COVID-19 cases in Mississippi have increased rapidly over the past two weeks, though overall numbers still remain low.
Mississippi has seen the largest percentage increase in the nation for new COVID-19 cases over that time period, according to local and state health agency data compiled by the New York Times. Mississippi’s cases increased 251% compared to 59% nationally.
The state most recently reported 701 new cases of the virus for a two-day period (Wednesday and Thursday).
“We do have transmission, there is no doubt,” Liz Sharlot, communications director at Mississippi Department of Health, said. “COVID is still here and our best advice is to get vaccinated if you have not, get your booster and second booster if you are eligible. Our concern remains with elderly folks that don’t get the second booster. It does make a difference.”
Even with the recent increased transmission, 80 of Mississippi’s 82 counties have low levels of COVID-19 at the community level, according to Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) data.
Jasper and Wilkinson counties are experiencing “medium level transmission.” At that level, the CDC recommends that people at high risk for severe illness talk to their health care provider about whether they need to wear a mask and take other precautions.
The overall rate of COVID-19 transmission in Mississippi cratered following the explosive omicron wave seen in January, but has been rising again over the past month. Mississippi’s 7-day average for new cases was 104 on April 12, but had risen to 337 as of May 12.
There has been an uptick in outbreaks among long-term care facilities, which state health officials said could be an indicator of increased community spread.
Actual numbers are likely higher because of the increased use of at-home testing that goes unreported to the state health department.
The omicron variant still accounts for virtually all COVID cases in Mississippi.
Mississippi remains one of the least vaccinated states in the nation. The only state that has vaccinated less of its population is Wyoming.
As of May 11, 60% of Mississippians had received at least one dose of a COVID-19 vaccine, while 52% had received at least two doses. The state has had more difficulty getting vaccinated people to receive booster does. Only 19% of the state’s population has received at least one booster dose, representing less than a third of those who have taken a COVID-19 vaccine in the state.
The largest share of recent COVID deaths in the state is among those who have not been vaccinated or are only partially vaccinated. That group made up over 47% of COVID-19 deaths in the state from April 12 to May 9, while fully vaccinated Misssissippians made up 17% of deaths in that period.
Although the state’s rate of hospitalizations has decreased as case counts have risen, those rates are a lagging indicator. The health department said the use of intensive care unit beds and ventilators for COVID patients remains low.
The availability of oral antiviral treatments for COVID-19, such as Paxlovid and molnupiravir, has increased dramatically in Mississippi since January and has helped reduce hospitalizations.
“How a Secret Meeting in 1971 Transformed the Global Economy” by Jeffrey Garten
What happens when the President of the United States brings the smartest guys in D.C. to join him at Camp David for a three-day weekend? If you are old enough to remember runaway inflation, long lines for gasoline, stagflation and other trials and tribulations of the 1970’s you might have a good idea. It is important history with some valuable lessons for the challenging times we face today.
Author, Jeffrey Garten is a serious academic – Dean Emeritus of the Yale School of Management, an experienced player in the D.C. arena where he served a stint as Undersecretary of Commerce in the Clinton Administration and successful author. His latest book provides important insight on how politics works at the highest level of the federal government, and how an emergency committee filled with high level intellects and big egos cobbled together a landmark program at a pivot point in American history.
The spring of 1971 found the Nixon administration staring down a financial catastrophe – a run on the government’s bank – not an old-fashioned cash withdrawal run but a foreign country run on America’s gold bullion. At stake was nothing less than the global monetary system that had enabled international trade and economic growth around the world since the end of World War II. The Bretton Woods Agreement called for the U.S. to exchange gold for dollars at $35 per ounce. America’s gold supply was perilously low, and rumors were swirling that the U.S. might close the gold window. This was a big deal that called for decisive action.
The Nixon team convened at Camp David included noteworthy big shots like Connally, Weinberger, Burns, Volcker, Peterson, Stein, Safire and Shultz. Their mission: solve the money crisis. The solution was shock and awe – the closing of the gold window was complemented with a charcuterie board of policies to include tariffs, tax incentives, investment credits and wage and price freezes. It was big, bold and self-described as the most comprehensive change in forty years.
“Three Days at Camp David” is an entertaining read for political junkies. It is filled with big talk, high IQs, giant egos, inside baseball, wheeling, dealing, sausage making, some sleight of hand and finally – unintended, far-reaching consequences beyond any of the participants’ horizons or wildest imagination. It is safe to say that no one on the team dreamed the price of gold and oil would skyrocket ten-fold (1000%) in the decade following the meeting. Or said another way – the dollar would lose 90% of its purchasing power.
The book is also instructive for entrepreneurs and investors trying to navigate a rapidly convulsing economic landscape in 2022. One only has to look at the unprecedented new policies and programs enacted in the wake of the COVID-19 pandemic. Add to those, the recent strict sanctions against Russian banks and energy exports. The long-term consequences of this smorgasbord of policies are unknowable
Frank Dungan, a former disaster and emergency planner for the federal government, is used to solving problems. The 61-year-old Madison resident helped communities recover after being blown away by tornadoes or flooded by hurricanes. He maintains a tough exterior – and a sense of humor – that doesn’t dare show any vulnerability.
But the situation he finds himself in has him both stumped and defenseless.
After being diagnosed with end-stage liver disease in early 2020, Dungan underwent dual hip replacement surgery, numerous procedures on his esophagus and tests by an array of specialists in order to qualify as a liver transplant candidate at the University of Mississippi Medical Center, the state’s only organ transplant program.
But because of the ongoing contract dispute between his insurer Blue Cross & Blue Shield of Mississippi and UMMC, he is currently ineligible for a transplant at the hospital. Meanwhile, he can’t get straight answers from either Blue Cross or UMMC about how much a life-saving surgery could cost or how he should proceed.
“I’m scared I’m going to freaking die, but that’s hard to say,” he said.
He lists out the array of people and agencies he’s reached out to – the governor, members of U.S. Congress, the insurance commissioner. Staffers for Sen. Cindy Hyde-Smith and Insurance Commissioner Mike Chaney made a few calls on Dungan’s behalf, but nothing has materialized.
