Saturday, August 15, 2026

This is my 6th Weekend Wrap-Up. Last Saturday this column was called Two People Died, the Federal Count Tripled Without Anyone New Getting Sick, and One Summer Passed Thirty Years of Cyclospora History. This week the government talked, and then its own numbers answered. On Tuesday the acting Commissioner of Food and Drugs told a business news audience that this country has the safest food supply in the world. On Thursday night his agency raised its own outbreak from 6,358 people to 9,481, from fifteen states to seventeen, and from 278 hospitalizations to 398. The same government said both things in the same week.

Tuesday was the day the administration decided this was over. Kyle Diamantas, the acting Commissioner, said in a Tuesday interview that we have the safest food supply in the world, that Americans should feel confident eating fresh produce including leafy greens, that his agency remains confident all iceberg lettuce related to the outbreak has been effectively removed from the market, and that the origin was found in record time on the strength of increased border testing. A second account of the same interview has him urging full confidence in the food supply in this country. The Department of Health and Human Services posted the same day that Cyclospora was contained and American food was safe. And a senior adviser at that same department had already told his followers the outbreak is manufactured hysteria, funded by junk food companies to frighten people off real food. One department, one Tuesday, three messages, and not one of them contains a number.

The same Tuesday, the confirmed count rose by a third. CDC’s weekly surveillance update put laboratory-confirmed, domestically acquired cases at 13,895, up 3,427 in seven days, with at least another 10,455 still needing investigation. That is 24,350 people in the federal count alone. National hospitalizations went from 517 to 740. Forty-seven states plus the District of Columbia and Puerto Rico are reporting. Read the jump carefully, because it is not what it looks like: the unconfirmed pool fell while the confirmed number rose, so most of those 3,427 are people already in the count whose laboratory work finally cleared, not 3,427 who got sick last week. CDC now prints its own comparison too, which saves me the arithmetic. The entire May-through-August season last year was 1,180 cases. I wrote that night that what this outbreak needs is leadership, not cheerleaders.

Then on Thursday night the federal outbreak grew by half. FDA’s advisory now reads 9,481 illnesses, 398 hospitalizations, two deaths and seventeen states, with Maine and Massachusetts added. Eight days earlier the same page said 6,358, 278 and fifteen. That is 3,123 more people and 120 more hospitalizations in one update, published thirty-six hours after the record-time remark. CDC’s investigation page carries the identical figures, and that is worth saying out loud, because the two agencies have not always been aligned this summer and this week they were. Credit where it is due. The web address changed for the fourth time, five-state to nine-state to fifteen-state to multistate. FDA has stopped putting a number in the URL, which is sensible, and which also means every link written before Thursday now points at a page the agency has abandoned.

Effectively removed from the market is true, and it is not the same sentence as over. The recall was July 17. CDC’s confirmed count that week was around 1,600. It is 13,895 now. Pulling product off a shelf ends the exposure. It does not end the outbreak, and it does not end the counting, because this parasite takes about a week to make a person sick and the laboratory takes six more weeks to say so. FDA’s page puts the last illness onset on August 3. That edge is a description of the reporting lag, not a finding about when people stopped getting sick, and it will move.

Record time deserves its own paragraph. The first illnesses in this outbreak began in the middle of May. The first federal advisory came out on July 16. And FDA investigators walked into the Taylor Farms de Mexico plant at Doctor Mora on August 13 — the first FDA inspector inside that building since 2019, arriving at a facility the company had shut down on July 18. They are sampling a plant that has been idle for twenty-six days, four weeks after the product they are looking for left it. CNN reported this month that in the first half of this year, five of the company’s more than 168,000 produce shipments out of Mexico were physically inspected at the border. None of that is the fault of the people who went in August. 

The lettuce went to Mexico too, and the distribution list finally stopped contradicting itself.FDA’s new advisory says customer information provided by the firm shows recalled product was sold to consumers in Mexico. Whether anyone told those consumers, and whether there are Mexican cases from these lots, nobody has said. The confirmed distribution list also grew from twenty-seven states to thirty-one, adding Maine, New York, Nebraska, Virginia and West Virginia, which closes a contradiction I have been writing about since August 8 — Taylor Farms’ own information hub listed twenty-seven states in one section and twenty-eight in another, and FDA’s advisory had the identical split in the same week.

Fourteen states received confirmed distribution of the recalled lettuce and have no attributed cases at all. Alabama, Connecticut, Florida, Georgia, Louisiana, Maryland, Mississippi, New Jersey, New York, South Carolina, Tennessee, Texas, Virginia and Wisconsin. Twelve of the fourteen publish a count, and those twelve total 2,174 cases this season. Mississippi and South Carolina publish nothing at all. I am not saying those 2,174 people ate this lettuce. I am saying that fourteen states got the product, at least 2,174 of their residents have cyclosporiasis, and so far ,as I can find, nobody has publicly asked whether any of them are connected.

Add the fifty states up and the floor is 29,920, eighty short of thirty thousand. Thirteen state health departments publish hospitalization figures and those total 734, against CDC’s national 740 — a number built by hand off state dashboards landing within six of the federal count, which is either a coincidence or a sign the method works.

Thirteen letters from Congress and not one published answer. I counted them again on Friday. The questions are good questions and the deadlines keep passing. Meanwhile eleven consumer, public health and labor groups wrote to the four congressional leaders asking them to rescind the traceability rider, and the half of that rider nobody is discussing is that Section 780 does not merely freeze the money. It also directs FDA to find additional flexibilities for the lot-level tracking requirement, which is Congress prodding the agency to give up the one piece of the rule that would have made this recall answerable. I wrote about it Thursday, and about the fact that FDA’s own recall file already shows where 236,192 cases of this lettuce went — public, and unfindable, which is not the same as disclosed.

Nobody is required to answer any of those letters, and that is the design flaw Frank Yiannas has been trying to fix. He has spent the better part of a year arguing for an independent National Foodborne Outbreak Investigation Board on the model of the National Transportation Safety Board. I wrote on Wednesday night that the airplane comparison is the weakest part of a case that does not need it, and that one file makes the argument by itself. In August 2013, FDA investigators spent eight days inside this same Taylor Farms plant at Doctor Mora, covered the facility and five ranches, and collected roughly 835 samples. Nothing came back positive. What they found, they found by reading the company’s own paperwork — a fecal coliform result off drip irrigation tape that had triggered no corrective action because it sat just under the firm’s own action level, and prescriptions written for harvest crews that included a drug used against this parasite, dispensed during the outbreak window. Then they wrote a recommendation: that the firm determine whether Cyclospora is a reasonably likely hazard in that growing region and re-evaluate the wash step. Nothing happened to it. It had no addressee, nothing set a clock on it, and no database tracked whether it was ever answered. The only real produce surveillance this country has ever had, the Microbiological Data Program, was zeroed out of the budget and shut down at the end of 2012, seven months before those investigators walked in. Thirteen years later: same region, same plant, same parasite, same commodity. What makes the transportation board work is not the team that flies to the crash site. It is the ninety-day clock that starts when a recommendation is issued, the permanent public database that tracks it until somebody answers, and the annual list that names the agency that has not.

One more, and it is the good news. On Friday I wrote that suing companies over E. coli in hamburger used to be a large part of this firm’s business and is not anymore. That did not happen because anyone gave a speech about the safest food supply in the world. It happened because a rule changed, a test became mandatory, and an industry was made to do something it did not want to do. It is the whole argument for changing this one.

That’s the week — an acting Commissioner calling this the safest food supply in the world, a department calling the outbreak contained, a senior adviser calling it hysteria, and that same government’s own outbreak growing by half in a single evening. The season CDC defines closes on August 31. That is sixteen days. Nobody at the top has to say the number out loud. The number is going to say itself. Check back next Saturday.

About Bill Marler

William “Bill” Marler has spent more than thirty years as a food safety lawyer and advocate—work that began with the 1993 Jack in the Box E. coli outbreak and has never really stopped since. In the years that followed, he has represented victims in nearly every major foodborne illness outbreak in the United States. That case, and the movement it launched, is the subject of the book “Poisoned” and the Emmy Award–winning Netflix documentary of the same name. Bill’s work has been profiled in The New Yorker (“A Bug in the System”), the Seattle Times (“30 years after the deadly E. coli outbreak, a Seattle attorney still fights for food safety”), the Washington Post (“He helped make burgers safer. Now he’s fighting food poisoning again”), and many others.

Dozens of times a year, Bill speaks to industry, regulators, and universities across the United States, Canada, Europe, Africa, China, and Australia about a simple idea: outbreaks are preventable. He has testified before Congress on the Food Safety Modernization Act and teaches food safety at institutions including the Harvard T.H. Chan School of Public Health. He writes regularly about food litigation and food safety at Marler Blog, and in 2009 he founded Food Safety News, which he continues to publish.

Start with the date, because it is the news. On August 5, CDC’s investigation page said illnesses linked to this outbreak began on June 22 and continued through July 31. On August 13, the same page says they began on June 14 and continued through August 3. The window opened eight days at the front and three at the back. The back end is ordinary, because cases keep arriving. The front end is not ordinary at all. It means that as the interviews caught up, this investigation absorbed people who got sick more than a week before anybody previously placed the beginning of it.

June 14 matters because of what the recall actually reaches. FDA’s advisory says distribution of the recallediceberg ran from June 29 through July 16, and the recall notice covers product made in that window. Symptoms of cyclosporiasis begin about a week after exposure, with a range of two days to two weeks, so the person who became ill on June 14 was most likely at a table around June 7. That is three weeks in front of the earliest lettuce in the recall. I wrote on August 8, working from FDA’s own enforcement file, that the recall window was set by shelf life rather than by contamination, because you cannot recall lettuce that has already been eaten or expired. The federal outbreak’s own start date has now moved out in front of the recall by more than two weeks.

