The Iowa City Starbucks strike, which began in early December of 2025, ended on December 24 of 2025, making it the longest strike in the store’s history. While the store re-opened its doors following the strike, the workers are still fighting and encouraging consumer participation to ensure Starbucks meets their demands.

“We started a new campaign called Delete the App,” said Scheppmann, offering one way consumers can help support baristas. “So we’re asking people to delete the Starbucks app from their phone.”

By deleting the app, Starbucks customers affect the company’s revenue while not directly harming the workers.

There are plenty of other ways to support the strikes, too. The Starbucks Workers United website— which provides plenty of useful information on the strikes and how to get involved– encourages consumers to sign the “No Contract, No Coffee” pledge and boycott Starbucks until the workers’ demands are met.

Even though the practices causing the strikes remain, Starbucks workers maintain high morale. For one thing, workers know they have been noticed. With hundreds of stores closed for weeks (if not months), Starbucks cannot remain unaware of the situation.

Many of the strikes have also set records. The Iowa City strike lasted three weeks, making it the longest strike in the store’s history. For workers like Scheppmann, this record is a point of pride.

 “It feels good,” Scheppmann said. “My grandpa was a teamster, so he always had a healthy love for striking. I definitely feel that as well.”

And if there is no progress? Then the strikes will continue. But Scheppmann doesn’t worry about that– the community will support the striking baristas no matter what.

“The Union community in Iowa City is always down for a strike, whoever it is,” said Schepmann. “They’re always ready to support someone exercising their rights.”

The post Iowa City Starbucks Keeps Fighting Back with Open Doors appeared first on KRUI Radio.

My day started at North Hall, where me and two other students, Julia and Sierra, were primed for some university transport, provided by MSW Program Director Stephen Cummings and Assistant Professor Aynsley Scheffert. We depart at 8:20, and Julia, Sierra and I get cracking about our plans for the future. Aynsley was loading us with information on her life trajectory and tips for work after graduating as a social worker, and Stephen gave me the lowdown on his experience teaching overseas.

It was 10:20 when we arrived at the Iowa State Historical Society building, or museum, really. The hanging biplanes and enormous mammoth skeleton made it seem that way. The place is packed with students, some I recognized and most I did not. A desk is set for us to check-in, and as we go through we are set up with nametags. There I find Rigby, a good friend I’ve had a couple classes with.

After a half-hour wait and a good deal of chit-chat, we are all ushered into a big lecture room. The smell could only be described as a used litterbox. Many struggle to hold their laughter, especially me, as a speaker tries to pull up their email, with increasingly less success. It’s kind of sad that in a room full of social workers, no one gets up on stage to help, but it was too funny. At one point the app-store was pulled up… Anyways, Dana Wickwire Cheek takes the stage, the Northeast Branch Chair for NASW Iowa, alongside Peggy Trosper, the Southeast Branch Chair, and Denise Rathman, the Executive Director for both the NASW Iowa and NASW Kansas Chapters. We get a good lecture on proper communication with legislators, which in the way they described it seems more like gambling than fruitful communication.

Here comes Ross Wilburn, a social work alumni of the University of Iowa and House Representative for the Story County District, alongside Johnson County Representative Adam Zabner. They’re here to answer questions, and oh boy are there a lot of them. I question Zabner about the progress of Senate File 2293 regarding the abolishment of the Iowa City Historical Society Building, asking “Where are the court proceedings and decisions at, and when can we expect the day for voting,” and though he gives a very descriptive assessment of the bill and what his future plans are, I don’t actually get a direct answer to my question. Should have been an easy one, considering Zabner is on the board supporting the continued funding of the Iowa City location.

I make it out of the lecture hall with a mild headache, courtesy of the litterbox smell, and grab my lunch. From there we set off to the capitol.

Iowa’s capitol is a great reason to be proud of our state. It’s consistently voted the most beautiful state capitol building in the states, and for good reason. Its massive golden dome is reason enough, but getting inside reveals its true beauty. Giant pillars made of scagliola stretch towards the ceiling, with capitals decorated by golden white oak leaves. Enormous murals depict settlers making their way into the west, religious imagery, native plants, and esoteric symbols, such as the roman god Mercury. Inside the senate chamber are four enormous chandeliers, each highly geometrical yet still so intricate I find them hard to describe. The ceiling is covered in more murals depicting flowers and leaves, with a stained glass window at the center.

By 1:15, we’ve made our way into the Senate chamber to watch the debate. We find
good spots in the gallery, and wait for the debate to begin. Senate files 2263 and 2280 are first up for debate. One senator uses hypothetical scenarios to defend his point, which becomes a theme for this senator. This is evident in the next file, which is refuted by another senator with concrete questioning and reasoning, making a very good case against the bill, but then our first senator stands up and goes on a rampage. He’s smacking his desk and practically screaming. I get so annoyed I decide it better to go explore the capitol.

I find the capitol library, a breathtaking space with books going up four floors flanking the walls. Aynsley finds me there and encourages me to write a message to a senator, but I just want to get up another floor, so I find a spiral staircase and ask two girls taking, suggestive pictures, and ask if I can go up. I’m good to go, so I walk through a gate I don’t notice and make my way around the first floor. I notice that I have to pass through an office to continue, until I find a woman in the second office. She immediately chastizes me and escorts me down, along with the two girls.

