State cannot say how many foster children die each year!
"The state doesn't track these incidents no one really knows how many children have died or were seriously injured while they were in the state foster-care system. What is easier to document are the thousands of children who didn't get the attention or treatment they needed and were left struggling in the system for years. " Eric Thompson of Children's Rights
Let's NOT allow these precious children's death to be in vain - in the news one day, forgotten the next.
THESE ARE OUR CHILDREN! We owe them something.
We don't have to go halfway around the world to find wrongs to right or people in need. There are plenty of evildoers right here at home.
Kelsey Smith-Briggs ,2-year-old
Many are pointing to Kelsey's death as as an example of how the judicial system and DHS fail to protect children. Kelsey died four months after a judge returned her to her mother, despite suspicions the mother had abused her.
The final months of Kelsey Smith-Briggs' life Jan. 9, 2005: Kelsey suffers a broken collarbone and bruises while in the care of her mom, Raye Dawn Smith.
Jan. 24: Kelsey is moved to her paternal grandmother, Kathie Briggs.
April: Kelsey is still in Briggs' care but visits her mom regularly. She breaks both shins.
April 18: Raye Dawn Smith marries Michael Lee Porter.
May 3: Kelsey is placed in state Department of Human Services custody because of the broken legs. She is moved to her maternal grandmother, Gayla Smith.
June 15: Lincoln County - Associate District Judge Craig Key rules that who abused Kelsey is unknown. The judge returns Kelsey to her mother.
Aug. 19: Kelsey is hurt in a car accident.
Oct. 11: Kelsey dies, allegedly after her stepfather, Michael Porter, strikes her in the stomach at their home near Meeker.
Since Oct. 11 Separate memorial services were held the same day, with sheriff's deputies at one to keep the peace. Her new stepfather, Michael Lee Porter, was arrested and charged with first-degree murder. He is free on $250,000 bail. The judge and attorneys are set to meet Jan. 27. Her mother, Raye Dawn Porter, remains under investigation. She hired an attorney. Mike and Raye Dawn Porter are divorcing.
Kelsey's father, Lance Briggs, filed notice with the state, seeking $15 million for her death and an overhaul of the Department of Human Services.
Lance Briggs and his wife, Ashley, are divorcing.
Rallies are held outside the Lincoln County Courthouse and at the Capitol. Some call for the judge in Kelsey's case to resign.
State Rep. Kris Steele begins work on reform legislation to be called the Kelsey Briggs Law.
Kelsey's outspoken grandmother, Kathie Briggs, calls for changes.
A Web site is created. Briggs writes on the home page that she realized Kelsey's purpose in being after Kelsey "joined the other little angels in Heaven." Briggs writes: "She was put here to make a difference - to make sure other children are protected."
BRISTOW ? Raye Dawn Smith was found guilty of enabling the abuse of her 2-year-old daughter and given a 27-year prison sentence, a jury decided today.
After the verdict was announced, Smith lowered her head into her hands and sobbed, "I don't understand. Help me."
Jurors at trial of Smith began deliberating at 2:45 p.m. today. They deliberated for less than three hours before reaching a verdict.
Beforehand, defense attorneys and prosecutors delivered their closing arguments.
Smith, 27, sobbed again today as prosecutors said she was responsible for the death of her daughter.
"Tears do not absolve you of your accountability," District Attorney Richard Smothermon told jurors in closing arguments. "The path of inaction caused Kelsey Shelton Smith-Briggs to be murdered. You can't ignore that. ... This child was murdered. This child was murdered because her mother allowed it to happen."
Prosecutors asked jurors to convict Smith of either child abuse or enabling child abuse. Kelsey, 2, died Oct. 11, 2005, at their home near Meeker.
Both the district attorney and defense attorneys say Kelsey's stepfather, Michael Lee Porter, sexually assaulted and murdered Kelsey. Porter, 27, is serving 30 years in prison after pleading guilty to a lesser charge of enabling child abuse under a deal with prosecutors. He and Smith divorced after Kelsey's death.
Prosecutors said Smith abused Kelsey herself, which is child abuse, and knew Porter was abusing the girl, which is enabling child abuse. Jurors could only choose one.
"She knew. She knew," prosecutor Pattye à High said. "A mother doesn't have the right to choose her man over her baby. A mother doesn't have the right to do it. ... The law requires a mother to stand up for her child."
The district attorney said Smith was on notice her husband was hurting Kelsey, pointing to testimony that Kelsey in May 2005 said to her mother, "Daddy Mike hurt my head." He also pointed to testimony that Smith had called her mother in the weeks before Kelsey's death with concerns after the stepfather taped Kelsey's eyes shut while playing.
Smith's mother testified earlier, "We was starting to watch him."
Jurors in the trial heard from 22 prosecution witnesses, 10 defense witnesses and two prosecution rebuttal witnesses. Smith did not testify.
The prosecution witnesses included Porter, who denied hurting Kelsey and blamed his ex-wife for the death. Porter said he saw Smith abuse Kelsey three times.
Jurors learned during the trial that Kelsey suffered a series of injuries in the last months of her life. She broke a collarbone in January 2005 and both legs in April 2005. She repeatedly was turning up with bruises on her face and body and bumps around her nose. On Jan. 14, 2005, her stepmother found bruises on her body and face and red prickly marks on her rear.
Her defense attorney, Steve Huddleston, told jurors today there was no evidence Smith was responsible for the injuries. He also said she would never have let her then-husband hurt the girl.
"Ladies and gentlemen, this case, from start to finish, is full of doubt," the defense attorney said. "I still have a lot of questions. And, what do questions lead to? Questions lead to doubt."
Huddleston said Smith was only charged because of pressure from the family of Kelsey's father, particularly Kelsey's outspoken grandmother, Kathie Briggs. He said Briggs bizarrely even met with Porter to try to get evidence against Smith.
He showed jurors a photo of the mother playing with a smiling Kelsey and another of Kelsey sleeping on the mother's stomach. He asked jurors if Smith looked in the photos like a woman who would allow her child to be injured.
The defense attorney said, "She has been through enough. ... It is time to stop it. It is time to draw the line in the sand and say, ?It stops here.' ... I need you to stand up for her. ... Stand up. Stop it. Stop this stuff now."
The defense attorney said the evidence of who broke Kelsey's legs was particularly unclear. He pointed to defense testimony that Kelsey sprained her right ankle at the zoo April 14, 2005, but walked on her left leg at a slumber party, the courthouse and the mall until going to her paternal grandmother. She was diagnosed with two broken legs April 25, 2005, when she couldn't walk after returning from the grandmother, according to the testimony.
The district attorney conceded he couldn't say who broke the legs. But Smothermon told jurors they could focus on testimony about Kelsey's bruised and injured behind in January 2005 and have enough evidence to convict Smith of child abuse.
A former boss and a former co-worker testified Smith admitted spanking Kelsey over the diaper with a hairbrush. Smith told police she couldn't explain the bruising and red prickly marks in January 2005.
Michaela Watkins 10-years-old
'The system failed this little girl'
There were plenty of chances to save blond, 10-year-old Michaela Watkins.
Grieving relatives said yesterday that social workers and police had visited the home to investigate complaints against her father and stepmother, Patrick and Joy Watkins, now charged with criminal abuse in her death.
They and an advocate for Kentucky children say the Watkinses should never have gotten custody of Michaela to begin with.
Michaela was found dead at her Winchester apartment Sunday afternoon. Witnesses told police that she had been dead for at least 45 minutes before emergency workers were called, court records show.
'The system failed this little girl,' said Michaela's grandmother by marriage, Audrey Stokley, who said she had complained to social workers about Patrick Watkins. 'They should have checked closer to see what we were talking about instead of saying, 'Well, it's fine.''
Cabinet for Health and Family Services officials said yesterday they are launching an internal investigation into the case, as is customary when a child dies while being monitored by state social workers. The Cabinet decides case by case whether to release details about what led up to a child's death.
But Cabinet Undersecretary Tom Emberton Jr. said he would not release details about the cabinet's contact with Michaela because of the police investigation and in an effort to protect the confidentiality of her three siblings, who have been removed from the home.
Michaela's mother, Rachel Samules, divorced Patrick Watkins in 1997. Initially, she was given custody of Michaela. (Family members have given conflicting spellings of her name, which has also been reported as McCaylah.)
But Samules used to leave young Michaela home alone in Fayette County with her baby brother Michael, sometimes all day and night, in squalid conditions, relatives said. After finding them home alone, the state placed the two children in foster care more than a year ago.
They wound up with the Watkinses, despite Patrick Watkins' history of domestic violence, including several incidents against Samules and one against Joy Watkins, court records from Fayette and Clark counties show.
'I just can't figure out why they would give him custody of the children in the first place,' said Samules' father, Gary Adams of Indianapolis. 'Why didn't they contact the grandparents first?'
Betty Stokley, Joy Watkins' grandmother, said the Watkinses sought custody of Michaela -- who draws a disability check of at least $600 a month -- for the money.
Patrick Watkins' record and the Watkinses' convictions for domestic violence against each other should have been enough to prevent them from gaining full custody of Michaela and from adopting Michael, her half-brother, said David Richart, one of Kentucky's leading child advocates.
'Somebody dropped the ball,' said Richart, executive director of the Louisville-based Institute on Children, Youth and Families. 'I would go so far as to say that the death could have been prevented had the cabinet been diligent in investigating.'
The Watkinses were each charged with first-degree criminal abuse on a child less than 12 years old, for failing to get treatment for Michaela's injuries, police said.
In a taped interview with police, both said they had noticed that the child's breathing was slowing and that a heartbeat was barely detected at one point, court records say.
The Watkinses, who declined an interview with the Herald-Leader yesterday, have pleaded not guilty. Samules could not be reached for comment.
Police would not say whether they believe Patrick Watkins' account that Michaela received her injuries from falling down the stairs. However, authorities have said that more charges are likely once they view the results of an autopsy that was completed Monday.
Despite witnessing repeated acts of violence, Betty Stokley said she did not notify social workers because she knew Patrick Watkins would cut her out of her grandchildren's lives. 'I couldn't call social workers -- I wanted to keep the kids in my life,' she said. 'I thought this way I could keep a close eye on them. I don't know, maybe I should have done more.'
Domestic violence connection
The system failed Michaela on many levels, advocates and officials say.
As far back as 1995, Kentucky child protection officials serving on a task force declared that there was a connection between parents who engage in domestic violence and the risk of physical abuse to their children.
Kentucky social workers routinely deny family members custody simply because there's an allegation of domestic violence, experts say. And mothers can lose custody of their children for not immediately taking them out of the home when a spouse or partner is violent.
Rachel Samules' December 1996 divorce petition mentions two incidents of domestic violence. In one, the petition alleges, Patrick Watkins 'beat her about the head, stole her personal belongings, including her driver's license and all forms of personal identification.'
Teachers often can spot abuse of children, but they could not help Michaela because the Watkinses were given permission to home-school her in December.
Yesterday, Diane Akers, Clark County's director of pupil personnel, said Kentucky's lax state laws governing home-schooling prohibited her from investigating why Michaela was being home-schooled or whether she was receiving an appropriate education. Michaela's death should be a wake-up call to lawmakers to strengthen the law, she said.
'It's a tragic situation,' Akers said. 'We are endangering a lot of children when we don't have some way' of determining how they are being educated.
Akers said that under state law, the Watkinses did not have to tell her why they were taking Michaela out of the school system, or give her details of the curriculum they intended to follow.
Akers said she has many concerns that among the 230 students being home-schooled in Clark County, several parents aren't providing adequate instruction. And she has always worried that some parents might be removing children to avoid scrutiny by school officials.
Shearer Elementary Principal Ed Sigmon said yesterday that there were 'no signs that raised any red flags with us' while she was a student there.
Sigmon described the 10-year-old as 'an overachiever -- a very hard-working young lady.'
Neighbors set up a memorial in front of Michaela's front door Monday night, and staff members at Shearer are raising money to pay for her funeral and to fund a scholarship in her name. Lasting Impressions, in Winchester, also donated a dress for Michaela to be buried in.
A Tarrant County jury Friday convicted an Arlington foster father on a charge of injury to a child for causing the death of his foster daughter in 2005 and trying to make authorities believe the three-year-old girl died of injuries from a car accident.
Timothy Warner, 31, was charged in the death of his 3-year-old foster daughter, Sierra Odom.
The jury returned Friday afternoon to start the punishment phase of the trial. Warner faces up to life in prison, but could be eligible for probation.
Witnesses and recorded confessions showed how Warner's explanations about Sierra's death changed throughout that night and early morning in August 2005.
When police were called to USMD Hospital at Arlington shortly before midnight, Warner said his foster daughter had been hurt in a car accident. He told officers at the hospital that he was taking the 3-year-old to get ice cream when he swerved to avoid a possum and veered off the road, police officers testified.
When Warner struck a brick pillar along side Harris Road, Sierra flew from the backseat to the front of the SUV, he told investigators.
Police officials who testified said they were immediately suspicious of Warner's story since his SUV suffered only "cosmetic damage," and the airbag didn't deploy. An accident investigator and private contractor who showed the jury a computer-generated recreation of the wreck estimated that Warner's SUV was traveling about 5 to 10 mph when it struck the column. They also said he swerved one direction to avoid a tree and then swerved back the other way so he could hit the column.
Tarrant County Sheriff's Detective Danny Nutt, formerly an Arlington police detective, said Sierra had bruises and injuries "from head to toe" in various stages of healing.
Later during questioning at Arlington police headquarters, Warner told detectives that Sierra fell and struck her head against a bookcase and then stumbled into a vacuum cleaner.
Each time she fell, the girl "hit like a ton of bricks," Warner said in a videotaped interview, pounding the table with his fist for emphasis.
"You take care of me Big Tim," Warner said, quoting Sierra after the fall. "You take care of me."
Officers testified that Warner admitted to faking the car wreck to cover up Sierra's injuries. Later, after his wife Valena Warner was interviewed, Warner changed his story again.
A police officer and crime scene investigator testified that Warner told them that he hit Sierra several days earlier after she smeared feces on a wall. Warner told police that accounted for some of her bruises, according to testimony.
He then explained to officers that he was upset with Sierra when she hit one of his biological children the night she died. Warner said he tried to put Sierra in time out, but she fought him and ran to a bedroom, the officers testified.
There Warner admitted to grabbing her by the face and pushing her into the bookcase, where she struck her head on the bottom shelf, according to police testimony. He told officers that her eyes rolled back in her head and she became pale.
Instead of taking the girl to a hospital immediately, Warner told police that he and his wife held the girl in front of fan, performed CPR and put her in a bathtub filled with hot water before staging the auto accident.
Warner's attorney, Joe J. Johnson Jr., attempted to bar the jury from seeing his client's video-recorded confessions. He argued that Warner had been interviewed by police illegally before he was notified of his rights, a claim state District Judge Elizabeth Berry rejected.
During Wednesday morning's testimony, Johnson requested a mistrial at least nine times, partially because of his objections about the Miranda warnings but also when one police officer sobbed after seeing a picture of Sierra's dead body.
Johnson argued that Arlington police Sgt. John Gonzales was "feigning grief because he saw water in a bathtub." The prosecution previously showed the jury a picture the bathtub where the Warners told police that they bathed Sierra after she was injured.
At least one juror also cried.
Johnson also tried to cast suspicion on Mrs. Warner. He asked Sgt. Gonzales: "Have you ever heard of husbands trying to protect their wives in situations like this?"
"Other than on TV, no," Sgt. Gonzales said.
There were eight children living at the Warners' house on Cresswell Drive the night of Sierra's death - four biological children and four foster children. That night, the couple was also babysitting three other children as part of their overnight childcare service.
02:59 PM CDT on Friday, April 27, 2007
By DEBRA DENNIS and JEFF MOSIER / The Dallas Morning News
Octavious Sims, 1-year-old
GEORGIA'S FORGOTTEN CHILDREN State law mandates that doctors, teachers and others report child abuse. But they can't find out what the state does about it.
Octavious Sims, whose family had a long history with the Fulton County DFACS, is one example. From 1990 to 1996, people called 11 times to notify the agency that Octavious or his siblings were not being cared for. Of the 11 complaints, caseworkers said only two could be verified. But according to a later internal review of the case, even then, only minimal steps were taken to ensure the child's safety.
Among those calling to register their concerns were a hospital social worker, law enforcement officers, a juvenile court worker, a school administrator, a mental health worker, friends, relatives and even his mother, Tanya Christian.
Since Christian had her first child at 16, the young mom had had five more, nearly one a year, all the while battling mental illness. Records show that in addition to hearing voices, she had a history of suicidal and homicidal tendencies, with a number of stays at Georgia Regional Hospital.
One week two law enforcement agencies called the Fulton child welfare agency. An Atlanta police officer told caseworkers he'd found the mother and her young children wandering the streets all night. They were so cold and hungry, he said, he'd fed them himself. Despite his firsthand knowlege, and that of a Fulton County warrant officer who called with a similar story, child welfare workers dismissed both reports after visiting the home and finding the children "clean and well-dressed."
"It is unacceptable to dismiss reports made by mandated reporters without more investigation," an internal review by the state office found. The review found that nearly all 11 complaints had been poorly handled, with inadequate investigations and a failure to check the history of reports before responding to a new one. The report also criticized the Fulton agency for not gathering information on the mother's mental illness and treatment.
Even if the police officer had asked child welfare workers what they were doing to help the children, they could only legally have told him that they did not verify what he knew to be true.
Virgil Costley, former juvenile court judge in Newton County, says the law didn't go far enough.
"Teachers and others are their friends, not their enemies," Costley said. "There's no reason why a mandated reporter shouldn't be able to call back and find out what's going on."
He said if more people had the information, more people could help children before it is too late. "Instead it's like saying, 'Don't worry about this. We just want your information and we don't ever want to see you again,'" Costley said.
Octavious was just learning to walk in 1996 when his mother and father killed him. Three days shy of his first birthday, his mother brought him to Midtown Medical Center. He'd been dead for hours. She said the children had been jumping on the bed a week earlier when Octavious hit his head. But the autopsy showed the child had been starved, immersed in boiling water and killed by blows to his face and head.
Last year, on her 24th birthday, Christian and Ricky Lee Sims pleaded guilty to voluntary manslaughter and were sentenced to 20 years in prison.
A little girl named Jeannie touched the hearts of Georgia legislators a decade ago.
They never saw her, never met her, but her elementary school teacher from Blairsville in northeast Georgia came to the Gold Dome and told them about her. She told them for a year that she had tried to save the child, a 9-year-old who came to school smelly and dirty and fearful of the men her mother brought into their home. For a year, the teacher said, she had called and badgered the local DFACS office demanding to know what they were doing to protect this little girl and her 6-year-old sister.
For a year, child welfare workers had told the teacher who saw the child almost daily that they could tell her nothing due to conf identiality laws.
Then one day the teacher learned that Jeannie had been killed by one of her mother's friends. He had raped her, stabbed her and thrown her in the river while her younger sister watched, the teacher told the hushed room of lawmakers.
In response to stories like this, the Georgia Legislature relaxed confidentiality laws to allow people like Jeannie's teacher, who are mandated by law to report suspected child maltreatment, to learn whether the agency confirmed abuse. The idea was to encourage more people to get involved and give them a tool to hold the child welfare agency more accountable.
Ten years later, the records of dead children show that many different kinds of people -- from doctors to teachers to police to grandparents -- do indeed call child welfare workers when they fear for the safety of a child. But the records also show that their professional judgment often is ignored.
By Jane Hansen Atlanta Journal-Constitution Staff Writer
Deonna Green 2-year-old
The lessons of Deonna Green
THIS SUMMER, county welfare departments began filing brief questionnaires about child abuse and neglect cases that led to deaths or near-deaths. They filed these reports because they had to -- California was on the verge of losing millions of dollars in funding for failing to comply with federal reporting laws. It's thanks to this bureaucratic snafu that we know about Deonna Green.
Green was the 2-year-old Pittsburg foster girl who died last week after suffering severe brain damage. An autopsy is pending -- but the result seems almost certain to have something to do with the amount of baking soda that the underweight girl consumed the night before her foster mother brought her to Children's Hospital in Oakland. While authorities investigate Green's case, her foster mother, Khareasha Pugh, and her boyfriend, Demaude Dawkins, have both been arrested, and it has come out that complaints have been filed against Pugh in her capacity as a licensed day-care provider.
It's an ugly case, but it may turn out to be a useful one. Who knew baking soda could be so dangerous? Plenty of Bay Area parents do now, and they'll store it accordingly. The Contra Costa Human Services Department, still reeling from another highly publicized child death this fall -- the Raijon Daniels case -- is conducting an extensive review of how it does business, including whether or not it could have better information-sharing practices with other agencies. (Such as the licensing department where Pugh got her day-care provider license.) These are extremely positive developments in a tragic case that might have passed with no notice -- had reporters at the Contra Costa Times not been seeking information about the deaths of foster children in their area.
"Due to the changes the state made in July, which say that if there's a fatality or near fatality (in abuse or neglect cases of children in the social services system), we have to send a report within 48 hours," said Lynn Yaney, public information officer for the county's Human Services Department. "The Contra Costa Times asked us if any children had died in foster care since we had to file these questionnaires, and it just happened that this girl died (last) week."
The Green case is particularly horrific, but it's also a case that may have easily been missed. Although state law requires counties to release the names and dates of death of foster children, it doesn't require that information be matched with counties' abuse and neglect questionnaires. Putting the two together -- and using that information to find out what's happening to our children in the foster-care system -- is still a puzzling business, at best.
We respect the fact that foster children, their siblings and their biological and foster parents deserve confidentiality in every aspect of their lives that isn't germane to the public interest. But when a foster child dies, the public has a right to know why, how and what might be done to keep it from happening again. No member of the public should have to go to court to petition to see a dead foster child's case file. Other states have authorized their officials to make these files public, and the skies have not fallen. Nor have they been threatened with the loss of their federal funding.
Unfortunately, California has a ways to go when it comes to transparency. In an e-mail, Shirley Washington, deputy director of public affairs for the California Department of Social Services, told us that state law prohibits disclosure of any juvenile court records. We had a look at the Welfare and Institutions Code, and indeed state law does require that this information be kept confidential -- "and shall not open to examination for any purpose not directly connected for the administration of that (welfare and institutions) program."
What could be more connected to the proper administration of our child welfare services than the ability of the public to find out if foster children are getting the protection and safety they need?
It's time for California to do better by its foster children. State Sen. Carole Migden, D-San Francisco, is working on a bill to introduce more transparency into the deaths of foster children. Similar bills have failed in the past. The Legislature must act this time.
Monday, December 18, 2006
Arabella Rose Moreno 7-year-old
Police saw 'nothing' at house where girl, 7, died
A top Metro Police official said Thursday that the officers who responded to a domestic disturbance call last weekend at a house where a 7-year-old girl was later allegedly stabbed to death by her mother saw "absolutely nothing" that would have mandated they call Child Protective Services.
Deputy Chief Ted Moody, appearing on "Face to Face With Jon Ralston" on Las Vegas ONE (Cox cable channel 19), said that police saw nothing to support the contention that Sherri Love had thrown a metal candlestick holder at her 14-year-old son, Michael "Mikey" Corbo, and injured him.
"No bruises, no redness, no swelling," he said.
Police were first sent to Love's home at 6268 Alpine Tree Ave. on the disturbance call at 3:30 p.m., according to a police report on the incident. Corbo said the candlestick had hit his back; his stepfather, Richard Moreno, had made the call to police.
But because of "no corroborating witness, and no physical signs of injuries, no arrest was made," police said in their report.
Soon after police left, Love got into an argument with her 8-year-old son, Brian Moreno, about whether he could go home with his father, Richard Moreno. Love and her son got into a scuffle, according to a second police report.
The boy then went to sleep for a brief period, according to the report - only to wake up to find Love stabbing his little sister, Arabella Rose Moreno, to death.
Police said Love then proceeded to stab Brian in the hand and forearm before he ran to a neighbor's house.
Love later tried to kill herself, police said, by ingesting prescription medication and alcohol. She was drunk throughout most of the day, police said.
She remains in a coma in a local hospital.
Arabella apparently told police not to worry about her safety when they responded to the first incident.
Tom Morton, the director of Clark County's Family Services Department, said on "Face to Face" that during the initial police response, Arabella at one point sat in a police cruiser - first with her shoes off before she went to retrieve them - and told them that she didn't want to go to her dad's house.
"She said, 'Mommy would never hurt us,' " Morton said.
But that shouldn't have meant that Love wasn't still a danger, said the lawyer representing the surviving children, Corbo and Brian Moreno, and Love's mother, Marjorie Bull.
"They're going to listen to a 7-year-old kid with no shoes on, with a drunk mother in the house?" Las Vegas attorney Stephen Caruso said. "The irony of that is killing me. I just can't believe it.
"This woman is suicidal, she's drunk - she's a danger to her kids," Caruso said.
A call to social services could have saved Arabella. But officers have to follow specific guidelines to determine when such calls are warranted, Moody said. Those include evidence of abuse, neglect or abandonment, or if the caregiver is "unable" to provide care.
"None of these things became an issue during this call," Moody said. He added that if any of the officers had accessed the Child Protective Services database - as has been suggested they should have done - they would have found that the last call to that agency regarding the Love family was in 1999.
Morton also defended the police officers' actions. "Simply because she had an altercation with a 14-year-old that resulted in a potentially violent act doesn't necessarily mean that there was a threat of violence to the two younger kids," he said.
Said Moody: "Anybody trying to blame the officers or CPS for this is going down the wrong road."
Sam Skolnik can be reached at 474-7406 or at sam.skolnik@lasvegassun.com.
Michael Vallejo-Seiber ,3-year-old
Experts say Child Protective Services failed slain Inland boy
In 2005, Riverside County's Child Services Division removed 3,209 children from their families while investigating allegations of abuse or neglect in the home.
Three-year-old Michael "Mikey" Vallejo-Seiber was not one of them.
On Aug. 22, 2005, a worker from the division -- also called Child Protective Services -- concluded that a bruise on Mikey's face that had been reported by his pediatrician was not the result of abuse. One week later, Mikey was dead, the victim of a savage beating inflicted, Riverside prosecutors say, by his mother's boyfriend and the boyfriend's roommate.
Now, after reviewing case files supplied by The Press-Enterprise, some experts have raised questions about CPS's investigation, while CPS has defended its workers.
Rubidoux resident Alex Kermith Mendoza, 28, who has spent time in prison for drug and domestic violence convictions, could face the death penalty if convicted of the boy's torture and slaying. He has pleaded not guilty.
His roommate, Richard Daniel Cox, 20, was convicted March 7 of first-degree murder and assault on a child under 8 resulting in death. He faces a maximum of 25 years to life in prison when he returns to Riverside County Superior Court on April 13 for sentencing.
Mikey's mother, Pamela Seiber, is serving a six-year sentence after pleading guilty to child endangerment in the case. She has filed an appeal.
Although she was not at home at the time her son was tortured and beaten, prosecutors charged that Seiber failed to protect the boy when she repeatedly left him in the care of Mendoza and Cox, including the night Mikey was tortured. Seiber was at work in a strip club where she performed.
Francisco Vallejo, the boy's father, was in prison before the child was born.
In August 2006, then-CPS assistant director Sharrell Blakeley defended her agency's August 2005 investigation of Mikey. "We did a lot of things right," including responding within hours to the complaint phoned in by the boy's pediatrician, she said. Blakeley has since retired.
CPS is mandated by state law to investigate allegations of child abuse and neglect.
A CPS emergency worker went to Pamela Seiber's home the day the pediatrician made the Aug. 15, 2005, report of Mikey's bruise and suspicions that Seiber was on drugs. However, the worker did not find Seiber at home.
CPS interviewed Mikey and his mother the next day at their Riverside apartment after Seiber contacted the department. No questions were asked about child care arrangements.
Six days later, a worker concluded Seiber was adequately providing for her child, CPS documents show.
'Fundamentally Flawed'
Child welfare experts who reviewed Mikey's case file on behalf of The Press-Enterprise said it raised troubling questions about the training case workers receive in conducting investigations and about an environment that appears to encourage a rush to judgment.
The file was released to The Press-Enterprise after the newspaper petitioned Riverside County Juvenile Court. Presiding Judge Becky Dugan ordered the file released after names of the reporting party, caseworkers and other CPS officials were blacked out.
The caseworker who was part of the emergency response team that investigated the Aug. 15, 2005, complaint did not follow the basic protocols outlined in California's Department of Social Services Manual by not interviewing others involved in the child's care, said Bill Grimm, senior attorney for the National Center for Youth Law in Oakland.
No interviews were done with the grandparents, neighbors or the child's physician.
Grimm said the worker also ignored an important diagnostic tool, a questionnaire about previous CPS complaints, a history of drug or alcohol abuse and the history of the caregiver, that could have found a high risk of neglect for Mikey.
Cynthia Hinckley, director of Riverside County's Department of Public Social Services, declined to discuss specifics about Mikey's case, citing a legal claim filed against CPS by Salomon and Lidia Vallejo, the boy's paternal grandparents.
In general, though, Hinckley said state law does not require interviews with others -- even the person calling in the complaint -- if a report is deemed "unfounded" or untrue. That was the case with the August 2005 allegation and the Vallejos' 2004 complaint, which Riverside County dismissed in 2006.
Vallejo had complained that Seiber was a negligent mother, left her son for long periods of time while she "partied" with friends and used drugs.
In September 2006, CPS adopted a new policy requiring that investigators contact the person making a report, said Jennie Pettet, acting assistant director for children's services.
The new policy was adopted because officials realized a reporting party might have additional information, Pettet said.
Grimm said the case raised other red flags: the age of the child, the location of the bruise and the Vallejos' complaint.
Grimm also was concerned with how easily CPS workers accepted Seiber's explanation of Mikey's bruise despite conflicting versions in the case file.
The boy first told the pediatrician, "Mom hit me." Then when the pediatrician asked if he had fallen on his toy and hit his eye, Mikey said, "Yes, I fell."
Seiber told social workers that Mikey hurt himself when he ran into a table or a counter when her boyfriend's dog came into the house. She later said she wasn't home when the bruising occurred.
"A policeman would have asked to see the table. He would have measured it and measured the boy," Grimm said.
In a closing summary completed after Mikey's death, the social worker notes the conflicting versions of how the boy hurt himself, that Seiber had a substance abuse problem and that she had left the boy alone with a convicted felon.
"This person just wasn't trained and not supervised to do a competent investigation," Grimm said. "It's a fundamentally flawed investigation."
'Gut Feeling'
Hinckley said she believes the worker took appropriate action.
A worker must find credible evidence of abuse or neglect in order to take the traumatic step of removing a child, Hinckley said.
CPS investigations typically average 30 days and can involve contacting the immediate family and talking to anyone having contact with the child including family members, neighbors and school officials, Hinckley said.
Still, Hinckley and Pettet said it is not unusual for a worker to close a case after one interview based on his or her perception of the family situation, the general environment and the bonding between parent and child.
"This particular family situation had so much going for it in general," Hinckley said. "It just didn't come close to rising to the level where we would remove the child."
In a narrative, the worker notes that the boy had no other bruises, that Seiber volunteered to take a drug test and passed, that her apartment was clean and that Mikey appeared happy.
Not everyone agrees.
"I had a gut feeling about that case. Something wasn't right," said Scott Chase, who supervised the emergency worker who responded to the pediatrician's complaint.
Chase no longer works for CPS and was interviewed by telephone at his home in North Carolina.
Chase said he had concerns about the brevity of the investigation, the lack of additional interviews and the inattention to the 2004 complaint made by the boy's paternal grandmother.
While state law may not require additional interviews, "it's definitely best practice," Chase said. "That means what is best for the child. It means following the law plus something more. Following your gut feeling."
Chase said if there had been time, he would have sent the file back to the worker for more investigation. The file was returned to him for review five or six days before Mikey was beaten to death, Chase said.
Horrifying Abuse
Seiber would later tell investigators that she left her son with Mendoza, a man she had known for three weeks, because she had problems finding someone to watch the boy while she danced at night.
According to the CPS investigation narrative and testimony at Cox's trial, over the course of several hours on the night of Aug. 27, 2005, Mendoza slapped, kicked, stomped, burned, sodomized and pummeled the boy as Mikey screamed, cried and pleaded, "Stop, Alex, stop." Mendoza and Cox also forced the child to drink alcohol and eat dog food and his own excrement, according to testimony.
Seiber and Mendoza brought the boy's cold, lifeless body to Riverside Community Hospital in the pre-dawn hours of Aug. 28. Doctors there revived him and transferred him to Loma Linda University Medical Center for more intensive care.
He died the next day.
Loma Linda doctors described it as the worst case of physical abuse that they had ever seen, the case file shows.
The boy had bruises of varying ages over his entire body, severe head and abdominal trauma, a lacerated liver, a ruptured spleen, injured kidneys, a broken rib, burns and injuries to his genitals and rectum.
Lidia Vallejo, who has attended Mendoza's court hearings and Cox's trial, said she and her husband were advised by Corona attorney Michael J. La Cilento not to pursue the lawsuit against CPS but does not recall why.
La Cilento did not respond to repeated calls and a written request for comment.
Seiber's parents, William and Roswitha Seiber, did not respond to calls and a letter seeking comment.
Rush to Close
Randi Miller, professor and chairwoman of the Sociology Department at Cal State San Bernardino, said CPS appeared to be in a rush to close the case.
Miller spent about five years evaluating and providing training for a program run by the San Bernardino County Department of Children's Services and Children's Network of San Bernardino County that assisted families in need, some of them grappling with domestic violence.
"There was a failure on the part of CPS to develop the full picture of what was going on," Miller said. "They seemed to have closed the case without following through, especially with the medical people and the caretakers."
A third expert said his review of the case file showed an adequate investigation that resulted in a reasonable conclusion. Richard Wexler, executive director of the National Coalition for Child Protection Reform, said it is easy to criticize CPS with the benefit of 20/20 hindsight.
"Look at what we have here," he said. "A child who gives conflicting accounts of his injury; no other injuries on the child; a mother who is cooperative to the point of getting in touch with CPS after the workers couldn't find her; a mother who goes for a drug test and it comes back negative."
But an area in which all three experts agreed is that CPS might have missed a golden opportunity to derail the forthcoming tragedy by failing to offer help -- in-home assistance, counseling and daycare options -- in response to Vallejos' 2004 complaint.
Chubby Hands
In a spare bedroom of the Vallejos' comfortable Riverside home, one wall is given over to photos of Mikey. In one, the boy sprawls on his grandfather's chest, laughing at the camera.
The Vallejos doted on their first and only grandchild -- a boy they said had chubby hands, his father's nose and who loved horses, dogs and tools.
The Vallejos' son Francisco, 23, met Pamela Seiber at Lincoln Continuation High School in Riverside in 2000.
Francisco and brother Salomon Jr. were incarcerated for attempted murder months before Mikey's birth.
"He's never held him," Lidia Vallejo said in Spanish.
The Vallejos took care of the boy most days, and he usually spent two or three nights at their house, Lidia Vallejo said.
That all changed when Pamela Seiber met Mendoza. Seiber took Mikey from the Vallejos, and mother and son began spending most of their time at Mendoza's. The Vallejos saw the boy rarely during his final three weeks of life, they said.
But it was Lidia Vallejo who took Mikey to the pediatrician on Aug. 15 for treatment of an ear infection and the bruise on his head.
More than 18 months after Mikey's death, the couple remain grief stricken and holds CPS as well as Mendoza, Cox and Seiber responsible for their grandson's death.
Lidia Vallejo said she was frustrated that CPS declared her 2004 complaint unfounded and believes the department should have made unannounced visits, talked to Mendoza and given Seiber a hair follicle drug test in the 2005 investigation.
"At the end, when Mikey was already severely injured, then they (CPS) got tough with her," Lidia Vallejo said, tears running down her face. "Then it was too late."
In 2005, the year Child Protective Services investigated the case
of Michael "Mikey" Vallejo-Seiber, Riverside County received 23,051 allegations of child abuse or neglect
17,009 referrals resulted in an investigation.
3,209 children were removed from 1,509 families.
As of January 2007:
1,492 of the 3,209 children were reunited with their families.
1,111 children remained with foster families or family members.
178 children transferred out of Riverside County.
83 children were awaiting a placement change or were listed as runaways.
345 children had their cases closed for reasons such as termination of parental rights, adoption and emancipation.
Source: Riverside County Department of Public Social Services
Skyla Brooks 18-month-old
June 5,1998-March 21, 2000
Pair jailed in abuse death of toddler
BRISTOW (AP) -- A Creek County couple are behind bars after being arrested in connection with the death of the woman's 18-month-old daughter.
Tammy Brooks, 27, and her boyfriend, Kurt Arnold Vomberg Jr., 30, are in the Creek County Jail on complaints of first-degree murder and lewd molestation in the death of Skyla Brooks, Chief Criminal Deputy Ed Willingham said Tuesday.
The toddler was pronounced dead at Hillcrest Medical Center in Tulsa at 6:25 p.m. Tuesday, roughly 24 hours after Vomberg reportedly summoned authorities to a home west of Sapulpa.
Vomberg said the child was choking and that he shook her ''pretty hard'' in an effort to revive her, authorities said.
Vomberg said the baby was choking, ''but the doctor said that's not possible,'' Creek County Sheriff Larry Fugate said.
Physicians found bite marks and numerous bruises on her body. Hospital personnel also found a number of scrapes and tears in the child's vaginal area, Willingham said.
Skyla Brooks never had a gentle hand to hold. She never knew a kind face to laugh with her, or a soft lullaby sung as she drifted to sleep...instead she knew only pain and fear, suffered at the hands of those that should have loved her most. On March 21st 2000, little Skyla succumbed to vicious injuries inflicted by her mother's boyfriend. Her tiny body was covered in human bite marks, broken bones, bruises and cigarette burns. She had also been sexually assaulted. Skyla surely looked to her mother for help, but instead of saving her 21 month old little girl, she stood by and allowed Skyla to endure the brutal abuse that finally ended her life. Skyla's grandmothers were aware of the abuse she was suffering, and fought hard to save her. In the end, they had to say goodbye anyway. Please help to remember Skyla and light a candle for her...let this little angel know that she will not be forgotten!
Ricky Morales wore his red Power Rangers suit out to play even when it grew too tight. The would-be hero with deep-set dimples told people his mother would come for him after she got out of jail. But she never did come for him.
By the time he died at age 11 in the custody of his aunt and uncle, Ricky was bone-thin.
His body was a map of bruises and scars, burn marks and cuts when he died in Corona on Christmas Day 2005. He died locked in a feces-strewn closet while his aunt and uncle, Raul and Cathy Sarinana, entertained guests for dinner. The Sarinanas are in a Riverside County jail awaiting trial on murder charges.
Ricky was killed three months after social workers in Washington state, where the family had been living, cleared Raul Sarinana of child abuse allegations. When the letter arrived telling Raul he was not suspected of "negligent treatment or maltreatment," Ricky's 13-year-old brother, Conrad, was already dead, his body entombed in a concrete-filled trash can.
The Sarinanas have pleaded not guilty in Ricky's death. Prosecutors in Washington, where Conrad died, said they plan to charge the couple after their Riverside County trial.
In Washington, child protective services dismissed without investigation at least three reports of neglect, drugs and abuse -- physical, sexual and emotional -- in the Sarinana home. None of the allegations warranted investigations or home visits, officials decided.
In the final months of the boys' lives, authorities in Los Angeles County as well as Washington received reports of abuse. However, investigations were superficial, warning signs were not heeded and basic protective procedures were not followed, according to records and interviews with relatives, social service officials and child-welfare experts.
Officials with the Washington stateDepartment of Social and Health Services and the Los Angeles County Department of Children and Family Services have reviewed their handling of the case and concluded that they did everything they are required to do.
The Los Angeles County Child Death Review Team, which studies child deaths to better protect children, also reviewed the county's handling of the case, said Cassandra Turner, the team's leader.
"Nothing had been done wrong," she said.
Not every child can be saved, even when social workers do everything in their power to protect them, said Turner.
"We are put in a position where we are damned if we do and damned if we don't," she said. "We have to respect the rights of the family while helping them through very dark waters."
In Washington state, Lewis County Child Protective Services Supervisor Juli Stewart said her social workers also did everything they should have.
But a California legislator familiar with the case said the lack of intervention was indefensible.
"That's atrocious," said California State Assembly Majority Leader Karen Bass, who chairs the Select Committee on Foster Care. "I don't see how they can defend that."
The deaths of Ricky and Conrad reflect the problems with child protective services, Bass said. While it's not helpful to attack social services after every tragedy, it also does no good to defend substandard work, she said.
"I think it would have been more honest to say, 'The social workers needed to do better,' " she said.
Social workers throughout the state are overburdened with heavy caseloads, and child protective agencies are often put on the defensive, she said. But cases like this scream out for improvements, she said.
Stu Riskin, a spokesman for the Los Angeles County agency, said no policy violations or systemic problems were exposed in this case.
The boys' deaths have not triggered changes in the system.
'The Dope House'
The brothers were born into danger.
"The first time I saw them was during a drug raid," said West Covina police Detective Dan Nalian. "In the middle of it, (their mother) was sitting on the couch breast-feeding one of them. My partner and I knew it then. These kids never had a chance."
Ricky and Conrad were the youngest of six children. The two oldest siblings died of sudden infant death syndrome, family members said. The boys lived in West Covina with two sisters and their parents, Rosa and Conrad Morales.
"Our house was the dope house, and everyone knew it," said sister Vanessa Gallardo, 23, of Baldwin Park.
"I hated it so much. I always cried, and all the police knew me as the crybaby," she said. Police told her and other children in the family they would grow up to be troubled like her parents, she said.
"That's why I tried so hard to be different, to show my brothers and sister another way of life. ... I used to dream I would get a job and my own place so my brothers and sister could come live with me."
Gallardo earned a technical degree and works in a pharmacy but was never able to adopt her brothers.
Conrad was 1 when social services first entered his life. His arm broke in a fall from a second-story window on the same day his 4-year-old sister ingested PCP and had to be hospitalized. The children were placed in foster care for months before returning to their mother. Over the years, Los Angeles County social workers would investigate at least five more allegations of abuse or neglect involving the children and various relatives.
The family was well known to local police, said Nalian, who made multiple drug raids at the home where the children lived during the '90s.
According to court records, the children repeatedly were traumatized by exposure to drug deals and SWAT team raids when officers blasted locks and broke down doors.
"These people should never have these children," Nalian and his partner wrote to a judge overseeing custody of the young boys. "The only hope is to remove these children from this environment."
When child protective services intervened, Rosa Morales took classes and submitted to drug tests to get her children back. She gave up her boys for the last time in 2004, when her parole for a drug violation was revoked.
She left Conrad and Ricky with her mom in La Puente. But within a few months, Morales let Conrad move to Washington to live with her brother and sister-in-law.
'A Safe Home'
It was then, around Halloween 2004, when Ricky acted out in school. The 10-year-old wrote "Die, Ricky, die" on his arm.
"You just don't know what is going on at my house," he told a teacher. "My life is not worth living."
Fearing that he was suicidal, authorities admitted Ricky to a psychiatric hospital. Los Angeles County Department of Children and Family Services social worker Elia Godinez began investigating allegations that his grandmother beat Ricky and Conrad.
In a report to her boss, Godinez wrote that she substantiated the abuse allegations.
Ricky's maternal grandmother, Estella Sarinana, denies hitting her grandchildren.
By then, Rosa Morales was out of jail, but she couldn't support Ricky.
The social worker gave her an ultimatum, Morales said. "She said, 'Conrad seems to be doing fine in Washington, so why don't you send Ricky to Washington, too? You've got one week to send him to Washington or I'm going back to court, and your kids are going back into foster care.' "
Morales sent Ricky to his Uncle Raul.
Through a county spokesman, Godinez declined to be interviewed for this story.
A follow-up plan devised by Godinez's supervisors directed her to call social services in Washington to make sure Ricky received therapy and to make sure the boys were living in a safe home. She also was supposed to interview Conrad by phone at his school so he could talk freely about conditions in the home. That never happened, according to Los Angeles County records.
In a report to her boss, Godinez wrote that she contacted child protective services in Washington to "ensure their safety." She noted the first name of the person she spoke to.
Washington social service officials said they have no record of such a call, and no one there checked on the boys.
In closing her case, Godinez wrote that the boys had been removed from the abuse and that their mother had made living arrangements for her children and would provide "a safe home" with their uncle.
But Raul Sarinana was a felony drug offender who later told police he took medication for anger management and was plagued by voices. If Godinez had taken her abuse findings to a judge to have the boys made wards of the court, the felony conviction would have disqualified Sarinana as a guardian under California law.
Cracks in the System
An outside expert who reviewed the case for The Press-Enterprise said the system failed the boys because social workers didn't follow basic policies standard among child-protective agencies nationwide.
Division 31 of California's Child Welfare Services Manual lists detailed policies to make sure children are safe when a parent voluntarily removes them from an abusive situation. In such cases where abuse is substantiated, social workers are required to establish a written agreement with the parent and a case plan for ongoing protection of the children.
Child protective services is then responsible for assessing the suitability of the voluntary guardian and the safety of the home and for conducting follow-up visits to make sure the children remain safe. When the children are sent out of state, as in Ricky's case, child protective services workers are supposed to first approve their placement and develop a written contract with out-of-state social workers to continue to monitor the children's safety. It is the California social worker's responsibility to provide a follow-up plan and make sure the out-of-state social worker follows it.
Riskin, the Los Angeles County child protective services spokesman, and representatives of other child-protective agencies said it is standard for social workers to take abuse findings to court. The judge can require oversight including background checks on guardians and regular follow-up visits.
Godinez never took her abuse findings to court, nor did she carry out the voluntary placement process. Because Ricky's case was never officially opened in court, the state's policies didn't apply, Riskin said.
With the boys removed from the house, it wasn't necessary to open a court case, Riskin said. "We can't open a case if the child is not here. ... (Morales) was still their mother and responsible for where they were placed."
However, the social worker still had the same responsibility to protect the children with or without a court case, said Bobby Parnell, a retired social worker of 20 years. Now he works with Justice For Children, a national nonprofit group that represents children in civil suits and works toward child protective reform.
The social worker could have done a background check on the Sarinanas and arranged for a home visit and monthly follow-ups, Parnell said.
"You've already discovered that the mother's decision to place the kids with the grandmother was inappropriate, so you have to scrutinize her second choice -- the uncle," he said.
"With an open investigation, they may not have been able to stop the mother from sending (Ricky) to his uncle. However, they did have an obligation to make sure the child was safe with whomever she placed him," he said.
"If you don't follow up, how do you know the child hasn't been sold into slavery or sent to axe murderers or the exact type of situation these kids ended up in? It's not just policy, it's common sense."
In Riverside County, physical abuse findings are automatically taken to court, said Jennie Pettet, the county's deputy director of children's services.
"If the kids were living with the grandmother, and we substantiated physical abuse in the home of the grandmother, we would have removed the kids from the custody of the mother," Pettet said. "You can't just assume the next place she sends them will be any safer."
Riverside protocol also requires regular follow-up visits to ensure the children's safety in their new home, along with proof of medical care and school enrollment, Pettet added. Any notification to social workers in another state would have been made in writing, she said.
'Case Closed'
Even before Ricky was sent to Washington, records show that officials there received reports of emotional abuse and neglect in the home where the Sarinanas lived with their two young children and Conrad.
In the months after Ricky arrived, neighbors, police, the boys' sister in California and a therapist working with Cathy Sarinana reported domestic violence, drug use and physical and sexual abuse.
Ricky was never enrolled in school in Washington, and few in the community even knew of him.
Friends and neighbors noticed Conrad wearing make-up to hide black eyes and bruises. Conrad told a girl in his seventh-grade class that his aunt and uncle were hitting him and that his uncle was cutting him and molesting him.
Washington social workers did not investigate a neighbor's report of neglect and emotional abuse in January 2005. They did not open an investigation again a month later when a sheriff's deputy relayed more abuse allegations.
The boys' sister, Gallardo, had called from California to report drug use and physical abuse to deputies based on strange phone calls she was receiving from Raul Sarinana and Conrad.
The report was second-hand, and a call to a counselor at Conrad's school revealed no evidence of abuse, said Stewart, the child-protective supervisor in Lewis County, Wash. That wasn't enough to warrant investigation, she said.
A counselor working with Cathy Sarinana called Lewis County's child protective services in July 2005 to report that, according to the Sarinanas, Conrad had molested Ricky. The couple told the counselor they sent Conrad back to California.
The department assumed Ricky was no longer in danger because Conrad was gone.
"When you've got a professional in the home working with the family, there is less of a safety concern," Stewart said. "The other big thing was that Conrad was no longer there."
Police believe Conrad was never sent away.
According to Corona police, Raul Sarinana later confessed that he beat Conrad severely on Aug. 22 and placed the boy in the bunk bed he shared with Ricky. By morning, Conrad was dead.
Three days later, Cathy Sarinana called the county about an at-risk youth program for her out-of-control nephew Conrad. In response, a Lewis County social worker interviewed the family for the first time.
Unable to reach them at home, social worker Bob Cordell interviewed the family in the parking lot of an am/pm minimart on Aug. 30.
The Sarinanas told Cordell they sent Conrad to relatives. Cordell's written report doesn't indicate he made an effort to confirm the boy's whereabouts.
When the social worker asked about the earlier report of sexual abuse by Conrad, Cathy Sarinana recanted.
"Some of this seems suspicious, but the CPS issue is still unfounded," Cordell wrote in his report. "Case Closed."
He never pulled Ricky aside to talk about the alleged abuse without the Sarinanas listening.
While it is policy and generally "good practice" to take those steps, it's not always possible, said Kathleen Spears, Lewis County's CPS spokeswoman.
The social worker simply wasn't in a position to interview Ricky alone or track down Conrad, said Spears. The family said they were moving to California, and this seemed like his last chance to interview them, she said.
Cordell's supervisor did not allow him to be interviewed for this story.
Even though Conrad had been accused of molesting Ricky, the department sent a letter Sept. 2 clearing Raul Sarinana of abuse allegations. When one child molests another, it can be a sign that a sexually abusive adult is in the picture, Spears said. The social worker cleared Raul Sarinana because the Sarinanas had recanted their claims of sexual abuse in the home, she said.
The family reported Conrad a runaway in October, saying he had fled with an elderly gay lover. Three days later, the family moved to Corona. Once again, Ricky was not enrolled in school.
Neighbors and servers at a Corona restaurant saw Ricky with black eyes, bruises and cuts. A grocery store employee in Norco reported seeing Raul Sarinana kicking Ricky.
Neighbors on Belle Avenue pitied the child, who sold his toys at weekend yard sales.
During the family's two-month stay in Corona, the trash can that held Conrad's body was stored in the carport, and Ricky lived in a closet.
After his death, investigators said Ricky's body showed signs of months of abuse. Scars hinted that he had been whipped with electrical cords and burned with cigarettes. Wounds on his thighs and bottom were so infected, they could have killed the child, Mark Fajardo, a forensic pathologist for the Riverside County coroner's office, testified in court. Because the wounds were so infected, it is difficult to say what caused them, he added.
Police say Raul Sarinana confessed to kicking Ricky on Christmas Day because the boy was too slow in cleaning the bathroom. He told police he carried the injured child by his belt to the closet. He said he kicked the boy one last time when he caught Ricky reaching for the doorknob as if to escape.
Common Danger
"I felt bad for the kids, but I wasn't surprised," said Nalian, the detective who intervened when the boys were babies.
Though the violence was extreme, the dangers they faced are not uncommon among the children who police and social workers help every day, he said.
The Sarinanas moved between states -- one of the many challenges social workers face when abusers try to hide, said Turner, of the Los Angeles County death review team.
"You'd be surprised how often we are left holding a piece of paper saying here are allegations of abuse, and we can't find the family, and we can't find the kids," Turner said. "They're ghosts in the night."
A national database to share information among states could help fill cracks in the system and save lives, she said.
Ten children died of abuse in Los Angeles County in 2005 despite the intervention of social workers. Ricky and Conrad are not included in the statistic because they were killed elsewhere.
Nationwide, 40 percent to 50 percent of abuse fatalities involve children who received child protective services, said James Shields, director of Justice for Children.
"That's just too many," he said.
The California legislature has identified overworked social workers as the major problem. Los Angeles County, the nation's largest child protective agency, has 3,000 case workers responding to roughly 9,400 to 13,500 reports of abuse monthly. The average Los Angeles County emergency response caseworker handles 21 cases each month compared with Riverside County's average of 18.5 cases each month.
The Los Angeles County caseload is down significantly from two years ago when the department was last involved with Ricky and Conrad, said Riskin, the department's spokesman.
The county is also hiring 500 people in an ambitious effort to reduce caseloads even further, he said.
Assemblywoman Bass spearheaded an ongoing $50 million statewide hiring effort to reduce workloads. California also is seeking federal funding to further reduce caseloads, she said.
The Washington Division of Children and Family Services is reforming its procedure for handling abuse cases after audits that showed inconsistencies in the quality of investigations around the state. The department has focused on reducing response times and plans to adopt the same standardized case methods being used in California and several other states.
But for Gallardo, the boys' oldest sister, there are no excuses. After her brothers were killed, she covered the walls of her apartment with mementos -- baby pictures and grinning class photos.
"I don't want this to happen to any other kids," she said. "It's so frustrating, because I could tell something was wrong, and I called police, and I tried to get help, but no one would do anything. No one would help my brothers."
Gallardo said she blames child protective services for not checking to make sure Ricky was safe in Washington.
"If they did their jobs, I don't think my brothers would be dead," she said.
'Violence Happens'
Raul Sarinana has a buzz cut, salt-and-pepper stubble and watery brown eyes. Tattoos peeking out from his jail-issue jumpsuit identify him as a member of Big Hazard, a gang from his native Ramona Gardens housing project in East Los Angeles.
Violence, he said with a shrug, is inevitable and child abuse is part of growing up in the Sarinana family. In a jail interview, he said he accepted custody of his sister's boys to save them from the violent childhood he experienced.
When he talked about the abuse, his body shook.
"They use you and abuse you in whatever way, shape and form that they can," he said. "It's just the way that not only I grew up, but others, too. It's just the way society has it, and there is nothing any social worker can do about it."
The youngest of five children, Sarinana said he had no one to save him when he was a child.
In Conrad and Ricky's case, social workers didn't do much, but it wouldn't have made a difference if they had investigated, he concluded. They would have seen good things -- a happy family that took trips to the river to have barbecues and water gun fights, he said.
Violence is unpredictable, he added.
"You're sitting at dinner, and -- Bam! Violence happens," he said. "You're watching football, and -- Bam! Violence. You're at a barbecue -- Bam! Violence."
Sarinana recanted the confession he made to Corona police. He insisted that he tried to save Conrad and Ricky.
"I loved my nephews. I would have done anything for them, but my hands were tied," he said. "My hands were tied even before they came to live with me. ... All Ricky ever wanted was to be loved.
"I tried to help him."
Corona Detective Jeff Edwards paints a different picture. On the day of his arrest, Sarinana described his nephews as a burden, Edwards said during a court hearing.
According to Edwards, Sarinana asked, "Who cares about these kids? Nobody cared about them when they were dumped on me."
When Sara Eyerman of northern California was nineteen-months-old, child protective services was concerned that she wasn't growing fast enough. So they "erred on the side of the child" and placed Sara in a "specialized" foster home.
About six weeks later, Sara began running a 105 degree fever. But the "specialists" in the specialized foster home decided it was o.k. to wait two days before taking her to a doctor. On the way to the doctor's office, Sara Eyerman died of viral pneumonia.
"She should have been in the hospital two days earlier when she had a 104.8 [degree] temperature," said Sara's mother, Angie. "When she was home, she went to the emergency room if her temperature got over 101. I didn't care if they laughed at me when I got there or not. One time I took her when she was cutting a tooth ... I kept her alive for a year and seven months. They had her for six weeks and three days and she died.
China Marie Davis 20-month-old
"Don't go, Mommy. I love you."
About a week before she died, Caprice Reid's mother saw her daughter for the last time. The little girl clung to her mother's neck and said "Don't go, Mommy. I love you.
China Marie Davis was placed in foster care in Arizona when she was a little over a year old. Someone decided to "put the child first" and take her from her parents. They made a "child focused" decision. They "erred on the side of the child."
Ten months later, China Marie Davis' autopsy revealed two broken collarbones, a broken left arm, a broken right rib, two fractures of the left upper arm, a fracture of the right upper arm, broken left wrist, a broken left hand, a broken left forearm, a broken right wrist, a broken right forearm, fractures of both thigh bones and a compression fracture of the spine.
No one suspected anything because her foster mother always dressed her in such pretty outfits.
Jamie Mayne 4-year-old
"All I have is a headstone to look at instead of his beautiful face."
When child protective services took four-year-old Jamie Mayne from his father, they never bothered to tell his mother, Marie Panos, who was not living with the man.The mother was never accused of abusing or neglecting the boy.But after she found out about the removal two days later and offered to care for him, authorities in California refused. They decided to make a "child focused" decision, to "put the child first," to "err on the side of the child" by placing Jamie with a stranger.
"I went up to them to get my children, and they said they're in the system now and I had to do a case plan in order to get my kids back," Panos said.
But a jury in Visalia, California found that while Panos was working on her "case plan," Jamie was being tortured and murdered by his foster mother.He died of a collapsed heart, a ruptured small bowel and an abdominal hemorrhage.There were more than 40 bruises on his body."It's hard because I can't pick him up and kiss him," Panos said at the foster mother's trial."All I have is a headstone to look at instead of his beautiful face.
Zachary Commissaris 20-month-old
Whatcom County baby beaten to death -February 6, 2005
BELLINGHAM, Wash. - The pain is unbearable for Christina Kuoppala. Her little nephew, Zachary Commissaris, was apparently beaten to death, four months shy of his second birthday.
"I actually slept with his clothes last night so I could smell him . that's how much I loved him," she said.
The family said doctors told them Zachary was likely beaten, strangled, dragged on the ground, shaken and ultimately killed by a massive blow to the back of his head.
"He had cuts from head to toe on his ears, eyes, nose. He had a cut on his hand that looked like he was protecting himself," said Kuoppala.
Police say a 29-year-old friend of the boy's family brought the boy, unconscious, to the emergency room of Bellingham's St. Joseph Hospital Friday afternoon. Doctors called police but the man disappeared before they arrived.
The man had been watching Zachary for four days because the boy's parents had been evicted from their home. Exactly what happened over the course of those four days is still unclear, but the results are brutally obvious.
"He barely had begun to live and somebody took his life away. It's not fair, it's you know, a monster," said Kuoppala.
In his death, little Zach helped save the life of another child by donating a vital organ.
Police are refusing to name the man who dropped Zach off at the hospital in Bellingham. They are calling him a "person of interest" and hope to talk to him soon.
Deputies served a search warrant at the man's home, and questioned several people, including his girlfriend, the boy's parents and other family members.
A second child belonging to the man and his girlfriend was placed with Child Protective Services.
06:27 AM PST on Monday, February 7, 2005 By ERIC WILKINSON / KING 5 News and Wire Reports The Associated Press contributed to this report.
Baby Charles 7-month-old
Foster Mom Arrested in Baby Charles Case
The foster mother of a baby boy who died from head trauma has been arrested. Las Vegas Metro police, in a news release, says Melanie Ochs was arrested for "murder by child abuse."
Channel 8's I-Team was there when the suspect was arrested Thursday afternoon.
Ochs was the foster mother of 7-month-old Baby Charles who died at University Medical Center two months ago.
Originally, Ochs claimed Baby Charles slipped in the tub and denied hurting the infant. But a coroner's report says his injuries were no accident.
Metro's Lt. Brian Evans said, "A lot of time in these child abuse cases, the offending parent doesn't mean to harm the child. It's one of those thing where they may be tired, may be frustrated, going through financial difficulties and you have a crying child and they don't know how to deal with them."
After his death, Metro launched an investigation and the coroner's office said the baby was murdered. He died from blunt force trauma to the head, but investigators say they don't know exactly how the baby was hurt.
Investigators say Melanie Ochs was the only adult in the home when Baby Charles was injured. She was arrested at her home Thursday and charged with murder by child abuse.
At the time of the boy's death, the foster family had two other children in their home. They have been put into protective custody. Baby Charles was placed in Ochs' home when he was only three days old.
Ochs has no criminal history.
Her husband has not been charged.
There have been 43 child deaths investigated by Metro police in 2006 out of which six have been deemed murder by child abuse.
A DCFS licensing worker failed to ensure that a foster home had working smoke detectors. The worker rushed a licensing inspection because "the foster mother was in a hurry," an investigative report stated. The three children died after a fire July 19, 2000, that destroyed the home. After the fire, a second licensing worker employed by DCFS told an investigator that she "was unfamiliar as to how to check (smoke detectors) to find out if they are operational." A state fire marshal's probe concluded that the home had no smoke detectors. "The worker's admitted failure to check for fire hazards in the home may have cost three children their lives," the inspector general concluded.
DCFS DISCIPLINE: Faced with discipline, the second licensing worker resigned. A child protection investigator received counseling.
Tina Winston 11-year-old
Died July 10, 2000 Palatine,IL
Two staff members at a residential facility for developmentally disabled children used by DCFS attempted to restrain Tina. The girl was extremely disruptive and took psychotropic medication. But the workers were unfamiliar with the restraint -- a choke hold -- and Tina died. Her death prompted four pages of recommendations from the inspector general about how to deal with children who are mentally disabled.