FDA published once in seven days, on Thursday night, and when it did the outbreak grew by half. It went from 6,358 illnesses, 278 hospitalizations and fifteen states on August 5 to 9,481 illnesses, 398 hospitalizations and seventeen states on August 13. Maine and Massachusetts joined. Confirmed distribution went from twenty-seven states to thirty-one, with nine more named as possible, and that finally closed the West Virginia contradiction the agency had carried for weeks, in which a state was on the outbreak list and missing from the distribution list at the same time. FDA also said two things it had never said before. Inspectors are inside the plant at Doctor Mora alongside Mexican officials, and customer records from the firm show recalled product was sold to consumers in Mexico.

CDC’s surveillance page went from 10,468 laboratory-confirmed domestic cases on August 4 to 13,895 on August 11, up roughly a third in a week. Hospitalizations went from 517 to 740, up 43 percent. Travel-associated cases, which are counted separately and are not this outbreak, went from 1,341 to 1,530, and their hospitalizations from 46 to 58.

The states went from 26,755 on August 7 to 30,513 tonight, and past thirty thousand. Of that, 3,758 is seven days of growth and 10 is a correction: Mississippi and South Dakota turn out to have published counts I had been carrying as blank, 7 and 3, dated July 22 and July 16. Those are not new illnesses; they are rows that were missing. Michigan alone was 1,424 of that, moving from 12,485 to 13,909 in its single Thursday update. Ohioadded 552 and crossed five thousand, with Cuyahoga County at 695 now ahead of Lucas at 690, so the center of that state’s outbreak has shifted from Toledo to Cleveland. Missouri added 482, Kansas 287, Indiana 278 to reach 1,983, with 486 of them in Allen County alone, Florida 153, New York 145 and Nebraska 127. Maineappeared on the chart for the first time at 27. West Virginia posted this morning at 304 and revised its hospitalizations down from 21 to 20, the first time any state on this chart has revised a hospitalization figure downward. 

Where the state governments are is a harder question than where the federal agencies are, because the states are not all in the same week. Fourteen of them added cases over the seven days. One revised down. Thirty-four published no new number at all. Kentucky is dated July 29 and Iowa July 30, both more than two weeks old. Nine states have published nothing since a press roundup on July 17. Illinois, Texas and Massachusetts did not move at all. 

Here is where all fifty of them stand tonight. The last column is whether FDA has confirmed that recalled Taylor Farms de Mexico lettuce reached that state. Thirty-one are confirmed, four more than a week ago, and nine further states and territories are marked as places the product may have gone. Forty-one states now publish a 2026 count of their own, forty of which are added into the total below.

State2026 casesAs ofAll of 2025Lettuce
Michigan13,909Aug 1350Yes
Ohio5,452Aug 1376Yes
Indiana1,983Aug 1327Yes
Missouri1,577Aug 9none reportedYes
Illinois995Aug 4301Yes
North Carolina906Aug 11300Yes
New York898Aug 10694Yes
Kansas748Aug 1229Yes
Kentucky620Jul 2945Yes
Oklahoma506Aug 1141Yes
Florida407Aug 8210Yes
West Virginia304Aug 148Yes
Arkansas252Aug 1013Yes
Iowa226Jul 3064Yes
Nebraska218Aug 651Yes
Wisconsin216Aug 565Yes
Texas198Aug 5512Yes
Virginia197Aug 10115Yes
Colorado150Jul 17205No
Massachusetts145Aug 574Yes
Alabama85Aug 319Yes
Pennsylvania82Jul 29not notifiableYes
Maryland69Jul 17123Yes
New Hampshire69Aug 47Yes
New Jersey46Jul 11180Yes
California41Jul 14not availableMay have
Minnesota41Jul 17none reportedNo
Washington36Aug 7not availableMay have
Connecticut35Jul 1741Yes
Maine27Aug 74Yes
Oregon23Jul 24not availableNo
Arizona19Jul 1749No
Georgia11Jul 17116Yes
Tennessee11Jul 1738Yes
Mississippi7Jul 22not notifiableYes
Alaska5Jul 166No
Rhode Island4Jul 176May have
South Dakota3Jul 163May have
Louisiana1Jul 1799Yes
Utah1Jul 1737No
Hawaii5, all travelAug 14not availableNo
Delawareno count published1May have
Idahono count publishednot notifiableNo
Montanano count published8No
Nevadano count publishednot notifiableNo
New Mexicono count published9No
North Dakotano count published4May have
South Carolinano count published45Yes
Vermontno count published3May have
Wyomingno count published0No
All fifty states30,523  31

30,523 is a floor, not an estimate. It is the sum of what forty health departments have published, on schedules running from daily to never, counted at the bottom of any range a state reports. Hawaii is the one state that publishes a number I do not add. All five of its cases are travel-associated by its own health department’s account, and this is a domestically acquired figure, which is the same reason CDC’s 1,530 travel cases sit outside it. Nine states publish nothing at all, and one of them, South Carolina, is on the federal distribution list and reported forty-five cases last year, so it plainly does make the disease notifiable. 

The floor is also the smallest of the three numbers in this piece, and none of them is the number of people who got sick. Most people with cyclosporiasis never get a stool test, because the parasite is missed by the routine ova and parasite exam and has to be asked for by name, and because somebody with a diarrheal illness that comes and goes for a month often never sees a doctor at all. The standard estimate of that gap comes from Scallan and colleagues, Foodborne Illness Acquired in the United States, Major Pathogens, in Emerging Infectious Diseases in 2011, which puts the underdiagnosis multiplier for Cyclospora at 83.1. Applied to CDC’s 13,895 laboratory-confirmed cases, that puts the real number near 1,155,000. It is an estimate with wide margins, and it is not a headcount, and I use it because the alternative is to let 30,523 stand as though it were the answer. It is not. It is the part we can count.

The date is the thing I would go looking at. Somebody at CDC changed June 22 to June 14 this week, and whoever did it was doing the job right. It also means this outbreak now officially begins two weeks before the earliest lettuce the recall reaches, and the meal behind that first illness came three weeks before it. Inspectors are finally standing in Guanajuato. The question they went there to answer just got two weeks older.

The fifty state health departments now report 29,920 cases of cyclosporiasis this season, eighty short of thirty thousand. The federal outbreak grew by half this week, and inspectors are finally inside the plant in Guanajuato.

A tip of the pen, because a good deal of the below is not my reporting. CNN’s investigation — Kyung Lah reported it, with Brenda Goodman’s earlier work on the traceback and the false positive, and Katherine Dillinger contributing — produced the inspection history that makes the timeline legible. Rachel Roubein, Lena H. Sun and Caitlin Gilbert at the Washington Post put the interval itself in a headline this week, which is the framing I have borrowed here. CBS News independently reported the seven-year gap. Reuters has carried the Mexican announcements throughout, Sarah Morland on the negative results and Siddhi Mahatole, Mariam Sunny and Mrinalika Roy on the Michigan counts out of Bengaluru. Coral Beach at Food Safety News has tracked the company’s statements. Food Safety Magazine had the inspection announcement first. And Phyllis Entis at eFoodAlert remains the only other person who went through the recall file line by line.

Two other things happened this week and they are being reported as though they happened together. They did not. Mexico’s Secretariat of Health announced that lettuce and water samples from the Taylor Farms de México plant in Doctor Mora, Guanajuato tested negative for Cyclospora cayetanensis. And FDA announced it had begun an onsite inspection and sampling at that same plant. The first happened in July. The second happened on August 13. Three and a half weeks separate them, and the gap is the story.

Take the Mexican findings first, because they are being read as an exoneration and they cannot carry that weight. Cofepris inspected the facility from July 18 to July 20, accompanied by epidemiologists from the Directorate General of Epidemiology and food safety specialists from Senasica. Its National Reference Laboratory and the Guanajuato State Public Health Laboratory ran real-time PCR on ten samples of raw materials and finished products. All ten were negative. Water samples were negative for fecal coliforms and within national physicochemical standards. The epidemiologists looked at worker health and found no diarrheal illness requiring intervention. I have no reason to doubt any of that. I doubt what people are making of it.

The dates answer most of it. Those samples were taken one to three days after the July 17 recall, and roughly four weeks after the median patient in this outbreak got sick. The lettuce that made people sick was cut and packed from late June through the middle of July. You cannot sample a plant on July 18 and learn what was on the leaves that left it in June. A negative result in the third week of July is a fact about the third week of July.

The fecal coliform result deserves its own paragraph, because it is the exact mistake I have been writing about all summer and a national government just made it in an official release. FDA says in its own voice that traditional fecal-indicator testing — generic E. coli, fecal coliforms — will not identify this parasite. Reporting clean coliforms as reassurance about Cyclospora is like testing a swimming pool for chlorine and announcing there are no sharks. Every water-quality standard in the produce industry is built on indicator bacteria, and the organism at the center of this outbreak is invisible to all of them. Ten samples is also a very small number for a contaminant that is sporadic and patchy and present at low levels when it is present at all.

The worker-health finding is the one I would push on hardest, and gently, because it is also the oldest thread here. Mexican epidemiologists found no diarrheal illness among workers in the third week of July, after the implicated harvest was over. In 2013, when a large cyclosporiasis outbreak was traced to this same Doctor Mora facility, FDA’s environmental assessment found that medical records of harvesting workers showed antidiarrheal medications and the antibiotic combination used to treat cyclosporiasis, though no diagnoses were recorded in the records inspectors saw. That proves nothing standing alone, and I say so every time I raise it. What it establishes is that looking for sick workers in July is not the same as knowing who was sick in June, and that somebody has been down this road at this address before. Senasica added one detail that reads as routine and is not: it invited the supplying growers to certify under Mexico’s Contamination Risk Reduction Systems program. You extend that invitation to people who do not already have it.

