|
OCTOBER 14–MGM RESORTS WITHDRAWS BID TO RUN YONKERS EMPIRE CITY CASINO
County Executive Ken Jenkins Statement on MGM Resorts’ Withdrawal of Casino License Application
“I am both shocked, disappointed, and deeply dismayed by MGM Resorts’ decision to withdraw its commercial casino license application for Empire City Casino from consideration by the New York Gaming Commission and the Gaming Facility Location Board. Frankly, this decision makes little sense — especially after MGM had just been celebrating its advancement through the first round of the process.
“I share Yonkers Mayor Mike Spano’s concern that there appears to be more to this story.”
“For decades, so many of us have supported this effort, believing in the promise of good-paying jobs, new investment, and long-term economic stability for Yonkers and Westchester County. While this was not the outcome we hoped for, we remain committed to supporting MGM and Yonkers and to ensuring that our community continues to thrive.”
OCTOBER 14–YOUR LOCAL EPIDEMIOLOGIST INFECTIOUS DISEASE REPORT
|
 |
Enjoying this newsletter? Why not share it with a friend?
Weekend chaos at the CDC
And bird flu is back, patching together the disease “weather” report, measles continues to burn through, teen depression rates are falling, and more! The Dose (October 14).
|
|
|
|||||||||||||||
This weekend was one for the books—though by now, it’s starting to feel like business as usual.
Late-night firings. Mass confusion. Then a partial reversal.
CDC has become a real-time experiment in how quickly a public health system can be dismantled before anyone realizes what’s been lost.
Spoiler: the administration noticed. Sort of.
Meanwhile, bird flu is back, and with federal data updates frozen by the shutdown, we’re piecing together a disease “weather report” from Google Trends and good intentions.
We conclude with a poll and a glimmer of hope: depression rates among young people are falling, and public health scientists have just been awarded a few “genius grants” to advance the field.
This is The Dose. Let’s go!
Weekend at CDC: What we know, what we don’t know, and the real danger
On Friday, about 1,300 CDC employees received a surprising email: they were fired.
No warning. No time to plan. Their badges were immediately deactivated. The justification was a “reduction in force”—a bureaucratic term now being used as a political pawn in the broader Congressional shutdown fight.
This wasn’t the first wave.
For months, CDC employees have endured mass layoffs, political interference, the firing of top scientific leaders, a lack of transparency, and fear and uncertainty.
But this round struck at the agency’s core. Senior leaders, including the incident manager for the national measles response, were let go.
The entire MMWR team—the scientific backbone that translates CDC data into outbreak reports and public guidance—gone.
So were epidemic intelligence service officers, the nation’s “disease detectives” who detect and track emerging threats before they spread.
It didn’t stop there. Cuts hit every corner of CDC’s operations:
- Data office: the infrastructure that collects, connects, and analyzes data nationwide.
- CFA INFORM: the “weather service” for infectious diseases.
- CDC Washington Office: the bridge between science and policy.
- Global Health Center: the front line that stops diseases abroad before they reach U.S. shores.
- Chronic Disease Policy and Comms: connecting science to action on diabetes and heart disease.
- Injury Prevention Policy and Comms: addressing gun violence, opioid overdoses, and suicide.
- Ethics teams, human resources, the CDC library (it’s hard to do science without access to scientific literature), and more.
Then came the whiplash.
Within 24 hours, 700 employees were reinstated. The administration called it a “coding error.” Maybe. Or maybe it was a scramble to reverse a catastrophic mistake.
It’s hard to know precisely who remains fired, but it seems to include staff from ethics, congressional outreach, health statistics, nutrition surveys, and all of human resources.
Oh, also, the scientists who work on biodefense, such as weaponized pathogens, remain fired.
For those keeping track, this now accounts for 1 in 3 CDC employees lost over the past few months.
This doesn’t account for the 50% additional budget cuts coming in 2026.
What we’re testing in real time
The U.S. is conducting an uncontrolled experiment to see what happens when a public health agency is gutted with immense speed and without a vision beyond destruction.
