Mukta Joshi is an investigative reporter at Mississippi Today. She is spending a year as a New York Times Local Investigations fellow examining immigration and criminal justice issues. She can be reached at mukta.joshi@nytimes.com.

The number of detainees at Mississippi’s Adams County Correctional Center appears to have nosedived in the past few weeks, leaving several housing units vacant and prompting rumors that the facility was closing, according to many of the people being held there.

But a spokesperson for U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement, Angelina Vicknair, said this week that the detention center outside Natchez will remain open. In a written statement, she said daily operations continue as normal and that population changes are routine. ICE officials declined to provide the number of people booked in and out in April, the current population of the facility or the number of units currently occupied. 

The Adams County facility first caught my attention because it was the second-largest ICE detention center in the country. On April 2, ICE reported that about 2,100 people were being held there, a number that has been more or less consistent over the past few years. In fact, it’s been on the higher end since the Trump administration began its crackdown on immigration.  

But Rep. Bennie Thompson, a Democrat from Mississippi, told me that, when he visited the center April 9, there were just 1,400 detainees. I had also been speaking to several detainees during this time who all told me that they had been moved out of their original units and consolidated into others. Their original units now lay completely empty, they said, and large groups of detainees were being processed out daily. 

A detainee whose friend works in the kitchen told me that they were required to prepare 1,247 meals on Tuesday – suggesting a drop of nearly 1,000 detainees in three weeks. 

The number of people booked into ICE detention nationally hasn’t gone down, and the number of deportations in this time period hasn’t increased to a level that would naturally explain such a drastic shift in Adams. The federal government’s continued effort to procure industrial warehouses to hold its increasing number of detainees also suggests the administration still expects to detain large numbers of immigrants, a move several lawmakers have opposed. 

Two members of the board of supervisors for Adams County, which is a party to the ICE contract involving the facility, said they hadn’t heard of any changes at Adams. The county administrator, Mitzi Conn, said she was unable to provide any insight because the facility was privately owned. 

On Monday, I filed a public records request with the Mississippi Department of Employment Security. Under federal labor law, an employer like CoreCivic, the private prison company that owns and operates the Adams County facility, would be required to submit a written notice if it intends to shut down and lay off its employees. A representative of the department said no such notices had been submitted. In the meantime, I have also been hearing that groups of detainees, albeit small, are still being booked in every day. 

As always, please contact me if you have tips or information on the Adams County Correctional Center. I’m continuing to report on it, but you can expect to see fewer stories from me moving forward, as I dig into some topics that will take longer to report. If there are any developments, I’ll be sure to post an update. 

Note to our readers: In addition to the population dip, if you know something about the detention center, if you know someone who works there or is detained there, or want me to find out something about it for readers, please get in touch.

I will not use your name or any part of your submission without contacting you first. If you prefer to get in touch with me anonymously, send me a message on Signal @mmj.2178. Or you can contact me via email at mukta.joshi@nytimes.com. 

Our mailing address is P.O. Box 12267, Jackson, MS 39236.

Mukta Joshi, an investigative reporter at Mississippi Today, is a New York Times Local Investigations fellow examining the ICE detention facility at Adams County Correctional Center. States Newsroom is partnering with Mississippi Today and The New York Times on this project. Mukta can be reached at mukta.joshi@nytimes.com. You can read the entire series here.

I first heard about Delvin Francisco Rodriguez four months ago when ICE published a notification about his death on its website. 

The agency shared only a few details.

According to the post, Rodriguez, 39, who was being held at the ICE detention center in Adams County, Mississippi, had died after a medical emergency landed him at Merit Health hospital in Natchez, in December. 

A second post two months later said that Rodriguez had tried to hang himself in the detention center. Staff members found him, tried to revive him and sent him to the hospital, the report said, but Rodriguez did not regain consciousness and his family agreed to remove him from life support about 10 days later.

At the time, that’s all we knew from official sources.

When I read ICE’s version of events, as sparse as they were, I didn’t have a specific reason to wonder if there was more to the story. Still, the unexpected deaths of people living in ICE custody were becoming a flashpoint.

When Rodriguez died, on Dec. 14, he was the fourth person in four days to die in ICE custody across the nation.

It was a grim year. ICE reported 33 in-custody deaths in 2025, making it the deadliest year for ICE detention centers since the agency was formed. Complaints of deplorable living conditions, spoiled food and medical neglect had been piling up.

The high rate of deaths has continued this year, with ICE reporting 15 more through early April. Several of the deaths have been ruled suicides. And last month, The Associated Press reported that guards in a Texas ICE facility had been overheard betting on which detainee would die by suicide next.

In light of all this, I started trying to learn more about what exactly happened to Rodriguez.

I knew that ICE was unlikely to share details beyond what it had already published on its website. In the five times I’ve reached out to its local spokesman, he has never answered my questions or provided a comment. Representatives for CoreCivic, a private prison operator that runs the Natchez facility, have been polite and responsive but not particularly informative. 

Regardless, I started working on a list of questions for ICE and CoreCivic. I knew Rodriguez had been arrested in September and held somewhere else before his transfer to Mississippi. Where had ICE held him, and what had happened there? Does ICE pass along details regarding the well-being of detainees when they change facilities? And if so, had it communicated any such information about Rodriguez to administrators at Adams?

