Obama Family’s Sad Announcement | Thinknews
Marian Robinson, mother of former First Lady Michelle Obama, has died at age 86, the family announced Friday. She passed away peacefully in the morning, according to a statement.
Former President Barack Obama also honored his mother-in-law online, calling her one-of-a-kind. “We feel lucky to have had her in our lives,” he posted. “We’ll spend our years trying to live by her example.” Born Marian Shields in 1937, she married Fraser Robinson III, a Chicago water department worker and WWII veteran. The couple raised Michelle and her brother Craig in a modest South Side home.watch below
Patel: Probe Into Trump, GOP Lawmakers Over Jan. 6 Weak On EvidenceThe FBI memo that initiated the Biden-era Arctic Frost investigation into President Donald Trump and hundreds of his allies over their activities related to January 6 lacked substantial evidence and clear legal justification, according to several former prosecutors and FBI agents who reviewed the newly released document and identified multiple deficiencies.
The investigation, code-named Arctic Frost, was initially led by an FBI supervisor who had expressed anti-Trump sentiments and was later taken over by Special Counsel Jack Smith.
The probe treated the effort by Trump’s allies to submit alternate electors to Congress during the 2020 election certification as a potential criminal conspiracy — despite similar actions in two prior instances of U.S. history not resulting in prosecution, Just the News reported.
According to the newly released materials, the FBI memo that launched the investigation in spring 2022 — around the same time Trump announced his bid for the presidency — relied heavily on interview clips from CNN as primary evidence “suggesting” Trump’s involvement in the alleged conspiracy, the outlet added.
House Judiciary Committee Chairman Jim Jordan said Wednesday that he believes the FBI memo authorizing the Arctic Frost investigation was legally flawed and reflected the same politicization and investigative overreach seen in the 2016 Russia collusion probe, code-named “Crossfire Hurricane.”
Jordan obtained the document from current FBI Director Kash Patel and told Just the News that both investigations targeted Trump based on weak evidence and partisan motives before ultimately being discredited.
“Sure looks that way. … and it looks like this was just the same old weaponization, same old political focus, focus on politics, going after your political enemies,” Jordan said during a wide-ranging interview on the Just the News, No Noise TV show.
“Same mindset that said we’re going to put the dossier in the intelligence community assessment, even though we know the dossier is garbage, we know there’s no underlying intelligence support,” he continued.
“That same mindset that was there in 2016 is the mindset we see now in 2022 with Arctic Frost, and then as it transformed into Jack Smith, special counsel, later in 2022—same mindset. So yeah, that’s what it sure looks like,” he added.
Smith has denied any wrongdoing and said he intends to present his side of the story. Jordan has invited Smith to testify before the committee, warning that he will issue a subpoena if Smith declines to appear voluntarily.
Documents released in recent weeks by Patel indicate that the Arctic Frost investigation was approved at the highest levels of the Biden administration, including by Attorney General Merrick Garland, Deputy Attorney General Lisa Monaco, and FBI Director Christopher Wray, with assistance from a lawyer in the White House.
The inquiry centered on efforts by Republican officials in several states to submit alternate slates of electors ahead of Congress’s certification of the 2020 presidential election on January 6, 2021.
The probe was later transferred from the FBI to Smith’s office, which issued subpoenas to hundreds of Trump allies.
Senate Judiciary Committee Chairman Chuck Grassley (R-Iowa) on Wednesday released 197 subpoenas that Smith and his Justice Department team issued “as part of the indiscriminate election case against President Trump,” identifying more than 400 Republican groups and individuals whose information was sought.
Separately, the House Judiciary Committee disclosed that more than 160 Republicans — including many closely tied to Trump — were flagged for possible investigation under the Arctic Frost operation.
The opening electronic communication (EC) that launched what became a broad investigation into Trump associates was written and approved in April 2022 under the title “Requests Opening of New Investigation – Arctic Frost.”
The probe, designated as a “Sensitive Investigative Matter” (SIM), was authorized by then–Assistant Special Agent in Charge Timothy Thibault — who later left the FBI after his anti-Trump social media posts came to light — along with other senior bureau officials, including Steve D’Antuono, then the Assistant Director in Charge of the FBI’s Washington Field Office, and Paul Abbate, who was serving as the FBI’s Deputy Director at the time
“The billionaire’s son was dying inside his own mansion while doctors remained helpless — I was just a housemaid, but I uncovered a toxic secret hidden behind the wall of his room.”
“The billionaire’s son was dying inside his own mansion while doctors remained helpless — I was just a housemaid, but I uncovered a toxic secret hidden behind the wall of his room.”
The gates of Lowell Ridge didn’t just open—they groaned, as if something ancient had been disturbed. To the outside world, the estate in Westchester, New York, was a symbol of power and wealth. To me, Brianna Flores, it was about survival—a paycheck that kept my younger brother in college and the creditors away.
I had been the head housemaid for four months. Long enough to learn the true rhythm of the house: silence.
Not peaceful silence, but the kind that presses into your ears until you stop breathing without realizing it.
The owner, Zachary Lowell, a billionaire and software founder, was rarely seen. And when he was, his eyes were always fixed on the second floor—the east wing.
Oliver Lowell, his eight-year-old son.