We are getting increasingly close to system collapse. As often attributed to Amit Kalantri:
“Systems fail when people with ability don’t have authority and people with authority don’t have ability.”
The questions we’re testing are:
- How much trauma can the workforce absorb? Scientists have been holding the ship together after surviving mass layoffs, working under political interference, getting 500 bullets aimed at them, and mourning colleagues who lost jobs overnight. Public health employees are there for the mission (certainly not the pay), and it’s unclear how much longer that trumps trauma. Of course, cruelty is the point.
- In February, the OMB said, “When they wake up in the morning, we want them to not want to go to work, because they are increasingly viewed as the villains. We want their funding to be shut down… We want to put them in trauma.”
- How thin can CDC be stretched? One in three employees has now been lost—either fired or quit—within months. And this is before the 2026 budget, which will cut CDC by an additional 50%.
- How political will CDC become? The fewer career scientists who remain, the more political appointees fill the void. Each round of cuts makes the agency less independent and more beholden to politicians.
- What breaks first, and how will it be felt in American lives? The ultimate question haunting many in public health, including me.
Many of you have asked how MAHA (the movement I’ve been talking with for months) is reacting.
It’s complicated.
Some are cheering the cuts, seeing them as long-overdue accountability for institutions that failed them.
Many have been harmed or dismissed by these very systems. They feel unseen, unheard, and hungry for change.
Others, though, are uneasy and recognize that the pendulum has swung too far. And many simply don’t know this is happening, because echochambers continue to drive our information ecosystems.
This shouldn’t be too big a surprise, given that MAHA isn’t a monolith.
The real danger
I welcome radical transformation of our systems. They need it. But the danger here isn’t just in what’s being dismantled and how cruelly it’s being done, but in what’s not being built to take its place.
There’s no plan.
No rebuilding strategy.
No vision grounded in American values of innovation, imagination, and hope, nor the kind of long-term vision that could deliver the health ecosystem Americans deserve.
If we don’t fill this vacuum with credible leadership, imagination, and execution, it will be filled with noise, chaos, and ideology.
What this means for you:
You won’t feel these latest cuts on the ground tomorrow or the next day, especially since some cores (like the measles lead) were reinstated.
But this will continue to be a slow bleed. Eventually it will be measured in American lives.
Welcome back to bird flu season
Fall doesn’t just bring respiratory viruses for humans; it also brings them for animals. After a relatively quiet spring and summer, our old friend H5N1 (bird flu) is back. USDA has seen an uptick in H5N1 detections in backyard flocks, commercial flocks, and wild birds. More than 4.4 million birds have been sick in the past month. This isn’t enough to impact egg prices yet, but it may soon.
 |
What this means for you: Overall, the health risk to the general public—and the risk of a pandemic—remains low. However, risk increases for anyone in close contact with infected or sick birds. Disease can be severe, as we saw in a few rare hospitalizations and deaths last year. So, as we move into this season:
- If you have a backyard flock, you should take precautions to reduce the risk of spreading disease. For tips on how to do this, check YLE’s deep dive.
- Bird feeders: Birds that gather at feeders (like cardinals, sparrows, and bluebirds) do not typically carry H5N1. The USDA does not recommend removing backyard bird feeders for H5N1 prevention unless you also care for poultry. The less contact between wild birds and poultry (by removing sources of food, water, and shelter), the better.
- Hunters are at high risk for H5N1, especially if they don’t use PPE while handling dead birds. A Washington study showed that 2% (4/194) of hunting dogs tested positive for H5N1.
- Domestic animals—cats and dogs—can get H5N1 if they contact (usually eat) a dead or sick bird or even its droppings. H5N1 can survive in bird droppings for up to 18 hours. Domestic animals can also get it from raw food, unpasteurized milk, and their humans. It’s very deadly to cats. (It doesn’t seem to be as dangerous to dogs.)
Infectious disease “weather report”
The government shutdown continues to stall federal data updates, including national flu, Covid-19, and RSV surveillance. So today we have a very fragmented picture. Still, we can piece together some insights by looking at alternative sources—like PopHIVE, which pulls from Google Trends and healthcare records—or by reviewing state-level data directly, as fellow epidemiologist Dr. Caitlin Rivers has been doing.
