Wlrn | Presents

A WLRN investigation found the nonprofit sold homes of clients to Express Homes — owned by Carlos Morales, husband of Miami City Attorney Victoria Méndez — which resold several properties within days.

Miami Beach is known for its colorful Art Deco buildings. But more and more, only real estate developers are willing to spend the money it takes to preserve them — if they can build a tall, high-end residential tower on the property. This strategy saves at least part of the old buildings but changes the skyline forever. Preservationists fear this will destroy what makes Miami Beach special. WLRN's Verónica Zaragovia reports on the simmering tensions over historic preservation in an evolving city — throughout the last century and today.

The taking of black-owned land is a common story throughout the history of the United States. In Miami, one community that was displaced with little notice was made up of black workers who built and serviced the local railroads and trains.

In this Florida Public Media production, journalists explore the high costs of the pandemic for children and young adults who faced some of the greatest obstacles to success in school well before COVID-19 upended public education. For the full series, visit classofcovid.org.

Life and loss in Little Haiti, where residents find themselves in the path of a land rush. WLRN and WNYC Studios present the final episode of a three-part series on climate gentrification.

The fear of mass displacement isn’t paranoia for black people in Liberty City. It’s family history. WLRN and WYNC studios present the second episode of a three part series on climate gentrification.

The sea level is rising--and so is the rent. WLRN and WYNC studios present the first episode of a three part series on climate gentrification.

Florida’s first all-charter school district was engineered by unelected state bureaucrats at then-Gov. Rick Scott’s Department of Education, funded by the state Legislature and carried out by a charter school network based in South Florida, nearly 500 miles away. This “experiment” in rural Jefferson County has been transformational for many students but disastrous for a few. And it’s already changing education in Florida forever. You can read the full project at wlrn.org/chartered .

For the last couple of years, a school bus driver in Florida City has made prom possible for dozens of teenage girls in South Miami-Dade. Regina Talabert spends a lot of time making calls and sending emails requesting donations of lightly used or new formal dresses leading up to prom season. On a recent Saturday, the fruit of her work is on display inside the community room at City Church in Homestead, which has been transformed into a pop-up prom shop where everything is free. “Just to see kids come and dress up for their prom, 8th grade and 12th [graders]. This is what I would have been doing for my daughter," she said. Talabert created the free prom shop in memory of her 17-year old daughter, who was shot and killed just months before she could attend her senior prom in 2017. Noricia Talabert was dropping off a friend at home when she got caught in the crossfire of a shooting. “Through the tragedy and the pain this is how I get my enjoyment,” her mom said. “Out of helping somebody

In collaboration with 70 Million , a national podcast that examines criminal justice reforms around the country, WLRN looked at the mechanisms of Miami-Dade County's Criminal Mental Health Project.

The grief and mourning continue for the 17 dead students and staff killed in last week’s mass shooting at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland. But something else is happening among the anguish of the interrupted lives of the victims and survivors. Out of the agony — activism.

Hurricane Irma was the strongest storm to hit Florida in more than a decade. It set records on its way through the Atlantic and Caribbean: the longest sustained Category 5 storm of the satellite age, the fastest winds of any storm in the open Atlantic and enough energy for an entire hurricane season -- all in one storm. Irma put all of Florida on warning. A big storm, with its high winds, heavy rains and risk of storm surge can lead to catastrophic damage. What are local governments doing to prepare for the next threat? We speak with the mayors of Tampa and Miami in Florida After Hurricane Irma, part 2. Irma also exposed the fragility of our electrical grid. More than a quarter of the state’s electric customers were plunged into darkness during and after the storm. Most of the lights have been turned back on. But now will you be asked to pay for the repair work? We speak with Florida Public Counsel J.R. Kelly, who represents Florida's utility customers before state and federal

Irma was an epic storm. It was stronger and bigger than almost all hurricanes on record and lasted longer than any storm on record. From the Lower Florida Keys to St. Augustine, the Gulf Coast across to I-95, it triggered the largest evacuation in Florida and left large swaths of the state without power for days. The refrain you hear a lot is “it could have been worse.” So what if next time it is? Can Florida be effectively evacuated? What’s it like to wait out a storm in a shelter? And how are the state’s most vulnerable communities --the elderly and the poor -- left to deal with the preparations and aftermath of hurricanes? In After Hurricane Irma - Part 1, we hear how one reporter experienced the storm and its aftermath just miles from where the eye first came ashore. We also cover how the storm may change regulations around backup power for nursing homes, whether Florida is getting too big to effectively evacuate, why more charter schools aren't designated storm shelters, the storm