Now the American half. FDA’s inspectors reached Doctor Mora on August 13. Taylor Farms’ own information hub says the company temporarily suspended production of all products at that facility as of July 18, 2026. The inspection that began this week began at a plant that had been shut for twenty-six days, sampling lines that had not run since the day after the recall. How long had it been before that? CNN’s investigation established the answer. FDA had not sent an inspector to the Taylor Farms Mexico plant since 2019, and before that not since 2013 — the year of the last outbreak traced to the same address. In the first six months of 2026, five of the company’s more than 160,000 produce shipments from Mexico were physically inspected at the border. Taylor Farms’ Mexican operation is the single largest source of vegetable and prepared salad shipments into this country of any manufacturer in the world.

I want to be careful about where the blame for that lands. Not on the investigators. The people who ran the traceback that found this plant did that work in weeks, with a parasite that has no whole genome sequencing and no positive sample to anchor to, and they got there. The CORE analysts, the state epidemiologists and the traceback teams have been the functioning part of this response. Nobody was assigned to be in Doctor Mora in June. 

What would actually answer the question at this point is not another round of product sampling. The product is gone; the plant is idle and the lots that made people sick expired in July. What would answer it is the environmental record: the water sources and their history, the sanitation infrastructure around the growing fields, the worker medical and absence records from May and June rather than July, and the import history showing what crossed the border in the weeks before anyone was looking. FDA produced an environmental assessment at this facility in 2013 and published it. The 2026 version is the document to wait for.

The season closes on August 31, eighteen days from today. Inspectors are in the plant. The counting does not stop either way.

The Oma’s Pride recall notice has been rewritten, and the new version says something the first one did not. FDA has re-posted the company announcement with a line at the top explaining that the firm updated its press release “to include the reason for recall, illness information, and dates of distribution.” Here is the reason for recall: FDA received a consumer complaint, then collected and analyzed a sample of the product, and it tested positive for Salmonella. And here is the illness information, in its entirety: “Three illnesses have been reported to date in association with the complaint.”

That is the whole disclosure. Three illnesses. The notice does not say whether they were people or dogs.

It also does not say whether any of the three were culture-confirmed, whether a clinical isolate was whole-genome sequenced, or whether any of those sequences matched the Salmonella that FDA grew out of the bag. It does not give a serotype, a state, an age, or an onset date. It does not say whether anyone was hospitalized. Read carefully, the sentence does not even claim the three illnesses were caused by this food — they are “in association with the complaint,” which is a phrase describing where the report came from, not what made anyone sick.

The distinction between people and dogs is not a detail. If those three are human, then somewhere there are stool cultures, a PulseNet upload and a cluster, and this is not a routine sample-positive recall at all — it is an outbreak, and it ought to be announced as one. If those three are dogs, then they are outside every disease surveillance system this country has. There is no PulseNet for canine salmonellosis. There is no national database of sick pets. A dog’s illness gets counted only if the owner notices, calls the veterinarian, pays for a culture the veterinarian may not think to run, and then thinks to report it to the manufacturer or to FDA’s Safety Reporting Portal. Every one of those steps is voluntary, and most of them do not happen. Three reported illnesses in the pet food world is not a small number. It is the tip of something no one is measuring.

The recalled lot is BB012729: 639 bags of Woof Complete Canine Chicken Recipe in the 6-pound bag, item F-WOOFC-6, UPC 8 7938400145 9, manufactured January 27, 2026, with a best-by date of January 27, 2029. The updated notice now adds the distribution window — February 12 through May 15, 2026 — to retail and wholesale accounts and directly to consumers through online orders, shipped frozen, in Arizona, California, Indiana, Kentucky, Louisiana, Maryland, Nevada, New Jersey, New York, Pennsylvania and Virginia. Read that best-by date twice. Bags that shipped in February are sitting in home freezers right now with two and a half years of shelf life on the label telling the owner they are fine.

Notice too the distance between FDA’s headline and the announcement underneath it. The headline still says “Possible Salmonella Health Risk.” The company’s own first sentence says the product is contaminated with Salmonella. Not possible. Is. Somebody cultured this food and grew the bug, three illnesses are now on the page, and the headline a pet owner reads in four seconds while scrolling a recall list still says “possible.”

The dogs are only half of it. The people who get hurt in raw pet food cases are very often the ones who never ate a bite — the owner who thaws the portion, scoops the bowl, rinses it in the kitchen sink, wipes the counter with a sponge and then makes a sandwich. Salmonella does not care that the package said “dog.” It produces nausea, vomiting, diarrhea or bloody diarrhea, cramps and fever, and in a minority of people it goes further — bloodstream and arterial infections, endocarditis, reactive arthritis that can last for years. The children in the house are the ones on the floor with the dog, and an infected dog that never looks sick a day in its life can shed the organism for weeks.

None of this is new to FDA. The agency’s own Center for Veterinary Medicine screened more than a thousand pet food samples over two years and found raw pet food far more likely than any other kind to carry Salmonella and Listeria monocytogenes — 38 of 196 raw samples positive for one or both. FDA’s advice ever since has been blunt: the single best way to avoid these infections is not to feed a raw diet. Freezing is not a kill step. It is a pause button.

When I wrote about this recall on Wednesday, I gave Oma’s Pride credit for moving quickly, and against the comparison at hand it still deserves some. Days earlier the Justice Department, on FDA’s behalf, walked into federal court in Seattle and asked for a permanent injunction against Arrow Reliance, Inc., d/b/a Darwin’s Natural Pet Products, and its owner — a company that, according to the government’s complaint, turned down FDA recall requests in 2022, 2023, 2024 and 2025 while twelve of the agency’s eighteen most recent samples came back positive for pathogens, and whose food matched, genome to genome, the E. coli O157:H7 that put a four-year-old boy in the hospital. A company that pulls 639 bags when asked is not that company.

But the updated notice changes the shape of the credit. This recall did not begin with the plant’s own testing catching a problem before it left the building. It began with somebody outside the company — a consumer with a complaint — and it took a government sample to confirm what that complaint suggested. The product had already been in distribution for three months and out of the plant for six. A raw product with no kill step is protected by nothing but the cleanliness of the incoming meat and the plant around it, and when the confirmation comes from a consumer complaint and a federal lab rather than from the company’s own release testing, the honest reading is that the controls did not hold and nothing inside the building caught it.

Testing also finds only what it happens to find. A positive on one lot from one production day is a sample result, not a boundary. What ran before it on that line, and after? What did the environmental swabs show? The company says it is conducting further investigation to better understand the finding, and that investigation is where the real answer lives — but so far the public has been given one lot, three unexplained illnesses and a species left blank.

If you have this bag, stop feeding it now. Do not donate it, do not sell it, do not scoop out one more meal. Bag it, throw it away, and then wash and sanitize the bowl, the scoop, the container, the counter and your hands. Oma’s Pride is taking calls at 1-800-678-OMAS, weekdays 8:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m. Eastern, and at hello@omaspride.com, and it is offering refunds. If someone in your house has been sick, or your dog has, call the doctor or the veterinarian and say the words “raw pet food” out loud. That sentence is what turns a stool culture into a case, and a case into a recall that catches the next 639 bags. It is also, on this record, the only way anyone will ever learn whether those three illnesses walked on two legs or four.

I have spent the last month counting sick people. The fifty state health departments now report 26,755 cases of cyclosporiasis this season, against 249 nationally at this point last year, and I have written about almost nothing else since the middle of July. Today I want to write about something that worked, because I think it is the most useful thing I know, and because I can prove it out of my own billing records.

I do not try hamburger cases anymore. In the early 1990s ground beef was among the most dangerous things in the American diet. E. coli O157:H7 outbreaks tied to hamburger came several times a year, hundreds sick at a time, children in kidney failure. That is the practice I started with in 1993, and it is the practice I lost. That is because by the middle of the next decade the big ground beef outbreaks had become rare (no pun intended).  That is not a complaint. It is a report on progress, and I would like more of it.

What happened with hamburger was not luck. On September 29, 1994, a month into the job, FSIS administrator Mike Taylor took the podium at the American Meat Institute convention in San Francisco and told the room that the agency considered raw ground beef contaminated with E. coli O157:H7 to be adulterated within the meaning of the Federal Meat Inspection Act, and that the government would begin testing for it. The Washington Post later described it as an oh-by-the-way moment several pages into a speech, delivered to an audience that had no warning it was coming. I have written about that day before. The industry sued, arguing that the agency had skipped the rulemaking administrative process and acted beyond its authority. The district court held otherwise — FSIS was entitled to interpret its own statute and to say what an adulterant is. No new law was passed. No money was appropriated. One official, Mike Taylor,  decided to do something. He took to the podium and declared beef contaminated with E. coli O157:H7 to be adulterated. 

Four things had to be true at once, and that is the part worth carrying forward. One, the toxic  organism was named. Here: E. coli O157:H7.  Two, a legal status was attached to that name, which meant a positive finding of the organism had a consequence (versus just filing the results away in some file cabinet.)  Three, there was a required test, run by the government and then by industry, on a schedule nobody could opt out of. And four, there was verification that outlasted the news cycle: the Pathogen Reduction and HACCP rule in 1996, and beef trim brought inside the designation in 1999. Name, status, test and verification. Remove any one of the four and what you have is a press release.

The numbers moved, and they stayed moved. Across the original FoodNet sites, sporadic laboratory-confirmed O157 infections ran between 1.9 and 2.3 per 100,000 from 1996 through 1999. But by 2004 the rate had fallen below one per 100,000 — 42 percent under the 1996 to 1998 baseline, and the first time a Healthy People 2010 foodborne illness goal (an important metric)  was met at all. CDC’s most recent long-run reportstill shows O157 down against the 2016 to 2018 reference period. Thirty years is long enough to tell the difference between a trend and a good year.