DCFS DISCIPLINE: None
Ganis
Christian Ganis, 1-year-old
MaKayla Ganis, 2-year-old
Isaiah Ganis, 3-year-old
Could DHS have done anything?
Christian, his older brother and older sister died in a house fire after their mother left them alone for nearly an hour.
Their grandparents blame the state Department of Human Services for the 2003 tragedy. Agency officials deny wrongdoing
Last year, a lawsuit over the deaths was quietly settled for $370,000, records show.
The agency paid $200,000, two private child-welfare agencies paid $135,000 and the church that owned the house paid $35,000.
About $105,000 of the agency's share of the settlement will go to a nonprofit organization to prevent child abuse. None of the money went to the children's mother or father.
The grandparents claim state welfare workers knew the mother was neglecting the children but failed to seek their removal.
"With all the red flags that were up, they should have done something sooner," said grandfather Donald Wayne Ganis, 51, of Oregon. "The system back there failed us as a family. ... I get angry about it every day."
The paternal grandparents collected about $85,000 from the settlement, after taking out attorney fees, legal costs and the share that is to go to a nonprofit group.
"It was an insult," the grandfather said of the settlement. "We would have been satisfied with just a formal, written apology, but that never happened. And it never will happen. They won't admit that they made a mistake."
The case is one of the most heartbreaking examples of a frequent criticism of the agency ? that the state agency that is supposed to protect children too often leaves them in harm's way.
Christian Ganis, Isaiah Ganis, 3, and MaKayla Ganis, 2, died the night of Aug. 7, 2003, in a house fire that grew into an inferno while their mother smoked a cigarette at a neighbor's house. The mother was then 24. The father had moved out months earlier, and her new boyfriend was away.
The mother, Sarah L. Ganis, is serving a 40-year prison sentence for child neglect.
Sarah Ganis said she could hear Christian crying as she tried to rescue her children.
"I have made some mistakes. I might've made some bad choices but ... I would never put harm upon my children," she said at her trial.
Records show a human services agency worker and private child-welfare workers checked on the children repeatedly in the weeks before their deaths because of complaints from the father and grandparents.
The state agency worker reported finding serious problems with the mother's care.
The agency worker in one visit to the mother's home found it cluttered with trash, toys and clothes, with roaches on the walls and flies swarming over Christian's dirty, wet bed. The mother tried to hide a marijuana bong.
Day care workers told the agency the children often were dirty, and the older children mimicked sex acts.
The grandparents' attorney, Pat Cantrell, said the agency worker also is at fault for missing obvious signs that methamphetamine was being made in the mother's home.
Agency officials say workers cannot directly remove children.
However, they can, working through prosecutors, seek a judge's order to get the children removed. In this case, they chose to get Sarah Ganis counseling and services.
The grandparents then lived in Ardmore and said they would have gladly kept the children if a judge had taken them from their mother.
"I was scared for those babies," said the grandmother, Ethel Ganis, 51. "If DHS had done their job, they'd be alive. ... Now, they're with Jesus ... but why did they have to go through that?"
The children's father, Donald Joseph Ganis, had considered not returning the kids when they visited with him. He told the Ardmore newspaper in 2003 it led to fights with their mother that upset the children.
"She would yell, kick at the doors, pound on the windows," he said.
The agency faced paying up to $525,000 over the deaths. It agreed to pay $200,000 "just to bring some closure to it," human services attorney Joseph Strealy said. "There was no admission of liability from our part."
The agency's share of the settlement came from a risk fund every state agency pays into. Agency officials stipulated that none of its share go to the mother or the father.
Department of Human Services Director Howard Hendrick referred questions about the case to an attorney. Last month, Hendrick said, "Child welfare is inherently complicated and exposes all persons involved ... to the life and death consequences of the work involved. Hindsight is perfect."
The agency's attorney, Strealy, said the mother had cleaned up after agency visits, and agency workers at one point thought the father was going to keep the children but he didn't. The attorney also said agency workers face lawsuits no matter what they do.
"We get sued whether you take the baby right away or you don't take the baby, so that's the difficulty there," he said.
Also settling was High Pointe HealthCare, based in Oklahoma City, and Community Children's Shelter, the groups that arranged for a private social worker to visit the home three times. High Pointe paid $75,000. Community paid $60,000.
The state agency hired High Pointe to provide home-based services to mothers like Ganis. High Pointe in turn paid Community Children's Shelter for the actual case workers who did those services in Ardmore.
High Pointe's attorneys said the private worker visited the home three times and found no serious problems. The grandparents' attorneys alleged the private worker was incompetent and missed evidence of neglect, like the gargoyle marijuana bong and marijuana pipes recovered after the fire.
"We didn't admit any wrongdoing," said High Pointe's attorney, James Secrest.
The burned home's owner, Emmanuel Baptist Church, paid $35,000. It allegedly did not have working smoke detectors in the house. The family had moved into the church's house shortly before the fire.
Experts differed on the cause of the fire, which started in a bedroom closet. Prosecutors suggested the mother could have accidentally started it while smoking.
The children's bodies were recovered after the house burned.
This is one in a continuing series of reports by The Oklahoman about the state Department of Human Services. The agency has more than 7,500 employees and manages a $1.6 billion budget. It is responsible for caring for children, the elderly and underprivileged.
Background
State child-welfare workers had repeated contacts with Isaiah Ganis, 3, MaKayla Ganis, 2, and Christian Ganis, 1, before they died in a house fire Aug. 7, 2003, but never sought to remove them from their mother.
Here is some of what agency and court records show:
?A Department of Human Services worker made an unannounced visit at the mother's house April 29, 2003. The worker reported finding Christian alone in a playpen on the porch while the mother cooked and the other children watched TV. Christian had a dirty face.
?There was little food there, no milk, no baby formula but two half-full bottles of alcohol in the freezer and an almost full carton of cigarettes.
?On the floor were screws, batteries, marbles, a plastic bag and small toys that a child could easily choke on.
?In the baby's room was a board with "numerous nails down two sides."
?Parts of the house were so cluttered with clothes or toys there was little room to walk.
?The mother was unemployed.
?Two hours later that day the mother had cleaned up the choking hazards and some clutter and bought milk.
Things got worse
Day care employees told the DHS worker on July 2, 2003, that the children often came in stinking and dirty. One worker said she bathed Christian daily. Workers also said Isaiah and MaKayla had been caught mimicking sex acts with each other.
Little Blessings Daycare's director said, "The kids are sweet ... and cute ... but ... they are not being cleaned properly and they are learning about sex from somewhere."
The DHS worker went to the mother's house on July 2, 2003:
?Flies were found throughout the house and roaches crawling on the walls.
?Dirty dishes were in both sinks, on the counter and on the stove and trash was on the counter, stove and kitchen floor.
?There was limited food and no milk, but a quarter bottle of whiskey was in the freezer.
?The older children's beds had no sheets.
?Clothes ? described by the mom as clean ? stank of urine.
?Christian's bed had dirty, wet sheets, swarming with flies. A baby bottle leaked onto a pillow.
?The mother's bedroom was cluttered with clothes and the mother tried to hide a big brown marijuana bong. The mother said it was her estranged husband's and that it didn't even have water. The mother then shook it and water splashed on her and the DHS worker. Two marijuana pipes also were in the house.
?The mother was instructed to clean up and take parenting classes. She was signed up for services through a private child welfare organization hired by DHS.
?On July 7, 2003, the children wore dirty clothes and had rashes when they underwent medical exams.
Staff Writer Nolan Clay
Islam Elkaryoncey 12-year-old
12 Year Old Boy Kills Himself When Court Mandates Visit With Abusive Father - Mother Wants His Memory to Have Meaning Towards Changing the System
On Tuesday, October 25, 2005, Islam Elkaryoncey, a twelve year old boy hung himself, choosing death over the prospect of a court mandated visitation with his father. The tragedy of his death is overshadowed by the tragedy of his life, which was fraught with violence at the hands of an abusive father and the unwillingness of the courts to protect him.
According to Danielle Lough's advocate, Sandra Ramos, who is the Founder and Executive Director ofStrengthen Our Sisters shelter for battered women and children, Danielle and her three young sons lived in terror for several years. Not only were the children subjected to witnessing their mother being brutally beaten repeatedly by their father, but they were themselves were victims of his wild abuse. In August of 1998, Danielle confided with a friend that she feared for her children's lives, after her oldest son Islam had been hung upside down in a twisted sheet and beaten with a stick on the bottoms of his feet by his father. Her friend called Sandra Ramos and Strengthen Our Sisters took in the distraught mother and her children. Shortly after their arrival to the shelter, Danielle applied for and was granted a restraining order and believed she and her children would finally be protected. However, an appeal was filed by the father and the court ordered unsupervised visitation, despite Danielle's pleas to have these visits monitored.
All too often, the children would come back from the visitations with bumps and bruises, obviously disturbed and begging not to have to go again. This went on for years. Danielle would petition the courts seeking help for her children, showing photographs of the bruises and would request supervised visitation, which would be granted but then always overturned when the father and his expensive attorney would go to the court and protest. At one point Islam, at the age of 8, who was the recipient of the most extreme abuse, experienced a breakdown and spent 19 days at St. Clare's Hospital in Denville, NJ. The psychiatrist's report to the court stated Islam was experiencing post-traumatic stress disorder, attention deficit disorder, and extreme depression from the abuse he had experienced and witnessed over the years.
Finally, in May 2005, the judge mandated psychiatric evaluations for the entire family to determine whether the children should be forced to continue visitations with their father. Danielle and her three sons heartily embraced this opportunity to have someone finally understand what they had endured and present their evaluations to the court. However, the father left the country and did not return for five months. During this time, he was served with contempt papers for failing to comply with the ordered psychological evaluation. His excuse was that he had only expected to be gone for two weeks, to tend to his ailing mother (who according to Danielle he had previously declared dead to the INS in 1994, when he wanted to leave the country and be able to return), but that he had been further delayed due to a car accident. He had also testified in another courtroom, two weeks prior to leaving the country, that he was anxious to get the evaluation over with, as he was planning on being away for several months. On July 18, 2005 the judge called the family back into court to assess the evaluations, but since the father was still in Egypt, he ordered his parenting visitation time suspended, stating his reasons were based on the father's contempt, and on his assessment and review of the psychiatrist letter to the court. This letter stated the children had clearly been subjected to abuse and that they should be able to make their own choices about visitation. The letter also stated that the judges formal recommendation would take place after he actually had the opportunity to meet with the father.
On September 8, 2005, the father asked the judge to vacate the order of July 18, 2005, at which time the judge stated he would review all orders and documentation on October 21, 2005.
After leaving the shelter, Danielle met and married her current husband and gave birth to another son. Danielle, her husband and her children longed to move away from the area and go to Kansas where Danielle had grown up, and where there were supportive relatives. On October 7, 2005, Danielle put in a request to the court to relocate with children to Kansas City, at which time the judge arbitrarily vacated the July 18, 2005 order and mandated supervised visitation for the father, despite the fact that he did not yet have a full report. Danielle's attorney protested and said that no visitation should be granted until the court had the full psychiatric profile of the father. The judge denied his appeal.
Danielle reported that when she broke the news to her children that they would have to see their father, she assured them that the visit would be supervised. The two younger boys protested but then reluctantly agreed. Islam; however, was beside himself and kept saying that they can't make me see him. She said he was extremely agitated over the next few days, so she called the psychiatrist's office to ask that he intervene and make an appeal to the judge, on behalf of her son. Regrettably, before any of this could happen, Islam went into his room the next day and hung himself, choosing death over the prospects of being forced to be with his torturer.
Hesia Rosenberg, Director of the Circle of Life Organization, has been working tirelessly to help make the public more aware of what the courts are not doing to protect children like Islam. "I have received letters from Florida to Washington, Texas and Tennessee and they continue to pour in. New Jersey is not an isolated state when it comes to corruption. All states are amassed with judicial and legal corruption, and we have to stop it." She recommended that people watch a new PBS documentary scheduled to air on November 20, 2005, entitled "Breaking the Silence", to educate themselves on this national scandal of how the courts are neglecting their duty to protect our most vulnerable, abused women and children.
In 2000, Jill Soderman was a volunteer at Strengthen Our Sisters. She was a licensed therapist and clinical social worker, having over 33 years experience as a non-biased expert witness in many domestic violence cases in New York and New Jersey. Jill attempted to intervene, on behalf of Danielle's children, after interviewing them in the presence of their father. She reported to the court at that time that she felt the children were in grave danger. After reporting such, Jill was harassed on a daily basis by receiving hundreds of phone calls with male voices, muttering in a language she did not understand. This harassment continued, as she persisted in trying to get help for the children, when her house suddenly burned down. Though the perpetrator was never found, she was told by police and firemen that it had clearly been a case of arson. Ironically, the house where Danielle and her children lived was also burned down.
Jill Soderman is currently involved in a second doctoral program involving forensic evaluation and psychoanalysis cases, with particular emphasis on the role of the expert witness. She originally saw the children with Danielle, while they were residing at the shelter and had lined up many witnesses, such as teachers and principles, as well as friends. Jill was never allowed to testify in court, nor was her witnesses, some of whom claimed to have been threatened as well. Instead, she was discredited and so was Danielle by a court appointed evaluator, who claimed that the children had been brainwashed. According to Jill, this evaluator remained a protagonist of the father throughout many of the court hearings, though he was never subpoenaed. It was his claims that brought the Division of Youth and Family Services (DYFS) into the case. DYFS did not want to accept custody of the children and so transferred custody to the father, who brought them back to their mother after three weeks, claiming they were incorrigible. It was at this time that Islam had a breakdown and was brought to St. Clare's Hospital in Denville, NJ, claiming that he and his brothers had been beaten and brutalized by his father, while in his care.
Jill claims she was convinced she had to help the children after her extended interview with them. In the presence of their father, he would read the Koran aloud while the children talked to Jill about the abuse, which included being put into suitcases and beaten. On one occasion, she witnessed their mother bringing them for a mandated weekend visit with their father, who was waiting in a car outside with another man. When the children saw him, they ran in all different directions, screaming that they did not want to go with him. The father then called the police and because of the court ordered documentation, the police had no choice but to chase the children through the streets and force them into the car with their father. Jill said that one of the policemen commented that the event should have been video tapped and presented to a judge. At that time the children were ages four, five and six.
Bereft and distraught with grief over the loss of her son, Danielle requested that Islam's father not be present at the funeral but to be permitted to visit the mosque at a private time. The same judge who ordered the dreaded visitation said he would put in an order to suspend visitation with the other two children. However, a new judge stepped in to take over the case and said the father would be allowed full participation in the funeral.
Danielle also stated that she wants the memory of her son to mean something. She wants the court to be held accountable, so that the tragedy of Islam's life and his death will inspire others into action, in order to protect other children from the same fate. She said the judges and the courts had all the information before them. "They must be exposed because they dropped the ball and now my son is dead."
Those wishing to help can send tax-deductible donations toward desperately needed funeral expenses to Strengthen Our Sisters, marking the envelope "Islam Fund" and send to POB U, Hewitt, NJ. People wishing further information or who wish to share their own stories can contact the Circle of Life Organization at 908-362-9526 or Strengthen Our Sisters at 973-728-0777 and ask for Sandra Ramos.
Jeremy Celentano 14-month-old
For 14-month-old Jeremy Celentano, nearly every day of life was a struggle.
Born addicted to cocaine and heroin, he was cared for in foster homes for the first year of his life as he recovered from the drugs. Friends hoped his fortunes would change for the better after his father won custody in July.
Instead, Jeremy is dead - beaten so brutally his skull was split. And charged with murder is his father, Darren Celentano of Paterson, described by authorities as a hardworking, steadfast man who apparently exploded in rage under the pressures of parenthood.
Meanwhile, the boy's death has prompted yet another internal review at the state Division of Youth and Family Services, which had been monitoring him. A DYFS official contended Friday that his agency had argued against the boy being turned over to his father.
Celentano, 28, of Grand Street, is under suicide watch at St. Mary's Hospital in Passaic, Passaic County Prosecutor James Avigliano said Friday. He was arrested late Thursday, and Avigliano said Celentano gave authorities a confession on videotape.
Jeremy, suffering from several physical ailments, would not stop crying on Monday, police said Celentano told them. The father lost his temper, police said, and allegedly pounded the boy with closed fists until he stopped breathing.
Jeremy suffered a fracture across the top of the skull, and a smaller one in the back of his head. He also had bruises and cuts on his face and head, including a black eye, according to the prosecutor.
"The father completely lost it," said Avigliano, visibly upset by the autopsy photos. "He just went berserk."
Instead of dialing 911, Celentano initially called his mother, who had routinely helped him care for the boy, and told her what he had done, Avigliano said. Celentano then brought Jeremy's lifeless body to St. Joseph's Regional Medical Center in Paterson, the prosecutor continued, and the staff there called authorities on Tuesday morning. Avigliano declined to say how long the boy had been dead before he was brought to the hospital, or what the circumstances were surrounding his arrival at St. Joseph's.
Celentano was remorseful, Avigliano said, and his distraught behavior during and after his statement prompted authorities to make sure he was placed at St. Mary's for observation.
Little is known about Jeremy's mother, whose name has not been released. Authorities said she was a drug addict, and because of her severe addiction Jeremy had been turned over for state care at birth. But Darren Celentano petitioned the family court for custody several months ago.
He won his case on July 26 when a state judge in Paterson turned the boy over to him. Those court records remained sealed on Friday. Leah Bourne, the attorney who represented Jeremy's mother in family court, declined to comment Friday, saying only, "I'm sorry. We can't help you."
Darren Celentano could be arraigned on a charge of murder as early as Monday, authorities said. If found guilty, he would face 30 years to life in prison. Celentano has had no past run-ins with the law, according to state criminal records.
Because the boy had been under DYFS care, Andy Williams, a spokesman for the state Department of Human Services, said the child welfare agency will do its own review of his death.
DYFS records show, Williams said, that the state did not want Jeremy turned over to his father, but it lost that bid in court. Williams said the agency "didn't feel he was ready" to care for Jeremy, who had been in foster homes for medically fragile children.
"Our long-term goal was to reunify the child with the father," Williams said. "But we didn't feel he was ready to handle the child alone."
He said DYFS asked that the father undergo a psychiatric evaluation, but that the court felt otherwise, given Celentano's upstanding background.
Celentano was receiving a monthly stipend to care for Jeremy as well as some in-home care services. Since the summer, DYFS workers said, they had visited once a month and reported nothing irregular. Sept. 12 was the last in-home visit. Jeremy died before an October visit was scheduled.
Jeremy's death follows several recent reports urging further change in the way the state cares for at-risk children.
DYFS came under fire in January 2003 when the body of 7-year-old Faheem Williams, whose family was under the agency's supervision, was discovered in Newark. A state report later found that nearly a year before his body was found in a basement, a DYFS caseworker and her supervisor closed his case without making contact with him. The caseworker had more than 100 children under her care.
The Williams case accelerated an overhaul of child welfare, including the state's pledge to lower caseloads by hiring more workers, improving training and revamping the way cases are managed and closed. But just this week in a report, advocates said more work needs to be done.
Neighbors and friends described Celentano as a quiet, considerate man who worked long hours. At one point, he told them he was working two jobs, but did not talk about his work, the neighbors said.
Jeremy's mother would show up at the Grand Street apartment building where she used to live with Celentano. Just Saturday, she stopped by the Laundromat next door to leave two plastic bags full of shoes, jeans and other items, said Gregorio Sanchez, a Laundromat employee and friend of Celentano's. Neighbors did not know her name.
"She left them here with me and said she'd come back in an hour, but she never did," Sanchez said.
Sanchez and others said she and Celentano separated several months ago.
Celentano's landlady, who asked that her name not be published, described an ideal tenant who seldom made noise, paid his rent punctually and kept a tidy living space.
In the period between having dropped his son off at the hospital and his eventual arrest, Celentano apparently returned home.
"He was so upset when he came down to the Laundromat to talk to me that night," his landlady said. "He said, 'My baby died today and I just can't cry anymore.' He seemed very depressed."
She said news that Celentano had been charged with the boy's death was hard to fathom. To those who knew him, Celentano seemed to relish fatherhood: Often he took his son for rides in his red Ford Explorer or played with him outside the apartment building, neighbors said.
"You don't know how happy he was when he got custody from the court," the landlady said.
But Avigliano said Celentano found himself alone and overwhelmed.
"He was trying to do what he later found was impossible for him," Avigliano said.
Alberta fires social worker, promises changes, after baby deaths
An unnamed Alberta social work supervisor has been fired after an investigation into the deaths of twin baby girls.
The three-month-old twins were in the custody of their grandfather, who was driving them from northern Alberta to Ontario. The grandfather, Jerome Kerrigan, has been charged with criminal negligence causing death.
The report says the girls should never have been transferred into Kerrigan's care. The review panel found there was no formal investigation done into Kerrigan's suitability as a parent, in spite of the fact the province was turning over three children into his care. Two of those children, Shaniece and Angel Kerrigan-Kinahan, died in a motel room in Thunder Bay, Ont. halfway through a cross-country road trip in January. The report does not deal with how the infants died. Instead it examines how Kerrigan was given custody and why his travel plans weren't scrutinized.
Kerrigan, was driving the children from Slave Lake, Alberta, to their new home in Ontario when his car broke down. It was a cold night, and there was no heat in the car.
Kerrigan says he bundled up the babies and waited three hours for a tow truck to arrive. It took another two hours to get to Thunder Bay, where Kerrigan got a motel room. He then gave the babies a hot bath, fed them each a bottle, and put them to bed. The next morning, a motel employee found the twins in the room. Kerrigan was charged with criminal negligence.
Iris Evans, Alberta's minister of children's services, lays most of the blame on the social work supervisor who agreed to the arrangements.
"The supervisor demonstrated serious errors in judgment and failed to meet a reasonable standard of performance. Her actions reflected a significant departure from what would be expected of a prudent social worker in these circumstances," said Evans.
A second social worker on the case will be forced to take retraining.
The investigation also found policy changes are needed in the area of private guardianship where a relative steps in to take care of children in foster care.
Evans says 15 changes will be made to the rules to ensure guardians are better screened. But the findings don't appease Alberta's opposition parties.
Both Liberals and the New Democrats say too much blame is being directed at front line workers, and not enough at the minister in charge.
Nixzmary Brown 7-year-old
The Tragic Death of Nixzmary Brown
How can we fix the system that failed her?
The tragic child abuse death of 7-year-old Nixzmary Brown has grabbed the headlines. According to the New York Daily News, her case is made all the more horrible because ACS (Administration for Children's Services) had received two reports about her, had investigated once, and had dismissed charges of child abuse.
The article quotes Mayor Bloomberg as describing Nixzmary's death as a "great tragedy." He also said that ". . . Overall, ACS does a very good job." I suspect that he's right. The mayor seems to be indicating that he does not plan to make ACS an easy political scapegoat, but intends a thorough and intelligent investigation.
"Heads Will Roll!"
This is a tragic and emotional case. Public sentiment will be running high; some people will be calling for blood. In view of the suffering, it may seem strange to be calling for calm. But that is what we need. We need to channel our anger and outrage into a grim determination for real answers and real improvements.
With emotions running high, officials may feel pressured into establishing a political scapegoat -- fire someone publicly, satisfy the people, the media loses interest, and nothing really changes. We have to resist that. We need to tell the mayor and other officials that we have the desire and the patience for a real investigation -- one that asks tough questions, provides some real answers, and faces unpleasant facts.
As officials investigate how the system failed the little girl, I offer some questions we should insist on getting answers to.
Case Load
We all agree that New York City is a pretty big place. So the first question is, how many people does ACS have on the job? Don't be satisfied with a total; ask for details. How many investigators, how many case workers, does ACS have on the streets? Do caseworkers do investigations and case management, or are they separate tasks? How much training do new caseworkers get? How much training does ACS wish they could get?
Second question: how many active cases is ACS investigating? Again, insist on details. How many new reports of abuse does it receive in a month? How many ongoing cases do they have to keep up on? How many are quick checks and how many are involved and time-consuming? What is the average number of cases that each caseworker has to handle per week?
Usually, when you do some simple math, you find that each caseworker has a ridiculous number of cases to fit into a regular workweek. But we're not done! Child abuse is one of most under-reported crimes in the world. Get some experts to make some informed estimates on how many unreported child abuse cases exist in New York City, and think about how to factor that into the caseworkers' workload.
After we consider all of those numbers, then we can reflect on how likely it is that every child abuse report will get the kind of attention it deserves.
The Reporting Network
In the case of Nixzmary Brown, it appears that the reporting network functioned adequately, because ACS received two reports on her situation. But as the case is investigated, we need to find out the quality of the reporting network.
How well trained are the Mandated Reporters? Does everyone know what to look for, and what to do when they see something? We also need to take a good look at the two reports received by ACS. How detailed were they? How much information was in them? Did they convey the urgency of the situation, or were they unclear or vague enough to get buried under a pile of other paperwork?
We should also look into the number of reports. Should there have been more than two? Did other people see signs of abuse and not know how to report it? And if ACS had received more than two reports, would it have improved their response?
Don't get me wrong -- two reports should have been plenty. But we're talking about one of the biggest cities in the world, with dozens of unique challenges and a perpetual shortage of funding. Improving the reporting network, educating the average citizen on how to report, might be a low-cost way of building some safeguards into the system. After all, medical examiners said Nixzmary's abuse had gone on for years. If ACS had received ten or twenty reports, each from a different source, it might have helped.
The Investigation
Child welfare authorities had dismissed charges of abuse against Nixzmary's parents. Let's get details about the investigation. We have already discussed case load and training factors. So how many people investigate a report of abuse? How experienced were they, and how much training had they received? Who did they talk to?
According to the New York Daily News, Nixzmary was learning English. If the investigators interviewed Nixzmary's mother, could the mother speak English? If not, did the investigators have access to qualified interpreters? How did the investigators feel about the quality of the investigation at the time?
Legal Considerations
We also need to inquire about the authority of the ACS investigators. How much power do they have? Is it enough? How far can they push an investigation against an uncooperative parent? If search warrants or anything similar are required, how easy are they to obtain? The Daily News reports that Nixzmary's stepfather had a previous assault charge. Do ACS investigators receive adequate protection when they investigate a complaint?
What about the burden of proof ACS investigators have to meet? Is it reasonable, or is the bar set too high? Do the ACS workers have suggestions on changes that would make the system work more smoothly? Is there a weak point or bottleneck somewhere in the system that we could identify and address?
Army Benefits
Remember, some years ago, when there was a rash of shootings at Post Office locations? The term "going postal" has entered our vocabulary, even though subsequent studies have shown that post offices are statistically safer than the average workplace.
I mention this because the Daily News reports that Nixzmary's stepfather is an Army veteran. This is not the first time I have heard of child abuse or domestic violence crimes committed by Army veterans, especially those who were in combat. So we need to ask. Are Army veterans really more likely to commit these crimes, or is it another "postal" thing where reality is different from the perception?
I don't know a whole lot about this subject, but I have seen a few statistics that indicate that our country does a very poor job of taking care of the men and women who have risked their lives for us. If the statistics support the perception, then how can we work with the military to address it?
Covering the Boroughs
As we said, New York City is a big place. How is ACS organized to cover the city? Does Nixzmary's Bed-Stuy neighborhood receive the same level of service as all of the rest? Again, insist on facts and numbers, not perceptions and opinions. Try to quantify things as much as possible. If Bed-Stuy is under-served, then by how much? And what will it take to fix things?
Progress, not scapegoating
These are only some of the questions that need to be asked in this investigation. The most important thing is to insist on an intelligent, in-depth report, not a superficial cover story or blame game. There is going to be a tendency to point fingers at ACS. There is going to be a tendency for ACS to become defensive. But what we need right now is for everyone to work together. We need strong leadership to keep everyone focused on cooperating to improve things.
If we let them, some of the best information, and some of the most important suggestions and ideas, will come from the ACS workers themselves. They have the experience and expertise; they have been committed to helping children long before it was fashionable. Work with them, not against them.
Beyond the headlines
In the final analysis, if we have to blame anyone beyond the perpetrators, we all have to accept responsibility. Our country does a poor job of protecting our children. It is not a high priority for our society. Child safety workers have to contend with public indifference, low status, low pay, unreasonable workloads, and few resources.
Now, as we watch the reporting on Nixzmary Brown's wake, remember how you feel. As time passes, and media interest fades, remember her name. Remember how strongly you feel that "something" should be done. Remember it as the investigation continues. Remember it as people try to go for easy answers instead of fundamental change. Remember it as politicians begin to court you for your vote. Remember Nixzmary Brown and remember that there are too many other kids just like her, and remember that they all deserve justice.
Nixzmary Brown's tragic death
Author: Bill Davis (bdavis@cpusa.org ) is a retired member of Social Service Employees Union Local 371.
When 7-year-old Nixzmary Brown was killed in Brooklyn, N.Y., on the 11th of January, it was certainly a tragedy waiting to happen. It was also certain that some of the workers involved in the case would be suspended or fired. Less certain was a reorganization of the agency. This time all three occurred.
Perhaps it is because Nixzmary's was the third death of a child with a case in Brooklyn's Bedford-Stuyvesant child welfare office in recent weeks. This pattern of deaths and the particular brutality Nixzmary suffered produced a flurry of media attention.
New York Mayor Bloomberg announced Jan. 24 "a series of new initiatives," allocating more funds for children's protective services, creating or renaming several positions in his administration, "increasing supervision of child welfare workers," and providing more training for staff and services for families in need of help. Another 325 child protective workers will be hired, in addition to 200 said to be in training already. The mayor had already reversed plans to gut the Administration of Children's Service's (ACS) budget by a total of $60 million over the current and next fiscal years.
ACS Press Secretary Sheila Stainback said that although there have been cuts in the overall ACS budget in the last four years, the child protective budget has increased. She also said that since there is no civil service list for child protective workers, the new workers will be hired provisionally. The ACS web page lists openings for lawyers, technical workers, administrators and managers, but none for child protection workers.
The Bedford-Stuyvesant child welfare office that had Nixzmary's case has missed out on what many say were previous improvements in the agency. Workers within the agency and staff of Social Service Employees Union Local 371 of AFSCME, the union representing the workers, describe an office in a crisis of understaffing, big caseloads and high rates of new referrals, insufficient staff training, and low morale. While total referrals for child protective services fell, failure to replace workers has reduced child protection workers by about 10 percent in the last four years, and caseloads have risen. These long-standing problems have produced a high turnover of workers in the Brooklyn office, and slower responses to referrals.
The field director of the Brooklyn office had been promoted into management rather than fired from his entry-level child protective specialist job when it was discovered that he lacked the required college degree. A Local 371 staffer who has had little success defending workers hired without the degree said, "He must have a friend." (Last month the agency finally fired the field director for falsifying records of another child who died.)
The Bedford-Stuyvesant office covers an area whose residents are victims of racism, poverty, poor health care and deteriorated housing, as well as the related social and economic conditions. All these problems cause higher rates of drug and alcohol abuse, more domestic violence and other ills. Certainly only a small fraction of Bedford-Stuyvesant families are abusive, but even that number overwhelmed the understaffed, poorly managed office.
Part of the mayor's initiative is to "redirect $9 million in existing preventive funding this fiscal year to preventive programs for communities most in need." Bloomberg did not explain how much will go to Bedford-Stuyvesant, which is widely known to be a community "most in need," or how other areas will make up for funds redirected away from them.
A question which comes up in these situations is why no one ? no family friend, neighbor or relative ? reported the abuse even though they knew of or suspected it. Part of the reason is that the arm of the government with which the community is most familiar is the police, who many residents feel act more like an occupying army than a force to "serve and protect." Given that, another of the mayor's initiatives ? hiring "20 seasoned law enforcement professionals . who will enhance the investigatory practice in the ACS field offices" ? is unlikely to stimulate more child protective reports from concerned citizens.
There are no mayoral initiatives to improve housing, health care or education in Bedford Stuyvesant, or to provide good jobs, or meet the other needs of the community. This is why many people consider the mayor's fix-it plan to be "rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic." The next death has already happened. Quachon Browne, a 4-year-old known to Child Welfare Services, died of head and liver injuries in a cold two-room apartment on the 30th of January.
Bill Davis (bdavis@cpusa.org ) is a retired member of Social Service Employees Union Local 371.
Michael Segarra 2-month-old
ACS says the family was being monitored, but did not say why.
Meanwhile, police are investigating the death of another child in Brooklyn, also from a family with a history on record at the Administration for Children's Services.
The 2-month-old-baby was found unconscious in his crib by a neighbor. Neighbors tell say Michael Segarra's mother was asleep in the apartment at the time.
"He was cold and blue and stiff as a board," said neighbor Monique Whitfield. "So I told Melissa, -Come check the baby.' She said, -You check the baby.' I said, -I just did. I pulled the cover back; his body's not moving. Come check the baby.' She got up and she checked him, she started screaming. I start screaming."
The baby was rushed to Brookdale Hospital but died before he got there. The Medical Examiner is working to determine the cause of death.
ACS says the family was being monitored, but did not say why. At this time, there there are no accusations of wrongdoing.
Kristen Tatar 4-year-old
Girl Found In Cooler
Dead Girl's Mother Accused Before
Kristen Tatar, 4, died of malnutrition and dehydration, according to the Armstrong County coroner.
Team 4 has uncovered new information about Tatar's mother, Janet Crawford, who is charged with killing the girl. It turns out this is not the first time Crawford has been accused of neglecting a child.
Janet Crawford has three other daughters by a previous marriage. Two years ago, she lost custody of those children after repeated complaints that she was neglecting them.
Kristen Tatar was in and out of foster homes for much of her brief life, but court documents obtained by Team 4 reveal she had three half-sisters who also suffered from her mother's neglect.
Crawford was awarded joint custody of her three other daughters after she divorced Robert Crawford in 1997, but her ex-husband filed an emergency petition for custody in February 1999.
Robert Crawford said one of their daughters had missed 45 days of school and Janet Crawford had not sought appropriate medical evaluation or care for the young girl. Also, he alleged all three children were forced to sleep on the floor at Janet Crawford's house. The judge awarded the father custody of the girls during the school year.
In July 2001, a court-appointed lawyer for the children filed an emergency petition saying Janet Crawford allowed her 15-year-old daughter to have sex with a boyfriend at her house. Another daughter complained of swearing and arguing between Janet Crawford and Kristen Tatar's father, James.
The petition said Janet Crawford was neglectful and was not providing proper parental supervision, care and control. It also said there were incidents of domestic violence and anger in the home.
A judge gave the father temporary custody. In November 2001, the judge awarded the father sole custody of the three children.
But during that same period, as the judge was removing the three girls from Janet Crawford's care, the Westmoreland County Children's Bureau was allowing Crawford to get them back from foster parents -- despite complaints from foster parents that the girl was suffering while with her mother.
Lori Weimer, Kristen's former foster mother: "There needs to be major changes made. One thing they need to do, they need to start listening to the foster parents."
The Children's Bureau says it cannot comment on Kristen Tatar's case because of privacy rules.
The state Department of Public Welfare will investigate the agency's handling of Kristen Tatar. By law, the report must be completed in the next three months.
Judith Eva Barsi 10-year-old
Judith Barsi, child actress and victim...
June 6, 1978 - July 25, 1988
Judith and Maria were murdered brutally because the California CPS and Social Work department failed them! They had an overload of more than twice the recommended number of cases at the time. The system will always be flawed, but it won't always fail!
Judith Eva Barsi was an American child actress and a victim of a murder-suicide.
Judith was the daughter of Hungarian immigrants Jozsef Barsi and Maria Benko, who had both fled the 1956 Soviet occupation of Hungary and then emigrated to Los Angeles, California shortly before Judith was born. Her mother dreamt of her becoming an actress, as she once made an effort to do so for herself. When Judith was five years old, she was "discovered" at a skating rink. Looking younger than she was, she was mistaken for a three-year-old. She went on to appear in over 70 commercials and soon appeared in films.
As Judith became more famous, her father Jozsef, an alcoholic and unemployed plumber, became increasingly abusive and paranoid. He would mentally abuse Judith and once held a knife to her throat while threatening to kill her, for he was convinced that his wife and daughter would leave for a photo shoot or movie shoot and never come back. Jozsef would often stay home drunk and refused to let Maria work. The family was on welfare for a brief period until Judith's career started taking off in around 1986. By the time she entered fourth grade, she was earning an estimated $100,000 a year which helped her buy the family a four-bedroom house in West Hills, California.
Jozsef continued to remain a recluse and threatened to kill his wife and daughter hundreds of times. Child Protective Services was called numerous times. Maria rented an apartment for her and Judith as a daytime safe haven away from her father. However, on July 25, 1988, Jozsef entered Judith's bedroom and shot her in the head before shooting his wife. He then drenched the bodies in gasoline and set the house on fire before finally shooting himself in the garage.
Judith and her mother were buried in an unmarked grave at the Forest Lawn Hollywood Hills Cemetery in Los Angeles. On June 2004, a fund was set up to get them headstones for their graves. Judith's marker was placed on August 23, 2004 while one for her mother was placed on January 28, 2005. Future donations will go toward donating Beanie Babies to hospitalized children. Judiths marker reads "Our Concrete Angel - Yep Yep Yep" in referance to a popular song and her character Ducky's catchphrase from The Land Before Time. Her mother's marker reads "The wind beneath Judith's wings - Yep Yep Yep".
Holly Grace Lockard 23-month-old
I hope little Holly can rest in peace.
The "baby killer" did it, and he'll spend "life" in prison thinking about it.
A jury found James Robinson guilty of murdering his stepdaughter Friday after listening to four days of testimony.
"I hope little Holly can rest in peace," Assistant Commonwealth's Attorney Elizabeth Burchett emotionally said after the jury handed down the verdict and recommended a life sentence.
Circuit Judge Eddy Coleman closed the courtroom to the media and family members Friday morning, after Robinson caused a disturbance as he was being transported from the jail to the courtroom. Witnesses said it took six to eight deputies to get him under control.
Coleman told media representatives that Robinson didn't "need an audience."
Before the delayed proceedings began, Coleman ordered deputies to remove the jury from the courtroom if Robinson created problems again. When it was time for the penalty phase, Robinson verbally resisted being shackled to his chair in the courtroom. He gripped and pushed his chair toward the bailiff, telling him to get out of his way.
"What makes them think that I'm guilty of anything?" Robinson asked his attorney, Melissa Goodman, when he was given the opportunity to make a statement on his behalf after the verdict was handed down and the jurors were preparing to decide how much time he should serve. He said he was innocent.
The jury deliberated for more than two hours, pondering whether Robinson was innocent or guilty of murder, second-degree manslaughter, reckless homicide or complicity for each of those three charges.
The last words prior to deliberations from both the prosecution and defense painted bleak pictures of the life of 23-month old Holly Grace Lockard, who was murdered on November 2, 2005.
This week, the evidence has shown that Lockard sustained at least 26 bruises on her face, head and neck, two skull fractures, a broken arm and two broken wrists. Some of the injuries had healed or partially healed, indicating that the abuse occurred over a period of time. Kentucky Medical Examiner Christen Roth said she died because of inter-cranial bleeding, a secondary condition of blunt force trauma or shaken baby syndrome. The baby had been given Xanax and phenegren.
Attorney Melissa Goodman, blamed the child's mother, Amber Robinson, who is currently serving a life sentence for murder. She confessed to the crime and talked about it this week in court and a deputy, who spent time with her during the delivery of her last child, testified that Amber Robinson said she was going to take the fall for her husband.
Amber Robinson wanted to get an abortion when she was pregnant with Holly, Goodman said, and James Robinson, who has paid child support since he was 16, wanted to adopt the child.
Jurors heard testimony this week from a witness who saw Amber Robinson grabbing and jerking the child in 2005.
Goodman described both Holly and her sister Haley, the daughter of James Robinson, as "Daddy's babies," a term Amber Robinson used when described her husband. Goodman also reminded the jury that Amber Robinson said she "flew off the handle" and beat the child.
Referring to the prosecution's argument that Holly was abused over a period of time, Goodman told jurors that no evidence indicated that Robinson ever hit the child. She outlined the months prior to the murder to explain how busy Robinson was, dealing with the death of two family members - one that occurred the day after the couple got married. She also told the jurors about the people who saw Holly Lockard in the weeks and months before the murder.
Burchett pointed at those people when she described how the system failed Holly Lockard. Social service offices in South Carolina and Kentucky failed Holly Lockard, she said, explaining a long list of things that could have prevented the murder. That list included Robinson's decision to bring Amber Robinson and the children from South Carolina to Kentucky, against social services orders and the fact that Lisa Blevins "faked" a urine test to trick the social services. If only someone in Pike County district court would have noticed, Burchett said, that the child was "limp as a rag doll" on the day she was killed, if only Robinson hadn't drugged her, if only Amber Robinson hadn't gone to school and left the child alone with her stepfather.
Burchett told the jury that Robinson's father, Frank Robinson, who was kicked out of the courtroom earlier this week because he talked to a juror, manipulated Amber Robinson so that his son could get away with murder.
She said Amber Robinson was "dumb as a rock" and Frank Robinson, whom she called "the architect," convinced her to take the fall for his son. Frank Robinson paid attorney Robby Wright $10,000, Burchett said, and she pleaded guilty, without a plea bargain and without going over the discovery or the evidence in the case. Amber Robinson, who "richly deserves" her life sentence, thought she was getting 10 to 12 years, Burchett said.
Frank Robinson, who had 20 years of experience as a deputy coroner, called "his life-long friend and lodge brother" Mike Hall, and not the police, when Holly Lockard died, Burchett said, because he thought Hall would declare that she died from natural causes. He manipulated Amber Robinson by keeping funds for her at the jail and by bringing her daughter over to see her every weekend at the detention center. Regardless of the jury's verdict, Amber Robinson will not see her daughter again, Burchett said.
Burchett called James Robinson the "baby killer," and explained that he didn't want Holly Lockard or his wife, who he married, she said, because she was pregnant. To Robinson, the child and his wife were "extra baggage," Burchett said.
Before finally closing, Burchett held up a family portrait that the defense used to portray the "happy family."
"Look at the baby's face," she said. "Is she happy? She's terrified. She's sitting in this picture with a broken arm and the beating that's going to end her life is about to occur."
Even though Goodman officially expressed her disappointment in the jury's verdict and sentence recommendation, Goodman said they were dedicated and took the case seriously.
"At the end of the day, there is no good resolution anyway," she said, "cause little Holly Lockard did lose her life."
Robinson will be formally sentenced on March 16.
Maria Colwell 7-year-old
Maria Colwell died on 6th January 1973, aged 7.
Maria, removed from her mother's care due to neglect, had been living happily with an aunt after her father's death, but was returned to her mother at the mother's request. Despite warnings of abuse, and 30 calls to social services from neighbours, she was left in a violent household. One neighbour reported the child being hit for being dirty, and saw her at a window with a blackened face "and one eye just a pool of blood." The neighbour asked NSPCC and Social Services: "What protection does a child have against her parents? Does she have to be killed before they take her away?" In Maria's case the answer was yes. Maria was taken to hospital in a pram, after being beaten by her stepfather the night before. She was found to be dead on arrival. She had 2 bruised eyes, bruising on neck, back, arms and legs, severe internal injuries and brain damage. Her stomach was empty.
Lauren Wright 6-year-old
A life of abuse and neglect -'Ineffective' authorities failed to protect Lauren
Incompetence on the part of social services and other professional staff meant Lauren Wright, the six-year-old girl killed by her abusive stepmother and father last year, failed to receive proper protection from the authorities, an inquiry has found.
The inquiry, by the Norfolk area child protection committee (ACPC) - which took evidence from social workers and other professionals - said inter-agency coordination was "ineffective" and social workers had not acted with "due urgency".
"Staff of all agencies in Norfolk involved with Lauren Wright missed opportunities to make sense of and interpret Lauren Wright's circumstances in the light of her current and previous experiences," said the report.
Lauren's father Craig Wright and stepmother Tracey were found guilty today of manslaughter and of wilfully neglecting Lauren. The girl died when her stepmother struck her stomach so violently that her digestive system collapsed.
Postmortem tests showed the child had 60 bruises on her body, including marks made by hard objects, possibly a stick.
Gillian Shephard, Conservative MP for Norfolk south-west, which covers the village of Welney, Norfolk, where Lauren was abused and killed, called for a full public inquiry into her death.
Ms Shephard said: ""What happened to her happened in full view of those agencies that should have been responsible for her care and the public deserves to be told why."
Norfolk social services department admitted it made serious mistakes and chances to save Lauren were missed. One social services manager has already left the department as a result of the case.
David Wright, Norfolk's director of social services, admitted that his department had made "wrong" decisions, but argued this was a "clear case of human error"
He also blamed a national recruitment shortage and the pressures faced by social workers.
"How can we protect vital workers from becoming so battle-weary in dealing with these impossible situations that their judgment becomes impaired?"
Children's charity the NSPCC said the case was one of the most disturbing it had seen and lessons had to be learned. "Social services, health and education professionals, and many relatives, neighbours and other villagers - saw the warning signs. Yet, despite their concerns, too little was done to protect [Lauren Wright]."
The ACPC inquiry found that coordination of the case by social services was ineffective and the opportunity to fully assess Lauren Wright's situation was "weakened by not acting with due urgency on referrals or calling a child protection conference."
Marian Brandon, a senior lecturer in social work at the University of East Anglia in Norwich, analysed all the evidence given to the child protection committee's inquiry and compiled an overview report.
Her report says that at no time during the course of this case was consideration given to the convening of a multi-agency meeting.
The report adds: "There is no doubt that the social services department should have called a child protection conference in March 2000.
"At this time social services, health and education were becoming increasingly concerned that Lauren was failing to thrive and that she may have been experiencing abuse at home.
"The failure to convene a child protection conference at this stage was a crucial omission."
The report made a series of recommendations - the main one being that professionals in any child care agency should challenge decisions that do not accord with their professional judgment.
"All responsible staff must on receipt of new information indicating child protection concerns ensure that it is dealt with urgently," added the report.
Many people in Welney knew there was something wrong with the little girl from No 9 Chestnut Avenue. The neighbours opposite noticed Lauren Wright, 6, was thinner and paler than her half brother and sister, and they had heard the way her stepmother shouted at her.
Teachers at her school had seen the bruises on her legs and noted how quiet she was. Neighbours thought it was strange that her arms and legs were always covered up, even in summer. Everybody could see that her stepmother treated her differently to the other kids.
Lauren was found dead in an upstairs room at No 9 on May 6 last year. Her digestive system had fatally collapsed after a punch to the stomach from Tracey Wright, her stepmother. Her systematic brutality had left the dead child's emaciated frame covered with more than 60 bruises. The people of Welney were shocked, but they were not surprised.
Nor were social services. Social workers from Norfolk and Hertfordshire and two doctors had visited Lauren after anonymous calls from neighbours. Despite this, Lauren was left in the care of the woman who killed her.
The Wrights - Lauren, her father Craig, a car mechanic, and his mother Christine - arrived in Welney, a Fenland village of 300 people on the Norfolk-Cambridgeshire border, in 1999. It seemed perfect for a fresh start.
Within six months Craig had married the girl next door, Tracey Scarff, 31, a dominant woman with a large extended family living locally. Her influence over Craig was enormous, and he and Lauren moved in with Tracey and her two children. So began a cycle of abuse that was to end nine months later with Lauren's death.
Even before she fell into the clutches of Tracey Wright, Lauren had a history of neglect at the hands of her natural mother. Lauren was born in Hertfordshire in 1993, the product of a short affair between Craig and Jennifer Bennett.
Craig Wright lived with his mother in the village of Three Holes, Norfolk, and had minimal contact with his daughter in her first three years. In 1997 Jennifer Bennett took Lauren on holiday to Turkey and left her there, leaving the British consulate to organise her return.
On her return, Lauren was placed on the child protection register in Hertfordshire, and in May 1997 Craig collected his daughter.
In January 1999, the Wright's moved to Welney. Lauren began attending the local school, William Marshall Primary, where there were 27 pupils, two full-time teachers and a lunchtime playground assistant, Tracey Scarff.
Craig meanwhile divided his time between work, the river bank, the pub and Tracey, leaving his mother to care for Lauren.
In July 1999, Craig and Tracey married and Lauren moved next door. At this point, Tracey's abuse of her stepdaughter began. Craig, according to neighbours, was never home long enough to notice.
A succession of witnesses told Norwich crown court about Lauren's deteriorating health. She was regularly bruised on the face and legs, injuries that Tracey Wright explained with barely credible excuses.
Most disturbingly she said Lauren was being bullied at school and named another child as the bully. It seems that her word as playground assistant was not challenged by the school authorities. There was also evidence of serious psychological abuse.
Throughout this time Craig's input was minimal. In the witness box he described his daily contact with his daughter. "Lauren was in bed when I got home from work at night, and she would just be getting up when I left in the morning."
One neighbour became so concerned that he anonymously called Norfolk social services, setting in chain a procedure that should have saved Lauren's life.
Norfolk social services initially acted promptly. Tracey and Christine were seen at home by two social workers. Lauren was interviewed at school and seen by a doctor.
The doctor did not think the injuries she had were consistent with the excuses given and an appointment with a paediatrician was made for the following day, March 15 2000. The paediatrician decided, however, that the injuries were consistent with Tracey Wright's explanations, and Lauren returned home to face yet more abuse.
"Tracey Wright is an extraordinarily persuasive, plausible person, and she managed to convince everyone that there was really nothing wrong with Lauren," said a Norfolk council employee with knowledge of the case.
At this time, amid concerns about the stepmother-daughter relationship, an appointment was made for Lauren and Tracey to see a family support worker on May 8. It turned out to be a fatal misreading of the situation. The senior social worker responsible for the fatal misjudgment has since resigned and is said to be suicidal.
On April 12 there was another anonymous call concerning Lauren's welfare, but no action was taken. Norfolk council has no explanation for this. Two weeks later two social workers from Hertfordshire visited Lauren in connection with another matter and became concerned, though no action was taken.
On May 2, Lauren failed to return to school for the start of term. Tracey said she had gastroenteritis.
Meanwhile, Lauren was lying at home, malnourished, bruised and a day away from death. Tracey Wright's son, speaking by video to the court, described the fatal blows. "The day Lauren died, I remember mum punching her in the belly two times. I was going to go to the toilet, and I see mummy punch her in the belly two times."
More than a year on from her death, Welney is still coming to terms with a tragedy that was played out semi-publicly in its midst.
"This whole village has got its head in the sand," said one inhabitant, who did not wish to be named. "Nobody wants to talk about what went on here, but they must have been blind in Chestnut Avenue if they did not see what was happening to that child. She was wandering round like a rag doll but they chose to say nothing."
Scotty Dwayne McCarter, Jr 13-year-old
Jun. 9, 1993 - May 25, 2006
Open Case with DYFS
Scotty D. McCarter, 12, was fatally shot by his father, Scott McCarter, 40, on May 25, 2006. His father also killed his mother, Wendy Carol Bennett McCarter, 35, and his sister, Melanie Rae, 6, before turning the gun on himself. At the time of the murders, McCarter was on trial on charges of molesting his teenaged stepdaughter (Wendy's daughter) and the girl's best friend. The bodies of the family were found the morning McCarter was supposed to take the stand in his own defense. Wendy's family found out about the murders as they waited in the courtroom for his trial to resume. Scotty was known as a rambunctious, active boy who loved the outdoors and sports. He was a student at Lakeside Middle School. He was so loved by his school, students were given a day off to mourn his loss. The elementary school Scotty had attended, Mount Pleasant Elementary School, dedicated a tree and a plaque to Scotty and his sister Melanie, who attended school there at the time of her death. The family's initial involvement with DYFS dated back to 2004, when DYFS substantiated that Mr. McCarter had sexually abused another child. The case remained active since that time and DYFS was regularly engaged with the McCarter children. In May, Mr. McCarter went on trial for the sexual abuse allegation. He failed to appear in court on May 25th. Instead, he apparently went to his children's home and shot them, killed their mother Wendy Bennett, then turned the gun on himself.
The deaths of Sean, Melanie, Scotty and Ms. Bennett have brought into sharp focus the connection between domestic violence and child welfare. At DYFS, we have the responsibility to ensure children's safety. To guide our efforts in the context of family violence, we recently hired Jane Sweeney, one of the state's most respected domestic violence experts, to join DCF and strengthen our collaboration with the 21 lead domestic violence agencies in each county. Jane and our executive staff are creating training and technical assistance for our DYFS field staff who encounter family violence every day and need to know how to access resources and sanctuary, navigate the legal system and ensure that children are safe.
Xavier Jones 21-month-old
Sep 8, 2004 - June 7,2006
Advocate clears DYFS in boy's death !?
The state Division of Youth and Family Services is not to blame for the death of a 21-month-old boy who swallowed a prescription drug he found in a closet of his foster mother's East Orange home last year, state Child Advocate E. Susan Hodgson said in a report released today.
But "there is evidence of missed opportunities by DYFS in planning for and supervising this child throughout his life,'' said Hodgson's report, the first she has issued since assuming the job in November.
Although his caseworker made the required monthly visits, an analysis of the confidential medical and child welfare records for Xavier Jones "do not reflect that the child's safety and well-being were thoroughly and accurately assessed,'' the report found.
With more scrutiny, the state could have determined that the foster's mother's adult daughter, a recovering addict, appeared to be living there, against DYFS' wishes, according to the report.
On June 3, Xavier swallowed his foster aunt's methadone, a drug most commonly used by someone trying to quit using heroin. He died June 7 after being removed from life support.
"Xavier's tragic death should be a lesson to all of us about the importance of seeking immediate medical attention whenever an emergency occurs," Hodgson said in a statement. "Xavier's death could have been prevented had his (foster) parent called poison control as soon as they discovered his symptoms.''
The report said the family waited 90 minutes before driving the boy to a hospital.
Hodgson also noted the state failed to communicate with the foster parent who accepted 50 children - some with disabilities - in her home between 1999 and 2006. "DYFS clearly over-utilized this (foster) home,'' the report said.
After the boy died, DYFS closed the foster home. The Essex County Prosecutor's Office charged the foster mother's adult daughter with child endangerment.
Jasmin Fink of Burlington County was born prematurely on January 20, 2006, and died a month later on February 27, 2006 due to Shaken Baby Syndrome. Jasmin's mother's former boyfriend, David Fink, has been charged in connection with the infant's death. DYFS had previously been involved with Jasmin's mother, prior to Jasmin's birth. DYFS had facilitated a formal, court-ordered transfer of custody of Jasmin's older sister to the maternal grandmother in September 2006, after several years of working with the family, and there were no remaining children in the custody of Jamin's mother when DYFS closed her case. DYFS was unaware that Jasmin's mother was pregnant when the case was closed in September. Jasmin's mother has indicated she was unaware she was pregnant until late August and did not tell the maternal grandmother until five days after Jasmin was born. Shortly after Jasmin's birth, the hospital sent a registered nurse to visit with the family on February 14, 2006. We understand the nurse met with the family, observed parenting behavior and described Jasmin's mother as nurturing and receptive to advice and support.
James Earl Bradley Jr 3-year-old
Child dies in foster home
Another Wayne County foster child -- the third in eight months -- died of trauma incurred at a state-licensed foster home, officials said Monday.
On April 8, 3-year-old James Earl Bradley Jr. of Detroit had seizures and a possible head injury in the master bedroom of his foster parents' home in Van Buren Township.
After being taken first to Annapolis Hospital in Wayne around 9:30 p.m. on April 8, the child was transferred by medical helicopter to Mott Children's Hospital at the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor. He remained on life support there until he died Friday evening, Township Police Detective Bob Greene said Monday.
Greene said results from an autopsy in Washtenaw County were not yet available, though doctors at U-M thought James might have been shaken, received a blunt-force injury to the head or both.
"We know that something happened to him, but we don't know what yet," Greene said.
The foster parents, identified through court records as Christine Woodward and Lasana Karva, were questioned by police after Woodward reported that she and her 15-year-old daughter had found James in distress on the floor of the master suite in the family's home on Sadie Lane outside Belleville, officials said.
Woodward reported that she had the flu and that James had watched television with her 10-year-old son before going to bed around 9 p.m. She and her daughter said they heard crying from the bedroom, went upstairs and found James having a seizure, Greene said.
Officials said Woodward has been a licensed day-care provider for the state for about 10 years. In November, she and her husband, Karva, became licensed foster parents through the Ennis Center for Children, based in Flint, Waterford and Detroit. James was their first foster child, state records show.
Woodward was licensed to have as many as four children in day care and two foster children at a time, state records say. Only James, the foster parents and their 15-year-old daughter and 10-year-old son were at home the night of April 8, Greene said.
On Friday, the Michigan Department of Human Services' Office of Children and Adult Licensing summarily suspended Woodward's day-care license and the couple's foster-care provider license, the DHS said in a news release. The release said the actions "resulted from a recent investigation of a complaint" at the home.
The couple could not be reached Monday.
Bob Ennis, president and CEO of the Ennis Center, said "the death of this youngster is affecting all of us."
"We're devastated that this happened," Ennis said. "We reviewed all of our records, and the state has been there to review our records, and we don't believe that we could have done anything to prevent this. We want the investigation to be completed and to find where the responsibility lies."
James and his seven siblings were placed in foster care in April 2006 after allegations that some of them had been sexually abused in their home, court records show. The biological family had a history with Child Protective Services dating to January 2005, the records say.
Two other young foster children have been killed in licensed foster homes in recent months. Isaac Lethbridge, 2, of Westland was fatally beaten in a Detroit foster home on Aug. 16, 2006. His foster mother is charged with involuntary manslaughter and child abuse.
Allison Newman, also 2, died Sept. 22 after being injured in the Canton Township home of her foster mother, who is jailed on charges of first-degree murder and child abuse.
The uncomfortable truth about the foster care system is that some children are left in the care of overworked, under-trained social workers who fail them. Mary Taylor, who runs the Court-Appointed Special Advocates Program in St. Louis has had some success in limiting the number of placements for children her program supervises.
Although Dominic Williams was not in the CASA program, after his death she wrote this to her volunteers: "I wonder who really knew him, how many case managers he had, how many places he lived, whether he ever knew his guardian ad litem. Sixteen years of foster case has to be a failure in everyone's eyes." It was a failure that left Dominic wandering his block of Queens Avenue, mumbling, "I just don't have anywhere to go."
Sex offender gets life sentence for killing teen
December 16, 2006 By Heather Ratcliffe
St. Louis ? A sex offender convicted of beating and strangling a 16-year-old boy to death in 2004 was sentenced Friday to life in prison without parole.
Andrew Roberson, 36, insisted he was not guilty even after St. Louis Circuit Judge Maggie Neill sentenced him for the first-degree murder of Dominic Williams.
"I'll fight this if it takes 20 years from now," Roberson said. He was convicted by a jury Nov. 2.
Williams, whose life and death became a symbol of problems with Missouri's foster care system, was found naked in a trash bin in the Mark Twain neighborhood five days before his 17th birthday in June 2004.
Roberson, who lived in Dominic's neighborhood of Walnut Park, strangled him with an extension cord and beat him with a pipe or similar object, according to prosecutors. He made incriminating statements to police and family, according to court testimony. Blood and the victim's DNA were found at his home.
Roberson had a prior history of violence against teenage boys. In 1986, he threatened a 14-year-old with a knife and sodomized him in the woods in Cool Valley. The next year he choked and sodomized a 15-year-old fellow inmate in the shower of the juvenile detention center in Clayton. He pleaded guilty in both cases and was sentenced to 15 years in prison.
Court records show that Roberson dropped out of school in 10th grade and has a history of psychological problems. His father, Winford L. Stokes Jr., was executed in Missouri in 1990 for strangling and stabbing a waitress he had met in a bar. Stokes was convicted in two other killings and claimed he had raped six women.
Dominic, the slain 16-year-old, lived a troubled life as well. He was born premature and drug-addicted in 1987 and removed from his mother by a judge seven months later because of medical neglect.
He suffered abuse and neglect as authorities shuffled him through a series of group and foster homes, including one with no heat or electricity, according to state records. He suffered hearing and neurological damage, was mildly retarded and had behavior problems including some that suggested he had been sexually abused.
Records also show the Missouri Department of Family Services failed to place him in six possible permanent homes, including with his paternal grandmother, who raised his older brother.
Dominic's last foster mother wrote a letter to the court Friday defending the state system.
"It was the selfish, heinous and down-right evil actions of Mr. Andrew Roberson that led to this child's death," said Anna Hall.
Annette House, assistant regional director for the Missouri Department of Social Service Children's Division, told the judge that more than 200 people ? friends, relatives, teachers, social workers and strangers ? attended Dominic's funeral.
"Two Dominics"
St. Louis Post-Dispatch
June 13, 2004 Editorial
TWO BOYS NAMED DOMINIC died in Missouri's foster care system three years apart. The death of two-year-old Dominic James at the hands of his foster father in Greene County in 2001 led to this year's foster care reform bill. But the reform effort didn't save Dominic Williams.
The high school freshman from the Walnut Park neighborhood in the city spent his entire life shuttling from one foster home to another before his naked body was found abandoned in a trash bin this month, just before his 17th birthday. He had been strangled. It's too soon to know all the specifics that set the stage for Dominic Williams' tragic death.
But the circumstances of his life illustrate the personal problems and systemic failures that confront many children in foster care. Dominic's mother neglected him from birth, leading to brain damage as an infant. His father is unknown. Dominic lived in eight different homes; no one wanted to adopt him.
His case file crossed the desk of no fewer than eight state case workers and nine court-appointed guardians. The last of the nine hadn't visited Dominic's home in the year he had the case. In meetings about him in the last year, no one in the system seemed to have an inkling that he was in danger. A sex offender in custody is a suspect in his murder.