I figure it’s a sign to fill out a message, but I’ve forgotten my clipboard with all my notes in the senate gallery. I pull out the fastest speedwalk I can manage and make the confusing there and back. I address mine to the senator with the concrete argument. I wait and wait, but I am not offered the chance to go speak with him, cut short possibly by my previous effort to retrieve the clipboard and more probably by the picture scheduled on the main staircase at 3:00.

Just like that, the day is over. We file back into the van and I have a good nap on the way back, reflecting on how amazed I was at the capitol building, and conversely disappointed with the conduct of the senate chamber.

The post First Person POV of NASW “Legislative Day on the Hill,” February 24, 2026 appeared first on KRUI Radio.

The proposal, being brought before lawmakers for the 2026 Legislative Session, calls for increasing the monthly 911 wireless surcharge from $1.00 to $1.15. While 15 cents might seem like pocket change, officials say it is the key to stabilizing a system that hasn’t seen a funding update since 2013.

“Costs have risen significantly for everything, yet 9-1-1 surcharges have not changed in over 10 years,” says Police Chief Chad McCluskey. This gap has left local emergency communication centers, Public Safety Access Points (PSAPs), that serve as the gateway for emergency services, struggling to keep up with modern technology and rising staffing costs.

Iowa isn’t alone in this struggle. Across the country, local governments are grappling with how to fund aging emergency infrastructure. In Colorado, Arapahoe County recently moved to increase its 911 surcharge to address similar shortfalls, while in Florida, the state’s Emergency Communications Board has faced intense pressure from counties to raise fees to cover the costs of regional dispatch centers.

Image via 2023 Iowa 911 annual report

In Iowa, the situation reached a boiling point after the 2025 Legislative Session. Lawmakers passed a provision allowing the state to charge local 911 boards for “reasonable costs” of statewide operations. Rather than helping, leaders say this has imposed “significant financial strain” and created a cloud of uncertainty for local budgets.

The 15-cent increase is designed to create a sustainable, transparent funding model that doesn’t rely on local property taxpayers to fill the gaps. “This increase is long overdue,” says Chris Collins, President of Iowa NENA. “Our surcharge proposal provides a sustainable, fiscally responsible solution that strengthens Iowa’s 911 system and supports Iowa’s first responders.”

The funds are slated for more than just keeping the lights on. A major portion of the push is centered on “Next Generation 911,” a massive technological upgrade that allows for better location accuracy and digital communication. Todd Malone, president of Iowa APCO, notes that the adjustment “allows us to improve lifesaving technology without using additional taxpayer dollars. Investing in 911 is investing in the safety of every Iowan.”

To prevent another decade of stagnation, the proposal also includes a 2 percent annual inflation adjustment starting in 2027. The goal is to ensure that funding keeps pace with the world around it without requiring a massive, jarring leap in fees down the road.

The post Iowa Public Safety Leaders Warn “9-1-1 Can’t Wait,” Push for First Surcharge Increase Since 2013 appeared first on KRUI Radio.

“These are my people,” he yells, arms outstretched. “This is my city!” 

Russell dons a black-and-red winter coat. He neatly tucks his oversized black work polo into his black company pants. The logo of his company, Block by Block, is stitched on the front of his jacket. The organization, hired in June of 2024 to manage Iowa City’s Downtown Ambassador Program, aims to keep the streets clean, welcoming, and safe. Russell is a big part of this program. Whenever he spots trash on the ground, it’s time to do his job. He bends down with a practiced grace, his left leg kicking back in that same slow rhythm it’s had ever since it started giving him trouble. People rush past without a second glance. They see him as little more than a garbage man. A barrier on their way to work, a smiling interference in their normal walk to class. They don’t know his rhythm once belonged somewhere else. Decades ago, the 49-year-old performed ballet on stages in Romania, Canada, and Switzerland. But the chaos of life’s winding path brought him to Iowa City. This cleaning cart. These streets. And a purpose those strangers could never imagine. 

When it was good, it was extraordinary.

Russell won major international recognition, including first place at the Erik Bruhn Competition in 1999 and a cover appearance in The Dance Current that same year. He trained at elite institutions like the Boston Ballet School and the National Ballet School of Canada, later dancing lead roles with world‑renowned companies. At five years old, Russell entered ballet because he wanted to fly like Superman. His childhood hero. And for years, he did just that, reaching the peak many dancers only imagine. But ballet demands perfection. And perfection demands endurance.

“You always want more,” said Eloy Barragan, professor of ballet at Iowa. “Sometimes, it’s a nightmare. And when you get injured? It’s Hell.”

Russell’s body began to break. A torn ACL. A cadaver knee. Double-digit sprained ankles that never healed. Two left shoulder surgeries—the nail in the coffin, as he puts it. Those are just the ones he remembers. Still, he couldn’t take a break.

“When you’re a dancer, you better shut up and take your Advil,” Russell said. “You’ve got a matinee tomorrow. You better get that review.”