“I’m not getting any help.”
Dungan previously spoke with Mississippi Today about the situation on the condition of anonymity out of fear of retribution from UMMC or Blue Cross. But after weeks of struggling to get clear answers about his health care from either side, he expressed desire to go on the record to tell his story.
Over the past month, Dungan has tried to get an estimate from UMMC of what a liver transplant would cost as well as an estimate from Blue Cross of the amount it would cover. (Blue Cross members can direct the insurer to send them the in-network benefit amount which they can then use to pay UMMC, though members are responsible for the difference in what Blue Cross pays and UMMC charges.)
He’s had no luck.
And because his case manager at Blue Cross directed him to get on the transplant list at Methodist Transplant Institute in Memphis as a result of UMMC going out of network, he asked the insurer whether the full cost of his transplant in Memphis – including follow-up care and rehabilitation – would be covered.
He can’t get an answer to that either, he said.
“What they’re doing to him is wrong,” Mississippi Insurance Commissioner Mike Chaney told Mississippi Today. “He has simply asked for what his estimated cost would be for a transplant. Both parties owe him an answer.”
Marc Rolph, executive director of communications and marketing at UMMC, told Mississippi Today transplant candidates “should be able to get a good faith estimate” of what a transplant and follow-up care would cost, though it won’t happen “overnight.”
It’s unclear why Dungan has not received that estimate as of Friday.
After soliciting help from everyone he could think of, Dungan is at a loss. He even considered purchasing health insurance off the public marketplace, but the language is unclear and he’s not confident in the coverage.
Plus, he’s already met his $7,000 yearly deductible with Blue Cross. If he started all over on a new plan, he’d be out thousands more dollars.
He asked one of his physicians this week to make the referral to the Memphis transplant center, but he worries he won’t even be accepted as a candidate.
“What if I go to Memphis or Birmingham for evaluation and they catch me on a day I’m not that bad?” said Dungan, whose Model for End-Stage Liver Disease (MELD) score, a determinant of the severity of the liver disease, has wavered up and down. “I just want to stick with UMMC because they have watched this rollercoaster in my MELD score … and they understand it.”
Frank Dungan pets his service dog near Barnett Reservoir in Ridgeland, Miss., Tuesday, May 10, 2022. Credit: Eric Shelton/Mississippi Today
Now Dungan, who pays nearly $1,200 a month for his insurance plan with Blue Cross and has developed relationships with his UMMC providers over the years, is facing a tough choice. And despite the fact the two parties recently agreed to mediation, it’s not binding – meaning either party could drop out at any point.
Dungan could wait for Blue Cross and UMMC to settle the dispute, but there’s no guarantee the two parties will, and there’s no deadline for them to do so. His other option is to move forward with a complex evaluation at an out-of-state transplant center he knows little about – and that may not even accept him as a candidate.
Dungan would prefer to continue his care at UMMC, where he is familiar with his doctors, has had numerous procedures on his esophagus and seen an array of specialists, including psychologists. He also doesn’t want to move to Memphis, nor does he want to pay for lodging, food and gas costs he would incur traveling back and forth.
Blue Cross doesn’t seem to understand the burden – both physical and financial – that getting on the transplant list in Memphis would be, he said.
“They trivialized it, is what they did in my mind. It’s a big deal to drive three hours for me,” he said, noting that he often has to pull off the road on long trips to rest because of fatigue associated with liver failure.
When he asked if the company was going to help offset the costs, he was dismissed, he said.
“They kind of guffawed at that,” said Dungan.
Cayla Mangrum, manager of corporate communications for Blue Cross, said she cannot answer questions about Dungan for confidentiality reasons. But she pointed to federal law that requires hospitals to continue providing care for certain patients and accepting in-network payments for a certain time period.
“This would be applicable to transplant patients,” Mangrum said in an emailed statement.
UMMC, however, told Mississippi Today transplant candidates are not considered under this law because a transplant recipient’s care extends far beyond 90 days and requires a lifelong prescription of expensive immunosuppressant drugs.
“You do not want a patient to get a transplant tomorrow and then their insurance (coverage) be gone by July 1, then they’re facing extremely high costs and have no recourse,” said Rolph, UMMC’s spokesperson. “That is just not responsible. It’s in the best interest of the patients to be listed with a facility they have confirmed … that they will receive coverage for the entirety of their care.”
The disagreement between the state’s largest hospital and insurer stems from UMMC’s request for an overall 30% increase in reimbursement rates for its services and Blue Cross’ refusal to provide that. The dispute has left patients – particularly those receiving care not available anywhere else in the state, like Dungan – as collateral damage.
UMMC has the state’s only organ transplant center in addition to the only children’s hospital, Level I trauma center, Level IV neonatal intensive care unit and other advanced specialties.
And because the details of the contract are confidential, it’s impossible for patients and policyholders to decipher much about what is going on. While specific Blue Cross reimbursement rates are private, studies show commercial reimbursement for inpatient and outpatient services in Mississippi is the lowest in the country.
Blue Cross is by far the biggest private insurer in Mississippi, with about 56% of the market. United, the second largest, claims only 17%.
According to UMMC, Blue Cross has essentially offered no increases in reimbursement rates since at least 2014. After an overall decrease between 2014 and 2017, the hospital negotiated a 1% increase in 2018, according to Marc Rolph, executive director of communications and marketing at the hospital.
Blue Cross officials disagree with UMMC’s claim but say they can’t share any specific information.
“The information provided by UMMC is not factual. However, we cannot comment further because the terms and conditions of the mediation agreement are to be kept confidential,” said Mangrum. “In addition, the underlying agreement requires confidentiality. We are disappointed UMMC has not only discussed the mediation but misrepresented the facts in doing so.”
As the back and forth between the hospital and the insurer continues, Dungan is trying to take care of his health and advocate for himself as best as he can. He recently bought a property on a lake where he goes fishing.
His diagnosis and this experience have changed his perspective on a lot – including fishing.