On average, children in foster care have three different placements. The Pew Commission on Children in Foster Care recently concluded that children suffer damaging "turbulence and uncertainty" with lasting consequences from multiple placements.
One response to this is a lawsuit. The Washington Supreme Court ruled last year that foster children have a right to be free from the "unreasonable risk of harm," including harm from moving them indiscriminately. But it's one thing for a court to limit the number of placements for foster children and quite another to find the money and safe homes to care for them.
Erik Sturgis 5-Year-Old
Tragedy Strikes Family For Second Time
Fire Kills 5-Year-Old Boy 5 Years After His Mother Was Murdered
(CBS)SAYREVILLE A 5-year-old boy was killed in a fire this morning after the boy's father left the child alone while he went to work. Tragically, the boy's mother was the victim of a murder-suicide five years ago.
Erik Sturgis was found dead in a second floor bedroom of the family's home on Deerfield Road. Residents of the area are shocked.
"I seen smoke over there and I saw the house was on fire and I came inside and I dialed 911," said Sean O' Grady, the victim's friend.
O'Grady said he never realized the friend he loved to play football with was still inside when he called for help.
"If I knew he was in there I would have run in and got him," he said.
Police said Kevin Sturgis left for work around 8 a.m., leaving his five-year-old son home alone. The fire started a few hours later.
"It's very very sad for a young boy to take off like that and go to heaven," said neighbor Tom Butler.
This wasn't the family's first taste of tragedy. According to published reports, in 2001, the boy's mother and Kevin's ex-wife, 22-year-old Christina Sturgis, was killed by her 28-year-old boyfriend, James Hoehman, a Linden firefighter who later committed suicide.
At the time Kevin was left to provide sole custody of Erik.
Neighbor Mary O' Grady used to baby-sit Erik. She said his father was a good man who never left his son alone. She also said that Kevin was often caught between the responsibilities of his job at Wakefern Warehouse in South Brunswick and his son.
"If he took the day off because he didn't have a babysitter, they said they would fire him," O'Grady said. "His union was not behind him. And I totally blame the job."
Detectives said the boy's father was being questioned by prosecutors earlier Saturday. An autopsy is scheduled for Sunday.
Cynteria Phillips 13-year-old
Dec. 10, 1986 - Aug. 15, 2000
Dedicated to a 13-year-old girl who was abused as a child, neglected by the state and was raped and murdered.
My Story -- By Keona Wright
My name is Keona Wright and I live in Miami, FL. My best friend Cynteria Phillips was raped and beat to death when I was 13. She was 13 as well. I'm now 18. Her killer has yet to be found. She was a very joyful girl, but she died so humiliated.
Young Girl Defies Despair
It was 1998 when two 11-year-old girls first met in detention period at Miami's Norland Middle School. It was the beginning of a lifelong friendship, but for one of the girls, life would be tragically short. Now 18, Keona Wright still remembers vividly the day she first met Cynteria Phillips. Detention was held in a home economics room, and when the bell rang the two mischievous girls turned on all the stoves before scampering off to their classes.
Throughout the next two years, Keona and Cynteria formed a fast friendship. Though Cynteria had been terribly abused as a young child, her infectious smile and good-humored demeanor belied her adverse life and she never let on that she was troubled by anything. That day in 1998, the 11-year-old Keona Wright could not have grasped the brutality her new friend had already lived through. And she certainly could not have wrapped her head around what would happen to Cynteria.
Brutally Murdered And Discarded
In the end, Cynteria Phillips, met with the cruelest fate imaginable. On Aug. 15, 2000, her naked, lifeless body was found in an alley outside of Miami's Edison High School
It was evident that she had been brutally beaten and sexually assaulted. The 13-year-old girl had bruises all over her face and body -- even inside her mouth. A coroner determined that a blow to her head had been the cause of death, but so thoroughly had her killer, or killers, beaten her that the head blow seemed almost a formality.
A Troubled Life
Florida child welfare records show that Cynteria Kimberly Phillips was born Dec. 10, 1986 to drug-addicted parents. She was one of eight children born to her mother, and at the age of five, Cynteria and a younger sister were taken from their mother's home and placed with their father. That arrangement did not last long. State records show that the girls had been sexually abused. Cynteria had healed lacerations on her genitals and her sister was treated for syphilis.
Over the next seven years Cynteria was in and out of no less than eight foster families. In her first family, Cynteria seems to have found love and stability for two years, but the couple was forced to return her to the state when jobs dictated a lot of interstate travel. Tragically, Cynteria's next foster mother died months after her arrival. From then on, Cynteria never stayed anywhere long. Many times she carried her belongings cinched up in trash bags.
It all had a discouraging effect on Cynteria. She started acting out. One foster parent reported that as an eight year old, she was disturbingly sexual, a sign some psychologists say of early sexual abuse. Some of her foster parents reported that she was becoming increasingly intolerant of rules. Still, by all accounts, Cynteria was an affectionate, loving girl. Most who knew her believe that all she needed was consistent love and caring.
Cynteria's last address was Miami Bridge, a residential care facility for runaways. Many teenagers end up thriving in the structured environment there, but Cynteria kept running away. It seems that Cynteria's innocence or her sense of immortality led her to believe she did not need anyone's help, a mistake she would not recover from.
Some Guy Named "J"
Keona remembers that Cynteria stopped coming to school in January 2000. Several months later, Keona saw her good friend hanging out a Winn-Dixie. A few months later, Cynteria unexpectedly showed up at her house, but then she was gone again Keona last saw Cynteria on May 8, 2000, back at the Winn-Dixie.
For Cynteria the last seven months of her life were spent living as a runaway. She would sometimes stay with friends or relatives, but she was always moving on - looking for something elusive. Friends say she had a boyfriend in his 20's who they knew only as "J."
It's unclear when she last saw him. The seventh-grader was last seen alive August 14, 2000. At around 10:15 that night, she showed up at Miami Bridge inviting friends to a party. Again - no one is sure who invited her to the party, or what happened after she left Miami Bridge and headed for the party.
Cynteria was a very sociable, friendly girl. I know for a fact that there are people out there who know what happened to her. Someone somewhere knows the truth.
Joey Wallace 3-year-old
In Chicago in 1993, Amanda Wallace, a mentally ill woman, hung her 3-year-old son, Joey Wallace, with an extension cord after social workers returned him to her.
Cree Lynn Scott 10-month-old
Woman: DCFS was indifferent to warning -"It was like Cree Lynn just didn't matter."
FLORA - Linda Jones says child protection workers were hostile and indifferent when she tried to warn them that someone was abusing her step-granddaughter.
"They said, 'Don't you worry about this. This is none of your business,'" said Jones, a Flora beautician.
Jones said she made several calls to an Illinois Department of Children and Family Services child abuse caseworker at the field office in Olney concerning bruises she observed on the baby, Cree Lynn Scott.
On Aug. 24, 2000, the 10-month-old girl choked to death on tissue paper forced down her throat while her mother, Brandy Scott, attended a parenting class.
Jones said she made her last call to DCFS several hours before Cree Lynn's death.
Police charged Scott's boyfriend, Chad W. Jones, no relation to Linda Jones, with murder. He pleaded guilty to involuntary manslaughter and received five years in prison.
Chad Jones testified he placed the tissue paper in the little girl's mouth to stop her from crying but could not remove it before she suffocated.
The DCFS had required Scott to take parenting classes after an earlier finding that someone had physically abused Cree Lynn, according to a child death report by the department's Office of the Inspector General.
Linda Jones, who had already adopted two of Brandy Scott's older children, both girls, said she continued to observe bruising on Cree Lynn, even after a second probe.
"They would not listen," she said. "To me, they were more or less just protecting Brandy. They're supposed to be there to protect the child. It was like the baby wasn't even important."
Brandy Scott could not be reached for comment. A supervisor in the DCFS' Olney office declined to comment.
In the investigation of Cree Lynn's death, an investigator faulted the DCFS caseworker and her supervisor for "ethics" violations. After the first child abuse probe, a supervisor allowed Scott's former private therapist to become her DCFS caseworker.
Because of the prior relationship, "The caseworker accepted all of the mother's (claims) regarding substance abuse, employment and the baby's health, and neglected to verify information when obvious discrepancies arose," the investigative report stated.
When the agency assigned another child protection investigator to the case after the second abuse allegation, that worker failed to assess the danger and accepted the opinion of the former therapist-caseworker that the girl's injuries were accidental, the inspector general's office reported.
Linda Jones said a judge would not allow her to make a victim statement at Chad Jones' sentencing.
"They wouldn't hear anything we had to say," she said. "It was like Cree Lynn just didn't matter."
By George Pawlawczyk and Beth Hundsdorfer
News-Democrat
Dianne DeVanna 11-year-old
A SHORT, UNHAPPY LIFE
A foster child, Dianne DeVanna just wanted to go home. That's where she was killed.
Nearly 30 years ago, the murder of a young girl reverberated far beyond the South Shore and resulted in wholesale changes in the way the state deals with child abuse.
Eleven-year-old Dianne DeVanna was found dead in her Braintree home on Sept. 23, 1978, the victim of shocking cruelty at the hands of her father and stepmother. The little girl had been tortured, including being hanged by her feet from a staircase with her hands tied and mouth gagged. She died from a blood clot in her brain, caused by a blow to the head.
The case exposed huge gaps in the welfare system designed to protect children and led to the creation of the state Department of Social Services. After living in foster homes and residential facilities for six years, Dianne wanted to go home. A month before her murder, a judge ordered that she be returned to her family, even though all the professionals involved in the case argued against it.
What then-Norfolk County District Attorney William Delahunt called "one of cruelest and most sadistic" cases he had seen was also the impetus for The Dianne DeVanna Center for the Prevention of Child Abuse and Neglect. The nonprofit organization named for the pretty young girl from Braintree grew out of donations sent to a memorial committee raising money to put a headstone on her grave. When a local company donated the headstone, the donations were used instead to establish the center.
Today, the DeVanna Center develops programs to reduce child abuse and neglect, supports parents and families in need and promotes child safety. It provides services to families being helped by the state Department of Social Services.
Dianne's father, Sylvester DeVanna, died of a heart attack in prison in 1980 while serving a life sentence. His wife, Vincenza, served a 19- to 20-year term at MCI-Framingham for manslaughter.
Patriot Ledger staff
Jada Southall 2-year-old
CPS Responds to Toddler's Abuse -Did this child slipped through the cracks? A police report Eyewitness News obtained after Jada's injuries, shows young Jada was no stranger to medical treatment.
Did this child slipped through the cracks? "I don't know that, but I do know the process will help one identify that if that happened," Susan Klein-Rothschild said.
Klein-Rothschild is the County's Director of Family Services, and overseas Child Protective Services. She reviewed the police report that details four incidents of injuries to Jada while in the care of her mother's live in boyfriend, Osvaldo Lopez. The incidents include a fractured collarbone, bruises to the stomach, an injury to the arm, and the most recent incident last night when she was taken to the hospital with breathing problems.
Klein-Rothschild says Jada being treated at different medical centers could help CPS with questions they have, "It looks like this child had more than one injury and treatment at different place, different professionals may have known different things about it."
If a medical professional sees an injury on a child, immediate action must happen. Rothschild says, "If a medical profession sees an injury they're concerned about they they're required and responsible to report it to a hotline."
Jada has a younger brother who is at Child Haven. CPS says they do have a child abuse investigator on the case since Lopez was arrested.
Mikinah Smith 1-year-old
Died: March 18, 2003
Over-the-Rhine
Age at death: 1 year
Cause of death: Head injury
Job and Family Services intervention: The agency got involved immediately after Mikinah was born because her mother previously neglected older siblings. When the baby was 4 months old, her mother left her with an unsuitable caregiver. That prompted the agency to place her and her twin brother in foster homes. Mikinah's foster father, Norman White, violently shook Mikinah on March 15, 2003, leading to her death three days later.
Criminal case: White, 41, of Westwood was convicted of involuntary manslaughter and assault. He is serving a five-year prison term.
Lilanna 12-year-old
Lilanna Easter Sunday 2000, usually a day of celebration, ended in a day marked by brutality in Knox, Indiana. Lilianna's 12-year-old lifeless body was found on this day, soaked in blood, with her skull fractured in several places. She had been violently attacked by her step-father.
Lilianna's step-father began drinking early that morning, and by mid-afternoon demanded the house be cleaned. Disgusted with Lilianna's dusting, he pulled out a two-caliber rifle and began to beat the young girl. When Lilianna's mother tried to intervene, she too became victim to the beating. Lilianna's mother freed herself from her husband's grip, and went running onto the street covered in blood. She soon brought back police officers. Lilianna's stepfather used his two other children as shields to protect himself from the officers. Finally, an officer distracted him, while another officer used a side entrance to get into the house. The officer discovered Lilianna's body. Her head had been all but crushed, and she lay in a pool of blood. She'd been beaten so ferociously that the rifle had split in two.
Sadly, the abuse came as no surprise to her friends and neighbors. Despite their warnings to the department of children and family services, and police, Lilianna and her mother were not protected from the beast in their home. Over 200 of her classmates protested against child abuse at the courthouse when Lilianna's step-father stood accused of murder.
Sarah Crider 14-year-old
Why did Sarah Crider die?
Alone in the darkness of a state mental hospital, Sarah Crider, 14, lay slowly dying.
A HIDDEN SHAME: DEATH IN GEORGIA'S MENTAL HOSPITALS
Sarah Crider was among 115 patients in the state's care who might have lived.
She complained of stomach pain at 4:30 p.m. She vomited about 8:30. When the only physician on call at Georgia Regional Hospital/Atlanta came at 9:20, Sarah had vomited again, but the doctor did not examine her, medical records suggest. She threw up around midnight and once more about 2 a.m., this time a bloody substance that resembled coffee grounds. But hospital workers did not enter Sarah's room again until 6:15 a.m. By then, it was too late.
A few hours later, two hospital employees drove to Cobb County to tell Joyce Dobson, Sarah's grandmother. Dobson adored Sarah for all her complexities: artistic but troubled, challenging but comic. Now she could think only of two nights earlier, when she had last visited Sarah and heard another patient's haunting scream.
I hope nobody killed her, Dobson blurted out.
In fact, what happened to Sarah was beyond anything Dobson could have imagined.
Sarah was one of at least 115 patients from Georgia's state psychiatric hospitals who have died under suspicious circumstances during the past five years, according to an investigation by The Atlanta Journal-Constitution. The newspaper assembled a list of questionable deaths by examining state and federal inspection reports, a database of vital records, autopsies, medical files, court papers, state insurance claims and other documents.
This study revealed a pattern of neglect, abuse and poor medical care in the seven state hospitals, as well as a lack of public accountability for patient deaths. The findings for 2002 through late 2006 -- from employees beating patients with aluminum pipes to doctors widely prescribing sedatives just to maintain order -- evoke images from the mid-20th century at the state hospital in Milledgeville. There, thousands of patients lived and died amid horrific conditions that became synonymous across the nation with mistreatment of people with mental illness.
Several experts in psychiatric care concur with the Journal-Constitution's findings. They include patient advocates, as well as a Connecticut physician who heads the American Psychiatric Association's patient safety committee and another psychiatrist who helps conduct inquiries into deaths at mental hospitals in Illinois. All say the investigation shows significant problems with care provided in the Georgia hospitals.
State officials generally do not dispute the newspaper's conclusions. But a statement released by the Georgia Department of Human Resources, which operates the hospitals, says 82 of the patients identified by the Journal-Constitution had underlying medical problems "that were appropriately treated."
In an additional 24 cases, the agency says, "we agree the hospital system should make improvements."
Officials say they have been working to improve mental health care by shifting resources and patients, especially those with developmental disabilities, to community-based services.
"We have a whole system of care that we have to build and balance," says B.J. Walker, the state's human resources commissioner. The Georgia facilities, she says, compare favorably with those in other states on several key indicators, such as escapes, deaths of patients restrained by hospital workers, and medication errors.
"Our hospitals are overcrowded and overused," she says. But "we're not just throwing our hands up and hollering we can't do anything about it."
The Journal-Constitution documented 364 deaths of state hospital patients from January 2002 through mid-December 2006. Two-thirds apparently died of natural causes.
Among the 115 cases the newspaper determined to be suspicious, the greatest number of patients -- 36 -- died from choking on food, vomit or foreign objects, or by aspirating those substances into their lungs. A similar number died for lack of emergency treatment or from questionable medical care. Twelve committed suicide. At least two died under physical restraint by hospital workers.
The newspaper could find no information on 16 of the 115 deaths, except that state officials classified them as "unexplained/suspicious."
Experts say relatively simple measures could have prevented many deaths: More staff members to observe choking-prone patients during mealtime and to react to emerging medical problems. One-on-one monitoring of patients who threaten to kill themselves. More training in nonviolent methods to control unruly patients.
No independent agency routinely investigates or analyzes these deaths, the Journal-Constitution found. In New York and Illinois, any death in a state hospital triggers a review by an outside group. In Georgia, the agency that runs the state hospitals polices itself.
Dangerous conditions in the hospitals arise from decades of disregard by public officials, chronic overcrowding and understaffing, and public indifference, the newspaper found.
In 2000, state legislators created an ombudsman's office to investigate abuse and neglect -- but never appropriated money for the office and never filled the job. And the problems have become even more intractable. Since 2004, the state has cut the hospitals' budgets by 12 percent. Meanwhile, officials project, the daily average number of adult mental health patients will have risen 12 percent by the end of this fiscal year.
This is the combustible atmosphere that Sarah Elizabeth Crider, a seventh-grader from the suburbs, encountered in the fall of 2005 when she entered Georgia Regional.
The way a girl with no history of serious physical illness died more than three months later illustrates not just the breakdown of care in her case, but also a systemic failure that has escaped scrutiny for decades.
"She was a healthy 14-year-old -- healthy," says Dobson, Sarah's maternal grandmother and guardian, whose family has hired an attorney to pursue a claim against the state. "She had never been sick in her life.
"Why wasn't something done for this child?"
A girl's life unravels
She loved cartoons. Given the choice, she would have eaten ice cream with every meal. She gardened with her grandmother, but teased about the results.
Meemaw, Sarah Crider would tell Dobson in the yard, why don't you just admit it -- everything you touch dies anyway.
Sometimes, though, Sarah's disposition darkened.
One day in February 2003, she claimed to be seeing large spots on a wall that had no spots. Her family took her to an emergency room, where a doctor at first suspected meningitis. A spinal tap ruled out that diagnosis. But Sarah's hallucinations worried the doctor, who thought she might hurt herself. He sent her to the nearest state psychiatric hospital: Georgia Regional.
The 38-year-old facility sprawls across 174 acres in south DeKalb County, near the I-285 interchange with Flat Shoals Road. It resembles a small college campus, with low-slung buildings clustered amid grassy fields. Sarah entered a unit for children and teenagers, segregated from adults with mental illness and retardation.
She was 11 years old.
Doctors treated her for autism, for which she had been previously diagnosed. After two weeks, she returned to Dobson's house in Acworth acting as if nothing had happened and quickly resumed her regular life: Girl Scouts, youth groups at church, special education classes at school.
In November 2004, her sixth-grade class from Lost Mountain Middle School planned to attend a Disney on Ice performance at Philips Arena in downtown Atlanta. Sarah, by then 13, often had trouble getting out of bed on school days. But she awoke early the morning of the field trip, she was so excited. At school, as her classmates boarded a bus, Sarah went back inside to retrieve her coat. The bus was on I-75, well on its way downtown, before anyone noticed Sarah's absence.
Missing the trip devastated Sarah. In a fit of anger, she shredded an antique book belonging to Dobson. The outburst was a preview of what would become routine behavior -- "acting up," as family members describe it.
Sarah lived with her grandmother, as did her younger brother, Wesley, and her mother, Leslie Dobson. Sarah's parents no longer lived together, and several relatives had helped care for her. Now, no one could control her. So on Nov. 19, 2004, her family reluctantly admitted her to Ridgeview Institute, a private psychiatric hospital in Smyrna.
There, Sarah received a new diagnosis: schizophrenia.
The brain disorder, which can cause hallucinations and delusions, among other symptoms, affects about 1 percent of the population, according to the National Institute of Mental Health. In children, the institute says, the disease often is misdiagnosed as autism.
Sarah improved at Ridge-view, her family says, becoming less anxious, less frenzied. But the economics of psychiatric health care quickly intervened. Her mother's medical insurance policy, which covered Sarah, paid for not quite a month of inpatient psychiatric care. So Sarah became one of many mentally ill Georgians who, facing similar insurance restrictions, or lacking coverage altogether, have only one real option: a state hospital.
Sarah spent two weeks at Georgia Regional in February and March 2005, shortly after leaving Ridgeview. Back at her grandmother's house, she continued having severe, disruptive tantrums despite being heavily medicated. By the fall, Sarah's family realized they needed help again.
On Oct. 24, 2005, Sarah returned to Georgia Regional.
She was the sole resident of Room 1123 on the adolescent unit. The only door had a long, narrow window that had been covered. The only furnishings were a bed and a wooden desk with the drawers removed. A slim window on the outside wall offered her a view of a trailer on the hospital grounds.
Over the next three months, Sarah's condition, as well as her behavior, deteriorated.
She "frequently experienced hallucinations, talked or mumbled to herself, and was combative and uncooperative with directions and schoolwork," a state report says. She rarely spoke, according to another report, and when she did, she seemed fixated on such topics as getting pregnant and the singer Britney Spears.
Doctors prescribed an assortment of medications: Ativan to reduce anxiety. Benadryl for sedation. Geodon, Risperdal and Seroquel to treat schizophrenia and psychosis. Thorazine to control hallucinations. Cogentin to counteract the Thorazine's side effects.
Many of the drugs shared a common risk: constipation.
Sarah had entered the hospital with an elevated white blood cell count, a sign that she was fighting an infection. But medical records indicate no doctor at Georgia Regional ordered additional blood tests right away. They concentrated instead on Sarah's mental illness.
At Christmas, two months later, Sarah left for 13 days to visit her family. Her homecoming was far from joyful.
She barely spoke to anyone. She frightened her younger cousins with a fixed stare. Her family couldn't leave her alone, for fear that she would run away.
"She was sedated," Joyce Dobson says, "like a zombie."
Sarah's demeanor so upset Dobson that she began looking into an alternative treatment program in Florida. She hoped to send Sarah there in the spring.
When Sarah returned to Georgia Regional after Christmas, the hospital staff was supposed to take blood to test for anemia and infection. Sarah refused, and no one at the hospital ever asked Dobson for permission to take blood by force. So the tests were not done.
Most Sundays, Dobson and Sarah's other grandmother, Bobbie Crider, visited her together. The second weekend in February, they went on Saturday night instead.
Sarah met them in a waiting room -- the hospital does not allow visitors on the wards -- dressed in a white hospital gown, rather than the jeans and shirts she had worn during earlier visits. Her shoulder-length brown hair needed washing. She had put on weight during her hospital stay, about 30 pounds, up to 156, possibly a side effect of her anti-psychotic medications. She was withdrawn and seemed ill.
"She didn't talk much," Bobbie Crider recalls. "I thought she couldn't understand us well."
Dobson noticed that Sarah's ears were bright red; usually that meant she had a fever. Dobson also wondered about a red streak across Sarah's forehead and about the girl's swollen feet. She told a member of the medical staff that her granddaughter needed attention.
Just before she left, Dobson heard a loud, prolonged scream from behind the locked door to Sarah's unit. A hospital employee explained that a patient was being restrained.
I just hate to send her back into that kind of environment, Dobson told Bobbie Crider.
Sarah embraced Dobson one last time before returning to her room. It was a ritual between grandmother and granddaughter.
Sarah had always called it a "squeezy hug."
Staff under pressure
The next night, Feb. 12, 2006, Sarah Crider was one of 22 patients in Georgia Regional's adolescent unit. Boys slept on one hall, girls on the other. A nursing station that connected them served as a base for the staff working the overnight shift: one nurse and four technicians.
"There was chaos on the unit," a nurse who went off-duty at 11:30 p.m. would later tell an investigator.
The nurse in charge overnight had responsibilities both on the adolescent unit and elsewhere in the hospital. He had to administer medications to patients and fill out paperwork. He had to respond to emergencies on other units in other buildings and process the admission of new patients. He had to assign staff members to cover patients' needs.
The nurse sent two male technicians to the boys' hall; one supervised a patient who required individual monitoring, while the other cared for the remaining eight boys. As the shift began, the nurse assigned another male technician to the girls' hall to work with a female colleague. She would later say she wasn't able to look in on all 13 girls on the unit because, with so many patients, "I wouldn't have time to do anything else."
High patient-to-staff ratios are hardly unusual at the state hospitals. The occupancy rate in adult mental health units averaged 109 percent last fiscal year, well above the national standard of 85 percent. Staff turnover is heavy, made worse by pay for many technicians of less than $20,000 a year. Nurse and technician jobs go unfilled for weeks or months at a time. Consequently, the hospitals often call on employees to perform heroically under virtual combat conditions.
And when employees are overworked, distracted or disengaged, patients may suffer.
At East Central Regional Hospital in Augusta in 2002, patient Larry Mansfield asked a technician to help him buy corn chips from a vending machine. Like many patients in the state hospitals, Mansfield, 53, had a history of choking, was restricted to a diet of ground food, and needed supervision while eating. The technician got Mansfield the chips anyway, then left to help subdue another patient. Alone with the chips, Mansfield choked to death.
By comparison, Sarah Crider's stomachache apparently didn't seem like much of an emergency, at first, on a hectic Sunday night at Georgia Regional.
Hours of distress
One physician was on duty for the entire hospital that night: Dr. Ginari Gibb, a 32-year-old medical resident in psychiatry. Unlike most other residents, who work at Georgia Regional under an attending physician through arrangements with medical schools, Gibb was a free agent, according to state personnel records, hired for a 12-hour overnight shift at $60 an hour.
After Sarah vomited about
8:30 p.m., the nurse then on the adolescent unit paged the doctor. Gibb arrived about 9:20, and wrote in Sarah's chart that she was "found lying in bed in vomitus" and "complained of stomach cramps over several hours." Medical records don't indicate whether Sarah was able to describe the extent of her pain. Regardless, Gibb noted, Sarah appeared to be in no distress.
But Sarah's medical records contain no indication that Gibb actually examined her. The doctor did not document whether she listened for bowel sounds with a stethoscope, or checked whether the abdomen and bowel area were firm, or felt for masses.
Gibb ordered a suppository for Sarah's nausea and a Tylenol for her headache. Then she went back to work elsewhere in the hospital.
No one summoned Gibb when Sarah vomited at least two more times between midnight and 2 a.m. The overnight nurse had been occupied with other duties since 12:35, then returned at 2 to document that Sarah was lying in "extra large amounts" of vomit. A technician would later tell investigators it resembled coffee grounds, a sign of a medical emergency: She was vomiting partly digested blood.
For the next several hours, though, hospital employees showed no urgency in their assessments of Sarah's condition.
3:15 a.m.: Sarah was "in bed and awake."
4:15 a.m.: Sarah's breathing was "even and unlabored."
5:30 a.m.: "No complications noted."
In fact, the employees had no idea how she was doing.
As the male technician working the girls' hall later would explain to state investigators: "We're not supposed to go into the female rooms at night. We just stand at the door and make sure that they're in the room."
When he looked in on Sarah, the overhead light was off and she was facing away from the door, the technician said. She was quiet, he said, but he "couldn't necessarily tell if she was breathing."
At 6:15, a nurse entered Room 1123 and found Sarah, unconscious, without a pulse, still lying in vomit. The staff declared a "code," a hospital term for medical emergency.
A nurse who raced to Sarah's room from another unit noted that her abdomen was enlarged, rounded and firm to the touch, and that a thick brown substance was coming out of her mouth. Her skin was so discolored that staff members who hadn't seen Sarah before assumed she was black.
Another nurse placed a defibrillator to Sarah's chest, hoping to restart her heart.
"Where [is] the medical doctor?" the nurse asked, according to notes later inserted in Sarah's medical chart.
Gibb, still the only physician on duty, arrived at Sarah's room a few minutes later, records show. She stood in the doorway, other hospital workers would later report, and watched as they tried to resuscitate Sarah.
In the medical chart, though, Gibb would note that Sarah was "cold, blue and without a pulse" when she arrived. "Rigor mortis had already set in."
Gibb added, "The patient was unable to be revived, and expired."
An avoidable death
Joyce Dobson at first assumed another patient had assaulted her granddaughter. But she says Georgia Regional employees assured her that Sarah died peacefully, in her sleep.
Sarah's autopsy provided a far more horrific account.
The medical examiner found Sarah had developed a severe intestinal blockage that caused her colon to stretch almost to the point of bursting. Her lungs had filled with vomit. And she had developed bacterial sepsis, an infection of the bloodstream.
The day after Sarah died, the state opened two investigations -- both by the Department of Human Resources, the same agency that runs the hospitals.
One inquiry began in response to an anonymous complaint about Sarah's treatment. The other resulted from a 2005 policy requiring agency employees to look into the death of every state hospital patient.
In many instances, employees of the hospital where a death has occurred investigate their colleagues' actions -- and, records show, rarely find fault.
In one case, hospital officials assigned a death investigation to a music therapist on their staff. At another hospital, a patient advocate with no professional license in any medical field conducted numerous inquiries. His report from a 2005 investigation was typical: 58-year-old Henry Jenkins "was loved and admired by all who knew him," the advocate concluded. "Someone said to me, 'Everyone liked Henry.' We can all hope to be remembered in that way."
Physicians and other medical professionals often critique the handling of death cases by conducting peer review. But the state refuses to release records of those reviews, even to the families of deceased patients.
Gwen Skinner, who heads the mental health division of the Department of Human Resources, describes the investigations as "strong, thorough." Walker, the human resources commissioner, says the department "takes whatever action is required."
In Sarah's case, investigators from the department's regulatory section struck a critical tone.
They found she had become lethally constipated partly because of her medications, some of which were known to cause severe constipation in many patients. The problem, they discovered, was exacerbated by dosages that sometimes exceeded the amounts prescribed. They also documented that hospital employees did not record Sarah's consumption of food and liquids or her bowel movements.
Furthermore, investigators said, Sarah's impacted bowels developed over time and could have been detected by more careful observation.
Georgia Regional "failed to adequately monitor and assess the patient," the investigators wrote. "Medical professionals are left with the responsibility to develop systems to collect information related to the patient's wellness, to recognize symptoms related to impaired health, and to obtain and provide prompt and appropriate treatment."
Sarah's condition should have been recognized as a medical emergency requiring immediate surgery, says Dr. Kris Sperry, Georgia's chief medical examiner. "People should not die of obstructed intestines."
Skinner agrees that Sarah's death was avoidable.
"Our take on it was the situation with the child was not something that occurred on one night or one shift," Skinner says. "I would say that anytime you have a child die, the system has failed."
The state fired Dr. Ramesh Amin, Sarah's primary psychiatrist for much of her hospitalization, citing "negligence and inefficiency." Amin, who has contested his firing, declined to comment for this article. His attorney, Sandra Michaels, says Amin should not be "singled out" for blame. "It was a tragedy that had nothing to do with his abilities as a doctor."
For other hospital employees, the consequences of Sarah's death appear to have been minimal.
Ginari Gibb, the doctor on duty the night Sarah died, continues to practice at Georgia Regional. Gibb, who did not respond to requests for an interview, received no punishment from hospital officials, just a letter from the facility's clinical director outlining her mistakes.
The letter's purpose, the clinical director wrote, was for "coaching and counseling."
The final indignity
Sarah's funeral was Thursday, Feb. 16. Her special education classmates brought red heart-shaped balloons to a Marietta cemetery on a warm winter afternoon. One child read aloud, "Sarah, you're my best friend, and I'm going to miss you."
About a month later, Joyce Dobson called Georgia Regional to ask for Sarah's clothes.
"They said, well, if they could find them," she recalls. She eventually received Sarah's gown and robe, both stained by what appeared to be vomit or blood.
Dobson was furious. Sarah was meticulous about her clothes, sometimes changing three or four times a day. Dobson knew her granddaughter never would have chosen to stay in soiled clothing.
She saw this as one last indignity, one last symbol of neglect surrounding Sarah's death.
"I was angry because I felt like it could have been prevented," Dobson says. "It just seemed like such carelessness."
By ALAN JUDD and ANDY MILLER The Atlanta Journal-Constitution Published on Jan. 7, 2007
Elijah Yanes 11-month-old
Did baby Elijah Yanes' heart rupture because he was sodomized, or did he die because his father used adult CPR on his 11-month-old body?
Another fine example of Phoenix CPS-Child Abuse justice.
That's the question Maricopa County Superior Court jurors will have to ponder in the trial of Peoria resident Delano Yanes, who was charged with first-degree murder and child abuse in his son's death in September 2003. During opening arguments Wednesday, prosecutor Frankie Grimsman alleged that Yanes had either raped the baby or forced an object into him, causing his heart to rupture.
Defense attorney Vikki Liles countered that Yanes, 27, found the child unconscious in his playpen and that he and an APS worker possibly caused the fatal injury by performing CPR on him.
There was no DNA evidence to confirm a sexual attack. And the attorneys have lined up medical experts to argue whether there was bruising or whether CPR could kill a baby.
Jury acquits man accused of abusing, killing 11-month-old son
Michael Kiefer The Arizona Republic Feb. 3, 2006 12:00 AM
Prosecutors said that Delano Yanes sodomized his 11-month old son and that the child's heart exploded during the attack.
But on Thursday, a Maricopa County Superior Court jury acquitted Yanes of first-degree murder and two child-abuse counts.
His defense attorney, Vikki Liles, told the jury during her opening argument that the only thing worse than having a child die is to be unjustly accused of the child's death. The jury listened.
Yanes wept with joy at the verdict. He hugged Liles. He hugged his mother and grandmother. He even hugged a member of the jury who came back into the courtroom to shake his hand.
He struggled for words.
"It's hard to be accused of something you're so against," he said.
And when asked about the prospect of being sentenced to life in prison, he said, "I don't think I would have made it past a year."
Yanes, 27, of Peoria, claimed that he found his son Elijah unconscious in his playpen in September 2003. He ran from his apartment and enlisted the help of an Arizona Public Service Co. worker. The two of them attempted CPR on the child, but the child died.
Elijah's diaper was filled with feces and blood and his tiny chest was bruised. Medical examiners found that his heart had ruptured as if from trauma and they thought they noted bruising on his anus.
Yanes was arrested at his son's viewing.
"I never got to say my real goodbyes," he said.
That night Yanes reportedly got into a pushing match with a detention officer at Madison Street Jail and was subsequently charged with aggravated assault; he still faces trial on that count. After five months, his family and members of his church raised enough money to post bond.
The trial, which began Jan. 11, was a battle of medical experts.
Deputy County Attorney Frankie Grimsman alleged that in the 20-some minutes between when Yanes' wife left the apartment and when Yanes called 911, that Yanes had sodomized the child. But there was no DNA evidence to support the theory.
The medical experts could not agree whether the child's anus and rectum were injured, or whether the chest bruising was caused by assault or by administering adult CPR on an infant.
The jury never heard that the state Child Protective Services had investigated Yanes and his wife in April 2003 when baby Elijah suffered a broken arm; investigators found no evidence of abuse.
The jurors deliberated Wednesday afternoon and Thursday morning before returning the not-guilty verdicts.
"Show me the evidence," said jury member Thomas Drozt of Peoria, a sentiment held by several members of the jury who would not give their names.
Yanes' wife, Teresa, did not attend the trial, and neither Yanes nor Teresa's mother and sister could account for her whereabouts.
Yanes said that instead of going to prison, he would be going to his night-shift job just as on any other day.
Charnae Wise 4-year-old
"Mommy" she whispered softly as one last tear slowly fell. This was her last thought as she slowly slipped from this world into what waited beyond.
Please, Remember Me - By Dawn Barler
The four year old lay quietly in the dark listening to the dull thumps and bumps of her brothers and sisters playing upstairs. She could hear her mother's voice, an angry, mean and threatening voice that still somehow brought comfort. A tear ran down her dirty little face. She wanted her mommy.
Slowly, with what strength was left to her, she turned her head toward the stairs, as she had done so many times before and watched the light that seeped in from under the door. Then she heard the water running in the kitchen sink and licked her cracked lips with a dry tongue.
She knew mommy would be in the kitchen now, and she wanted so much to be in her mother's arms. She wanted to be warm, dry and safe. She wanted to have just a sip of that cool running water.
She tried to get up to go to the door but couldn't move from the damp and musky pile of old clothes and newspapers that had been serving as her bed. She reached one scrawny bruised arm to the door. Opening and closing her tiny hand as infants so often do. She opened her mouth to call out to her mother, but the sound that ripped from her raw throat was only a dry and painful whisper.
She didn't know how long she had been there in the darkness of the basement, but she knew why. In her child's mind it had been her fault; she had been a very bad girl. She must have been because mommy had told her so. She had made mommy very angry, that is why she was there.
She had crawled to the door many times and clawed at the wood until her fingers bled. She had cried out in fear, pain, and hunger. She had cried out in her sorrow and had promised to be a good girl. No one had answered her cries and so once again she would crawl back down into the darkness, confused, afraid, and alone.
She had squeezed her eyes shut tight many times against the tears of frustration and fear. They would fall anyway. When her tears would finally fade she would lay and watch the door quietly; listen to the rats rustling through the filth of the basement and she would wait.
As the time passed an odd calmness washed over her and she began to feel a strange kind of numbness. Oh, she still felt the pain and sickness of her empty stomach, the dry burning in her throat, and her head still ached. She was aware of the sores and bruises on her small body which still oozed blood and puss and caused pain with every movement. She felt the throbbing of the splinters under what remained of her bloody and infected fingernails. She knew all this pain, but somehow it didn't matter anymore, she felt detached from it as if it were happening to someone else.
Darkness surrounded her as she heard her mother ushering the other children to bed. She heard their feet, a distant steady thumping as they went up the stairs. A faint memory of soft pillows and warm blankets fluttered on the edge of her mind. 'Mommy' she whispered softly as one last tear slowly fell. This was her last thought as she slowly slipped from this world into what waited beyond.
No arms had held the little one as she passed. No tears were shed. Life continued on in the shabby house, uncaring of the tiny forgotten frame which lay half buried beneath the garbage and dirt in the basement below.
How a Child Died in her Mother's Basement
By Shankar Vedantam
Charlene Wise was sitting at a kitchen table in Norristown when her water broke. It was just after midnight and her sixth child was about to be born.
What concerned her, however, was that she and her sister, Darlene, were running out of crack.
A burst of pain cut through her drugged haze. She lay down.
"Do you want me to call 911?" Darlene asked.
Charlene suggested that her sister go "do some prostitution," and buy more crack.
The pain got worse and Darlene called an ambulance.
"Don't push!" paramedics shouted as they rushed to the hospital.
The baby girl was born on Sept. 19, 1991, blue in the face, with the umbilical cord wrapped around her neck. The doctors and nurses were angry with Charlene. "You knew you weren't supposed to get high," they told her.
In the morning, they asked her to choose a name for the baby.
Charlene wanted a name that sounded like her own.
"Charnae," she said.
She never got to hold her baby.
When social workers checked Charlene's case history, they found that her five other children had been put in foster care after she was caught living in a crack house in Pottstown. They decided to place Charnae in foster care, too.
On the way out of the hospital, Charlene peered through the nursery window. There were cards attached to the cribs. One pink tag read, "Baby Wise."
A beautiful baby. Charlene felt bad about losing Charnae. But she felt worse that she had not gotten high in many hours.
Six years later, after Charnae died in a horrific case of child abuse, Charlene would remember the day of the birth as the first of many occasions when she had failed her daughter.
Charnae was almost 3 when she was returned to her mother.
Charlene had desperately wanted her children back. She convinced Montgomery County social workers that she had turned her life around. She found a home in Philadelphia at 3017 W. Harper St. and struggled through a drug-rehabilitation program.
Denisha, her oldest, came back around Thanksgiving 1992. She was 13. Kadedra, 5, and Gwendolyn, 4, followed.
Several months later, social workers told Charlene it was time for Donte, then 4, and Charnae to return.
Charlene felt she hardly knew them. She had visited the children in their foster home. Charnae was impaired by the crack her mother had smoked while pregnant. Social workers said Charnae and Donte were slow learners and aggressive.
Charlene wasn't sure she could deal with them just yet. She had just had another baby, her seventh. With Charnae and Donte, she would have six children at home - her eldest son, Timothy, 12, was not returned.
"I can handle only so many kids," she told social workers.
"It's like this, Ms. Wise," one replied. "You either take them now or we put them up for adoption."
"I'll take them," she said.
Charnae, who had been slow to walk, now wouldn't sit still. If Charlene gave her dolls, she would rip their hair out and yank off their clothes. Donte was the same.
To calm them, Charlene banned candy. She tried the time-out method. She yelled. She had neither partner nor extended family to help her. The house on Harper Street rang with her screams:
"Stop it! Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!"
Donte and Charnae defeated her at every turn. Donte would prop a chair against the kitchen cabinet, climb onto the stove and take candy out of a jar. Then he'd race upstairs and share the loot with Charnae.
She was the quiet one. Charlene called her a "sneaky little beaver."
Charlene did not have the patience or the skill to deal with them. She slapped them, hit them with shoes and hairbrushes, pummeled them with her fists.
That only made things worse. Charnae and Donte wet their beds and soiled the mattresses. Charlene banned them from drinking water after 9 p.m. - and jammed shut the tap on the bathroom sink. Donte responded by twisting his head under the bathtub tap. Charnae drank from the toilet.
Denisha was another worry. At 15, she became a mother, making Charlene, at 32, a grandmother. In 1995, Charlene gave birth to her eighth child - with a fifth father.
Through it all, she smoked crack.
She had a 9 p.m. bedtime rule for the children. At 11, she would slip out of the house and buy some "get-high."
Depending on her money situation - she was receiving welfare checks for three children and Social Security checks for three others - she would go out for crack many times a night. Sometimes, she would still be smoking when the children woke up in the morning and asked for help going to school.
Too tired to get out of bed, she would tell them to stay home and watch television.
If anyone outside the house had cared to look, there were numerous signs that the family was headed downhill.
On Feb. 23, 1996, Charnae was rushed to Hahnemann University Hospital with a severe scalp infection. She was withdrawn and apathetic. Hospital records show that staff worried Charlene was using drugs.
In October, the city Department of Human Services (DHS) - responsible for ensuring the safety of Charlene's children - received word that Donte had gone to school with a black eye. The boy said that Charlene had hit him with a broom.
Another report said Kadedra was injured after she put her leg on a hot plate to warm herself. Her pants caught fire and she suffered second- and third-degree burns.
On Christmas Eve 1996, Charlene and Denisha had a huge fight. Charlene did not give Denisha's son the Christmas toy she had promised. On Christmas Day, Denisha, then 17, took her son and moved out.
That left six children in the house on Harper Street alone with Charlene. The oldest was Kadedra. She was 9.
Charlene's addiction had its rituals. Each night, after the children were in bed, she would lovingly organize her drugs, her cigarettes and her beer.
She was chasing what drug users call the "ghost," the euphoria she'd had when she first started using.
She needed absolute quiet because the drugs made her paranoid. She called it "bugging." If she thought she heard a car on the street, she thought the police were coming for her.
Like an athlete preparing for a race, she needed to concentrate.
And then she would hear a creak - Charnae and Donte creeping around in the back bedroom again. They seemed to have a sixth sense about when she was getting high.
If she yelled at them to stop, the high went away.
If she leapt up to hit them, the feeling vanished.
If she slapped them and made them cry, her mood disintegrated.
One day in 1997, blind with anger, she grabbed them both and pushed them into the basement. She didn't shut the door, but the basement was dark and dirty and they were terrified. When she let them out a little while later, they had cried so much that they went right to sleep.
She had found a way to get high in peace.
Charlene found it easy to fool social workers. She yelled at them when they paid surprise visits and demanded they give her advance notice. She cleaned the house and stocked the refrigerator before the scheduled visits.
She recalled receiving compliments from them on her housekeeping.
They did not spot her drug paraphernalia. Charlene burned incense to mask the smell of crack.
She recalls one asking, "Ms. Wise, are you getting high?"
"No."
"We're going to start giving you random drug tests."
But they never did. In spring 1997, she started barring social workers from the house. She was smoking heavily and wasn't ready even for scheduled inspections.
The Juvenile Justice Center, a private Germantown agency that the Department of Human Services contracted to provide services to the family, referred the case back to the city.
"We can't push our way in," executive director Richard Chapman said. "If cooperation is not forthcoming, we write to DHS and say we can't ensure the welfare of the children."
Charlene remembered DHS workers knocked on her door. She refused to open it. They called her on the phone and threatened to call the police. She gave them an appointment to visit.
A social worker visited June 4. Charlene opened the door. All she wanted to do was get high and sleep. She told the social worker that she had stopped letting DHS into the house because she was leaving town.
Shortly thereafter, DHS closed its file on Charlene Wise.
According to DHS's own rules, cases cannot be closed without assessing whether the children are living in a safe home.
That assessment was never made.
The basement had no fan or air conditioning, and its window was nailed shut. Putting Charnae and Donte down there in the summer heat troubled Charlene.
But after a few times, it got easier. It helped that social workers no longer bothered her and she stayed high all day and all night.
Charnae and Donte seemed to get used to the basement, so Charlene shut the door and left them there longer. Sometimes she could hear them playing together and laughing.
The punishment had a marked effect on Donte, who grew quieter. Charlene decided to stop punishing him. Now when Charnae misbehaved, Charlene put her in the basement by herself.
Each hour the little girl was shut away meant an hour of peace. Each night she was locked up meant a good "get-high." Each time Charnae came out of the basement unharmed, after longer and longer periods of confinement, it seemed less and less like a terrible thing.
Charnae would knock on the door when she wanted to go to the bathroom. Charlene would let her out, bathe her and feed her. Charnae would play with her siblings. Then she would go back down.
The novel punishment became routine. The abnormal became normal.
The balance tipped noiselessly: Charnae wasn't being put in the basement now and then. She was being let out now and then.
Then even that stopped. Charlene would leave a plate of food on the top step as she cleaned up or fed the other children. Sometimes the food would be gone when Charlene returned; often the plate would be untouched.
In July, Charlene went all the way down to the basement and saw that Charnae was using a bucket as a potty.
On Aug. 21, a month before Charnae's sixth birthday, Charlene opened the basement door. The little girl was sitting on the top step.
"Tub time," Charlene said.
Charlene bathed Charnae and combed her hair.
Charnae didn't look good. She stumbled as she walked.
The thought of taking her to a doctor frightened Charlene because no one outside the house would understand; the basement punishment was a family secret.
"What's the matter with you?" Charlene asked.
Charnae was silent.
Charlene steeled herself - there was nothing wrong with the little girl. She never did walk straight. She was just tired; she probably needed sleep.
Charlene led her back to the basement. There was no thought of punishment anymore - Charnae hadn't done anything wrong. The basement had simply become the place where she stayed.
Charnae went quietly. Charlene shut the door behind her.
Frank Wise's car broke down a few blocks from his sister's house one July evening while Charnae was dying. He was with his fiancee. They decided to walk over to Charlene's for the night.
His niece Gwen opened the door. The children were excited to see Uncle Frank. His mind was on the broken-down car as he slept that night on the living room couch. He didn't think to make a head count and didn't ask where Charnae was.
He did recall that the house was quieter. He knew that Charnae was a difficult child.
The next morning, Frank saw Gwen and Kadedra, but he was worried about his car and didn't wonder about Charnae.
Other family members dropped by that summer, marching up Charlene's front steps, past the boarded-up basement window, a few feet from Charnae.
At a July 4 family get-together, Charlene's 17-year-old son, Timothy, who had long been on his own, told Charlene, "I bet if I go down to the basement, I would find Charnae."
"Go ahead!" Charlene dared him.
He didn't go.
Many of Charlene's relatives had troubles of their own. Frank had been on probation for attempted theft. Barbara, Charlene's sister, was on probation for holding up a fast-food restaurant. Charlene's sister, Darlene, a fellow crack addict and prostitute, was to be found unconscious in a city shelter on April 23, 1998. She later died and was taken to the morgue, where city officials waited to hear from worried relatives.
No one called.
The family had never been close. Children came and went in an unceasing cycle of foster care, group homes and social workers. Children were born, children were taken away, children returned.
A concerned neighbor, Tammy Dennis, invited Charlene to church one Sunday. Charlene promised to attend with her children. But when Dennis came to pick them up, no one answered the door.
Dennis, who grew up on the block, remembered a time when children ran freely in and out of one another's homes. Then crack arrived. People became secretive. They closed their doors and windows. Dennis, a poised and collected woman, returned to the block in 1996 after two years in Indiana. She had to learn a new, unspoken rule: "You see what you see, but you see nothing."
Charlene herself lied about what was happening, but she lied poorly. She told her cousin Len Margarita Wise that Charnae was at Harper Street. She told Len's mother that Charnae was with relatives in North Carolina.
In the late summer, she phoned Denisha, then 18, who had last seen her younger sister in May. Denisha had thought Charnae looked malnourished.
"The foster care people have come to take her away," Charlene said on the phone. "They are pulling out in their car now. . . . Charnae is looking out of the window and is waving at me. . . . Look at all those nosy neighbors looking."
A few days later, Denisha casually asked her mother which neighbors had seen Charnae being taken away.
"No one."
Charnae was dying. But Charlene couldn't bring herself to articulate the thought. On Aug. 22, 1997, she sent Kadedra and Gwen down to check on their sister.
She was too afraid to go herself.
The two small children had not seen Charnae in a while. When they returned from the basement, they were hysterical: "Charnae is real bad off."
Charlene calmed them down. She told them to say nothing about it - it was a family secret.
A little while later, Charnae knocked on the basement door.
"Mommy, can I have some water?"
Charlene opened the door and gave her a glass. Charnae looked weak. Charlene shut the door.
On Aug. 23, Charlene carried a plate with hot dogs and spaghetti halfway down the basement stairs. She handed the plate to Charnae.
"Thank you."
"I'll be back," Charlene said. She was going to a birthday party for her grandson at Denisha's house.
"OK."
Charlene dressed and got ready to leave. On her way out, she shouted, "I'll see you when I get back, baby."
If Charnae replied, Charlene didn't hear.
At the party, she took Denisha aside and said she had something important to tell her: Charnae wasn't going to make it till next week.
Denisha drove Charlene home that night. She demanded to see Charnae. Charlene refused and had Denisha drop her off a block from home. She walked the rest of the way.
Once home, she turned on all the lights. The thought of Charnae in the basement had clung to her all evening like a shroud.
She threw open the basement door.
"Charnae," she called out. "Charnae, you down there?"
Silence.
Charlene scrambled down the steps. The little girl was lying on the floor in the fetal position. Charlene bent down and touched her. Charnae felt cold and hard.
Charlene jerked her hand back. She spun around and ran up the unsteady stairs. She didn't stop when she reached the landing, didn't stop until she reached the bathroom on the second floor. She slipped inside and jammed the door shut behind her.
Call 911. The thought terrified her. She couldn't. She just couldn't.
The children need me, she thought.
She turned on the tap so that the other children would not hear her cries. And then, muffled by the sound of rushing water, she wept. For the child who had died, for what she had done, and for all she was going to have to pay.
On Sept. 16, 1997, police found Charnae's skeleton, arrested Charlene and charged her with murder.
Joan Reeves, commissioner of the Department of Human Services, called Charnae's death "unimaginable" and ordered an internal investigation of the case.
The results were never made public. The agency declined all requests for interviews for this article, citing pending litigation.
The following year, a state review of the DHS internal investigation found a string of serious lapses in which the agency had not followed its own policies for child safety: There were times when no social worker was assigned to the family. A required risk assessment was not conducted in February 1997. There was no record-keeping during the crucial period between February 1997 and Charnae's death. Long-term family plans were not made. The case was arbitrarily closed.
In a statement about its responsibility, DHS told state investigators "at no time was there a determination that acts of commission or omission by the department or its agents could have predicted or prevented the tragedy that befell this child."
In March, Charlene was convicted of third-degree murder. Judge James Lineberger sentenced her to 28 to 56 years in prison.
In July, Denisha Wise decided to sue the city and state on behalf of her dead sister, charging that DHS had failed in its duty to protect Charnae.
"DHS and the state were grossly negligent and recklessly indifferent," said Neil Perloff, Denisha's lawyer.
"If I come into money, it would be for my siblings," Denisha said. "I will make sure they have a nice education like I never had. I will get Charnae a headstone. We had no money to get Charnae a headstone. Whatever is left for me, I don't care."
On a scorching summer afternoon, Darnell Harris took one lunging step to the left of a gravestone marked "Perkins."
The grave-digger then took two steps down and drew his boot across the grass to mark the spot of Charnae's grave. He looked up to see whether it aligned with the haphazard markers strewn around. He then revised his estimate by two feet.
"Here," he said confidently.
Actually Charnae's grave was a little to the left of Harris' calculation - Denisha had placed a small marker on the ground that read "Sister."
At the Merion Memorial Park in Bala Cynwyd, no stone marks Charnae's final rest. No epitaph describes her days. For a life so short, so brutal and unloved, what would it say?
Isaiah Jeremiah
It would have taken only one person to save Isaiah Jeremiah Isaiah Jeremiah never knew his name.
He died within minutes of being born, dumped in a rest room trash can at Muskegon High School by his mother, a 16-year-old sophomore. The girl's stepfather, 44, admitted to police that he was the baby's father. He's awaiting trial for first-degree sexual assault. But that's not going to help Isaiah Jeremiah, whose death haunts a community that could have intervened but failed to act. Signs of trouble were there long before Isaiah Jeremiah's fleeting passage through this world. Police believe the baby was the second the stepdad fathered by his stepdaughter. The first is 19 months old now and lived in the same home where police say the stepdaughter was molested since she was 7. Police felt something was horribly wrong after that first child was born, but they couldn't prove anything. The girl denied having sex with her stepfather; a boyfriend said the baby could have been his. Police say the girl did her best to keep the pregnancy a secret, hiding it under baggy clothes and jackets. She did not see a doctor, who might have reported a case of suspected child abuse. Her school did nothing to help her. Especially in light of the first birth, it seems as if someone outside the home had to know, or at least should have asked, and someone -- a teacher, counselor, friend, relative -- should have at least made an anonymous report to Children's Protective Services. It may take a village to raise a child, but sometimes it takes just one person to keep a child from danger. The girl's mother worked long hours at two clerical jobs and apparently just looked away while her husband horribly abused a girl he was entrusted to protect. The girl's relationship to her mother, and her mother's relationship to herself, are the linchpins that broke. The daughter apparently felt she could not turn to her mother, and the mother had neither the will nor the strength to stop the abuse. The mother could be charged with neglect. But that's not going to help Isaiah Jeremiah. It's easy to say the girl should have called out for help. But few adults can imagine the paralyzing fear and shame she must have felt. More than a month after Isaiah's death, prosecutors are still trying to decide what, if any, charges to bring against her. The Muskegon County medical examiner's office is trying to determine whether the baby suffocated, drowned or died some other way. The young mother says Isaiah Jeremiah just ceased to breathe. Chances are the teen will face a charge that will keep her under court jurisdiction without sending her to prison. A good student, though quiet and withdrawn, she wants to return to school. She's going to need a lot of therapy and other kinds of assistance. But that's not going to help Isaiah Jeremiah. For now, the teen is living with a relative in Muskegon, receiving counseling and getting homework from her high school teachers. She hasn't been publicly identified, but Muskegon's not a big city. People know. "All of us are questioning ourselves," says one community leader. "It's raised a lot of questions about whether there was something we should have done or something we should have known." The questions come too late for Isaiah Jeremiah, the child who never knew his name. His legacy may be that some people never forget it. December 7, 2000
Isaiah Luqman Abdul-Qabid 11-week-old
"And when the loudest voice that they have comes from the grave -- saying why didn't you do something for me?
Beaten baby "didn't stand a chance"
Critical breakdown in protection system thwarted opportunity to save infant's life.
Almost everything had to go wrong for Isaiah Luqman Abdul-Qabid to die.
His mother neglected him.
The Marion County prosecutor's office did not act against his father in time.
And repeated efforts by Child Protection Services to help the 11-week-old Indianapolis boy ended in futility.
According to interviews and a confidential child protection report obtained by The Star, a case manager responded to a complaint -- filed a few days before Isaiah's death in May 1998 -- that the baby's dad was abusing him. But her effort to intervene failed.
"She attempted to see the baby, but the family was avoiding her and would not let her in," the report said.
The case manager did not call for law enforcement assistance to gain access to the child -- "and then we heard the baby died."
Said Cathy Graban, an Indianapolis Police Department child abuse detective: "It almost seems like he didn't stand a chance . . . because of all the things that did go wrong in his life."
Isaiah suffered blunt force injuries to his chest and abdomen, and broken blood vessels in his lungs and heart. He had healed rib fractures, suggesting repeated abuse.
The baby's father, Elmer J. Saxton, pleaded guilty to neglect of a dependent, Isaiah, and child molesting. The latter charge stemmed from Saxton having had intercourse with Isaiah's mother when she was a minor; she was 12 when she conceived Isaiah. Because of her age and the nature of the crime, The Star is withholding her name.
Saxton was sentenced to 30 years in prison.
Authorities say Saxton, 24, has denied abusing the baby. But his violent behavior toward Isaiah is strongly made in police records reviewed by The Star.
According to statements given by Isaiah's mother, Saxton shook the child, punched him, gave him spoiled milk, blew marijuana smoke in his face and stuffed socks in his mouth to make him stop crying.
"Isaiah fought for as long as he could," said Kristina Marie Korobov, chief of the Marion County Prosecutor's Domestic Violence Unit. But she said there comes a point when an abused baby will stop crying because it only provokes more abuse.
Toward the end, Korobov said, Isaiah's response "was no longer tears."
Communication breakdown
After Isaiah's mother informed Saxton she was pregnant, police records show, he told her he "wasn't ready for no baby." He told others the baby was not his.
In September 1997, Child Protection Services received a complaint about the pregnancy. The girl said she did not know the whereabouts of the father, nor was she very cooperative, a child protection report said.
Isaiah was born Feb. 22, 1998.
In March, Child Protection Services received another complaint.
This one alleged Isaiah had missed medical appointments and that his mother "could not demonstrate the ability to properly care for the infant." A hospital social worker expressed grave concerns about the mother's knowledge of how to care for the child and the condition of the infant, the report said.
Around that time, Indianapolis police began to investigate the allegation of child molesting. When the investigator left IPD, Graban took over the inquiry.
In late April 1998, Graban said, she submitted the case against Saxton to the prosecutor's office.
Korobov confirmed that the molesting charge still was under review when Isaiah died about 21/2 weeks later.
Prosecutors had been considering seeking a court-ordered paternity test on Saxton. Getting results back would have taken six to eight weeks. Korobov said her office felt no urgency to press charges against Saxton because it had no indication that either Isaiah or his mother was in danger.
Authorities had believed Isaiah and his mother were away from Saxton. After all, upon learning of her daughter's pregnancy, Isaiah's grandmother had confronted Saxton.
"From that spot right there," she told police, "I put him out."
What Graban did not know: Saxton had returned when Isaiah was about 2 months old.
The detective also said she was not informed of the May 1998 complaint to Child Protection Services that Saxton was abusing the baby until after Isaiah's death.
"I just felt sick," she said.
A baby's horror
Isaiah, his mother told police, was no crybaby.
But after Saxton came back, the child cried a lot, she said.
Once, after she said she wanted her son to be athletic, Saxton allegedly grabbed the baby's legs and moved them quickly back and forth. "Look at him, he can run . . . he's going to be a boxer," Saxton said.
But Saxton pulled the baby's legs back so far that the child cried out in pain, Isaiah's mother told investigators.
Sometimes, she said, Saxton held the baby by his waist. "He'd shake him, and his head would go back and forth."
Isaiah's mother told police she tried to protect him from his father.
"I was like, you know, I was getting mad about him, you know, doing my son like that. I just snatched my son away from him, out of his arms when he was shaking him.
"I was like, no, you can't be doing him like that."
On May 13, 1998, Saxton was baby-sitting Isaiah while his mom visited a relative. She returned and took a nap.
Upon awakening, she checked on the baby.
She recalled to police: "He was stiff, and I picked him up. He was cold . . . his lips were blue . . . I sit there for a minute and I was like Isaiah, I didn't even cry, I was just in a state of shock.
"And then something got to me and I said ah, I just started screaming, oh my God, oh my God, and I laid him back down."
Time for change
Prosecutors suspected Saxton inflicted the fatal injuries. Proving it was another matter. Other adults lived in the home and also had the opportunity, Korobov said.
So instead of pressing murder, the county charged Saxton with neglect, along with the molesting charge that had been pending.
Korobov said the baby's mother could have been charged with failing to report child abuse. But authorities decided not to, partly because of the girl's background.
Said Korobov: "She was a neglected child as well."
After Isaiah's death, the Marion County child protection office adopted reforms to improve communication with local police, said John Jay Boyce, director of the Family and Social Services Administration's Division of Family and Children.
Still, to Korobov, the change most needed is in people's attitudes.
"Every day we see parents who grab their children with way too much force in the grocery store, and we turn our backs because it's embarrassing," she said. "Or we see parents who are yelling and screaming at their children, and we don't do anything."
Young children, she said, cannot speak for themselves.
"And so we have to ask ourselves: If we're not willing to speak up for them, who's going to?