So the performances continued. And the pace didn’t slow. At 22 years old, while dancing in Canada, he found a way to keep up. Russell was snorting two eight-balls of cocaine a day—roughly seven grams—while still dancing, still being cast, still winning. At first, he said, it was euphoric. The snowy seduction felt endless. But in using it over and over, he lost his passion for the art altogether. 

Russell remembers one day where he woke up to birds chirping outside his dormitory window in Canada. He had a beautiful woman lying beside him in bed. He used to dream of this moment. And yet he couldn’t help but hate the life he was living. 

“Fuck it,” he thought to himself. “I’m just going to overdose one day. Who cares?”

There’s a lot that goes into a name. Some carry history, others are simply chosen from baby-books. Jhe’s name was supposed to carry his father’s. John Henry Evans. Only Jhe didn’t really know his father. 

“I met him one time and he was a robot,” Russell said. “He was basically just child support.”

And after his father disowned him later in life, Jhe reclaimed it. Now, he says it stands for something else entirely: “Just hug everyone.”

Jhe strives to live out that statement. As he keeps on pushing his cart, he sees an old friend. 

“Whaddup J.D.!”

The two of them hug. 

“Whaddup Jhe,” he mumbles back.

J.D. is a large black homeless man, carrying a half-smoked cigarette in his right hand and a black trash bag full of belongings in his left. He’s wearing a gray Hawkeye wrestling hoodie, heavily stained tan pants, and neon orange and black shoes. Most people will avoid J.D. His schizophrenia and spells of erratic yelling normally force others to take a detour. Jhe doesn’t pass him. 

“I’ve been where he’s been,” Russell said. “It sucks to feel invisible.”

Right now, they’re both the opposite. They’re both present. And even as J.D. imaginatively rambles about his past lives as an NFL player and husband of a supermodel, Jhe listens. And smiles. This is what the job gives him.

“We’ve got to get on now,” Russell says. “Stay grateful brother!”

“Peace, Jhe.”

It was 2014, and Russell was about to perform for a legend. But he wasn’t dancing, he was speaking. He sat on a couch with his hero, 79-year-old Raven Wilkinson, widely recognized as the first African-American woman to dance with a major classical ballet company. Russell had tracked her down through Alonzo King, director of LINES Ballet. He had written a song for her, mailed it on a CD, and after hours on the phone, they finally arranged to meet.

Wilkinson had endured relentless racism in the Deep South. Crosses were burned in front of her, the KKK threatened her, and she was even urged to paint her face white before shows. She always refused. Russell had long admired her strength. But now, that strength looked different. Frail and shriveled by lung disease, she wheezed with every word. Yet she listened as Russell recited his poem. His voice shook with reverence as he spoke the lines he had written just for her.

“Hush little baby, don’t you cry, this little black bird is still gonna fly.”

Though written for Wilkinson, the line seemed two-sided, a reminder to Russell himself that he could still soar after years of struggle and trauma. And Wilkinson was a reminder that he could. She was no longer a dancer. Her own body was shutting down. That struggle felt painfully familiar. But Russell realized through their conversation that her worth wasn’t defined by applause or titles or perfection. Maybe his life didn’t have to be measured that way either.

Two years after their meeting, now retired from dance, Russell choreographed a tribute child ballet titled Birds of Light. Another ode to his hero. To Raven. The woman who made him appreciate life beyond the stage lights. 

“Because of her, I woke up,” Russell said. “When I saw Raven, I got a different kind of inspiration.”

Outside of work, Russell’s world is small. He doesn’t keep many people close. Mostly, it’s just him and one friend: Jenni Rose.

They met years ago at the New Pioneer Co-op, when Russell worked as a cashier. Rose, who also walks with a limp, noticed that Russell was allowed to sit on the job, something she wasn’t used to seeing in her own workplaces. When they finally started talking, the surprise turned into recognition. Both had lived in bodies that didn’t always cooperate. Both had spent years feeling out of place.

“We live in a world where we’re starving for connection,” Rose said. “Jhe helped me embrace what I had.”

Now, they walk together around College Green Park, matching limps and shared ease. A couple of years ago, they even taught dance lessons together, drawing crowds of nearly fifteen people. Proof that movement is still theirs, even if it looks different than it used to.

“I’m still dancing,” Russell said. “I’m just dancing a little differently now.”

He often passes along lessons like those, the ones he learned from Raven Wilkinson. Reminders that the body is just one part of who they are, and that the world’s narrow definitions shouldn’t shrink their creativity. 

“It’s rare to see people as free as he expresses himself in public,” Rose said. “You can tell when someone has lost their childlike wonder as an adult. But he still has it.”

And he displays that wonder everywhere he goes.

After the lunch break, which features a meat-free burrito from Estella’s and nonstop conversation with those behind the counter, Russell makes his way to the Downtown District office, the largest sponsor of Block by Block in Iowa City. A year and a half ago, the two companies joined forces, ensuring a clean and welcoming downtown atmosphere year-round. Russell wants to go in and thank them. 

He parks his cart outside, and walks through the double glass doors. He limps up the three speckled-gray steps, and into a small elevator. His pointer finger, which protrudes through a hole in his black wool glove, presses the button to floor two. 