“It’s not about catching the fish – it’s getting to go,” he said.
U.S. District Judge Carlton Reeves, is shown in this photograph taken June 11, 2021, in Greenville, Miss. (AP Photo/Rogelio V. Solis)
U.S. District Judge Carlton Reeves of the Southern District of Mississippi has been nominated by President Joe Biden to serve as chair of the U.S. Sentencing Commission.
If confirmed by the U.S. Senate, Reeves will be the first African American to serve as chair of the group that was created in the 1980s to reduce sentencing disparities and promote transparency in criminal sentencing.
Reeves, who has presided over several monumental civil rights cases at the federal level, previously served as a Mississippi Supreme Court clerk, as chief of the civil division in the U.S. Attorney’s Office for the Southern District of Mississippi and in private practice for multiple years.
U.S. Rep. Bennie Thompson, Mississippi’s sole African American and Democratic member of Congress, praised the appointment this week on social media.
“I support the appointment of Judge Carlton Reeves on being named head of the United States Sentencing Commission,” Thompson said. “It is a pleasure to witness the first Black judge to be appointed chair of the commission.”
Reeves is the second African American appointed as a judge in the Southern District of Mississippi. He was nominated in 2010 by then-President Barack Obama.
The Sentencing Commission consists of seven members, but has not had enough members since 2019 to function. That inability to function has caused concern among members of the judiciary since federal judges across the nation rely on the commission’s work to set sentencing guidelines.
The membership of the commission must include three federal judges. No more than four members can be of the same political party.
As a federal judge, Reeves has handled some of the most high-profile cases in Mississippi, including the trial and ultimate conviction of three young white men for brutally murdering a Black man in 2011. He also issued the ruling that legalized gay marriage in Mississippi, has heard numerous cases seeking to limit abortion access in the state, and has been overseeing a challenge to the constitutionality of the state’s mental health system.
The Environmental Protection Agency is proposing to add a defunct chemical manufacturing plant in Hattiesburg to its priority list of hazardous waste sites around the country.
Hercules, Inc. produced hundreds of chemical products, such as paints, varnishes, and pesticides in the city from 1923 until 2009. Since its closure, multiple EPA inspections have turned up benzene and over a dozen other contaminants in the underlying groundwater.
After its most recent inspection in 2021, the agency proposed in March to add Hercules to its Superfund National Priorities List.
In 2016, the Delaware-based company, since bought by Ashland Global, settled a lawsuit with the City of Hattiesburg for $3 million after the city alleged that the factory “knowingly and improperly disposed of hazardous waste.” Two years before that, the EPA ordered Hercules to spend $1 million for groundwater remediation in the city.
Sludge disposal pits at the site of the former Hercules, Inc. property in Hattiesburg on Mar. 17, 2021. Credit: EPA
After its 2021 visit, the EPA said that the groundwater contamination extends outside of the Hercules property line, underneath an industrial complex and into a residential area.
The City of Hattiesburg maintains eight drinking wells within two miles of the site. While the EPA hasn’t found any impact to those wells, it said it will continue sampling the residential area, which includes several apartment complexes within a mile radius of the old factory.
The agency is receiving comments from the public until June 16, and will hold a public meeting on May 19 at the C.E. Roy Community Center in Hattiesburg at 6 P.M. The EPA will then take the comments into consideration as to whether or not to add the old Hercules site to its National Priorities List, or NPL.
Smoke stacks at the property of the former Hercules, Inc. facility in Hattiesburg on Feb. 9, 2021. Credit: EPA
Doing so would initiate an EPA-lead remediation process, after which the agency would work with the Mississippi Department of Environmental Quality and local stakeholders to redevelop the site.
Hercules would become the second location in Hattiesburg to make the NPL. In 2000, the EPA added Davis Timber Company, a wood-preservation facility, after detecting contaminants from the company in dead fish at a nearby country club in the 1970s and 1980s.
The redevelopment effort there resulted in an animal shelter at the site that opened in 2013, joined a few years later by a dog park called Fields of Barktopia. The EPA finally removed it from the NPL in 2018.
If added to the NPL, Hercules would become the ninth current site on the list in Mississippi, all but one of which were either a wood or chemical product facility. The other eight are mapped below:
!function(){“use strict”;window.addEventListener(“message”,(function(e){if(void 0!==e.data[“datawrapper-height”]){var t=document.querySelectorAll(“iframe”);for(var a in e.data[“datawrapper-height”])for(var r=0;r<t.length;r++){if(t[r].contentWindow===e.source)t[r].style.height=e.data["datawrapper-height"][a]+"px"}}}))}();
Three former state auditors say they would have recused themselves or limited their involvement in the investigation into Mississippi’s welfare fraud scandal to avoid perceptions of conflict of interest due to current auditor Shad White’s close relationship with former Gov. Phil Bryant.
White and his office identified the misspending and possible theft of tens of millions of dollars in federal money meant to help the state’s poor. But Bryant’s responsibility in directly supervising his welfare department director and the fact that some of the taxpayer money flowed to people and programs favored by the former governor are notably missing from his extensive audit report.
White also faced questions early on — and criticism from the U.S. Attorney’s Office — as to why he didn’t promptly bring in federal authorities, who have massive investigative resources, particularly since the malfeasance involved federal tax dollars.
The spotlight on White has grown more intense in the wake of Mississippi Today’s “The Backchannel” investigation, which showed Bryant using private texts to influence his welfare director and try to broker a deal with a pharmaceutical startup that enticed him with stock in the company.
Bryant has since acknowledged that the content of his messages “doesn’t look good,” but while the auditor’s office has possessed the records for over two years, it concealed them from the public and has not made any indication it has further investigated the matter.
White’s relationship with Bryant goes back more than a decade. He served as policy director when Bryant was lieutenant governor and was his gubernatorial campaign manager in 2015. Bryant appointed White as state auditor, a job that has been a launching pad for runs to higher office, and supported him in his subsequent election.
Those connections have helped cast doubt over the independence and rigor of the state welfare investigation led by White.
