I explored a U.S. town dealing with the world’s most contagious disease… the alarming situation at the epicenter

I’m in a busy supplements store in West Texas when a woman walks in coughing as she weaves through the shelves of vitamins.

A store clerk approached, and the two spoke in hushed, urgent tones about a ‘very sick’ child. 

She was then quietly directed to a display of cod liver oil bottles labeled ‘for kids’ at the front of the store.

Despite her cough — a potential telltale sign of measles — no one batted an eye.

Customers kept browsing, seemingly unaware they may have just been exposed to the most infectious disease on Earth.

I am currently situated in Seminole, a rural town that has become the hub of the deadliest measles outbreak in the United States in the past ten years. This outbreak has resulted in the tragic loss of two young girls’ lives.

Seminole, with a population of 7,000 residents and situated in Gaines County close to the New Mexico border, has become a hotspot for anti-vaccine beliefs. This is evident from its significantly low measles vaccination rate, which is one of the lowest in the nation.

Merely 82 percent of the town’s residents have been immunized against measles, falling far short of the 95 percent immunization threshold required to prevent the spread of the disease. A large number of individuals in Seminole opt for alternative approaches like ‘natural remedies’ offered in local stores, as opposed to vaccination.

Cod liver oil contains vitamin A, which some evidence suggests may help support the immune system as it fights a measles infection. The supplements have been promoted by vaccine skeptic and HHS Secretary, Robert F Kennedy Jr.

Official figures suggest 62 patients have been hospitalized with measles in West Texas and nearly 600 people have been sickened.

But having been here, on the ground, that number feels like a massive understatement.

It’s nearly impossible to go anywhere in Seminole without meeting someone who personally knows someone affected by measles.

Over coffee in a local cafe, I met a woman who described how her neighbors — an entire family — had all come down with the disease.

Later, in a nearby parking lot, another woman told me how three different families she knew had all been sickened.

Officials continue to stress that vaccination is the most effective way to prevent measles, but the message appears to be falling on deaf ears.

Seminole is home to a tight-knit community of Mennonites — a reserved and generally well-off Christian sect that often favors natural remedies over modern medicine.

While there is nothing in Mennonite scripture that explicitly forbids vaccines, many in the community choose to avoid them, swayed by local rumors of dangerous side effects and the belief that vaccines simply don’t work.

At the same time, public health officials have urged those who are unvaccinated and exposed — or showing symptoms — to isolate.

But in practice, there’s little evidence that this guidance is being widely followed.

One Mennonite woman in a blue-and-white dress, holding a bag of groceries, told me she believed measles was actually ‘good for the immune system,’ and that children could benefit from catching it.

Outside a gym, another woman said she preferred not to vaccinate her children because of ‘all the potential side effects.’

Her fears about side effects are, of course, overblown.

One dose of the MMR vaccine is 93 percent effective against measles; two doses offer 97 percent protection — and drastically reduce the risk of serious complications or death.

Yes, there are side effects from the MMR vaccine — the most common being a sore arm, mild fever, or a light rash.

In rare cases, more serious reactions have been reported, including seizures in children under 23 months. But these occur in fewer than one in 10,000 cases.

Measles itself is far more dangerous.

According to CDC data, about one in five unvaccinated children infected with measles requires hospitalization. One in 20 develops pneumonia. 

Around one in 1,000 suffers encephalitis — swelling of the brain that can lead to permanent damage and, sadly, often death.

In Seminole, that grim statistic has become a reality.

Eight-year-old Daisy Hildebrand and six-year-old Kayley Fehr both lost their lives to measles complications 

They mark not only a local tragedy, but also the first confirmed measles-related deaths in the US since 2015.

I met with Daisy’s father outside a gas station, his eyes rimmed red and voice cracking with grief. 

He was adamant she wasn’t killed by measles. 

‘She did not die of the measles,’ he said. ‘If there’s one thing you should know, it’s that. She was failed.’ 

He was also opposed to the vaccine. ‘The [MMR] vaccine ain’t worth a damn,’ he added. 

‘My brother’s family got it and they all still got sick — worse than my unvaccinated kids. This isn’t about the vaccine.’

Daisy and Kayley are buried both buried the Reinlander cemetery.

Their graves are modest, marked only with simple plaques — quiet reminders of the tragedy that has rocked this small town. 

But even in mourning, misinformation is taking root. 

Religion clearly plays a role in the opposition to vaccination in Seminole, but something dangerous is also happening. 

The Children’s Health Defense, an anti-vaccine group co-founded by RFK Jr, has been in contact with the families of the deceased and is now actively pushing the narrative that measles wasn’t to blame.

That message is reverberating through the community.

Local rumor mills are spinning a different story — one where measles isn’t nearly as dangerous as health officials claim.

‘I got measles when I was young,’ said Jake, a farmhand standing outside the Southern Rose cafe in the town’s center, chewing on a toothpick.

‘It wasn’t that bad, I remember I had to be at home for a bit, but I got lots of ice cream’. 

To combat the outbreak, local health officials have opened a measles testing and vaccination center.

What began as a small operation in a parking lot has since expanded into a large, drive-thru facility — a sign perhaps that people are beginning to take the crisis seriously.

Workers at the drive-thru clinic told me that, in the early days of the outbreak, Seminole felt like a ghost town. 

People were afraid — not of the virus, but of being seen at the testing site and judged by neighbors for engaging with public health services. 

Like a lot of towns across the US, there has been an erosion of trust in public institutions which stem from lockdowns and vaccine mandates during Covid. 

Now that the clinic has been moved to a shed, attendance has crept up. 

Despite cooperation from the public slowly starting to creep up, not everyone is on board.

‘Those two deaths, now they were tragic,’ a farmer told me, before adding, ‘but most of the time, measles really is a mild illness’. 

Only about 82 percent of children entering kindergarten in Gaines County, where Seminole is located, are vaccinated against measles — well below the 95 percent threshold experts say is needed for herd immunity. 

It’s also below the national average of 91.6 percent coverage by 24 months of age.

Local officials have attempted to stem the spread by putting up posters warning of the outbreak and directing people to the testing center. 

But the flyers are mostly confined to government buildings like the courthouse and county office. 

I didn’t see them in places that actually draw people in: restaurants, local stores, or even Walmart.

At the supplement store — a known hotspot for anti-vaccine sentiment and where symptomatic people continue to gather — staff told me they’ve had no visit from any public health department representatives.

While anti-vaccine rhetoric echoes loudly across Seminole, it’s not the only voice.

Outside the Walmart, I met a Mennonite woman who told me she’d chosen to vaccinate all of her children.

‘It’s the right thing to do,’ she said. ‘To protect their health.’

Nationwide, the mesles crisis is growing.

As of mid-April, there have been almost 800 confirmed measles cases across 24 states — the highest number since 2019. 

And if the current pace continues, 2025 could surpass that year’s total of 1,274 cases — making it the worst outbreak in the US since 1992.

The two deaths in Seminole are the only confirmed measles fatalities so far this year, but many fear there could be more.

Widespread federal health cuts — including about $12 billion slashed from health services under the Trump administration — have local health officials in Texas concerned.

But the vaccination site here remains open, for now.