There, Joe Reilly awaits. Reilly is the District’s director of operations, and runs into Russell frequently. 

“He is the most standout ambassador we have in this city,” Reilly said. “Everybody should get to know him.”

If you’re not quick enough, though, Russell gets to know you first. His smile, featuring a partially overlapping front tooth, is always plastered on his face. And while he works five days of eight long hours each, changing trash and scrubbing phallic graffiti art, Russell consistently makes time to welcome everybody with open arms. 

“If he could leave the cleaning part behind and just help the people, he would,” said Iowa City Block by Block Operations Manager Keyon Shelby. “We call him Mr. Hospitality.” 

None of this is glamorous work. Not the aching body, the puke pickup, or the $19 an hour that helps him get by. But he hardly discusses money at all. He laughs when it’s brought up. For Russell, there’s a purpose beyond the paycheck. 

“People often leave their high-paying jobs because they’re not being fed,” Reilly said. “Jhe is being fed here.”

The back sole of Russell’s left shoe is starting to wither. Black Nike Vapor Max sneakers, size 12, and well worn. Whenever he walks, that left foot swivels outward at a 45 degree angle, dragging through a small half-circle with each step. Sometimes his heel even skims the concrete, leaving a trail of scrapes on his sneakers. The motion repeats all day long, and not by choice. After torn ligaments and fused bones, his hip no longer rotates the way it should. Russell has learned to move around those limits, the same way he’s learned to move around so much of his past.

As he makes his way down a sloping sidewalk, he stops to pull over. Physically, that means guiding himself and his cart to the edge for a breather. Mentally, it’s a chance to pull his mind away from the pain, away from the rush of memories that flare with each twinge.

“When you’re broken nobody wants you,” Russell says, pulling from past trauma.

For the first time today, he isn’t smiling.

“I’m not just a body.”

A singular teardrop escapes Russell’s left eye, rolling down his cheek and tracing its way through the maze of his scruffy beard and skin tags. It glistens against his black skin. After keeping his eyes closed for so long, he normally sheds a tear or two when he lets the light back in. Not to worry, he says it’s normal. And it’s also spiritual. Before work starts each morning, outside his company’s office, he talks to the moon. Today, he’s rapping. 

“This is Block by Block, trash talk that talk,” Russell rhymes. “We make it clean everywhere that you walk.”

That’s just one line of an entire song lasting two minutes and 24 seconds. Russell wrote the whole thing by himself. Rap has always been a big part of his life, and seven months ago his company shared this specific one on their main social media pages, tagging it as their “song of the summer.” Russell is forever proud of it.

The black metal bench he’s sitting on is cold, the handles littered with peeling rust. Russell grips them as he rhymes. Amber-scented cologne, which he rolls on his neck and wrist, wafts through the morning air. His posture is pristine. This is Russell’s routine. And though it’s the same concept, the blueprint often changes. Sometimes he’ll be sitting outside a minute earlier. Sometimes he freestyles, sewing words together rhythmically from the depths of his brain. There’s no real structure. That’s why he enjoys it. 

In this moment, perfection doesn’t exist.

The cleaning cart feels heavier now, mounds of trash pile high in his “brute,” as the staff calls it. Russell wheels it around the corner, under a dimly-lit parking garage, and toward a cinderblock shed where other carts and cleaning supplies wait. Fresh blue towels, peroxide bottles, and cans of anti-graffiti spray line the shelves. Russell leans into the brute, organizing it for tomorrow.

“This is my least favorite part of the job,” he says.

It’s not because he has to clean again. He’s done that all day with ease. For eight hours, he’s been present, moving through the city that welcomes him. He’s fist-bumped the homeless, tipped his cap to young families, and smiled despite the shadows of his past. Even when others look down on his work, he doesn’t. This job gives him purpose.

No, what he struggles with is going home. Taking off the uniform and losing the feeling of a city superhero. Returning to who he was before the day began. Before he walked the streets that embraced him, a home he’s never quite had until now.

The post Dancing Differently appeared first on KRUI Radio.

While precise scheduling details are not publicly aggregated, the broader push is part of a statewide – and national – effort by Democrats to court younger voters. For example, the Democratic National Committee announced an approximately $500,000 campaign last year to boost early voting among college students in Iowa and other battleground states. The Johnson County Democrats are hoping to improve the relationship with UIowa students while reminding them how influential they can be in politics. 

Youth struggle to have their voices heard in the Democratic Party; some say it cost them the previous presidential election. This measure, taken by the Johnson County Democrats, is a steer in a new direction for the Democratic Party as a whole. In an attempt to truly listen to the youth, the group will continue on this listening tour. The research documented along the way will be relayed back to elected officials throughout the government. Common motifs during student feedback toward the Johnson County Democrats so far include:

1. Banning ICE from Iowa City
2. Enforce the frequently ignored recycling ordinance with city landlords
3. Protect trans and marginalized students in light of the threat to federal funding
4. Protect Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion initiatives
5. Develop a platform to address an evolving technological environment, including AI, privacy, copyright, and natural resource concerns

Meanwhile, at UI, the non-partisan student-led group Hawk the Vote (under the Leadership, Service & Civic Engagement office) has been working to register students, provide guides, and encourage ballots. Their resources note: “Your vote is your voice” and point out that students eligible to vote in Iowa City must decide whether to register locally in Iowa City or in their home jurisdiction. They offered information on how to research candidates, attend city hall meetings, input in planning initiatives, and encourage all the students to participate in the democratic process.