Then we did it a second time.  The second time did not start with a willing administrator. It started with a petition. By the late 2000s the Shiga toxin-producing E. coli that were not O157 were sickening more Americans than O157 was, and no agency was required to look for them. I paid for the looking myself — roughly half a million dollars of my own money, with Dr. Mansour Samadpour at the Institute for Environmental Health, testing five thousand retail packages of ground beef for every E. coli that turned up. About two percent were contaminated. I briefed USDA scientists and took the findings to the National Meat Association and the American Meat Institute. Nothing happened. In 2009 my firm filed a citizen petitionasking FSIS to declare enterohemorrhagic non-O157 strains adulterants, and we filed it in the names of three people — June Dunning, who died of an O146:H21 infection in 2006, Megan Richards and Shiloh Johnson. The agency did not respond within the time the law gives it. I told them I would sue. They acknowledged receipt.

It took three more years, and then it worked the same way it had worked in 1994. In 2012 FSIS declared six more serogroups adulterants — O26, O45, O103, O111, O121 and O145 — and began routinely testing raw beef manufacturing trim for all of them, with positive trim barred from commerce and subject to recall. The industry predicted economic catastrophe, as it had the first time. But the system adapted, illnesses declined, and the sky did not fall. I keep that episode close for one reason. The 1994 declaration required an administrator willing to “walk to a podium” and declare change. (That is a rare event.) The 2012 declaration, however,  required a lawyer, a microbiologist, three injured strangers and a threatened lawsuit. (The latter is not rare at all.)  The door is not locked, and it does not only open from the inside.

Let me be careful about how much we celebrate this advance completely. The win is specific. In that same CDC report, non-O157 Shiga toxin-producing E. coli held roughly stable, and nonserogrouped infections rose substantially, most of that a consequence of laboratories switching to culture-independent panels that find what culture missed. I still have beef cases, albeit few and far between. This spring nine Californians were infected with O157:H7 traced to beef kofta, five hospitalized, two of them children who went into hemolytic uremic syndrome. Ground beef is safer than it once was. But it is not entirely safe. And anyone who tells you that the four-step protocol described above ends the problem has never sat in a pediatric nephrology waiting room.

Be honest about what a designation did and did not do. It cleaned nothing by itself. What cleaned hamburger was a decade of work the beef industry paid for and eventually defended — steam vacuums, hot water and organic acid carcass interventions, testing regimes that went well past what the government required, and an industry council that declared food safety a non-competitive subject and meant it. The designation created the reason. The companies did the work. That is why I say the beef industry put me out of that business.   The naming by the government of an  adulterant without an industry that decides to solve the problem is meaningless. It only insures that  lawsuits will continue.  It is not a public health program. What it does is make the problem impossible to ignore, and that turns out to be the hard part.

Here is the part I did not see coming. The E. coli did not disappear. It moved. The leading vehicle for O157 in this country is no longer hamburger; it is lettuce. I am in the leafy greens business because the beef fix worked, and the pathogen went looking for a commodity where none of the four elements exist. That is the single most useful sentence I can offer anybody who wants to understand how American food safety actually behaves. Pressure applied in one place is real, and “the problem” relocates.

Which brings me to the law I asked for, and to the promise inside it that has not been kept. In the spring of 2007, I testified before the House Energy and Commerce Committee at a hearing titled A Diminished Capacity, and my pitch was the one I have been making ever since: modernize the system and deny me the opportunity to sue. I brought dozens of clients to Washington across those years to put faces on it. The Food Safety Modernization Act was signed on January 4, 2011, and it was the right law.

Fifteen years on, here is what actually got built. GAO is still telling FDA to build the product tracing system that section 204 required, and the traceability rule itself now sits parked until July 2028. FSMA’s produce rule set an actual number for irrigation water and the agency repealed it. FSMA set a foreign inspection schedule that would have reached 19,200 inspections a year, and GAO found FDA averaging 917from fiscal 2018 through 2023 with 432 investigators covering the whole world and this country too. And the finding that ought to embarrass everyone: GAO reported that FDA has no process for measuring whether its FSMA rules prevent illness at all. We passed a prevention statute and never built the instrument that would tell us if prevention happened. In plain English: Congress told FDA to be able to trace a food back through the supply chain in a matter of hours, to inspect foreign suppliers on a fixed schedule, and to prevent illness rather than count it after the fact. The tracing rule is parked, the foreign inspections are running at roughly one in twenty of the promised pace, and the agency cannot say whether any of it has prevented a single case.

Now think of the four prerequisites for change and  the summer we are experiencing, starting with the parasite. Cyclospora has a name. It has legal status in American food law. FDA has had a validated method (a test) for detecting it in fresh produce, romaine included, since 2017, and a validated method for testing agricultural water since 2020. Nobody is required to run either one, so almost nobody does. Name, yes. Status, yes. Test, available and optional. Verification, none.  Result: Twenty-six thousand people have been made ill. And the number is growing.

Why is there no mandatory testing of pre-harvest agricultural water? The number setting the standard was written, and then it was withdrawn. The 2015 rule set a geometric mean of no more than 126 colony-forming units of generic E. coli per 100 mL and required growers to test against it. The compliance dates were pushed back, enforcement discretion was announced before the first of them arrived, and in May 2024 the criterion and the testing requirement were replaced outright by an annual assessment in which the grower evaluates his own water and decides for himself what to do about it. I walked through that record this week in connection with the jalapeños out of Sinaloa. Nine years, three delays and a repeal, and not one farm ever had to hit the number.

What’s the most conspicuous missing designation?  Salmonella. The organism should be named as an adulterant in meat and poultry. In January 2020 my firm petitioned FSIS on behalf of Rick Schiller, Steven Romes, the Porter family, all Salmonella victims, Food and Water Watch, the Consumer Federation of America and Consumer Reports to declare thirty-one outbreak serotypes adulterants. FSIS docketed it and took comments. Six years on, the agency has not granted it, and its position remains what it has been for decades — that Salmonella is not an adulterant in raw product because ordinary cooking kills it. That is precisely the argument that was made about O157:H7 before September of 1994, by the same agency, under the same law. I handed them the list six years ago, and the current head of food safety went on camera this summer to say she is more convinced than ever that it should not be done. People do not eat food under laboratory conditions. That was the answer in 1994, and it is the answer now. And it is not only what the agency will not grant. In August 2024 FSIS proposed the Salmonella Framework for Raw Poultry Products, which would have set enforceable final product standards for chicken and turkey. It drew 7,089 comments, and on April 25, 2025 the agency withdrew it. In its withdrawal notice FSIS listed its own legal authority to set those standards first among the issues that generated the most comment.

Mike Taylor, the man who named E. coli  an adulterant in 1994,  is trying  to do the same thing today by naming Salmonella adulterant. Mike Taylor is now board member emeritus at Stop Foodborne Illness, and he has written publicly that our poultry safety regulation is not working, and that the ground beef rules were effective because there was a scientific basis for declaring that strain an adulterant. He put it more bluntly in March of 2025, five weeks before the framework was withdrawn. Writing in Food Safety News, he set the two commodities side by side: dangerous E. coli is legally prohibited in ground beef, there is no USDA limit on Salmonella in chicken, and contaminated chicken ships every day with the USDA mark on the label. He called the claim that USDA lacks the legal authority to act the most absurd of the industry’s arguments, for the plain reason that USDA used that same authority decades ago on ground beef. He also priced the objection: at the top of USDA’s own compliance-cost estimate, the cost to the industry is less than a tenth of a cent per pound. And he named the part that ought to sting. The food safety scientists who run the programs at Perdue, Tyson, Wayne Farms and Butterball signed a 2021 letter to Secretary Vilsack asking for enforceable standards and then sat silent at the December 2024 public meeting while the National Chicken Council and the Meat Institute made the no-authority argument for them. That is not a plaintiffs’ lawyer’s theory about what the law permits. It is the architect of the program describing the “load-bearing wall”.

One more small, but very big thing: baby formula. Babies were hospitalized this year with infant botulism after being fed powdered formula. In July, FDA wrote to the formula industry and named the organism: Clostridium botulinum, on its own letterhead no less.  But it required no test for it. What the industry runs instead is a surrogate count, a general measure of sulfite-reducing clostridia that has stood in for the actual organism since an expert opinion in 2014, and that nobody has been made to revisit since. Element one is finished. FDA has already named the organism. Elements two, three and four are simply absent. H.R. 7867 would supply them. I have bought five hundred and thirty-five t-shirts, one for every member of Congress, and they arrived last week. Every one of them says the same thing, which is to test infant formula for botulism. It is not a sophisticated argument.  (Nothing about the 1994 argument was sophisticated either.)

I am hopeful, and I want to be precise about why. Nothing in this argument for better food safety requires inventing anything. Every element that fixed hamburger already exists as an available action under laws already on the books. FSIS did not need a statute in 1994; it needed an administrator willing to say a sentence and then defend it in court. In 2012 it did not even need that — it needed a petition somebody was prepared to litigate. FDA does not need a new law to require a Cyclospora method it validated nine years ago, or to put a number back on irrigation water, or to build the traceability system Congress ordered in 2011. I listed fifteen of these last week, and four of them require no rulemaking, no appropriation and no act of Congress at all.

I have been asking the food industry to put me out of business for thirty years, and I said it under oath in a hearing room in 2007. With E. coli in hamburger it has actually happened, in one commodity, against one family of organisms. I would like to see it happen again and I do not think the obstacle is knowledge, or science, or money. We know the names of these organisms. We know how to test for them. We know exactly what a consequence looks like, because we attached one to hamburger in a single speech in 1994 and never took it off. What is missing is somebody willing to walk to the podium, like Mike Taylor did and name the organism— or, failing that, somebody willing to file another petition. 

Yesterday I counted twelve letters from members of Congress about this outbreak. It is thirteen. Senator Elizabeth Warren wrote to Health and Human Services Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr. on August 13, the same day I published, and her letter is the thirteenth. Five from the House, eight from the Senate. She asks nine questions and wants them answered by August 27.