"And when the loudest voice that they have comes from the grave -- saying why didn't you do something for me? -- I think that's a sad day."
Tap, tap, tap. A little finger poked Nathan Mohler's shoulder. "I think you're my brother," said a blue - eyed little boy with shiny blonde hair.
For most of their lives the Grays Harbor boys had been separated from each other while being shuffled through the foster care system. Andy Mohler, the youngest, was adopted not long after he tapped his big brother's shoulder, and the chance meeting that summer afternoon at a 4 - H camp in Mason County would be their last.
Andy Mohler, later renamed Shawn Lawrence by his adoptive parents, died while on a fishing trip with his new dad and a young friend on Oct. 9, 1999 - about a year after his adoption. At first the 10 - year - old's death was ruled accidental. It was determined that he slipped, hit his head - perhaps on some rocks - and drowned in the remote Brown Creek Campground area north of Shelton. Weeks later, police learned the adoptive parents took out $650,000 in life insurance policies on their new son.
. ...When Andy was adopted, the ties with his biological mother weren't the only ones severed - his brothers lost their rights to contact Andy, too. Mohler doesn't think that was right. Tears turned to anger when he found out his brother had been dead for at least a week, and that the autopsy and cremation had already come and gone.
"I understand that it was a closed adoption and everything, but his biological mom and siblings should have been contacted," Mohler said.
"....Andy had an abrasion in the back of his head, like he fell and hit his head," Mohler said. "But there wasn't any debris in the cut. It makes me think that he didn't fall first. That someone hit him."
.....He's afraid the longer the case goes on, the more chance there is that it will be forgotten - that he'll never know what really happened to his little brother. That's why he decided to talk to the media, including NBC's "Dateline," believing that his speaking out will help keep the investigation alive. The TV segment is expected to be aired nationwide sometime soon.
..... On the fishing trip, detectives said, the adoptive father separated the two boys and later asked the friend to help him look for Andy.
The mother attempted to cash out one of the life insurance policies five days after the death.
Rickiana Campbell 2-year-old
Just call me, call me, that's all," Mercurius said, her voice trailing off. "I could've helped.I knew something was wrong, but there was nothing I could do. The agency wouldn't let me"
Brooklyn, NY -- Sept. 14, 1999 -- A Brooklyn mother who was being monitored by child-welfare officials confessed yesterday to beating her 2-year-old daughter to death with a plastic doll ? just seven months after regaining custody of the girl, authorities said.
Little Rickiana Campbell, who was visited monthly by a social worker, was a victim of "child abuse syndrome," authorities said. Her body was covered with bruises and she had a fractured skull, officials said.
Cops yesterday arrested Rickiana's mother, Venisha Clark, 21, who had lost custody of the girl and another child in 1997 while she was in jail.
Clark, of Bedford-Stuyvesant, called 911 about 5:30 p.m. Sunday, saying her daughter was unconscious. The girl was taken to New York Methodist Hospital, where she died hours later, police said.
Under questioning by 77th Precinct detectives, Clark broke down and said she had hit her daughter over the head with a 10-inch-tall action figure to stop her from crying, cops said. She was charged with murder.
"Nobody knows what happened. Only God and her knows," said Clark's sister, Lisa Sophia, 28, who lives next door to the family's Park Place apartment. "I know she is a good mother who loves her babies."
A social worker who made monthly visits to Clark and her three children ? Rickiana, 3-year-old Bobby and 10-month-old Paul ? did not report any abuse, cops said.
"The matter is under investigation," said Jennifer Falk, a spokeswoman for the Administration for Children's Services.
Child-welfare officials became involved with the family in 1997, after Clark was arrested for shoplifting.
While she served a 38-day sentence at Rikers Island, Clark left her children with a female friend in the Bronx.
During that time, the woman severely beat Bobby, sending him to the hospital with serious injuries, cops said. The woman was jailed, and Clark's children were sent to foster homes, cops said.
After she got out of jail and attended mandatory parenting classes, Clark regained custody of Bobby in June 1998; Rickiana came home in February 1999, sources said.
Sept. 15, 1999 -- City officials yesterday were investigating how a social worker missed bruises inflicted over a series of months on a 2-year-old Brooklyn girl who authorities said was ultimately beaten to death by her mother.
The social worker, employed by the Administration for Children's Services, did not report seeing any signs of abuse on little Rickiana Campbell, who died Sunday.
"We don't know what happened," said ACS spokeswoman Jennifer Falk, who did not further identify the social worker. "It's all under investigation."
Venisha Clark, 21, was charged Monday with killing Rickiana after confessing to beating the girl over the head with a 10-inch action figure because the child would not stop crying, authorities said.
Officials said Rickiana was a victim of "child abuse syndrome" and had numerous bruises and a fractured skull.
It was not the first time Clark's children suffered abuse. A baby-sitter, Betty Chambers, was arrested in 1998 for beating Clark's oldest son, Bobby, 3, so severely she caused liver damage and bleeding to his head and eyes, court records show.
Chambers, who was caring for Bobby and Rickiana at her Bronx home while their mother served a jail sentence for shoplifting, admitted hitting the boy, court records show.
"He has been getting on my nerve [sic]. I've been doing cruel stuff ... [I'm] always roughing him," Chambers told police after her arrest. She later said the statement was coerced.
After Chambers' arrest, the children were taken from Clark, who was charged with child neglect, Falk said.
Clark regained custody of Bobby in November 1998 and Rickiana last February after attending parenting classes. The court-ordered social worker was assigned to visit the family once a month, Falk said.
Sept. 16, 1999 -- A foster mom who once cared for a 2-year-old Brooklyn girl later beaten to death ? allegedly by her mother ? said yesterday child welfare officials ignored her pleas to adopt the toddler.
Little Rickiana Campbell, who authorities said suffered numerous bruises and fractures after being returned to her mother in February, had begged her foster mother, Cicely Mercuris, to take her back, Mercuris said.
"She would cry, 'Please let me come home,'" a tearful Mercuris told the Daily News.
"She used to be a feisty, jolly little thing. It broke my heart.
"I wanted to give this child a family life," she added.
"Little Ricki was so happy here, she would wrap her arms around me and say, 'I love you.'
"Then she went there and her mother would never let me see her. I knew something was wrong, but there was nothing I could do. The agency wouldn't let me," Mercuris said.
Rickiana died Sunday, a victim of child abuse syndrome, authorities said.
Venisha Clark, 21, was charged with murder after confessing she beat her daughter with a plastic doll because the girl wouldn't stop crying, cops said.
The city's Administration for Children's Services is investigating how the social worker assigned to monitor Rickiana and her two siblings missed signs of abuse during monthly visits.
"We are investigating all of the aspects of the case," said ACS spokeswoman Leonora Wiener, who added that no calls about Rickiana were received by an abuse hotline.
Wiener declined to comment on Mercuris' claims, but confirmed the 50-year-old Brooklyn woman was Rickiana's foster mom from July 1998 to February.
Rickiana and her 3-year-old brother, Bobby, were placed into foster care after the boy was severely beaten by a family friend, authorities said.
Clark had regained custody of Bobby and Rickiana after taking parenting classes.
Mercuris said she plans to raise money to give a proper burial to the child who, for seven months, called her "Mommy."
"I have to give her a good sendoff, poor sad little baby," Mercuris said through sobs.
"It hurts me what must have passed through her little mind when this was happening to her," she said.
"And it hurts me to think I was right here the whole time."
Sept. 26, 1999 -- In the days after 2-year-old Rickiana Campbell was beaten to death, allegedly by her mother, no relative stepped forward to claim the toddler's remains.
She was bound for a pauper's grave in Potter's Field, the city's burial ground for the unclaimed dead.
Rickiana's neighbors found that unacceptable, and yesterday they banded together to give her a proper funeral and a show of love that was so sorely missing from her life.
"We did it because it was the right thing to do," said Vanessa Reed, misty-eyed after the brief service at St. Lucy Old Catholic Church on Kent Ave. in Brooklyn.
The church donated the cost of the service. Rickiana's foster mother paid for the tiny pink casket. Neighbors raised $700 for flowers and wreaths.
"At least she went away with formality," said Msgr. Elias Milazzo, who attended the service. "Love and nurturing. Maybe at this late hour, she got what she never had."
Rickiana died Sept. 12, a victim of child abuse. Her mother, Venisha Clark, 21, of Bedford-Stuyvesant, was charged with murder after confessing that she beat Rickiana with a plastic doll because the child would not stop crying.
Her death culminated a short, stormy life in which she bounced between foster care and her mother's apartment. Rickiana and her brother Bobby, 3, were placed in foster care last year after the boy was beaten by a family friend.
Their mother regained custody in February after taking parenting classes.
"Rickiana should still be here," said her foster mother, Cicely Mercurius. "I told her mother that if there was a problem, all she had to do was call me.
"Just call me, call me, that's all," Mercurius said, her voice trailing off. "I could've helped."
More than 100 mourners went to the child's wake Friday night. About two dozen attended the funeral. They heard Bishop Vincent Crisci describe Rickiana as "an infant who will never know what it is to grow up here on Earth, who will never have the things girls have."
After an array of prayers, the pastor asked if anyone had anything to say. Tony Burke, 25, a nephew of the toddler's foster mother, rose and recalled how Rickiana once called out his name.
"I didn't even know she could talk," Burke said. "She always had these little surprises."
"We got to take care of our kids," he said. "This craziness has got to stop."
An usher opened the casket, and the mourners and a cluster of small children filed by for a final look at Rickiana, her small body covered with white lace.
A man bowed his head. A woman put her arm around a little girl who stood next to her. They followed the casket onto the street and watched as it was loaded into the back of a hearse for the trip to Rosehill Cemetary in New Jersey.
"She never had a chance," said Emily Delgado, shaking her head as the procession drove off. "Such a shame."
Logan E. Bratton 3-year-old
3-year-old who loved dogs and trampolines
Cops suspect abuse in local boy's death
By Greg Cima Pantagraph 4/5/07
BLOOMINGTON -- A boy who flashed his eyes at little girls and loved to play with SpongeBob SquarePants toys may have died because of abuse, authorities said Thursday.
Three-year-old Logan E. Bratton of Bloomington was pronounced dead about 8:40 p.m. Wednesday at OSF Saint Francis Medical Center in Peoria, police said. Peoria County Coroner Johnna Ingersoll said the boy was unresponsive when rescue workers initially took him to BroMenn Regional Medical Center in Normal.
"The indications are that the injuries Logan sustained are non-accidental," Ingersoll said. She wouldn't comment on his cause of death or signs of trauma because the case is being investigated as a homicide.
The boy lived with his mother and her boyfriend in Bloomington, Ingersoll said. Ingersoll said the 911 call was made at 12:18 p.m. Wednesday, and fire department logs show an ambulance dispatched at that time went to the 800 block of West Washington Street.
A police squad car sat in that block Thursday afternoon, and a police officer answered the door at an apartment at 818 W. Washington St. when a Pantagraph reporter knocked. An officer remained stationed late Thursday night at the doorway of the apartment.
Bloomington police issued a short statement about the boy's death about noon Thursday, but could not be reached later in the day and throughout the evening.
Willie Bratton of Peoria, who identified himself as Logan's father, said he called police late Sunday afternoon after a relative told him the boy was bruised.
Bratton said he hadn't seen the boy since December. The boy's mother had custody of the child, he said.
Bratton described Logan as an average 3-year-old who loved dogs and trampolines. Bratton said he was at OSF Saint Francis until late Wednesday, and he commended hospital workers for their compassion.
Logan's grandmother, Connie Smith of Peoria, said Logan was cheerful but shy. Yet, he liked to pucker his lips and flash his eyes at little girls, she said.
Smith said Logan lived with her on and off for half his life, or "maybe a little more." She said the boy enjoyed playing with SpongeBob SquarePants and Dragon Ball Z toys, eating chicken strips, playing basketball and watching cartoons.
Her grandson loved hugs and kisses and asked Smith to lift him, she said.
"?Grandma, I wanna hold you,' " Smith quoted Logan as saying. "?I just want to hold you.'"
Toddler's death possible homicide
By Jessica Wheeler WHOI Thursday, April 05, 2007
Bloomington Police and the department of children and family services are investigating the death of a 3-year-old boy.
Logan Bratton was pronounced dead at 8:30 Wednesday night at OSF Saint Francis Medical Center.
The Peoria County Coroner says they are investigating the death as a homicide.
Bloomington police say it appears Logan died from abuse.
"There's evidence probably from, there's physical evidence from the boy's body and probably some conversations with our detectives and the personal in the coroners office in Peoria that indicates that it's a potential cause of the death," said Duane Moss with the Bloomington Police Department.
We spoke with Logan's father, Willie Bratton, who does not have custody of the toddler, he believes Logan's mother and boyfriend are responsible for the abuse.
Bratton says he was notified by a relative of the child's mother this past weekend that the boy was being abused.
Bratton said he called Bloomington Police on Sunday to report the abuse and nothing was done.
"Saturday my mother was called by the same aunt who said Logan was in town for a birthday party and said that he was bruised on his rear end and he had marks on his face and a he had a piece missing off his tongue where they think he bit his tongue off," said Willie Bratton.
Bratton was then notified on Wednesday afternoon that Logan was in the hospital and had little chance to live.
"When I seen him he was in a coma, he had no brain wave activity what so ever, he wasn't conscious he was on a ventilator - all the scary stuff that you see on TV that you never want for you kid."
Bloomington Police would not say if they were investigating Logan's mother before the incident occurred.
We also called DCFS who said they received a complaint of neglect against Logan's mother on March 26th and investigated it promptly. They would not say what the investigation involved.
No arrests have been made.
Boy's death under investigation Bloomington child died of head injuries
BY FITZGERALD M. DOUBET THE JOURNAL STAR Friday, April 6, 2007
BLOOMINGTON - The death of a 3-year-old Bloomington boy who suffered head injuries is being investigated as a homicide, Peoria County Coroner Johnna Ingersoll said Thursday. Logan Bratton was pronounced dead at about 8:40 p.m. Wednesday at OSF Saint Francis Medical Center in Peoria.
Because of his head injuries, it was "just a matter of hours because he was declared brain dead," Ingersoll said.
Logan lived with his mother, Donetta Ernst, at 818 W. Washington, Apt. A. Paramedics took him to BroMenn Regional Medical Center in Normal after a 911 call from his home shortly before noon Wednesday. He was transferred by LifeFlight helicopter to St. Francis.
In a brief news release Thursday, Bloomington police said the boy's death is believed to have resulted from abuse, but there have been no arrests.
"I don't want revenge. I just want justice," Willie Bratton, 29, Logan's father, said Thursday.
Bratton alleges his son was in an abusive situation with Ernst and her boyfriend, and he had asked officials to investigate.
"Somebody didn't do their job," Bratton said. "I did what I was supposed to do the right way. I called the police. I reported it."
In their news release, Bloomington police said no other information can be released at this time because their investigation is at a early stage.
Gladys Campbell 2-year-old
Gladys Campbell was beaten to death by her foster mother.
Philadelphia, PA -- On June 9, 1988, Gladys Campbell was beaten to death by her foster mother, Colleen Chavez, who was sentenced to a seven-year-term in prison after pleading guilty to aggravated manslaughter.
Philadelphia authorities had taken Gladys from her natural mother, a drug addict judged incapable of caring for her. They in turn referred Gladys to the Easton institution which in turn placed Gladys in the foster family.
Glady's grandmother, also named Gladys Campbell filed a federal lawsuit against the city of Philadelphia and the Easton institution and it's director. The city has settled with the terms of the settlement being secret. The case is not pending against the remaining defendants.
The Easton home through a contract with Philadelphia provided placement for minors referred from the city's Department of Human Services.
The basic claim of the lawsuit was depriving the child of her life without due process as well as counts for wrongful death and survival action.
The grandmother charged that the defendants placed the child in an out-of-state foster home without adequately investigating the foster parents and without notifying her relatives.
A U.S. District Judge in a pretrial ruling let stand all claims against the Children's Home and its director.
He recited six types of failure of the home and the administrator in screening and supervising foster parents for the 2-year-old.
Those included providing no training for foster parents, disregarding minimum requirements for supervising them and failing to comply with regulations for screening them.
Those factors could lead a jury to conclude the home and its director acted with deliberate indifference to the child's welfare, the judge said.
But he dismissed counts of wrongful death and survival action against the Philadelphia defendants.
He left the due process claim.
The judge said the Philadelphia agency had a monitoring unit to check service providers like the Easton home, but it did little monitoring.
That could be interpreted as a "policy of inaction or insufficient action" leading to depriving the child of her life without due process.
Lydia Alday 2-year-old
Death of toddler in foster care under investigation
(6/09/07 - KTRK/BRAZORIA COUNTY, TX) - A two-year-old girl died in her foster home in Brazoria County last night. It happened just a day before her father was supposed to get custody of her and her younger brother.
Child Protective Services is investigating the death, which happened while the little girl was taking a nap.
The police department is investigating the tragic death of Lydia Alday. She was supposed to go home today with her dad, but only her 18-month-old brother Jacob made it.
Yesterday around 6:15pm, police and EMS got a phone call that said that a little girl was not breathing. By the time they got to the foster home to try to revive the girl, it was already too late. She was pronounced dead at the scene.
Today, investigators are looking into the death. They are investigating the death as a suspicious death because the girl was only two years old. They say right now, everyone is cooperating.
The parents lost custody of the kids after CPS determined their living conditions were unsafe. The father was just awarded custody of the kids last week and was supposed to get them today.
The Galveston medical examiner's office is conducting an autopsy to determine the cause of death.
Mia Jorris 2-year-old
Died - March 23,2007
Allen Co. sheriff investigates death of 2-year-old girl
JENNIFER FEEHAN BLADE STAFF WRITER Toledo Blade March 28, 2007
LIMA, Ohio - Saying he was "freaking out," Daniel Stiles told a 911 operator his girlfriend's 2-year-old daughter was "barely breathing."
Her stomach was bloated, he said, and she wouldn't respond to him.
"I hear her crying. I went in the room, and she wouldn't do anything," Mr. Stiles said during the 911 call he placed just before noon Friday.
Allen County sheriff's deputies and paramedics arrived at a duplex on Stevick Road about four miles west of Lima a short time later and rushed the little girl, Mia Jorris, to St. Rita's Medical Center, where she was pronounced dead.
Allen County Sheriff Dan Beck said that while deputies were at the duplex, they found that Mia's 3-year-old brother, Matthew Jorris, also was hurt.
The little boy, who had sustained blunt force trauma to the abdomen, was taken to St. Rita's and then transferred to Toledo Children's Hospital, the sheriff said. A hospital spokesman said she had no information on Matthew.
"He was struck at least once - probably. We're still sorting out what happened," Sheriff Beck said yesterday.
Mr. Stiles, 29, was arraigned yesterday in Lima Municipal Court on one count of felonious assault stemming from the attack on Matthew. Judge William Lauber set bond at $500,000 but said Mr. Stiles could post 10 percent of that. A preliminary hearing was set for April 3.
Sheriff Beck said he anticipated additional charges being filed stemming from the death of Mia, although those may not come until after a grand jury convenes. He said the little girl's death is being investigated as a homicide, although investigators had not yet received the autopsy results.
Dr. Gary Beasley, Allen County coroner, said yesterday that he did not have a "confirmatory cause" of death for Mia and could not comment further on the case, which remains under investigation. An autopsy was conducted Monday at the Lucas County Coroner's Office, Toledo.
Sheriff Beck said detectives interviewed several people, including the children's mother. He said it was unclear where she was at the time the children were assaulted.
"We have a fairly good idea of what happened, but we need to finalize our interviews," he said.
The sheriff said Allen County Children's Services had been to the residence several times prior to Friday's incident.
Scott Ferris, executive director of the child protection agency, said he could not comment on the case because of the ongoing criminal investigation but said his agency was cooperating with the sheriff and prosecutor.
"The case record we have has been seized and is being used as part of the investigation," he said.
Diego Aguado 2-month-old
There are others who share the responsibility too.
Chicago, IL -- Convicted and sentenced to 60 years in prison for Diego Aguado's 1993 death was his father, Saul Aguado, however he has never served a day of that sentence.
He and his wife, who also kidnapped their 8-year-old son, Francisco who had been placed with relatives by Child Protective Services, have been traveling between Mexico and the U.S. with little fear of arrest. Aguado owes his freedom to a cadre of supporters and relatives who, despite his guilty plea, refuse to believe he is a murderer and have helped him escape authorities.
There are others who share the responsibility too. The judge and prosecutor who did not consider him, a Mexican immigrant, a flight risk and so let him remain free prior to the start of his prison term. There are the child welfare officials who failed to stop him and his wife from seeing their surviving son without supervision, a violation of agency rules. And there are local and federal investigators who have done little to track him down, even though a newspaper reporter doing a story on the case was able to locate him in a small village in Mexico and interview him on the telephone.
Now, five years after Diego was killed, and nearly four years after his father pleaded guilty, the murder case is, technically closed even though the confessed killer remains at large.
In a statement to police, Aguado said Diego's crying that morning had angered him. He reached over from his bed and yanked hard on Diego's baby seat, flipping it over. Diego flew out of the seat and rolled across the floor. "His head was pounding on the floor," according to the statement. "Diego stopped rolling because Diego's head slammed into the metal bed frame."
Diego began shaking uncontrollably and had difficulty breathing. He was in a coma for nine months before he died.
Even though Aguado said he never hit his son and because he was tired and scared he decided to tell the police anything they wanted to hear. But the case against him was strong. An autopsy showed that Diego died of massive head injuries that could not have been caused, as Aguado claimed, by chronic respiratory and heart problems. Nor were the injuries caused, as his lawyer argued, accidentally when Aguado tried to revive Diego, according to the coroner who examined him.
Aguado told the judge that law enforcement officials threatened to throw his wife in prison and withhold medical treatment for Diego, who was still in a coma, unless he took responsibility for his son's injuries. The police officer and prosecutor who took Aguado's confession denied in court that they ever threatened him. The judge didn't believe him and the confession would stand. So facing mounting legal bills and a potential 199-year prison sentence if he lost the case, Aguado decided to plead guilty to killing his son in exchange for a 35-year sentence. He was then allowed to remain free on bail until the following month when he was to start his prison sentence.
There are outstanding arrest warrants for Aguado and his wife, who was charged with abducting Francisco. But the Aguados, who are living under assumed names, would have to be arrested in the U.S. on another offense and their real identities discovered through fingerprints before authorities could learn about their fugitive status.
Since Aguado fled, the plea deal was scuttled and the judge increased the sentence to 60 years. Today the couple and their children, they've since had a daughter, are still believed to be in Mexico.
Zion Richardson 3-month-old
May 23 ,2007
The May 23 death of 3-month-old Zion Richardson, which appears to have been a sudden unexplained infant death, but with aspects of a "co-sleeping" death. Zion's family had been under DHS oversight until March 2006.
Brian Wilson 4-year-old
June 12, 2007
Fire victim mourned; Family pleased they had chance to adopt boy and his brother
A four-year-old boy who died in a garage fire Tuesday started out as a tiny miracle after his mother had already adopted his brother two years earlier.
It was a "blessing" when Bobbi Wilson found out that she had the chance to adopt Brian, the blood brother of her son.
"He (Brian) was like a little miracle," said Terri Hazell, his aunt. "And now he's gone. No one expects a four-year-old to die."
Yesterday, as she stood in the yard outside the Lisle home where Brian Wilson lived, about 30 kilometres west of Barrie, fire investigators continued to shuffle through blackened debris in a garage where the boy died.
Fire officials say they still don't know what caused the fire that broke out in the garage, which was used as a tool and garden shed, Tuesday morning.
"All of the kids knew they were not allowed to play in there," Hazell said.
"I guess that makes kids more curious to see what's in there."
Her mouth trembled as she stifled her tears to talk about her nephew.
Other times she smiled as she remembered his favourite toys.
"Fire trucks and dinosaurs," she said.
"And he had a pair of cowboy boots that he would never take off, even when he went to bed."
It was routine to see little Brian roaring around the house wearing his dinosaur costume with his cowboy boots on.
"He was always happy. A real blessing," she said.
Brian's mother had waited 10 years to adopt a child when finally, his older brother, Ben, came along. Two years later, Brian was born, but the Simcoe County Children's Aid Society didn't realize he had a brother until he was five months old.
"It took some piecing of the puzzle to find where he was," Hazell said. "And now he's gone."
She said Brian was supposed to start school in the fall.
She said the family has decided not to disclose funeral details because they want to keep it private.
"It will be hard enough to get through this," Hazell said.
Meanwhile, Adjala-Tosorontio Fire Chief Paul Boissonneault, said the father and son firefighters that made a "heroic" effort to save the boy, remain traumatized over the loss.
He said he was disappointed when he heard that some media reported the father and son, who are volunteers, did not wear proper fire gear.
"That is incorrect," he said. "They were dressed in bunker hats, boots, coats and pants."
He said they did not have a breathing apparatus, but firefighters are trained to work without them.
"They took a risk to save a young boys' life," Boissonneault said.
Boy set deadly blaze: police; Youngster, 4, died of smoke and hot-air inhalation Local News - Friday, June 15, 2007 @ 07:00
The four-year-old boy who died following a garage fire Tuesday in Lisle appears to have accidentally set the blaze himself using materials found in the garage, police said yesterday.
Brian Wilson, 4, was alone at the time. His parents were in the house adjacent to the garage, which is normally locked, when the fire started, Nottawasaga OPP said.
A post-mortem examination conducted Wednesday identified the cause of death as smoke and hot-air inhalation. Toxicology test results will not be available for several weeks. The fire marshal's office has completed its investigation. Their final report is expected to follow toxicology results.
Police were called to the fire scene, located on Concession Road 2 in Adjala-Tosorontio Township, on Tuesday at 11:17 a.m.. The garage was on fire and the boy was trapped inside.
Two volunteer firefighters rushed into the garage and retrieved the boy. He was taken to Stevenson Memorial Hospital in Alliston where he was pronounced dead.
TRACY McLAUGHLIN
Gregory Bryant-Bruce 10-year-old
Judge returns baby to parents mistakenly suspected of abuse - Cheryl and Gregory Bryant-Bruce
A woman whose child was taken from her and her husband 19 months ago after doctors suspected the baby had been abused, screamed and broke into tears after a Clarksville, TN, judge recently ordered that the child be returned to the couple.
"This is just an incredible heady feeling. Exhilaration. Relief I just can't explain the relief," the 2-year-old's mother, Dr. Cheryl Bryant Bruce, said as tears streamed down her face.
U.S. District Judge Robert Wedemeyer said he was acting in the best interest of the child, Gregory Bryant-Bruce Jr., who has a fatal liver condition. It isn't known how long Gregory has to live.
Before he was returned, Gregory's parents didn't know what they were going to say to their son after such a long absence without seeing him. "I'm just going to embrace him and say 'Daddy loves you,'" said Gregory Bryant-Bruce Sr.
They lost custody of Gregory when he was 6 months old after doctors who examined him in Nashville decided on the basis of the bleeding in his eyes and brain that he suffered shaken infant syndrome.
As it turns out, Gregory suffers from Alagille's Syndrome, a rare liver disease which doctors have said can be misconstrued with child abuse.
Gregory Bryant-Bruce, who made news in custody fight as baby, dies By CHRISTIAN BOTTORFF Staff Writer
Gregory Bryant-Bruce, the child who made national headlines in 1994 when his physician mother kidnapped him from Tennessee foster care, has died at his mother's home in Belmont, Calif., from complications related to his rare liver disease. The 10-year-old's breathing became abnormal Sunday and his mother, Cheryl Bryant-Bruce, held him in her arms until he died peacefully at 9:33 a.m., said the boy's maternal grandmother, Thelma Bryant.
''Cheryl just held him close and called her other two children to come downstairs and say their goodbyes to him,'' Bryant said. The child's death was attributed to complications from Alagille's syndrome, the rare liver disorder he had since birth. ''He closed his eyes, took his last breath and he just went. If there's angels, he's definitely one,'' Bryant said. ''He fought a good, long fight.''
The morning of his death, for the first time, his tiny face appeared to capture a smile, she said. ''It was like, 'I'm OK, I'm at peace,' '' she said yesterday by telephone from her daughter's home. Even so, the boy's death came as no surprise. He was hospitalized in recent weeks after experiencing external bleeding that would have required extensive surgery to fix, even a ventilator. His mother opted not to put him through the procedures, his grandmother said. He returned home the day before Thanksgiving.
''He lived the last few months of his life to the fullest,'' his mother said in an Associated Press report. ''He took a trip to Disneyland and got to dance with (Disney characters) Lilo and Stitch, which is what he wanted. ''On Thanksgiving Day, the fire department (in San Mateo County) made him a junior firefighter and got him a Christmas tree.''
The child's story captured national attention almost a decade ago.
Bryant-Bruce and the child's father, Gregory Bryant-Bruce Sr., lost custody in December 1993 after doctors at Vanderbilt University Medical Center said that bleeding around the baby's eyes was evidence that he had been shaken or dropped repeatedly. The mother had taken the infant to Vanderbilt when he appeared lethargic. Doctors examined him and determined it was a case of possible child abuse. They referred the case to the Tennessee Department of Human Services, which placed him in a foster home.
In February 1995 Cheryl Bryant-Bruce, herself a physician, took her son from a state-sponsored foster-care facility in Nashville and rushed him to Emory University's Egleston Children's Hospital in Atlanta for an independent evaluation. Doctors there determined his complications were from the disorder.
Bryant-Bruce was arrested on a criminal charge of custodial interference, and the boy was temporarily brought back to a DHS-approved foster home here two weeks later under court order. But the criminal charge was dropped when a Davidson County grand jury refused to indict the mother. A Montgomery County judge ordered Gregory returned to his parents in June 1995.
The Bryant-Bruces filed a lawsuit against Vanderbilt, seeking $75 million. The couple said Vanderbilt doctors misdiagnosed their son's internal bleeding as child abuse and that DHS used the diagnosis to keep the child away from them for almost 18 months, despite medical proof that the bleeding was from the rare disorder.
A settlement was reached. Vanderbilt never admitted wrongdoing but agreed to put $100,000 into a medical care trust fund for the child, who was born eight weeks prematurely and with multiple medical problems at an Ohio military hospital.
In a brief statement released yesterday, Vanderbilt officials said, ''We are very sorry for the Bryant-Bruce family's loss.'' The child's father could not be reached for comment. Gregory is survived by his parents; his grandparents, Thelma and Curtis Bryant Sr.; a brother, Christopher, 14; and a sister, Dominique, 17. A public memorial service will be at 11 a.m. Saturday at St. John's Baptist Church, 1050 Bay Road, East Palo Alto, Calif. Private interment will be at the San Joaquin Valley National Cemetery, 32053 West McCabe Road, Gustine, Calif.
The family has requested that instead of flowers, donations be sent to the Gregory Center, founded, directed and operated by Cheryl Bryant-Bruce as a resource and service center for children with disabilities.
Tyrell Rowe 19-month-old
Social workers Criticised over baby's death
Social workers at an east London council have been criticised by a judge who heard that a baby died only six days after it had been taken off an "at risk" register.
Tyrell Rowe, who was 19-months old, died in hospital on 17 October from brain damage after being repeatedly punched in the face.
The Old Bailey heard that after his death a number of other broken bones were discovered which had been caused in the previous two months.
Hackney Council social services had been supervising the baby, but had not examined him during that period.
On Friday Judge Anthony Morris criticised the council for not making public an internal investigation into the death.
"Lack of protection"
"I find it regrettable because the purpose of such an investigation must be how such failures occurred and to prevent them happening again," he said.
"I am disappointed by the apparent lack of protection given to Tyrell by the social services department."
Sandra Rowe, 29, and John White, 37, Tyrell's parents, had originally been charged with murder.
But, the court was told, the couple from Stoke Newington, north London, could only be prosecuted for child cruelty, alleging that they did not get medical help for his earlier injuries.
White, who pleaded guilty to child cruelty, was given a three-year jail sentence.
Tyrell's mother, who has a low IQ and the reading age of a five-year-old, had been found at an earlier hearing to be unfit to plead.
"Decision to return child"
A jury later found she had committed the act and Judge Morris placed her under a supervision and treatment order with Lambeth social services, south London, for two years.
Tyrell had been under the supervision of Hackney social services since his birth, but was removed from he child protection register six days before his death.
After the case, Hackney Council said: "The death of any child is a tragedy. This is especially so in Tyrell's case where a wide range of professionals and the courts were involved in the decision to return the child to his parent's care.
"The Area Child Protection Committee is concluding its investigation. Recommendations will be implemented by the respective agencies.
"Appropriate action will be taken as required if individual failings are identified."
Brandon Williams ,5-year-old
Child Protective Services workers had been trying to find 5-year-old Brandon Williams for five months before he died, after Amphitheater Public Schools district officials raised questions about his health and welfare when he stopped showing up for school in October.
But neither that early warning, nor a Pima County Sheriff's Department visit to his home a week before his death, could save the boy.
His mother, Diane Marsh, and a roommate, Flower Tompson, have been charged with homicide. An indictment accuses them of administering a fatal overdose of over-the-counter drugs to calm him down.
In addition to scars on his wrists and ankles from having been bound, and severe burns on his feet from having been dipped in scalding water, police reports newly released on Tuesday include references to witchcraft practiced in the home he shared with his mother, Tompson and Tompson's boyfriend, although police don't link that to his death.
They also refer to investigators questioning Tompson's boyfriend about an anal injury the boy suffered, but the reports don't specify the nature of the injury or what they think might have caused it.
School disappearance
Child Protective Services records on the Marsh family date back to 1999, long before Brandon was born.
Marsh's two teenage boys had been removed from her home in 2005 and 2006.
The latter removal came at Marsh's request after one of the brothers threatened to harm Marsh and grabbed Brandon by the face.
The first CPS record on Brandon came shortly thereafter. In late September or early October, Amphi officials contacted CPS because Brandon, a special-needs student at Helen Keeling Elementary, stopped showing up at school.
Brandon missed eight straight days of class, and officials were concerned about his health and welfare, said Todd Jaeger, the district's attorney and associate superintendent.
Even before then, Brandon's school attendance had been choppy and marked by transfers. He attended preschool at Marion Donaldson Elementary and briefly attended Lulu Walker Elementary before Marsh transferred him to Keeling, Jaeger said.
Brandon never returned to Keeling, and Jaeger said Marsh never asked the district to transfer Brandon's records to another school.
"We didn't know" where he was, Jaeger said.
But school officials notified CPS.
A CPS investigator first attempted to contact Brandon in October, records show.
On Oct. 16, the CPS investigator requested a deputy to accompany her, but when they went to Marsh's home on West Wheatridge Drive, no one was there. The investigator tried again the next day.
While she was calling the Pima County Sheriff's Department's communication unit, however, the investigator spotted Marsh driving away. As she spoke with the Sheriff's Department, she lost track of Marsh, who had driven into the city of Tucson.
The failed attempts marked the start of a series of efforts to locate Marsh over the next few months, said Liz Barker, CPS spokeswoman.
"In the fall of 2006, over the course of several months, there were repeated attempts to locate Mrs. Marsh and Brandon," Barker said. "These included numerous attempts to locate them at their home. It included several contacts in his school to find out if his records had been transferred."
Barker said the investigator even visited Marsh's bank. But the attempts were unsuccessful.
A missing-persons report
It wasn't until March 15, a week before Brandon's death, that a deputy made contact.
Marsh's father had filed a missing-persons report on her.
Jeff Pankow, a family friend, told Deputy Lillian George that he not seen Marsh in two months. Pankow told the deputy when he last saw Marsh, "she was cowering and seemed in such a state that she could not answer for herself."
Instead, another woman, later identified as Tompson, answered questions and seemingly dominated Marsh's life.
Marsh's father said he had last heard from his daughter in October when she called him, desperate for money while also claiming "witchcraft was being performed in her house," the report states. Pankow also told deputies about conversations with Marsh about witchcraft, seances and ceremonies with razors spread on the floor.
George first went to Marsh's house, which had recently caught fire. Workers remodeling the home directed her to a North Side apartment provided by Marsh's insurance company.
There, George briefly spoke to a neighbor who said it seemed Brandon never appeared to be going to school and that the overall situation "was just strange."
It took multiple knocks on the door, but eventually Flower Tompson answered
Inside the apartment, the deputy saw Brandon.
"His feet and legs were heavily bandaged," she wrote in her report.
When the deputy asked what had happened, Marsh said Brandon had "fallen into the gravel and got cut up by cacti," the report states.
The interview was awkward, George wrote. There were numerous points when Tompson attempted to answer questions directed toward Marsh.
Eventually George asked to speak with Marsh alone, then asked Marsh if she was being held against her will. Marsh said she wasn't.
George said she would file her report to Child Protective Services, ending the interview.
"Ms. Marsh appeared to be well rested, well fed and not in any type of duress," George wrote.
The report wasn't transcribed until March 22, the day after Brandon died, and Deputy Dawn Barkman, spokeswoman for the Pima County Sheriff's Department, said it was never sent to CPS.
She said George followed department procedure. She investigated the missing-persons complaint and was in the process of forwarding her report to CPS. There is no indication in the report that she interviewed Brandon.
"She didn't see any signs of exigent circumstances," Barkman said. She said the deputy was checking on a missing person, who was located and appeared well. Although the boy's feet were bandaged, there was no cause to doubt the mother's explanation.
Barkman said she didn't know if George had access to Brandon's CPS case history.
When police next returned to Marsh's apartment on March 22, it was in response to a 911 call because Brandon, who had been heavily sedated hours earlier, was no longer breathing.
Marsh and Tompson had gone to the hospital with the boy, but Tompson's boyfriend, Mark Moss, 47, was still at the apartment.
Included in their questions, they asked Moss about injuries to Brandon's anus. Moss, who told the detectives he had a previous sex-crime conviction in California, said he knew nothing about the injury and would not do something like that.
The story of Anthony Bars the 4-year-old boy who was starved and beaten to death in Indiana by foster parents with a criminal record of child abuse?continues.
Due to media and public outrage, the caseworker who recommended removing Anthony from an earlier, loving foster parent is facing charges. Denise Moore is accused of official misconduct and of falsifying reports in an adoption proceeding: misdemeanor offenses.
Sadly, Anthony is just one in a long list of children neglected or abused by Child Protective Services in state after state. In his case, the press is still pounding on why child welfare officials never disciplined Moore for her actions and cited state confidentiality laws at almost every question asked.
Emerging scandals and conflicts in Indiana and elsewhere should not be allowed to distract from more fundamental questions: When should a third party have the terrible right to separate a child from its parents? By what right do civil servants have to enter your home and threaten to remove your children if you do not answer accusations of abuse?often accusations made anonymously?to their satisfaction?
The increased power of child welfare agencies to do so comes from legislation dating back to the Mondale Act of 1974. That act established huge financial incentives for state agencies to uncover abuse, without providing checks or balances to protect those wrongfully accused. It also virtually immunized child welfare workers and false accusers from liability.
But a power is not a right. If it were, then everything you have the power to do would also be proper for you to do.
What, then, are rights?
A right is an enforceable claim that an individual has against all other people; it carries a corresponding duty to respect those rights in others. For example, your right to freedom of religion comes with the corresponding duty to respect the right of others to reach their own conclusions. Rights and responsibilities are two sides of the same social coin.
Otherwise stated: Every peaceful human being has a moral jurisdiction over his or her own body and property that no one else can justly violate.
Few acts symbolize this moral jurisdiction more clearly than the right to close a front door behind you and lock out the world. This act dramatizes the difference between the private and the public spheres.
"A man's home is his castle" is a phrase coined by civil rights attorney Clarence Darrow. It means people are rulers within their own homes, which others have no right to enter without permission.
The concept is embedded within the Bill of Rights, specifically the Fourth Amendment:
"The right of the people to be secure in their persons, houses, papers, and effects, against unreasonable searches and seizures, shall not be violated, and no warrants shall issue, but upon probable cause, supported by oath or affirmation ..."
This concept is a line of defense for the individual and family against unwarranted intrusion by government.
What constitutes warranted intrusion? A credible and specific reason to believe the rights of people within that house are being violated. It becomes proper for third parties to break down a door for the same reason it is proper for them to stop a mugging on the street: to protect the victim. If a parent uses violence against a child, he or she has abandoned the responsibility to respect the rights of others. He or she can no longer demand an automatic and similar respect from others.
In short, the Fourth Amendment is not a blank check to engage in violence under the guise of privacy. But it is a clear and compelling demand that any individual or agency who breaks down a door must do so on credible evidence, not anonymous tips, and that everyone accused must receive due process. Moreover, any third party who is later found to have acted from malice or other gross misconduct should be legally liable for those actions.
The fact that parents accused of child abuse are not currently accorded due process?indeed, they are "guilty until proven innocent"?reflects a 180 degree change in society's attitude toward the home and the family. The family used to be viewed as a private realm into which the law entered with extreme caution.
Since the '70s, however, the family per se has been under attack as a breeding ground of domestic violence, child abuse, and other brutality. This change in attitude is largely rooted in a brand of feminism that arose in the '70s: gender feminism, which has exerted great influence over laws concerning women and children. Gender feminism views men and women as separate and antagonistic classes, with the family being another expressed of gender conflict.
Accordingly, a closed door in-and-of-itself is reason to suspect the presence of violence. Warrants, probable cause, and oaths are no longer deemed necessary.
They should be.
And, without them, front doors in North America should slam shut and remain closed.
Denise C. Moore became the first child welfare caseworker in Indiana to be convicted and sentenced for on-the-job failures, as she was sentenced Wednesday to 18 months probation.
Superior Court Judge Robert Altice also ordered Moore to perform 260 hours of community service for her conviction of obstruction of justice.
Moore gave false information to an adoption judge who placed infant twins Anthony and Latoya with the adoptive parents who later beat and starved them.
Altice comments were extremely scathing, describing Indiana's child welfare system as "bureaucracy at its worst. Caseloads were way too high (and) the filing system was something out of the Middle Ages," he said.
Adoptive parents Latricia and L.B. Bars were later convicted in the 2002 death of 4-year-old Anthony Bars and in causing permanent injuries to Latoya.
last modified: 2/24/2005 7:03:22 AM
Richard L Aragon, 2-year-old
'Someone Beat the Hell Out of This Kid'
VICTIM: Ricky Aragon Jr., age 2, taken into state custody after mother found sniffing paint. INJURY: Beaten to death in grandmother's foster care home. OUTCOME: Grandmother, Josefita Romero, is sentenced to 15 years in prison; state pays child's estate $599,469.
Rosalie Montoya listened as the baby next door screamed, just like he'd been screaming every day for the past two weeks. Montoya, who was doing yard work, noticed her neighbor's mobile home vibrate, "as if something very large, like a piece of furniture, had been hurled against the wall." Inside, 52-year-old Josefita Romero demanded, "shut up." There was the sound of water splashing. "Oh my God," the neighbor heard Romero cry out. "Mi hijito, breathe." Then only silence. * * * Neighbors heard the warning sounds. Social workers weren't around to see the warning signs. Two-year-old Ricky Aragon Jr. lost his life at the hands of his maternal grandmother -- a state-authorized relative foster parent.
When he died of head injuries April 12, 1993, human teeth marks were visible on his face, left knee and right elbow. "Someone beat the hell out of this kid," a physician at the state Office of the Medical Investigator told investigators at the time. Romero, now 52, pleaded guilty in late 1993 to child abuse causing death and was sentenced to 15 years in prison. Last year, the state paid $599,496 to settle a lawsuit alleging that mistakes and omissions by state social workers led to Ricky's death. The settlement came after lawyers for the boy's estate discovered Romero had once been investigated for hitting one of her own daughters, said Albuquerque lawyer Mary Han, one of the attorneys for the child's estate. Timothy Flynn-O'Brien, an Albuquerque lawyer who represented the social workers, said confidentiality laws bar him from commenting. Social workers maintained Romero's home appeared safe. The case -- the first reported death of a child in New Mexico foster care in recent years -- underscores all that can go wrong in the foster care system. From early 1989 to 1991, state child protective services had received a half-dozen complaints that Ricky's mother was sniffing paint and jeopardizing the safety of her children. In July 1989, Ricky's older sister went to foster care after police arrested the mother for child abuse and drug abuse. Ricky was eight months old when the state took him into custody in 1991. Social workers believed his mother was still sniffing paint, court records show. Ricky's older sister was placed with his great-grandmother. So the state placed Ricky with his maternal grandmother, Romero -- a divorcee with a history of alcoholism. Court records show the social worker who placed the child in Romero's care never formally looked into the woman's background, what is called a "home study." The social worker said a supervisor told her simply to "eyeball" the residence. Lawyers for the child's estate said that violated agency policy. Court records show Romero never attended foster-home training and wasn't even licensed to provide foster care. The agency turned over a number of the social workers' responsibilities to Romero, such as regulating and monitoring visits from Ricky's mother. The state paid her from $280 to $300 a month. Ricky was considered a drug-exposed baby and needed physical therapy, occupational therapy and speech/language therapy. But court records show Romero didn't take him. The initial social worker on the case said she may have visited the home once during the child's first four months with Romero. The case was reassigned to social worker Catherine Culver White on Oct. 26, 1992, who had been on the job a month. In court documents, White said she assumed Romero was licensed. Social workers, by internal policy, are supposed to visit foster homes at least monthly. White visited once the six months before Ricky died. White said in court records that her supervisor never told her about the monthly visits. In court documents, her lawyer said White "had limited time (resources) so she prioritized her work and focused on the cases she felt presented the greatest need." "No one disagrees that it would be nice if there were sufficient resources to do everything. (The social worker) did not have sufficient time to visit every child in foster care on a monthly basis and perform all her duties," O'Brien said in a court document. She happened to visit the home about two weeks before the child was killed. It was the same day police responded to a report of suspected child abuse at the mobile home -- but White said she hadn't been notified of the call. Neighbors called police after hearing a baby screaming on March 26, 1993. "It sounded like the child was put in a closet, because I heard a door slam. I heard the child crying and kicking at a door," stated Rosalie Montoya in a statement introduced in the civil lawsuit by the plaintiffs. Albuquerque police said they found no evidence of child abuse. Montoya stopped one of the officers as he left Romero's trailer. "I told him, 'What does it take, for him (Ricky) to physically end up in the hospital before something is done?' '' Montoya said in a court deposition. A CYFD investigation later concluded social workers should make more frequent visits of relative foster homes and conduct "home studies" when placing such children. The $599,496 settlement is in a trust. Ricky's mother is the beneficiary, but is limited in the amount of money she can receive at any one time and must maintain a lawful lifestyle. A community organization involved with children will receive a portion of any money remaining at her death.
Latiana Hamilton 17-month-old
Child's Death in Overcrowded Foster Home Highlights Statewide Problem' Advocates Call for Strike For
Following the death of a 17-month-old child in an overcrowded foster home in Florida and the arrest of her foster mother for first-degree murder, national and local child advocacy groups are calling for an independent federal investigative Strike Force. The Strike Force would immediately investigate all foster homes with more than five children and monitor the safety of children placed in overcrowded foster homes by Florida's Department of Children and Families (DCF). The coalition of child advocates says the conditions surrounding the toddler's death in foster care are not isolated but symptomatic of a failure by DCF to protect and care for foster children throughout the state. A federal audit of the Florida foster care system by the Department of Human Service begins this month. Foster child Latiana Hamilton was found beaten and drowned in a bathtub on July 18. Her foster mother, Lena Cumberbatch, was arrested on July 27 for first-degree murder. Eight children (four foster children and four biological children of Cumberbatch's), ranging in age from 2 months to 10 years, were living in the home. The biological children told police about a history of abuse by Cumberbatch since the foster children arrived. One child witnessed the drowning of Latiana.
"The death of this toddler must be a wake-up call to the citizens of Florida about the dangerous conditions facing all children who enter foster care in our state," said Deborah Schroth of Florida Legal Services, a statewide non-profit organization that is part of a federal class action lawsuit, Bonnie L v. Jeb Bush, charging Florida's foster care system with violating the federal constitutional and statutory rights of children in their care. "These children, in need of the protection of the State, are suffering emotional, physical and even sexual abuse while in the very homes intended to protect them. Other tragedies like Latiana's death are waiting to happen throughout the state."
There are more children in Florida's foster care than ever before (an estimated 18,000 in foster homes, group homes and other facilities). A February 2001 state report on overcrowding found that:
*Out of 4,242 foster homes, 16% of foster homes are over their licensed capacity even though 52% of foster homes are under their licensed capacity. *There are currently 62 foster homes with more than 10 children.
A recent DCF report states that " there may be a substantial number of homes that are over the five-child limit during any given point in time" and that "foster parents who must deal with too many children...are prime targets for stress which may result in maltreatment."
"This death is on the state's hands," stated Karen Gievers, an attorney in Tallahassee who initiated the Bonnie L. lawsuit. "State officials, being aware of the increased risk of maltreatment that comes with homes having more than 5 children, are only examining homes with over 10 children. That is not good enough. Foster children are abused daily in overcrowded homes and now a little girl has been killed. We are calling for an independent federal Strike Force to begin an immediate investigation into all foster homes with more than five children. It must also examine all foster homes that are underutilized to determine if they are capable of caring for children safely."
"The rate of maltreatment of children in Florida foster care is 2,000 times the maximum permissible rate set by the federal government," stated Rose Firestein, an attorney at Children's Rights, a national non-profit child advocacy group that is co-counsel on the Bonnie L. lawsuit. "In the fiscal year 1999-2000, a shockingly high 81 out of every thousand children in Florida's foster care system were neglected or abused by their foster parents or by the staff at a foster care facility. In contrast, 18.9 out of every thousand children in Florida's general population were the subjects of a confirmed report of neglect or abuse at the hands of their biological parents or custodians. Unlike the biological parents who maltreated their children, the foster caregivers were selected, trained, approved and paid by DCF (or its agents) to provide a safe place for children to live."
Background on Bonnie L. v. Jeb Bush The Bonnie L. v. Jeb Bush federal lawsuit was filed in 2000 on behalf of 23 named plaintiffs- children who have suffered serious physical and psychological harm while in the care of DCF and on behalf of the approximately 15,000 foster care children who are currently dependent on DCF for their care and protection. The defendants in the suit include Governor Jeb Bush and Kathleen Kearney, secretary of the Florida Department of Children and Families.
Key facts and claims in the lawsuit regarding overcrowding of foster homes state that:
*DCF's continued overcrowding and inadequately supervised foster homes and other out-of-home care facilities expose children in DCF's custody to the imminent risk of sexual and other abuse, neglect and other dangers while they remain in DCF's care. *DCF has put children in foster care placements that were dangerous, abusive, neglectful, overcrowded or wholly inappropriate and incapable of meeting the children's individual needs.
A federal magistrate in Florida, the Hon. Robert Dubé, recently upheld the legal claims in the lawsuit even thought the state had moved to have all of the legal claims dismissed. He recommended to the district court judge, the Hon. Federico Moreno, that the case proceed as a class action on behalf of all the children in the state. His recommendations are now under consideration by the federal judge and a hearing is scheduled for August 28, 2001.
Isaiah Oliva 14-month-old
Confidentiality shields errors
El Paso and other counties responsible for child abuse investigations keep all records of their involvement in fatal cases confidential after a child's death.
But the state may issue a fatality report that examines a suspected death from child abuse with an eye toward correcting mistakes by county-run agencies. Such reports detail errors in El Paso ? and other counties ? struggling to cope with growing child abuse case loads.In one fatal case, El Paso human services waited 10 days to check a nurse's report of bruises on a 1-year-old boy.
The 1-year-old boy was Isaiah Oliva.
He drowned in a bathtub, eight days after a hospital sent him home with a fractured skull. That was preceded by a long series of other injuries, some of them reported to the county by a doctor, a therapist and others: His teeth were falling out; he was limping from hip pain; his face, buttocks, ear, arm and thigh were bruised; he had broken blood vessels in his eyes; and he had a broken ankle.
Michelle Moore 9-year-old & Charlie Moore 6-year-old
January 19, 2004 Police detective Victor LaBrecque found 9-year-old Michelle Moore slumped over her clarinet, beside the music she was practicing when she died.
The body of her little brother Charlie, 6, lay nearby in the living room. Their mother was sprawled facedown in a pool of blood on the kitchen floor. All three had been shot twice by the children's stepfather, Christopher Colvin, who then reclined beside Michelle and fired a .45-caliber bullet into his right temple as police arrived.
"You don't forget those faces," said LaBrecque, who led the investigation of the city of Fountain's deadliest shooting. "It's something that's always burned into your brain. The innocents ? they never had a chance."
The official story always has been that the child protection system could not have prevented this tragedy. Five days after the December 1996 killings, El Paso County human services director Barbara Drake was quoted as saying her department had no active file on the Colvin children until it responded to a child abuse complaint one week before they were killed.
A state fatality review quietly delivered to El Paso officials nine months later tells a much different story of the county's involvement.
There had been a series of reports to El Paso human services about Colvin, including one from a therapist saying that Charlie said his stepfather made him lick up his own urine and shoved a dirty diaper in his face. There had been about 16 police visits to the Colvins' mobile home for domestic violence ? and no documented referrals from police to El Paso human services.
Drake declined to discuss the case with The Denver Post but said she never intended to mislead anyone about her department's prior involvement with the Colvins.
"I certainly would have said what I would have believed to be the truth at the time," she said.
Chandler Ashton Grafner 7-year- old
The 7-year-old boy weighed less than 30 pounds
DENVER -- Three felony charges have been filed against the couple allegedly involved in the death of 7-year- old Chandler Grafner.
The Denver District Attorney's Office said 26-year-old Jon Phillips and 21-year-old Sarah Berry intentionally and deliberately malnourished and mistreated the boy, who is not biologically related to them.
The couple are both charged with first-degree murder causing the death of a child under 12, child abuse resulting in death, and first-degree murder after deliberation.
The 7-year-old boy weighed less than 30 pounds and was found by police suffering from cardiac arrest. He was reportedly kept in the couple's closet.
Sources at the boy's former elementary school confirm to 7NEWS that there were concerns about his well-being for some time and that those concerns were well documented. A teacher at Grafner's school repeatedly reported signs of neglect, the Denver Post reported. Investigators visited the couple's apartment but found nothing unusual.
Grafner's maternal grandmother talked exclusively to 7NEWS, saying that Chandler and his half-brother, Dominick Phillips, were taken away from her home.
Both Dominick and Chandler share the same mother but they were removed from her care because of her drug problem, their maternal grandmother, Sandra Younger said.
Younger said that she fought for custody of the boys but lost. Dominick's biological father, Jon Phillips, was given legal custody of both boys.
"I didn't want him (Phillips) to have them. I just didn't have a good feeling about it. And I told the social worker, but she said there's nothing she could do about a 'bad feeling,'" said Younger.
"(Social Services) also said that because the boys were sleeping on a large couch in my living room, and didn't have twin beds in a room of their own, that I was not a good candidate," said Younger.
Younger said the boys were in good hands with her. She is angry and distraught, saying that her beautiful 7-year-old grandson shouldn't have died.
"They were loved, and they were safe. They were well taken care of here. They were well-fed. You can ask any of the neighbors. They were happy with virtually no needs and no wants," said Younger.
Dominick, who is 5, is now in foster care.
Phillips and Berry are being held without bond at the Denver County Jail. They are scheduled to appear in Denver County Court on Monday to be formally advised of the charges. If they are convicted, they face life in prison without the possibility of parole.
They were taken into custody on Sunday, when police were called to the their apartment on South Tamarac Drive and Hampden Avenue.
At least eight times in his young life, people charged with protecting Darian could have taken steps to help him. He was left alone with his killer.
By JENIFER B. McKIM
The Orange County Register
Darian Robinson used to coo and laugh with adults. Then he grew quiet.
The little boy stopped eating and gaining weight. His young mother Sherri Robinson - isolated and recently out of jail - skipped parenting classes and therapy. When Darian crawled to his mother, she pushed him away.
Social worker Colleen Vargas heard these concerns and arrived at the family's Fullerton doorstep to check on the toddler.
Robinson refused her help. "You guys have done enough," the unemployed woman said and shut the door.
Vargas, the eighth social worker to work on the little's boy's case, never met Darian that day. Or ever. She walked away.
A month later, paramedics found Darian beaten to death - covered with more than 100 wounds from his feet to the top of his head. He was 10 months old.
Twenty-three children have died since January 2000 who had been under Juvenile Court protection in Orange County.
Darian's once-confidential file obtained by The Orange County Register shows a court stymied by delays and a string of social workers who ignored warning signs, lost a key document and closed the case after being rebuffed by an uncooperative mother.
Last year, Robinson was sentenced to 25 years to life for his murder.
Nearly five years after the boy's death, a deputy district attorney, a foster father and family members still question why public agencies and employees charged with protecting Darian were not held accountable.
In at least eight points in the boy's life, those charged with protecting Darian could have taken steps to help him and didn't, the Register found.
Yet nobody was disciplined or fired. No government systems overhauled.
"I think too many people dropped the ball, and they are just skating,'' said Sonia E. Balleste, the deputy district attorney who prosecuted Robinson. "What happened to Darian shouldn't have happened. This little boy shouldn't have to die for nothing."
Court and social services officials say they made no mistakes with Darian. He was placed with a foster father when his mother went to jail and returned to her upon her release. Concerns raised about Robinson were not enough to merit more government involvement, they say.
The vast majority of the nearly 4,000 Orange County children under court protection get safe permanent homes, said Presiding Juvenile Court Judge Robert Hutson. Despite best efforts, some children from at-risk families die.
"You can't be there every minute with every person," Hutson said. "I am not seeing fault in the system that is causing deaths in Orange County."
But Darian's story reveals weaknesses in a struggling state bureaucracy that cares for more than 76,000 abused and neglected children.
Most foster care children who die do so with little public notice. The state doesn't accurately count their deaths. Some youth advocates say stories like Darian's must be open to public scrutiny to assure such deaths are avoided in the future.
"Unfortunately we see high case loads, excessive handoffs and kids lost in the shuffling of paper between desks," said Robert Fellmeth, executive director of the San Diego-based Children's Advocacy Institute. "These are our children. We as taxpayers and voters are their parents. If one of them dies, we want to know about it."
The Register litigated in juvenile court for more than a year to get details of the deaths of Orange County children who'd been under protection of the court. The county fought to keep the records sealed.
In many cases, social workers and the court appear to have done what they could for medically fragile youths. Other children didn't have to die.
Miranda Davila, age 2, was returned to her parents and died months later after being found unconscious and bruised in a filthy motel room. Maryah Ponce was removed from a troubled family to die forgotten in her foster mother's overheated SUV. Ana Smallen, age 2, was taken from her parents after they were jailed and social workers found signs of neglect. She was returned two months later and drowned in a family hot tub in July.
Only Darian's file of court and social services records has been released. The Register continues to fight for more files.
This is Darian's story.
DARIAN'S STRUGGLE TO SURVIVE
Sherri Robinson didn't want a baby.
The young woman suffered from her own abandonment and abuse, court documents and interviews show. Her mother left when she was a toddler and her father traveled often for work.
When she was a girl growing up in Huntington Beach, social workers took her stepsister into protective custody, confirming she'd been sexually abused.
When she was a young woman, Robinson's boyfriend slammed her against a wall and cracked her pelvis. She got pregnant in a short-lived affair with another man. She was arrested for stealing a car.
She asked permission for an abortion twice in jail but was denied, she told social workers.
After her release, eight-months pregnant and complaining of back pain, Robinson arrived at the home of her former stepmother Victoria Bias in January 2001. Bias, who hadn't seen her for years, took the young woman in.
Darian was born Feb. 17. Even his first breaths were a struggle.
Robinson fought his arrival by ignoring a doctor's orders to push, said Bias who was present during the birth. When Darian's head appeared, Robinson sat up in such a way that it appeared she was trying to break his neck.
"She was killing him," Bias said. "The nurse was in tears begging her to cooperate.''
Bias visited the hospital to find the new mother in the shower and Darian lying naked and alone at risk of catching cold or falling off the bed. This happened twice.
At the hospital, Bias learned Robinson had a warrant for her arrest for violating probation on an auto theft conviction.
In hopes of protecting Darian, Bias and her adult children turned her in. Robinson was arrested and Darian taken into protective custody.
Bias, now 51, wanted to keep Darian but was told she didn't have standing as a former stepmother.
Months later, she couldn't understand why social workers returned Darian to his mother after she told them about the birth and Robinson's drug use.
An attorney for Darian said Bias' opinions were dismissed because she was estranged from Robinson and the allegations couldn't be proven.
"I said she was going to kill this baby. They shouldn't have given her back the baby," Bias said. "Darian died because of them and they wouldn't listen. ... I think the (senior social worker) should have lost her job.''
THE SYSTEM
After Bias' call to authorities, the juvenile system lurched into action.
The county aims to keep fragile families together while limiting children's risks.
Caseloads are high. Judges and commissioners juggle 1,000 children on their docket. Children's attorneys have 1,000 clients each. Social workers who reunite children with their parents are responsible for as many as 40 children, higher than a statewide standard of 27.
Nobody can say whether a social worker with more time could have saved Darian. Social workers were not permitted to discuss the case. However, Children and Family Services Director Michael Riley is the first to say his overworked staff struggles to do their job.
Still, he defends his staff's handling of Darian. "Nothing was done improperly," he said.
Social workers placed Darian with Michael Jones, a San Diego foster father who hoped to adopt. Jones, a social worker in San Diego County, understood Darian could return to his mother but was told this was unlikely because Robinson was in jail.