“The rule that I lived by was if there is any question whatsoever, don’t do it,” said Pete Johnson, who served as state auditor from 1988-1992, and ran unsuccessfully for governor, losing to Kirk Fordice in the Republican primary in 1991. Johnson said under similar circumstances, if he had such connections to someone potentially involved, he would have recused himself or limited his role in the investigation.
“You’re not only jeopardizing your integrity but the integrity of the purpose you’re pursuing … Those facts raise the question of whether or not it passes the smell test,” Johnson said. “And when those facts are looming out there, you’ve got to back off and ask will my involvement jeopardize the integrity of the investigation … I think (White) is a man of high integrity, but you asked me personally what I would do and that’s it.”
Former Mississippi Gov. Ray Mabus served as state auditor from 1984 to 1988. He worked closely with federal authorities in the “Operation Pretense” investigation and prosecution of widespread county government corruption across Mississippi. Mabus said that given White’s ties to Bryant, he should have handed off his lead role in investigating to someone else.
“Look, if you’re going to give the taxpayers confidence that investigations are being done impartially and objectively, even if this one is being done that way, it’s never going to look that way because of their closeness, and nobody’s going to believe that punches weren’t pulled,” Mabus said.
“… I guess a similar situation would have been if I ever learned something about (former Gov.) William Winter, whom I worked for as governor and a little bit on a campaign and I was his legal counsel,” Mabus said. “William Winter is the very last person who would ever do anything like that, but if I had come across evidence, I would have removed myself. Especially if I wasn’t going to take strong action on it, I would turn it over to somebody else.”
Steve Patterson was state auditor from 1992 to 1996, when he resigned after pleading guilty to a misdemeanor charge of using a false affidavit to buy a car tag. In 2009 he was sentenced to two years in federal prison for his role in a judicial bribery case.
Patterson said that were he in White’s position, “I would hope that I would have recused myself or brought the attorney general in to do the investigation.”
“Having said that, it’s a timing thing,” Patterson said. “You get those complaints that come in, and it’s what did you know and when did you know it. Knowing what we know now, clearly he should have recused himself and should be recusing himself now.”
Former Auditor Stacey Pickering, whom Bryant replaced with White, declined comment.
White as auditor has burnished a reputation as a hard-charging defender of state tax dollars, and was credited with unmasking a massive scheme in the 2019 welfare scandal. But some holes in the audit have since emerged, especially relating to Bryant’s involvement behind the scenes.
The Mississippi Today investigation revealed that the former governor assisted a company called Prevacus, which improperly received welfare money, and he was poised to receive stock in the company until White’s office made arrests and announced its investigation.
The text messages between Bryant, the owner of Prevacus and retired NFL star Brett Favre have been in the possession of the auditor’s office for more than two years. They show the two men telling Bryant the company had received public funds, and that the governor intended to make his own business deal with Prevacus after he left office. But White did not reveal that storyline to the public.
Instead, White has credited Bryant as the “whistle blower” who prompted his investigation, and said that it was Bryant’s welfare director’s responsibility to know the law and refuse any improper directives from the governor.
Questions about if and when White’s office alerted other authorities to the text messages remain. The auditor’s office refused to turn the messages over to Mississippi Today after a public records request, and the outlet has a pending Ethics Commission records complaint against the office.
White and numerous other officials have declined comment on the case for months citing a gag order from a state judge.
But in an October 2021 interview with Mississippi Today — before the judge strengthened the gag order in the case to further restrict White — the auditor said he had not seen instances of Bryant directing his welfare chief to spend federal money on specific programs. Mississippi Today later obtained communications between the governor and principal players in the scandal discussing the allocation of financial aid.
White also said then that it was the welfare director’s duty to reject improper requests from the governor, not the governor’s responsibility to know the rules and laws.
An early oddity in the auditor’s probe came when White went to the Hinds County District Attorney’s Office — notoriously understaffed and suffering huge backlogs of cases — after he launched an eight-month investigation without notifying federal authorities.
Then-Southern District U.S. Attorney Mike Hurst in early 2020 issued a release noting, “We in the United States Attorney’s Office and the FBI only learned … from media reports about the indictments and arrests, at the same time the general public did.”
“While we commend the reported actions, neither the FBI nor the United States Attorney’s Office was contacted by the State Auditor or the Hinds County District Attorney about this investigation, although millions of federal dollars are alleged to have been stolen.”
White at the time said that his office moved swiftly and without notifying or involving federal authorities so as to halt the scheme before any more money was misspent or stolen. White has pointed to slow action by federal authorities as justification for his agency investigating and making the arrests. More than two years later, federal authorities have not brought any charges related to the welfare scandal.
White did face questions about Bryant, given that the former governor’s director of human services and close friends of Bryant were among those arrested and indicted, and the malfeasance appeared to involve programs or companies Bryant had championed. But shortly after the arrests, White said that then-Gov. Bryant was actually the whistleblower who prompted the auditor’s office investigation.
Federal criminal investigations are notoriously slow, but also notoriously thorough. Their vast undercover, wiretap and other resources allow the FBI and DOJ to cast wide nets over criminal conspiracies.
Hurst, in his statement at the time of the arrests, noted, “Investigating and prosecuting cases of this magnitude and complexity is routinely what the FBI and U.S. Attorney’s Offices do here in Mississippi and around the country.”
Hurst, a Trump administration appointee who left office in early 2021, declined a recent request for comment on the case.
White has said that after his initial eight-month investigation and arrests, he has involved federal authorities and turned over everything his investigators have.
Nearly three years after the massive scandal involving at least $77 million in misspent or stolen federal welfare dollars, the state Department of Human Services on Monday announced a civil lawsuit attempting to claw back $24 million from famous former athletes and pro wrestlers — including Bryant’s friend Brett Favre and Ted “The Million Dollar Man” DiBiase – among others.
It’s unclear where any continuing federal or state investigations stand at this point. No further arrests have been made since White’s office initially arrested six people in February of 2020 — Bryant’s head of DHS and another agency employee, former pro wrestler Brett DiBiase, a nonprofit and private school owner and her son and an accountant that worked for them. Four out of six have since pleaded guilty to state charges.