The rough picture shows this:
- Covid-19 is still trending down
 |
Trends in COVID-19 activity in United States. Source: PopHIVE
- Flu activity remains low, though it’s increased slightly in Texas, Oklahoma, and South Dakota.
- RSV in Southern states is growing, especially in Louisiana, South Carolina, Virginia, and Texas.
 |
What this means for you: We’re still in a pre-flu season lull. This is expected in early October, but will change in the coming weeks. Now is a great time to get your vaccinations. Check out YLE’s Updated Fall 2025 Vaccine Guide for more information.
Measles cases now stand at 1,575, with a few outbreaks.
- Utah/Arizona: More than 100 confirmed cases linked to this outbreak (59 in Arizona and 44 in Utah), and cases continue to increase.
- South Carolina: Eighth confirmed case since mid-September. One hundred fifty-three unvaccinated schoolchildren are now under a 21-day quarantine.
- Minnesota: More than 10 cases in the past few weeks.
What this means for you: If you’re vaccinated, you’re very well protected. If you’re in these areas with a child under 12 months, consider getting MMR early.
Good news!
This is becoming my favorite section now, given *waves hands in the air* everything. Two pieces of great news this past week:
1. Several MacArthur Fellowships go to public health researchers. The “genius” grants are typically given to diverse and eclectic fellows, which I love, but this year, public health was well represented:
- Jason McLellan studies viral proteins with an eye toward vaccine development. He’s characterizing viral fusion proteins, which viruses use to bind to human cells (think of the spike protein in SARS-CoV-2).
- Nabarun Dasgupta is an epidemiologist and harm reduction specialist who is creating practical programs to mitigate harms from opioid overdose deaths.
The MacArthur Fellowship will provide the funding, time, and space to continue work freely.
2. Mental health among teens and young adults is improving. After an alarming increasing trend over the years, the rate of depression among Americans aged 12-17 and 18-25 is falling quickly. We still have a long way to go in understanding causal effects, holding social media companies accountable, and improving the mental health of millions of teens. Still, this change is something to celebrate. (Shout-out to epidemiologist Dr. Thomas Farley for pointing out this fantastic news last week.)
 |
Graph from Healthscaping
Poll
|
Bottom line
This week showed us both the fragility and the resilience of public health in America. Our nation’s disease watchdog is being dismantled, data pipelines are going dark, and yet the work continues—from scientists holding the line to supporting teens’ mental health.
Have a wonderful week!
Love, YLE
Your Local Epidemiologist (YLE) is founded and operated by Dr. Katelyn Jetelina, MPH PhD—an epidemiologist. YLE is a public health newsletter that reaches over 400,000 people in more than 132 countries, with one goal: to translate the ever-evolving public health science so that people are well-equipped to make evidence-based decisions. This newsletter is free to everyone, thanks to the generous support of fellow YLE community members. To support the effort, subscribe or upgrade below:
OCTOBER 13– TRIBUTE TO COLUMBUS AND THOSE INTREPID ADVENTURERS WHO CAME AFTER HIM WHO BECKONED US FORWARD BY SAYING “FOLLOW ME!’
WPCNR COLUMN FROM THE PAST IN HONOR OF CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS
This column originally appeared on WPCNR on February 1, 2003, and celebrates the Dreamers, the Achievers, the High and the Mighty, of whom Columbus was one–the man who kept a frightened crew together and a mission of three ships the Nina, the Pinta and the Santa Marie, across unchartered waters to open the other half the world, and create this one.
I wrote it about the Apollo 11 Crew, but the sentiments expressed aptly fit Columbus the man and the achievers who risked the unknown, the terrifying, the oceans the frontiers, vagaries of fate:
The Space Blazers:
The Apollo 11 Crew: Nail Armstrong, Michael Collins, Buzz Aldrin, Jr. Mr. Armstrong set foot on the moon 56 years ago July 20, 1969(NASA Photo)
The exact hour was 20:11 GMT (Greenwich Mean Time). That was the culmination of the last great American achievement – the personal computer and the internet were to come as the next great American achievement conquering space — when Apollo 11 with Armstrong in command, with astronauts Michael Collins and Edwin E. Aldrin, Jr. blasted off to the stars for real becoming the Flash Gordons, Buck Rogerses, Tom Corbetts and Captain Videos for all-time.
