Empty pews and fear of ICE on Maryland’s Eastern Shore after TPS ends for Haitians

SALISBURY, Md. (AP) — These are harrowing days for the Word of Life Center, a church that has long been a vibrant hub of the Haitian community on Maryland’s Eastern Shore.

A bridal shower and yard-sale barbeque were canceled. So were English-language classes. Roosevelt Toussaint, the senior pastor of the nondenominational congregation in Salisbury, said attendance at Sunday’s service dropped by more than half. Normally, more than 500 people would have heard his sermon, titled “What to do in a time of crisis.”

The reason for empty seats, Toussaint said, is that many community members are unwilling to venture from their homes, fearing arrests and deportation since the Trump administration moved to end Temporary Protected Status for more than 1 million people from numerous countries. Among those affected: roughly 350,000 Haitians who have been living and working legally in the U.S. for years.

In Salisbury, the Eastern Shore's biggest city, about 10% of the 33,000 residents are Haitian, many of them employed under TPS as farmworkers, caregivers and in the poultry plants that are the region’s economic backbone.

Like other Haitians losing TPS, they face an agonizing choice: try to stay in the U.S. and find underground work, constantly fearful of being caught by Immigration and Customs Enforcement agents. Or return to a nation so overwhelmed by gang violence and poverty that some feel deportation is tantamount to a death sentence.

Toussaint, the Word of Life Center's pastor since 1995, said he had a message for President Donald Trump.

“We’re expecting you to have compassion for our people. They haven't done anything wrong,” Toussaint said. “All they came to this country to do is to work, to make a difference in our economy. … There’s no security at home. If you really send us over there, you send us to die.”

At Sunday's service, the first since TPS protections expired, Toussaint exhorted his congregants to persevere.

“I’m praying this afternoon that God can make you invisible to the enemy,” Toussaint told them in Haitian Creole. “They put a lot of terror in your heart. But God has come to tell you: Do not be afraid!”

Some of the congregants who are U.S. citizens said they attended the service in solidarity with those losing TPS. Among them was Marjorie Estimé, who wore a Haitian flag draped around her neck.

“I want to tell the president of the United States to stop the ICE program, so that the people can work, so ICE can stop shooting them, persecuting them, and we can go back to normal,” Estimé said of the administration's crackdown on immigration.

ICE has pressed ahead, according to advocates and attorneys who say the agency is calling Haitians in for ankle bracelets and telling them not to travel more than 75 miles (121 kilometers) from their home address.

“Instead of them heavily descending on communities, they are using tactics to bring those people into their offices to either detain them or fit them with an ankle monitor, and telling them that if they don’t self-deport, they will be called back to report within a month,” said Guerline Jozef, president of the Haitian Bridge Alliance.

The TPS termination affecting Haitians was challenged in district courts. On June 25, the U.S. Supreme Court  sided with the government, allowing TPS to end and triggering weeks of confusion around enforcement timelines.

On July 27, the work permits were not extended and fear mounted in communities — not only due to the loss of jobs but also because it exposed them to deportation.

“It’s just like a hurricane at Category 5 — that’s how bad it is,” said Samson Orneus, a member of Toussaint's church. He helps the pastor lead the local Haitian Development Center of Delmarva and runs WOLC Immigration Services, an immigrant assistance business in Salisbury.

Throughout last week, news spread on social media about arrests by immigration authorities at gas stations and outside supermarkets.

“We had a population living legally, raising their kids, paying their bills, and with the decision (to end TPS), they were left in limbo,” said Marie D. Fouché, founder and executive director of Safe Harbor Circles. It provides support to immigrant communities across the Eastern Shore and recorded more than a dozen arrests of immigrants recently, including some with TPS.

“They have left their kids at home,” she said. “They went to the grocery, shopping at Walmart to cook for them and feed their family. But they got arrested in the parking lot, and they’ll never go back.”

Asked about ICE enforcement activities in Salisbury, the Department of Homeland Security said via email that it “does not discuss ongoing or future operations.”

“Temporary Protected Status is exactly that — temporary,” the email said. “For too long, TPS has been allowed to function as a de facto amnesty program despite Congress never intending it to be permanent.”

At a nearly empty barber shop in Salisbury, a Haitian with TPS ventured in for a haircut. Like others, he asked to remain anonymous for fear of deportation.

“They’re not going after the people committing crimes,” said the 39-year-old man, who has been a caregiver at a nursing home since moving to Salisbury in 2020. “When I go out to the street, I’m in fear.”