That is the sixth time this count has moved on me, and it is worth saying plainly that the problem with these letters is not the people writing them. The questions in Warren’s letter are the most specific anybody has asked. Her first question has six subparts and every one of them goes at the July 18 positive test that FDA retracted on July 19. She asks what protocols exist to verify a result before it is released, why FDA reevaluated the finding, whether it reevaluated because Taylor Farms or its representatives asked, whether a political appointee asked, and she demands a transcript of the reported call among the White House, the company and FDA. Nobody else has gone near that sequence in this much detail.

The subpart that matters most is the last one, and it is the only question in thirteen letters that is actually about food safety rather than about politics. If confirmation testing is a standard part of FDA’s procedures, why was the positive communicated to the public before the sample was reevaluated?

Three more of her questions deserve answers whatever anybody thinks of the politics. Her fifth and sixth ask what it costs the department to track, trace and treat cyclosporiasis, broken out for each year from 2016 through 2025, and then what this one has cost. Her seventh asks how many of the states formerly required to report Cyclospora under FoodNet have stopped reporting since July 2025, with a state-by-state breakdown. Every letter since July 14 has asserted that the FoodNet change damaged surveillance, and that question is the one that would prove it or disprove it. She also asks CDC for its own estimate of how many cases have gone unreported, which would be the federal government finally putting a multiplier next to its own count.

Here is the thing about all four of those questions. The answers exist. They are sitting in federal file cabinets and federal spreadsheets right now, and any competent analyst at CDC could produce the FoodNet breakdown in an afternoon. Nothing in Warren’s letter can make anybody walk to the cabinet. Seven dated deadlines across these thirteen letters have now expired and I cannot find a published answer to a single one of them. Senator Ossoff gave the Secretary seventy-two hours, got nothing, and had to spend a second letter saying so. A letter from a member of Congress is a request. It is answered when the agency feels like answering it, and this agency does not feel like it.

Here is the whole list, updated. The column on the right is the one to read.

DateWho wroteWritten toWhat was askedDeadline and status
July 14Sen. Amy Klobuchar (MN)CDC, FDARestore FoodNet, FERN, FSIS, the infrastructure grants and the block grantNone set. No answer found
July 15Rep. Greg Stanton (AZ)Sec. KennedySix questions on who ordered the FoodNet cut, what funding was lost and how many staffAug 3. Passed, no answer found
July 16Sen. Jon Ossoff (GA)Sec. KennedyThree questions: restore Cyclospora tracking, why it was ended, investigation status72 hours, Jul 19. Passed, no answer found
July 17Reps. Dingell, McDonald Rivet, Scholten, Tlaib (MI)CDC, FDATen questions from inside the outbreak, including whether they agree with Michigan on leafy greensJul 24. Passed, no answer found
July 20Rep. Josh Gottheimer (NJ)CDCRestore FoodNet to mandatory active surveillance, plus two billsNone set. No answer found
c. July 20Sens. Blumenthal (CT), Booker (NJ)CDCA briefing on how the outbreak was tracked and whether staffing cuts caused the delayEnd of the following week. Passed, no answer found
July 24Sen. Jon Ossoff (GA)Sec. KennedyThe same three questions again, after the first letter went unansweredNone set. No answer found
July 27Rep. Robert Garcia (CA)Bruce Taylor, Taylor FarmsFive document categories and five questions, including facility records back to Jan 1, 2013Aug 10. Passed, no production found
July 28Sen. Kirsten Gillibrand (NY)CDC, FDASix questions on the FoodNet baseline, LFFM cuts, FERN capacity and state laboratory supportJul 31. Passed, no answer found
July 30Sen. Richard Blumenthal (CT)Acting Comm. DiamantasAll FDA records on the response, its disclosure policies, and every White House and Taylor Farms communicationAug 13. Passed, no answer found
July 30Sen. Richard Blumenthal (CT)Bruce Taylor, Taylor FarmsAll company records on the response and every White House and FDA communicationAug 13. Passed, no production found
July 30Reps. Veasey, Dingell, Sewell and about 50 colleaguesCDC, FDAGreater transparency and immediate action to identify the sourceNone set. No answer found
Aug 13Sen. Elizabeth Warren (MA)Sec. KennedyNine questions on the retracted test, the White House call, what the outbreak has cost and which states still reportAug 27. Pending

That brings me to the part I actually want to write about. There is one committee in this fight that can compel an answer, and nobody has asked it to.

Senator Richard Blumenthal wrote to FDA and to Bruce Taylor on July 30 as ranking member of the Senate Permanent Subcommittee on Investigations. PSI is the Senate’s standing investigative body, and it has subpoena power. Those two letters ask for every communication between FDA and the White House about this outbreak and about Taylor Farms, and the records definition names Signal and WhatsApp by name. Both letters were copied to Chairman Ron Johnson. Both deadlines were yesterday. Neither has been answered, and a ranking member cannot issue a subpoena alone. That takes the chairman’s signature or a vote of the subcommittee. One person could change the posture of this entire investigation by close of business and has not.

On the House side, Robert Garcia sent Taylor Fresh Foods five categories of documents and five written questions on July 27, including every communication with the White House since January 2025 and every sanitation, audit and contamination record for the plant in Mexico going back to 2013. The deadline was August 10. No production has been reported, and the company is under no obligation, because Garcia is in the minority and a minority document request is a letter with better stationery. The Oversight majority could adopt that same request this morning and it would be answered, because that request would have the committee behind it.

And there is the oldest tool of all, which is a hearing. Put the commissioner and the director under oath, put the company in the room, and ask the questions on the record with a transcript. This is not a novel idea for this parasite. The same Permanent Subcommittee on Investigations held a hearing on Cyclospora in imported produce in July 1998, with CDC scientists and a woman who had been sick testifying about the same problem. Twenty-eight years later, same subcommittee, same parasite, no hearing.

There is also something Congress can do without anybody’s permission, and not one of the thirteen letters asks for it. Warren asks whether the March 2025 delay of the food traceability rule was influenced by a million dollars that went to MAGA Inc. the following week, and by another hundred thousand that went to a second Trump-aligned committee on June 13, 2025, a few weeks before the administration dropped mandatory reporting of Cyclospora and five other pathogens. That is a fair question, and she is careful to frame it as a question. But asking whether the delay was bought is not the same as ending the delay. Section 780 of last November’s appropriations act bars FDA from spending a dime to enforce that rule before July 2028 and instructs the agency to go looking for ways to loosen the lot-level tracking requirement, which is the part of the rule that would actually let anybody follow a case of lettuce backward. Eleven consumer, public health and labor groups wrote to the four congressional leaders on August 12 asking them to rescind it. Thirteen members have written letters about this outbreak and none of them has asked for that. A rider can be undone by the same body that wrote it, and nobody needs the Secretary’s cooperation to do it.

The letters have also turned up facts that then went nowhere, which is its own kind of failure. Warren’s letter reports that CDC cut the staff responsible for tracking and identifying parasites from eleven people to three. It reports that USDA’s Beltsville Agricultural Research Center is being closed and relocated, and that two of the laboratories inside it investigate and sequence this parasite. That second one ought to have stopped somebody in their tracks. There is no whole genome sequencing available for Cyclospora, and CDC says so on its own page. When CDC decides that a sick person in Ohio and a sick person in Michigan belong to the same outbreak, it is not matching genomes the way it would for Salmonella or E. coli. It is working from genetic markers, and the methods behind that work come out of a very small number of federal parasitology laboratories. Two of them are being packed into boxes while the largest outbreak of this parasite in American history is still going. That fact appears in one footnote of one letter, and nobody has followed it anywhere.

And then there is the question none of the thirteen has asked at all. Not one of these letters asks how the parasite got onto the lettuce. Nothing about irrigation water. Nothing about the sewage and sanitation failures in the communities around the plant at Doctor Mora. Nothing asking why an industry that tests constantly for indicator organisms does not test for this parasite, or whether a validated test for it on finished product even exists. Nothing about the fourteen states that received the recalled product and have no attributed cases. Nothing asking whether consumers in Mexico, where FDA now confirms the recalled lettuce was sold, were ever told. FDA likely got inspectors inside the plant in Guanajuato on August 13, twenty-seven days after the recall, and not one member of Congress had asked when that was going to happen.

That gap matters more than it looks. Taylor Farms de Mexico is a processing plant. The lettuce arriving at it is grown by other people on other ground, with other water. If this parasite came off that water, then everything Congress is asking about, the phone calls and the donations and the press releases, sits downstream of a problem nobody has put in writing to anybody. The counting problem and the corruption problem are both real. They are also both consequences.

Thirteen letters, thirteen Democrats. Foodborne illness used to be the least partisan subject in Washington. Rosa DeLauro wrote FDA about Cyclospora outbreak traced to this same part of Mexico in 2013, asking on what legal authority the government could identify a source and decline to name it, and wrote again in 2018 about another one. Nobody at the time thought counting sick people was a party matter. Every tool I have described here belongs to the majority. The chairman’s signature on a PSI subpoena, the Oversight majority adopting Garcia’s request, a hearing date, a vote to strike Section 780. None of it requires a single Democrat.

Thirteen letters in a month. Seven dated deadlines expired. Nine good questions from Senator Warren due back on August 27, which will pass the way the other seven did unless somebody with a gavel decides otherwise. As of last night, the fifty states were reporting 29,912 cases and the two agencies attribute 9,481 of them to this lettuce. Two people are dead. I am watching, and so are twenty-nine thousand nine hundred and twelve other people, and not one of us chose to be part of it.

Four days ago, I published a piece counting eleven letters from members of Congress about the Cyclospora outbreak and said that not one of them had been answered. The second half of that sentence still holds. The first half was wrong. It is twelve. The letter I missed came from Senator Kirsten Gillibrand of New York on July 28, and it is one of the more useful documents any member has produced on this outbreak. Today is August 13, which is the day both of Senator Blumenthal’s deadlines come due, so this is the right morning to set the list straight.

