On February 6, 2021, Marcia Levering, a veteran guard at the former medium-security federal prison in Leavenworth, Kansas, was nearly killed when a high-risk inmate was mistakenly released into her hallway. “He kind of gave me this eerie green grin,” Levering recalled, moments before boiling water scalded her face. The attack left her with multiple stab wounds, loss of colon and spleen, a punctured lung and lasting facial paralysis.
The facility, then run by CoreCivic under a U.S. Marshals Service contract, had long suffered from chronic understaffing, overcrowding and violent incidents. A 2017 Justice Department audit warned that mandatory security posts were frequently left unmanned, a flaw that later contributed to Levering’s assault. After a Biden-era executive order ended private-prison profiteering, the prison closed later that year, only to be resurrected under a new ICE agenda.
From federal prison to ICE detention centre
In March of this year, the Midwest Regional Reception Center reopened, this time housing immigrants—most of whom lack criminal convictions—under the authority of Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE). The Department of Homeland Security purchased the site from CoreCivic for $238.4 million, yet the company continues to operate the facility under its existing ICE contract. Local officials allege that CoreCivic bypassed community opposition and standard permitting processes, effectively forcing the city’s hand in a mass-detention project.
The Kansas City Star reported a population of 365 men and 112 women at the center, a figure echoed at a July 28 community advisory board meeting. Detainees’ families, represented by groups such as Northland Neighbors United, claim medical neglect, inadequate food and prolonged lockdowns. CoreCivic spokesperson Ryan Gustin dismissed the accusations, asserting the facility “meets or exceeds” American Correctional Association standards.
Legal wrangling and the city’s bargain
Leavenworth’s city commission repeatedly rejected deeper involvement in immigration detention. After the presidential election, CoreCivic submitted a three-month proposal to reopen the jail without first securing a special use permit. The city sued to enforce its permitting authority, and CoreCivic counter-sued, claiming its federal contract exempts it from local law. In June 2025, a state district court judge issued a temporary injunction barring operation without the permit.
On March 25, 2025, CoreCivic vice-president John Malloy emailed commissioners with a financial lure: “300 well-paying jobs at starting salaries of $28.58/hour,” plus more than $1 million in annual property taxes, a $1 million one-time impact fee and additional yearly payments to the city and police department. The final impact fee settled at $1.5 million, which City Manager Scott Peterson said would cover legal costs. The city’s planning commission voted 5-1 to recommend the permit, and the commission approved it on March 10 by a 4-1 vote.
Despite the promises, current staffing levels fall far short of CoreCivic’s claims. By early 2025, only 150 employees were on the payroll—half of the advertised 300 positions. Workers report 12-hour shifts, mandatory overtime and schedules that extend to six or seven days a week, leaving little time for family. Former guard Bill Rogers described the hiring process as “you gotta pass their background check… and you gotta be breathing,” underscoring the low entry standards.
Safety concerns echo past failures
Levering’s own experience illustrates the danger of understaffing. She and colleague Diana Polanco were the only two officers on the floor when the inmate was released. Polanco, not yet certified to carry pepper spray, suffered a broken jaw, facial fractures and lasting nerve damage. Levering endured 16 facial reconstruction surgeries, chronic vertigo, gastrointestinal issues and now survives on $825 a month in disability payments.
Former employees highlight a pattern of cutting critical safety roles. CoreCivic eliminated “bubble” officers—guards positioned in elevated control booths—to save costs, stripping prisons of real-time monitoring. Shari Rich a 13-year veteran of the facility, linked Levering’s assault directly to this decision, recalling prior attacks when bubble stations were understaffed.
Incidents remain frequent. A 2021 ACLU-led study documented an average of 37 violent events per month at the Leavenworth site between May and July. CoreCivic attributes such spikes to staffing shortages, yet its spokesperson claims the facility is “appropriately staffed based on the number of individuals in our care,” despite a 2017 audit that flagged chronic understaffing years before COVID-19.
Community advocates, including Esmie Tseng communications director for the ACLU of Kansas, condemn the profit-driven model: “We’re making a contract out of putting people in cages. This isn’t just moving widgets from one place to another, or manufacturing notebooks and pens. This is profiting off of people being put in cages.”
As the prison continues to operate under ICE, the intersection of private-profit incentives, legal loopholes and inadequate oversight keeps both detainees and staff at risk, reviving a debate that began with Levering’s life-changing injury.