In a statement about the DHS lawsuit White said: “We will continue to work alongside our federal partners — who have been given access to all our evidence for more than two years — to make sure the case is fully investigated.”
Bryant’s appointment of his former campaign manager and policy director White as state auditor in 2018 was something of a surprise to most political observers. Bryant said at the time that he wanted someone with “independence” who did not have numerous political relationships and ties to the government officials and institutions he would be auditing.
At White’s swearing in as auditor after he appointed him, Bryant said: “When I was auditor, I used to enjoy saying, ‘In God we trust. All others, we audit.’ Shad, you’re welcome to use that.”
Editor’s note: A full list of cities and counties that opted out are included at the bottom of this story.
At least 28 cities and a dozen counties completely opted out of Mississippi’s medical marijuana program by the May 3 deadline, but the state’s health department isn’t keeping an official list of all the municipalities restricting cannabis businesses.
It is also unclear if the Department of Revenue, the other state agency charged with running and overseeing the program, has any sort of official list of local governments who don’t want to participate. The agency didn’t respond to a request for comment by the time of publishing.
Both agencies will soon be accepting applications to administer licenses for the state’s long-awaited medical marijuana program.
The Mississippi State Department of Health does have an optional verification form for municipalities on its website, but in a statement MSDH said “there is no mandate for local governments to report to us that they are opting out.” The department also said it does not have a comprehensive list.
As a result, the most complete list showing which areas have opted out of the program was put together by the Mississippi Cannabis Trade Association, a business and advocate group. Their list shows cities around Jackson and counties in the Delta choosing not to allow dispensaries, cultivation and production facilities to open in their areas.
Ken Newburger, the director of the Mississippi Medical Marijuana Association, said the law itself didn’t include a directive for municipalities to report. At the same time, the lack of an official list at this point shouldn’t embolden anyone to attempt to get around the system when it’s time to put in applications, he said.
“If you try to open a dispensary in a city that has opted out, the local officials have every power to 1. Stop you and 2. Report you to the state,” Newburger said.
There has been some confusion in the week after the opt-out deadline. Flowood, for example, voted to opt out of all three categories the law allows cities to have a say in: distribution, cultivation, and processing products. Yet, some thought the city must have opted in because it will have a testing facility.
But testing facilities aren’t one of the categories municipalities can control – so the city’s medical marijuana status won’t affect the testing facility slated to open there.
Each county’s decision to opt out only covers its unincorporated areas, meaning some cities within opt-out counties are still able to have businesses in the program. Patients who live in opt-out areas can still possess and take medical marijuana.
The trade association is working with advocates and entrepreneurs in opt-out areas to sign petitions that would trigger a special election over the matter. Local governments that opted out also have the choice to opt back in at any time.
Those that didn’t opt out by the May 3 deadline, however, don’t have any flexibility.
Beginning in June, the health department says it plans to begin accepting online applications for licenses for patients, medical practitioners, cultivation facilities, processing facilities, testing facilities, waste disposal businesses and transportation businesses.
The Department of Revenue is responsible for licensing dispensaries and will start accepting applications in July. The agency now has waiver forms available that allow potential businesses to get permission from schools or churches to operate if they’re less than 1,000 feet away but no closer than 500 feet.
Without a waiver, dispensaries must be at least 1,000 feet away. The law also doesn’t allow dispensaries to be within 1,500 feet of each other.
Melvin Robinson III, the spokesman for the trade association, said so far the early stages of the program and its rules are rolling out as expected.
“Everyone is excited as it gets closer to the date,” Robinson said.
Given the interest, Robinson said he won’t be surprised if the agencies handling licensing wind up hitting a backlog in applications. He expects their websites to be swamped once they start accepting online applications this summer.
Newberger said the health department is using a portal for applications that has been used and tested in other states. He, too, expected an application rush.
“Not everyone who applies is going to get one,” he said.
The Department of Health has said it plans on a 30-day approval period for its business and physician related licenses and a five-day period for patients.
Cities that opted out of dispensaries and cultivation/processing
Armory
Belmont
Brandon
Booneville
Caledonia
Carrollton
Clinton
D’Iberville
Ecru
Flora
Gluckstad
Greenwood
Horn Lake
Kilmichael
Lucedale
Madison
New Albany
Noxapater
Pass Christian
Picayune
Poplarville
Pontotoc
Ridgeland
Southaven
Sumrall
Tishomingo
Vaiden
Cities that don’t allow dispensaries but do allow cultivation and processing
Winona
North Carrollton
Counties that opted out of dispensaries and cultivation/processing (only applies to unincorporated areas)
Carroll County
George County
Leflore County
Lincoln County
Newton County
Neshoba County
Pearl River County
Pontotoc County
Tippah County
Union County
Choctaw County
Lauderdale County
Counties that don’t allow cultivation but do allow dispensaries (only applies to unincorporated areas)
Madison County
Counties that don’t allow dispensaries but do allow cultivation/processing (only applies to unincorporated areas)
Veteran civil rights attorney Carroll Rhodes of Hazlehurst said Tuesday that talks are ongoing over whether to file a lawsuit challenging the 174 state legislative districts for diluting the voting strength of Mississippi’s minority population.
Rhodes, who has been involved for decades in efforts to ensure Black voters have opportunities to elect candidates of their choice, said the NAACP, Southern Poverty Law Center, American Civil Liberties Union and others are still debating whether to challenge the redistricting plan approved by the Legislature during the 2022 session as unconstitutional.
“There are additional districts to be created for Black voters to elect candidates of their choice,” Rhodes said Tuesday during a virtual media presentation by multiple attorneys involved in redistricting litigation throughout the country.
During the 2022 session, the Mississippi Legislature enacted a “status quo” redistricting plan, Rhodes pointed out. Under the plan, 42 of the state’s 122 House districts are majority African American, while 15 of the 52 Senate districts have majority Black populations.