Their mission was a success.
But there have been the tragedies associated with striving for the stars and being the best, achieving the best, working for the good. Those are the persons who keep the dreams alive by their deaths and personal sacrifice. I wrote the following after the explosion of the Columbia Space Shuttle upon reentry after 19 days in space in January 2003.
The fatal Columbia Space Shuttle accident killing all 7 astronauts aboard when the historic spacecraft broke up over East Texas at daybreak on a Saturday morning began a period of national mourning.
The expected media speculations have started, guessing at the cause of the reentry that went bizarrely, awfully wrong.
The truth is the civilized world takes absolute scientific miracles for granted. We do not appreciate the courage and skills of the men and women creating the future.
Those of us with cell phones, internet connections, high-speed trains, satellite communications and entertainment (all products made possible by the space program), do not realize the magnitude of daring achievements that you and I have come to accept to be executed like clockwork.
I first learned of Columbia’s fate late that Saturday afternoon when my wife mentioned that instead of sports programming being videotaped on our television, there was coverage of a live NASA event on ABC.
(Incredibly, the radio station I had been listening to on the way from a sports clinic had not reported any hint of the accident. That station was Z-100, then the most listened-to station in the New York metropolitan area. America Online also on their first up page did not mention the missing craft as of midday. That kind of communications misjudgment is sad.)
As I watched the close of Mr. Jennings’ coverage at about 3 PM, he signed off with no recap, no names of astronauts, and some parting words about what he thought was the cause of the disaster.
I’ll say what he should have said.
Columbia’s seven astronauts who died — we know their names: they were
Columbus, Magellan, Cook, Lewis, Clark, the Wrights, Lindbergh, De Laroche, Earhart, Markham, Gruber, Chaffee, Grissom, White, Gagarin, Komarov, the Challenger Crew, the crew of Soyuz 11. They are a handful of the hundreds of brave men and women who went into the unknown.
Appollo 11′s Crew turned the dreams of children like me in the 1950s visualized in television shows like Tom Corbett, Space Cadet (above, Astro, Roger and Tom) and Captain Video, “The Master of Science” below into reality.
America’s Spacemen and Spacewomen and the explorers before them are the people who trust in their ability and their vessel to expand the world’s horizons, to know the unknown, whose legacies build a better world. Whose deeds inspire and achievements are the catalysts for achievement to come. Who take responsibility!
From Captain Cook’s fragile vessel which sailed the Pacific, to the marvel that was the Columbia, the captains courageous who sailed the Roaring 40s, blazed the Oregon Trail, discovered how to fly, and flew the oceans, journeyed to the stars, knew the risks they were taking. They lived for it.
The media trivializes their courage, their skills, and the difficulty of what they did and wanted to do, to concentrate on the causes of their failure, as if knowing the cause will make their loss acceptable.
The Magnificent Seven
I do not know Columbia’s Magnificent Seven. I just see their smiling faces in their photograph, and I regret the loss of every one. They had achievement on their faces, pride in their demeanor. Their eyes shown with the glow of being alive and striving to do the great things they set out to do. Unafraid. Faith in their abilities. A team.
Civilization has been created because of people like the crew of the Columbia’s Magnificent Seven, not the incompetence we see demonstrated daily today, the frauds, the irresponsibility where technology is concerned. the selfishness.
The Columbia itself had flown 26 missions since launching in 1981. It was guided and outfitted with the best 2003 communications and equipment had to offer.
Not like Captain James Cook’s bark, Endeavour, a 100-foot ship powered by sail that conquered the “space” of his time, the Pacific Ocean.
It was the Columbia’s Magnificent Seven’s Endeavour. They were tracked, they were backed up, but they perhaps more than anyone here on the ground knew the high dangers of the shuttle mission.