Gillibrand wrote to the acting director of CDC and the acting commissioner of FDA with six questions and asked for answers by July 31. Her office published the full text the day it went out, and the signed letter is posted as well. A three-day fuse is the shortest deadline of any letter in this outbreak except Senator Ossoff’s seventy-two hours. It expired thirteen days ago.

What makes her letter worth more than a line in a table is that it carries figures that appear in none of the other eleven. She writes that the number of active food safety laboratories in the Food Emergency Response Network has fallen from forty-one to fifteen. She writes that the Laboratory Flexible Funding Model was cut by twenty-five percent, which has forced laboratories across the country to freeze hiring, reduce scientific staff and delay replacing diagnostic equipment. She writes that CDC can currently fund only forty percent of state requests for foodborne disease surveillance and response. And she writes that federal staffing cuts forced the suspension of quality checks across FDA’s national network of laboratories that test food for pathogens, this parasite included.

Take those four sentences together and you have the most specific public inventory anybody has published of what happened to the laboratory layer underneath this outbreak. Senator Klobuchar named the Food Emergency Response Network in the first letter of the series on July 14 and gave no numbers. Forty-one to fifteen is a number. It says that when fifteen states are reporting illnesses tied to one supplier and the country needs samples run, there are fifteen laboratories in the network instead of forty-one. Her phrase for what all of this produced is dangerous blind spots, and on the evidence of the last four weeks that is not rhetoric.

Her letter also quietly settles a small dispute inside the record. She describes Cyclospora coming off the mandatory FoodNet list along with five other pathogens, which is six removed from eight and leaves two. That matches what Representative Stanton and Senator Blumenthal both wrote. Senator Klobuchar’s letter says the list went from ten pathogens to two, and hers is now the only version of that figure in the file.

Start with the credit, because it is still owed. A letter from a member of Congress is not a subpoena and it is not a rule. I have spent thirty-three years watching letters like these go into a drawer. But a letter puts a specific question in writing with a name underneath it, and it creates a date on which somebody either answered or did not. Foodborne illness does not usually get twelve letters in seventeen days. Every one of these members spent staff time and political attention on a parasite most of the country had never heard of in May, and the people I represent are better off for it than they would be if nobody had bothered.

Five deadlines have now come and gone. Senator Ossoff’s seventy-two hours expired July 19, and he wrote a second letter on July 24 saying so, which is the single cleanest proof in this whole file that a deadline without a mechanism behind it is a suggestion. The four Michigan House members asked for answers by July 24. Gillibrand asked by July 31. Representative Stanton asked by August 3. And Representative Garcia asked Bruce Taylor for five categories of documents, five written answers and a briefing by August 10, which was Monday. As of this morning I cannot find a published answer, a published production, or a statement from any office involved saying one arrived.

Two more come due today. Writing as ranking member of the Senate Permanent Subcommittee on Investigations, Senator Blumenthal sent one letter to the acting FDA commissioner and a second to Bruce Taylor, both dated July 30, both due August 13, both copied to Chairman Ron Johnson. Both demand every communication with the White House, expressly including the Executive Office of the President and the Domestic Policy Council, and every communication between the agency and the company. The records definition names Signal and WhatsApp, which tells you the subcommittee has done this before. It is the Senate’s standing investigative body, it has subpoena capacity, and it is the same subcommittee that held a hearing on Cyclospora in imported raspberries in July 1998. Twenty-eight years, same subcommittee, same parasite.

Here is the whole list, corrected.

DateWho wroteWritten toWhat was askedDeadline and status
July 14Sen. Amy Klobuchar (MN)CDC, FDARestore FoodNet, FERN, FSIS, the infrastructure grants and the block grantNone set. No answer found
July 15Rep. Greg Stanton (AZ)Sec. KennedySix questions on who ordered the FoodNet cut, what funding was lost and how many staffAug 3. Passed, no answer found
July 16Sen. Jon Ossoff (GA)Sec. KennedyThree questions: restore Cyclospora tracking, why it was ended, investigation status72 hours, Jul 19. Passed, no answer found
July 17Reps. Dingell, McDonald Rivet, Scholten, Tlaib (MI)CDC, FDATen questions from inside the outbreak, including whether they agree with Michigan on leafy greensJul 24. Passed, no answer found
July 20Rep. Josh Gottheimer (NJ)CDCRestore FoodNet to mandatory active surveillance, plus two billsNone set. No answer found
c. July 20Sens. Blumenthal (CT), Booker (NJ)CDCA briefing on how the outbreak was tracked and whether staffing cuts caused the delayEnd of the following week. Passed, no answer found
July 24Sen. Jon Ossoff (GA)Sec. KennedyThe same three questions again, after the first letter went unansweredNone set. No answer found
July 27Rep. Robert Garcia (CA)Bruce Taylor, Taylor FarmsFive document categories and five questions, including facility records back to Jan 1, 2013Aug 10. Passed, no production found
July 28Sen. Kirsten Gillibrand (NY)CDC, FDASix questions on the FoodNet baseline, LFFM cuts, FERN capacity and state laboratory supportJul 31. Passed, no answer found
July 30Sen. Richard Blumenthal (CT)Acting Comm. DiamantasAll FDA records on the response, its disclosure policies, and every White House and Taylor Farms communicationAug 13. Due today
July 30Sen. Richard Blumenthal (CT)Bruce Taylor, Taylor FarmsAll company records on the response and every White House and FDA communicationAug 13. Due today
July 30Reps. Veasey, Dingell, Sewell and about 50 colleaguesCDC, FDAGreater transparency and immediate action to identify the sourceNone set. No answer found

Two cautions about that table, and I would rather say them myself than have somebody find them. The first is that I believe it is every letter and I am not certain it is. This one is built from press releases, from posted PDFs and from reporting where an office posted nothing, and a letter sent quietly without a release is exactly the kind I would not see. That is not a hypothetical worry. The count in this file has gone from seven to nine to ten to eleven and now to twelve, and four separate times the correction came after publication. The second caution is that the last column says no answer found, and it means that and nothing more. An agency can answer a member privately and often does, and neither side has any obligation to publish it. If an answer exists, send it to me. I will correct the post and say plainly that I had it wrong, the way I am doing here. The list of answers is the column I would most like to see grow.

One pattern runs through nearly all twelve, and it is not a criticism of any member. Gillibrand’s release describes more than four thousand confirmed cases nationwide. That was CDC’s July 21 figure, published a week before her letter. Representative Gottheimer’s announcement put the outbreak at about seven thousand cases in thirty-four states. The Michigan delegation’s letter said more than three thousand seven hundred cases in Michigan while its own press release that same day said more than five thousand. The fifty-three-member Veasey letter described more than four thousand Americans across forty-one states on a day when the states themselves were reporting over twenty-one thousand. And yesterday’s letter from eleven consumer, public health and labor groups says nearly thirty thousand illnesses on page one and 22,683 on page two. Five letters to Congress, or from advocates to Congress, carrying numbers that were already out of date when they were signed. That is not carelessness on anybody’s part. It is what happens when the federal count runs six weeks behind the states and there is no central place to compare the two, which is the exact problem Senator Klobuchar identified in the first letter of the series.

All twelve were written by Democrats. I said that four days ago and it has not changed. Senator Chris Murphy of Connecticut put out a video on Tuesday calling this a corruption story rather than a public health one, which is not a letter and does not go on the list, but it is the first time a member has taken the donation-and-delay sequence straight to camera. Ron Johnson has been copied on two Senate letters as subcommittee chairman and has not joined either. I have said before that foodborne illness was historically the least partisan subject in Washington and I will keep saying it. Rosa DeLauro wrote FDA and CDC in August 2013 asking whether it is acceptable to identify the source of an outbreak and withhold it from the public, in the outbreak traced to this same Mexican facility, and she wrote FDA again in August 2018on the Fresh Express outbreak. Same questions, thirteen and eight years earlier, and nobody thought of them as a party position.

Ten of the twelve aim primarily at FoodNet, and FoodNet is not the instrument that would have caught this. It measures trends in ten sites; the systems that detect an outbreak and connect cases across state lines are the notifiable disease system and the laboratory networks. Restoring Cyclospora to the mandatory list is worth doing and it would not have found this lettuce three weeks sooner. Two asks would have. One is the traceability rule, delayed thirty months by FDA and then frozen by Congress until July 2028 in a rider that also tells FDA to go back and find flexibilities around lot-level tracking. The other is the laboratory capacity Gillibrand actually counted. Garcia’s letter is the only one of the twelve that names the traceability delay, and he names it next to a million-dollar donation that landed less than a week after the administration agreed to it.

What I would ask of the members who wrote is simply the next step. The Permanent Subcommittee on Investigations has subpoena power and a Republican chairman who has been copied on both letters, and if today passes without a production that is the tool that exists. The Oversight Committee’s majority can adopt Garcia’s document request and make it the committee’s rather than the minority’s. Any of the four committees with jurisdiction can hold a hearing, put the acting commissioner under oath and ask him the six questions Gillibrand asked in writing. Twelve letters have established that this administration does not answer letters. That finding is now made. The next move has to be a mechanism.

A disclosure. My firm represents people sickened in this outbreak and has filed cases naming Taylor Farms entities as defendants. Everything above is on the public record either way.

The reason to keep the list is the arithmetic underneath it. CDC now reports 13,895 laboratory-confirmed cases since May 1 with another 10,455 awaiting analysis, 740 hospitalizations and two deaths, across forty-seven states plus the District of Columbia and Puerto Rico. FDA’s outbreak page still says 6,358 across fifteen states and is stamped August 5, eight days ago, and Maine declared itself into this outbreak six days ago and is still not on it. My own fifty-state floor, built by hand from what the states themselves publish, stood at 29,798 this morning. There are eighteen days left in the season these letters were written about. I am watching, and so are twenty-nine thousand seven hundred and ninety-eight other people, and not one of us chose to be part of this.