The redistricting plan was approved even though based on the 2020 U.S. Census data the state’s non-white population grew during the last 10 years while the state’s white population decreased significantly.
Based on the 2020 Census, Mississippi’s white population decreased 95,791 people the past 10 years to 1,658,893. During the same time period, the Black population declined just 13,940 to 1,084,481. Other minority groups experienced slight upticks, though still making up a much smaller percentage of the state’s overall population when compared to the white and African American population.
The percentage of Mississippians identifying as other than solely white or African American was 3.85% in 2010, and now stands at 7.36%, according to Census data.
Under the plan approved by the Legislature and facing a possible federal lawsuit, 29% of the Senate districts are majority African American while 34% of the House districts are. Based on the 2020 Census, the state’s African American or partially African American population is 38%, while the white population is 59%.
During the media presentation, Rhodes said the lawsuit challenging the constitutionality of the redistricting plan approved by the Legislature for the four U.S. House districts is ongoing. No one is certain whether the three judge federal panel that is hearing the congressional lawsuit will rule before the 2022 election. The party primary election for the House seats is June 7. The general election is slated for November.
Rhodes, who is representing the NAACP in the congressional U.S. House redistricting lawsuit, said there is more time to decide whether to challenge the newly drawn state legislative districts since those elections will not occur until 2023.
HATTIESBURG — Janice Jones scanned the growing crowd, her brown eyes squinting in the bright sun.
About 30 people, some wearing red t-shirts and holding signs, were gathering at a fountain near University of Southern Mississippi’s Danforth Chapel for a protest. The group planned to march to President Rodney Bennett’s office and deliver more than 250 pledge cards calling on him to raise the university’s minimum wage to $15 an hour.
All week, Jones and her fellow custodians had talked about attending. Custodians she didn’t know had stopped her in the hall to ask if she was going. But now it was fifteen minutes past four, the rally was set to start, and only one of Jones’ coworkers had shown up.
“Most of them are Black,” she said. “I’m looking, and I’m like, where are all the Black faces?”
Jones has worked as a custodian at USM for about three years. She hadn’t intended to stay for long until a car accident at the start of the pandemic left her scrambling to save for knee surgery. These days, she clocks in just before 5 a.m. for her shift, cleaning toilets, sanitizing desks and door handles, and sweeping sunflower seeds from between seats in the M.M. Roberts Stadium. For that work, Jones makes about $10 an hour, the lowest wage on campus.
Janice Jones joined other protesters calling for a living wage and to unionize at the University of Southern Mississippi, Thursday, May 5, 2022. Credit: Vickie D. King/Mississippi Today
Shortly before her car accident, Jones learned about a group called United Campus Workers (UCW). The labor union, an affiliate of Communication Workers of America, was looking for custodians to join its “Fight for $15” campaign, and she quickly got involved in the chapter. But the pandemic made it difficult to organize. As USM went “back to normal,” turnover increased. Jones said it felt like the workload tripled. USM started bussing Jones and the remaining custodians around campus, often requiring them to work “mandatory overtime” at 1.5 times their typical hourly pay.
Then in January, Bennett, who made history when he became USM’s first Black president eight years ago, announced his intent to step down in 2023. Jones and other members of UCW spotted an opportunity. One of Bennett’s first acts as president had been to establish the $10 minimum wage on campus — UCW thought maybe that could be one of Bennett’s last acts too. So about a month ago, UCW members got together and voted to hold a protest the first week of May.
In front of the fountain, Jones tried to put her coworkers out of her mind as Samuel Ewing, another UCW member, climbed onto a concrete hedge to start the rally. Through a megaphone, Ewing told the crowd that he was one of the many workers on campus who made far less than $10 an hour. As an adjunct professor, he had taught four classes this past year and made just $12,000.
UCW’s campaign to raise the minimum wage to $15 an hour, he said, would benefit “a broad swath” of workers on campus.
“I’m talking custodial, janitorial workers, these are library workers, administrators — the people who run this university, who make this place what it is,” he said. “If we want to be a place that’s welcoming to students, that’s supporting the students, we’ve got to support the people who make this university work.”
“The university is going to raise the wage,” Ewing continued, “but they’re only gonna do it if we demand it. They’re only gonna do it if we show them that we want it, that we deserve it, that we need it, and that we’re gonna build a healthy community.”
“Yes, yes!” Jones said, nodding her head.
It was February 2020, and Jones was taking her 12 o’clock break outside the liberal arts building when a tall, white man with long hair approached her. His name was John Jester, he said, and he was an organizer with United Campus Workers. Did she have some time to talk about the union?
UCW organizer John Jester (right), Janice Jones (center), and J. Theresa Bush (left) head to the office of USM president Rodney Bennett, to deliver a list of supporters calling for a living wage during a rally at the University of Southern Mississippi in Hattiesburg, Thursday, May 4, 2022. Credit: Vickie D. King/Mississippi Today
As Jones smoked a cigarette, Jester started his spiel. UCW got its start in 2000, he said, when a group of faculty, student workers and community members at the University of Tennessee, Knoxville, voted to form a “wall-to-wall” union that any employee could join. Now, amid a national wave of unionization, UCW was on a mission to organize higher education in the South — a difficult task in Mississippi, considering state law bans public employees from going on strike.
“We’re not trying to go for an election,” Jester said. “It’s really about bringing all the different constituencies around campus together — faculty, tenured and non-tenured, grad staff, facilities and maintenance — and just identifying the issues that need to be changed.”
If Jester wanted custodians to join UCW, Jones said there were a lot of places he could start.For one, custodians needed a significant raise. Most took on extra jobs to make ends meet; at the time, Jones was working for a temp agency.
Another issue, Jones said, was the attendance-based point system used by the Physical Plant, the department that oversees custodians. Per the policy, custodians can accrue points for missing a shift, clocking in late, or leaving early — accumulating 10 points can result in dismissal. The policy was intended to curb excessive absences, but Jones said she felt like it was regularly misused. She said she was one of many custodians who were given points even after providing human resources with a doctor’s note.