As of March 13, 2017, Florida has a death penalty again. Though the sentence is law again in Florida, many inmates continue to live on Death Row without knowing if they will ultimately die by the state’s hand or not. In Cell 1: Florida’s Death Penalty In Limbo , we brought you the story of why the death penalty was thrown into a state of uncertainty and how that affects people on Death Row, their families and victims’ families. It was a deep dive into how, for a year, Florida's death penalty was rendered all but defunct despite many efforts to reinstate it. Those efforts came in spite of declining numbers of death sentences and executions nationwide. Florida has, for decades, bucked those trends. The back-and-forth between state rules governing how to sentence someone to death and court decisions throwing them out has ended, at least for now. In March, the Florida Legislature passed new rules about how to sentence someone to death, bringing the state in line with the latest court

Karson Turner reaches into a grassy row of sugar cane. He grips a stalk, jointed like bamboo, and breaks it, revealing the sweetness inside. "This will go into the mill, which you can just about see if you take about 20 steps backward you can see the smokestacks. And those get grinded, that raw sucrose that gets pushed out becomes the basis of table sugar that you and I consume all the time," says Turner. The cane field stretches to the horizon, where the world's largest sugar mill billows smoke. The mill serves as the heart of U.S. Sugar Corporation. Turner has lived among these fields nearly all of his life. He is a Hendry County commissioner. "When I look at these cane fields I think of the actual families, the people that I grew up with, their children and grandchildren and what they've built these farms on with sweat equity." At the heart of bitter debate over central and south Florida's water are 60,000 acres of farmland south of Lake Okeechobee. Senate President Joe Negron and

Among the cow pastures and citrus groves of Florida's heartland north of Lake Okeechobee, patches of wetlands serve as kidneys for the Everglades. "It filters out all of the impurities, in this case we're talking about nutrients, phosphorous in particular," says Ernie Marks of the South Florida Water Management District. Marks steps through the grass framing the expanse of reeds and rushes. The vegetation sieves from the water the nutrient responsible for toxic algae blooms. Wading birds like egrets flap among the cabbage palms. Marks says more water storage is needed here north of the lake. New research suggests the river of grass historically was much wetter than previously thought and calls for additional storage throughout the Lake Okeechobee and Everglades regions. "The next natural step is to look to the north, and not only to look to the north because of the absence of storage that we currently have there. But having something to the north gives us ultimately flexibility where

If you scoop a glassful of water from the heart of the Everglades, that water is as pure and clear as the water that flows from your tap. That’s because chances are good your tap water comes from the Everglades. One in three Floridians -- more than eight million of us -- gets drinking water from the Biscayne Aquifer a few feet below the southeastern Everglades. The ecosystem acts as a natural filter, removing excess nutrients and keeping out seawater. But the Everglades are under siege. Half of ‘the river of grass’ already has been lost; more is dying off. And as the aboveground ecosystem slips away, so does our underground fresh water. To understand why, you have to understand how the Everglades used to work. Call it ‘Everglades 101.’ Coconut Grove resident and POLITICO journalist Michael Grunwald wrote The Swamp: The Politics of Paradise . It’s a history of the Everglades and restoration efforts. And after years of research and reporting, Grunwald can summarize how the ecosystem used

Let’s start with what we’re losing: One of the most biologically diverse places on Earth, from sawgrass to cypress trees, apple snails to alligators. The historic home of Florida’s Miccosukee and Seminole tribes. A national park. The ecosystem that ensures fresh drinking water for more than 8 million Floridians. Everglades advocate Marjory Stoneman Douglas talked about all this in an interview in 1983. “It was a marvelous expanse of flat green land with its strangeness and its openness and its birds,” she said. “So utterly unique, you see. There is nothing like it anywhere else in the world.” More than 30 years later, Wayne Rassner stands knee-deep in a pool of water in a cypress dome in Everglades National Park. He’s a volunteer guide, a canoeing enthusiast and the head of the South Florida National Parks Trust. He takes people into the park so they can learn about the challenges the Everglades face. And so they can see its beauty firsthand. “We don’t have a giant waterfall or an