Or rather… the boy who was slowly fading away.
The staff whispered when they thought no one was listening: autoimmune disease, rare neurological disorder. Some said it was the end. Others claimed the best children’s hospitals in the country had already done everything they could.
But I only knew one thing: every morning, at exactly 6:10 a.m., I heard coughing from behind the silk-paneled door of Oliver’s room.
Not a child’s cough.
A deep, wet, painful sound… like lungs fighting something invisible.
That Tuesday morning, I pushed my cart inside.
The room looked like it came straight out of a design magazine. Velvet curtains drawn. Silk-lined soundproof walls. A silent climate control system.
And at the center… Oliver.
Small. Too small for his age. Pale skin, dark circles, an oxygen tube beneath his nose.
Zachary stood beside the bed, gripping the edge so tightly his knuckles had turned white.
“Good morning,” he said softly.
Oliver gave a faint, charming smile. “Hi, Miss Bri.”
My chest tightened.
“He didn’t sleep,” Zachary muttered. “Again.”
The air in the room felt wrong. Heavy. A metallic taste scratched at my throat.
I had smelled that before.
But never in a billionaire’s mansion.
I grew up in a Bronx apartment with leaking ceilings and sick walls. You learn quickly how to recognize danger by smell.
That afternoon, while Oliver was taken to the hospital for more tests, I went back to his room.
I knew I was crossing a line.
But I couldn’t forget that smell.
Behind the custom wardrobe, hidden by silk panels, I pressed my hand against the wall.
It was damp.
Cold.
My fingers came away black…
WHAT I FOUND BEHIND THAT WALL MADE MY BLOOD RUN COLD.
For a second, I just stood there, staring at my hand.
Black dust clung to my fingers, thick and oily, like something that had been growing for a long time… unseen.
My stomach dropped.
“No way…” I whispered.
I looked back at the wall. The silk paneling hid it perfectly—too perfectly. This wasn’t just decoration. It was covering something.
Something bad.
Heart pounding, I pulled the panel aside just enough to peek behind it.
And froze.
The wall wasn’t just damp—it was alive.
Dark, spreading patches crawled across the surface like veins. Black mold. Thick. Deep. Breathing in the shadows. The kind I remembered from my childhood… the kind that made people sick.
The kind that didn’t just stay on walls.
It got into the air.
Into your lungs.
Into your blood.
Suddenly, Oliver’s cough echoed in my head.
Deep. Wet. Painful.
Not invisible at all.
My chest tightened as panic rose in my throat.
“Oh my God…”
Footsteps.
I jumped, quickly dropping the panel back into place, wiping my hands on my apron. My heart was racing so hard I thought it might give me away.
One of the security staff passed by the door, barely glancing in.
I forced myself to breathe.
Think.
If I was right… then Oliver wasn’t dying from some rare disease.
He was being poisoned.
Slowly.
Every single day.
That evening, when they brought him back from the hospital, he looked worse.
Pal er. Weaker. His small body sinking into the bed like it didn’t have the strength to hold itself up anymore.
Zachary stood beside him again, just like before—but now I saw something different.
Not just fear.
Guilt.
“Miss Bri…” Oliver whispered when he saw me. “Can you… stay a little?”
My throat tightened.
“Of course,” I said softly, walking closer.
He smiled faintly, then started coughing again—harder this time. His whole body shook with it.
And I knew.
I couldn’t stay silent.
Not this time.
Later that night, I found Zachary alone in the hallway.
“Mr. Lowell,” I said, my voice steady but low. “We need to talk.”
He looked exhausted. Hollow.
“What is it?”
I hesitated for just a second… then said it.
“It’s not a disease.”
His expression changed instantly.
“What?”
I stepped closer.
“It’s the room. The walls. There’s something behind them—something toxic. I’ve seen it before. Mold. Dangerous mold.”
He stared at me like I had just said something impossible.
“That’s not—this house is inspected every year. It’s state-of-the-art—”
“Then check it again,” I cut in, firmer now. “Because your son is breathing it in every day.”
Silence.
Heavy. Sharp.
His jaw tightened.
“Do you understand what you’re accusing?” he said quietly.
“Yes,” I replied. “I do.”
Another pause.
Then something shifted.
Because deep down…
He already knew something wasn’t right.
By midnight, specialists were back—but not doctors this time.
Environmental inspectors.
They tore into the wall behind the silk panels.
And within minutes… the truth came out.
The mold had spread far beyond what anyone imagined. Hidden behind luxury. Trapped inside sealed walls. Circulating through the very air Oliver breathed.
Toxic.
Severe.
Deadly over time.
One of the inspectors turned to Zachary, his face grim.
“If he stayed in that room much longer…” he said quietly, “he wouldn’t have made it.”
Zachary staggered back, as if the words had physically hit him.
And for the first time…
The most powerful man in the room looked completely powerless.
Oliver was moved out that night.
Within days, his breathing began to improve.
Within weeks… the coughing started to fade.
And one afternoon, as sunlight filled a new, simple hospital room—
He smiled again.
A real one.
“Miss Bri,” he said softly, holding my hand, “it doesn’t hurt anymore.”
I swallowed hard, blinking back tears.
“Good,” I whispered.
Because sometimes…