Jones fell in love with the good-natured infant with wide eyes and fuzzy hair. He started a nightly routine: bath, book, bottle and bed. Jones read the classic "Good Night Moon" and sang "Itsy Bitsy Spider." They listened to Mozart. Each night Jones prayed over the boy's bed.
The foster father wrote to Robinson and took her calls, telling her Darian slept deeply and liked to be wrapped tightly in a blanket. "He has big beautiful brown-black eyes," he wrote her, "and looks right at you when you talk."
In Orange County, social workers contemplated Darian's fate.
Karen Cabico, the senior social worker in charge of his case, first recommended that the court commissioner make Darian a dependent of the court because his mother was in jail. Robinson's history and isolation also worried Cabico.
Juvenile Court Commissioner Gary Vincent, the final arbiter in Darian's destiny, delayed a decision for nearly six months, a time span considered unusually long but not illegal. He continued or delayed hearings nine times - something the senior social worker later said hurt her ability to protect Darian.
Courts aim to quickly decide a child's future. But Hutson, the presiding judge, said some delays are necessary and requested by attorneys who need more time. In Darian's case, Hutson said the commissioner postponed decisions partly because Robinson was released from jail earlier than expected.
Vincent defended his actions, saying he is cautious before ruling.
"I am in no hurry," he said. "Justice delayed is often justice fully achieved."
Efforts shifted toward reuniting the mother and son.
When Jones heard Robinson was leaving jail, he knew he could lose Darian. He told Cabico about his concerns regarding Robinson's history of substance abuse and lack of family but says he felt she didn't listen.
Two months before Darian was released to his mother, Jones wrote to Cabico's supervisor Linda Galvan complaining the social worker ignored his phone calls, did not visit his home and treated him with disdain because he was unmarried.
"There were red flags all over that this so-called experienced social worker just plain missed,'' Jones said. "She didn't spend a lot of time with any of us. She didn't hear it."
COURT ORDERS REUNIFICATION
Robinson walked out of jail in June 2001 and began supervised visits with her infant son. She was nervous around Darian, especially when he cried. Social workers recommended parenting classes.
In a report to the commissioner a month later, Cabico said Robinson was hard to contact and missed appointments. Darian shouldn't be returned to his mother, she wrote, because "there is a substantial risk that the child will suffer physical harm or illness."
Darian should be made a court dependent and Robinson given drug tests and psychological tests, she said.
Vincent postponed ruling on her requests, instead ordering Robinson to confirm her attendance for supervised visits with Darian.
He told the Register there wasn't enough proof for the state to take jurisdiction despite Cabico's recommendation.
"(Social workers) are very inaccurate in their recommendations and are often ignorant as far as the law goes."
He scheduled a hearing for a month later.
At that point, Cabico changed her mind. She felt more comfortable with Robinson. What she once thought was mental illness or drug use Cabico now believed was the mother's confusion with the system. She recommended returning Darian to his mother in a six-week supervised program.
Vincent agreed. Court documents show he took official jurisdiction of Darian but ordered no tests for Robinson.
A year later, after Darian's death, medical staff at a state hospital diagnosed Robinson as suffering from antisocial personality and cocaine-induced psychotic disorders, according to court records.
Such testing could have prompted the Juvenile Court to keep a closer watch.
"Maybe they would have come to the conclusion he shouldn't be with her,'' Balleste said. "Would it have a made a difference in Darian's life? Who knows, because they never did it."
SIX WEEKS OF SUPERVISION
Jones, numb with sadness, drove up the I-5 in August with 6-month-old Darian in the back seat.
He arrived at Robinson's apartment and tried to give her Darian. She resisted at first but then took him. Jones returned to his car to collect the baby's belongings. He came back to find Darian propped on a couch and Robinson sitting across the room - hardly the reaction he expected from a woman reuniting with the son she'd lost at birth.
"I picked him up and gave him back to her," Jones said. "I stayed for about an hour. I showed her how to mix the formula. I gave him a hug and left. I was numb. I said, 'You call me any time. I will baby sit. Whatever you need.' "
In the six weeks that the court supervised Darian and his mother, a public health nurse visited once and a community aide visited about once a week.
Karen Hager, a veteran social worker who works with children needing intensive supervision, testified she visited 14 times in six weeks. She told Cabico that Robinson was cooperating and "settling down." Darian was happy and cuddly, she said.
She also testified later that she worried Robinson was slow to understand things and resisted court orders. The plan to get back her son required her to complete parenting classes, but she hadn't done so.
Yet with her support, Cabico recommended Robinson be freed from court-ordered services after six weeks. She told the commissioner Darian was "thriving" in his mother's care. Although she believed Robinson would benefit from more services, Cabico didn't think the court should stay involved.
Aileen Ramirez, part of the county team helping Robinson adjust to motherhood, was surprised Darian's court case had been dismissed.
The once playful boy was quiet. Ramirez and a public health nurse repeatedly discussed their concerns with a social worker at the family resource center where they worked.
Cabico later testified she didn't hear any of that.
"I thought she needed more intervention," said Ramirez, still haunted by Darian's death. "I would let them know he was declining, he was not as active as before. .It is sad. It could have been prevented."
THE DOOR CLOSES
Freed from court supervision, Robinson became hard to find.
Three times, Cabico tried and failed to visit with the family. Once, Robinson told her she wasn't available. The second time the mother skipped a scheduled office visit, and a third time the family was out when Cabico dropped by.
Those who got a glimpse inside the apartment noted problems.
Ramirez saw a bruise on Darian's face during a visit in October. It looked like a pinch. When she asked Robinson about it, the mother said, "Babies get bruised."
Ramirez contacted public health nurse Kathy Brown, who visited to find Darian wasn't the cheerful boy she once knew. Robinson told her Darian was refusing to eat. The nurse offered a jar of food, which he ate eagerly.
Brown tried to visit Robinson again but had no luck. She called social services. After several attempts, she was referred to Vargas, the eighth social worker involved in Darian's case.
Vargas picked up Darian's file in mid-November, almost two months after the case was dismissed from court.
Vargas saw in the paperwork that Robinson agreed to voluntary services but noted a key document was missing - a signed paper proving the mother accepted government involvement in her life.
The social worker arrived at the apartment the next day. Robinson greeted her and stepped outside, pulling the door partially closed. Vargas talked about services, referring to the agreement Robinson had signed. Robinson demanded to see the missing paperwork. When none was produced, she sent Vargas away.
Vargas felt she didn't have enough evidence to persist. She never called police or asked the commissioner to reauthorize court supervision, options Cabico later said she would have taken.
Instead, Vargas left a message with the nurse to report any new concerns of abuse or neglect to the county's hotline. She closed Darian's case without seeing him. She'd had his file for two days.
CRIES FOR HELP
As fall turned to winter, neighbors heard a baby wailing from the apartment.
"A lot of us heard the crying,'' neighbor Melida Wadwa told a jury, admitting she never contacted authorities about her concerns. "It was loud, constant.''
Neighbor Robert Rice heard a child being slapped some 25 times in late November and again in December. The second time he screamed at Robinson to knock it off, he testified in court. She came to the window.
"She said it's none of my business, and I told her I'd call social services on her,'' he told a jury. "She said she doesn't care. They won't do anything."
A few days later Rice stopped a district attorney's investigator who was visiting Robinson to check on welfare fraud to tell him his concerns
The investigator, required by law to report allegations of abuse, listened but did not follow up.
The state attorney general investigated this lack of action and found no criminal wrongdoing. The state urged the District Attorney's Office to improve training on child-abuse reporting.
On the morning of Dec. 15, 2001, Robinson dialed 911.
Paramedic Burt Allen responded and found Darian lying at his mother's feet.
The veteran firefighter peeled off the toddler's clothes and thought he was looking at a skin disease. Then he gasped.
Darian was covered with scars. The baby had 13 rib fractures and his legs appeared to have been pulled apart. Something had been stuck in his rectum. His body was cool.
Police arrived and found a handmade whip in a Disney-print diaper bag.
Allen and his crew, with no child to save, packed their equipment and walked silently to their truck. Then they did something they'd never done after a call.
They cried.
"I was angry at everybody,'' said Allen, unable to forget the scars that crisscrossed the boy's body. "I've never ever before or since seen such brutality."
THE TRIAL
Robinson's criminal trial was delayed for three years while attorneys debated her mental competence to stand trial.
In fall 2004, Balleste was handed the case.
The deputy district attorney charged Robinson with torturing and killing Darian. During the trial, she also took the juvenile court and social workers to task. She still keeps a photo of Darian in her office.
"There's too much documentation ... to show this little boy should never have gone back to her, and once he went back to her that they should have been concerned,'' Balleste said. "I think this is one of the biggest injustices I've seen in my career. Nobody speaks for babies that cannot speak."
The murder trial provided a glimpse into the secretive world, where state law forbids social workers and foster parents to talk about their wards.
Cabico, in tears on the stand, said Commissioner Vincent mishandled the case by waiting so long to take jurisdiction of Darian. She was so confused by court delays, she said, that she didn't realize Darian had been officially put under court protection before he was sent to his mother.
She told the criminal court that every time she told the commissioner her concerns, like the fact Robinson had nowhere to live when she left jail, Vincent pushed her to resolve the issues.
Cabico did not blame herself although she was in charge of his case for the longest period of time. She believed Robinson would be cooperative despite signs to the contrary. She said her colleague Vargas erred by walking away.
"I feel like we as an agency failed because the social worker could have called the police or done something when she no longer was letting anyone in the door or being cooperative,'' Cabico told the judge. "He was like a train on a track just going from day one and just kept going with things occurring, at different points could have changed the outcome.''
Cathy Sarinana assured family members that she and her husband were frantically looking for their runaway nephew in the rural Washington area where they lived.
She told the boy's family on Christmas Day that he would be home to open his presents.
But 13-year-old Conrad Morales never came home, and police and family members say Sarinana and her husband, Raul, knew he wouldn't.
Rather than searching for the runaway, police allege Sarinana and her husband had fled the state months earlier after the death of Conrad and brought the boy's remains to Corona.
On Monday, investigators discovered a grisly new twist.
Raul Sarinana called police to the quiet Corona Belle Avenue neighborhood Monday after saying he had hurt and possibly killed his 11-year-old nephew, Conrad's little brother Ricky. The couple had taken custody of both boys over the last two years. When police arrived, they found Ricky's body, and several hours later discovered Conrad's body encased in concrete in the carport of the Corona home.
The crime scene left the family to grapple with the deaths of two boys and the subsequent arrest of their aunt and uncle, a man known to the kids in the family as the easy-going, "fun" uncle.
"This just isn't happening," sobbed Martin Cevallos, the boy's 22-year-old cousin from Downey. "We sent them to my uncle because we thought they'd be better off. He was always the uncle that would joke around with us kids. If he couldn't handle them, he could have just sent them home.
"They said Conrad's presents were under the tree when all along they knew he was dead," Cevallos said. "Everything has been one big lie."
This week, the district attorney's office filed charges against the Sarinanas in the killing of Ricky. Raul Sarinana is charged with murder and torture, while his wife, Cathy, is charged with murder and child endangerment. Their arraignment is scheduled for Jan. 5.
Corona detectives are investigating the death of Conrad in and around Randle, Wash., where the Sarinanas lived and reported Conrad missing days before moving to Corona in October. According to police and family, the case involves an elaborate cover-up spanning three cities and two states and covered more than 1,000 miles.
Coroner's officials conducted one autopsy Thursday but did not release results. Corona investigators returned to the home Thursday night and the Sarinanas' former Washington home, where police believe the first killing took place.
Police officials released few details about either death Thursday. However, they did confirm that Cathy Sarinana was in the Big Bear area when her husband reported Ricky's death on Monday.
Before living with the Sarinanas, Ricky and Conrad lived with an aunt, Berta Cevallos, 43, in Los Angeles County.
Their mother, Rosa Morales, 42, had been incarcerated on drug-related charges, Berta Cevallos said.
Living in Washington
Their mother, and the rest of the family, decided the boys would be better off living in the rural Washington home of the Sarinanas, said Berta's son, Martin Cevallos. Conrad moved in with the family about a year and a half ago while Ricky moved in about six months ago.
"Everything was going good at first," Martin Cevallos said. "They would call us and tell us that the boys got perfect attendance awards at school and that Conrad was playing track and basketball."
Rosa Morales, who asked the Cevalloses to speak on the family's behalf, was ready to bring the boys home for several months but her brother kept saying he had no money to fly them home. Then Raul Sarinana called to say that Conrad had run away. He said the teenager had been misbehaving, Berta Cevallos said. Raul Sarinana told the family he would remain in Washington looking for Conrad while Cathy Sarinana moved to her aunt's home in Sacramento with Ricky and her two small children, Martin Cevallos said.
But on Christmas Eve, Cevallos discovered Sarinana had given a fake address when he tried to check on the boys Christmas Eve while on a business trip to Sacramento.
On Christmas Day, a somber Ricky called Berta Cevallos' home and told his sister Vanessa, 22, that he wanted to come back. That same day, Rosa Morales began making plans to find a home for her and the boys. "All this time, we thought they were in Sacramento, but they were really just the next county over in Corona," Martin Cevallos said.
Family and friends gathered throughout the day Thursday outside the modest La Puente home of Berta Cevallos.
Investigators have located four residences for the family so far in Lewis County in southwest Washington. Neighbor Mark Mowery remembers seeing one boy get off a school bus on occasion but rarely saw anyone outside on the 6-acre lot. Bags of garbage piled up around the gray manufactured home with white trim. He was one of the neighbors interviewed when the aunt reported the boy missing.
After the family moved down the road to Winlock, the bags remained. In a help to detectives, no one moved into the home after the Sarinanas left, Chief Criminal Deputy Joe Doench of Lewis County said.
Family Remembers
Through tears, family members recalled memories of the brothers while trying to grasp how their deaths could have happened.
The family, including the boys' mother, learned of their death through a television news report.
They remembered Conrad as a caring and charming young man who loved to spend time with friends. Ricky was obsessed with television, especially cartoons and his video games. The boys were good friends, family members said.
Photos of the boys smiling at Christmas time and other family gatherings were bathed in the soft glow of candlelight on the driveway. Balloons soared above that read, "We love you," and "Miss you."
"One minute you're numb and in shock," Berta Cevallos said, crying while gazing at the boys' photo. "The next minute, you can't stop crying."
Staff writer Linda Lou and researcher Flint Johnston contributed to this article.
Reach Jessica Zisko at (951) 375-3721 or jzisko@pe.com
Melissa Watkins 9-years-old
Durham Woman Charged With Murder Of Adopted Daughter
Authorities Believe Melissa Watkins Was Abused
DURHAM, N.C. -- A Durham woman has been charged with murdering her adopted daughter, who died last year of injuries suffered in 1995.
Melinda Ann Wilkins, 40, was arrested Tuesday in Durham and charged with the death of Melissa Wilkins. Melissa Wilkins, 9, died from complications of injuries she suffered on Aug. 16, 1995, when she was 19 months old, according to investigators.
Melinda Wilkins was originally arrested and charged with felony child abuse after Melissa Wilkins was admitted to Duke University Hospital. She served 2-1/2 years in prison.
At that time, investigators said the child, who was unconscious when she was taken to the hospital, suffered a blood clot on the brain, retinal hemorrhaging, a fractured back and a fractured skull. Investigators also said that doctors found evidence of old scars and rib fractures.
"This child never stood a chance," said Detective Art Holland of the Durham Police Department. "It was pitiful for an 18-month-old. The injuries on her body -- they were non-accidential."
Wilkins told police her adopted daughter fell off a couch. Later, she told detectives she had dropped Melissa.
Melissa Wilkins never recovered from the injuries and lived in residential treatment centers until she died in June 2003.
The Durham Police Department was not notified that Melissa Wilkins had died until July 29, 2004, when they were contacted by the State Medical Examiner's Office in Chapel Hill.
Wilkins is in the Durham County Jail without bond. She will have a bond hearing on Wednesday.
Reporter: Julia Lewis Photographer: Chad Flowers OnLine Producer: Kamal Wallace
Corey Greer 12-year-old
Corey Greer might have survived the overcrowding, if only he had been white.
Somebody "erred on the side of the child" and placed Corey Greer of Treasure Island, Florida, in a foster home that would later be described by police as "filthy and overcrowded." The home was licensed for four children. By the time Corey Greer died in his crib of dehydration, 12 were living there. The foster mother was convicted of manslaughter and third degree murder.
Corey Greer might have survived the overcrowding, if only he had been white. According to a witness at the foster mother's trial, the foster mother said that touching black children "just gives me the willies." According to the witness, the foster mother referred to Corey Greer as "a big black blob."
Michelle Walton 7-year-old
Michelle was chronically sexually abused during her time in "care."
Authorities in Massachusetts decided to "put the child first" and take seven-year-old Michelle Walton away from her parents. They made a "child focused" decision. They "erred on the side of the child."
Three years later, the body of Michelle Walton was found in the dirty hallway of her foster home, under 380 pounds of Sheetrock. Her foster mother says it was an accident. But a judge found that it was murder. And he found that Michelle was chronically sexually abused during her time in "care."
No one has been charged. According to the Boston Globe, Michelle's mother "heads to work every day with a worn Peanuts knapsack on her back crammed with her daughter's autopsy report and assorted other documents that chronicle her death and proffers them to most anyone interested. Not many are.
"'I carry 'em because it makes it easier for my sanity ... It helps me from going insane. Or maybe it just keeps her alive a little bit longer.
Jimmy Allan Wood 13-year-old
November 13 2002, drug overdose & Physical abuse,Adams County Colorado.
Shyanna Durst 11-months-old
Galesburg. Died Feb. 9, 2003
A neighbor who was the subject of a child abuse investigation agreed to baby-sit Shyanna. A DCFS caseworker allowed this arrangement. An inspector general's report stated the baby sitter, who had a sleep disorder, was lethargic because she was overweight. The report also stated she spent her family's benefits check on calls to psychic hot lines. When a DCFS supervisor learned the baby sitter's live-in boyfriend had a felony record for selling crack cocaine, the supervisor implemented a "safety plan" that required another adult -- a relative or friend -- to be with her children at all times. However, the baby sitter refused to allow a caseworker into her home to make sure another adult was there. Shyanna accidentally choked to death on loose binding from a mattress while the baby sitter slept.
DCFS DISCIPLINE: None
Cree Lynn Scott 10 -months-old
Died Aug. 24, 2000,Olney,MD
A DCFS child abuse investigation began when Cree Lynn came to a hospital with bruising. Caseworkers sent her to live with a relative, and her mother agreed to counseling. But despite a supervisor's concerns, the DCFS assigned the mother's former private therapist to be her new caseworker. Because of the prior relationship, "The caseworker accepted all of the mother's self-reports about substance abuse, employment and the baby's health care, and neglected to verify information when obvious discrepancies arose," the inspector general reported. This optimistic but false picture resulted in Cree Lynn being returned home. A few weeks later, her mother's boyfriend shoved a wad of tissue paper down the infant's throat to make her stop crying. The baby choked to death. The boyfriend, Chad Jones, pleaded guilty to involuntary manslaughter.
DCFS DISCIPLINE: Faced with discipline, the caseworker resigned. The supervisor received counseling.
Haley Gray 4-year-old
CPS decision angers father of dead child
SCOTTSDALE - State records show that Arizona Child Protective Service workers recommended that a judge return three Scottsdale children to their mother three months early, even though they had been concerned about her alcoholic relapses.
The mother, Celene Gray, 35, has since been charged with child abuse after 4-year-old Haley was found by police on Sept. 10 in Celene's van, unconscious and gasping for breath. She died four days later of heat exhaustion.
Gray is awaiting trial on the charge, and is expected to be in Maricopa County Superior Court on Tuesday for a hearing.
John Gray, 44, the children's father, said he had repeatedly warned CPS that his ex-wife's drinking was endangering the children. Gray was angered that a judge returned the children to his ex-wife in February.
"They gave the children to her early," he said, "because they didn't want to give them to me because of discrimination to fathers."
CPS removed the children from Celene Gray on Sept. 23, 2004, after she was arrested on a drunken-driving charge. A case-management report said the children were not to be returned to her until May 2005.
Liz Barker, a CPS spokeswoman, said she could not comment because John Gray has filed a $6.5 million notice of claim against the agency, a precursor to a lawsuit.
Celene Gray could not be reached for comment, but she admitted to police that she had been drinking until 3 a.m. the night Haley was found in the van. She said she put all of the children in one room for a nap, and lay down to rest. Celene called police about 5 p.m. when she discovered Haley missing.
Police found Haley in the unlocked van about 6 p.m.
According to a CPS summary, Haley may have been gone about 90 minutes.
Haley was found in her mother's van struggling to breathe. She had slipped into the unlocked van while her mother slept but couldn't get out. She was removed from life support four days later.
Police reports show that Celene still had alcohol in her system three hours after her daughter was found.
John Gray was not sure what he wanted for Haley last September as she lay in a coma.
"I didn't know whether I wanted her to live or to die," he said, "because I didn't know how much her brain had been damaged."
John says he grieves every day over the loss of his daughter, but says "she's in a better place."
In the last few months of her life, she and her two brothers had been in and out of shelters as their mother struggled to stay sober.
After she completed a rehab program in late October 2004, she was to be reunited with her children on Nov. 1. But according to a state document, Celene, now 35, was found drunk by caseworkers who wrote that the children were "once again at risk" as result of their mother's drinking. A case-management report said the children were not to be returned to the mother until May.
Still, a judge returned the children to their mother in February 2005 based in part on CPS workers' reports that the children were doing well in her custody, and that her random drug tests were negative. The court continued to have oversight and the children were still in CPS custody.
John, who says he hasn't had a drink in 15 years, finds it ironic that while he was allowed only visitations with his children, CPS turned them over to him immediately after Haley's death and their mother's arrest.
"The boys are doing great," he said, showing pictures of them in sports uniforms.
CPS, he said, ignored the fact that the children had been removed from their mother twice in Florida, and refused to credit him with parenting and anger-management classes he had taken in that state.
"I was perplexed by that because I was clearly the better parent," he said.
Now he is pushing for "Haley's Law" requiring Arizona to check other states for records of child abuse or neglect. And he has a Web site, azcpsabuse.com dedicated to Haley and what he considers CPS' mishandling of the case.
"When you are caring for children," he said, "one mistake is too many."
HALEY'S LAW
After John Gray's 4-year-old daughter, Haley, died after being left in her mother's hot car, he wanted someone to blame.
He blamed the girl's mother for neglecting Haley while she slept off a night of drinking.
He blamed Child Protective Services for overlooking the woman's repeated history of abuse and neglect and still awarding her custody of their three children.
He even blamed himself for not doing enough to save Haley.
"Initially I was angry and I wanted to be vindicated, personally," says the Scottsdale man. "And what I realized was that this was bigger than Haley. It was bigger than just one child losing her life."
To prevent any other child from suffering in an abusive home, Gray began working to find a way to reform CPS.
Haley's mother had a history of neglecting Haley and her two brothers when they lived in Florida, but that record wasn't taken into account when they moved to Arizona.
So Gray created a bill known as Haley's Law, which would require CPS to consider substantiated allegations of abuse or neglect committed in other jurisdictions when deciding which parent to place children with in custody disputes.
"We are not the only family who has gone through this situation," Gray says. "Instead of hate, I wanted to turn it into something out of love and compassion and helping people."
In January the legislation was unanimously approved in committee, and it is expected to be heard next session in the state Senate.
"I believe God has his hand in all this," he says. "My daughter lives on, not only in our hearts, but she's involved in some change."
Carol Sowers The Arizona Republic May. 27, 2006 12:00 AM
Kerianne Bradley 16-month-old
CPS failed Kerianne
Family feels failed by officials
DEAD CHILD: A previous custody decision was affected by one doctor's view of an injury's cause.
Though several doctors suspected child abuse, Riverside County accepted a lead doctor's opinion that a 16-month-old's broken arm was accidental and closed its investigation in late December, officials said.
Kerianne Bradley was then released from Loma Linda University Medical Center. Six weeks later, she died of head wounds that police and prosecutors allege her mother's live-in boyfriend had inflicted the previous day.
The boyfriend, Ryan Christopher Mickey, 26, was charged this week in connection with the death of the toddler as well as a child-abuse allegation.
In building its case, the Riverside County district attorney's office relied on the doctors who were overruled by the county's Child Protective Services unit on the cause of the broken arm.
"CPS failed Kerianne," said Denise Pou, the girl's maternal grandmother. "We put our trust in their expertise."
Pou said the unit put Kerianne in her custody after the Dec. 30 arm injury, but the girl was returned to her mother, Jennifer Corrine Bradley, two days after being released from the hospital. Officials told Pou that its doctors accepted Mickey's report that the girl had fallen while running, Pou said.
Child Protective Services told Pou that its team of forensic doctors agreed that the injury had not been the result of abuse.
"I asked CPS to do a follow-up, if they could check in on her," Pou said. "They said no."
When Child Protective Services hears of a child's injury, it asks a forensic doctor to conduct an examination, said Jennie Pettet, Riverside County's deputy director of children's services. The unit falls under the county's Department of Public Social Services.
In situations where there might be conflicting views from doctors, the department puts more weight on the forensic doctor's opinion, she said. But the department considers all information from other doctors, parents, law enforcement, teachers and others.
Pettet and Sylvia Deporto, also a deputy director of the same unit, said they could not comment on the case.
Grier Weeks, executive director of the National Association to Protect Children, said doctors should be trained to spot child abuse and immediately report it. Child-abuse deaths usually are preceded by obvious signs, he said.
"It's almost always known to the system first. It's almost never a surprise," said Weeks, whose organization pushes for child-abuse prevention in a variety of ways, including legislation. "Essentially, children are dying, and we're not listening."
In the case of Kerianne Bradley, a 911 call on Feb. 4 brought officers to the home on Murrieta's Broken Arrow Way that Mickey was sharing with the girl and her mother. Mickey had called for help, saying the girl had stopped breathing.
The officers noticed that Kerianne had bruises and suspected abuse, said Murrieta police Sgt. Jim Ganley. A preliminary autopsy showed the child had died from blunt-force trauma to her head, Ganley said.
Prosecutors on Wednesday charged Mickey with murder plus child abuse from the Dec. 30 incident that left Kerianne's arm broken.
"All the evidence points to him being responsible for breaking her arm," said Deputy District Attorney Sean Lafferty.
Doctors initially suspected abuse, and reports indicate that Child Protective Services did too, Lafferty said.
One of the doctors at Loma Linda could not confirm Kerianne's broken arm was the result of abuse and said the injury matched Ryan Mickey's explanation, Lafferty added.
That doctor makes the final call, he said.
Ingrid Wyatt, a spokeswoman for the Riverside County district attorney's office, said prosecutors filed the abuse charge based on the conclusions of an emergency-room doctor and the girl's pediatrician, who determined that the broken arm was consistent with child abuse.
Now family members are left to remember the girl they would have called "the spunky one" as she grew older, said Mary Sierra, Kerianne's great-aunt.
Relatives will remember the girl's laugh, independence and love for the characters Shrek, Barney and the Teletubbies.
Before Kerianne died, a dozen or so family members gathered at her hospital bed and sang "I Love You," Barney's theme song.
"The system failed her and failed the family," Sierra said.
Loma Linda University Medical Center's media affairs officials did not return calls requesting comment Friday.
Staff writers Jessica Zisko, Douglas Quan, Tim O'Leary, Richard K. DeAtley and John Asbury contributed to this report.
Gerri Beth-10 & Ryan Miesner-12
For nearly 10 years Lynn Miesner sought protection for her children Geri Beth and Ryan in the Bergen County Courts to no avail. The children were 10 and 12 when their father, Avi Kostner, gassed them in the parking lot of the Teaneck Police Department.
Avi Kostner, who was spared the death penalty by a jury 13 months ago for the murder of his two children, died of cancer in New Jersey State Prison in Trenton on Sunday morning, officials said yesterday.
Mr. Kostner, 53, admitted that he drugged and strangled his son, Ryan, 10, and his daughter, Gerri Beth, 12, in 1994 after losing custody of them in a long court fight.
Mr. Kostner blamed their deaths on the judges who denied him custody and on his former wife, Lynn Mison. Mr. Kostner, who was serving consecutive life sentences, said he killed his children to prevent Mrs. Mison, who had remarried, from converting them from Judaism to Christianity.
Juli-Anna St. Peter 2-year-old
Death of 2 year old, April 13th, 2004 Anna Marie Mooers and Curtis Brent Hathaway have been charged with Criminal Negligence Causing Death by failing to provide medical assistance to 2 year old Juli-Anna St. Peter. She was pronounced dead on April 13th, 2004 at hospital in Woodstock.
The investigation was conducted by the Major Crime Unit South with the assistance of RCMP District 7 Woodstock. They appeared in Woodstock Provincial Court this morning, July 5, 2005 and the matter has been set over to August 2, 2005 at 9:30 to enter a plea.
Sgt. Ron Gosselin will be available at 15:30 at RCMP J Division HQ in Fredericton to answer questions
Woodstock, Canada April 13th, 2004 Medical neglect
Ariana Swinson 2-year-old
A 2-year-old girl dies at her parents' hands after the system meant to protect her fails
The emergency room doctor had never seen a body so badly beaten. The victim, already dead when she was carried into Port Huron Hospital on Jan. 31, weighed just 26 pounds. Her skull was cracked. Her right elbow was broken. Bruises, fresh and old, covered her arms, legs, feet, back, chest and head. Her name was Ariana Swinson. She was 2 years old. Her parents, Ed Swinson, then 27, and Linda Paling, then 28, had beaten and drowned her that night. She never should have been in harm's way to begin with. For her first 18 months, Ariana was happy and carefree, nurtured by relatives who took her in when her parents' lives fell apart. But her parents persuaded a court and the state's child welfare agency to give her back. Nine months later, she was dead. This is Ariana's story: the tale of a dysfunctional family and a system that failed. Like most victims in such cases, her story was never told. Until now.
Quachaun Browne 4-year-old
Quachaun Browne, 4, died on Jan. 29,2006 after being beaten.
At Wake for Abused Boy, Tears Express What Words Cannot
The dozens who turned up for Quachaun Browne's wake in the Bronx yesterday walked inside the funeral home with steady, stoic faces. Ten or 12 or 20 minutes later, most walked out in tears.
They hung their heads and waved away cameras. Then they wandered off. The boy was dead, and there was nothing much to say, so many didn't speak.
"I needed to come ? for the children," said Diane Maloney, expressing what many may have sensed, but few seemed willing to discuss: that no one really wanted to be standing there at the McKeon Funeral Home in the Norwood section of the Bronx, but that many felt they had to.
"This was to show them that these things actually happen," Ms. Maloney, a neighbor, said, referring to her nephew, Bobby Acevedo, 10, and her niece, Bianca Vasquez, 13, who stood beside her in the cold.
"It's got to be stopped ? for the children," she repeated yet again.
"It," "these things," "this": euphemisms of the baldest sort. It seemed that no one at the wake yesterday could bring themselves to use specific words.
They didn't want to say out loud that, at 4 years old, Quachaun had been beaten to death, strapped with a belt and tossed against a wall. They didn't want to talk about his lacerated spleen, his damaged pancreas or his tiny fractured skull.
So they spoke of what they could, of the things that were easy to say. They spoke about his smile, his loving temperament, his taste for jumping up to smother you in hugs.
"He was so full of joy," said Daisy Castro, another neighbor, who lived across the street. "And he had such a lovable spirit. Any time that anyone went over there, he would jump on them like that."
It was Jan. 29 when Quachaun was killed ? the victim, officials say, of his mother's boyfriend, Jose Calderon, 18. He has been charged with murder and now resides in a cell on Rikers Island, accused of beating Quachaun over the course of several days after the boy knocked over his 27-inch flat screen television.
Quachaun's mother, Aleshia Smith, is also in a cell on Rikers Island, charged with manslaughter, the authorities say, for having failed to prevent her boy's death. At least six times since 2004, the city received complaints about Quachaun's family and four times since November caseworkers from the Administration for Children's Services went to visit the family's home.
But it was not enough to prevent his death or the incarceration of the adults who gave him care. In a coincidence, Mandinga Browne, Quachaun's father, is also jailed at Rikers, awaiting trial in an unrelated gun charge.
So it was that most of those who turned up yesterday were neighbors, friends and distant relatives ? those who knew Quachaun but may not necessarily have known him all that well. There were preachers and detectives, the elderly and students. They came with gifts ? flowers, books and candles. They came with their grief and with their hats in hand.
They came to see the dead boy in the starched white suit and skullcap, with the look of peaceful tender stillness on his face. He lay there in the coffin with his eyes closed and his lips set. A stuffed bear lay beside him, as if indeed he were asleep.
"I'm shocked ? it's just not right," said Dela Amuzu, who came with her own four children: Thomas, Eric, Kevin and Stella. "You cannot do this to your children. How can you let your boyfriend slam your child into a wall? It's just not right."
It was the second time in a month that mourners gathered in the city to recall the memory of a murdered child. The last was Nixzmary Brown, the 7-year-old whose wake drew hundreds to the Lower East Side. Perhaps expecting a similar crowd, the funeral home set out barricades along the sidewalk and its entryway was filled with uniformed officers from the local station house
Nixzmary's maternal grandmother, Maria Gonzalez, also appeared at Quachaun's wake last night, saying that she wanted to pay respects to his grandmother. The officers held the doors open for the mourners who passed through ? the stoic going in, the tearful going out.
Review of records showed there had been numerous signs of trouble.
A 16-month-old Brooklyn boy drowned in a filthy tub in a bathroom with no working light on Sunday while his mother spent 40 minutes in the next room playing CD's, prosecutors said yesterday as the city's Administration for Children's Services said it was starting its own full investigation of its handling of the troubled family.
Prosecutors said the boy, Dahquay Gillians, was found face-up in the bathtub by his mother, Tracina Vaughn. They said her companion checked on Dahquay and his brother, Tramel Vaughn, after arriving at her apartment in Bedford-Stuyvesant on Sunday evening and, thinking that the 16-month old was behind a shower curtain, left briefly to buy diapers and beer.
The Administration for Children's Services, which has been monitoring the family since Ms. Vaughn was arrested after a previous companion scalded Tramel with hot water in May 2004, said an initial investigation of the drowning showed its own caseworkers had been checking on the children at least twice a month recently. They had been in the apartment only last week, when the children were seen and found to be well fed and cared for, it said.
"We intend to gather all of the facts that will tell us what led to this child being in danger," said John B. Mattingly, the commissioner of children's services.
But interviews and a review of records showed there had been numerous signs of trouble in recent months.
The mother had violated the terms of her probation that followed the scalding by testing positive for marijuana.
She was required to attend drug counseling classes, and when she missed one, a probation violation was issued, according to a spokesman.
Also, Pat Bath, a spokesman for the Legal Aid Society, which provided law guardians for the two boys, said Ms. Vaughan missed a court appearance in October meant to monitor the children's well-being. Alarmed, the lawyers then asked that Ms. Vaughn bring the two boys to their offices.
The visit was scheduled for last Friday. Legal Aid said she never showed up. A.C.S. said its records showed she did make a court appearance in October, although the spokeswoman was unsure if she and the Legal Aid Society were talking about the same hearing.
The harrowing details of Dahquay's last moments in the apartment, at 355 Herkimer Street, were described in court yesterday as his mother stood silently at her arraignment. She was charged with endangering the welfare of a child and reckless endangerment.
Prosecutors said she spent 40 minutes playing CD's and searching for sanitary napkins, looking once in that time in the bathroom - which had no working light - to check on the children. The bathroom was so dark the mother herself was afraid to shower there, one law enforcement official said. "The conditions of the place were horrific," the official said.
Prosecutors said Ms. Vaughn's companion, whose name was not divulged in court, whom neighbors identified only as Gary, did not see the boy when he arrived in the apartment, thinking he was behind a curtain, and then left briefly. He is not a suspect, law enforcement sources said. Neighbors said he had moved in with Ms. Vaughn recently.
"His mother sees the 1-year-old face down in the tub," said Wilfredo Cotto, an assistant district attorney. He said that the companion performed CPR on Dahquay, and "a large amount of water was extracted from the child."
In March, Ms. Vaughn pleaded guilty to reckless endangerment of Tramel. Her previous companion, Tyrone Gillians, had placed the boy in scalding hot water after he soiled himself with excrement. The couple waited two days to report the burns, which oozed puss and covered 80 percent of his body.
Mr. Gillians was found guilty of assault, and imprisoned. Ms. Vaughan was placed on probation for not seeking immediate medical care for Tramel.
The Administration for Children's Services took Tramel into protective custody and placed him in foster care with a maternal cousin, Latisha Bond, in June, 2004.
Dahquay was born in July 2004 and was also placed with the cousin, who lives in Mastic, N.Y. Officials at the child welfare agency said both children were moved to a foster home closer to their mother in November 2004.
According to the agency, while the children were in foster care, their mother attended parenting classes and received individual therapy and counseling.
In March, a Family Court judge, identified by Legal Aid as Susan S. Danoff, ordered the children reunited with their mother and required the agency to supervise the family.
"There is no indication that our people did not do their basic job," Commissioner Mattingly said, "but there is going to be a second phase of this assessment to ask why we made the judgments we did with the information we had.
"Is it possible everyone involved took a certain angle and were missing some of the options," he said in response to a question of whether the agency had been overeager to return the children. "We have to look at all of those questions."
Ms. Bond, the cousin who had cared for the boys for part of their time in foster care in her tidy Long Island home, said, "The system failed again." She added: "We had several contacts with A.C.S. They knew what was happening and they did nothing. A.C.S. neglected the children."
Dahquay's death put a spotlight on the child welfare agency's policy of keeping troubled families together, theoretically under tight supervision.
As a result of that policy, the number of children in foster care in the city has dropped to a little over 17,000, down from a high of 49,000 in 1991. Meanwhile, the number of children who are victims of abuse or neglect who are being given services in their homes has grown to more than 35,000.
Child welfare advocates have begun to worry whether the agency has become too rigid in its commitment to keep families together and is not carefully evaluating each individual case.
"One of the concerns that I have had for a while is the belief that simply reducing the population necessarily means we have a better system," said Marcia Lowry, the executive director of Children's Rights Inc., a nonprofit group that issues periodic reports on New York's foster care system.
"It is really important that there be quality preventive and protective services," she said. And the city does not now have, nor has it had for years, a way to evaluate whether it is getting high-quality services for its money, she added.
After Ms. Vaughn's arraignment, her lawyer. Larry Rothstein, said that she maintained her innocence. He said he had asked that she be placed on suicide watch, and said he had requested that she be in held protective custody, in case "other ladies in the jail get wind of this."
Devin Slade 7- month-old
Boy's death in foster home to be reviewed .DA questions why baby was placed there
Prosecutors plan to review the death of a 7-month-old boy in a Milwaukee foster home, District Attorney E. Michael McCann said Thursday, adding that he would conduct an inquest if the boy's mother wants one.
"The child was put there for his own safety, and hours later, the child is dead," McCann said. "What is happening?
"If the child's mother wants an inquest, we will hold an inquest," McCann said.
The infant, Devin Slade, was placed in the foster home Sunday because both his parents were in jail; however, the adults living in the foster home have felony records themselves, court records reveal.
One of the adults, the foster mother's 30-year-old live-in boyfriend, was on probation for a 1999 battery conviction and has a criminal record that includes a 1989 felony conviction for recklessly endangering safety, two prior battery convictions and one for possession of a controlled substance. After Devin's death, the boyfriend's presence in the home was documented in internal Bureau of Milwaukee Child Welfare records.
By JAMAAL ABDUL-ALIM AND DAVID DOEGE
of the Journal Sentinel staff
Friday, June 22, 2001
Savanna 3-year-old
How Savanna was left to die
A three-year-old girl succumbed to abuse last year, dying allegedly at the hands of her mother. Her death leaves a trail of negligence by Dutch youth care services, but will a damning report lead to adequate change? Aaron Gray-Block reports.
The victim of regular abuse, the lifeless body of three-year-old Savanna was found in the boot of her mother's car last September.
She was the victim of failure; the shortcomings of those meant to protect her. A report condemned the Council for the Protection of Children and the Youth Care service in North Holland on Thursday.
The Youth Care Inspectorate report said the council, youth care services and the child abuse reporting office AMK made crucial errors, pointing out that it was known at least two-and-a-half years prior to Savanna's death that there were problems with the family.
In response to a report lodged with the AMK indicating that Savanna was the victim of neglect, malnutrition and possible abuse, the girl was placed into foster care in February 2002.
Six months later, Savanna was reunited with her mother ? who had moved from Nieuwkoop to Alphen aan den Rijn. But signals of abuse were being detected right up until her death on 20 September 2004.
Gruesome discovery
Police found Savanna's body after her mother, Sonja de J., and her partner, Mario B., were pulled over for driving on a road closed to traffic at night near the eastern Dutch town of Holten. A shovel was also found in the vehicle.
But De J. denied in a pre-trial hearing in The Hague Court last December that she killed Savanna, who is alleged to have died after a face cloth or sock was forced down her throat. Her mouth was then allegedly taped shut.
Both De J. and B. are accused of locking the toddler up in her bedroom and letting her choke to death and of trying to dispose of her body. De J. has allegedly confessed she was planning to bury her daughter's body.
The defendants are currently undergoing a psychiatric assessment in the Pieter Baan Centre. The trial is expected to commence at the end of May or the start of June. A third suspect, Reffles M., of Nieuwkoop, is accused of mistreating Savanna.
Prosecutors claim that Savanna was regularly allowed to starve and weighed just 10kg at the time of her death. The girl was allegedly refused food because she was naughty or failed to ask for it in proper Dutch.
An autopsy indicated acetone in her system, indicating that her body had started using itself as a source of nourishment for energy.
Negligence and no supervision
The first sketchy reports of Savanna's death have culminated thus far in the inspectorate's damming report accusing the child protection council of failing to evaluate the advisability of Savanna's return to her mother in July 2002.
The North Holland youth care bureau was rebuked for allowing Savanna to return home despite the fact that De J. refused parenting assistance and visits from social workers. Such actions were unacceptable, the inspectorate said.
A guardian (or voogd in Dutch) assigned the task of supervising the family listened too much to the mother's demands and explanations. She is also accused of negligence, having ignored various signals from neighbours and social work groups of regular abuse.
A manager failed to keep adequate watch on the guardian, refusing also to read the family's dossier. The bureau chief then failed to pass on the file to youth care services in the Alphen aan den Rijn region.
Accusations of a communication breakdown between various health and social work groups add to the drama. The AMK is accused of failing to pay heed to the final reports from health professionals about the family.
In that period, the family health clinic had urged the placing into foster care of both Savanna and a new baby in the family. But the AMK focused on the safety of the new baby because Savanna was already under supervision.
The inspectorate said the AMK should have more clearly stated its concerns for the safety of the three-year-old toddler.
Repeated failings
Savanna's death is reminiscent of the death of four-year-old Rowena Rikkers, whose limbless torso washed up at Nulde in August 2001. A hand and head were also found. The girl had been repeatedly beaten and abused.
Her identity remained unknown until a model of her head assisted in identifying in December 2001 what had become the "Girl from Nulde". Police arrested her mother and step-father in Spain that same month.
Wanda Rikkers was eventually jailed for six years on appeal in October 2003 and her partner, Mike J. was jailed for 12 years with TBS psychiatric detention in January 2003.
This time, schools were criticised for not only missing the fact that Rowena stopped attending school in the months leading up to her death, but that possibly the whereabouts of hundreds of other children across the nation were unknown.
Rowena moved with her mother in April 2001 to a home shared with partner J. in Rotterdam. Initially reported sick at her previous Dordrecht school, the school was later told that Rowena would be enrolled in Rotterdam. But she never attended classes there and was last seen alive on 2 August 2002.
There was also the tragic fire in Roermond in July 2002 in which six children were killed. Their father was jailed on appeal in September 2003 to 15 years jail and TBS for setting fire to the home while drunk. He had argued with his wife earlier that night.
The family's problems were well known to authorities and an inquiry in response to the tragedy found in December 2003 that social work assistance offered to problem families seriously falls short of the mark.
Various inspectorates said schools, youth care agencies, social work institutes, health authority GGD and municipal authorities failed to co-operate, accusing them of placing self-interest above the safety of problem families.
So what can be done?
Both the guardian of Savanna's family and her manager have been suspended. The public prosecutor has also started a criminal inquiry into the actions of the guardian, who could be charged with culpable homicide.
The North Holland youth care bureau has accepted the inspectorate's findings and will undergo restructuring.
Besides the re-division of tasks and responsibilities, branch organisation MOgroep said "far-reaching" personnel measures will be taken. It said the report was "harsh", but supported the findings.
Justice Minister Piet Hein Donner and Health State Secretary Clemence Ross were shocked by the report.
Despite this, they also told MPs that the measures taken by the North Holland youth care bureau provide sufficient guarantees that the chance of repeat incidents has been minimised.
The chief of the youth care inspectorate, Joke de Vries, said the investigation revealed that family guardians must realise they are the key figure in a situation where a child is at threat.
"They must call in extra expertise on time if there are indications of a complicated home situation and youth care bureaus must provide support and control. A guardian is not a social worker. He or she must organise and direct help," she said.
Inspectorate spokeswoman, Saskia Speelman, explained that in cases of drug addiction or mental health problems ? such as Savanna's mother ? a guardian should call in special assistance. Work is being done to make guardians more professional.
Officially, between 40 and 50 children die of abuse in the Netherlands, but that figure could be much higher. The Dutch government has thus been trying in the past few years to improve communication in health care services. De Vries has also urged for obligatory reporting of suspected abuse.
But Speelman also said "we can never stop incidents, how sad and horrible that is, we just can't watch in every window where children are living. We cannot prevent this happening again".
Asked whether social work services had learned the lessons from Roermond and Nulde cases, Speelman said the inspectorate hoped its report would shake up youth care services again. It is hoped that bureaus will communicate better and guardians will be given greater support.
But all of it will come too late to save Savanna ? and that's one fact that should never be forgotten.
10 March 2005
Caleb Jensen 15-years-old
Son died in wilderness program A mother seeks answers She says authorities in Utah and Colorado remain vague on what happened to boy
May 12, 2007 By Nate Carlisle
Caleb Jensen was not an innocent teenager, his mother admits, but he was supposed to get better.
A wilderness camp in Colorado was supposed to improve the 15-year-old's behavior and make him more respectful, said Dawn Boyd, Jensen's mother. That's why a Utah court sent him there.
Now Boyd wants something else out of the camp: answers as to how her son died.
"What's important to me is other mothers don't ever have to go through this again," Boyd said, "because this is the most horrible thing a mother can ever go through, losing a baby they think is going to get better."
Colorado authorities say Jensen died from a staphylococcus infection. Personnel at the camp, Alternative Young Adventures, observed signs of the infection, according to a state agency, but neglected to properly care for it.
The state of Colorado suspended the company's license this week.
Boyd suggested the state of Utah bears some responsibility, too. Speaking from her Salt Lake City apartment, Boyd said Jensen had been susceptible to infections, particularly on his face, ever since he was a toddler and contracted impetigo, a common skin infection in young children.
The state of Utah had Jensen's medical history, Boyd said, before it sent him to the camp. "He would get [an infection on his face] one day and the next day his face would just be swollen huge," Boyd said.
Boyd described her son as being somewhat different than the average teenager. He could have a bad attitude, the mother said, two or three times worse than other kids.
But the Bryant Middle School student also was smart, Boyd said. He was a writer, composing something between poetry and rap lyrics.
He was funny, too. "Maybe he could have been a comedian," Boyd said. "Maybe he could have been a lawyer. He could have been anything. He was so smart."
Boyd declined to give specifics of what her son did to get in trouble with the law, but said it was not violent, nor an egregious crime. "He was one of those kids that wanted to fit in with everyone," Boyd said, "and he got in with a group of kids and they dared him to steal something and he got caught."
A juvenile court issued a sentence, Boyd said, but Jensen did not follow the terms. The court then sent Jensen to the Youth Adventures camp near Montrose, Colo. Boyd said the court informed her of what was happening to her son but did not give her a choice in the matter.
Jensen arrived at the camp on March 28. He wrote once a week to his mother or two sisters. "He just mainly spoke of how they hiked up big mountains, and how tired he was from hiking everyday," Boyd said. "He was so tired and he just explained to us that he was optimistic to get out of the program and do what he needed to do to come home and get back right with his family," she added.
Then on May 2, Boyd received a telephone call from someone at Youth Adventures. A man on the other end told her Jensen had been placed on a helicopter to be flown to a hospital and he died.
Boyd said she asked the man what he was talking about. Then she realized what he was saying. "It was all blurry," Boyd said in an interview. "I lost it.
I handed the phone to my fiance." Her fiance, Boyd said, learned from the man Jensen had been on a "down day," where the kids take a break from hiking to attend lectures and counseling sessions.
Jensen was sitting on his sleeping bag speaking to a staff member, the man said. Five or 10 minutes later, Boyd said the man told her fiance, someone called out to Jensen and he didn't answer. At some point, the boy slumped over.
The family does not know where her son was pronounced dead. Boyd said she did not receive any information from the coroner investigating her son's death until she hired an attorney.
Then, Boyd said, she had to make the arrangements to bring her son's body to Salt Lake City.
At some point she received $1,500 in checks, but in her confusion she didn't note whether they came from the state or from Youth Associates.
Boyd said she saw her son's body for the first since he left Utah on Tuesday, the day before his funeral. He had sores on the outside of his mouth, Boyd said. "It wasn't even until the day before my son's funeral that I was overnighted a letter from [Youth Associates] with an apology," Boyd said.
Boyd declined on Friday to say who she holds responsible for her son's death. Instead, she just talked about the answers she's seeking. "I don't know any of the details [of Jensen's death]," Boyd said. "I'd like to know what my son's last words were."
Jasmine Lorrington was 4 when she died in Brent on 5th July 1984.
She was so badly beaten, burnt, starved and tortured that scarcely a single part of her body was without injury. Dr Iain West of Guy's Forensic Medicine Department described her as looking like a Belsen victim. She had been kept a prisoner in a small bedroom with body-building weights tied to a broken leg to stop her moving. When she died she was emaciated and deformed, and weighed 1 stone 9 lb. She suffered "appalling cruelty", with 20 separate areas of bone injury, before finally being battered to death by her stepfather, dying of punches to the head. The social worker responsible for visiting Jasmine said in evidence to the subsequent enquiry that "the family obviously loved the children", though she admitted having seen Jasmine only once in 10 months, as she believed the family's excuses for her non-availability.
Jasmine's mother and stepfather had met as children in a school for the educationally subnormal.
Cory Bradley McLaughlin 4-year-old
This case shows how the entire system: social workers, court officials, foster care, and adoption has failed to be in the "best interest" of children.
July 4, 1997, paramedics went to the North Carolina home of 45 year-old Eddiesenior McLaughlin and found 4-year-old, adoptee, Cory Bradley McLaughlin, severely beaten. He was pronounced brain-dead at the hospital not long before he was taken off life support. Both of his little hands and one foot were burned. There were bruises on his back, stomach, legs, and a lump on his forehead.
On April 8, 1999, McLaughlin pleaded guilty to felony child abuse and second-degree murder. She used a computer keyboard to beat the boy to death. Mrs. McLaughlin said she was disciplining Cory for hiding her rings. She was sentenced to only 7 - 10 years in prison followed by 5 years probation.
During a search of McLaughlin's home, detectives found a contract between the adopter and Michael, an adoptee who'd been removed from the home. In the contract, he promised not to rub his eyes, scratch himself, tear holes in his clothes, write incorrect words, enter rooms without permission, watch movies, play outside, or play with toys. He also promised to pay back Mrs. McLaughlin for any damages to her belongs while he lived there.
Eight-year-old, Michael, had been removed from the home one month before Cory's death by Social Services after he revealed that Mrs. McLaughlin had forced him to drink rubbing alcohol. The adopter was in full agreement with the removal saying that she could not handle the boy without her husband. She had always complained that Michael was a problem for her. Nevertheless, they left Cory at the mercy of this woman. If they had been his real parents instead of adopters, I'm sure all children would have been removed from the home along with Michael.
McLaughlin's husband was stationed in Bosnia at the time of these incidents. Michael is currently living with another member of the McLaughlin family.
McLaughlin's lawyer stated that the adopter has "psychological difficulties" and blames the abuse on "mental illness." McLaughlin was diagnosed with paranoid and schizotypical personality disorders, with traits of obsessive compulsiveness by psychologist Thomas Harbin. Why was this couple allowed to adopt children?
According to the report of an investigation into Cory's death, the Department of Social Services did not accept information provided by the community as a formal report of abuse or neglect in the case of the McLaughlins. It is implied in the report that social workers intervened on behalf of the couple because they were adopters. It is also stated that social workers were confused about how to respond to the allegations of abuse because the children were adopted.
The report did not make any recommendations about failures in the adoption system.
The director of Social Services, Chip Modlin, said there had been no allegations of abuse against Cory. After family members, friends and teachers said that they did warn Social Services about their suspicions and signs of abuse, Modlin then said that every allegation of abuse made about Cory was investigated.
The foster family who had Cory before he and Michael were both adopted by the McLaughlins in 1996 is suing the Cumberland County Department of Social Services for an undisclosed amount of money. The lawsuit purports to seek money for Cory's "brothers and sisters." I cannot imagine who these "brothers and sisters" might be since Cory was adopted. I hope the foster family doesn't think they are entitled to any money from Cory's death.
It is difficult to investigate CPS failures because child protection laws require confidentiality. When Cory's records were ordered to be released, it was only the second time a Superior Court judge ordered the release of such records. Then the lawyer for the county held up release of the records asking for an agreement that only certain people will be able to see them.
"They hide behind confidentiality laws so much that nothing ever gets changed. All they have to do is close up the records and say they can't name the social worker," said Cory's former foster caregiver. I want to add that they also do this in cases where foster families are abusive to the children in their care.
The foster family had cared for Cory since his birth. If he was relinquished, I wonder if this is what his mother wanted for her son when she chose adoption.
Ironically, the McLaughlins live on Einstein Drive.
Melanie Rae McCarter 6-year-old
Dec. 1, 1999 - May 25, 2006
Open Case with DYFS
Melanie Rae McCarter, 6, was fatally shot by her father, Scott McCarter, 40, on May 25, 2006. Her father also killed her mother, Wendy Carol Bennett McCarter, 35, and her brother, Scotty D., 12, before turning the gun on himself. At the time of the murders, McCarter was on trial on charges of molesting his teenaged stepdaughter (Wendy's daughter) and the girl's best friend. The bodies of the family were found the morning McCarter was supposed to take the stand in his own defense. Wendy's family found out about the murders as they waited in the courtroom for his trial to resume. Melanie was known as the blond moppet of the neighborhood, always following her mother around. She loved Sponge Bob Squarepants. Her favorite song, "Who Let the Dogs Out?" was played at her funeral. Her school, Mount Pleasant Elementary School in Millville, NJ, dedicated a tree, with a plaque underneath, to both Melanie and her brother Scotty, who also had attended Mount Pleasant. The family's initial involvement with DYFS dated back to 2004, when DYFS substantiated that Mr. McCarter had sexually abused another child. The case remained active since that time and DYFS was regularly engaged with the McCarter children. In May, Mr. McCarter went on trial for the sexual abuse allegation. He failed to appear in court on May 25th. Instead, he apparently went to his children's home and shot them, killed their mother Wendy Bennett, then turned the gun on himself.
The deaths of Sean, Melanie, Scotty and Ms. Bennett have brought into sharp focus the connection between domestic violence and child welfare. At DYFS, we have the responsibility to ensure children's safety. To guide our efforts in the context of family violence, we recently hired Jane Sweeney, one of the state's most respected domestic violence experts, to join DCF and strengthen our collaboration with the 21 lead domestic violence agencies in each county. Jane and our executive staff are creating training and technical assistance for our DYFS field staff who encounter family violence every day and need to know how to access resources and sanctuary, navigate the legal system and ensure that children are safe.
Ocean Ahles 3-year-old
May 27, 2003 - April 10, 2006
Ocean Ahles (born May 27, 2003) of Bergen County died due to complications from medical neglect on April 10, 2006. That day Ocean was transported to the hospital by ambulance and police, but she had already died. She had reportedly been sick for the prior two weeks with gastroenteritis (inflammation of the membrane of the stomach), but her parents had not taken her to a doctor - only to an herbalist. Five years earlier, there was one prior call to DYFS involving the family, which occurred on January 5, 2001. A medical professional had called DYFS regarding Ocean's older brother's hospital stay following his birth. However, the parents and the hospital resolved the issue on the same day following the call and DYFS did not become involved in the matter.
Alyssa Scott 15-month-old
March 26, 2005 - June 16, 2006
Alyssa Scott (born March 26, 2005) of Middlesex County, who died June 16, 2006, was smothered and beaten shortly before her 24-year-old mother, Jerlisa Contreras, jumped from a bridge with the baby in her arms. Ms. Contreras and the baby both died. In the months before her suicide, Ms. Contreras' relationship with her boyfriend ended and she apparently experienced depression. Six years earlier, DYFS received one prior referral regarding Alyssa's brother, who was then six months old. When Alyssa's brother was in the hospital for hernia surgery, hospital staff had expressed concern that Ms. Contreras kept letting the side rail of the crib down when she visited her son. The case was closed in March 2000.
Samuel Craig Vitela 5-month-old
Oct. 28, 2006 - Apr. 25, 2007
A mother, in jail for drugs, mourns her baby's death
Summer Pearce only got to be mother a very short time. For part of that time, Pearce, 26, was behind bars at the county jail on a drug charge.
When she was arrested in February, her infant son, Samuel "Sammy" Vitela, was taken from her and placed in foster care in Fairfield. On April 25, three days before little Sammy was to turn six months old and on the very day his mother turned 26, he died while in foster care.
"I'm not a bad mother. I just made some very bad decisions. And I let a lot of people down, including my baby. I wasn't there to take care of him," Pearce said in a jail house interview.
"I'm done with drugs. God took my baby away from me to open my eyes," said Pearce. "All I pray for is just one more chance. I'm so sorry and so remorseful. Because of my addiction, I couldn't stop. I couldn't keep my promise to Sammy to be the best mother ever. I want to call my friends who still have their babies and tell them ?don't do stupid things that could make you lose your babies.' I never thought I would bury my Sammy."
The cause of Sammy's death is Sudden Infant Death Syndrome, according to Solano County Coroner's Office spokesman David Curl.
"We did an autopsy and found no signs of foul play. There in no indication of any criminal wrongdoing," Curl said.
Pearce never met her son's foster parents.
"I had no contact with them ever," she said. "The last time I saw my son was in Napa three weeks before he died. He was very congested. I think he was sick. I told them that. I don't think they listened to me."
Information about the baby's care while in foster care and other details of his death are not available because of confidentially issues with Child Protective Services.
The day Pearce was told of her baby's death started out as good day, she said.
"It was my birthday, and I had gone to court. Then that evening they told me I had a special visit. A person from CPS, a mental health officer and correctional officer walked into my room and told me my son had died," Pearce said. "I told them to get out my room. I was just in shock. I kept telling them to take my son out of foster care. My grandmother said she would care for him. As a matter of fact, my son died on a Wednesday, and that following Tuesday, he was supposed to go live with my grandmother until I got out of jail."
Officials at the Napa County jail arranged a seven-day pass for Pearce to attend her baby's funeral.
"Since he died while in foster care, CPS made the arrangements and paid for the services. We had a viewing on Saturday and graveside services on Sunday at Tulocay Cemetery. Everything was closed casket. I wanted to remember him the way he was, not lying in a coffin," Pearce said.
"When I saw the casket, that's when it really hit me for the first time he ? Sammy ? was really gone," she said. "After they lowered the casket into the grave and everyone threw in teddy bears and flowers, (cemetery staff) told me the service was over, and I had to leave. They didn't give me any time to grieve over my baby's grave."
Drug demons
Pearce has been doing drugs half of her life ? since she was 13.
"A friend offered me a line (of methamphetamine) and from there I was hooked. I did drugs almost every day. ... I was clean off and on. The longest I ever was clean was three years. But it seemed like something devastating would happen to me, and I would go back to the drugs."
Pearce said she remained clean and sober during her pregnancy.
"I waited a long time to have my baby. I wanted him to be healthy," she said. "But I couldn't get off the drugs. I started up again when he was a month old."
The day Pearce was arrested for drug charges, drug agents raided a Pine Street residence where Pearce was at the time with Sammy, her 18-month-old stepdaughter and a 6-year-old boy she was babysitting.
"I had just smoked a joint before they showed up. I hadn't done meth that day. I was going to, but Sammy started crying and I had to take care of him," she said.
Pearce was busted for possession of meth to sell and child endangerment. Her son and stepdaughter were taken by CPS and put in a foster home. Her stepdaughter and Sammy have the same father, who she said is in Mexico.
"We took a trip to Mexico after Sammy was born, and Sammy's dad couldn't return to the United States because he is illegal. I don't even know if he knows his son is dead," she said.
This is not the first brush with the law for Pearce. In 2005, she was arrested and convicted of possession of stolen property.
"That made me a felon, which makes it almost impossible to get a job," she said. "That's why I turned to selling drugs. I had to make a living. I don't have a place of my own, I just bounce around from friend to friend. So without rent to pay, I just needed enough money to buy food and put gas in the car."
Pearce sees her baby's death as a wake-up call.
"I would still have my son if I only could have stayed off the drugs, but my addiction was too strong. I think about Sammy every day. I suffer guilt and feel remorse every day of my life. I feel empty inside. Sammy was the only thing that was mine," Pearce said, wiping tears from her eyes. "He loved me so much and made me feel so good."