Liftoff, as their predecessors, The Challenger crew fell victim to, is fraught with risk. Reentry, which needs to be negotiated at precisely the right angle of attack, is equally risky. Soyuz 11’s space crew of Dobrovolsky, Volkov, and Patsayev died in 1971 on reentry, when the Russian cosmonauts took too long to descend.
No guarantees in real life. Machines sometimes run out of miracles. But sometimes machines save us inexplicably. Created by men and women, our machines retain some of our humanity and talent in them and we expect miracles of them.
The magnificence of the explorers’ sacrifice and dedication, is that they accept the risk of “the Endeavor.”
They accept the challenge, bear it alone, seizing challenge with an indomitable spirit and confidence, facing death when it comes with the satisfaction that they made the effort, and I suspect analyzing, coping, trying to fix it until the end, the very end.
They never give up.
Columbia’s Magnificent Seven, after 16 days in space, are gone now.
My sorrow is with their families who will miss these Magnificent Seven, and who know in their hearts that they died trying to reach the pinnacle of their aspirations.
They are only human.
They tried their best, achieved their best, and experienced what they longed to experience. They dared to live the great adventure.
They did it for us.
Not all of us have the courage to follow our longed-for adventures and make them real. You can watch movies that attempt to give that experience by transference.
That’s why, I believe, you and I take it so personally when we lose heroic personalities of our time. We wonder what they are like. We glorify them, rightly so.
“Follow Me! ” They Say.
I wonder how those Magnificent Seven felt, how satisfying it must have been, to be at your best, doing what you love, coping with the risks.I envy them that.
To the very end they are saying to each other, “I got this!”
The Columbia Crew is the Miracle.
In reality it is not machines that conquer, it is the intrepid personalities, each unique, each contributing, who perform the miracles with God’s helpnd their spirit!
That they fall short is an example to us, not to take ourselves, our fates, or our existences for granted.
This is true of the everyday people we take for granted: the firefighter, the policeman, the train engineer, the airline pilot, the construction worker. All are highly trained disciplined workers, executing precise tasks for which the non-expert has no feel or understanding .
What makes for the desire to achieve? What is out there or up there that leads them on?
The Feel the thrill of the Unknown
I took Anne Morrow Lindbergh’s biographical adventure diary, Listen! The Wind down from the bookshelf.
She was the young bride of the aviator-pioneer, Charles Lindbergh. She navigated for him in his aircraft, and ran his radio communications on his many exploratory flights around the world.
In a passage she describes a night flight over the ocean, in which she was operating the radio for her husband Charles, who was at the controls.
Mrs. Lindbergh is describing the feelings she has as she tries to tune in the South American coast at sea in the dark of night in 1933, 92 years ago.
The feeling, the courage of the adventurer, the explorer has not changed. Ann Morrow Lindberg describes the fear the confidence, her discipline and her husband’s trust in her ability. This is great:
“Night was the hardest. It would be all right once it was day. I kept saying…We began to hit clouds. I could tell without looking up, for the plane bumped slightly from time to time, first one wing down and then the other. And the moon blackened out for short periods.
Then for longer periods. I could not see to write my messages. I stiffened, dimly sensing fear – the old fear of bad weather – and looked out. We were flying under clouds. I could still find a kind of horizon, a difference in shading where the water met the clouds. That was all. But it seemed to be getting darker.
Storms?
Were those clouds or was it the sky? We had lost the water (surface).
We were flying blind.
I turned off the light quickly (to give my husband a little more vision), and sat waiting, tense, peering through the night. Now we were out again. There were holes through which one could see the dark sky. It was all right, I felt, as long as there were holes.
More blind flying.
This is it, I thought is what people forget.
This is what it means to fly across the ocean, blind and at night.
But day is coming.
It ought to be day before long… Daybreak!
What a miracle. I didn’t see any sign of day and yet it must be lighter. The clouds were distinguishing themselves more and more from water and sea.
Daybreak—thank God—as if we had been living in eternal night—as if this were the first sun that ever rose out of the sea.
Note: This column originally appeared February 1, 2003 on WPCNR