About a month later, the pandemic hit Mississippi. Jones was driving a van for her second job when she got into an accident and tore a ligament in her right knee. She requested accommodations at USM, butthe best the school could do was limit the time she spent cleaning stairs. To this day, Jones wears a blue brace because she is still saving to pay for surgery.
“They explained there’s no such thing as ‘light duty’ out here,” she said. “You either can do the job or you can’t.”
Jones gave Jester her phone number that day in February 2020. Over the course of the next year, she regularly joined him outside the gate of the Physical Plant to talk to her coworkers about unionizing.
When Jones talked to coworkers about the union, she tried to explain it through her personal experience. In the 1960s, when she was growing up in Hattiesburg, her dad had been a member of the union at the now-closed Hercules chemical plant. He was one of the first Black employees there. Jones, who described herself as a “nosy child,” said she would bug her dad to explain why he was “always talking about ‘the union.’” She later learned a union steward had helped her parents access credit that allowed them to buy their home, a small three-bedroom in an all-white neighborhood.
“He would explain to us that when you have a union, you have a group of people that are gonna be there for you,” she said. “Some companies, they’re in control of everything — whatever they say or decide, it’s entirely up to them. When you have a union rep, you’ve got somebody that’s gonna fight for you.”
Some of Jones’ co-workers responded to her stories enthusiastically and they too started passing out fliers. But others were wary. They’d sign pledge cards but never show up to meetings. Once, Jones said that several coworkers she’d invited to an off-campus UCW meeting left when they couldn’t find parking at the restaurant.
In Mississippi, which has long had one of the lowest rates of union membership in the country, Jones knew that organizing was a fraught and unfamiliar subject for many people. But she hadn’t realized exactly how scared her coworkers were of losing their job — not the money, but some of its crucial benefits, like access to the state of Mississippi’s retirement plan and discounted tuition for their kids.
It also seemed to Jones like custodians were being warned not to speak out. During summer 2021, Jones and Jester were leafleting outside the gate when a police car pulled up. The officers told Jester he was violating the campus solicitation policy and had to leave. (USM officials did not dispute this description of the incident.)
Jones doesn’t know who called the police, but after Jester left, a manager at the Physical Plant asked Jones to follow her back to her office so she could make a copy of UCW’s fliers. Jones told her no, she was off the clock. If she wanted one, she could’ve asked Jester for it.
Around the same time, 24-year-old Kyrelle Harris, a former custodian, said he was fired because he accumulated too many points. Harris said he was outspoken about how USM made him use vacation time when he got COVID in early 2020 and was still too sick to return to work after his quarantine period.After he complained, he said he started to get “nitpicked” about his work on the job.
In a statement, Margaret Ann McCloud, USM’s spokesperson, wrote USM “offers staff members with medical conditions access to multiple avenues of employment protection” and does not retaliate. She said “only one Physical Plant employee has lost a job for excessive absences under the points system in the past 12 months.”
Harris never joined UCW, even though he wanted his working conditions to improve. He said he couldn’t afford the $15 monthly dues on his paycheck. He also said he felt like custodians who had advocated for higher wages or better working conditions never got anywhere, which made him feel discouraged from trying.
Sam Ewing, University of Southern Mississippi Adjunct Professor, leads protesters for better wages during a rally at the Hattiesburg university, Thursday, May 5, 2022. Credit: Vickie D. King/Mississippi Today
After Ewing finished his speech on Thursday, he led Jones, Jester, and the rest of the protesters in a short march to the Aubrey K. Lucas Administration Building, where Bennett’s office is. Jester paused on the steps. He held up a manila envelope of pledge cards, turned to Jones, and nodded. They had spent a year working toward this moment, but neither of them knew what to expect. “Alright,” he said.
The inside of the administration building was cooler than outside, lined with dark wood and granite. In a single-file line, Jones, Jester, and J. Theresa Bush, a third member of UCW, walked up to the front desk, introduced themselves to the receptionist, and asked if they could talk to Bennett. After a moment, a white man came out, and Jester handed him the envelope. They turned to leave. Then Bennett walked out the glass doors of his office.
“Good to see you,” he said. “Tell me what this is about.”
Since Bennett became president in 2013, USM has grown its economic footprint and reached record levels of enrollment. Raising the minimum wage that year was just one of a number of decisions that garnered good will. According to Gulf Live, Bennett made the decision in response to a request from a worker at an open forum.
“This will allow employees to live the type of life that USM employees should be able to live,” Bennett said at the time. “I think it will allow employees to spend more time with their families and children. It’s the right thing to do, and it will have an impact on the economics of the community.”
But in the eight years since the raise, many low-wage workers say their take-home pay has not significantly increased. In a statement, Jim Coll, USM’s chief communication officer, said that “while the USM minimum pay rate has remained the same, employees at all pay levels have received pay increases on multiple occasions over the past decade, and have benefitted from promotion opportunities.”
USM President Rodney Bennett greets protesters holding a packet containing the names of supporters calling for a living wage during a rally at the University of Southern Mississippi in Hattiesburg, Thursday, May 4, 2022. Credit: Vickie D. King/Mississippi Today
Standing next to Bennett, Jones felt nervous. She thought he seemed surprised by the protest, and she hoped he would take them seriously.
“We’re just appealing to you,” Jester said, “because when you came in you raised the wages.”
“That was a real priority for me when I first got here to do that,” Bennett replied.
Everybody shook hands and, at first, it seemed like Bennett was going to go back inside his office. Then Bush made a request: Would Bennett come back outside with them? An assistant professor of theater, Bush wanted to give Bennett a chance to acknowledge that he had received UCW’s pledge cards to the protesters.
“Everybody’s there,” she said. “That would be amazing.”
Outside, Bennett held up the manila envelope of pledge cards.
“I’ve got my materials,” he said. “So we’ll take a look at it. Thank y’all for being here.”
After the protest, Jones and her coworker stuck around the fountain and talked about everything they’d like to see improved at work — the point system, the mandatory overtime, the pay. Jones’ thoughts turned to her brief interaction with Bennett. She felt teary-eyed.