If there could be any positive thing to come from the death of her baby son, it is that Pearce is determine to kick her addiction.
"I am through with drugs once and for all. I don't want to use my son's death to ruin my life. I know he would not want that either," she said. "His death is like someone hit me in stomach with a bat and said ?Wake up, get off drugs and live your life.' I really want that. I want more babies. And through all of this I will have my Sammy, my little angel, looking down on me. I will make him proud."
Samuel Craig Vitela, 5 months, passed away unexpectedly on April 25, 2007. He was born in St. Helena on October 28, 2006 to Sandy Vitela and Summer Pearce.
Samuel was a happy baby with the biggest smile. He was nicknamed "P-nut" and he brought joy to all those who met him. His family will greatly miss their Little Angel.
Samuel is survived by his father, Sandy Vitela, his mother, Summer Pearce, two sisters, Aurora and Carol Santos Olguin, and his grandparents, Jeffrey and Elizabeth Resendez.
A graveside service will be held on Monday May 7, at 1:00, at Tulocay Cemetery with Pastor Mike Ray officiating. Visitation will be on Sunday May 6, from 12:00 to 5:00pm at Richard Pierce Funeral Service, 1660 Silverado Trail.
Jayla Thompson Fox 2-year-old
Died March 28 ,2007
Outrage After A Child Dies While In Foster Care
(CBS13)SACRAMENTO After a child dies while in foster care some claim a state service isn't protecting, but neglecting.
A lot of outcry and outrage happened on the west steps of the capitol after young girl died in foster care. Supporters of two-year-old Jayla Fox said the child died under the care of foster parents.
"She was sick. I saw her," said Brianna Fox, Jayla's mother.
The father and mother say their baby girl didn't have to die.
"We have a two-year-old dead baby on our hands. I love and miss my daughter. I wish she was with me today, but she is not," said father Tyrone Thompson.
Jayla and her brother, four-year-old John, were taken from their parents and placed in foster care for reasons not disclosed. During a recent a visitation with her children, the mother told the social worker her kids looked sickly and thin and wanted them placed with different foster parents because she suspected abuse.
But the social worker disagreed, and within 30-days the little girl was dead from pneumonia.
Betty Williams of the Sacramento NAACP stepped in as an advocate for the family, and wanted John placed with pre Brianna's family.
"When somebody walks in through the NAACP, it is that they are going outside the family and that piece of the system needs to be fixed," said Williams.
CBS13 spoke with C.P.S. who released this statement: "Based on the information we have received from our medical experts as well as a review of our records, it appears that Jayla received prompt and appropriate medical treatment while in foster care. We have asked our medical partners to review this case to be absolutely certain. Nevertheless, anytime a child dies, whether from illness or injury, it is heart-breaking. The many CPS workers who knew Jayla share in the community's grief."- Child Protective Services representative Laurie Slothower.
The good news for the family, they wanted the boy taken out of the foster parents' home. Yesterday the little boy was taken out of the home, and placed into a different foster care. The family says they are happy about that.
Sarah Chavez 2-year-old
A Child's Death Reveals a System's Tragic Flaw
Crucial information from foster mothers was missed; it might have kept Sarah Chavez alive.
'AMAZING GIFT' Sarah plays with foster parent Dianne Hardy-Garcia last spring. She spent three months in foster care.
By Noam N. Levey, Times Staff Writer
Corri Planck and Dianne Hardy-Garcia were overjoyed when they got the call.
Driven by a hope they might someday adopt a needy child, the Los Angeles couple had spent months training to become foster parents. Now, county welfare officials were looking for a safe home for Sarah Chavez, a 2-year-old girl. Like giddy new parents, Planck and Hardy-Garcia rushed to buy furniture, toys and a stroller for the toddler. "We felt like, wow, what an amazing gift," Hardy-Garcia said recently.
Over the next three months, the women took Sarah to the zoo and on long walks in the neighborhood, where the little girl waved at strangers. Sometimes they would stay up at night just watching Sarah sleep.
Then it all changed. On a Monday afternoon last April, the couple was told to pack up Sarah's clothes because a court referee had ordered the toddler returned to her aunt and uncle, even though social workers had once suspected them of abusing her.
By fall the little girl with pigtails, who liked snails and dancing to show tunes, was dead ? beaten, prosecutors now allege, by the same aunt and uncle. Both have pleaded not guilty.
Sarah's death in October marked a grim episode in a gargantuan child welfare system that struggles each year to rescue thousands from abuse or neglect while still preserving families whenever possible. Deaths like hers are not unheard of, but they are rare.
But the tragedy highlighted what many say is a widespread, if sometimes overlooked, weakness in child welfare systems nationwide: As social workers, attorneys and judges look to reunite children with their parents or relatives, they too often ignore the voices of the foster parents who have been tucking the children into bed every night.
Local child welfare officials acknowledge they must do more to reach out to foster parents like Planck and Hardy-Garcia.
"It's really critical that we have information from them," said David Sanders, director of the county Department of Children and Family Services. "They spend 24 hours a day with the children, while our social workers spend maybe two or three hours a month.
"Unfortunately, our system is not at that ideal," said Sanders, who added that since Sarah's death, he has begun working on ways to ensure more involvement by foster parents.
For Planck and Hardy-Garcia, joy quickly turned to heartache, followed by agonizing months of frustration over a system they believe repeatedly let Sarah down.
The couple said that they saw signs of abuse from the moment Sarah arrived at their door and that they begged child welfare officials to investigate more fully.
They couldn't find out when Sarah's case was in dependency court. They never were given a standard court form designed to solicit the opinions of foster parents.
And Sarah's court-appointed attorney didn't call until the day she told them to have Sarah ready to be picked up by the relatives now accused of killing her.
"It was sickening," Planck said. "This little girl was precious and amazing and spectacular and deserved so much better."
An internal county investigation has faulted social workers for numerous oversights, including failing to adequately investigate Sarah's injuries when she entered foster care. And Sanders, as well as the head of a nonprofit agency that represents most foster children in court, both say they are reviewing their internal procedures.
Sarah entered the Los Angeles County foster care system on New Year's Day 2005.
That morning, Sarah's mother had called 911 after delivering a stillborn baby into the toilet of her grandmother's home on Los Angeles' Eastside, according to case reports.
At the time, Sarah, who had just turned 2, was staying with her aunt and uncle in nearby Alhambra. When social workers went to see her, they found the little girl with a cut on her nose and bruises under both eyes.
Sarah's aunt, Frances Abundis, told welfare officials that Sarah had fallen on a toy firetruck.
Records indicate that social workers and police were concerned about Sarah's injuries and investigators worried that the aunt and uncle, who had denied knowing her mother was pregnant, were trying to avoid giving Sarah up.
Sarah was removed from her aunt's house and placed in an emergency foster home. Within days, her case was before a court referee in Los Angeles County's Children's Court, the epicenter of a system undergoing a revolutionary change.
Officials once were quick to remove children from their families, but today there is a new emphasis on helping families repair themselves so once-abused children can be reunited with their parents or with other relatives.
Experts say children do better when living with relatives instead of strangers. Rob Geen, a child welfare specialist at the Urban Institute, based in Washington, D.C., said the results speak for themselves.
"Abuse of children in foster care is declining nationwide," he said.
The new approach, enshrined in law and widely endorsed by child advocates, is credited with dramatically reducing the number of children in foster care in big systems like Los Angeles County's. Since 2002, the county said, the number of children in its foster care program has dropped about 22%, to 21,248 as of December.
But child welfare officials agree that in some cases, reunification may not be possible. And they now sometimes turn to people like Planck and Hardy-Garcia.
The couple, both professional women in their 30s, had signed up to be not just temporary caregivers but "foster adopt" parents looking for the chance to raise a child.
When Hardy-Garcia went to pick up Sarah at the Department of Children and Family Services with a teddy bear and bottle in hand, she and Planck had no idea the little girl was on a fast track to return to her aunt and uncle.
Hardy-Garcia said the moment she saw Sarah, she fell in love with the little girl with chocolate on her face.
"My biggest fear was that she would be crying in terror, that she would be scared. But it wasn't like that at all," Hardy-Garcia said. "Sarah jumped into my arms."
When the two got home, Hardy-Garcia e-mailed photos to Planck, who was out of town on a business trip. "I cried and I cried," Planck said. "I felt so lucky."
That night, Hardy-Garcia put on a video of "Mary Poppins" for Sarah (because Sarah didn't like cartoons), and Sarah danced in the living room to "Supercallifragilisticexpialidocious."
Over the next weeks and months, Sarah flourished in the couple's care, according to reports from social workers, who noted that the child's vocabulary increased, she was eating well and she "appeared to be an active, healthy and happy girl."
Planck and Hardy-Garcia saw several things in Sarah that did worry them.
Sarah would curse and try to choke her foster parents when she got upset, the couple told social workers, reports show. Sometimes, she would place things between her legs in a way that made Planck and Hardy-Garcia worry that she might have been sexually abused.
The women said that when they raised their concerns with social workers, they were told not to worry, that Sarah would not be sent back to her relatives.
What Planck and Hardy-Garcia did not know was that while they were wondering if their concerns about Sarah were being taken seriously, court officials and attorneys at the Children's Court were working to reunite her with the aunt and uncle.
Thirteen days after Sarah was taken from the Abundis' home with bruises, court referee Joan Carney said that she was "satisfied . that the child fell on the large toy" and that she was ready to send Sarah back to her aunt, court records show.
Carney, who declined to discuss the case, changed her mind when a county attorney objected that social workers had serious concerns about the aunt.
But Frances Abundis continued to go to court to push for custody.
Sarah's court-appointed attorney also urged a swift check of the aunt to get Sarah back with her relatives, court transcripts show.
As the court proceedings dragged on for months ? there were ultimately 12 court dates between January and May ? Planck and Hardy-Garcia said, they were left in the dark.
"It would take days to find out if [a hearing] had happened and then sometimes days more to find out if anything had happened at all," Planck said. "It was maddening."
Planck and Hardy-Garcia said they pleaded with social workers to do a medical evaluation of Sarah to establish if she had indeed been abused, as they suspected.
It never happened, documents show, in part because the social worker assigned to the case said she got lost on the way to the clinic and never rescheduled.
Planck and Hardy-Garcia said they asked social workers at the county and a private foster care agency they worked with if they should contact Sarah's court-appointed attorney or go to court themselves to voice their concerns.
The couple said they were told that might only antagonize the people who would ultimately have to decide if they could adopt Sarah.
Meanwhile, the couple never heard from Josephanie Ackman, Sarah's court-appointed attorney from the Children's Law Center of Los Angeles. Ackman declined to comment.
Ackman's supervisor, Lisa Mandel, said she did not know why Ackman had not called the foster parents, although there was no requirement that she do so.
But Mandel noted that Ackman had relied on the advice of a county social worker, who apparently changed her recommendation and urged that Sarah be returned to her aunt and uncle. "This case shakes us to the core," Mandel said. "It's devastating."
Advocates across the country say foster parents are often the last people consulted about what is best for the children placed in their care.
"We hear this story every day," said Karen Jorgenson, executive director of the National Foster Parent Assn.
California lawmakers and courts have taken several steps in recent years to encourage more involvement by foster parents. And both Sanders and Judge Michael Nash, who presides over the children's court, say they welcome it.
But most regulations do not require that foster parents be notified of court dates or told how to get involved in the decision-making until much later in the process.
Nationwide, studies show that frustration over being ignored is a leading reason why foster parents decide to stop taking abused and neglected children, even as demand for foster parents remains extremely high.
Planck and Hardy-Garcia lost custody of Sarah on the morning of April 25, when the court referee ordered Sarah returned to her aunt and uncle after attorneys in the case reported that the social worker assigned to investigate had lifted her objections for reasons that documents in the case do not explain.
Later that Monday, Planck and Hardy-Garcia said, they received a call from Sarah's court-appointed attorney, ordering them to get Sarah ready to be picked up in two hours by her relatives.
The women packed Sarah's things while the little girl cried and tried to put her clothes back in her dresser.
"It was heartbreaking," Hardy-Garcia said. "We knew we were sending her back to someplace unsafe."
The couple's worst fears soon were realized.
In the months after Sarah was returned to the Abundis' home, she stopped talking, had trouble sleeping and began punching and picking at herself, case records show. Examinations by physicians in May and July found the girl had behavioral problems and abrasions on her neck, face and forehead.
But social workers assigned to the case took no action to remove Sarah again, according to the case file.
And when Sarah's aunt took her to Garfield Medical Center for treatment of a severely broken arm on the night of Oct. 10 and then took her home over the objections of medical staff, no one at the hospital called to report abuse. A subsequent state investigation concluded that hospital staff should have done so.
The next morning, the Alhambra Fire Department found Sarah dead at the Abundises' home, killed by a severe blow to her abdomen, according to the preliminary coroner's investigation.
Today, Frances and her husband, Armando Abundis, await trial on murder charges. Local child welfare officials say they are continuing to review their procedures to prevent another tragedy.
Planck and Hardy-Garcia, meanwhile, say they are haunted by what happened to the little girl they fell in love with last year.
"We're painfully aware that there is nothing that will bring Sarah back," Planck said. "But this did not have to happen."
Lucas Ciambrone 7-year-old
Died May 13, 1995
Locked in the bathroom and slowly starving, Lucas Ciambrone begged his big sister for help. "Brenda, let me out of here." "The secrets whispered between brother and sister, contained in court documents, provide a chilling glimpse into one of the worst child abuse cases in Florida history."
The autopsy proved someone killed 7-year-old Lucas Ciambrone.
There were 203 scratches, bruises and cuts, and an additional 113 scars. He had five broken ribs and weighed only 32 pounds.
"There are too many injuries here to say this is a non-homicidal manner of death," Dr. Stephen Nelson, the chief medical examiner with the 10th Circuit, testified Thursday during the first-degree murder trial of the boy's adoptive mother, Heather Ciambrone.
In Nelson's review of an autopsy performed by another doctor, Joan Wood, Nelson found Lucas died of brain trauma. He also had no fat on his body. Skin hung off his bones in some areas.
"This would indicate a very serious form of malnutrition," Nelson told jurors sitting in Courtroom B at the Manatee County Courthouse.
Lucas died May 13, 1995, after spending two days in a comatose state at Manatee Memorial Hospital and All Children's Hospital in St. Petersburg.
Prosecutors say Ciambrone, 38, starved and beat Lucas to death. They are seeking life in prison.
Defense attorneys contend Lucas was troubled and that authorities did not investigate all aspects of the case, including the child's mental and physical health.
In 1997, Ciambrone's husband, Joseph Ciambrone, was convicted of first-degree murder for his role in Lucas' death. In 2001, Heather Ciambrone pleaded no contest to the murder. But after being sentenced to 55 years in prison, she said she was misled about what length of prison time she would get. An appeals court allowed her then to change her plea to not guilty.
Hank Mallol, formerly with the Manatee County Sheriff's Office, testified Heather Ciambrone told him she took Lucas to the hospital after finding him slumped over the tub in a bathroom at the family's home on 82nd Street East in Rubonia.
The boy's ears, which were partially torn, had sustained 68 separate injuries caused by blunt force trauma, Nelson said as jurors winced at more than a dozen autopsy photos.
The doctor told the court that the type of injuries Lucas suffered typically came from punches or kicks. And the injuries to Lucas' ears could be consistent with someone picking him up by them.
On Wednesday, Lucas' older sister, Brenda Preston, testified she saw her former adoptive mother pick Lucas up by the ears and hold him four inches off the ground. Preston, now 20 and adopted by another family, said their mother would often lock Lucas in the bathroom naked and that she beat him daily - observations echoed by Lucas' younger brother, James, another of Heather Ciambrone's adopted children who lived in the family's home in 1995. James, now 16, was 4 at the time.
Lucas' older sister, Lauren Ciambrone, Joseph Ciambrone's biological daughter, also testified to the abuse.
Crying on the stand, Lauren Ciambrone recalled visiting Heather and her father at their home every other weekend. She said she never watched her dad do anything to stop his wife from hurting Lucas or locking him in the bathroom.
Other times, when locked in his bedroom, Lucas would scream and bang on the wall, Lauren Ciambrone testified. During cross-examination, defense attorney Adam Tebrugge asked her if Lucas used his head to bang the wall.
"It sounded like it was something hard, yes," she replied.
In more cross-examination, Lauren Ciambrone said Lucas bit his mother, ran away from home and kicked the family's dog, causing its death.
After testimony, she stood in the hallway outside the courtroom, buried her head in another woman's chest and wept loudly.
Wanda Dugan, a stay-at-home mom who lived across the street from the Ciambrones in north Manatee County, also took the stand and said she remembered watching Lucas walk in circles in the family's front yard.
When Dugan asked Heather Ciambrone why he did that, she responded "he defecated and urinated in the house like an animal and was going to be treated like a dog."
Ciambrone made it clear she did not like Lucas, Dugan testified.
Dugan also recalled Ciambrone telling her about how Lucas smeared feces on his mattress and in holes in the walls.
"She said she hated him and was going to kill him in her fits of anger," Dugan said.
At one point, Dugan said, Ciambrone admitted she'd locked Lucas in the bathroom because he defecated again. Ciambrone said she was going to keep him there for a week, Dugan said.
In a recorded conversation between Heather Ciambrone and sheriff's detectives, Ciambrone admitted she fed Lucas in the bathroom out of a plastic bucket. She said he could not have glass bowls because he frequently threw fits.
__________
The Ciambrones adopted Lucas after his mother was murdered. Lucas suffered from behavioral problems that often caused him to fly into rages.
A caseworker, a doctor and three other foster parents raised concerns about the Ciambrones' treatment of the boy, but they were allowed to adopt him.
After Lucas' death, investigators found the child was kept locked away in a bathroom and had no contact with others. He had 200 bruises and scratches on his arm and five of his ribs had been broken longer than six months.
The child's death prompted a new round of changes of Florida's child protection system after state officials determined that Lucas should never have been placed in the Ciambrone home nor should the couple have been allowed to adopt him.
THANK GOD!!! I AM VERY PLEASED WITH TEH VERDICT THAT MY STEP MOTHER HAS RECEIVED! Lauren Ciambrone
Shawntee Ford 2-year-old
In Pittsburgh 1992, a man with a criminal record beat his 2-year-old daughter, Shawntee Ford, to death a month after a judge turned her over to him.
Vanessa Ingram
The girl who never had a chance -April 28, 2004
VENICE - The empty, shotgun-style house at 218 Kerr St. is still without electricity or running water.
In its shabby interior two and a half years ago, Jaki Ingram delivered a full-term baby girl into a toilet.
"The baby just dropped out," she told a paramedic, who needed a flashlight to find his way to where the newborn had suffocated.
Police spotlights illuminated the house, which reeked of human waste, as neighbors watched from the street. The scene marked the end of Ingram's five years of involvement with the Illinois Department of Children and Family Services.
But it was the beginning for Ingram's 5-year-old son, Emmit. For most of his life, his mother dragged him from house to house, staying with relatives or friends.
When police finally seized Emmit after his newborn sister's death, he was still in diapers and had not learned to talk. Authorities immediately placed him in foster care.
More than a year later, a 35-page report by the Office of the Inspector General for the DCFS outlined in precise detail how a supervisor and a caseworker failed to provide meaningful help to the mentally ill and homeless mother and her son.
Emmit was "virtually forgotten" by child protection workers who did not attempt to place the boy in protective custody, the report stated.
"The department failed Emmit Ingram during the first five years of his life," a state child death investigator's report stated.
Though such reports are usually kept confidential and unavailable to the public, this rare look into how DCFS workers mishandled a case became possible after former East St. Louis office supervisor Lorene Floyd challenged her 29-day suspension.
The detailed document, usually not available even to DCFS officials, became a public record after authorities entered it into evidence during Floyd's unsuccessful appeal of her suspension before the Illinois Civil Service Commission.
The report and interviews with Ingram's friends and relatives revealed a mentally handicapped woman desperate to escape an existence that sometimes caused her to publicly scream, cry and pull her hair out.
The only thing that soothed her, according to those close to her, was the rocking of a public bus.
With an IQ of 58, Ingram was ill-prepared to care for herself, much less her children, friends and relatives said.
So she rode the bus -- sometimes all day. It didn't matter where. In a bus, Ingram felt protected, her friends said. On the street, she devised her own mental armor -- angry, violent outbursts that sometimes landed her in jail.
In November 1998, the state removed Ingram's oldest son, Shaquille, and placed him in a foster home. Emmit, who was born in January 1999, was allowed to stay with his mother, even though hospital officials were reluctant to release him to her.
In August 1999, state psychologist Dr. Bernice Collins described Ingram as childlike and sincere, even if her stories seemed unbelievable. Did she really cut herself all over with a knife? Police would later ask, had she really delivered two other children into a toilet, one while she lived in Milwaukee?
Collins warned that Ingram should not be left alone with children. However, because Shaquille had been placed in foster care, the psychologist assumed that Emmit had, too, according to the inspector general's report.
Instead, the little boy and his mother wandered Venice's dangerous streets, staying with friends wherever they could. On days when her state aid check arrived, men would make her buy them beer, then steal the rest of her money, friends said.
Collins learned that even though Ingram loved her children, she beat them, drugged them with cough syrup to put them to sleep, and ignored them.
"This young mother does not have minimal skills necessary to provide adequate parenting," Collins wrote.
When child welfare workers took Shaquille, then 3, into state custody in 1998, a few months before Emmit's birth, Ingram had threatened a DCFS caseworker.
"She began jumping up and down and tearing her hair out. She got down on all fours and banged her head against the television set," the report stated.
The DCFS accused supervisor Floyd, of Swansea, of falsifying a record, ignoring her own supervisor, and failing to properly assess the Ingram case. It later dropped the falsifying charge but upheld the suspension.
The agency also suspended caseworker Cheri McCottrell-Wade, of Fairview Heights, for 29 days -- the maximum suspension allowed without involving a more complicated disciplinary process. It was her sixth suspension, according to testimony during Floyd's appeal hearing.
Floyd declined to comment, other than to say, "If one person was disciplined, we all should have been disciplined." McCottrell-Wade declined to comment.
During the five years of DCFS' involvement with Ingram, the case was riddled with mistakes and neglect, according to the 35-page internal report.
"The case had inappropriate actions and failures to act, but was mainly plagued by the inactions," the report concluded.
For example, it said caseworkers failed to place Emmit in a special program for delayed children under 3. When they finally got him in similar classes for older children, he attended only one day. The program dropped him after he missed 38 consecutive sessions.
McCottrell-Wade testified during Floyd's hearing that Ingram, despite her mental disabilities, showed her competency to care for Emmit because she knew when and where to catch a bus.
But Frances White, of Madison, Shaquille's foster mother, said anybody who knew Ingram knew she got on the bus when she felt particularly bad and just rode.
During her civil service hearing, Floyd told Judge Andrew Barris she believed Ingram provided adequate care for Emmit. Barris challenged Floyd's assertion that there was "nothing" she could have done to prevent Ingram from delivering her baby into a toilet.
When asked why she hadn't arranged for Ingram to give birth in a hospital, Floyd said she didn't know Ingram was pregnant because "she always looked pregnant."
Without ever having received prenatal care, Ingram delivered the baby girl at 8:20 p.m. on April 28, 2004.
Ingram told police she saw the full-term, 5-pound, 5-ounce infant "kicking in the water," but did nothing to help her.
A police report described conditions inside the house as "horrendous." The family brought in buckets of water from a neighbor's for drinking and to flush the toilet.
A few months earlier, according to her notes, caseworker McCottrell-Wade had visited the same house on Kerr Street and saw no problems.
Four days after giving birth, police arrested Ingram and charged her with first-degree murder. In September 2005, a judge found her incompetent to stand trial and sent her to the Alton Mental Health Center until 2024.
Before her arrest, Illinois State Police found Ingram wandering along a Venice street carrying a shopping bag that contained only beer. They asked whether she was going to make funeral arrangements. Ingram agreed and later gave the little girl born into a toilet an identity.
She chose the name of her favorite bus driver -- Vanessa.
By George Pawlawczyk and Beth Hundsdorfer
News-Democrat
Rebecca Jeanne Riley 4-year-old
April 11,2002 - Dec.13,2006
Everyone Failed Rebecca Her last seven days -REBECCA'S AGONY
On Dec. 13, 4-year-old Rebecca Riley died a slow and painful death of a prescription drug overdose at her home in Hull.
This week her parents, Michael and Carolyn Riley, were charged with first-degree murder. Prosecutors say the overdose was deliberate.
This account of the last week of her short life is based on interviews, court statements and public records, particularly the affidavit filed by State Trooper Anna Brookes in her application for an arrest warrant.
By ELENI HIMARAS The Patriot Ledger
WEDNESDAY, DEC. 7
Carolyn Riley took Rebecca to Tufts New England Medical Center to see Dr. Kayoko Kifuji, the child psychiatrist who had been treating her for almost two years for bipolar disorder.
The doctor noted that Rebecca was "doing really well." Her father, Michael, had just moved back in with the family in Hull and her mother thought that was good for the children.
Kifuji said if she continued to show progress, she would reduce the amount of clonidine, a powerful psychiatric drug, she was taking.
Later that day, a prescription in her name for 35 clonidine tablets, a 10-day supply, was filled at Nantasket Pharmacy in Hull.
THURSDAY, DEC. 8
This was the last day Rebecca appeared healthy. Her uncle's girlfriend, Kelly Williams, who lived with the family, said she didn't see her eat anything for the next four days.
FRIDAY, DEC. 9
Rebecca didn't feel well. Her father wasn't home and she slept most of the day. She woke around 2 p.m. and wandered into the kitchen.
She played with a bowl of cereal, but didn't eat much, if anything. Williams gave her a drink of Sunny D fruit drink.
That night she started a raspy, whooping cough that alarmed Williams and her boyfriend, James McGonnell.
SATURDAY, DEC. 10
Sometime in the afternoon, Rebecca curled up in Williams' lap. She was hot. Sweat had dampened her hair and soaked her clothing. Williams changed her into dry clothes.
A little later, her mother brought her a coffee mug holding an inch of cough syrup, many times the recommended children's dose.
Rebecca spit it out onto her uncle in a coughing fit. Her mother gave her Tylenol.
Rebecca began wandering aimlessly around the house, opening and closing the refrigerator door. The cough persisted throughout the night and she became extremely congested. She woke up several times.
SUNDAY, DEC. 11
Morning
Rebecca woke up with a slight temperature and her mother gave her three children's Tylenol.
Despite Rebecca's illness, her father insisted taking her to an appointment at the Social Security office in Weymouth.
She vomited at the office. Her mother rescheduled the appointment and the family went to Wal-Mart. Rebecca waited in the car with her father while her mother went in to buy Rebecca a Christmas outfit, some Pedialyte and a plastic bowl for her to vomit into.
Rebecca threw up water, phlegm speckled with Depakote, another psychiatric drug, all over the car.
Michael Riley stormed into the house when they returned home, screaming and swearing. He turned his anger towards Carolyn screaming, "Your daughter (expletive) threw up in my car!"
He berated the little girl for embarrassing the family at the appointment.
By now Rebecca was wearing the new outfit from Wal-Mart, a deep green velvet dress with a wide white collar. She posed with her mother for a snapshot.
Afternoon
Rebecca shuffled around the house, looking lost. Her mother told Williams that she had made an appointment with Rebecca's pediatrician for the following day, but that was a lie.
The little girl threw up five times that day and could not eat. At some point she took some children's Motrin, threw up again and told her mother she was feeling better. She still couldn't drink the Pedialyte her mother tried to give her, but managed to drink some water.
Her mother said she just had a cold.
MONDAY, DEC. 12
Morning
She felt a little better and managed to eat some of a sandwich. Her coughing had quieted, but she was increasingly incoherent.
She didn't respond to people calling her name. She spent most of the day watching television in her parents room, regularly asking for "Mommy." When her father came home, he angrily sent her to her own room.
Every time she came out, she was scolded and sent back to her room. She repeatedly returned as if she had never heard him.
Afternoon and evening
Rebecca's uncle, James McGonnell, and Williams were becoming agitated. They had seen the Rileys neglect their children's medical needs before.
Around 4 p.m., McGonnell stormed into their bedroom.
"If you won't bring her to the hospital, then I'll beat you so the ambulance will come and take both of you!" he yelled. He grabbed Riley by the shirt, but stopped short of hitting him.
Instead, he smashed a wall shelf and threw it down the hall. Her parents assured him she had an appointment with the doctor the next day, another lie.
Night
While her parents were out running errands, Rebecca was restless, calling out for her mother. When Williams told her where her mother had gone, she just stared back, without understanding. She was fidgety, her skin cool and sweaty.
She became unresponsive, even when Williams stood in front of her and screamed her name. When she picked her up, she was stiff.
The Rileys returned after 10 p.m. and dismissed Williams' concern, assuring her they would take Rebecca to the doctor. She was given clonidine and cold medicine and sent to bed.
McGonnell and Williams lamented that they felt they couldn't do anything for Rebecca because she wasn't their child, even though they had been alone with the girl for several hours that evening.
Throughout the night Rebecca coughed uncontrollably. She went into her parents room at least five times and asked to sleep in their bed. Her father refused her each time.
"It got really annoying!" Riley told police the next day. "Every time she woke up, Jimmy (McGonnell) came pounding on the door."
TUESDAY, DEC. 13
Early morning
Just before 1 a.m., McGonnell was awakened by a telephone call. He heard Rebecca struggling to breathe, "gurgling like something was stuck in her throat."
He went into the room where Rebecca was sleeping with her older sister, Kaitlynne, wiped some vomit off her face and ran to her parent's bedroom to tell them she needed help. Carolyn Riley carried Rebecca into bed with her.
She gave her more Tylenol Cough and Runny Nose and more clonidine, but as she lay on her mother's chest Rebecca could not stop coughing.
Her mother said she got her a blanket and placed her on the floor with a sweatshirt for a pillow. Within 20 minutes, she quieted down. As her dad fell asleep, he heard her snore.
The pathologist who performed Rebecca's autopsy said the noise was more likely "agonal respirations" - a death rattle.
6:36 a.m.
The alarm went off but the Rileys were exhausted. They hit the snooze button several times. When Carolyn Riley finally got up, she stepped over Rebecca to wake her 11-year-old son, Gerard.
She came back to the room and bent down to wake Rebecca. Her skin felt cool and rubbery and a frothy, reddish bodily fluid covered her face.
Riley screamed for her husband. He felt his little girl and knew at a touch that she was dead. They both knew child cardio-pulmonary resuscitation, but did not perform it.
At 6:36 a.m., Michael Riley called 911 and said, "I need an ambulance to 90 Lynn Ave. My daughter passed away in the night." The call lasted 23 seconds.
Investigators found the body of a tiny girl with chocolate brown eyes and hair lying on top of magazines, papers, clothing and a stuffed brown bear. A policeman covered her with a blanket.
Rebecca was wearing only a pink diaper and gold pierced stud earrings with colored stones. She had bruises on her inner thighs, one on her outer thigh and several red marks on her body. Inside her right bicep was thumbprint, as if an adult had grabbed her arm.
As police questioned Michael Riley, he became increasingly agitated at them for not allowing him to give his two surviving children medication to calm them down. The officers said the children were playing quietly, trading toys for play money. Riley yelled at them to "calm down!" "knock it off!" and "stop being loud!"
Investigators found seven clonidine tablets in the house. According to Rebecca's medical records, there should have been at least 75 left.
3-year-old boy failed by those who should have protected him
In his short life, Trustin Blue suffered a list of injuries that reads like a passage from a child-abuse textbook on worst cases.
Broken bones: A finger. A foot. A leg.
Head injuries: A bleeding ear. Brain damage.
Sexual abuse: A bleeding penis. A torn anus.
Six days after he was beaten for the last time, the 3-year-old boy's body was placed in a tiny casket on a cold, clear January morning, carried into the Vine Street Cemetery and buried in the hard winter earth.
Trustin is one of seven children since 2003 who have died after the Hamilton County Department of Job and Family Services was charged with either protecting them or checking out abuse complaints.
An Enquirer review of more than 1,620 pages of Trustin's caseworker, medical and court records gives rare insight into a social services system that operates almost completely in secret. It's supposed to keep kids safe. Yet, in this instance, key adults and professionals who might have helped Trustin failed him.
His mother left him with a boyfriend she knew terrified the boy. His social workers failed to tell judges and prosecutors about threats to his safety. A Cincinnati police detective investigated Trustin's broken bones and injuries to his penis but closed the case after 10 months, saying there was too little evidence to bring criminal charges.
Ultimately, police say, the boy was killed by Lamont Hunter, the boyfriend of Trustin's mother. He's in jail, charged with aggravated murder and rape, felonious assault and child endangering. He goes to trial June 11.
Prosecutors want the death sentence.
Relatives say Trustin was so afraid of Hunter that he'd wet himself when the man was around.
"He felt terrible, horrible fear, bullied, helpless and terrified," said Loyce Page, Trustin's step-grandmother. "He was basically abused his whole life. This was physical abuse by Lamont, but the system abused him just as much."
She and other family members suspected Trustin was being abused but felt helpless proving it.
Rick Roberts, head of Job and Family Services, said Hunter and Trustin's mother are responsible for the boy's death.
"This system will never be foolproof because it involves human behavior," Roberts said in a prepared one-paragraph statement. "We can't be with the children and the families 24 hours a day. Our hearts ache for Trustin and any other child we have contact with who becomes the victim of an abuser."
This is the story of Trustin Roberto Blue, a boy who spent much of his life living in fear of his next beating.
A CALL FOR HELP
The woman calling 911 was breathless and panicked.
"Oh, my God, please hurry up.
"Oh, my son ain't breathing, my son," said Trustin's mother, Luzmilda Blue, 31.
"He hit his head. ... His stomach's real big. Oh, God. Please.
"Please, send an ambulance," the Carthage woman begged.
Police, coroner and social service records show Trustin was sexually molested and severely beaten on the morning of Jan. 19, 2006. He died the next day at Cincinnati Children's Hospital Medical Center of a head injury.
Trustin was buried on Jan. 25, less than a week after Blue's 911 call.
At his 10 a.m. visitation at the Inspirational Baptist Church in Springfield Township, tears flowed.
Friends and family tucked Trustin's beloved stuffed "Mo Mo" (Elmo) doll and miniature trucks and cars into the casket with him.
Trustin's cousin and occasional baby-sitter, Amber White, said she became hysterical when they closed the lid of his casket because he hated the dark and was afraid of monsters.
Still, White recalled, "The sun was shining that day like he was telling us he was going to be OK."
Trustin's grandfather, B.A. Blue, recently drove to a remote corner of the cemetery where Trustin is buried.
A flat, bronze grave marker, etched with a teddy bear, gleamed in the sun.
"I'll talk to you because I want justice for Trustin," he said, his bitterness still strong all these months later. "I don't want this to happen to another child."
B.A. Blue, 52, of North College Hill, blames both his daughter and Hunter for killing Trustin. They aren't the only ones, he said.
"I blame the police department," he said. "I blame Hamilton County Job and Family Services. They knew something was wrong, yet they gave him back (to his mother) without follow-up. They just wanted to close the case and be done with it."
Luzmilda Blue declined repeated interview requests for this story.
Hunter's lawyer said his client did not hurt Trustin. "Somebody else did these things," Clyde Bennett said. He cited the many other people who were involved with the boy.
BORN INTO A TROUBLED FAMILY
Trustin Blue was born Sept. 12, 2002, into a family troubled long before he arrived.
Luzmilda Blue was 26, a single mother of two sons, Tyree Blue, 8, and Terrell Blue, 5, by two different fathers.
She had a history of depression, attempting suicide twice in 1997 by overdosing on pills and slicing her wrists. She once wished she had a gun so she could kill herself and her children.
The Hamilton County Department of Job and Family Services already was involved with Blue by the time Trustin was born.
For a long time, Blue said Terrell's father, Tyrone Thompson, also fathered Trustin, but DNA tests debunked that. Blue never hinted who else might be the father, Page said.
Another baby didn't make things easier.
In November 2002, when Trustin was 2 months old, his mother called a Job and Family Services emergency phone line, saying she "might do something she'll regret." She was hospitalized for depression and talked about suicide.
Yet social workers decided her children were not in danger.
Blue met Hunter in December 2003 or January 2004.
Hunter, 38, wasn't a prize. He was divorced, had a record with 10 arrests and spent three years in federal prison for selling marijuana.
"He was known by everybody as a bum, a woman beater, a drunk and a crack head," Page said.
Still, Blue allowed Hunter into her bed, the only male figure in the lives of three little boys.
TRUSTIN SUFFERS INJURIES
The injuries came fast.
Trustin's foot was broken in three places after he spent time alone with Hunter in January 2004.
Hunter told Blue he tripped down the steps with Trustin. Cincinnati Children's Hospital Medical Center doctors treated the injuries as an accident and sent Trustin home.
In May, Blue called the Northside Clinic, a public health clinic for the poor. She said Trustin cries and appears scared around her boyfriend and asked for advice.
What advice was offered, if any, isn't known.
The call should have been a red flag.
White, the cousin, said Trustin cried and vomited when Hunter came to pick up the boy from her Colerain Township apartment on June 8, 2004.
The next day, Blue left home about 8:30 a.m. to run errands, leaving Trustin, Terrell and Hunter's 9-year-old daughter with Hunter. Tyree was visiting his father in South Carolina.
Dried blood caked Trustin's scalp when she returned two hours later. Blood dripped from his ear and penis.
Hunter, once again, said he tripped down the stairs with Trustin.
Blue took Trustin to the clinic. Paramedics rushed him to Children's Hospital.
Doctors were suspicious. Trustin had breaks that were healing in his right hand, left foot and leg.
The case was referred to The Mayerson Center for Safe and Healthy Children, a Cincinnati Children's Hospital-based team of doctors, social workers and police, that responds to suspected child abuse cases. He was one of 1,519 children seen at the center in 2004.
Cincinnati Police Detective Sharon Berger, in her third year working at the center, was assigned Trustin's case.
The hospital released Trustin the next day, but Job and Family Services wouldn't let him or Terrell go home. Blue gave the agency custody of Trustin and Terrell and the boys were put in the care of relatives. Tyree remained with his father in South Carolina. As social workers opened another file and police got involved, the agency placed the boys with Blue's sister, Latoya Gresham.
The Hamilton County Prosecutor's Office asked a Juvenile Court magistrate on July 6, 2004, to declare Trustin and Terrell abused, which gives the court power to take the children and demand changes be made at home.
HUNTER HIT WITH ORDER
The next day, Magistrate Scheherazade Washington issued a restraining order against Hunter, ordering him not to have contact with the children.
The case passed from social worker to social worker - five in all - before landing with Jacqueline Dorn in October 2004.
Dorn, a social worker with a master's degree, started with Job and Family Services in March 2001. She handled between 17 and 20 cases, one of them Trustin and Terrell's, in the second half of 2004.
Her supervisor, Pamela Minter, had been with the agency 20 years.
Blue had been diagnosed with mental illness that August. A court-ordered evaluation said she didn't respond properly to problems and disregarded rules and other people's problems.
Although Blue was ordered to keep Hunter away from her children, she got pregnant by him at that time. She told Dorn she planned to stay with him.
She told social workers she didn't believe that Hunter hurt Trustin. Perhaps, he really fell. Maybe Hunter's 9-year-old daughter was playing too roughly. Hunter didn't do it, Blue insisted.
Her sister told caseworkers that Blue was still living with Hunter and that he answered the phone when family members called.
Dorn noted that in her file, but she didn't tell prosecutors or court officials that information although she is supposed to act as their eyes and ears in abuse cases.
Blue was admitted to a 29-day treatment program in September and diagnosed with marijuana dependency and depression.
On Oct. 22, 2004, the magistrate found the children were abused and issued a second order, telling Hunter to stay away from the children. That order, like the earlier one, had no expiration date.
GETTING THE KIDS BACK
Dorn developed a plan for Blue to get her kids back. Blue had to get counseling and take parenting classes. If she did, she would get her sons back by June 2005.
As Christmas approached, the agency placed the children with Blue's cousin, Amber White, and White's mother, Wilma Forte.
In an assessment dated Feb. 11, Dorn said Blue "appears to be having contact and a continued relationship with Mr. Hunter even though he is believed to be the alleged perpetrator in the case."
Yet Dorn's judgment that the information wasn't important got her in trouble later with Job and Family Services when the agency investigated her role in Trustin's death.
Any contact was a violation of the restraining order and could put Hunter in jail for 30 days.
As Blue's pregnancy progressed, she completed treatment and attended parenting classes. The magistrate allowed her to see her boys unsupervised on weekends.
When Blue gave birth to Trinity on April 8, 2005, she was allowed to bring the baby home although her sons remained with their cousin.
Relatives were concerned about the boys' safety.
White told Dorn that Trustin didn't want to visit his mother and was throwing up. She said she believed Hunter was around the children during visits home and Trustin was afraid.
"There is some concern related to Trustin," Dorn wrote in May 2005. "It was reported that he has since seen Lamont Hunter over at Luzmilda's and was very upset."
The magistrate, not seeing those notes, allowed Trustin and Terrell to return home, with continued supervision by social workers.
In July, Tyree returned from South Carolina, leaving Blue to care for four children.
Dorn knew Hunter was still around. "Luzmilda continues leaving the children in Lamont Hunter's care," her July case notes state.
Prosecutors say she never told them or the magistrate about Hunter's continued access to Trustin. The magistrate ended the county intervention with the Blue family in August 2005.
Loyce Page, the step-grandmother, said she opposed giving the children back to Blue.
"I knew Lamont was in the picture. I knew her parenting skills were not all there, I knew her judgment was not all there, her stability was not all there," Page said. "I think she loved her kids, but I think she loved Lamont more."
Blue relied on her cousins to baby-sit Trustin. The two women said they devised any excuse to keep him with them, where they knew he was safe. They took him to St. Louis and Chicago on vacations and often kept him overnight.
Before Dorn closed the case, Blue told her that Hunter was helping raise Trinity, but did not live with her and was never left in charge of the children.
VIOLENT INJURIES MAR MORNING
On Jan. 19, 2006, Blue left the children with Hunter when she went to work before dawn at a Speedway around the corner from their West 68th Street house.
Later, the older boys went to school, leaving Hunter with Trustin and Trinity.
Blue called home about 10:45 a.m., Trustin's godmother, Durrell Bush, said in early 2006. Trustin was watching "Jurassic Park," one of his favorite movies, and everything seemed fine.
Hunter called Blue 15 minutes later. His call sent her scrambling for home.
Blue found Trustin limp and having trouble breathing, Hunter later told doctors. He carried Trustin to a shower and splashed water on the boy's face.
Twenty-one minutes later, Blue called 911.
For the second time in his life, paramedics rushed Trustin to Children's Hospital.
A medical report shows Trustin had a head injury, retinal hemorrhaging and an injury in the anus, which was still bleeding during an exam. Machines kept him alive.
Hunter's story was familiar: Trustin fell down the steps.
"The history we have been given would not account for the injuries we are finding," doctors noted. They monitored Trustin overnight and through the next day.
Brain scans showed little activity.
At 4:01 p.m. on Jan. 20, 2006, Dr. Neil Kooy disconnected the life-support machines and pronounced Trustin dead. His liver, kidneys and part of his spleen were donated to other children.
Trustin was shaken, beaten to death and raped "with some sort of sharp object," the hospital report said.
In an autopsy two days later, Dr. Gretel C. Stephens officially determined what the family already knew: Trustin's death was a homicide. He died of blunt trauma to the head and shaking.
Hamilton County Coroner Dr. O'dell Owens said the brain injury was fatal. There was clear sexual abuse, he said.
Police arrested Hunter.
BLAME SPREAD AROUND
B.A. Blue said Trustin should still be alive. He blames Hunter and hopes a jury gives him the death penalty. "In my opinion, she (Blue) should be charged with murder, too," he said.
"The police department dropped the ball, child protective services dropped the ball and now a 3-year-old is dead," B.A. Blue said.
Hamilton County Prosecutor Joe Deters said the failures run through child welfare, court and police agencies.
"Divide up the pie of blame and 95 percent goes to the guy who beat to death the child, Lamont Hunter," Deters said. "Four percent goes to mom for letting (Hunter) around the child. The last one percent goes to the government for failing to protect him."
Cincinnati police won't discuss the case because criminal charges are pending.
Detective Berger's case notes in the 10 months the 2004 case was open show that she spoke with Blue, who denied Hunter harmed Trustin. The notes show that Hunter wouldn't talk with Berger and that doctors told her the boy's injuries occurred while Hunter took care of him.
Berger could have filed charges but did not. "I do not have any evidence to go forward," she wrote.
A grand jury wasn't as hesitant as Berger. It indicted Hunter last year for the 2004 abuse.
Berger's personnel file makes no mention of Trustin. One performance review said she needs little supervision and makes good decisions.
Deters doesn't see it that way.
Not filing charges was the wrong decision, he said. He believes there was enough evidence. "I wish we had come down hard in 2004," he said. "We might not have a death penalty case today."
Berger's supervisor would not allow her to talk about the case because it is pending.
A LIVING HELL
Job and Family Services knew Hunter was still in Trustin's life and didn't tell prosecutors, Deters said. "Our assistants would never have agreed to reunification knowing Lamont Hunter was still there," he said.
Deters, who has a 3-year-old son, said the case breaks his heart, noting Trustin "was in a living hell."
Moira Weir, assistant director of Job and Family Services, said the agency is required by law to reunite children with their families.
Caseworkers must balance a parent's rights against the agency's right to intrude. "The goal is to make sure children are safe," she said. "The whole child welfare system is about keeping families intact. No matter what, kids want to go back home. That's their parent, and they love them no matter what you and I might think."
As with all deaths to children in their care, the agency reviewed Trustin's case, Weir said.
As a result, supervisors now get more training.
In doing the review, the agency found Dorn and Minter did not properly respond to the information they had about the family. "I think there was a lapse in judgment in some of the decision making," Weir said.
Weir would not comment further, but provided Dorn and Minter's personnel files as The Enquirer requested.
As the agency's review continued, Dorn quit.
An exit performance appraisal says: "She had the responsibility. for a case where a mother's capacity to protect her children was not accurately assessed thus leaving a young child vulnerable to abuse which resulted in the child's death."
Dorn declined an interview request, saying only: "I know I am not a bad person. I wouldn't have sent him back if I knew (Hunter) was going to be in the house."
Minter was suspended five days for gross misconduct and neglect of duty. She came back from suspension, but resigned in November.
Minter declined an interview. "I've started a new chapter and it does not include child services."
Weir said blame must be placed on Blue and Hunter no matter what the caseworkers did or did not do.
"Parents have a responsibility to protect their children," she said. "No child protection agency can guarantee perfect safety."
After Trustin's death, prosecutors filed a complaint with Juvenile Court to take custody of Trustin's brothers and sister, who are now all being cared for by relatives.
Blue has supervised visitation rights with her three surviving children.
At the Hamilton County Coroner's Office, the motto is, "We speak for the dead and educate the living."
Owens sat recently with Trustin's autopsy report in front of him. In slow, measured words, he shared what he believes Trustin would say now if he could.
"Give me justice, give me peace. And give me a legacy by not allowing this to happen to another child."
How this was done
Information is this report is culled from more than 1,620 pages of records from the Hamilton County Department of Job and Family Services. They include Trustin Blue's medical records and autopsy report, documents for all Job and Family Services intervention with the family and details about Luzmilda Blue's mental health.
The Enquirer obtained the records from a person upset about how the child's case was handled. The agency is not required to make the information public and cites confidentiality when not responding to questions.
This report also is based on 181 pages of court records and 17 interviews with officials and family members.
Luzmilda Blue and her lawyer, Barry Levy, declined numerous requests to speak about Trustin's death. Hunter's family also declined to speak to The Enquirer.
The Enquirer also reviewed the personnel files of Cincinnati Police Detective Sharon Berger and Job and Family Service workers Jacqueline Dorn and Pamela Minter.
Trustin's grandfather, B.A. Blue of North College Hill shows a program from Trustin's funeral. He says Trustin's death could have been prevented. "I want justice for Trustin. I don't want this to happen to another child."
Sanajah Walton 4-month-old
Died: Sept. 23, 2003
Avondale
Age at death: 4 months
Cause of death: Head injury
Job and Family Services intervention: The agency opened its case on the family in August 2001 before Sanajah was born after an older sibling was abused by Fred Williams, their mother's boyfriend. In that instance, the agency took the child away. After the mother got help, the agency returned the child to her care in October 2002. At the time, caseworkers noted the mother now was engaged to "Anthony Johnson," a man who seemed loving and supportive. Sanajah was born in June 2003. Fred Williams violently shook her on Sept. 23, 2003, leading to her death. After her death, the agency learned Fred Williams and Anthony Johnson were the same man. Williams is Sanajah's biological father.
Criminal case: Williams, 33, of Avondale was convicted of involuntary manslaughter and is serving a 10-year prison sentence.
Lattie McGgee 4-year-old
Where were the public servants - the social workers? Where were they?
One hot summer day in Chicago police received a call that a four-year-old boy lay unconscious. In reality, Lattie McGee was already dead. A judge would later say Lattie's death was "the most heinous, brutally sadistic torture and murder he'd ever seen." Lattie and his older brother, Cornelius Abraham, were tortured by their mother's boyfriend, Johnny Campbell. Campbell decided Lattie was effeminate because of his high pitched voice. He would beat Lattie with fists and sticks, burn him with cigarettes and a clothes iron, dunk him in scalding water, and repeatedly stick him with sewing needles. The cruelty didn't end there. At night, Campbell would leave Lattie and Cornelius hanging upside down on a rod in a darkened closet. The night before Lattie died, Campbell stuffed a rag in the little boy's mouth, and taped his eyes shut with potato peels. He then hung Lattie in the closet. Morning came, and Lattie's mother didn't check on her son. Instead, she watched television. When Campbell decided to take Lattie down from the rod, he was barely alive. He begged for water. Campbell became angry that Lattie wouldn't get it for himself, and slugged him in the ear. Lattie's broken and battered body that only weighed 26 pounds, collapsed and died.
Somehow, Cornelius Abraham survived the horrible torture. He testified in court against his mother, and her boyfriend, who are now in prison for the rest of their lives. Read Cornelius's amazing story.
Jonathan Carey 13-year-old
Boy stops breathing after being restrained, police say, but care workers drive on to get beverages and buy video game.
COLONIE -A 13-year-old boy with autism died after police say two care workers for the disabled drove him around for 90 minutes -- running errands, buying beverages and shopping -- when he stopped breathing in their van.
The men, one of whom allegedly used an improper physical restraint on the boy, were both charged with manslaughter.
Colonie Police said the workers did not seek or offer medical help during the Thursday drive. Instead, the employees of the O.D. Heck Developmental Center in Niskayuna allegedly stopped to buy beverages, then a computer game and then dropped the game off at one man's home.
Edwin Tirado, 35, of 1634 6th Ave., Schenectady, and Nadeem Mall, 32, of 9 Plaske Drive, Schenectady, only reported the boy needed medical attention once they finally returned to the O.D. Heck Center where the child, who was also mentally retarded, lived, police said.
The child, identified by police as Jonathan Carey, had been with the Niskayuna center since his parents moved him from a Dutchess County facility they believed had abused him.
"We are devastated," sobbed Mike Carey as he and his wife, Lisa, waited for an airplane to bring them home. "He was such a special human being."
The Glenmont couple was on a long-awaited vacation together, having left their younger son with friends. It was to be a respite from the constant advocacy for Jonathan.
"We can't believe it," they sobbed from the St. Thomas airport in the Virgin Islands. "We are in total shock."
The accused O.D. Heck employees are being held in Albany County jail without bail.
Police said Mall was driving a van to take Jonathan Carey and a 14-year-old client, whose identity hasn't been made public, from O.D. Heck to Crossgates Mall, Colonie Police Chief Steven Heider said in a Friday news conference.
Along the drive, Mall stopped for cash from an ATM and when he returned to the van, according to Heider, Tirado had the boy in the illegal hold. "The two adults rendered no aid and they did not return to O.D. Heck for an hour and a half," Heider said.
Efforts were made to revive the boy at the center, and he was taken to St. Claire's Hospital in Schenectady, where he was pronounced dead. Police cannot say the boy died in the van because a person is not ruled dead until pronounced so by a hospital or medical examiner, the chief said. An autopsy is set for today.
"The 13-year-old succumbed to what we're alleging were improper and wrongful holds placed on him," Heider said.
Niskayuna Police were called first, but their investigation indicated the boy had been suffocated while being driven around Colonie, he said. Police said the 14-year-old client is verbal and was able to give them a description of the events.
"The bottom line is the Niskayuna police and the first responders did a fantastic job here in being able to pick apart their story," said Albany County District Attorney David Soares. "You couldn't ask for anything better."
Soares said the case will be put to a grand jury for indictment as soon as results of the autopsy are received. Although current information supports the charges of manslaughter, Soares said, he wouldn't rule out the possibility of increased charges.
"It's too early to tell," he said. "At this point in time, my thoughts are with the Carey family."
The state Office of Mental Retardation and Developmental Disabilities, which oversees the center, issued a statement Friday expressing sadness over the boy's death.
"Officials have been and will continue to work closely with law enforcement as they piece together what happened," the statement said, adding the agency provides "intensive staff training, monitoring and follow-up of any use of behavioral interventions and, given the current situation, these protocols will once again be reviewed."
Spokeswoman Deborah Sturm Rausch said she was not sure if she could find information about what Mall and Tirado's exact job titles were, or whether they had to be, or were, licensed.
Tirado, who had worked at the agency for six years, was the person restraining the boy but Mall had an equal responsibility for failing to provide or get medical assistance, Heider said. He declined to specify what hold was used but said the boy suffocated.
A woman answering the door with an infant at Mall's Schenectady home declined to comment. There was no answer when a reporter approached Tirado's home.
Since 2004, the Carey family has fought for legislation to force state agencies to disclose information they said could prove abuse of patients like their son. In October that year, Mike said he found Jonathan, then 11, naked, covered in bruises and laying in his own urine in the Anderson School in Dutchess County. The father had popped in unexpectedly to visit his son and took him home the same day.
The Careys said they never knew what their son endured because Jonathan was nonverbal and couldn't tell them himself. He was moved to O.D. Heck where the Careys said in December he was doing well.
The Careys described the fawn-haired boy with huge cerulean eyes as a good son who loved his father and mother. "He loved to watch Jesus films," Mike said softly. "He loved people and wanted to be around people. He loved horses. There was just so much love in his heart."
Jonathan was a regular visitor of the New Horizons stable on Pearse Road. When he was riding horses, Jonathan seemed happy, his parents said.
The Careys sued Anderson School in 2005, in state Supreme Court in Albany, claiming the institution and its staff violated Jonathan's right to safety and nourishment.
In December, Mike Carey said, "No parent or guardian should ever have to go through what Lisa and I have had to endure just to get answers. We would have been arrested if what happened to Jonathan had happened at home."
Since then, the couple has fought to get sealed records opened that they believe could reveal who had physically abused the boy as well as who knew it but did nothing to prevent it or report it. He said he hoped his son's death would enable the family to get the law changed.
"This is what we had been concerned about, what we have been fighting for," Mike said, of his son's death. "We really felt compelled, like a God-given responsibility, to help other children, to get changes and reform to help prevent something like this from happening."
Michele Morgan Bolton can be reached at 434-2403 or by e-mail at mbolton@timesunion.com. Paul Nelson contributed to this story.
Devon Hinman Seely 2-year-old
It's an absolutely heinous crime
SUSPECT: MOM PART OF PLOT TO DROWN BOY
A Mesa man arrested in last week's drowning of a toddler said Monday that the boy's mother helped plan the murder, right down to the Spider-Man toy left next to the pool.
"She said we could drown him and make it look like an accident," Derek Chappell, 21, said Monday during an interview at Madison Street Jail. "She had a decision to make ... either to pick me or her son."
Chappell is being held without bail on suspicion of first-degree murder in the Thursday death of 2-year-old Devon Hinman.
The mother, Krystal Shackleford, denied any involvement, according to Sgt. Ruben Quesada, a Mesa police spokesman.
"She is a lead. Police have spoken to her. She has denied all the allegations made by Chappell," Quesada said. "It's still an open investigation."
Dressed in a black-and-white-striped jail uniform and with shackles on his hands and feet, Chappell rubbed his face and looked down frequently during the half-hour interview. At one point, Chappell hesitated before sharing explicit details of the drowning, saying he didn't believe his mother could handle hearing about the crime.
Chappell said he went to Shackleford's apartment and took Devon out of Shackleford's bed early Thursday morning, led him hand-in-hand to the pool and held him underwater for about 30 seconds until he stopped struggling.
He claims Shackleford left the apartment door unlocked and said, "Hey, baby" when she saw Chappell lean over her bed to pick up the child.
Devon and Chappell walked downstairs and entered the pool area at the Aventerra apartment complex, 1960 W. Keating Ave., Mesa. Devon did not cry or speak in the moments before the drowning, Chappell said.
Chappell said he had second thoughts as soon as he put the boy in the water. "The first thing that went through my mind was that this can't be how it's going to end for this kid. It just can't be. At that point, I wanted to pull him out and I wanted to take him back up there, but ... I had come this far and there was no way around it."
According to Chappell, Shackleford discussed drowning her son the day before it happened.
"She (Shackleford) didn't hold a gun to my head. I just did it for love I guess, which was the wrong reason," he said.
Chappell said Shackleford had a written list of commands for him: to make sure he had a rock to prop open the gate around the pool, wear dark clothing and bring a toy for Devon. Chappell said he later burned the instructions.
About an hour after the drowning, Chappell said he realized he had forgotten the toy so he returned and left the Spider-Man doll on the deck.
Before Devon's death, Mesa police were investigating Chappell in connection with a child-abuse incident in December.
Police said that on Dec. 10, Chappell was caring for Devon and grew angry when the boy wouldn't lie still for a diaper change.
"Placing his hands by the neck and the chest area of the child he pushed down, causing the child's face to turn red," Detective Tim Gaffney said.
"He actually left marks and bruising on the chest and neck."
In the interview Monday, Chappell admitted to the December incident, blaming prescription medicine for his emotional state and saying he was horrified when he realized he had hurt Devon's neck.
Chappell said he hopes to receive the death penalty because he cannot bear to live with his guilt.
"I definitely did love him," Chappell said.
Patricia Biggs and David J. Cieslak, The Arizona Republic
The drowning of 2-year-old Devon Hinman Seely early Thursday is now a homicide investigation. Derek Chappell, 21, an exboyfriend of the boy's mother, admitted to Mesa police Friday that he entered the family's apartment through an unlocked front door around 2 a.m., carried Devon to the pool and held the boy underwater until he drowned.
Chappell was arrested on suspicion of first-degree murder. He was booked into Maricopa County's Madison Street Jail in Phoenix late Friday.
"Mesa detectives are still trying to determine a motive for this crime," Mesa detective Tim Gaffney said.
Chappell was already being investigated by Mesa police and state Child Protective Services in connection with a December incident in which the boy was found with bruises on his chest and neck, officials said.
The boy's mother, Krystal Shackleford, 22 told the Tribune on Thursday night she suspected Chappell because she refused to rekindle their relationship after the earlier incident.
"(Wednesday) night we talked and I told him I couldn't be with him because my son is the most important thing in my life and if I'm with him , (CPS) will take him away," she said Thursday.
Shackleford could not be reached for comment Friday night.
Shackleford called 911 around 6 a.m. Thursday and reported waking to find her front door open and her son missing.
Officers at the Dobson substation a quarter-mile away responded to the Aventerra at Dobson Ranch apartments, 1960 W. Keating Ave., and searched the complex, Gaffney said.
An officer found Devon facedown in three feet of water about 5 feet from the pool's edge, Gaffney said.
The officer dived in, pulled the boy out and performed CPR until paramedics arrived.
The boy was taken to Banner Desert Medical Center in Mesa, where he was pronounced dead at 7:20 a.m., Gaffney said.
A security guard at the complex had told police that the pool gate was closed and locked when he checked it at 10 p.m. Wednesday.
Shackleford said Thursday she knew what had happened to her son as soon as she awoke to find her patio door broken into and her blinds open.
She said she locked both doors, and engaged the deadbolt.
Even if Devon had been able to unlock the doors, he knew he wasn't allowed to go outside, Shackleford said.
"He would not walk out of my apartment. He would not," Shackleford said. "He listens to me and you don't know how smart he was."
Shackleford and Chappell broke up in December.
In the abuse case, Gaffney said Chappell admitted he grew frustrated while trying to change the boy's diaper and shoved down hard on his chest with his hands.
"It's an absolutely heinous crime," Gaffney said of the drowning.
Authorities say the 16-year-old girl found dead in a dumpster was in state custody.
The Missouri Department of Social Services confirms Keyandra Jackson was in their custody.
Her body was found Wednesday in a dumpster in north St. Louis.
Detectives believe she was killed somewhere else and then her body dumped.
Rose Kelley 5-year-old
"How can you sit there and say that system works when this little girl is dead?"
State records hint at Rose Kelley's story
Flint -- The people who were supposed to look out for Rose Kelley got repeated warnings about what they eventually called "indescribable" filth inside her family's eastside home, according to newly released state documents.
Little girl with a big smile trapped in life of squalor
But nine months after the lice-covered 5-year-old died from liver failure and neglect, the state Department of Human Services has cleared itself of any mishandling of her case.
