year's flu strain.
Dead.
A cafeteria worker in Florida, measles, which had developed into encephalitis.
Measles cases in Minnesota, Ohio, and Utah killed three more when they triggered septic shock.
Two unvaccinated kids.
Another who'd been vaccinated but had a weak immune system due to an early bout with cancer.
Flu and COVID deaths grew.
Single digits.
Then double digits.
Tonight, a major escalation.
The nightly news shared their faces and names, along with gut-wrenching videos of bawling parents.
Unlike COVID, young people made up a large percentage
of the highly sick or dead,
which was traumatizing moms and dads across the country.
Another crisis was also brewing.
One in five measles cases ended up in the hospital,
and intensive care for some.
Since measles was spreading the fastest,
this 20% figure was forcing the entire medical
and hospital community to scramble for beds.
Add it all up, and the president's January order had triggered a countdown on countless time bombs across the country,
and now they were exploding everywhere.
Some of the worst potential diseases took longer to spread and show symptoms, but Steph knew they had to be coming too.
There was no more quiet time in Steph's little office.
She spent hours gathering the latest news
and implementing every prevention measure she could.
She had frequent calls with other nurses
and state health officials.
The old federal health experts were nowhere to be found.
As the news got worse by the day,
panicked phone calls from parents flooded her office.
Parents of at-risk kids called daily.
Worried teachers and staff stopped by asking similar questions.
Most of them had kids too.
She now eyed the calendar as a scoreboard.
Six weeks left in the school year when East Denver had its outbreak.
All was clear at Cherry Fork.
We're okay, she assured the callers.
Nothing yet. On Tuesday of the fifth week, two fourth graders complained of cold symptoms.
But that's all they turned out to be.
But the national avalanche of infection only picked up more steam.
Some parents stopped calling and just took their kids out of school.
We're almost at summer, she assured the parents, as well as the teachers who checked in in person.
We're almost home. No sign of infection.
Friday, she sent an all-school email to all parents and staff. All her planning and precautions appeared to be working. Week four. Four to go. Tuesday afternoon. Another knock.
On a call, Steph opened the door. Her jaw clenched at the sight.
I've gotta go, she told the nurse on the line.
Standing in front of her, grim-faced, was Mrs. Weatherby, Mimi's homeroom teacher.
Next to her stood Ellie, but it was the first time she'd seen Mimi's new best friend frowning, and she looked sickly pale.
Nurse Steph, Mrs. Weatherby said in a sad, empathetic voice,
Ellie says she's not feeling well. You're not feeling well? Steph asked, leaning down while using her friendliest voice to mask the
panic inside. Why don't you sit over here? We can see what's wrong. As Ellie walked past Steph, the
young teacher grimaced in her direction, shook her head. Ellie sat down in a chair where a generation
of Cherry Fork students had sat. What feels wrong, Ellie?
My throat started hurting a couple days ago, and my nose was running.
Now I'm coughing, too.
She placed her palm over Ellie's head, definitely warm.
She confirmed it with her thermometer.
103 degrees.
Ellie frowned, but said nothing.
Who knows what doctor's visit she's ever had?
Many of the new parents didn't seem to have regular pediatricians.
Open your mouth for me and say ah.
At first, nothing stuck out but the red inflamed back of Ellie's throat,
clearly from all the coughing.
Then she remembered.
Do you mind pulling your cheeks to the side?
With all the outbreaks taking place,
Steph had been reading up on how to detect
old diseases now making a comeback, before vaccines had eradicated the need. As Ellie
reached her right hand up to her face, Steph noticed the words on the one beaded bracelet
around her right wrist. Besties. Hey, Mimi just added that same bracelet. Ellie beamed for a
moment. Of course she did, we got them together. Then she tugged on
her right cheek and Steph immediately noticed them, just like the picture she'd reviewed. Tiny white
and blue spots on her cheeks inner lining, a dead giveaway. Except for how pale she was, nothing else
stuck out. Ellie, can you turn to the left? Ellie's lips quivered, clearly getting scared.
She turned to her left, and Steph gently twisted the top flap of her ear while pushing her black hair to the side.
Steph's stomach clenched.
The red, splotchy rash took up the lower half of her ear,
a sure sign that Ellie was on the front end of a measles infection.
But the nurse in her didn't panic.
Instead, she immediately began
planning out the contact tracing she'd do. Then she'd notify parents and kids Ellie had interacted
with, along with staff and adults. From COVID, she knew this would trigger alarm and tears,
followed by panicked questions. Angry ones, too. Despite all her precautions, many would first
blame the school nurse. Happy Nurse would do her best to calm things.
She'd also need to notify local hospitals.
The 20% hospitalization rate meant they needed to prepare as well.
Nurse Stephanie knew exactly what to do.