Hawk The Vote hosted a forum for city council candidates at the Iowa Memorial Union. This gave students the chance to hear out each candidate who could potentially represent them as Iowa Citizens. Newcomer Clara Reynen is a graduate student at the University and stated she plans to bring a young voice to the council. Challenger Newman Abuissa is attempting to appeal to young voters through his aggressive environmental action. Incumbent Megan Alter plans to improve the child care industry, and Incumbent Bruce Teague appeals to his extensive experience addressing affordable housing and free busing measures. 

To learn more about these candidates, visit the KRUI YouTube for interviews and updates.

The post Democrats Tour Campus to Connect with Youth Voters, KRUI Talks with Clara Reynen appeared first on KRUI Radio.

Why this tax?

City officials pitched the LOST as a tool to ease pressure on property taxes while creating a more diversified revenue stream. The rationale: with Iowa’s state legislature limiting other revenue tools and property tax increases politically unfeasible, the sales tax offers a way to capture spending from visitors and local commerce rather than relying solely on homeowners. 

What it will apply to – and who will pay

Essentials such as groceries, prescription medication, and gasoline remain exempt under state law and are unaffected by the surcharge. The 1 % increment will apply to most taxable retail sales and services within city limits. Meaning in practice, anyone shopping or receiving taxable services in Iowa City will shoulder the cost at the point of purchase. Businesses are responsible for collecting these revenues. Which means local merchants will see it built into their tax obligations, but will not experience major structural changes beyond that.

Economic and business impacts

For firms, the immediate impact is small as the tax is modest and incremental, and most businesses will simply add the extra penny per dollar to existing tax lines. That said, there are a few considerations:

• Highly price-sensitive goods or services might see a marginal drop in demand, especially from cross jurisdiction shoppers who compare local tax burdens.
  
• The city’s pitch argues the LOST tax could actually support business growth by improving infrastructure, expanding housing supply, and enhancing downtown amenities.
  
• Capturing spending from the cities’ uniquely affluent visitor traffic means more local control and the potential for reinvestment at home.
  

Where the funds go

By law, half of all LOST revenue must be allocated to property‐tax relief. The city’s ballot commitment specified that the remaining half will be distributed among three broad categories:

• Affordable housing initiatives,
  
• Community partnerships with nonprofits and services,
  
• Public infrastructure and facilities.
  

Supporters

Supporters have framed the measure as protecting homeowners, improving affordability, and investing in core community needs. Local retail and service-sector stakeholders, particularly those inside the city’s commerce zone, generally backed it on the premise that the tax helps capture out-of-town spending and creates a more stable municipal budget. An increasingly pressing concern in light of the end of American Rescue Plan funds and financial threats from the federal and state levels.

Opponents

While there was no high-profile, organized mass opposition in Iowa City, some have pointed out the regressive nature of such taxes, even though essentials are exempt. Others have expressed concern that when times are lean and superfluous spending slows down, the tax base could shrink, depriving the city of expected revenues. 

What’s next

Collections are slated to begin July 1, 2026, and the city has committed to transparent annual reporting on how the revenue is collected and spent.

For Iowa City, this marks a shift: the city is betting on its cultural prestige and believes capturing more of the economic activity within its limits will empower both households and local businesses, while aligning investments with pressing needs in housing and infrastructure.

The post Iowa City Passes (LOST) Sales Tax appeared first on KRUI Radio.

There are a number of eateries that fit this description well, and doubtless those will be featured at a later date as further subjects of articles in this series, but ultimately only one could ever answer the question of what Iowa City food is to me.

George’s Buffet is an unassuming dive bar sat just off of the one-way, westbound, Market Street. The small structure is saddled between an alley leading back to another side street and a modern imposing building housing The Webster (a high-end feature in Iowa City’s restaurant scene) on the corner of North Linn Street. Further up the road is the Bluebird’s parking lot, and its corresponding classic diner.

On its own, George’s doesn’t seem particularly remarkable. It’s a bar with at best precarious street parking out front. The distinctive black-and-yellow striped awning, amidst a bright building, pairs curiously with the dark front window, a black-painted facade of the buffet itself. One could stand outside and barely see the dark interior through the glass, shrouded behind a myriad of verdant plants and signs of beer brands obscuring the heart of the building.

And even if one chooses to enter this place, there’s little immediately to write home about. It is, to the George’s-virgin’s eyes, exactly the kind of bar it’s exterior eludes it to be. Mostly black furnishing fills the murky space. At any given hour the bartender is serving a variously-sized crowd of locals, occasionally bolstered by a stray party of collegiate bar-crawlers or quieter, studious types, tapping away at laptops over choice beverages. Collages, maps, and beer-branded placards adorn the shady, antiquated walls. These ornaments catch one’s gazing eyes. Behind the counter, amidst the bric-a-brac of liqueur and oddities, hand two old and dimly lit machines. To a modern viewer, they seem nothing more than another bauble in the long line.