The fifty state health departments now report 29,798 cases of cyclosporiasis this season, up 1,424 from the 28,374 published yesterday. One state moved, and it moved by more than any state has moved in a single day all summer. Michigan reported 13,909 cases and 314 hospitalizations on Thursday.

That is 1,424 cases in one week, and it arrived a week after Michigan told its residents to resume routine guidance for lettuce and salad greens. Both things can be true, and both are. The state health department says new case reports and emergency department visits are declining, and the weekly pace has in fact eased, from roughly 285 a day to roughly 200. It is still 1,424 people. Michigan records about fifty cases of cyclosporiasis in a normal year. It just booked twenty-eight years of them in seven days, and it is still the largest weekly increase of any state in the country. The largest age group in the Michigan data is thirty to thirty-nine, with 2,615 cases, which is to say working adults who eat lunch somewhere.

One comparison in Thursday’s numbers deserves to be pulled out and looked at. CDC reports 13,895laboratory-confirmed cases of cyclosporiasis for the entire United States since May 1. Michigan, by itself, now reports 13,909. One state has passed the national laboratory-confirmed count. The two figures are not the same measurement, and nobody should pretend they are, because Michigan counts probable cases and CDC does not. That is the point. The gap between what a state can see in its own residents and what the federal surveillance system has managed to confirm is now wider than the federal number itself.

No federal number moved. FDA still reports 6,358 illnesses, 278 hospitalizations and two deaths in fifteen states, stamped August 5, which is now eight days old. Maine issued a public health advisory on August 7 saying it meets the criteria for the multistate outbreak, and six days later the federal advisory still says fifteen states and does not name it. CDC’s national surveillance page was updated August 11 and still reads 13,895 laboratory-confirmed plus at least 10,455 awaiting further investigation, a total of 24,350, covering data through August 10 across 47 states plus the District of Columbia and Puerto Rico.

The states are now 5,448 cases ahead of the combined federal figure, against 4,024 yesterday. Some of that widening is the calendar. CDC publishes once a week, on Tuesdays, so the gap opens from Wednesday through Monday and closes every Tuesday when the federal count catches up, and anyone quoting the gap should say which day of the week they are standing on. The rest of it is Michigan, and that part will not close on Tuesday.

The thirteen states that publish a hospital figure now total 735 between them, after Michigan moved from 279 to 314. CDC’s national surveillance, updated August 11, reports 740 hospitalizations among its laboratory-confirmed cases. Those two numbers are now five apart. A floor assembled by hand from thirteen state health departments has landed within five of what the federal surveillance system counts from a different set of cases, which is either a coincidence or a sign that the bottom-up method works. The outbreak-specific federal figure is a different number again. It is 278, and Michigan by itself reports 314. Ohio is second at 172, and that number has a trajectory of its own: 28 Ohioans hospitalized as of July 2, 96 by July 17, 172 by early August. It is also the oldest figure in this total, because Ohio has not published a newer one, so read 735 as the conservative end. Thirty-seven states publish no hospital figure at all.

Where all fifty stand

The last column of this chart is that state’s entire 2025 total from CDC’s weekly notifiable-disease tables, which is a different series from the state figures beside it. It counts travel-associated cases and covers a full calendar year against a season still running. It is there for scale, not for arithmetic.

State2026 casesAs ofAll of 2025Lettuce
Michigan13,909Aug 1350Yes
Ohio4,900Aug 476Yes
Indiana1,893Aug 1027Yes
Missouri1,577Aug 9none reportedYes
Illinois995Aug 4301Yes
North Carolina906Aug 11300Yes
New York898Aug 10694Yes
Kansas748Aug 1229Yes
Kentucky620Jul 2945Yes
Oklahoma506Aug 1141Yes
Florida342Aug 1210Yes
West Virginia296Aug 118Yes
Arkansas252Aug 1013Yes
Iowa226Jul 3064Yes
Nebraska218Aug 651No
Wisconsin216Aug 565Yes
Texas198Aug 5512Yes
Virginia197Aug 10115Yes
Colorado150Jul 17205No
Massachusetts145Aug 574Yes
Alabama85Aug 319Yes
Pennsylvania82Jul 29not notifiableYes
Maryland69Jul 17123Yes
New Hampshire69Aug 47Yes
New Jersey46Jul 11180Yes
California41Jul 14not availableNo
Minnesota41Jul 17none reportedNo
Washington36Aug 7not availableNo
Connecticut35Jul 1741Yes
Maine27Aug 74No
Oregon23Jul 24not availableNo
Arizona19Jul 1749No
Georgia11Jul 17116Yes
Tennessee11Jul 1738Yes
Alaska5Jul 166No
Rhode Island4Jul 176No
Louisiana1Jul 1799Yes
Utah1Jul 1737No
Delawareno count published1No
Hawaiino count publishednot availableNo
Idahono count publishednot notifiableNo
Mississippino count publishednot notifiableYes
Montanano count published8No
Nevadano count publishednot notifiableNo
New Mexicono count published9No
North Dakotano count published4No
South Carolinano count published45Yes
South Dakotano count published3No
Vermontno count published3No
Wyomingno count published0No
All fifty states29,798  50

What the 2025 column shows

Michigan reported 50 cases in all of last year and has reported 13,909 this year, two hundred and seventy-eight times as many. Ohio reported 76 and is at 4,900, the sixty-four times figure its own health department has used. Indiana reported 27 and is at 1,893. Kansas reported 29 and is at 748. West Virginia reported 8 and is at 296. Arkansas reported 13 and is at 252. Kentucky reported 45 and is at 620.

The same column shows which states are not unusual, and that has to be said. Texas reported 512 cases in 2025 and is at 198 this year. Colorado reported 205 and is at 150. Louisiana reported 99 and has published a single-digit count. Maryland and New Jersey are both running below last year. New York reported 694 and is at 898, which is an increase, but not the kind Michigan and Ohio are having. Not every state on this chart is having an outbreak, and the chart should not be read as though they are.

Four states do not make cyclosporiasis notifiable at all, so no figure exists to compare: Pennsylvania, Idaho, Mississippi and Nevada. Twelve states have published no 2026 count. Two of those, Mississippi and South Carolina, received the recalled lettuce.

What this figure is, and what it is not

29,798 is a floor, not an estimate. It is the sum of what fifty health departments have published, on schedules running from weekly to never, with four states reporting only a range that I count at the bottom. Where a state publishes two series, I use the one this chart has always used: for Florida that is the since-May-1 figure of 342 rather than the calendar-year 352, and for New York the since-May-1 figure of 898 rather than 932. Ohio and Iowa and Kansas and Arkansas are calendar-year, because that is the series those states publish.

Two states publish enough detail to see inside their own number, and both show the same thing. Virginia reports 197 cases and breaks them down: 107 acquired in this country, 48 acquired abroad, 42 unknown or still pending. Roughly a quarter of the Virginia figure has nothing to do with lettuce from central Mexico. Florida is starker. Of its 342 cases, 201 were acquired in Florida, 31 in another state, 45 outside the country, and 65 have no known source at all. Under sixty percent of the Florida number was acquired in Florida.

Some version of that is true in every state on this chart, and forty-eight of them publish nothing that would let anyone check. A floor assembled from fifty different definitions is still worth having, because the alternative is waiting six weeks for a federal number that is itself an undercount. It is not worth mistaking for a case count.

Most people with cyclosporiasis never get a stool test, because the parasite is missed by the routine ova and parasite exam and has to be requested by name, and because people with a diarrheal illness that comes and goes for a month often never see a doctor. The standard estimate of that gap comes from Scallan and colleagues, Foodborne Illness Acquired in the United States, Major Pathogens, in Emerging Infectious Diseases in 2011, which puts the underdiagnosis multiplier for Cyclospora at 83.1. Applied to CDC’s 13,895 laboratory-confirmed cases, that puts the real number near 1,155,000.

What to expect

This chart will cross 30,000 within days. It stands 202 short tonight, and West Virginia posts Friday, Missouri Sunday, Arkansas and Virginia Monday, CDC and North Carolina and Oklahoma Tuesday, Kansas and New York next Wednesday. Ohio is weekly and overdue, last published at 4,900 on August 4. Indiana updates on weekdays and was near 1,900 earlier this week. Any two of those get it there.

Two things will keep it climbing after the illnesses stop. CDC estimates a six-week lag between the day someone gets sick and the day the case reaches it, so August onsets will still be arriving in the middle of September. And the confirmed and unconfirmed pools are still sorting themselves out: on Tuesday the confirmed count rose by 3,427 while the pool awaiting investigation fell by roughly 1,800, which was mostly laboratory confirmation catching up with cases already counted rather than new illness. Expect more of that, and expect it to be reported as a surge.

The season closes on August 31, eighteen days from today. The counting does not.

Yesterday the Safe Food Coalition sent a letter to Senate Majority Leader John Thune, Senate Minority Leader Charles Schumer, Speaker Mike Johnson and House Minority Leader Hakeem Jeffries. Eleven organizations signed it. They ask for one thing: rescind the appropriations rider Congress passed last November that bars the Food and Drug Administration from spending a dollar to administer or enforce its own food traceability rule before July 20, 2028. The Consumer Federation of America announced it the same afternoon. I am with them, and I want to say so with my name attached and every one of theirs spelled out.

Start with what the rider actually does, because the part that gets reported is the smaller part. FDA had already pushed the compliance date to July 2028 on its own, a year ago this month. A rider that only froze the money would have been redundant. Section 780 goes further. It directs the agency to identify and implement additional flexibilities for satisfying the rule’s lot-level tracking requirement, and to hand industry recommendations for those flexibilities. Lot-level tracking is not a feature of the traceability rule. It is the rule. A lot code is the only thing in the whole system that distinguishes one shipment of iceberg from the next one off the same line. Take it out and what remains tells an investigator that a company received lettuce, which is a fact nobody was ever in doubt about.