“I hope it doesn’t turn ugly,” she thought. “But he’s on his way out. The way he looked, he’s only going to do what they let him.”
Jones also kept thinking about her coworkers, the ones who said they’d be there but didn’t come. In the two years she’d been organizing with USM, the chapter had grown to about 30 members, but it was mostly faculty. Still, she was shocked that so few Physical Plant workers showed up because custodians and other low-wage workers stood to gain the most from a wage increase.
“It’s their security blanket,” Jones said. “They want more, they know they deserve more, but they’re so afraid of losing this job, they just disconnect, and they don’t want to be associated with it, but they’re willing to reap any benefits that come out of this.”
A local TV station had filmed the protest, and the next day, Jones heard about the segment from some of her coworkers. They could tell she was in the crowd by her bedazzled “Limited Edition” baseball hat and shiny gold hoops. Jones was tempted to ask where they’d been. Instead, she told them they missed out.
As Mississippi parents of babies who are formula-fed grapple with the national shortage, parents on government assistance and those who have babies with allergies may face extra challenges.
The formula shortage is having a major impact in Mississippi, which has the second-lowest rate of breastfeeding in the nation. Parents are taking to social media to swap formulas and post about available products that are in stock at stores. Some are even attempting to start breastfeeding again – a difficult and time-consuming process – and doctors have had to issue warnings about homemade formula.
Supply-chain issues related to the COVID-19 pandemic are one cause of the formula shortage. Manufacturers are struggling to obtain certain ingredients, and labor issues have affected distribution.
The shortage has also been exacerbated by a recent recall of three major baby formula brands manufactured by Abbott Nutrition after a probe by the U.S. Food and Drug Administration found bacterial contamination at one Abbott facility in Sturgis, Michigan. At least four babies were hospitalized and two died after consuming contaminated formula, the FDA said.
At retailers across the country, 31% of the top-selling baby formula products were out of stock in April, according to an analysis from Datasembly, which tracked baby formula stock at more than 11,000 stores.
In contrast, the national out-of-stock levels for baby formula were at 11% in November.
Lauren Bolsinger and her husband have been struggling to find formula for their 7-month-old baby girl, Vivianne, for several months, sometimes traveling to 10 different stores in a day and only finding one can of formula. They’ve switched formulas twice due to the shortage, and are now using a generic Walmart brand that upsets their baby’s stomach.
“Every single day, we’re going to multiple stores just hoping that it’s restocked, but it’s completely out,” Bolsinger, who lives in Madison, said.
Ashlee Wallace of Brandon has struggled to find the formula her 7-month-old son needs due to a cow’s milk protein allergy.
“It’s scary to think about,” Wallace said. “What happens if we can’t get it? What do you do?”
Bolsinger has seen other moms in similar situations. She once ran into a young mom who was crying because the store didn’t have the formula she needed. The mom told her she had been to five stores that day searching for a specific formula her baby needs due to her child’s allergies.
“Being able to get formula for your baby is not something a mom should have to worry about, at any point,” Bolsinger said.
Some mothers who have relied on formula are attempting to restart breastfeeding after previously stopping, according to retired lactation consultant Nell Blakely of Brandon.
A notice warning customers of their infant formula purchase limits hangs on the shelves at Walmart in Ridgeland, Miss., Thursday, May 5, 2022. The U.S. is currently experiencing a shortage in infant formula. Credit: Eric Shelton/Mississippi Today
Blakely helps run a Facebook support group for breastfeeding mothers. She said she has seen an average of two inquiries a day from moms looking for help with relactation.
Blakely has been helping walk them through that difficult process with limited success. One method is for the mother to let her baby use her breast as a pacifier, which encourages the mother’s body to produce milk.
Another method is using a breast pump in several minute increments 10 to 12 times per day.
“It’s doable, but I would never say that it isn’t a whole lot of work,” Blakely said.
And for mothers on government assistance, finding the right type of formula can be uniquely challenging. The Women, Infants and Children’s Nutrition Program (WIC) only covers four formula types unless an infant gets an exemption through a medical diagnosis.
There were 84,000 women, children and infants who participated in WIC in Mississippi in 2018, according to the U.S. Department of Agriculture.
WIC centers are telling parents who can’t find formula to contact their pediatricians and look into direct shipping from manufacturers if breastfeeding is not an option, said Liz Sharlot, director of communications at Mississippi Department of Health.
Dr. Anita Henderson, president of the Mississippi Chapter of the American Academy of Pediatrics and a pediatrician at The Pediatric Clinic in Hattiesburg, said her clinic has received many calls from concerned moms over the last few weeks because they’re having trouble finding the formula they use.
“We’re encouraging them to check in different stores, because smaller pharmacies and grocery stores may get restocked more quickly, or just be utilized less than the large chains like Walmart.”
Some parents are making their own formula at home, a practice that health departments and doctors warn against.
“Babies need those nutrients in the right combinations and the right concentration, and that’s impossible to guarantee if parents try to make it themselves,” Henderson said.
Henderson also said it’s important that parents don’t dilute the formula they’re using to try and make their supply last longer. That not only cuts down on the nutritional value of the formula but can cause water intoxication in babies that results in major health problems like seizures.
Health officials are also asking parents not to hoard formula once they find it. Hoarding exacerbated shortages of items like toilet paper and hand sanitizer when those items became hard to find due to supply chain shortages caused by the COVID-19 pandemic.
“Please be cognizant of the fact that there are many moms and dads out there and we all want to keep our babies fed,” Henderson said.
The formula shortage has necessitated large multi-person hunts for the products. Facebook groups for moms are full of people asking where they can find a certain formula, while others alert the group to where they can find formula when they see it.
For Gina Lovette of Hernando, the hunt for formula has “become kind of gamified in a sick way.” She and other moms in the area have created a group chat where they go over their finds, sharing and trading cans of formula when they find the brands another is looking for.
“Moms know we have to look out for each other, but it’s ridiculous that we have to do this at all,” Lovette said.