The keen reader will recall the full title of this establishment, George’s Buffet. An inquisitive sort might find themselves looking for food within. Without inquiry, this sort of fellow might find themselves deeply disappointed. Chips hang amongst the liquers behind the bar, but little more, and certainly nothing resembling the traditional sense of buffet. I’m certain many people have stopped here expecting that one named part of George’s Buffet, and unsatisfied by its absence sought elsewhere for more overt dining prospects.

But what is there if you pull away the curtain, and look behind the veil? What can we find in searching this place for eatery?

It’s a well-worn, time-honored process: step up to the bar, and order 2 burgers. In my experience, you ask for everything on them, which doesn’t really amount to much. You can add horseradish, but I’ve never been quite fond of it myself. After a few minutes (or longer, depending on how crowded it is), they’ll bring the burgers out to you. They’re wrapped in the classic paper style, not particularly imposing things. George’s burgers are neither big, nor heavy, nor tall. And yet, they are in my own opinion the greatest burgers Iowa City has to offer.

These burgers are rather hard to describe, because they are ultimately so simple. They have pickles and diced onions beneath the fairly austere bun. The cooks put ketchup and mustard on them. What is the secret then, dear reader? What puts these burgers above the average barbecue uncle’s handiwork?

I might be content to call it magic. The truth really isn’t that far from it. In the back of the bar stands an ancient boiler. Longtime George’s regulars speculate, that it was forged by the first peoples to walk the earth, in times long forgotten even in myth and legend, shaped by a thousand hands, each belonging to masters of their craft, suffused with all the awesome power known to the elders of man. It is a keepsake from a time of heroes.

I kid. However, the broiler is in all fairness pretty dang old. I’m not sure exactly when it appeared, but I believe it’s been there since Georges opened more than 8 decades ago, or otherwise shortly after. The burgers made in the thing have almost a century of built up flavor embedded in them. To my memory, the owner of Georges once even tried making a burger the exact same way but in a different broiler, and it wasn’t nearly as good.

That’s the magic, if you’d like to call it that. I certainly would, dear reader.

George’s works as a starting point because it stands for much of the culinary offerings here in Iowa City as a whole.

If you came here as somebody from outside Iowa, what does Iowa City mean to you? We have a football team. We host a number of great academic institutions. You’ve likely heard of our hospital. But isn’t that just the surface level? There are so many wonderful shards of this place hidden beneath the surface, if you only look a little bit closer. I suppose that’s a kind of mission statement for this column: Looking beneath the superficial, gathering fragments to reassemble the whole of this college town. Seeking out the great food in Iowa City, be it obvious to–or obscured from–the surface view.

I only hope I can shed light on new experiences for you, dear readers. To look closer. Dig deeper.

Until the next.

The post Under the Table: George’s Buffet appeared first on KRUI Radio.

AI  automation is already here, while a general intelligence or robot overlords may be a concern for the future, LLM or large language models, image generation, and a plethora of often freely available software have begun to find their way into higher education, leaving those in charge of curricula playing catch-up.

From a student’s perspective, AI offers convenient and democratised support, especially during off‑hours, and can supplement human help. Learning how to engage with AI deliberately, rather than passively, is emerging as a key skill that the university has positioned itself as providing.  i.e., not just “use AI,” but “use AI well”.

After tracking more than 4000 students’ use of AI on coursework from 2024-2025, the university’s own research found “No significant relationship between how frequently students used AI tutors and their course performance.”

“Imagine a world where our graduates are not competitive in the job market because they lack basic AI literacy. A world where our researchers are falling behind because all their peers are finding ways to accelerate their research. A world where our students aren’t as successful in their academic pursuits as those at other universities. A world where our people lack a fundamental understanding of the ethical, privacy, and reliability issues around AI. It’s our responsibility to adapt to the world being transformed by AI.” (Iowa)

The Chemistry Department’s associate professor of instruction, Adam Brummett, received a grant of nearly $50,000 for a project titled “Utilization of AI to Expand Timely, Personalized Feedback Across Cultures.” With goals to harness AI algorithms to generate feedback for students, based on instructor prompts and student data. (College of Liberal Arts and Sciences)

On October 8th, the School of Journalism and Communication hosted author and writing educator John Warner for his book tour titled “Only Humans Write”. His Lecture was attended by many students and faculty from the university seeking guidance on how to navigate education’s future. Many educators felt betrayed by their colleges’ embrace of what they see as detrimental to the core purpose of a degree.

“AI is a tool of automation, not intelligence,” said Warner while speaking at the public library to an eager and packed crowd. “Do not mistake the volume of information for expertise”.

Warner urged students to resist deskilling by outsourcing the process of writing and warned that removing the necessary friction of education for efficiency’s sake risks producing undeveloped adults alienated from their own critical thinking. Speaking directly to teachers, he suggested they protest the insistence from higher-ups and their peers on the usefulness of AI and resist what he characterized as “technological determinism”. Citing the international community’s quick responses to ban reproductive cloning in the 90s as an optimistic example of how technological progress is not inherently fatalistic.

