
Amanda Coulson was a kid when she visited her family at a Little Rock, Arkansas doctor. One memory of Doris Coulson, a nurse, not left her child. Her mother was instantly racing along a patient’s sleep as a code orange was called.
Decades later, Amanda Coulson claimed in court that she jumped into the middle of the bed and was performing CPR in the mattress as it flew down the hallway. She didn’t enjoy all day at work, I realized.
Her mother was the kind of caregiver she was: one who understood what superior treatment meant because she had spent her life entrusting it to others.
She later moved to a nursing home owned by Joseph Schwartz, a business from New Jersey, who was acquiring care homes across the nation. She died because the staff didn’t get to serve her solid foods, but they did. Physicians informed the family that they discovered scrambled eggs in her breathing.
President Donald Trump pardoned Schwartz in a federal court case involving his admission to withholding$ 39 million in employee payroll taxes from his nursing home kingdom and using the money for other reasons nine years after his death. His activities, according to Schwartz’s attorneys, were intended to keep his business rather than his personal interests. According to the White House, Schwartz was” an example of over trial” and that a third-party organization had overseen the tax filings and that serving his three-year prison sentence would have been harmful to people his age and poor health.
A family- and lawsuit-getting company that allegedly neglected, injured, and murdered people behind the tax cost.
The Coulson community brought wrongful death claims against Schwartz and his business. Schwartz did not show up in court to raise a legal issue. A judge gave Amanda Coulson, her sister, and sibling almost$ 19 million six years ago. ( He later claimed that he never received important files and that the issue was mistaken for a similar lawsuit that was first filed in 2017 ). He claimed that the homeowner was the rightful owner. Schwartz previously made a payment. Since then, Amanda has passed away.

Pardon stories are frequently confused with those about national power, or who received mercy, access, or persuaded a president to act. People like Doris Coulson and her family, whose life had already been shattered before the White House celebrated Schwartz’s first Shabbat with his home after Trump freed him from prison and a senior Justice Department official declared him “free to repair” were what attracted me to Schwartz’s pardon.
The pardon for Schwartz was granted while I was covering Trump’s wider mercy rampage, which has favored friends, donors, and another well-connected defendants, including those who have been found guilty of serious financial scams.
This reprimand came across as unique to me.
I looked to court documents to know the people toll. In states where Schwartz owned nursing homes, I discovered gruesome records of individuals who were suffering and officials who were desperately trying to protect them as difficulties piled up.
As the buildings crumbled, some people claimed they were purchasing food for residents from their own pockets. After plan premiums were taken from their paychecks, other people were left with medical bills, but the coverage was not paid.
Schwartz does, however, also appear to have money, or perhaps substantial amounts. He had paid more than$ 1 million to lobbyists to help secure his pardon, according to disclosure forms that were obtained. And even after his company failed, lawyers claimed he also had$ 58 million in assets, though none of them were named.
The White House has stated that the leader does not grant pardons to activists.
After receiving the pardon, Schwartz was also required to travel back to Arkansas in soon December to provide nine months in prison for defrauding the state’s Medicaid system.
I had the opportunity to converse with him when he returned. I was told by the prison system that I may just get in touch with him by email. I sent a letter to him asking for an interview by telephone, internet, or in person in the first week of January, noting that I may meet him from my Missouri home.
That same constrained glass, according to a Coulson family attorney, gave him the opportunity to do something more significant: subpoena Schwartz for a deposition and records that may help him find his assets and get him to pay judgments he had overreceived.
The glass for both of us nearly closed. In Arkansas, one of Schwartz’s activists had been hired to find his own comfort. The parole board let him go within three months.
My email was returned as being inaccessible. The attorney had no better fate finding him.
That season made the story more clearly understood. It initially appeared to be a disappointment in reporting. The more I studied it, the more I realized that the missed window was basically a reflection of the larger narrative. Even after years of litigation and legal judgments, Schwartz remained elusive to those seeking answers or responsibilities.
A device was in place to lessen his sentence. but nothing to assist the patients.
Read more
The first article on ProPublica: Trump Pardoned a Nursing Home Owner Who Owed Virtually$ 9 Million to a Grieving Family.