But as she looked down at Ellie,
another side of her wasn't calm.
Not at all prepared or put together for the news.
Mom Stephanie felt nauseous.
Her heart was pounding inside, her legs suddenly weak. And in her mind, the old image returned of little Mimi buried under
a ventilator, tiny chest heaving, fighting for her life, as vivid now as it had been in that hellish
week in intensive care 10 years ago. And it returned because when Nurse Stephanie took the first mental step of contact tracing,
she knew where it led.
Into her own home.
It included her kitchen, where they'd eaten dinner and breakfast.
Her TV room, where they'd exchanged bracelets.
Mimi's bedroom, where they'd stayed up late talking and giggling, then slept.
The bathroom, too.
Steph recalled when they'd tried different lip glosses and skincare products and later brushed their teeth.
Last Friday, she'd allowed Mimi's new best friend to sleep over.
They hadn't had a single infection at school.
The risk had remained low, and Mimi had really wanted it to happen.
Though as it always did, Steph's initial maybe had turned to yes.
And the two besties had an absolutely wonderful time. Trump's Project 2025 Up Close and Personal is available on all the podcast apps and at 2025pod.com.
Again, we ask you to please subscribe and review the podcast and most crucially,
share it with all your friends and relatives who need to know just how dangerous a second Trump term and Project 2025 would be. As I said at the beginning,
this may not convince Trump voters to change, but it could motivate people who've not yet decided
to vote or how to vote. Those are the people who could make a difference in November. They're the
people we need to reach.
And next, after the break, author David Pepper lays out the connections between our stories and the very real Project 2025.
I know a lot of cops and they get asked all the time.
Have you ever had to shoot your gun?
Sometimes the answer is yes.
But there's a company dedicated to a future where the answer will always be no.
Across the country, cops called this taser the revolution.
But not everyone was convinced it was that simple.
Cops believed everything that taser told them.
From Lava
for Good and the team that brought you Bone Valley comes a story about what happened when
a multi-billion dollar company dedicated itself to one visionary mission. This is Absolute Season
One, Taser Incorporated. I get right back there and it's bad. It's really, really, really bad.
Listen to new episodes of Absolute Season 1, Taser Incorporated,
on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts.
Binge episodes 1, 2, and 3 on May 21st and episodes 4, 5, and 6 on June 4th.
Add free at Lava for Good Plus on Apple Podcasts.
I'm Clayton English.
I'm Greg Glott. And this is season 2
of the War on Drugs podcast. Yes, sir.
We are back. In a big way. In a very big way.
Real people, real perspectives.
This is kind of star-studded
a little bit, man. We got Ricky Williams,
NFL player, Heisman Trophy winner.
It's just a compassionate choice to allow players all reasonable means to care for themselves.
Music stars Marcus King, John Osborne from Brothers Osborne.
We have this misunderstanding of what this quote-unquote drug ban.
Benny the Butcher.
Brent Smith from Shinedown.
We got B-Real from Cypress Hill.
NHL enforcer Riley Cote.
Marine Corvette. MMA
fighter Liz Caramouch. What we're doing
now isn't working and we need to change
things. Stories matter and it brings
a face to them. It makes it real. It really
does. It makes it real.
Listen to new episodes of the War on Drugs
podcast season two on the iHeart
radio app, Apple podcast, or
wherever you get your podcasts.
And to hear episodes one week early and ad-free with exclusive content,
subscribe to Lava for Good Plus on Apple Podcasts.
Sometimes as dads, I think we're too hard on ourselves. We get down on ourselves on not being able to,
you know, we're the providers, but we also have to learn to take care of ourselves. A wrap-away,
you got to pray for yourself as well as for everybody else, but never forget yourself.
Self-love made me a better dad because I realized my worth. Never stop being a dad. That's
dedication. Find out more at fatherhood.gov.
Brought to you by the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services and the Ad Council.
While the stories in this episode may be over, we're not done with Trump's Project 2025.
In a moment, the author, David Pepper, will tie the specific policies in Project 2025 and Trump's own words that predict how these outbreaks could affect thousands of children, teachers, staff, and families.
But first, a preview of the next episode of Trump's Project 2025, up close and personal.
Chapter 5 will give the frightening story of the Department of Justice becoming the Department of Retribution in a second Trump term.
As Donald Trump continually promises revenge in a second term, series author David Pepper imagines a meeting of loyalist prosecutors of the newly formed treason and political crime section of the Department of
Justice. Richard Schiff, Toby from the West Wing, narrates the chapter. You have a timeline,
cowboy? Yes, sir. We'll have this in front of federal grand juries in New York and Georgia
by early June, with indictments by the end of the month. Indictments of whom? Both prosecutors, some deputies, the New York judge, and his daughter, at least.