The day after Warner’s warning, Tippie College of Business alum Nate Herkmann gave a lecture as part of the UIowa Applied AI series. His and the department’s embrace of technology stood in stark contrast to the school of journalism event. 

“Think of AI as leverage, not a replacement,” said Herklman. “A person who uses AI is 10x more productive.”

Nate is the co-founder of TrueHorizon, a tech startup he began in 2024 immediately after graduating from university. TruHorzions’ business model looks at firms’ workflows and digital infrastructure to design and suggest the implementation of AI software to automate companies’ goals. Since then, Herlkman has grown the business to over $150,000 a month in sales and also operates an AI education YouTube channel with more than half a million subscribers.

During the lecture, Nate outlined his vision for the future of labor dominated by 1-man startups and a “golden ratio”, where 60% of tasks will be replaced,  30% will be AI-assisted, and 10% will remain for a human touch.

The majority of the event was dedicated to actually teaching the students in the audience how to use AI and automate many of their day-to-day tasks, such as typing and slide creation, with AI tools like Gamma and n8n.

“I’ve logged more than half a million words in WhisperFlow because I don’t type anymore,” said Herklman on his use of speech-to-text programs.

These local examples represent 2 extreme ends of a very real and consequential debate occurring across the country. While those in certain careers view the technology as once in a lifetime opportunity and the future of their fields, others, often in at-risk jobs including music, English, and graphic design, see these developments as plagiarizing and stealing from the very people the technology is attempting to replace with zero credit or compensation. 

“If paying people for their work kills the (AI) industry, then it should be killed.” (Warner)

Starting in July 2026, House File 252 will require that teachers’ preparation programs include instruction on computer science, AI, and computational thinking.

The post Between Silicon and Soil: AI’s Impact on Iowa’s Academic Landscape appeared first on KRUI Radio.

After the death of an American who passed away after accidentally consuming counterfeit medication in September of 2024, the DEA aggressively began an investigation into these pill mills through operation Press Your Luck to combat the threat of online, often foreign-based, pharmacies targeting American consumers. Law enforcement has since seized more than 357,000 deadly doses of fentanyl in Iowa since January alone.

DEA testing has found that almost half of all counterfeit pills they seized with fentanyl contained a lethal dose. Meaning many who order from these contaminated sources or think they are taking licensed prescriptions are at risk of overdose on first use.

Many of these sites purport to be legitimate, U.S.-based, or FDA-approved sites, but are actually working with drug traffickers to fulfill online orders with fake pills. These website operators are going to great lengths to make the websites look like legitimate online pharmacies –  offering 24-hour customer service, posting online reviews and safety facts, and offering deep discounts to deceive customers into believing they were buying from a reputable business.

Sites currently identified as selling counterfeits include

• www.Curecog.com
• www.Pharmacystoresonline.com
• www.Careonlinestore.com
• www.yourphamacy.online 
• www.MD724.com
• www.Greenleafdispensarystore.com
• www.Whatishydrocodone.weebly.com
• www.Orderpainkillersonline.com
• www.USAMedstores.com 

Drug traffickers can advertise on social media platforms like Facebook, Instagram, Snapchat, TikTok, Twitter, and YouTube. These advertisements are in disappearing, 24-hour stories and in posts, which are promptly posted and removed. Once contact is made, drug traffickers and potential buyers often move to an encrypted communications app like WhatsApp, Signal, and Telegram.

Fentanyl has become responsible for 70% of overdose deaths in the US and is the leading cause of death for people between the ages of 18 and 45.

“For parents, talk to your children early, at a young age,” said special agent Travis Ocken of the DEA’s Omaha Division: “Don’t shelter them so they don’t hear about this information. As parents, we want our children to be able to come to us with questions and know someone is there supporting them. If young adults don’t feel comfortable coming to us as parents to learn the true dangers, they’re going to go somewhere else. Whether it’s TV, friends, or social media, it’s often glamorized”. 

Signs a seller may be suspicious include

• Sells prescription drugs without requiring a valid prescription from a healthcare provider
• Offers much cheaper prices than what is typically seen in the market
• Lists prices in a foreign currency
• Does not contain proof of a valid pharmacy state license or DEA registration 
• Medicine arrives in broken or damaged packaging or in a foreign language
• Medicine does not have an expiration date or is expired

Strides in Naloxone technology and accessibility have been a huge asset to communities combating overdose deaths; down almost 20% since 2024. Naloxone displaces the opioid molecules from the brain’s receptors and reverses the respiratory depression caused by an overdose within two to eight minutes. State and local programs have begun offering free Narcan in offices and vending machines, including in Johnson County as of last August.

However, how lawmakers and institutions should approach the opioid crisis still poses an uncomfortable debate for many, especially in Iowa’s legislature, where bills advocating harm reduction and decriminalizing fentanyl test strips have been repeatedly introduced and failed to pass. Under current law, the paper test strips used to detect trace amounts of fentanyl, xylazine, or analog alterations are classified as “drug paraphernalia” and warrant a simple misdemeanor.