More than 1,000 pages of documents obtained by The Flint Journal through the Freedom of Information Act show problems percolated for years in the home of Michelle Bowen and Jeffrey Kelley despite five separate complaints to DHS about unsanitary conditions and lice.
Reports from Flint police, DHS, the Oakland County medical examiner and other agencies were included in documents released to The Journal.
They include a caseworker's assessment more than two years before Rose Kelley's death that she and her siblings "did not appear to be clean," slept on dirty mattresses without sheets, and that their home was "unfit" for children.
After each investigation, the state offered advice and help, and Bowen and Kelley put their house in good enough order to pass inspection -- at least until another complaint would start the process all over again.
The chronic pattern left Rose Kelley and three other children caught in their N. Franklin Avenue rental house with no escape from a suffocating stench of garbage and dog feces and swarms of bugs that came with it.
Conditions at the time of Rose Kelley's death were so bad a contractor hired to clean the home told police he was "ate up" by fleas inside and threw up three times because of the smell, according to a Flint police report.
In response to The Journal's FOIA request, DHS released photos taken inside the home that appear to show a chaotic dwelling littered with trash, clothing, scattered dog food and with bugs dominating the images.
Rose Kelley died June 3, 2006, from liver disease likely brought on by malnutrition and overuse of the fever- and pain-reliever acetaminophen, according to a medical examiner's report.
The brown-haired, blue-eyed girl weighed just 35 pounds at the time of her death, so sick in her last days that her speech was slurred and she was too weak to walk, according to transcripts of interviews with her parents.
She died without seeing a doctor, her parents told police, because they feared what would happen if doctors saw how badly the children's hair was infested with lice or if social workers saw the condition of their home.
Jeffrey Kelley and Bowen are in state prison for a minimum of 17 months after pleading guilty to involuntary manslaughter in their daughter's death.
DHS "acted appropriately, in compliance with policy and law, in its handling of the Rose Kelley case," according to an internal investigation released to The Journal as part of its request for documents.
But the finding by the Office of the Family Advocate -- consistent with a review by the state Office of Children's Ombudsman in August -- hasn't
satisfied everyone, including Jeffrey Kelley's former sister-in-law and some state legislators.
"DHS was very aware this was a bad situation ... (Jeffrey Kelley has) taken responsibility for being a bad parent (and) I don't defend his actions, but to say DHS had no responsibility to the children -- I don't agree with that," said Kimberly Kelley. .
"How can you sit there and say that system works when this little girl is dead?"
Bowen and Jeffrey Kelley declined to be interviewed from state prison, where each is serving a minimum of 17 months after pleading guilty to involuntary manslaughter in their daughter's death.
But in statements to police, Bowen said she knew her daughter was "getting pretty bad" before she died because she was unable to walk to the bathroom.
Rather than taking their daughter to the hospital, Bowen said the couple clothed her in disposable pull-up diapers and left a cooking pot for her to vomit in.
After several days of illness, the little girl died, her head so covered with biting lice that one witness told police her scalp smelled of rotting flesh.
In a one-page report, Office of Family Advocate Director Steve Yager called the Kelley case "tragic," but said it didn't point to problems with DHS' handling of repeated complaints against Bowen and Jeffrey Kelley.
Those complaints of unsanitary conditions and dirty children were serious enough to investigates, Yager said, but never bad enough that the department could have removed children from the home.
"(It) underlines the importance of early intervention and strong community supports for families, two key principles underlying DHS child welfare reforms under way for the past four years," Yager's letter says.
"This is anything but an exact science when you deal with human beings," he said.
"This is in real time. ... You do have families that are marginal families. There are people working really hard to make it, (and) you try to support them (to) do the best they can."
Yager said his review of files connected to the household make it appear something drastic must have happened between mid-November 2005 -- the last time a caseworker filed a report about the family -- and Rose's death less than seven months later.
He said he trusts the reports filed by DHS employees who said that they visited the household seven times in 2005 alone. The agency says it made help for housecleaning and lice available to the family.
On Nov. 18, 2005, a DHS caseworker concluded there "is not a preponderence of evidence to support the (most recent) allegation of neglect."
Others, however, have suggested caseworkers were missing something obvious to others. For example:
A brother of Jeffrey Kelley told Flint police that household hygiene had been deplorable for years, with diapers simply left on the floors, cockroaches in food and dirty dishes scattered around the home.
The house stank so badly on hot days, he said, that people on the sidewalk could smell it, and his brother and Bowen would go weeks without bathing.
A neighbor told police she never saw children outside playing, and a child in the home told police Rose Kelley's hair was so infested by lice that she was kept inside "because my stepdad doesn't want to be embarrassed in front of the neighbors."
Another relative told police the children "smelled like feet, (arm) pit, sex and funk" because they were rarely bathed.
"At some point, somebody that had interaction with that family should have said, 'We've got to get these children out of here,'" said state Rep. David Robertson, R-Grand Blanc Twp.
"Maybe we need to expand the circumstances under which (a termination) petition can be submitted to the court."
"Saving that child has to be the paramount concern," said Robertson, who took part in a hearing by the House Special Committee on Child Protection in Flint in August.
"You allow for due process (for the parents), but at some point you say, 'Enough,'" Robertson said.
The state legislator said he would support changes in state law to better extend protection to children in bad homes and called the Rose Kelley case "a microcosm of everything that is tragic about our society."
State Rep. David Law, R-West Bloomfield, said he's not surprised DHS' internal investigation found no shortcomings in its own performance.
"These families having multiple contacts with the department and nothing of substance happening is common," Law said.
"You've heard the old expression 'Where there's smoke, there's fire'? We may have to look at staying in contact with families after a certain number" of complaints.
"This is an issue I'm going to continue to work on. ... In my opinion, there is a lack of accountability," he said.
Genesee County Prosecutor David Leyton said DHS "attempted to make the conditions better" inside Rose Kelley's home but fell short.
"Clearly, because Rose died, the mother and father needed assistance beyond what they received," Leyton said.
"There's no question there were enormous problems in the home. It's also clear that at various points, DHS was aware of that."
Timeline to tragedy
Records obtained by The Flint Journal through the Freedom of Information Act show there were early signs of trouble in the Flint home where 5-year-old Rose Kelley died June 3, 2006:
Jan. 2, 1998
Michelle Bowen, Rose Kelley's mother, brings a female child to Hurley Medical Center, complaining that the child may have been sexually abused. The state Department of Human Services investigates and finds "very little evidence that sexual abuse took place."
Nov. 18, 2001
DHS receives a complaint that children in the home are filthy and may have no food.
The person tells the state the home is cluttered, scattered with dog feces and piled with dirty dishes.
A DHS caseworker finds the house "very clean and picked up" and the refrigerator, freezer and cupboards well-stockedduring a visit.
The complaint is dismissed "due to the complete lack of evidence."
Oct. 24, 2003
A telephone complaint alleges an unidentified child suffering with hydrocephalus -- an abnormal accumulation of fluid in the cranium --was being medically neglected in the home.
A caseworker finds the home a little messy, but not a health hazard for children.
DHS finds the child in question "has been medically neglected" and begins monitoring the family "as required by policy."
Nov. 19, 2003
Bowen and Jeffrey Kelley, Rose Kelley's father, sign a service agreement, saying they will work with the school of the child with hydrocephalus and follow through on all recommendations.
Jan. 12, 2004
A caseworker finds children "did not appear to be clean" during a home visit and writes to the couple, detailing problems of trash strewn on floors, children who appeared unbathed, no sheets on beds and dirty dishes piled on a kitchen table.
The case is closed two weeks later after a caseworker finds the home "clean and appropriate" in a follow-up visit.
Dec. 10, 2004
A child in the home has missed most of the school year because of a continuing head lice problem, according to a complainant, who says the house is "a complete mess" strewn with trash, dirty diapers and clothes -- "a complete dump."
Eleven days later, DHS finds a preponderance of evidence that children had been physically neglected.
A safety assessment by the department says the children are not likely in immediate danger, and allow Bowen and Kelley to sign an agreement aimed at making their home "free from neglect and head lice."
The family is referred for help.
May 1, 2005
A social worker writes, "The kids feet are filthy due to the floor being so filthy.
Walls need (to be) washed. ... Dad is not working but Mom is. ... I believe Dad needs to pick up some share of responsibilities."
May 30, 2005
Dimensions Therapeutic Services, a state contractor based in Lathrup Village, files a report saying the couple is "making progress on their goals. Mom appears to still need more effort from Dad. ... They have done a tremendous job getting the house cleaned."
The Flint Journal could not reach the company for comment.
June 21, 2005
A caseworker files a report saying Michelle Bowen's doctor has prescribed her medication for depression.
Monitoring of the family ends after the caseworker reports improvement in housekeeping and delivers head lice treatment supplies donated by a local church.
June 30, 2005
Dimensions Therapeutic Services files a report saying the family has made some progress to improve hygiene.
"Unfortunately, the family's standards for hygiene and basic cleaning maintenance of the home is below what it should be for having small children in the home."
Sept. 12, 2005
A complainant says the family home "appears not to have been cleaned in a year.
The whole house is infested with cockroaches, beetles. ... Any food that falls on the floor stays there. ... Children are filthy... The basement is filled with dog poop."
A caseworker makes an appointment to see the home -- giving the family notice of the visit -- and finds "no debris anywhere. There were no dirty dishes. ... The family's table was clean"
On a return visit two weeks later, a caseworker finds the home has been picked up but "still had a strong odor."
After a third visit to the home, the case is closed.
Oct. 14, 2005
A complainant says the family home "reeks of urine bad enough that it causes one's eyes to burn. The home is infested with roaches and flies. The carpets in the home are just filthy."
A caseworker following up on the complaint notes a strong smell in the house "that comes from the carpet that the family can't afford to replace."
The same worker says there is food available and the house is picked up.
On Nov. 18, the caseworker concludes there "is not a preponderance of evidence to support the allegation of neglect."
May 16, 2006
A caseworker meets the couple at Flint's Washington Elementary School, telling the two that the state can help them by sending someone to the home to "get things cleaned up and instruct them on how to take care of the lice problem."
The report says the couple "refused services from DHS at this time."
June 3, 2006
Flint police find Rose Kelley, 5, dead inside her home after a 911 call from Bowen and Kelley, reporting that their daughter has stopped breathing.
An emergency room doctor notes three surviving children from the home are "unkempt," "dirty" and have an "incredible amount of head lice."
A DHS caseworker called to the scene reports swarms of flies and cockroaches crawling on dirty dishes stacked around the home, calling conditions "indescribable."
MicKenzie Brown 3-year-old
"What I'm hoping is that MicKenzie's voice can be heard. "
The state reached out to MicKenzie Brown's family in the fall of 1999.
Months later, the 3-year-old Huntington girl became another Indiana statistic.
MicKenzie died in February 2000 after her father, Levohn Brown, hit her in the head with a wooden paddle. On the board, Brown had inscribed: "Reason to cry."
Brown was convicted of murder and sentenced to life in prison. MicKenzie's mother, Shanda Vance, has filed a lawsuit against Child Protection Services in Huntington County.
Vance -- divorced from MicKenzie's father and living in Texas at the time of the killing -- claims an investigator from the county's Office of Family and Children squandered opportunities to save her daughter's life.
She said the case manager assigned to look into allegations by a doctor and a child-care worker four months before MicKenzie's death did not do a thorough investigation and missed signs that the child was being abused.
Said Vance: "What I'm hoping is that MicKenzie's voice can be heard . . . and shake CPS up enough that they have to make changes.
"They have to be held accountable."
Indiana officials declined comment on MicKenzie's case because of the lawsuit. But they told The Star they are adopting reforms to better protect all children. And Gov. Frank O'Bannon has pledged his support for a new Commission on Abused and Neglected Children that will look at ways to improve child protection.
Daytwon Bennett 5-year-old
On the day before Easter
the mentally unstable mother of a five-year-old Bronx boy named Daytwon Bennett tied him to a chair and beat him to death with a broomstick. Starving when he died-he weighed just 30 pounds-Daytwon had suffered "multiple blunt impact injuries" over a long period, according to the autopsy report. Daytwon was not unknown to the child welfare authorities. They had removed him from his mother's custody and placed him in foster care on four separate occasions in his short lifetime-only to uproot him and send him back to her for more abuse each time.
Zahid Jones 3-year-old
Maybe some hope, but not for Zahid
While DCF has been quick to promise disclosure of its handling of the case, protection still failed.
Another Southwest Florida child in desperate need of protection at home, another child horribly abused and killed.
People in Florida's child protection system knew there were serious problems in 3-year-old Zahid Jones' family, but Zahid is dead anyway.
It's too early to say whether the Department of Children and Families and its contract abuse case manager, the Children's Network, can be fairly charged with negligence.
If there is any faint hope in this case, it is that DCF has been uncharacteristically quick to promise full disclosure of its handling of the case, including mistakes. In past catastrophes, the tendency has been to circle the spokespeople and screen the agency as much as possible.
The change may reflect the influence of former Attorney General Bob Butterworth, who was chosen by new Gov. Charlie Crist to head the troubled agency. Both Crist and Butterworth are committed to open government, and Zahid's case will be another test of that commitment. We believe it can only help the agency fulfill its mission.
What's known publicly in Zahid's case is that when emergency workers found the boy last week in Cape Coral, only four days after a case worker's visit to the home, he was soaking wet and had fluid in his mouth that had to be removed with suction. He was covered with bruises. His mother's boyfriend, Kashon Scott, 29, has been arrested and charged with aggravated child abuse and second-degree murder. He had been barred by a court order from having contract with Zahid.
DCF had begun to investigate the family in December after a hotline call. Zahid and his two half-siblings were removed for undisclosed reasons in March, before being returned April 4, the same day that the mother, Nicole Brewington, reported that Scott had returned to her home, abusing and threatening her. Zahid's paternal grandmother has accused Brewington of beating the child and not feeding him. She said she has repeatedly asked DCF to act, to no avail. Brewington's mother has denied her daughter was abusive, saying Scott bullied and abused her. Other questions remain unanswered publicly, including the cause of death.
Once DCF and the Children's Network have sorted this out, Zahid and Florida's thousands of vulnerable children deserve an honest accounting.
We should hold DCF to spokeswoman Coral Conner's words: "We will be uncovering every rock, every aspect of this case. If there is absolutely anything we could have done differently, we will make it public knowledge."
Destiny Jackson 15-month-old
FOR A MOMENT, SHE WAS SAFE
Died February 13, 2007
Her father said she cracked her skull when he accidentally dropped her. Suspicious social workers sent Destiny Jackson to live in foster care.
The baby was safe for two months. When police couldn't make a case, she was sent home.
On Tuesday, 15-month-old Destiny died from new injuries, two weeks after being reunited with her parents, Beauford Craig Jackson III and Maeve Clifford, both 18.
This time, St. Paul police say the evidence is strong. They accuse Jackson of beating her to death in their Highland Park apartment.
Mikel Clifford, Destiny's maternal grandmother, said that even after Destiny fractured her skull in November, she didn't think Jackson was violent.
Dad charged with St. Paul baby's death Mom tells cops he first told her not to call for help, then to lie that he wasn't home
BY MARA H. GOTTFRIED Pioneer Press
Destiny Jackson's lips turned blue and she could hardly breathe, but authorities say her father told her mother not to call 911. He assured her Destiny would be fine.
Maeve Clifford made the call anyway. Then, prosecutors allege, Beauford Jackson III told Clifford to lie and tell authorities he wasn't home when their 15-month-old daughter was hurt at their St. Paul apartment. At first, she went along and said Destiny had fallen off a bed.
But when the child died about an hour later, police say, Clifford told the truth. She told police that when she returned from grocery shopping shortly after midnight Monday, she found her daughter injured and saw blood on Jackson's shirt.
Doctors said Destiny couldn't have been hurt so badly falling off a bed. Police and prosecutors agreed, and the Ramsey County attorney's office on Wednesday charged Jackson with second-degree unintentional murder. He was being held in the Ramsey County jail on $1 million bail.
"It is hard to comprehend how a small child, a vulnerable child, can be murdered at the hands of one of their parents," said Ramsey County Attorney Susan Gaertner. "There's just no explanation."
Child protection officials returned Destiny to the care of her 18-year-old parents two weeks before she died. She was put in foster care just after Thanksgiving, when it was discovered she had a skull fracture.
Jackson told police at the time that he had accidentally dropped Destiny, according to the baby's maternal grandmother. Medical evidence couldn't prove that it hadn't been an accident, so he wasn't charged, police said.
Jackson's relatives said they don't believe he killed his daughter.
"I don't think Destiny could have made him that angry to do something like that," said his mother, Sharise Drown.
She questioned whether the injuries had been inflicted in the days before the baby died, while Jackson was not around.
Clifford's mother said she was appalled by details included in the complaint filed Wednesday.
"It seems obvious to me that he will say anything to not accept responsibility and she will go along with it, or in the past she did anyway," Mikel Clifford said.
At first, Maeve Clifford told police Destiny fell off a bed, "popped right up" as though she were fine, but then vomited, the complaint said.
Paramedics called to the couple's apartment in the 1300 block of West Maynard Drive after 12:30 a.m. Tuesday found the child unresponsive and pale; there were bruises on her abdomen, forehead and both sides of her neck, the complaint said.
The Ramsey County medical examiner's office ruled Destiny bled to death from cuts on her liver caused by blunt force injuries to her chest and abdomen.
When police questioned Clifford later at the police department, she admitted "she had concocted the story at the request of Beauford Jackson," the complaint said.
Clifford said she went to Coopers SuperValu at 11:40 or 11:50 p.m. Monday, which investigators verified, the complaint said.
When she returned, Jackson was giving their daughter a bath. She told police she wondered why because the baby had been bathed earlier, the complaint said.
Clifford noticed blood on both shoulders of Jackson's shirt, the complaint said.
Clifford told police she wanted to call 911 immediately, but Jackson told her to calm down. He said the baby would be fine. She called 911 from her cell phone.
Jackson told her he was going to leave and she should tell paramedics and police he hadn't been there earlier, the complaint said. He changed his clothes before paramedics arrived, the complaint said.
Initially, Jackson told police he arrived home when Clifford was on the phone with an emergency dispatcher, the complaint said.
Jackson told an investigator later he came home after the paramedics arrived, according to the complaint. He said he was at his mother's house that afternoon and at the home of a friend, next door to his mother's.
Jackson said he rode Metro Transit buses and video on the buses would prove it, the complaint said. An investigator didn't see him on the tapes.
Police also talked to the man Jackson said he had visited. The man said he hadn't seen Jackson for two to three weeks, the complaint said.
Evelyn Miller 5-year-old
Agency had contact with Evelyn's family before she was murdered.
By: Orlan Love - The Gazette Originally published in The Gazette July 13, 2005.
Gov. Tom Vilsack will review Department of Human Services files documenting the agency's handling of allegations that 5-year-old Evelyn Miller may have been neglected or abused before the Floyd County child's murder earlier this month.
"We're happy to have him looking over our shoulder," said DHS spokesman Roger Munns, who confirmed the agency had contact with Evelyn's family before she was murdered.
Evelyn's body was found July 6 in the Cedar River about two miles north of Charles City. She had been missing since July 1 from the rural Floyd home she shared with two younger brothers, Noel Miller, and her mother's fiance, Casey Fredericksen. No one has been charged.
Vilsack's inquiry was not prompted by press reports Tuesday that Evelyn's grandparents, Linda and Richard Christie of Windsor Heights, had criticized the thoroughness of the DHS response, according to Matt Paul, the governor's spokesman.
The Christies, who could not be reached Tuesday, were quoted as saying they had feared for Evelyn's safety and that relatives, friends and school officials on more than a dozen occasions had reported concerns about Evelyn's home life to the DHS.
Munns said he could not comment on the nature, source or number of reports except to say the agency was not "besieged with calls" about the girl's treatment.
Before the governor's request, DHS Director Kevin Concannon had already ordered an internal review to determine if agency procedures had been followed, Munns said.
Vilsack's request for the DHS file is part of his efforts to ensure the state is doing all it can to protect children, Paul said.
That effort, he said, includes making sure the Department of Public Safety provides all the assistance local investigators need to solve the case.Paul said Vilsack is acting in accordance with a law - enacted after the 2000 beating death of 2-year-old Shelby Duis of Spirit Lake - that gives the governor access to the privileged information contained in DHS files.
"This is not an indictment of the DHS handling of the case. It is an opportunity to ensure that all the protocols have been followed," Paul said.
The file should be in Vilsack's hands in a day or two, according to Munns, who said he expected the governor to issue a statement after his review.
Munns said this is the second case in which Vilsack has exercised his prerogative to review DHS files. In the first, involving a Winterset couple accused of locking a 10-year-old girl in her room for extended periods, Vilsack concluded that DHS workers had responded appropriately, Munns said.
Nadine Lockwood 4-year-old
Starve to death -Nadine was a baby, unable to walk, talk or fend for herself.-
The child weighed 15 pounds, the weight of a 6-month-old, when police found her emaciated remains on Aug. 31, 1996, under a pile of filthy clothes. The child "looked like little more than a skeleton" when police saw her body, the appellate judges said. "The officers were shocked to discover that Nadine would have been 5 years old had she lived another 19 days."
NEW YORK (CNN) -- An extensive review process is under way by New York City child welfare officials to find out how and why a 4-year-old girl was allowed to starve to death, even though the child welfare agency was aware of problems in her home.
Nadine Lockwood was found dead over the weekend, her body severely malnourished. Her mother, Carla Lockwood, was arraigned Monday on a criminal court complaint of murder. Prosecutors will inform the court on Friday whether or not they will pursue a full murder indictment against Lockwood.
A scheduled court appearance by Lockwood was postponed Tuesday after she complained of stomach pains and was hospitalized.
John Mohan, of the Department of Corrections, said Lockwood was taken from the Rose M. Singer Center, where female inmates are housed at Rikers Island Prison, to Elmhurst Hospital Center in Queens. The spokesman said he did not how long she would remain hospitalized nor what her condition is.
The hospital would not comment.
Lockwood is pregnant and one official, who wished not to be identified, said she may be suffering an ectopic pregnancy.
A spokeswoman for the Administration for Children's Services said it could be "months" before a determination is made in Nadine Lockwood's case.
Maggie Lear said the agency is beginning "a preliminary investigation" into the matter and has just begun to look into the Lockwood file.
Lear said case records are being compiled and that a two- prong review process must occur before Commissioner of Children's Services, Nicholas Scoppetta, will be ready to comment on the case.
The spokeswoman said a review will be done by the Accountability Review Panel, followed by a report by the New York City Child Fatality Review Panel. Both reports, said Lear, will be provided to Scoppetta.
Scoppetta said Monday in a press conference that the agency had had contact with the Lockwood family and that two of the children, one of them Nadine, were born with drugs in their systems.
"There's a history of drugs in the family," said Scoppetta.
But Scoppetta said child welfare officials had last seen the family in May of 1995.
"I assure you that we have embarked on a complete and thorough investigation of all the contacts that the agency had with this family," Scoppetta told reporters.
Lockwood lived with her seven children, including Nadine, in a small, filthy apartment in Harlem.
Scoppetta said Nadine's six siblings are together and in foster care, apparently healthy with no signs of abuse.
Barry Theus ,Jr 2-month-old
Children's Protective Services officials say they've known Hoosier for years.
Mother accused of fatally beating two-month-old infant as revenge
(6/12/07 - KTRK/HOUSTON) - Prosecutors say a mother brutally beat and killed her own two-month-old child, all because she was mad at someone else.By Tom Abrahams
On Friday , Jessica Ann Hoosier's young child died. Hoosier was booked into jail over the weekend and appeared before a judge today.
Prosecutors tell us that Barry Theus, Jr. was only two months old, and they believe he sustained violent abuse for half of his short life.
Hoosier walked into court this morning an accused killer, who prosecutors say essentially tortured her two-month-old son who weighed just seven pounds.
Investigators say there were two 911 hang-up calls made Saturday from an apartment in the Greenspoint area. They believe the baby was dead at least 24 hours.
Authorities tell us that when they found the baby in the apartment they could not tell how he died. It wasn't until the autopsy that they could actually see the extent of his injuries.
"(He) had numerous skull fractures, rib fractures, a broken arm& His injuries were at various stages of healing," Newman said.
Children's Protective Services officials say they've known Hoosier for years.
Estella Olguin with CPS explained, "She also had a child back in 1999 and that child was taken from her and has since been adopted."
They'd investigated her as recently as January.
"At the time this two-month-old little boy hadn't been born," Olguin explained. "But she had a one-year-old daughter and a two-year-old daughter. Those children were seen and they didn't have any injuries or any signs of abuse and she had moved out."
But then, according to investigators, she moved back in with the baby's father. And when she suspected him of being unfaithful, they say she took it out on her newborn son.
"The report indicates that she demonstrated to the officers how she hit the child in the head and chest with the hard portion of the palm of her hand repeatedly," Newman explained.
Donnie Ray Aldridge's mother, Donna Kay Harrington has filed a $4.5 million suit against the Department of Human Services, state officials and doctors, Public Welfare Commissioners and the foster parents who kept her son.
The suit alleges that the foster parents were responsible for Donnie's death. Harrington accused the foster parents of causing the death through child abuse.
Donnie was made a ward of the court and was placed in the custody of the welfare department which chose the foster parents. Harrington claims in her suit that the state was negligent in its placement of Donnie with the foster parents and for not investigating complaints of child abuse brought by her prior to his death.
She contends that state medical examiners, who conducted an autopsy on Donnie's body, "concealed the actual cause of death by certifying it as accidental although no reasonable explanation was given."
Harrington also accuses state officials and doctors of joining in a civil rights conspiracy by ignoring complaints that Donnie was in danger in the foster home and endeavoring to "cover up" the cause of death.
Harrington seeks $2 million for grief and loss of Donnie's companionship, destruction of the child/parent relationship, loss of money expended by the mother for support, maintenance and education of Donnie, loss of money to Donnie's heirs and for punitive damages. She also demands $1.5 million on behalf of her dead son for pain and suffering before his death and also for punitive damages. She seeks another $1 million on the civil rights conspiracy charge.
Sania English 2-month-old
May 26,2007
The May 26 death of 2-month-old Sania English, who died without any obvious signs of trauma. Investigators said an unsafe sleeping environment - a cluttered crib - may have been a factor. The family was under active DHS supervision.
Chelsea Brown 2-year-old
System failed a child at risk. - March 7, 2001
The death of Chelsea Brown has again called into question the intervention of social services in cases where children are known to be at risk.
'Evil' father Robert Brown was given a life sentence on Tuesday for what police have described as one of the "worst cases of child abuse they have ever seen".
The two-year-old had been tortured and shaken to death by a father who had a history of violence towards children.
The tragic fate of Chelsea has echoes of eight-year-old Anna Climbie, from Tottenham, north London, who suffered horrific abuse at the hands of her great aunt and her partner.
When the pair were both received life sentences in January, there were calls for an urgent review of the social service system to ensure it could never happen again.
Tragically, for Chelsea, it did.
Derbyshire's director of social services, Bruce Buckley, acknowledged that his staff made errors in the case.
"The workers were concerned and that is why they were visiting regularly but clearly on this occasion we did not make the right decisions," he said.
Warnings
Chelsea was considered at risk from her father as soon as she was born, and was immediately put on the child protection register.
But despite visiting the family at least 27 times in just over three months, the authorities decided it was safe to leave her with her father and mother Maria Brown, of Kirk Hallam, Derbyshire.
Neighbours said they warned social services that Chelsea was at risk after hearing Brown's outbursts of temper and the child's crying.
Stephen Baker told the BBC: "The only retort we got was 'if you hear anything again give us another ring' and that was as far as it went."
Another neighbour Bob Kemp said: "Someone should have picked up on it, end of story. To me it was totally preventable."
History of violence
Even after a doctor suspected abuse when she noted bruises on Chelsea, the child was still not removed from her parents' care, Nottingham Crown Court heard.
Just over three weeks later Chelsea was dead after she was violently shaken by her father.
Brown had a string of convictions, including actual bodily harm for slapping his 16-month-old nephew and another when he dragged him through the street.
In February 1998 he was placed on probation for threatening to kill his own mother and a social worker.
Despite his violent background, Derbyshire social services decided to allow Chelsea to return to her parents after her paternal grandmother said she could no longer care for the girl.
"At the time Chelsea went back no-one could have predicted the outcome based on Mr Brown's previous behaviour," said Mr Buckley.
The couple by then had another daughter, 17-month-old Courtney, who Brown tried to blame for causing some of the injuries to Chelsea.
Hilary Owen, the author of an independent report into the case, told a press conference on Tuesday that Brown had been able to mislead professional about the cause of many of Chelsea's injuries.
She added: "The death of any child is always a cause for great sadness and the circumstances surrounding Chelsea's death are particularly tragic.
"There was increased concern about Chelsea in the time she was living with her parents and removal was an active consideration in the last few weeks of her life."
Mr Buckley refused to discuss whether the principal social worker in the case, Norma McDevitt, would be disciplined.
Authorities are agreed that the many lessons learnt from the loss of Chelsea Brown and Anna Climbie should this time guarantee that no child dies in such tragic and violent circumstances again.
Ashley Nicole Abshier 22- moth-old
"beat her until she is potty trained."
Tulsa, OK -- Ashley's parents, Steven Lynn Abshier, 37, and Stephanie Abshier, 21, were charged with her 1995 death.
In 1998 Ashley's father was given the death penalty by lethal injection by a jury, in what they called an "extremely horrendous" case of child abuse after being found guilty of first-degree murder. Ashley's mother pleaded guilty to second-degree murder and testified at her husband's trial. She received a 25-year prison sentence because she had been warned by child welfare workers that Ashley's father would end up killing her.
Ashley's cold, beaten body was brought to an emergency room hours after her death by her father, who claimed she'd been hit by a car. But her injuries did not fit the explanation. A state medical examiner testified that Ashley's injuries appeared as if someone had stomped the back of her head. Part of the skin on her face had peeled off. She died from the head injuries, but also had internal injuries.
Ashley's parents had left one county a few months before her death when they learned DHS planned to take their daughter away from them for prior abuse of a broken arm and other abuses by her father. Ashley had previously been removed from her parents and returned when her mother assured DHS that she would get a restraining order against Ashley's father after she left him and keep her away from him. Within 30 days they had fled the county for the explicit purpose of hiding from DHS when learning of the court order to remove her yet again.
According to court records, Ashley's mother told police she reunited with her husband "because she had nowhere else to go. and she testified at her husband's trial that she reunited with him because she thought he would change. She said she trusted him and she wanted to believe that he would change" She got a job at a fast-food restaurant while Ashley's father remained home with her.
The prosecutor in the case said that Ashley was likely abused "since the day she was born" claiming her father would dress her in sweat pants on a hot, summer day to hide her injuries and even though her mother was not present when Ashley was killed she was charged with murder because she "certainly had more than ample knowledge of her husband's violent behavior toward her and Ashley."
Defense attorneys essentially conceded Abshier's guilt, calling no witnesses during the trial's first phase, instead concentrating their efforts to keep him off death row. During the trial's penalty phase, they presented evidence of Abshier's lifetime abuse of drugs and alcohol. His previous felony convictions for possession and sale of drugs and driving under the influence of alcohol.
Since his arrest, Abshier admitted he was a heavy user of methamphetamine in the months prior to his daughter's death, defense psychologist Wanda Draper testified. He said the night Ashley was killed he just "lost control." Jurors told prosecutors afterward they felt that Abshire intended to kill his daughter.
In his closing argument, defense attorney Paul Faulk had asked jurors "to extend mercy" and spare his client's life. A life sentence without parole would be severe enough, he argued.
However, Assistant District Attorney Susan Caswell argued the crime was so horrible that death was the only appropriate punishment for Abshier.
During the trial, there was testimony that Abshier had said of his daughter that he would "beat her until she is potty trained."
Scott Slipper 17-year-old
Son's death could have been avoided
THE death of a 17-year-old diabetic could have been prevented, an inquest heard.
Scott Slipper was found dead in his room in a homeless hostel in County Road, Swindon, on September 7, 2004.
A review into his death, which was disclosed to the inquest, stated there was a chance Scott's death could have been avoided.
Scott's parents Lance and Paulene Slipper said that they were failed by Swindon Social Services.
The serious case review stated: "It can only be conjecture that the lack of referral for assessment, the missed opportunities to assess and the quality of assessments when made would have prevented Scott's death.
"However, as these are the tools we use to work together to address children's needs, the panel considered that they would have made a difference."
The report made several key recommendations to stop the failings which may have contributed to Scott's death from happening again.
Swindon coroner David Masters demanded he was kept up-to-date with the implementation of the recommendations.
The serious case review recommended better communication between the agencies which had been involved in the case: the police, Swindon Primary Care Trust, Swindon and Marlborough NHS Trust and Swindon Borough Council.
In the last year of his life, Scott was admitted to hospital 28 times with diabetic problems, and on one occasion he was taken to intensive care.
On Wednesday the inquest was told by Great Western Hospital consultant Dr Sahid Ahmed that he thought Scott deliberately failed to take his insulin and ate inappropriate foods in order to get admitted to hospital.
In July 2004 a member of the hospital staff recorded Scott saying he wished to spend his birthday, which was on August 15, in hospital.
Scott spent his birthday in the paediatric ward. Mr Masters could not conclude exactly when he was discharged due to gaps in hospital documentation, though he thought it was probably August 16. Scott was never seen alive again.
His body was retrieved on September 7, but the pathologist who conducted the post-mortem examination estimated that he had died more than five days previously.
Scott's parents had lost touch with him after a violent incident at their home in Moredon in February.
Scott's social worker Richard Tonge said he had a conversation with Mrs Slipper on July 30, 2004, in which she said "she washed her hands of him."
Mrs Slipper denied the accusation. She said: "I would never wash my hands of my kids.
"I wanted him back home on the understanding we got the help we needed from social services."
Scott's parents also said they never received letters sent by Mr Tonge advising that they take Scott back into their home.
Returning a narrative verdict, Swindon coroner David Masters said: "Scott was a very troubled young man who had difficulties coping with his condition.
"He was treading that fine line between life and death."
Nobody knows what we went though'
FOR Lance and Paulene Slipper the verdict on Scott's death draws a line under almost two years of pain.
"We can get his death certificate and scatter his ashes now," said Mrs Slipper after the inquest.
"We're going to scatter his ashes in Cornwall. We went there every year and he loved it. He was always so happy."
However, the couple, who have two other sons, expressed disappointed at the verdict.
Mrs Slipper added: "If he was in hospital that many times why weren't we, as the next of kin, informed?"
The Slippers said they never received letters sent by Scott's social worker advising them that they should take him back after he had run away.
Mr Slipper said: "Nobody knows what we went through ourselves. We were given no assistance from any authorities.
"We just needed some support because of what he was doing.
"Our family has been let down by social services.
"If the recommendations in the report were there in 2004, there's a chance Scott would still be with us."
10:31am Friday 21st July 2006
By Marcus Leroux
Summer Lytle Phelps ,4-year-old
On Saturday morning, Adriana Lytle, 32, went into a tirade, and accused her four-year-olddevelopmentally disabledstepdaughter, Summer Lytle, of urinating on some clothing and towels. As punishment, Lytle put the little girl in front of the bathtub and demanded she clean the soiled linens. For ten straight hours, Lytle forced the little girl to scrub the clothes over and over again. At about 9 p.m., Lytle, still dissatisfied with the state of the clothing, put her foot on Summer's back and pushed the little girl into the tub. When Lytle returned to check on her later that evening, she found Summer unresponsive in the dirty water.
Lytle and Summer's father, Jonathan D. Lytle, 28, both attempted to resuscitate the little girl, but they were unable to revive her. Summer's father then took the girl to Deaconess Medical Center, where she was pronounced dead on arrival. Hospital staff notified the police, who immediately took Jonathan Lytle into custody. At about midnight, investigators went to the Lytle home, and arrested Adriana Lytle. They also took custody of the couple's 8-month-old son, and placed him in foster care.
According to police reports filed with the Spokane County District Court, both Jonathan and Adriana Lytle admitted to severely punishing Summer. Lytle said that Summer's biological mother had dropped her off for a visit in August, but never came back to get her. The abuse had been ongoing for the last seven months.
"This included the use of a dog's training shock collar, beatings with leather belts, beatings with spoons, and making Summer tear pizza boxes into tiny pieces," the police reports said. "Both said the shock collar was used about five or six times, but did not seem to have the desired effect."
The report also said that Jonathan told police that Summer was a "difficult child" and that she was abusive. "Jon said he was aware that Adriana had recently bitten Summer after Summer had kicked Adriana in the chin... Adriana described Summer as defiant, a 'handful' and destructive and she wished Summer had never come to live with them."
"This is the worst case I've ever seen, and my detectives feel the same," Sgt. Joe Peterson of the department's major crimes unit told CBS News yesterday. "It's probably the worst case of abuse that any of us in hundreds of combined years in this unit have ever seen."
According to Peterson, an autopsy is currently being conducted on Summer. However, he stressed that"there are extensive injuries, so the autopsy is going to take a long time."
Adriana Lytle has a pretty descriptive profile on MySpace.com. She claims to be a 1992 graduate of Arroyo Grande High, in California, and she lists her television interests as "all the CSI shows." In the about me section, she describes her marriage and the recent addition to her family.
"There is more to me than I think anyone ever wants to know. I am a happily married (newlywed as of March 10, 2006) woman. I am also a new mom to my husband's 4-year-old daughter Summer. We also had a son on July 6, 2006. We gave Summer a baby brother on her 4th birthday. Our son is Jonathan David Lytle, II. We call him Jonny for short. We are currently saving up to move out of state..."
There are only four entries in her MySpace blog. The first was on January 23, 2006, when she posted the results of a survey she took. Other than the fact that she listed her maiden name as Adriana Lea Midwood, the only point of interest in this particular entry is a survey question that asked if she had ever been beaten up. Her reply was: "Unfortunately yes- reason I moved to WA."
OnMarch 15, 2006, she made a more telling entry in her blog, describing her marriage to Jonathan Lytle.
"Well I am now a married woman. It took me 31 years but I finally found the man of my dreams.His nameis Jon. He is younger then me of course. LOL. But only by 4 years. We are expecting a son on July 3, 2006. We got married March 10, 2006. So for those of you trying to do the math, I was 6 months pregnant on our wedding day... When we got married I became a step-mom to his 3-year-old daughter Summer. She has the same red hair as her daddy. And she is the sweetest little girl. Her mom is another story, but we won't go there! LOL.
"We just had a little ceremony at the courthouse, which is a block from us. Our judge's name was Judge Tripp. Yea it was a trip that we got married. This is the first and only marriage for both of us as neither one of us believe in divorce. I am so glad I never settled for any of the losers I was with. I ended up finding the perfect man. He completes me. Both of our families are really happy for us too."
She waited almost an entire year before posting again. Oddly enough, the post was made this past Friday, the day before she and her husband were arrested for her stepdaughter's murder.
"Well I can't believe it but my husband and I have been married a year on March 10, 2007. I guess what they say is true. Time flies when you are having fun. Seems like we just got married. My husband couldn't believe it's been a year already. He asked to see the wedding certificate to be sure. LOL. Everything has been going great. I look forward to the many years to come and wonder if they will go as fast. I hope not. I relish every moment I spend and have with him."
Less than a half hour later, she posted her final blog entry, which she titled: "A Poem I wrote in 2002"
You Told Me You Loved Me
You told me you loved me,
you told me a lie.
You sat there and laughed,
as you watched me cry.
Did the love we have,
was it really that bad?
Why didn't you fight,
you had that right.
Just throw our love away,
what more is there to say?
I know it can't be true,
are you really that much of a fool?
You told me you loved me,
you told me a lie.
You told me you cared,
now you wish I would die.
But as I sit here thinking about all the lies I bought,
thinking of the times we fought,
How was I to know that you would really go?
In the previous post, she did not appear to be having marital problems, so her reasons for posting the poem are unclear. She makes no other comment about it.
WhileLytle did not make much use of her blog, visitors to her profile have started to fill it with comments of their own. While most of the posts are too vulgar to quote here, a user with the screen name Shiki seemed to sum up everyone's thoughts in a post she or he left yesterday:
"Hearing the way you tortured and mistreated Summer makes me feel sick," Shiki wrote. "I cannot imagine treating another living creature the way you treated that child. 4 years old... how could the two of you live with yourselves? I cannot fathom the hell this little girl suffered at the people who were supposed to be loving her. Remarkably evil doings. The fact that you wrote this blog the day before Summer died is terrible. Everything is going great...yea real great."
Adriana Lytle also had a profile on Sparkleroad.com, where she listed herself in the category "Singles interested in Dance clubs." She described herself as astay at home mom and housewife, with "Middle of the Road" political views. She has two photos on the website and her last login date was January 5.
Another profile can be found on Yahoo.com. The standard information is the same as the other profiles. In the latest news section, she talks about the birth of her son. "Love ya with ALL my heart Jon!!! I had a healthy baby boy on July 6th!! He is the center of our world!!!" Her last login to that site is listed as January 9.
In October of 2006, CPS investigated a report that Summer was being neglected. Nonetheless, they found no cause for action, and the case was closed. Yesterday, in an interview with The Spokesman-Review, Kathy Spears, a spokeswoman for the Washington Department of Social and Human Services, defended her department's actions.
"Usually we close a case when the threat of abuse or neglect is diminished," Spears said. "Nobody called in saying they had seen this child covered in bruises. I'm not going to second-guess what happened with this investigation."
Therein lies the problem. She's not going to "second-guess" what happened. One would think that is exactly what her and her agency would do in a situation like this. Unfortunately, it is all too easy to move on without looking back.
Jonathan and Adriana L. Lytle have been charged with homicide by abuse. Both remain in the Spokane County jail in lieu of posting $500,000 bond each.
EL RENO, Okla. -- Preliminary autopsy findings show a 2-year-old El Reno girl who was found with a string of beads wrapped around her throat died from asphyxiation by strangulation.
El Reno police Lieutenant Van Gillock says investigators are calling Jezebel Donnell's death suspicious. The girl is the daughter of Jesse Donnell and Casie Basford, whose 4-month-old daughter died in October 2005 from sudden infant death syndrome. Police say Basford failed to show up Wednesday for a polygraph test and plans to speak to an attorney before giving an interview with police about the child's death.
"My two-year-old great-niece, Jezebel Donenll, died January 14, 2007. Three reports were made to DHS. The mother had been in the hospital 3 times (3 different hospitals) since September, 2006 for mental health issues. She had also tested positive for methamphetamine use during her 2nd hospital stay. She was also making numerous emergency room visits to get pain pills. She was also receiving DHS benefits and supposedly attending school, which she very seldom did. January 1st, the DHS benefits were cutoff because she had not been attending school. DHS did not once check on the welfare of Jezebel.Daily Oklahoman -- Thu January 25, 2007 Strangulation cited in death of 2-year-old El Reno girl found with beads around neck, authorities say.By Robert Medley Staff Writer EL RENO ? A 2-year-old girl who died at home Jan. 14 was found with a string of beads wrapped around her throat, El Reno police said Thursday. Preliminary findings show Jezebel Donnell likely died from asphyxiation by strangulation, police said. Investigators are calling her death suspicious, Lt. Van Gillock said. The girl was the daughter of Jesse Donnell, 27, and Casie L. Basford, 25. Another daughter, Juliana Donnell, 4 months, died at the couple's home in October 2005. The state medical examiner's office ruled the cause of death was sudden infant death syndrome. Jesse Donnell can be heard in a 911 recording released Thursday telling a dispatcher he came home to find Jezebel unresponsive with the beads around her neck. "My girlfriend had put the baby to bed last night and I guess she had some beads or something wrapped around her neck," Jesse Donnell said to a dispatcher. Basford failed to show up Wednesday for a polygraph test, police said. She told police she plans to speak to an attorney before giving an interview about the child's death, Gillock said. Father nabbed on warrant. Police went to the couple's home at 403 N Bickford Ave. on Wednesday and arrested Jesse Donnell on an unrelated warrant, Gillock said. Jesse Donnell failed to comply with court-ordered conditions of a 2005 domestic abuse conviction, Gillock said. He received a one-year suspended sentence after pleading guilty to a misdemeanor charge, court records show. He was being held Thursday in the Canadian County jail. On the 911 recording, Jesse Donnell is heard telling the dispatcher, "I lost one to SIDS last year. I don't want to ... I don't want to lose another one ... Please hurry, please." Jezebel was dead when emergency workers arrived." -Ellen Landgraf -
Dwight Hill ,4-month-old
Tucson woman on trial in death of 4-month-old foster child
Four-month-old Dwight Hill died 11 days after he was placed in the care of Guadalupe Y. Gomez, a state-licensed foster parent.
During opening arguments today in Gomez's trial on a charge of felony child abuse, her attorney said she had done nothing to contribute to Dwight's death in November 2005.
But prosecutor Nicol Green told the jury the baby died "in a way no person should have to endure."
A Pima County coroner's autopsy report indicated the baby died of blunt-force trauma, bleeding in the brain and a fractured skull.
Gomez's trial comes less than three weeks after a preliminary hearing to determine whether a foster parent couple should be tried on charges of felony child abuse in the death of a 16-month-old girl in their care for less than a month in 2005.
The judge has yet to rule in that case.
In Dwight Hill's case, West said Gomez thought the boy was asleep in his baby carrier when she took him to a doctor appointment three days after she noticed he appeared ill.
Green said that on Nov. 16, 2005, Gomez did not indicate to anyone that the baby needed immediate medical care.
At the time, his fatal injury had already taken place, Green said.
She said Gomez covered the baby with a blanket as she read a magazine for 45 minutes in the doctor's office until the doctor was ready to examine the baby.
When the blanket was removed, the doctor saw immediately that the baby was not breathing and was dead, Green said.
Dwight was born two months premature, addicted to cocaine, and was taken into state custody shortly after birth.
Child Protective Services placed the baby with Casa de Los Niños.
After several months, the infant was placed in Gomez's care by La Paloma Family Services, a state contractor that screens and licenses foster parents.
Gomez was already caring for three other foster children, two of them 2-years-old, and her own son, who is disabled by cerebral palsy.
In court documents, she listed her occupation as "foster parent."
Foster parents receive a state subsidy of about $30 a day for each foster child living in their home.
All the foster children were removed from her custody after her arrest in November 2005.
Her state license was revoked by CPS, and she said in court documents that she has been unable to get a job since she was charged with felony child abuse in the boy's death.
Her husband Robert Gomez listed his occupation as "unemployed" in court documents.
He filed divorce papers against his wife last year, but the divorce action was dismissed recently because there had been no activity in the case for at least two months.
Before the start of the trial, Gomez's attorney, Steven West, asked the court not to allow her criminal history to be introduced in this case and the court agreed.
The criminal history has been sealed by court order.
A charge of murder against Gomez in the baby's death was dismissed without prejudice, meaning the charge could be refiled. And two counts of felony child abuse in Dwight Hill's death were combined so that she now faces one felony count in this trial.
The Daily Camera used that trial as a springboard for deeper exploration of the social service and criminal justice systems in Colorado, by asking the question: Who protects those who can't protect themselves?
Tanner Dowler's paternal grandparents asked for help point-blank when they sent a letter to the Boulder County Department of Social Services on Aug. 26, 2002. Their grandson had been born two weeks earlier, but they didn't know where he lived or how his parents could care for him when they couldn't even support themselves. Joseph and Audra Dowler never got that help.
Tanner Dowler was born to Audra and Joseph Dowler on Aug. 10, 2002, at the Platte Valley Medical Center in Brighton.
The family lived in a cramped and dingy trailer unnoticed by most until Oct.3, when the infant was taken to Community Medical Center of Lafayette because he was lethargic and would not eat.
Doctors reported Tanner suffered from 11 broken ribs, two broken arms, two broken legs, burns to his feet and brain damage.
Audra, then 19, and Joseph, then 34, were interrogated and then arrested by authorities.
Tanner was baptized a few days before Oct. 12, when his grandparents decided to terminate life-support systems and he subsequently died. He was 9 weeks old.
His mother is now serving a 10-year prison sentence, and his father is charged with first-degree murder.
Editor's note: On Nov. 24, 2003, a jury found Joseph Dowler guilty of child abuse resulting in death and seven other charges associated with the October 2002 death of his 9-week-old son, Tanner.
Tyler Westbrook 2-year-old
Died January 26 2007
Foster father arrested in child's death
FARMINGTON, N.M. --A Farmington man is charged with child abuse and child abuse resulting in death in the death of a 2-year-old foster child in his care.
Michael Wilson, 31, was arrested Thursday in the death of Tyler Westbrook.
The toddler had been taken to San Juan Regional Medical Center on Jan. 26 where he was pronounced dead.
Wilson told detectives the child suffered from a heart condition that was to be addressed the next week.
However, a police investigation discovered that wasn't true.
Posted: 2/9/2007 12:26:00 PM
Man pleads not guilty in child's death
By Rhys Saunders The Daily Times
Article Launched: 05/01/2007 12:00:00 AM MDT
FARMINGTON ? A 31-year-old Farmington man accused of smothering his foster son to death did not sport a county jail-issued orange jumpsuit Monday in District Court when he pleaded not guilty to all charges in connection with the child's death.
Michael Wilson instead sat in the court gallery while waiting to appear before District Judge John Dean because the accused killer was released April 25 from the San Juan County Detention Center on a $70,000 cash-only bond.
Wilson denied charges of child abuse resulting in death, a first-degree felony, and a criminal count of third-degree felony child abuse, both stemming from the foster father's reported involvement in the death of 2-year-old Tyler Westbrook.
If convicted of both charges, he faces life in prison.
Police believe Wilson smothered Westbrook at around 11 a.m. Jan. 26 after putting the child to sleep at his Farmington home. Wilson initially told detectives he didn't want Westbrook to "suffer any longer" from a respiratory viral infection, but later admitted the boy was not suffering badly.
However, Wilson's attorney, Ron Brambl, previously argued during a Magistrate Court preliminary hearing that he believed his client's admission was coerced by detectives. Detectives later denied the allegation.
During Wilson's arraignment Monday, Brambl asked the judge to allow his client to leave the state in order to stay with his parents. Dean ordered Brambl to file a motion with the court, adding Wilson is not to have any contact with his alleged victim's family members as a condition of his release.
Assistant District Attorney David Ottman, who is prosecuting the case, opposed the request to travel out of state because of the crime's severity.
"If someone decides they're not going to appear for a court hearing while they're out of state, that's quite a process to get them back," he said.
Defense and prosecuting attorneys still are awaiting an official cause of Westbrook's death, Ottman said. An official cause of death will not be determined until medical investigators in Albuquerque complete a toxicology report.
Wilson's attorney recently filed two motions pertaining to confidentiality matters.
If granted, one of the two motions would prohibit Wilson's wife, Nicole, a records clerk for the Farmington Police Department, from testifying against her husband, Ottman said.
"There's a privilege for communication between a husband and wife," Ottman said. "That rule states you don't want to pit a husband and wife against each other in a criminal matter, so a person accused of a crime can say, anything I told her, she can't testify about.'"
The prosecutor said his office opposed the motion because it does not apply when two spouses share property or a child.
"The state will seek to have the court not recognize that privilege," Ottman said.
Brambl also filed a motion to keep private any conversations with physicians.
"There are exceptions to that privilege as well," the prosecutor said. "Anything the physician would have to report by law, such as incidents relating to child abuse, would be exempt from that privilege."
Brambl filed a third motion requesting records from the state's Child, Youth and Families Department, which oversees matters involving foster parents.
"CYFD can release records, but they need a judge's order to do so," Ottman said. "That's just an internal policy."
The prosecutor said Brambl has not filed any motions pertaining to Wilson's competency.
Wilson is scheduled to appear July 23 in District Court for a pretrial conference.
Farmington police said that in an interview that Wilson admitted to suffocating the boy.
William Adams 3-year-old
Waiting too long
William Adams didn't survive childhood, though there were many warning signs that he was in danger.
In April 2002, 3-year-old William died in a Centreville house fire. His mother had a long history of drug use and neglect during years of involvement with DCFS, yet her children were allowed to remain in her care, according to a child death report.
The mother, Rosie Rainey, gave birth to three children before William was born. Two tested positive for cocaine at birth, according to the state report. Three weeks after the birth of her second child, Rainey took her 3-year-old daughter to a hospital emergency room where the infant was found to be suffering from gonorrhea.
Authorities never charged anyone with sexual assault of the toddler.
William also tested positive for cocaine at birth. The DCFS referred the mother to a drug treatment program, but she attended only sporadically and was kicked out, the report stated.
In August 2000, Centreville Police Officer Pat Reliford found Rainey's four children home alone. He found the oldest child, a 6-year-old girl, cooking for her younger siblings. Police charged Rainey with child endangerment.
As required by state law, Reliford called the state child abuse hot line. DCFS took the children into protective custody but later returned them and assigned a second caseworker to the family.
The state investigative report on Williams' death reported that the 14-month tenure of the second caseworker "was characterized by ineffective assessments and lapses in critical judgment."
According to the state report, the caseworker was not concerned about the threat of fire from the use of space heaters and general disarray of the house "... because the mother did not smoke cigarettes."
But Rainey did use drugs, and one afternoon, while she slept, William's older brother found a lighter and accidentally set some blankets on fire, according to a police report.
The older boy tried to awaken his mother to help William escape the smoky and burning bedroom, but Rainey, who admitted to using crack a few days earlier and smoking marijuana the night before, slept on.
Finally, she awoke and tried to rescue the trapped boy, but it was too late.
"I heard William screaming in the room, and I kept calling to him to 'come to momma, come to momma.'"
Four more investigators have been added to the Chelsey Acorn homicide case following a flood of tips over the past week.
RCMP Const. Steve Hiscoe says officers have received upward of 30 "strong" leads regarding 14-year-old Acorn, who disappeared from her Abbotsford group home June 10 and was found dead in a shallow grave near Hope on April 8.
"Our tip phone has been quite busy," Hiscoe told the Times on Thursday. "The investigators have advised me they are quite positive leads.
"We want to get to as many if not all of the tips as quickly as possible," Hiscoe added, noting that 20 investigators are working on the case full-time. "Maybe there's one tip in there that's going to lead us in the right direction."
Hiscoe says the tips are encouraging to police, who generally have a better chance of solving a homicide closer to the date it happened. The leads are also of some comfort to Chelsey's mother, Lisa Acorn, who on Wednesday visited the gravesite where Chelsey was found.
Lisa Acorn laid flowers, photos and a crucifix near the shallow pit, then made a plea to the killer.
"I just want to know why you would do this to this little girl," Acorn, who lives in Edmonton, told The Province daily newspaper. "Whoever you are, please come forward. Face what you have done. Let Chelsey be at peace."
Lisa Acorn added that her daughter "knew a lot of people," and urged anyone who saw Chelsey after June 10 to tell police.
"Any information - it doesn't matter how little it is - anything is import right now," Acorn said. "We need to find the person that did this to my little girl. I beg you. Please come forward."
Following Chelsey's disappearance, there were unconfirmed sightings of her until the fall of 2005. Chelsey - who was part of the Abbotsford police Chronic Missing Children program - was known to frequent Abbotsford, Mission, Chilliwack and Surrey.
Police believe Chelsey was in the grave near the Carolin Mines exit off the Coquihalla Highway for "several months."
Peter L'Hirondelle, an outreach worker at the Mission Indian Friendship Centre, worked closely with Acorn for about eight months before she disappeared.
Just prior to June 10, she told him she was "getting tired of things at the group home and was going to leave."
L'Hirondelle never heard from her again. He, too, is hopeful the case can be solved.
"She was my friend," L'Hirondelle said last week, weeping.
"She would have been 15 next month [on June 5] . . . I think everybody wants [closure]."
Anyone with information on Chelsey is asked to call police at 1-866-373-7886.
published on 05/26/2006
Breanna Marie Courtney Loveless 9-month-old
Tortured to Death
The short and painful life of Breanna Loveless could have served as a lesson for Utah's embattled foster care agency ? but it hasn't.
Three years after a much publicized settlement agreement by the state of Utah and Gov. Mike Leavitt should have protected her, nine-month-old Breanna Marie Courtney Loveless was killed, or rather tortured to death.
She didn't die swiftly or mercifully, but instead found her end one painful day at a time: The infant suffered nose and ear infections; incessant diarrhea; facial bruises; broken arms; a broken leg; a broken clavicle; multiple contusions and abrasions of the face, right arm, upper chest, left hip and back, among other things.
But despite the immediate health concerns, obvious injuries and numerous other red flags, Breanna was not rescued from the environment that was killing her, although officials from the State Division of Child and Family Services (DCFS) had been advised of her peril. The question is, "why?" Why was this nine-month-old baby allowed to be abused to death?
Documents obtained by City Weekly paint a picture of confusion as well as righteous indignation within DCFS. Beyond that, an assistant Utah Attorney General says despite the needless death, lessons are not being learned at DCFS and the agency continues to leave children, like Breanna, in harm's way.
Gov. Leavitt lays the bold claim that Utah's DCFS is a model for other states. Yet the bodies of Utah children under the protection of the state's foster system continue to pile up. Since a legally binding agreement in 1994, 49 Utah children have died. According to Utah Department of Human Services (DHS), 20 children died last year, as Leavitt pronounced DCFS' new overhaul a success.
But the National Center for Youth Law (NCYL), the San Francisco-based advocacy group that brought suit against Leavitt and Utah for failing to protect foster children and those reported as abused or neglected, need only point as far as the dozens of Breanna Lovelesses to make its point: DCFS, despite an infusion of cash and a new director, is a seemingly dysfunctional system that puts what the administration calls "family" before the well being of the children in its custody.
More than five years after the U.S. District Court for Utah forced Leavitt to hammer out an agreement with NCYL, the legal battle is about to heat up again. NCYL wants the settlement agreement to be extended another two years to keep Utah and DCFS under the federal court's watchful eye and hopefully to keep more Breanna Lovelesses from being killed.
But the governor and Utah Attorney General Jan Graham want the legal agreement to expire on its August expiration date.
Meanwhile, Leavitt has gone on a public relations offensive, saying the San Francisco youth advocacy group is just a bunch of attorneys seeking $200 an hour paydays. "We're spending our money to care for children, and we'd like not to spend our money on lawyers," a miffed Leavitt scolded.
As a matter of fact, Utah has thrown over $100 million during the last four years at DCFS. Almost half of the money comes from the federal government on condition that Utah operates its child welfare system in accordance with federal law.
But nearly two decades after the Federal Child Welfare and Adoption Assistance Act of 1980, Utah is still out of compliance with federal mandates. In other words, DCFS apparently is not caring properly for foster kids and other at-risk children. What Utah does have to show for all the money is a bigger bureaucracy?49 percent more administrators and 69 percent more case workers.
Compounding the state's legal problems surrounding DCFS, is a civil lawsuit being brought by Breanna's biological father. It takes aim at Leavitt's bravado and posturing, in addition to the chronically inept DCFS. Ricky Sanders filed the suit in May against the infant's mother and step-father, Bobby and Travis Widdison; the Attorney General; the State Department of Human Services which oversees DCFS; and Breanna's case worker, Pamela Goodrich.
The suit seeks $5 million from the state and contends that DCFS workers knew that the baby was suffering from abuse and neglect at the hands of her mother and stepfather.
On January 12, 1996, Sanders and his mother, Maradeen Sanders, warned DCFS that Breanna was at risk after taking her to the emergency room with a severe nose condition, constant diarrhea, a blistered diaper rash and bruises on her face. However, DCFS caseworker Pamela Goodrich identified as unfounded their complaints of neglect and abuse.
One month later, Breanna was again taken to the emergency room. The Doctor diagnosed a broken clavicle, an untreated ear infection, numerous bruises and lacerations at different stages of healing. But again Goodrich released the baby to her mother. Then, following two days of regular visits, Bobbie Widdison refused to let the caseworker inside to see Breanna. The baby was dead within a week.
Charges of first-degree murder and multiple counts of second-degree felony child abuse were brought against Bobbie and Travis Widdison.
Rob Parrish, prosecuting attorney from the Utah Attorney General's office, prosecuted the case through its two weeks of trial. He contends that DCFS could have prevented Breanna's death.
On May 15, 1998, after seven hours of deliberation, a jury returned guilty verdicts against the pair for murder. Bobbie also was found guilty on six counts of child abuse and sentenced to 1- to 15 years in prison; Travis also was found guilty on three counts of child abuse and sentenced to 0- to 5-years in prison.
Among the stacks of fatality reviews requested by City Weekly from the Department of Human Services Fatality Review Board, was a copy of Breanna's fatality review. In addition, City Weekly obtained through an anonymous source a "protected," or non-public copy of the Fatality Review Board finding.
The protected copy goes further in describing injuries from the torture and neglect suffered by Breanna during the nine horrifying months of her life. But both documents maintain that she suffered tremendously: "Although Breanna died of pneumonia, prosecutors contend that the abuse inflicted on Breanna compromised her immune system and prevented her from surviving the pneumonia." The protected copy goes further: "In addition, there is some evidence that Breanna may have died of inflicted suffocation."
The protected finding also differs in the description of drugs being used by Bobbie Widdison. The public information copy sent by the DHS briefly describes Bobbie Widdison as having "tested positive for drugs which was only partially explained by the use of prescription drugs." But the protected copy states that Widdison "... tested positive for opiates and benzodiazopine. The positive opiate result was explained by (her) use of the pain killer Lortab, but there was no explanation for the positive result for benzodiazopines." In spite of possible drug abuse by the mother, the protected document confirms that the decision was made to release the child to her mother.