The United States initially gave TPS to Haitians following a devastating 2010 earthquake and extended it several times since.

The Trump administration pushed to end that status, saying conditions in Haiti improved. Yet almost 1.5 million people have been  displaced because of gang violence, and most Haitians need humanitarian aid.

“What this administration is doing hurts me so much because it’s inhumane,” said Leila Borrero Krouse, an immigration specialist with CATA, a nonprofit supporting Eastern Shore farmworkers.

“In all of these years that I’ve been working with immigrants, I’ve never met a criminal, a rapist, an abuser,” she said. “Most come to take jobs that others don’t want. And it’s heartbreaking to see how they’re suffering.”

The immigration crackdown has upended the life of Patricia Grace Louis-Jacques, a nursing student at Salisbury University with family members and friends affected by the end of TPS. Last week, her best friend asked her to take care of her infant child if she got detained.

“From that moment, I knew things got bad,” Louis-Jacques said at a nearly empty Caribbean Creole Cafe under a painting of Toussaint L’Ouverture, a leader of the Haitian Revolution. “Their lives have tremendously changed.”

Not far from the church, near a Perdue Farms poultry plant, a Honduran woman spoke from the home she has rarely left since the Trump administration ended TPS for nearly 80,000 Hondurans and Nicaraguans.

She said she worked at Perdue for more than two decades, repetitively cutting chickens with scissors on a fast-paced line, before losing her job last year after her TPS expired.

Her 25-year-old son, who was born in the U.S., worries that she will be detained. He often calls, reminding her to keep her living room curtains closed and avoid answering the door. Sometimes, she said, she hides by locking herself in a bathroom, where she keeps a Bible.

She used to attend church and volunteer at events advocating for immigrants' rights. These days, she only takes her two dogs to the yard and then returns indoors.

“It’s terrible to live in this anxiety,” she said. “It isn’t fair to those of us who came to this country not to cause harm, but to try to have a better life.”

Associated Press writer Gisela Salomon in Miami contributed to this report.

Associated Press religion coverage receives support through the AP’s collaboration with The Conversation US, with funding from Lilly Endowment Inc. The AP is solely responsible for this content.

A Honduran woman poses for a portrait outside the Perdue Farms poultry plant, where she worked for more than two decades before losing her job the previous year after her TPS expired in Salisbury, Md., Saturday, Aug. 1, 2026. (AP Photo/Luis Andres Henao)

Marjorie Estimé waits for a food order at the Caribbean Creole Café in Salisbury, Md., Sunday, Aug. 2, 2026. (AP Photo/Luis Andres Henao)

Children walk the aisles of the Word of Life Center church carrying snacks during a service in Salisbury, Md. Sunday, Aug. 2, 2026. (AP Photo/Luis Andres Henao)

Roosevelt Toussaint, the senior pastor of the Word of Life Center church, delivers his sermon titled "What to do in a time of crisis?" at a service in Salisbury, Md., Sunday, Aug. 2, 2026. (AP Photo/Luis Andres Henao)

Marjorie Estimé prays wearing a Haitian flag during a service at the Word of Life Center church in Salisbury, Md., Sunday, Aug. 2, 2026. (AP Photo/Luis Andres Henao)

Rhonda Bracy cuts watermelons outside her home in Salisbury, Md., Saturday, Aug. 1, 2026. (AP Photo/Luis Andres Henao)

Roosevelt Toussaint, the senior pastor of the Word of Life Center church, delivers his sermon titled "What to do in a time of crisis?" at a service in Salisbury, Md., Sunday, Aug. 2, 2026. (AP Photo/Luis Andres Henao)

Members of the Word of Life Center, a church and hub of the Haitian community, sing and pray during a service in Salisbury, Md., Sunday, Aug. 2, 2026. (AP Photo/Luis Andres Henao)

Leila Borrero Krouse, an immigration specialist with CATA, a nonprofit supporting farmworkers throughout the Eastern Shore, points to a U.S. map in her office to explain how many migrants come to the region to work as farmworkers, caregivers and in the poultry plants, in Salisbury, Md., Saturday, Aug. 1, 2026. (AP Photo/Luis Andres Henao)

Roosevelt Toussaint, the senior pastor of the Word of Life Center church, points to empty parking spaces outside his church before a service, which he says is due to fear in the Haitian community of possible arrests and deportation in Salisbury, Md., Sunday, Aug. 2, 2026. (AP Photo/Luis Andres Henao)

Patricia Grace Louis-Jacques, a nursing student who has close Haitian family members and friends affected by the end of TPS, poses for a photo outside the Caribbean Creole Café in Salisbury, Md., Sunday, Aug. 2, 2026. (AP Photo/Luis Andres Henao)

NEW YORK (AP) — Matt Walker couldn’t pet a dog without sneezing — until he and other scientists used a gene editing technique to produce a hypoallergenic beagle named Bailey.