In July, Sen Chuck Grassley introduced and successfully passed the Fentanyl HALT Act, which permanently extends the 2018 order classifying fentanyl as a Schedule 1 drug, allowing greater enforcement authority and harsher punishments for offenders. Since then, a myriad of arrests and long sentences have been issued, in line with headwinds toward a tougher on crime approach and away from increasingly unpopular harm reduction methods, such as in Oregon.

The CDC and DEA advise parents and community members seeking more information about available resources and preventing overdoses to visit One Pill Can Kill | DEA.gov.

The post Law Enforcement Warns Students About Fentanyl-laced Prescription Pills. appeared first on KRUI Radio.

The city manager, Peter Zamansky, in January released a proposal to lay out reductions in spending to shrink the deficit this fiscal year. However, policymakers are looking for larger cuts and structural changes to address the city’s long increasing debt burden.

Image via Axios

One of the largest services under scrutiny is Des Moines’ DART bus system. Reimagine Dart is the city’s response to the decision by the communities of Grimes and Pleasant Hills to no longer contribute to funding the municipal bus service. Des Moines, Polk County, and eight suburban communities (Altoona, Ankeny, Bondurant, Clive, Johnston, Urbandale, Windsor Heights, and West Des Moines) have agreed to retain membership in the transit authority and work together over the next 18 months to redesign the system. However, like many services that aren’t turning a profit at the moment, it will likely be reduced to a shell of its current self as it is forced to decide between speed and coverage.

State lawmakers met May 15 without changing tax law. City leaders say lawmakers acknowledge regional public transit’s unique needs, but have prioritized slowing local budget growth over those needs.

(left: current dart coverage, right: after proposed cuts; image via DART)

An earnings tax on those who live outside of Des Moines but commute to the city for work has been advocated by some to address the transit system’s debts, but such a tax remains illegal under Iowa law. Some argue that earnings taxes create negative market distortions and could exacerbate the current budget crisis further. Policymakers fear an earnings tax would decrease population growth and encourage businesses and workers to move and operate outside the city limits to avoid the tax, further lowering the city’s tax base.

Despite rising deficits and debt, in 2023 Republicans passed the homestead tax credit that gave exemption to senior homeowners and limited property tax rate below 3%. As of January 2025, Gov. Reynolds has fully replaced Iowa’s tired progressive income tax system with a flat rate that is estimated to cost the state $600 million in revenue this year. The city has since relied on support from the American Rescue Plan to make up some of that lost revenue; however, in 2025 that support has also ended.

Faced with a need to stay financially solvent and provide essential services, but unable to enact adequate tax reforms, the city has found its solution is rising property values.

In 2018 the city hired consulting firm CBZ to review the city’s development initiatives, which recommended that investing in curb appeal in wealthier neighborhoods and gentrifying the urban downtowns would increase the Des Moines housing market’s competitiveness and raise home prices and tax revenues without high upfront costs associated with providing public services to the poor.

The out-of-state consultant also recommended the city pause the low-income housing tax credit, or LIHTC, and focus on programs like Invest DSM and ION. 

The city is taking public feedback on CBZ’s recommendations until June 15th and plans to vote on the program’s continuation June 30th.

Programs like Invest DSM and Habitat for Humanity have increasingly been directed toward “revitalization” projects that promise both homeowners and city officials that these projects will increase property values and generate tax revenue for the city. ReflectDSM, the city’s historic preservation plan, announced in 2023 these goals:

• Stabilize and improve property values and the equity held by the citizens in their property
• Protect and enhance the city’s attraction to tourists and visitors
• Strengthen the economy of the city

Increasingly, government programs and partnered NGOs have begun to operate not as public services, but with tax revenue and market desirability as a primary goal.

Image via CBZ

This has taken the form of the city increasingly targeting its resources toward specifically middle- and upper-class neighborhoods that have been identified for their market and taxable potential, with less attention given to lower-income communities that, from the city’s perspective, possess a lower return on investment and high costs to service.

At the same time, available land for development is increasingly scarce in the urban center near jobs and opportunities. NIMBYs have used zoning laws and litigation to make it difficult and expensive to construct affordable housing in those areas. 

One resident in the vicinity of a recent housing development for the homeless in East Des Moines told KCCI, “We don’t want it. We have children; this is a little neighborhood, and we don’t want that kind of stuff in our neighborhood. We have kids.” However, there is evidence that neighborhoods with similar homeless housing projects saw reports of crime drop over 30%.

In 2024, another development proposed by Hope Ministries received majority support from the city council and unanimous approval from the city planning commission to construct affordable group homes between two lots of undeveloped woodlands, but the project was slowed down and ultimately abandoned because of challenges from a handful of homeowners.

For the government and developers, this means affordable housing projects have become easier in areas with less friction and more available land, and therefore have been pushed to the suburbs and periphery of the city. Along with the city’s ordinances this year cracking down on the homeless and its increased police budget, the poor are being priced out and intentionally pushed further away from urban opportunities and resources, in order to attract residents with more desirable income brackets. Des Moines is forced to compete with its own suburbs to generate housing solutions similar to those seen in Ankeny or Waukee.

The post Des Moines’ plan to solve its budget crisis: gentrification appeared first on KRUI Radio.