April Vinson never expected a simple lunch hour to turn into a parent’s worst nightmare. On October 15, 2025, her five-year-old son Yesha, who is nonverbal and has autism, managed to leave Jefferson Elementary School in New Rochelle, New York, unsupervised. It was only thanks to a tracker app on her phone that April realized Yesha had left the school’s premises at around 12:47 p.m.—and that he remained outside for nearly 10 to 15 minutes before being found.
"I was shocked and terrified when I saw the alert," April Vinson recounted to local media, her voice still tight with anxiety. For any parent, the thought of a young child wandering alone is frightening enough. But for parents of children with autism—especially those who are nonverbal—the risks multiply. Yesha’s inability to communicate verbally made the situation all the more alarming. "He can’t call for help or explain where he’s supposed to be," Vinson explained. "It’s every special needs parent’s fear."
According to reporting by local outlets, the incident unfolded during the school's lunch period. Somehow, Yesha slipped away from supervision and exited the building. The tracker, which Vinson had placed on her son precisely because of his tendency to wander, pinged her phone and set off a frantic chain of events. For approximately 10 to 15 minutes, Yesha was outside the safety of the school, exposed to the unpredictable dangers of the world beyond its doors.
Vinson’s experience is not unique. Across the United States, families of children with autism face a daily struggle to ensure their children’s safety, particularly in public spaces like schools. The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) estimates that nearly one in 36 children in the U.S. is diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder, and wandering—sometimes called “elopement”—is a well-documented risk. For nonverbal children, the stakes are even higher, as they may be unable to respond to strangers, request help, or even recognize hazards such as traffic or water.
Just a week after Yesha’s ordeal in New Rochelle, another community hundreds of miles away was grappling with a different kind of crisis—one that threatened the very infrastructure designed to support children like Yesha. On October 23, 2025, officials at the Jericho School for Children with Autism in Jacksonville, Florida, announced a temporary closure. The reason? Federal funding delays caused by an ongoing government shutdown.
Angelo Martinez, the school’s executive director, explained the gravity of the situation in a public statement. “Because of the government shutdown, the funds for these services suddenly halted and we were told that payments would not be processed until the end of the shutdown,” Martinez said, according to local news reports. The Jericho School, a non-profit institution run by a board of directors, is not filing for bankruptcy, but the abrupt halt in funding left them with no choice but to pause operations while they determined their next steps.
The closure is particularly painful for military families in the Jacksonville area. In recent years, the Jericho School had expanded its educational and therapeutic programs to serve the children of service members stationed nearby. Martinez highlighted the importance of these offerings: “We have been starting to provide more educational and therapeutic programs for military families in this community in the past couple of years.”
For families already navigating the complexities of raising a child on the autism spectrum, the sudden loss of routine and specialized support can be devastating. The staff at Jericho School, Martinez emphasized, are "very dedicated individuals who understand the tremendous importance of the individualized educational and clinical programs that we provide to so many children and families that require such specialized services for children on the autism spectrum." He added, “The logistics of this are complex at this time; however, we have motivated staff that are dedicated to this effort and with the help of the community, we can maintain the school and programs and continue to make a difference in the lives of children with autism.”
Parents, understandably, have rallied in support of the school, reaching out to offer encouragement and assistance. The board’s chairperson, Brian Lee, reassured families in a letter that “The School is actively monitoring the situation and consulting with financial and legal experts to determine the most responsible steps moving forward.”
The juxtaposition of these two incidents—one involving the physical safety of a vulnerable child, the other the financial stability of an institution serving many such children—underscores the fragility of the support systems on which families of children with autism rely. In both cases, the failures were not due to lack of care or effort by parents or educators, but rather to lapses in systems and safeguards that are supposed to protect those least able to protect themselves.
In New Rochelle, Yesha’s escape has prompted renewed scrutiny of school safety protocols for students with special needs. While the school district has not publicly commented on the specifics of the incident, advocates stress the importance of comprehensive training for staff, secure facilities, and clear emergency plans. "Every school should have a plan for preventing elopement, and staff must be vigilant," said a spokesperson for a national autism advocacy group. "Technology like tracking devices can help, but nothing replaces attentive, well-trained adults."
Meanwhile, in Jacksonville, the Jericho School’s predicament highlights the vulnerability of non-profit institutions to broader political and economic forces. Government shutdowns have far-reaching effects, but for families depending on specialized educational and therapeutic services, the consequences are immediate and deeply personal. The interruption of funding doesn’t just affect payrolls or budgets—it disrupts the daily lives and developmental progress of children who need consistency and expert care.
Despite the challenges, both communities have shown resilience and determination. In New Rochelle, April Vinson is advocating for stronger protections and better communication between schools and families. In Jacksonville, staff and parents are working together to weather the funding crisis, hoping for a swift resolution to the government shutdown and a return to normalcy for their children.
As the stories of Yesha and the Jericho School demonstrate, the journey for families of children with autism is often fraught with uncertainty and anxiety. But it is also marked by fierce love, resourcefulness, and an unwavering commitment to their children’s well-being. For now, these families continue to hope—and to fight—for the safe, supportive environments their children deserve.