In the meantime, I had been trying – unsuccessfully – to find Rodriguez’s family. But I had a breakthrough earlier this week when I came across a post about Rodriguez’s death that had been published in January by a nonprofit based in Colorado called Voces Unidas. I hadn’t seen this post before, and it raised some concerning questions from Rodriguez’s family about the circumstances surrounding his death. 

On Tuesday, I got in touch with Alex Sanchez, the president and chief executive of Voces Unidas. He explained how his organization had helped Rodriguez hire a lawyer for his immigration case, and how it was now trying to help Rodriguez’s family learn more about his death. 

Sanchez agreed to ask Rodriguez’s family if they would be willing to speak to me. He told me that they had been fearing retaliation and would want to remain anonymous. 

He also told me that there were several reasons Rodriguez’s family felt like ICE wasn’t telling the full story. 

He said Rodriguez had agreed to self-deport the same month he was arrested, in September 2025. Rodriguez had been in touch with his mother back in Nicaragua, making plans for his return – even asking her to buy clothing for him.

Up until the day before Rodriguez was taken to the hospital, he had been talking regularly to his sisters by phone. His biggest frustration had been that he was being detained indefinitely,  months after he had voluntarily agreed to leave the country. Rodriguez did not show any signs that he was going to harm himself, Sanchez said. 

Rodriguez had described his unit as one of the big ones, a large room where more than 100 people shared living space. But after his death, Sanchez said, Rodriguez’s family was told that he had been found hanging in a cell. They did not receive an explanation for why he was in a cell. By this point, multiple detainees I’d interviewed had told me that the individual cells in the Adams facility are used either to discipline detainees who break the rules or to quarantine sick detainees. 

Sanchez also recounted that Rodriguez’s family found his death suspicious because of a video conversation they’d had with the nurses who were taking care of Rodriguez in his final days at Merit Health in Natchez before he was finally removed from the ventilator. According to the family, the nurses said Rodriguez’s injuries seemed inconsistent with what ICE was telling them – that Rodriguez had hung himself with a sheet, Sanchez said. The nurses also noted that Rodriguez had an injury on his forehead that didn’t look like it could have come from hanging, Sanchez said.

On Wednesday, Brian Todd, a CoreCivic spokesman, responded to my questions with a written statement. I had asked specifically about where Rodriguez had been housed and where he was found, and for details of his mental well-being and security footage of the incident, but Todd didn’t answer any of those questions. 

He expressed sadness on behalf of the company and said Adams detainees had “daily access” to medical care, including mental health services. He noted that Rodriguez had been discovered around 4:15 p.m., which was new information. 

Nobody I reached out to at ICE has responded to the questions I emailed them earlier this week. But I have also filed a public records request with ICE asking for the report it is required to prepare after it reviews an in-custody death, Rodriguez’s detention history and footage of the incident. I’ll let you know how ICE responds. 

The email and statement from Brian Todd of CoreCivic regarding the death of Delvin Francisco Radriguez:

We are deeply saddened by the passing of any individual in our care, and we take each instance very seriously. The safety, health and well-being of the people entrusted to us is our top priority. 

As you previously reported, on December 4, 2025, at approximately 4:15 p.m., Adams County Correctional Center (ACCC) staff responded to a medical emergency involving an unresponsive detainee inside their living area. Staff immediately began lifesaving measures. EMS was called, and paramedics transported the individual by ambulance to a local hospital. Our partners at ICE were notified immediately.

On December 14, ACCC leadership was informed by the hospital that the detainee had passed away. As with all incidents of this nature, it has been thoroughly reviewed in accordance with established protocols and in coordination with our government partners.

We adhere to all applicable federal detention standards in our ICE-contracted facilities, including ACCC. These facilities are monitored very closely by our government partners, and they are required to undergo regular review and audit processes to ensure an appropriate standard of living and care for all detainees.

Solitary Confinement
Solitary confinement, whether as a term or in practice, does not exist in CoreCivic facilities. Restrictive housing is in place for various reasons, including medical and mental health observation and administrative or investigative purposes. Individuals in restrictive housing maintain full access to courts, visitation, mail, showers, meals, all medical facilities and recreation. We always strive to ensure detainees are cared for in the least restrictive environment necessary to maintain their safety and security, as well as that of the institution.

Medical and Mental Health Care
CoreCivic is committed to providing access to high-quality medical and mental health care for all residents. At ACCC, the onsite medical clinic is staffed by licensed health care professionals including physicians, nurse practitioners, psychiatrists, psychologists, mental health counselors and dentists who contractually meet the highest standards of care, as verified by multiple audits and inspections. All detainees have daily access to sign up for medical care, including mental health services. CoreCivic also ensures access to offsite care for residents by coordinating with staff, government partners, community physicians, hospitals and ambulatory care providers. In 2024 alone, there were over 800,000 onsite medical and mental health care encounters in CoreCivic facilities. All CoreCivic staff are trained in CPR and first aid.

Brian Todd
Manager, Public Affairs