And the Secretary of State, we hope.
And his top staff, too.
They were driving a lot of it.
Can't be hope.
That guy secretly recorded a sitting president,
then humiliated him by releasing tapes to the press.
We've got to make him pay.
We will, sir. Good. Most likely charges? Reggie chuckled, trying to decide what not to charge.
A bunch tied to election interference, toss some fraud in, and of course, treason. Don't
overcomplicate this, Reggie. Remember, the president's top priority is
publicly announced investigations. Right-wing TV repeating the words treason and abuse of power
in every segment. That's the victory. Everything that follows is the gravy.
While the story is fiction, the threat is real. In the last 30 days, Trump has promised to prosecute President Biden, Vice President Harris, and Governor Tim Walz, and others who refused to hand him an election he lost.
That story on the next episode of Trump's Project 2025, Up Close and Personal, available on your podcast app and at 2025pod.com.
And one more time, we remind you that while the story portrayed in this podcast is fiction,
it's based on actual policies from Project 2025 and on Trump's own words.
Here's author David Pepper with the specific references in each.
Chapter four, author's note, David Pepper.
A boilerplate element of Donald Trump's current stump speech is his promise, quote,
to cut funding to schools with vaccine requirements, end quote. As he told a crowd in Wisconsin in June,
quote, I will not give one penny to any school that has a vaccine mandate or a mask mandate.
He used the exact same words in Virginia in March and again in May. Months ago, a Trump spokesperson told a reporter that Trump was only referring to the COVID vaccine, but Trump himself
has never made that distinction, and nor do the voters he is trying to woo away by bringing Robert Kennedy
into the fold. Kennedy attacked Trump as, quote, not being anti-vaccine enough, end quote. As the
New York Times wrote, quote, anti-vaccine sentiment has shaped Trump's campaign as well as the kind of
president that his supporters were liking to be should he win. Right now, Trump appears to be taking careful steps to
ensure that he doesn't lose any of those voters to the decidedly anti-vax Robert Kennedy Jr.,
who was running, this is when it was happening still, who was running as independent and who
attacked Trump over his handling the pandemic, end quote. Experts are clear about the risks of what
Trump is pushing. As Politico wrote,
quote,
public health experts say a White House opposed to immunization mandates
could potentially cause upticks in cases of measles,
polio, and other vaccine-preventable diseases
or hamper efforts to fight a future pandemic, end quote.
And one more time to remind you that Trump's Project 2025 Up Close and Personal is available on all the different podcast apps and at 2025pod.com.
And we want to close by thanking all the artists who volunteered their time to make this episode.
Laurie Burke, Lee McGowan, who read the chapters, and Audrey Hakes, Joe Walsh, and others who
contributed character voices. Sound design by Marilis Ernst and Jonathan Mosier. Trump's Project
2025 Up Close and Personal is written by David Pepper and produced by Pepper, Melissa Jopeltier,
and Jay Feldman. Trump's Project 2025 Up Close and Personal was written by David Pepper
and produced by Pepper, Melissa Jo Peltier, and Jay Feldman,
and is a production of Ovington Avenue Productions and the Bill Press Pot.
A lot of times, big economic forces show up in our lives in small ways.
Four days a week, I would buy two cups of banana pudding,
but the price has gone up, so now I only buy one.
Small but important ways.
From tech billionaires to the bond market to, yeah, banana pudding.
If it's happening in business, our new podcast is on it.
I'm Max Chastain.
And I'm Stacey Vanek-Smith.
So listen to Everybody's Business on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. will always be no. This is Absolute Season 1, Taser Incorporated.
I get right back there and it's bad.
Listen to Absolute Season 1,
Taser Incorporated
on the iHeartRadio app,
Apple Podcasts,
or wherever you get your podcasts.
I'm Clayton English.
I'm Greg Glod.
And this is Season 2
of the War on Drugs podcast.
Yes, sir.
Last year, a lot of the problems of the drug war.
This year, a lot of the biggest names in music and sports.
This kind of starts that a little bit, man.
We met them at their homes.
We met them at their recording studios.
Stories matter, and it brings a face to them.
It makes it real.
It really does.
It makes it real.
Listen to new episodes of the War on Drugs podcast Season 2
on the iHeartRadio app,
Apple podcast, or wherever you get your podcast.
We asked parents who adopted teens to share their journey.
We just kind of knew from the beginning that we were family.
They showcased a sense of love that I never had before.
I mean, he's not only my parent, like he's like my best friend.
At the end of the day, it's all been worth it.
I wouldn't change a thing about our lives.
Learn about adopting a teen from foster care.
Visit AdoptUSKids.org to learn more.
Brought to you by AdoptUSKids, the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services, and the Ad Council.
This is an iHeart Podcast.