The history is worth saying out loud, because it is long and almost nobody outside this world knows it. Congress passed the Food Safety Modernization Act in 2010 with bipartisan majorities and told FDA to propose recordkeeping requirements for high-risk foods no later than January 2013. FDA did not. The Center for Food Safety sued and won a federal consent decree that set the deadlines the agency then met: propose by September 2020, finalize by November 2022. The final rule set compliance for January 20, 2026. FDA moved that thirty months. Congress wrote the delay into a spending bill and told the agency to reconsider the centerpiece while it waited. Sixteen years from a statute to a rule to a maybe, and the clock has not stopped running.

Here is why that matters this month rather than in some abstract future. Add up what the state health departments have published themselves and the Cyclospora floor stood above 28,000 as of yesterday. FDA’s own outbreak page still says 6,358 cases across fifteen states and still carries an August 5 stamp, and Maine, which declared itself into this outbreak on August 7, is still not on the federal list six days later.

The coalition puts the traceability point where it belongs, on the recall, writing that Taylor Farms failed to give the public information the rule requires in its recall communications. I can be more specific than that, because I went and got FDA’s own file. Event 99453 covers 236,192 cases and it names the buyers: Walmart’s Marketside, Cross Valley Farms, Markon, Peak, Sysco, Subway, Jack in the Box, YUM and Taylor Farms itself. Somebody can say where the product went and how much of it there was. I did.

Look at what it took, though. That record ran three weeks behind the recall, sits in a search form nothing indexes, and had to be totalled by hand out of a spreadsheet. Four weeks on, as far as I can tell two people have written any of it down: Phyllis Entis at eFoodAlert, who got there the same weekend I did, and me. Alabama’s health department had published the consignee list on July 20, three weeks before FDA’s own file gave it up, and nobody picked that up either. The coverage that has appeared since describes a new FDA report. It is not new. It has been sitting in the recall database since the day of the recall. A document that is public and unfindable at the same time is not disclosure.

And the file ends at the first buyer. Markon is a purchasing cooperative whose members resell to independent operators who never see the Markon name. Sysco and US Foods are distributors. The file says YUM, not Taco Bell. Nobody outside those companies can say which case reached which kitchen on which day, and that is the question an outbreak investigator is actually asking. A recall notice tells you who bought it, weeks later, if somebody thinks to go looking. A traceability rule puts lot-level records in FDA’s hands in twenty-four hours. The alternative is what the country got in 2018, when FDA told every American to throw away romaine grown in an entire region because the agency could not narrow it further. FDA said so itself, in its own rulemaking, and the coalition quotes the agency back to Congress.

Look at who is actually opposed. The letter names FMI, the food retailers’ association, and that is a narrow opposition to be carrying a provision this consequential. The International Fresh Produce Association, which speaks for the growers and which disagrees with me about nearly everything else this summer, put itself on the record against continued delays and has spent July and August asking for end-to-end traceability. Taylor Farms posts on its own outbreak hub that it fully supports and endorses food traceability legislation. Kroger, Albertsons and Walmart had already built programs to the rule and past it before FDA announced the delay, which means the rider does not spare industry a cost so much as it strands the part of industry that already paid.

That points at the argument in the letter I most want to underline, and it is not the one people expect from consumer groups. When an outbreak cannot be traced, the warning has to be broad, and a broad warning drives people away from fresh produce altogether. Growers in Salinas are plowing lettuce back into the groundrather than harvesting it, farmworkers are losing shifts, forty percent of consumers told a pollster they have changed what they buy, and carrots, cauliflower, spinach and Brussels sprouts had nothing whatever to do with this parasite and are selling worse anyway. The coalition says plainly that Americans are eating less real food as a result and calls that a public health disaster of its own. Traceability is the mechanism that lets a regulator name a lot number instead of a category. Anyone in Washington who genuinely wants this country eating more whole, fresh food ought to be the loudest voice in the building for lot codes. There is no version of a healthier American diet that runs through a system whose only available warning is to stop eating a vegetable.

Now the names, because they are the point of this post. The Center for Food Safety, without whose lawsuit there would be no traceability rule to delay in the first place. The Center for Science in the Public Interest. The Consumer Federation of America, which convenes this coalition and has been filing on this rule since 2024. Consumer Reports. Farm Forward. The Government Accountability Project. The George Washington University Institute for Food Safety and Nutrition Security. The National Consumers League, which has been doing this work since 1899. Stop Foodborne Illness, built by and for the families who end up inside these outbreaks, and the organization on this list whose people have the least to gain and have already paid the most. The United Food and Commercial Workers International Union, whose members cut, wash, pack and box the product. And U.S. PIRG.

Not one of those organizations has a client in this outbreak. Not one of them bills an hour for it. They wrote a page and a half and asked for the smallest thing anyone has asked Congress for all summer. Rescinding Section 780 requires no new appropriation, no new rulemaking, no new authority and nobody’s permission. It requires striking a paragraph that a narrow set of interests got written into a spending bill while the largest outbreak of this parasite ever recorded in the United States was already underway. People ask now and then why a plaintiffs’ lawyer spends his weekends on a recordkeeping rule. A lot code is a piece of paper that ends an outbreak in days instead of months, and the surest way to put me out of business is to make that paper exist. Eighteen days remain in the season this parasite has been riding. Two people are dead. Eleven organizations asked for it yesterday, and they are right.

The “do not swim” signs are back up at Sycamore Pool.

A year ago, four children who swam and waded in Chico’s Bidwell Park were in hospital beds. Three developed hemolytic uremic syndrome. Two spent fifteen days on dialysis and blood transfusions. CDC pulled E. coli O157:H7 out of the Sycamore Pool sediment, out of the Five-Mile Recreation Area, and out of the water at the Chico Creek Nature Center, sequenced it, and found it matched the strain in those children’s stool.

This week, the City of Chico told people to stay out of the water again after the highest bacteria counts of the summer. Six signs went up on the lifeguard stands. And here is the part that should stop everyone cold: the testing that produced those numbers cannot tell anyone whether the strain that hospitalized four children last summer is in the water right now.

North State Public Radio’s Claudia Brancart got the health department to say it plainly: the City’s routine sampling measures generic E. coli, not O157, and finding O157 takes a separate test. Butte County Public Health ran that separate testing for a while after the outbreak, stopped this year after several negative rounds, and does not plan to restart it because generic counts went up. So when parents ask the only question that matters — is the organism that put those kids on dialysis back in the creek? — the honest answer is that nobody knows right now.

The City says something similar in its own Sycamore Pool FAQ: its program and the County’s O157 testing have different goals, are not directly comparable, and should be read separately. That is true as far as it goes. It is also an answer to a question nobody in Chico is asking. The public does not want the two programs harmonized. It wants to know if O157 is in the pool.

You cannot find what you do not test for. I have spent this summer saying that about Cyclospora and a lettuce supply nobody samples. It is just as true in a concrete pool in a city park.

There is a second problem with the current program, and the 2025 record settles it. When CDC sampled Sycamore Pool on July 17, 2025, the two-liter water grab came back negative for O157. The sediment collected the same day came back positive

The published work on E. coli O157:H7 is consistent: the organism persists in sediment far longer than in the water above it, and sediments act as both sink and source. The complaint we filed for these four families walks through that literature and it alleges that in the summer of 2025, the City held no Fish and Game Code permit to remove sediment from the pool, so the sediment sat there while children swam in it and no cleaning happened until July 16-18, 2025, after every exposure at issue.

Now to this summer’s numbers, which deserve a closer look than they have gotten. The City publishes its results as a running table of upstream and downstream counts:  above 320 the City recommends avoiding contact. Coverage has focused on the single-sample spikes — 365 upstream on Monday, August 3, and a reported 517 on Wednesday, August 5. Two red days in one week is news. But single samples are not the only standard, and they are not the standard Chico has the most trouble with.

The Amended Monitoring and Reporting Program the Central Valley Water Board issued for Sycamore Pool, and the statewide REC-1 bacteria objectives behind it, require two things: no single sample above 320, and a six-week rolling geometric mean at or below 100, calculated weekly. That calculation does not appear on the results the City publishes.

Which brings us back to the complaint: in the summer of 2025 (as well as in the summer of 2024 and most summers from 2021-2023), the Big Chico Creek E. coli levels were  out of compliance with the geometric mean objective. 

That is precisely the failure alleged in the case now pending, where it was Butte County Public Health, not Chico, that ran the geometric mean and found the exceedances the City had not been computing. And look again at the City’s FAQ: the advisory bands are keyed to single samples only. The rolling geometric mean — the number the regulation also cares about — does not appear anywhere in what the public is shown.

Meanwhile, people are in the water. Action News Now found swimmers at the pool on a hundred-degree Wednesday who said they never saw the signs, including a mother who said she would have told her kids to keep their heads above water had she known before getting in. 

To Chico’s credit, the County reports no illnesses tied to the pool so far this year, and near-daily sampling this season beats last season’s weekly schedule. But more is needed: test for O157 specifically whenever a sample goes above 320, sample sediment and not only water, publish the rolling geometric mean alongside the daily counts so the public can see the trend the regulation is built around, and give people notice they cannot miss on a triple-digit afternoon.

Sycamore Pool is a hundred years old and it is loved, and none of this is an argument for filling it with concrete. It is an argument that a city operating a creek-fed swimming hole for thousands of people owes them a monitoring program capable of detecting the organism that hospitalized four of their children.

Disclosure: Marler Clark, with Trevor Quirk of the Quirk Law Firm, represents the four Chico-area families whose children were hospitalized after recreating at Bidwell Park in 2025. Their complaint against the City of Chico is pending in Butte County Superior Court. The City disputes the allegations, and its interim city manager has said it cannot comment on active litigation. Statements about 2025 above reflect the allegations of that complaint and the public and produced records cited in it. Nothing here asserts that O157 is present in Big Chico Creek today — the point is that no one is testing for it.