Now, he can feed Bailey spoons of peanut butter while she lies on his lap and play fetch with her in Central Park. His allergies didn't go away: Bailey's saliva and hair no longer contain a key allergy-causing protein.

“The feeling right now is sort of a mix of relief and awe and gratitude that it worked,” said Walker, a geneticist. His company, Kindred Companion Sciences, created Bailey and her twin Alfie using a Nobel Prize-winning technique called CRISPR.

It'll take years before the millions who suffer from dog-related allergies can walk into a pet store and buy a pooch like Alfie or Bailey.

Scientists have to monitor the long-term health effects of the genetic tweak, and find ways to commercialize the approach to make it affordable. And experts not involved with the effort say it could hurt shelter and rescue animals waiting to be adopted.

“It opens the door to a lot more people being able to own pets. On the negative side, it may discourage people from trying to use strays and unwanted animals that are not engineered to be allergy-free,” said bioethicist Arthur Caplan with New York University's Grossman School of Medicine.

Researchers have tried to create hypoallergenic pets before, mostly using cloning. But this led to sicker pups that were too genetically similar. Two years ago, researchers used CRISPR to reduce levels of an allergy-causing protein in a cat named Alsik. But it's not yet clear whether this technique is safe to be tested on other cats.

Dogs that shed less, like poodles, are often thought of as hypoallergenic. But these pups still produce allergy-causing proteins that end up in their saliva, hair and dander, so they can still make people sniffly.

To create Alfie and Bailey, scientists started in the lab. They edited the genetic code inside dog skin cells, switching off the main gene responsible for producing allergy-causing proteins. Then they transferred the edited genetic code into eggs that went into a beagle surrogate that gave birth to two healthy female pups in September 2024. Scientists tested their saliva and fur and didn’t find signs of the allergy-causing protein.

They also performed an allergy test, pricking Walker's skin with extracts from Alfie and Bailey's saliva and dander. His skin reacted to samples from a poodle and goldendoodle, but not from the beagles.

The research, published Wednesday in the CRISPR Journal, is the first time such an approach has been tried successfully in dogs.

Walker says all dogs have the same allergy-causing gene that was edited in Alfie and Bailey. Kindred Companion Sciences hopes to test the technique on other dogs and service animals to see if they can breed an allergy-free line of pups beyond beagles.

Future research should test the gene-edited hypoallergenic dogs on more people with pet allergies to be sure they can soothe symptoms across a broader swath of the human population, said Dr. Jeff SoRelle, a pathologist at University of Texas Southwestern Medical Center.

Since the switched-off gene is the main — but not the only — allergy-causing culprit in dogs that was tested, “we don't exactly know just how effective or broadly useful this could be for stopping dog allergy in humans,” said SoRelle, who had no role in the study.

Bailey lives with Walker in New York, and Alfie lives in Florida with another Kindred scientist. The edit made to their genes is rare but does occur naturally in some dogs, so Walker said it's unlikely to have any negative effects on the pups. But it will still be important to monitor them at routine vet visits and make sure they stay healthy.

Walker has had Bailey for a little over a year and says she's become a member of the family.

Despite being a lifelong dog lover, his allergies kept him away from pups growing up. Even breeds that were supposed to be more hypoallergenic, like his family's goldendoodle, gave him itchy eyes and painful rashes.

But he and Bailey can play tug-of-war together in his living room, and she snuggles at his feet to comfort him when he’s sick.

“It feels just amazing to get to have a dog,” Walker said.

The Associated Press Health and Science Department receives support from the Howard Hughes Medical Institute’s Department of Science Education and the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation. The AP is solely responsible for all content.

Bailey, a gene-edited hypoallergenic beagle, poses for a photo in New York on Aug. 4, 2026. (AP Photo/Mary Conlon)

Matt and Maggie Walker pose for a photo with their gene-edited hypoallergenic beagle, Bailey, in New York on Aug. 4, 2026. (AP Photo/Mary Conlon)

Matt Walker sits at home with Bailey, his gene-edited hypoallergenic beagle, in New York on Aug. 4, 2026. (AP Photo/Mary Conlon)