Both copies fault Goodrich for not involving police. But the protected copy goes further, painting a picture of a veteran caseworker who clearly knows little about recognizing abuse, is unaware of correct procedure and lacks proper training. For instance, one of the findings sets up a discussion for why the caseworker "did not feel empowered or have sufficient knowledge" about removing the child even though she was "highly concerned." Another finding explains that the caseworker "incorrectly believed that court involvement was required before she could insist on seeing Breanna or remove her from the home."
"It was a preventable death," Parrish says. "There was clear child abuse but they didn't see it until it was too late and that was due to inadequate training, improper procedures and confusion."
The confusion is described in the protected copy's findings section discussing the caseworker and assistant attorney general David Tibbs' failure to communicate to one another about who should make the determination to remove Breanna. Tibbs apparently thought it was Goodrich's decision. She thought it was his.
The protected document notes that members of the committee are concerned that many DCFS caseworkers feel they're being "second guessed and feel paralyzed and are willing to abdicate decision-making responsibility to others."
Efforts to contact Goodrich were unsuccessful. But City Weekly has obtained her letter of resignation to Gov. Leavitt, as well as a copy of the response from Robin Arnold-Williams, director of the Department of Human Services.
In her March 5, 1997 letter, she acknowledges her "... very deepest sorrow that I have ever known" in addressing the Breanna Loveless abuse case. She notes that when the fatality review was completed, she and her supervisor made written comments to ensure that their unit would be well trained on child protection service issues in the future.
Goodrich suggests the importance of reviewing the lawsuit settlement regularly and reiterates the importance of providing proper training. She writes that when her supervisor was "changed" the review of the settlement and training became, "... so haphazard these promises were not fulfilled." Goodrich goes on to inform the governor that when she confronted the new administration she was, "... reprimanded for being a burned-out social worker, etc."
But the letter Goodrich received back, not from the governor, but from Arnold-Williams, refuses to admit any deficiencies in the department. She apparently admonishes Goodrich, "... it is important that all division employees perform their duties in a professional manner."
The letter, dated May 16, 1997, goes on to inform Goodrich of the department's commitment to "... ensuring that all employees receive needed training in order to be competent," including a "Walk Through the System" training provided once a month for new and more experienced workers.
Arnold-Williams makes no reference to Goodrich's 10 years as a caseworker, nor does she offer condolence concerning Goodrich's resignation or the death of Breanna Loveless.
In the last line of her letter to the governor, Goodrich writes, "It would be very wrong if that child's death did not serve as a lesson to our agency in ensuring that caseworkers are well trained."
But according to Parrish and the increasing stacks of fatality reviews, lessons aren't being learned from Breanna's death or the deaths of children who have died since. For the Department of Human Services and DCFS, it's business as usual.
The tragic case of Aaren Dunn's murder raises questions of responsibility, responsiveness and the need for reform in child protective services.
On June 26, 2000, in the late afternoon, just as heavy rain was beginning to break what seemed like an endless, dry heat wave in Manitou Springs, inside a small house on the main street of the tiny mountain town, Robert W. Dunn broke his 7-year-old daughter Aaren's arm, stabbed her in the chest with a kitchen knife, then repeatedly stabbed her in the neck until she died.
Aaren's 11-year-old sister Nadine, who had endured an afternoon of terror alongside Aaren, was also under her father's grip but wrenched away, ran out of the house and down the street to the neighborhood convenience store, Tubby's Turnaround, where she screamed for help while her father continued his attack on Aaren.
Two men responded swiftly and rushed to the Dunn house. Finding the front door locked, they ran to the back of the house and entered the unlocked back door. They found Robert Dunn in the kitchen, hovering above Aaren, who lay on the kitchen floor, no longer breathing.
One witness pulled Dunn away from his daughter and dragged him to the back yard where, after a short struggle, he lay down on the grass, face down, bloodied palms up.
Within minutes, Sgt. Mary Jo Smith and Officer Michael Jon-Thomson of the Manitou Springs Police Department arrived on the scene. According to the police report filed by Sgt. Smith, when she arrived Dunn said to her, "The devil is here." Dunn then yelled, "I killed the devil. She was possessed. I killed the devil." Sgt. Smith handcuffed Dunn, then ran into the house.
A crowd gathered on the sidewalk in front of the Dunn home. A neighbor from across the street, Sandra Cross, comforted Nadine Dunn until she was taken by police to the Manitou Springs Fire Department. She waited there until her mother, Jennifer Dunn, arrived to take her to her home in Widefield.
Manitou police took Robert Dunn into custody, and their officers and an agent of the Colorado Bureau of Investigation questioned Mr. Dunn until late that night when Dunn was taken to the El Paso County Criminal Justice Center. In an extended interview, Dunn contended that the devil possessed his daughter, that the devil was here in Manitou Springs and he had no choice but to kill the devil.
In days to come, Manitou neighbors, classmates, school teachers and friends of the Dunn girls gathered to mourn Aaren's passing. A blanket was passed around and signed by all who wished to be part of a tangible memorial to the little girl.
Aaren Dunn was buried on July 3, 2000, next to her maternal grandmother, in a cemetery near Calhan.
Her death and the memorial were chronicled on television and in the local daily newspaper. Some mourners expressed their bewilderment over the circumstances of her death, asking how it could have happened right under their noses. What could have been done, some wondered aloud, to prevent the tragedy?
On July 1, Robert Dunn was moved from the El Paso County jail to the state mental hospital at Pueblo (Colorado Mental health Institute), because he threatened suicide while in custody and because the public defender assigned to the case, Deborah Grohs, wanted him placed there for psychiatric evaluation.
A competency hearing was held in which Dunn was declared competent to stand trial. On Dec. 14, in a preliminary hearing, Dunn's attorney, Grohs, entered a plea of Not Guilty by Reason of Insanity (NGRI), citing a diagnosis agreed upon by three state psychiatrists and one psychologist obtained by the public defender's office.
On Dec. 21, following brief testimony by the state hospital's chief forensic psychiatrist, Dr. David Johnson, El Paso County prosecutors Geoff Heim and John Newsome declared they had no evidence of sanity and could not, therefore, prosecute Mr. Dunn. Division V Judge Larry Schwartz, citing the prosecution's burden of proof, declared Mr. Dunn Not Guilty by Reason of Insanity.
Dunn was sent back to the state mental hospital where he was ordered to remain until he is no longer deemed a danger to himself or anyone else. Should he be deemed no longer a danger, he could be released and cannot be tried again for the crime.
That's one side of the story. But the larger story, told by Aaren's mother, Jennifer Dunn, and by a close look at the DHS record and the Manitou Springs Police Department report, is messier. Gaping holes in the initial account of events raise questions that should not be ignored by a society charged with the protection of its youngest members.
Did the Department of Human Services act appropriately, promptly and without prejudice or malice in the case of Aaren and Nadine Dunn? Did the family court system of El Paso County adequately serve to protect the Dunn girls? Was there reason to believe that Robert Dunn was a danger to his daughters prior to Aaren's murder and, if so, why were the girls allowed to remain in his custody?
Can any of us presume to know what's in a father's -- or a mother's -- heart?
Talking heads
In an e-mail addressed to the weekly Pikes Peak Journal last fall, following an account of the Dunn murder, Jennifer Dunn wrote: "To date there has been precious little in the way of a relationship with the truth in the matter of the lonesome death of Aaren Marie Dunn."
And in a civil complaint filed in U.S. District Court on August 28, 2000, Ms. Dunn charged criminal negligence and dereliction of duty by the state of Colorado, by the El Paso County Dept. of Human Services, by CASA (Court Appointed Special Advocates of El Paso County), and by individuals of all three agencies.
Almost immediately following Aaren Dunn's death, El Paso County DHS began an internal investigation to determine what, if anything, they might have missed in the Dunn case -- what, if anything, they could have done to prevent Aaren's murder at the hands of her father.
Six months later, in early January, 2001, a 12-person panel at the state of Colorado Department of Social Services exonerated El Paso County DHS of all blame, concluding that, though clerical errors occurred and reports filed by Ms. Dunn against her former husband dating back to 1996 had been overlooked by DHS in the months leading up to Aaren's murder, there was nothing the department could have done to change the outcome.
Jennifer Dunn contends that asking state DSS to investigate county DHS is "a little like asking Bill Clinton to teach a class in sexual abstinence."
She claims the county's excuse that it misplaced the early files in another family member's folder -- and thereby effectively lost them -- is bogus. Ms. Dunn says that she was told when she filed complaints of behavior by Mr. Dunn she believed to be sexual "grooming" for eventual abuse, that those complaints were inadmissible under DHS guidelines.
Ms. Dunn contends, and DHS reports confirm, that "peeping" behavior and charges involving the willful misplacement of pornography by Mr. Dunn were dismissed as unfounded and insignificant.
In the two months prior to Aaren Dunn's murder, Manitou Springs police were called three times by friends of the girls, and by personnel at Manitou Elementary School. Each time a report was filed, DHS was contacted.
Reports filed between May 1 and June 26, 2000, the day of Aaren's death, alleged physical violence, threats, bizarre behavior and rages by Robert Dunn. None of those reports individually, nor the sum of those reports, were deemed worthy of an investigation by the county into the Dunn household on Manitou Avenue where Robert Dunn finally killed his youngest daughter.
Trouble ahead, trouble behind
Robert and Jennifer Dunn married in May of 1992. It was her third marriage. In May of 1995, the Dunns separated when Jennifer fled the house and took the girls with her to the Safe House run by the Center for Prevention of Domestic Violence.
At that time, says Ms. Dunn, there "was a great deal of agitation in our marriage" related to Mr. Dunn's alleged sexual addiction and his unwillingness to seek treatment from any therapist besides one who had recently ended her private practice. "I believed it would be in the best interest of the children to prevent them from being exposed to any further domestic violence," said Ms. Dunn.
Experience with domestic violence was, unfortunately, not unknown to Jennifer Dunn. Her second husband had severely beaten her two sons by her first husband, an event noted in her DHS file. Ms. Dunn was charged with Dependency and Neglect by DHS for failing to report her husband's physical abuse, a turn of events which, she says, "got her sober." An admitted alcoholic, she stopped drinking and began attending Alcoholics Anonymous sessions religiously.
Further complicating matters, in 1993, after serious bouts with suicidal depression, Jennifer Dunn was diagnosed with bi-polar disorder and began taking lithium under a doctor's direction.
The Dunns had no legal arrangement from May of 1995, when Jennifer left, until February of 1999. The girls spent time with both parents.
During this time, in order to try to understand the dynamics of her marital difficulties with Robert Dunn, Jennifer began attending meetings of COSA, Codependents of Sex Addicts Anonymous. It was there that she began hearing of "grooming" behaviors. Close friends in the group, including Fred Stone *, a man who had been convicted of sexually molesting his own daughter and a leader of conferences for people in sex addiction recovery groups, assured her that these behaviors should not be ignored and that the potential danger to her daughters was real.
"Until you commit the crime, there's no scrutiny," said Stone. "But you've got to keep it away from the kids. In most cases, there's a serious addiction to pornography associated with molestation."
In November, 1996, a report was filed with DHS accusing Mr. Dunn of improperly exposing the children to pornography. Seven months later, Dunn was accused of inappropriately "peeping" at his young daughters while they dressed and when they were in the bathroom. Both of these complaints were filed with DHS and were considered unworthy of investigation.
Finally, in February of 1999, after Nadine Dunn once again told her mother that her father had left pornography laying around the house, Jennifer Dunn called the police, called DHS, then drove to the Manitou home of Robert Dunn where she loaded the girls in the car and took them into hiding. On Feb. 25, Mr. Dunn arrived at Ms. Dunn's Holland Park apartment with a court order and a police escort to remove Aaren and Nadine from their mother's home and return them to Manitou Springs. Jennifer Dunn was ordered to appear in court before Magistrate Jan Du Bois.
"When she asked me why I took the children, I explained the soft perp or grooming behaviors, the phone call from Nadine and the hardcore porn," said Jennifer Dunn. "Magistrate Du Bois ordered the appointment of a Court Appointed Special Advocate volunteer to conduct interviews and compile a report for the court's determination of custody."
In effect, this event marked the beginning of divorce proceedings between Robert and Jennifer Dunn.
A temporary custody arrangement placed the girls in Mr. Dunn's home Monday through Friday, and with their mother from Friday evening through Sunday.
In a report dated May 20, 1999, CASA worker Ann Beckerman stated: "Both of the parents have concerns about the ability or suitability of the other parent to be an appropriate and nurturing parent for the Dunn children."
But Ms. Beckerman's report of October 18, the final word before divorce and formal custody arrangements were handed down, said those concerns were apparently relieved. She recommended that the custody and visitation arrangement remain the same as they had been since the girls were retrieved in late February, giving Mr. Dunn primary custody of the girls.
Beckerman's report dismissed Jennifer's concern about Dunn's alleged grooming behaviors, but expressed another "main concern" -- that Jennifer Dunn was influencing Nadine's opinions and feelings about her father by making statements about him in front of the child.
Indeed, many people involved in the case believed that the children were unfairly drawn into the middle of an ugly custody battle in which each parent pitted the children against the other. One neighbor, who asked not to be named, cited "revenge and vengefulness on both parts," and said, "... from what my daughter had told me, I told a DHS worker that, in my opinion, Bob (Robert Dunn) was the better parent.
"I feel bad about that now."
Mayhem in Manitou
In the months immediately prior to Aaren Dunn's death, police calls citing violent and irrational behavior by Robert Dunn began pouring into the Manitou Springs Police Department.
On May 1, Sgt. Mary Jo Smith responded to a call from Daryl Spencer, a nearby neighbor and the grandmother of one of Nadine Dunn's closest friends.
"I had to put her up on the kitchen counter, she was shaking and crying so hard," said Spencer. "At first I couldn't understand what she was trying to say. She said, 'Our dad is going to kill us.'" Spencer went on to describe Nadine as a little girl who was usually "extremely composed ... so much so that I worry about her."
Sgt. Smith's report includes Nadine's assertion that, on some occasions, the Dunn girls had been made by their father to take their shirts off to eat dinner. Nadine complained of unsanitary conditions at home, of flies and dirty dishes. Sgt. Smith contacted the counselor at Manitou Springs Elementary, where the girls attended school, to inquire if the school had received any similar complaints. The respondent said yes, and that she was going to notify the Department of Human Services, requesting that the case on the Dunns be reopened.
The next day, May 2, another Manitou Springs police officer responded to a call, this time by a child who reported she feared for the safety of her friends, Nadine and Aaren Dunn, who were not being allowed to leave their house. When the friend came by to visit that day, according to the police report, "she stated she could hear her friends crying and yelling inside the residence."
The officer, along with Sgt. Smith, contacted the Dunn girls by phone and were told their father was across the street at Manitou Liquors. (Dunn was owner and manager of that business for 13 years.)
Mr. Dunn met the officers at the house and invited them in to take a look. It was noted that the place was "extremely cluttered" and that dirty dishes were lying about. Sgt. Smith related her concerns of abuse to the girls, to which Mr. Dunn replied by asking his daughters "when was the last time they received a spanking." When they said, in front of the officers, that it had been about a year ago, Mr. Dunn then proceeded to tell the officers that the girls wanted to "live with their mother, Jennifer Dunn," and because of this, "his daughters are trying to make him look like a bad father." The police advised Mr. Dunn to improve the cleanliness of his home and he agreed.
On May 26, Manitou police received another complaint from a friend of the Dunn girls who called from a pay phone. The caller said she was afraid her friend was being hurt by her father, Robert Dunn. The investigating officer, Lt. Jerry Johnson, responded to the call, visited the Dunn home and concluded that, although Nadine Dunn claimed her father hit her that morning, there were no corroborating marks and that it apeared the girl "would rather live with her mother and has enlisted the aid of her friends to make complaints against her father."
In nearly illegible, often undated reports, Department of Human Services workers indicate that each of these calls received a follow-up by the department. In a report following the May 1 complaint, a DHS case worker relates her conversation with Nadine Dunn in which the girl said: "Dad loved me as a baby, but doesn't now."
The report goes on to state that after Nadine's friend called the police, "Dad demanded to know who called -- shook fist in her face." On that same day, Nadine told the case worker that once "a long, long time ago," her father tried to suffocate Aaren, and that her father "goes into rages."
A DHS account date May 31, 2000, relates a report by a staff member at Manitou Elementary School, stating that Aaren Dunn had told school personnel, "she wants Dad to stop hitting." The informant expressed concerns about the children and asked that the case be kept open. She went on to say that the "last time DHS [was] out, [the] child got blamed by Dad."
But about halfway through, this report, like Ann Beckerman's, takes a turn and begins raising suspicions about the involvement of Jennifer Dunn in the children's complaints, especially Nadine's. The case worker says that Nadine Dunn, also interviewed on that day, "worried Dad may kill her as she has heard what some child abusers have done ..." The case worker's clear assumption is that the suggestion of child abuse was planted by Nadine's mother.
Both girls, on this day, stated that they could talk to their mother about things, and that they would prefer living with her. When pressed to explain why, the report says, the girls said they didn't know.
The case worker concludes: "... Mom really dysfunctional ... Mom bi-polar and really needs to take meds ..." Elsewhere in the DHS record, on at least two occasions, Jennifer Dunn is negatively characterized for her flat affect, including during the days immediately following Aaren's death. In notes added to the DHS record on June 26, CASA workers complained that Jennifer Dunn "had so many meetings she did not have time for [her] kids."
Jennifer Dunn contends that following the Dependency and Neglect charge involving her older sons, she spent four years trying to take control of her personal problems and trying to protect her daughters from abuse and neglect. "I knew that I was powerless to stop the evil that this man was going to unleash on my daughters," she said. "But I told Nadine, 'You have to tell Ms. Jones (a Manitou Springs Elementary School employee) if things are happening to you.'"
On June 7, less than three weeks before the day Robert Dunn killed Aaren, a DHS report was filed that recommended closing the case.
The social worker states: "Sgt. Johnson said that the only calls they (the Manitou Springs Police Dept.) have received on the family has (sic) been from children. Sgt. J. elaborated that no adults have called on concerns about Nadine and Aaren. Sgt. J. said that he thinks Nadine and a couple of other children in the neighborhood have gotten together on plan to call [the police]. Sgt. J. used the word 'conspiracy.'"
The report concludes with a recommendation of counseling for Nadine for which Robert Dunn, apparently, offered his verbal consent.
Not guilty by reason of insanity
When Robert Dunn was first taken into Emergency Protective Custody at the state mental hospital in Pueblo, and for several weeks afterward, he was characterized by Dr. David Johnson as "extremely psychotic."
Over the next two months, Dr. Johnson reviewed the Manitou Springs Police Department reports, the CBI agent report, an interview conducted with Nadine Dunn following the murder, the DHS report, various toxicology reports, Dunn's records from a former hospitalization in the 1970s (for substance abuse), and interviews with employees from Manitou Liquors.
Based on those reports, on interviews with Mr. Dunn and on the corroboration of two other state psychiatrists, Dr. Johnson concluded that "Mr. Dunn's psychotic symptoms seemed authentic." His diagnosis: bi-polar disorder with psychotic features.
On Dec. 26, Dr. Johnson testified before Division V El Paso County Court Judge Larry Schwartz, Public Defender Deborah Grohs, deputy District Attorneys Geoff Heim and John Newsome, and a handful of onlookers, in support of Mr. Dunn's plea of Not Guilty by Reason of Insanity.
On the possibility of malingering (basically, faking psychotic symptoms), Dr. Johnson testified that Mr. Dunn's particularly grisly method of killing his daughter matched other cases he had seen of defendants who believed they had "killed the devil." As for possible motive, perhaps covering up evidence of sexual abuse against his daughters as had been suggested by Dunn's former wife, Johnson concluded there was "no substantial evidence to support that."
Johnson went on to testify that on the day of the offense, Dunn made his daughters undress and would not let them go to the bathroom, but this behavior was presented as evidence of his psychotic break, not of sexually aberrant behavior.
Not mentioned by Dr. Johnson was a section of Dunn's interview with the Colorado Bureau of Investigation on the day of the murder, where amidst explanations of how he had killed the devil which had entered Aaren Dunn's body, Robert Dunn admitted that he too removed his clothes that day.
"We all had our clothes off," he said. "We were having a good old time." Dunn explained that he wanted the girls to be naked to get over "bad" feelings they had gotten, allegedly from Jennifer Dunn and her common-law husband, Dale Abernathey. In the same interview, Dunn characterized Jennifer as a "dysfunctional wife ... either crazy or an alcoholic or both ... worse than bipolar."
None of this testimony was raised as evidence at the hearing.
"Your honor," concluded deputy D.A. Newsome, "in all candor, the people have no evidence of sanity."
Judge Schwartz, who called the crime a "horrendous, horrible tragedy, in many respects beyond description," cited the statutory burden of the prosecution to disprove insanity and concluded that "except for some lay evidence that may have been disclosed should there have been a trial, indicating certain opinions about Mr. Dunn," there was no evidence of sanity. Schwartz declared Dunn NGRI.
Never mentioned in court was a telephone conversation that took place the hour before the murder between Mr. Dunn and the girls' therapist, Kathy Varrone.
Because Mr. Dunn had failed to take the girls to their court-ordered therapy session with Varrone earlier in the day, the therapist, at about 4 p.m. on June 26, called the Dunn household.
Aaren answered with Nadine standing next to her. According to DHS notes compiled after the murder, one of the girls told Varrone their Dad had said "there was a murderer on the loose." According to the report, Robert Dunn then got on the line and, presumably sounding normal, agreed that he would bring the girls to therapy "same time next week." The girls told Varrone "Dad doesn't want us to go out." The therapist made a note to talk to Dunn about not scaring the kids to control their behavior. An hour later, Aaren was dead.
Following the handing down of the judge's ruling, Dale Abernathey read aloud a statement by Jennifer Dunn, reiterating her attempts to report Robert Dunn to DHS and specifiying her suspicions about him.
But public defender Grohs got the last word, objecting strongly to the statement, indicating that the "relationship between Mr. and Mrs. Dunn was a big custody battle," and declaring "all allegations made to DHS [by Ms. Dunn] were found to be unfounded."
"The bigger tragedy," Grohs said, "would be to think this man does not love his daughters. He loves them very much."
One week later, from the mental hospital in Pueblo, Robert Dunn tried to demonstrate that love by sending a Christmas card to his surviving daughter, Nadine Dunn, addressed to her mother's home.
Nothing to lose
On Jan. 4, 2001, Jennifer Dunn was granted a stay in the proceedings of her civil complaint filed in U.S. District Court, pending acquisition of an attorney. As of this date, no legal counsel has stepped forward.
Ms. Dunn believes a Supreme Court ruling from 1989, DeShaney vs. Winnebago Cy., is the major hindrance in pursuing legal action against the various agents of the state she accuses of failing to protect her daughters, causing irreparable harm.
The petitioner in DeShaney was a young boy (via his Guardian Ad Litem) beaten so severly by his father after repeated reports to Winnebago County Department of Social Services in Wisconsin, that he was rendered permanently severely mentally retarded.
The lawsuit charged that the respondents, by failing to intervene to protect him, had deprived the boy of his "liberty interest in bodily integrity," thereby his rights under the 14th Amendment's Due Process clause.
In a split decision, U.S. Supreme Court justices ruled for the respondent. "A state's failure to protect an individual against private violence does not constitute a violation of the Due Process Clause," the summary read. "The Clause is phrased as a limitation on the State's power to act, not as a guarantee of certain minimal levels of safety and security; while it forbids the State itself to deprive individuals of life, liberty and property without due process of law, its language cannot fairly be read to impose an affirmative obligation on the State to ensure that those interests do not come to harm through other means."
In August of 2000, despite stated reservations by El Paso County DHS workers who questioned whether Nadine should remain with her mother, the court granted Jennifer sole and permanent parental responsibility for her surviving daughter. Ironically, the ruling was handed down by District X Judge Douglas Anderson, the same judge who, in November of 1999, had granted primary custody of the Dunn girls to their father, Robert.
"We've been in this battle for years," said Ms. Dunn in a recent interview. "The only thing that makes any sense is to believe we're safe now.
"I have a satisfied mind. I have nothing to lose by continuing to tell the story -- I've already lost my daughter. And I don't need to defend myself. All I was doing was the job of defying people who abuse kids.
"No matter what happens in the legal outcome, should there be one, they will never silence me because I'm gonna live to be a very healthy and very vocal old lady.
"The truth will be repeated," said Jennifer Dunn. "So help us God."
Authorities in New York City thought Caprice Reid wasn't being properly supervised by her mother. So they decided to "put the child first" and put the child in foster care. They made a "child focused" decision. They "erred on the side of the child." Eleven months after placement in her third foster home, Caprice Reid, then age four, was dead.
Death did not come quickly. She was starved. She was dehydrated. And her body was covered with bruises. Police say she was tied to a chair and beaten with a stick for four days until she could no longer walk.
The foster home was licensed by one of the scores of private agencies that handle foster care for the city in the midst of a sudden shortage of foster home beds caused by the city's decision to effectively abandon family preservation. The home was licensed even though another agency had found the home unfit just a few months earlier.
Maryah Ponce 3-year-old
I thought I was doing the right thing by putting them in foster care.
Tina Ponce thought she was doing the right thing.She was suffering from bipolar disorder and couldn't take care of her children.She also was too poor to get the help that a middle class family can count on.So she did the only thing she could think of: She asked the State of California to keep her children in foster care until she got better. Rather than provide Ponce with mental health services, the state "put the children first."They made a "child-focused decision."They "erred on the side of the child," and gladly threw the children into foster care. "I had five kids, I was alone, I didn't have any money, Ponce said."I thought it would be a temporary thing.I didn't think they would be in the system that long or it would be that hard to get them back."
But when Ponce was better, she found it was much harder to get her children back than to get the state to take them. One day, while Ponce still was jumping through hoop after hoop in order to get her children back, she saw a television news story about a little girl who died after being left in her foster mother's car in 100 degree heat.
It was her three-year-old daughter, Maryah.
"Even in my confusion, I never jeopardized my children's safety or health," Ponce said."If I had them, this wouldn't have happened.I thought I was doing the right thing by putting them in foster care.
Nicholas Rhea Hoffert 3-month-old
soon-to-be-adopted
Grand jury members handed up a five-count indictment against David Michael Giddens Tuesday afternoon, including a capital murder charge. The indictment includes counts of capital murder, murder, felony murder, injury to a child and injury to a child by omission.
District Attorney Dale Hanna said the capital murder charge carries a maximum sentence of death or life in prison without parole. Hanna said Giddens' trial will probably not get underway until next year.
Giddens' attorney, Dick Turner, could not be reached for comment.
Cleburne police arrested Giddens, 42, Feb. 10 on a charge of injury to a child by omission resulting in death Feb. 8 after his soon-to-be-adopted son died, possibly while under Giddens' care. Cleburne police Sgt. Amy Knoll said Giddens was charged with injury by omission for failing to seek medical attention for the child after he had knowledge of the injuries.
The deceased infant, 3-month-old Nicholas Rhea Hoffert, was one of twin boys the Giddens family was adopting. The twins were born Nov. 19 in Michigan and brought to Cleburne on Christmas Eve by the family.
Four counts of Tuesday's indictment charge Giddens with, "striking Nicholas Hoffert with or against an object unknown to the grand jury, which caused the death of an individual, namely Nicholas Hoffert."
Preliminary investigations into Hoffert's death revealed no signs of foul play until the Johnson County Medical Examiner's Office notified police after discovering the infant had sustained head injuries at or near the time of death, Knoll said.
A subsequent examination of the other twin, Gary Michael Hoffert, revealed seven broken ribs, leg fractures and bruises.
Last February, Judge C.C. "Kit" Cooke, sitting in for Judge Wayne Bridewell in the 249th District Court, ruled Nicholas' remains be returned to Michigan for burial. Gary was returned there for placement in a foster home or adoption.
Cooke also ordered the adopted 9-year-old daughter of Giddens and his wife, Latresa Giddens, be returned to her mother.
Giddens is being held at the Johnson County Corrections Center on a bail of $150,000.
Matt Smith can be reached at
817-645-2441, ext. 2339, or msmith@trcle.com.
Virgil Wagner 7-year-old
May 12, 2003,Colorado
"The father of a boy who drowned in an Adams County pond two months ago was arrested Wednesday, accused of running one of the largest meth production operations in Colorado history. William Fred Wagner, 44, was one of five people arrested when the Adams County SWAT team and North Metro Drug Task Force raided Wagner's home in the 8300 block of Ulster Street. Authorities also removed two teenagers from the home, ages 15 and 16."
Ingold describes the previous drowning: "In May, investigators said, Wagner was home when his son, 7-year-old Virgil, splashed into a muddy retaining pond across the street from his house, got stuck in the mud and drowned... The day after Virgil died, the farmer who owns the property [where] the pond sits put a fence around the water."
Certainly this is a tragic case, and we may contemplate the possible connections. To his credit, Ingold did not sensationalize the story, and he asked the right questions: "Moriarty said she couldn't say whether meth was a factor in Virgil's drowning. 'All I can say is, meth users pay more attention to their drug addictions than their children," she said'."
However, Ingold also did not attempt to offer much context. Is there a causal connection between the meth production and the drowning? Possibly. But surely both those things were caused by people living a fundamentally irresponsible life-style. It would be as silly to blame the death on meth as it would be to blame drunk driving on the mere existence of alcohol.
Leila Hoefer 8-month-old
Lena. Died Jan. 8, 2004
Her mother's boyfriend, Bradford Brush, burned and bruised Leila. Afterward, three DCFS investigators worked the case separately. The first limited the probe to an interview with the mother, who denied inflicting the injuries. The investigator accepted the mother's statement that she knew Brush only by his nickname. The second investigator failed to check a state child abuse computer. This contained a local police report that Leila's biological father told an officer that Brush, who he knew had a drug conviction, was often inebriated while caring for Leila. The same DCFS investigator later talked to Brush but got the spelling of his name wrong. This resulted in a failure to obtain Brush's criminal record. A third investigator made a subsequent record check that showed Brush has been convicted of violent crimes. But this check wasn't made until weeks later -- on the morning Leila died. Brush was sentenced in 2004 to 11 years for involuntary manslaughter.
DCFS DISCIPLINE: An investigator received discipline.
Dakota Jean Hedger 5-months-old
Died October 2000, Carrier Mills,IL
Before Dakota was born, a call to the state child abuse hot line about the Hedger family alleged substandard living conditions. The assigned investigator interviewed the family and arranged for the father, Daniel Hedger, to receive alcohol treatment. A second hot line call, four months after Dakota was born, alleged that the mother attempted suicide and failed to give proper care to the child, who was born with lung disease that required the use of oxygen. The mother denied the allegations. A second investigator determined that despite the hot line call, everything was OK. Two weeks later, Dakota came to the hospital suffering from numerous injuries, including "friction burns on her nose, a bruise on her left ear, a puncture wound on the bottom of her foot, a split lip, fingertip bruises on her back and a tear on the underside of her tongue." The DCFS investigator sent the mother and child to live with a grandparent. But two days later, mother and child had returned to live with Daniel Hedger. A supervisor sent the caseworker to interview Hedger again. But the worker failed to find Dakota's father for three days. On the evening of the third day, he received a call from the Sheriff's Department that Dakota was dead and that Hedger had been charged with her death. Hedger was sentenced to 25 years for murder.
DCFS DISCIPLINE: The investigator received counseling.
Miracle Moon 2-year-old
Died Dec. 5, 2000 Chicago,IL
The DCFS ordered the girl's young mother, a former ward of the state with a history of cocaine addiction and suicide attempts, into drug treatment. The inspector general could find no evidence that she ever attended. The DCFS provided services but told the mother the agency's involvement would end when she turned 21. "At the time the mother's case was closed, she was jobless and homeless. She was noncompliant with her medication and unable to adequately care for her two children." A year later, and after being beaten for months, her mother's boyfriend pushed Miracle's head under cold water until she drowned. During an arraignment for the mother and her new boyfriend, a prosecutor said that Miracle was killed because she was slow at potty training. An autopsy showed the toddler had 50 human bite marks on her buttocks alone. The child's mother, Maria Moon, was sentenced to 10 years for aggravated battery of a child. Her boyfriend, Robert Smith, 38, was sentenced to 32 years for murder.
DCFS DISCIPLINE: None
William Barnard 3-year-old
Did DHS worker lie?
A state child welfare worker was obviously lying when she reported an Oklahoma City home had been cleaned up two days before a 3-year-old boy drowned in a bathtub there, District Attorney David Prater said Tuesday.
I'm waiting to find out what the Department of Human Services is going to do with that worker," he told The Oklahoman.
DHS officials did not respond Tuesday to a request for comment. They refused a previous request to identify the worker involved.
DHS has come under criticism since the March 21drowning death of William Barnard, who had Down syndrome.
Oklahoma City police officers had removed Barnard and two siblings from the home March 16 ? five days before the boy's death ? citing squalid living conditions.
The officers reported they took the children into state custody because the home was filled with an overwhelming stench, trash, loose electrical wires, moldy pizza, roach bodies and mouse droppings and had handprints of children on a bathroom wall that appeared to have been made with human feces.
Three days later, the children were returned to the home in accordance with a recommendation that a state child welfare worker made to an Oklahoma County assistant district attorney.
Two days after that, William drowned. His mother, Alzaina MarieBarnard, 25, has been charged with child neglect. An investigator said Alzaina Barnard admitted leaving the 3-year-old boy and his 5-year-old sister in a bathtub for at least 2
hours while she played "Spades" on the Internet.
Why were kids returned?
A big question is why the children were returned to the home so quickly.
DHS released a report last week that stated one of its child welfare workers had visited the home on the day the children were allowed to return and found "they had removed all exposed wires, molded food and clothing, and other debris and trash. The bathroom had been cleaned and the commode contained only clean water," the report stated. "The holes in the walls had been repaired. Much of the junk furniture, which reportedly belonged to a prior renter, had been moved to the front porch for either removal by the prior renter or the landlord."
Prater said the contents of the report are consistent with what the DHS worker told his assistant, Jane Brown, which prompted her to agree to allow the children to return home.
However, the report is inconsistent with the filth police officers once again reported finding when they went to the home after the drowning.
Police Capt. Steve McCool, who was at the home that day, told The Oklahoman the house was cluttered and the stench coming from the home remained overpowering. Prater said he doesn't believe the house was cleaned up and made fit for children in three days, only to return to squalid conditions two days later.
"It's obvious that house could not have been cleaned up on Monday and then be in the condition officers found it in on Wednesday," he said. "There is just no way possible. So, yeah, we question the validity of that information that was provided to Jane. We just know it was false. It had to have been." Prater said he is also concerned about what the child welfare worker didn't tell his assistant prosecutor.
The worker didn't reveal that this was the fourth complaint in 16 months Oklahoma DHS workers had received about children in the home living in dirty or unsafe conditions, Prater said.
The worker also didn't reveal that the family had previous encounters with child protective services officials in Texas, which was "apparently why they left Texas," Prater said.
If that history had been revealed, Prater said his assistant would not have allowed the children to be returned without a hearing before a judge to show cause why that would be in the children's best interest.
?Show cause' hearings
Prater said he has instructed his assistants to question DHS workers thoroughly before agreeing to any future recommendation to allow children to return home without a "show cause" hearing.
State Rep. Kris Steele, R-Shawnee, has proposed legislation that would require "show cause" hearings to be held in all cases where children have been removed from homes for abuse or neglect. Prater said he considered making it a policy of his office to require a "show cause" hearing in every case where a child has been taken into state custody before allowing a child to return home. Prater said he decided against enacting such a broad policy because he knows of several instances when children have been picked up by the state after missing a bus, but where there is no indication of any problem at home. In those cases, Prater said he doesn't think it would be in the children's best interest to keep them overnight.
While Steele doesn't expect his legislation to be enacted this year, he said he does expect legislators will pass a law requiring more public disclosure by DHS officials when children die or nearly die.
"I think it is the right thing."
Report details DHS visits to where child died
The Oklahoma Department of Human Services received four complaints about William Barnard or his siblings living in dirty or unsafe conditions in the 16 months before Barnard's March 21 drowning death, according to a DHS report released Monday.
William's mother, Alzaina MarieBarnard, 25, was charged with child neglect April 13 after an investigator looking into the drowning said she admitted leaving the 3-year-old boy with Down syndrome and his 5-year-old sister in a bathtub for at least 2 hours while she played "Spades" on the Internet.
DHS has come under criticism because the Barnard children were returned to their home upon the recommendation of a child welfare worker just three days after Oklahoma City police had removed them, citing squalid living conditions.
Officers reported the home was filled with an overwhelming stench, trash, loose electrical wires, moldy pizza, roach bodies, mice droppings and handprints of children on a bathroom wall that appeared to have been made with human feces.
William drowned just two days later.
DHS said it had received three previous complaints involving the household on Nov. 28, 2005, on March 9, 2006, and on Aug. 18, 2006.
Report findings
In the report released Monday, DHS said one of its child welfare workers visited the home three days after the children were removed and found "they had removed all exposed wires, molded food and clothing, and other debris and trash."
"The bathroom had been cleaned and the commode contained only clean water. The holes in the walls had been repaired. Much of the junk furniture, which reportedly belonged to a prior renter, had been moved to the front porch for either removal by the prior renter or the landlord," the report said.
The report said a relative was making arrangements for them to move to a nicer, cleaner house.
The report also said that the mother had voluntarily agreed to accept state services to help them maintain a safe environment.
The 2005 complaint concerned an allegation that William's older sister often was sent to pre-kindergarten "dirty and unkempt in general appearance." The girl reportedly had not returned to school after being sent home with head lice.
DHS said that complaint "did not fall within the scope of neglect, as there is no mandatory statutory requirement that a child must attend pre-kindergarten."
March 2006
DHS said it received a complaint stating on Feb. 1, 2006, William's then 4-year-old sister "was observed to be dirty and that her mother, Alzaina Marie Barnard, had written ?I'm a looser' (sic) on one arm and ?I like boys' on the other arm of the child."
DHS said a child welfare worker went to the home and confirmed that the girl and her brother were dirty, but saw no injuries. The child welfare worker said the girl was developmentally delayed and couldn't have written the words on her own arms, but the adults in the home denied any knowledge of the writing.
"The explanation given was that perhaps some other children on the school bus could have written on the child's arm," the DHS report said.
The family was referred to the department's Family Support Division.
August 2006
This time, the complaint alleged William and his sister were living in "an extremely filthy home infested with roaches as well as having boards on the front porch with large rusty nails sticking up.
"William was reported to be filthy and had a red and swollen unclean wound from where his gastric feeding tube had been removed the previous week. The five-year-old sibling was reported to have two large bruises."
A child welfare worker again visited the home and confirmed the children were dirty. The worker said the mother said the bruises on her daughter were caused by the girl falling after crawling on a kitchen counter top to reach a cabinet. The worker asked that William be seen by a medical professional, which was done, the report said, adding that no infection was found.
The report said the DHS worker revisited the home Sept. 15 and found conditions had improved, adding that the investigation was closed with a recommendation that the family continue receiving services.
Where the case stands now
On Monday, William's sister and a younger brother were in state custody, DHS officials said.
By Randy Ellis Staff Writer
Faheem Williams 7-year-old
Newark abuse death gets uglier
Amid claims of DYFS inaction, angry McGreevey vows a probe
Faheem Williams came into the world around 11 a.m. on June 13, 1995, at University Hospital in Newark, a few minutes before his twin brother, Raheem. That much is known from his birth certificate.
He departed it seven years later, police say, starved and beaten and concealed in a filthy basement in which his surviving twin and a 4-year-old brother also were imprisoned.
But between his birth and the shocking discovery Sunday of his corpse, there is precious little documentation of Faheem's short life. No photographs of a happy toddler blowing out birthday candles. No pre-school diploma. No evidence that he ever attended elementary school.
Just 11 filed and apparently forgotten notations in a New Jersey Division of Youth and Family Services file dating back to 1992, recording neglect complaints made about the children's mother, Melinda Williams. The last report, on Oct. 3, 2001, alleged that the children were being beaten and burned.
Yesterday, as Faheem was autopsied and his rescued brothers treated at a hospital for malnutrition, state officials reacted swiftly to what appeared to be a clear case of bureaucratic fumbling. Gov. James E. McGreevey, who termed initial news reports of the case "revolting" and "disgusting," promised an exhaustive review of the state's performance.
"Clearly something went very wrong," McGreevey said. "The state has a legal and moral responsibility, and we will provide the most thorough, agonizing and exhaustive review of the agency's actions to determine what happened in this case."
The governor also predicted that heads would roll.
"There will be disciplinary actions -- I am confident they will come. Clearly there were failures in judgment, failure of follow-up, failure of accountability," he said.
Gwendolyn Harris, commissioner of the New Jersey Department of Human Services, said a preliminary review of DYFS records showed that "there may have been major problems in the handling of the case."
"The family was known to the department for 10 years. There were indications that this was a family in trouble and the children were at risk," she said. "Clearly, something in the system failed. We will take whatever measures required to correct or improve our system."
Police were called to 188 Parker St. in north Newark on Saturday, after a visitor searching for his misplaced work boots broke into a locked basement and discovered Raheem and Tyrone Williams under a bed reeking of urine, feces and vomit. They were malnourished and dehydrated, and their hair was covered with lice.
The next day, after Raheem told authorities his twin brother was missing, police returned to the house. They found Faheem's emaciated and broken body stuffed in a plastic container hidden in a closet.
Police said the three boys were being cared for by their mother's cousin, 41-year-old Sherry Murphy. She was not at the house at the time the children were discovered and was still at large last night, with three outstanding child endangerment charges against her.
Gloria Anderson, a 50-year-old East Orange resident, contacted The Star-Ledger yesterday to say she had cared for the twins and their older brother, Fuquan Williams, for two years, between 1998 and 2000. She had known their mother, Melinda, and their grandmother, Joyce Williams, for years, she said.
Tyrone Williams was not put in her care. Melinda Williams also had a daughter, who already had been adopted by a relative, according to DYFS.
"Melinda's mind is not right, she's on Social Security," Anderson said. "She needed help and asked me if I would keep them, so I did. Her mother, who had died, always said, if anything happened to Melinda, I should help."
According to Anderson, DYFS knew she was caring for the three Williams children. The agency did not give her an allowance, but did issue her a Medicaid card for the boys, she said.
But Joseph Delmar, a DYFS spokesman, said the agency had no knowledge of Anderson's role in the children's lives.
When the boys first arrived, Anderson said, they were timid and easily frightened 3-year-olds, still in diapers.
"They were scared of things, because Melinda didn't take them anywhere. I took them to the park, and they were scared of the swings and the sliding board. Then I showed them how to use them and they loved them," she said. "They were scared of the movie screen, that the big people on the screen -- they would scream and holler, they thought the people were coming out to get them."
She also instructed the boys to defend themselves, rather than cry, when picked on, she said, and soon they were acting like bright, happy and well-adjusted youngsters. Though the boys were identical twins, Faheem weighed significantly more than Raheem, she said.
Their mother visited periodically, sometimes dropping off food stamps, Anderson said.
"They loved their mother, but they were attached to me," she said.
Anderson said she did not believe that Melinda Williams physically abused her children. Although she noticed a large burn scar on Faheem's neck and chest, Williams told her the scar resulted from a heart operation, she said. Williams also told her once that she "never liked" Faheem, preferring Raheem.
"Melinda didn't feed them -- Fuquan told us he was often hungry -- but I don't believe their mother beat them," said Latonjia Anderson, 36, one of Gloria Anderson's children.
During the fall of 2000, Gloria Anderson said, she decided to relinquish the children. She had become sick and felt she could not take care of them anymore. Anderson said she also had fought a losing battle with DYFS for money to cover the cost of a school uniform for the oldest boy. Fuquan Williams, 11, currently is living at the Children's Village in White Plains, a residential treatment center, relatives said yesterday.
Anderson said she took the boys by bus to DYFS' office in downtown Newark. She lied to the children, telling them she would be back.
Then, she said, she went home and cried for three days.
"I'm sorry I gave them back," she said yesterday.
Later, "we'd hear things," Latonjia Anderson said. "People would tell me, 'Your mother should go and get those kids back.'"
At Christmas, Melinda Williams called the Andersons to say hello. She said her children were down South, but added that an aunt was about to bring them home.
On New Year's Eve, Williams called again. She left a taped message saying, "Happy New Year's, sister."
The Williams children's case was handled by DYFS District Office No. 2, which serves Newark's West Ward.
Eleven neglect or abuse allegations were made to caseworkers there between August 1992 and October 2001. Social workers substantiated one complaint of medical neglect and two complaints of neglect -- including one instance in which Melinda Williams left the children with a friend and never came back.
The records do not reveal what, if any, action DYFS took as a result of confirming the three neglect charges.
A caseworker was dispatched to Melinda Williams' home after the last complaint, on Oct. 3, 2001, but could not find the family.
Oddly, despite the open allegation, the agency closed the file on Feb. 7, 2002, Delmar said.
DYFS has no evidence that caseworkers knew the children were living with Murphy, but this is a key question in the investigation, he added.
The Williams case gave McGreevey his first opportunity since taking office to react to a crisis involving the child welfare agency.
In 1997, as a candidate running against incumbent Gov. Christie Whitman, McGreevey made DYFS accountability and disclosure one of his signature campaign issues. He traveled to dozens of churches with a grieving grandfather whose 2-year-old granddaughter had been fatally beaten, and urged passage of a law compelling DYFS to disclose its involvement in a case in which a child had died.
Whitman ultimately signed into law a competing bill, which compelled the state's release yesterday of the Williams file.
Hetty Rosenstein, president of Local 1037 of the Communications Workers of America, representing 2,000 DYFS workers, called McGreevey's statements of blame "extremely premature."
"They were just doing the investigation this afternoon. I don't know how we could say yet that someone did something wrong," Rosenstein said. "The investigation needs to go forward -- certainly without leaving any stone unturned."
Rosenstein said the caseworker assigned to the Williams boy was juggling more than 100 cases. "The caseloads are too high. I don't know if it's a factor here, but we need to ask about the enormous pressure to close a case because caseloads are too high," she said.
Delmar said the average DYFS caseworker supervises the care of about 35 children, although "some have more, some have less." To reduce the burden, the state has added staff and bought cell phones and cars to make their jobs easier to manage. "We recognize that more can and needs to be done."
Tuesday, January 7, 2003
BY SUSAN K. LIVIO AND MARY JO PATTERSON
STAR-LEDGER STAFF
Ryan Turner 4-year-old
On May 26th 1994 John Ryan Turner died in his home,Miramichi NB.He was 3 years old.
His parents Cpl.Steven Turner and Lorelei Turner were charged with manslaughter. They were a millitary family stationed at CFB Chatam Testimony at the trial showed that John Ryan was probably held prisoner in his upstairs bedroom,bound in leather harness and gagged with socks.His emaciated body weighed only 20lbs at death and was covered in cuts,bruises and sores.He also had broken bones that had healed by themselves without medical attention.Most people who viewed the autopsy photographs said his body looked like that of a nazi concentration camp victim.
July 24th 1995 Steven and Lorelei Turner cried when they were sentenced to 16 years in prison for abusing and starving their son to death.The 16 year sentences may be the most severe ever handed down in child abuse cases in Canada. Mr.Justice Riordon ,who on June 14th,1995 convicted the Turners of manslaughter,said young John Ryan's death at the hands of his parents was deplorable and unexplainable.Judge Riordon said both parents made a conscious decision to abuse and then ignore their young boy.They should have realized they had a deadly sick boy who needed medical attention.John Ryan had not received medical attention in the 19 mos prior to his death.
The Turners appealed their cases all the way to the supreme court of Canada and lost.
UPDATES
MAY 2000:Lorelei Turner granted day parole
May 22,2002: a panel of the National Parole Board in Kingston,Ontario ruled Lorelei Turner be released on full parole but placed on probation until July 2011. Until then, she must remain within 25 kilometres of her residence, is not allowed unsupervised contact with anyone under 16, and must continue to receive counselling. She is believed to be living in Sault St-Marie,Ontario
If you would like to read an article on the parole board's decision click here
Steven Turner only served 6 years of his 16 year sentence. He was granted full parole in August 2001.After his release,he attended Cambrian College in Sudbury,Ontario for 3 years where he took the Electrical Engineering technology course. He is still residing in the province of Ontario where he works. He is now living in the city of Sault St-Marie as well .
Jose Flores 2-year-old
Why Jose died
The failure to save a 2-year-old boy raises doubts about social services
When Jose Malachi Flores, 2, began limping one morning this spring, his baby sitter spotted it and his mother, Maria Carmella Flores, drove him to St. Francis-West Medical Center, according to homicide Detective James Anderson.
Anderson said doctors diagnosed Jose with a spiral fracture of the left leg, an injury that occurs when a leg is wrenched or twisted either from a fall or, in some cases, as a result of child abuse.
Flores later told Anderson that she thought it was an accident. So health care workers, who have a responsibility to report suspected child abuse, did not alert Child Protective Services or the Honolulu Police Department.
A few weeks later, Jose died of head injuries that the medical examiner attributed to "shaken baby syndrome," a form of child abuse in which a child is so severely shaken that the brain swells, the backs of the eyes can hemorrhage and, in 50 percent of cases, the child dies. Survivors often have severe disabilities.
Jose's death on April 24 once again raises questions about the social systems that should have protected this child and failed. In addition to CPS and the police, that social system includes health care workers, neighbors, friends, caregivers or family who might have suspected abuse but did nothing to report it.
"Somebody knows who did this," said Sulema Reyna, Jose's paternal grandmother, who lives in Florida and has not seen him for more than a year.
"That baby went from the baby sitter to his house every day. How many people touched that baby in a day?" she asked. "I think a lot of people shut their eyes when they saw or heard or knew something. Nobody helped him."
Reyna, her voice swelling with anger and grief, added, "It's inhuman if you see or you know (about abuse) and you keep your mouth shut."
Lillian Koller, the newly appointed director of the Department of Human Services, which oversees CPS, said: "This is a terrible tragedy. We need to re-evaluate the processes and systems involved in child protection. It's not CPS alone. Schools, police departments, medical providers, the courts all have a role to ensure child protection."
CPS gets more than 15,000 calls a year and not all are investigated, said Koller. Instead, intake workers conduct a risk assessment to decide if a complaint should be evaluated. In 2002, CPS investigated 6,689 cases and confirmed child abuse in 54 percent of the cases. Jose's case was not confirmed after two separate investigations.
Koller said they are studying Jose's case to determine where improvements can be made.
A series of high-profile child-abuse cases in Hawaii in the late 1990s led to some changes in the system. Jose Flores' legacy, like that of Reubyne Buentipo Jr., may be further changes to a system that still fails. In 1997, when Reubyne was 4, his mother beat him into unconsciousness, causing massive brain damage. The outcry over that case led to the passage of "Reubyne's Bill," which altered the way CPS reunites children with parents.
In 2002, four children who had been under CPS investigation died. The medical examiner ruled all four deaths to be accidental or natural. This year, nine children under CPS investigation died. To date, six have been ruled accidental. The medical examiner has ruled Jose's death a homicide and two other deaths have not been determined.
More than a month after the Waipahu boy's death, no one has been charged in the case. The 23-year-old baby sitter was arrested April 25, the morning after Jose died. But police released her pending further investigation.
In private, police, child-abuse experts and a former prosecutor admit the Flores case is complicated and in the end might be difficult, if not impossible, to prosecute.
Jose's 22-year-old mother and 23-year-old father, Jose Manuel Flores, both declined repeated requests for interviews, as did the baby sitter.
While the murder inquiry continues, it's clear the system that failed Jose also needs investigation.
CPS and HPD both investigated complaints of child abuse to Jose in August and November that involved accusations of bruises and burns. They investigated several people in Jose's daily life, some of whom are suspected in his murder, and found the accusations unfounded, according to Koller and police.
Koller said: "We (CPS) did our thing, and the police did theirs. Our cases were closed, and it looks like it went through the process as it was supposed to."
She also noted that CPS's jurisdiction is more confined than that of the police because it is limited to investigation of family members and licensed baby sitters.
Anderson said: "CPS went pretty far on its investigation, so it's not from a lack of CPS investigating. They are pretty intense in these cases, sometimes more so than the police."
He added, "CPS did the right interviews and found no red flags that the child was abused."
Reyna, Jose's grandmother, is angry at CPS.
"CPS said they did everything and that the claims were unfounded," said Reyna. "There were explanations for the bruises on his head. He had a burn on his hand, and they accepted an explanation that he got it from a grilled cheese sandwich."
Dr. Cynthia Tinsley, a child-abuse expert who formerly worked 12 years in the pediatric intensive care unit of Kapiolani Medical Center for Women and Children, said CPS workers have a difficult job and no medical expertise to help in their evaluations.
"It's hard to second guess," said Tinsley, who was Reubyne Buentipo's doctor. "CPS is trying to predict human behavior, which is very, very difficult. And we somehow expect these social workers to be more accurate than the psychic hotline."
Tinsley is critical of CPS's confidentiality policies, created by the Legislature to protect a child's privacy and prevent them from being stigmatized. But Tinsley said excessive confidentiality creates "huge communication gaps" in the system and prevents doctors from obtaining critical pieces of a child's history that might confirm suspicions of child abuse.
Tinsley said that when evaluating an injury for abuse, "you need to consider the story and the child's history (of any abuse). If the injuries or history don't match the story, that's a big red flag to report it. And I think it's better to err on the side of overreporting. But what if that history of abuse is confidential? You're missing an important piece of information. "
Tinsley said that while doctors openly share information with each other about a patient so they can assemble a clear medical history, CPS is very tight-lipped.
For example, she said that if a doctor calls CPS, he or she can only learn if a case is still active. And CPS won't give details. And if a case has been closed either because the child was placed in foster care or the claims were unfounded, the doctor cannot get information. Tinsley said she had cases in which she was concerned about a child and CPS confidentiality prevented her from learning that a sibling had been abused or taken away.
Koller agreed that this lack of information is "a huge problem" that should be corrected by changes to the current laws governing CPS.
"For the doctor it's really a one-way street," said Koller. "They call the CPS hotline with a case, and CPS can't say much because of the law. The doc can give us information and ask for advice whether a mandatory report (of abuse) should be made (to CPS). But really, as the laws now stand, we can't give information that would help the doctor make an informed decision."
Koller said, "We really need to revise the existing laws so that CPS can effectively communicate with doctors."
She added: "I'm not convinced that having such a closed system helps the child. I think the confidentiality actually feeds (rather than prevents) the stigma and shame for the child. And the child is the victim and shouldn't feel shame. I think if we had an open system, that exists in some other states, there wouldn't be shame and there would be more accountability."
Tinsley also said that CPS workers make their decisions without using any medical experts or evaluations. Often when child-abuse teams review a case going to court, they only have medical evidence if the child was taken to the hospital.
In Jose's case, doctors diagnosed the spiral break as a "toddler's fracture" that came from a fall and not abuse. But would someone have reported it anyway, if they had known there were two previous investigations for child abuse?
Anderson, the deputy medical examiner who performed the autopsy, child-abuse consultants and others involved in the investigation say there are many complications in Jose's case.
One factor is the rocky relationship between Jose's mother and his father, an Army cook based at Schofield Barracks. In fact, many of the people who touched the toddler's life, from baby sitters to family members and friends, have conflicts with one another, which complicates both the murder investigation and the previous child-abuse inquiries.
Last summer, the Flores' strained relationship and accusations against one another were documented in police reports and court cases.
In July, Maria Flores, who was living in Waipahu with her boyfriend, Lino Innis, took out a restraining order against Jose Manuel Flores, to keep him away from her and her child.
In August, she was granted temporary custody. Jose Flores was ordered to stay away from his wife and son and to take anger management classes, substance abuse testing and parenting classes. He was allowed visitation but only under the supervision of designated military personnel.
Later in August, Flores challenged his wife's temporary custody, arguing she had abandoned the child for two months with a baby sitter, Sabrina Grace, and only visited him six times.
That same month, Grace complained to CPS that when the child was not in her care he came back to her with "big bruises on his face and head."
In an interview, Grace said "these were no small tap bumps. These were big, protruding out of the head. He should have been taken to the doctor."
Grace said: "I tried to protect Miho (Jose) and alerted CPS. But CPS didn't understand what was going on. If CPS had listened, that boy would be alive today."
Although Grace called CPS, she had a falling out with Maria Flores and was acting on behalf of Flores' estranged husband. Koller confirmed her complaint. Both CPS and HPD investigated.
Sources close to the investigation said the investigators saw the angry, jilted father as a "tainted messenger" and did not give full weight to his complaints.
"They blew him off," said Reyna, Flores' mother. "When Jose tried to help his son, no one would help him."
Reyna said that at Christmas her son took Jose to Wal-Mart for pictures, and Jose had bruises on his face and back.
"The Christmas picture I have of him, my last picture of him, he has bruises on his face," said Reyna.
Koller agreed that judging the person who makes the complaint is a problem.
"It's not appropriate for the investigator to judge the credibility of the messenger," she said. "They should independently and dispassionately investigate the facts."
Koller added, "Of course, when there is no physical evidence, then they have to rely more on the credibility of who's making the complaint."
By September, Maria Flores had hired a new baby sitter, a young woman in Ewa Village. The woman took care of six children, including two of her own, in the small and tidy plantation-style house that she shared with her brother and boyfriend.
In November, Jose Flores complained again to CPS, this time getting an Army officer to make the call. Koller confirmed the complaint. Both CPS and HPD investigated and found nothing.
On April 22, Jose's mother dropped him off at the baby sitter at 6:45 a.m., according to Anderson. Around 10:30 a.m., said Anderson, the baby sitter fed Jose. Sometime during the day, the baby sitter noticed Jose was not feeling well and called his mother to pick him up. She did not.
At 5:15 p.m., when Innis, Maria Flores' boyfriend, came to pick up the child he was unconscious and "breathing laboriously," said Anderson. Innis called an ambulance.
When the child was examined at St. Francis he had massive swelling of the brain, a blood clot on the brain and bilateral hemorrhaging, said police. The attending physician immediately suspected shaken-baby syndrome. As a military dependent, Jose was later transferred to Tripler Army Medical Center, where he underwent surgery to relieve the swelling on his brain in a last attempt to save his life.
When Lt. Brit Nishijo and members of the HPD's child-abuse detail arrived at the hospital in the hours after the child was brought in, they were briefed on his condition.
"It was critical. We just called homicide and passed the case to them," said Nishijo.
"Pam can protect herself," she wrote in closing the case. Evidently Pam could not.
Pam Byron, a Worth County girl whose drug-addicted mother, records show, periodically went away to drug treatment and occasionally to jail.
The earliest complaints had to do with neglect. One person reported that Pam's 3-year-old brother was wandering through the neighborhood, crying and asking neighbors for food. Other callers alleged that the mother was using food stamps and welfare checks to buy drugs rather than to feed and clothe her children.
In April 1994, when Pam was 13, she filed a complaint that her mother had slapped her 5-year-old brother in the face and then beat Pam over the head when she complained.
The caseworker confirmed that "physical abuse occurs occasionally" but allowed the children to remain in the home because their grandmother also lived there.
The reports continued to trickle in, but caseworkers believed Pam was safe with her grandmother. Caseworkers also helped the mother get into drug treatment.
Despite the history of neglect and abuse, Pam seemed to rise above her environment. The pastor of her church, where she sang in the choir, described her as a sweet, smiling girl who was "quite beautiful." She was proud of her grades in the eighth grade and dreamed of going to college.
In 1995, the department received a report that someone in Pam's household had made sexual advances toward her. The girl said the report was true -- that the man had come into her bedroom and offered her $20, then $50, if he could touch her. Despite her statement and the family's history, the caseworker called the complaint "unfounded."
She noted in the file, however, that she had advised Pam, then 14, to "put a straight chair under the door knob and this will keep anyone from coming in."
"Pam can protect herself," she wrote in closing the case.
Evidently Pam could not.
In April 1996, when she was 15, her 29-year-old cousin -- who was living with the family after his release from prison -- tried to rape Pam. When she rejected him, the prosecutor later said, he strangled her with a power tool cord, then doused her with lighter fluid and set her on fire. The cousin, Marvin Spence, was convicted of her murder and sentenced to life in prison.
After Pam's death, the brother she had tried to protect told a caseworker that Pam would no longer be there for him when he got home from school. She was "in heaven and an angel," the little boy said.
Joseph Michael Duncan 8-year-old
Joseph's death could have been avoided. The system failed.
Recess is a time for second-graders to have some fun, but in Marion, Illinois, in the spring of 1998, Joseph Duncan was in pain. He told his teacher that his back burned and stung. She looked underneath his shirt and said she saw "the worst welts she had ever seen." Reluctantly, the 8-year-old boy acknowledged that he'd been whipped with an extension cord by his mother's boyfriend, Ernest Bruny. The boy said it was not the first time. The teacher could see he was in terrible trouble and that someone must rescue him. She alerted the Illinois Department of Children and Family Services.
An investigator was sent to the home. Ernest Bruny and Joseph's mother, Donna Duncan, were apologetic and cooperative. The investigator felt reassured, and felt there was no need to remove the child from his home.
Shortly after that visit, the family moved to Lake of Egypt, Ill. Another investigator was sent out to check on Joseph. In the presence of Bruny and Duncan, the investigator asked Joseph, "how he was doing?" He said, "Fine." He had enrolled in a new school.
Next, his mother temporarily moved to Florida, leaving Joseph behind with Bruny. Suddenly, Joseph stopped showing up at school. And in late September, Johnson County police received a phone call from Florida police. Donna Duncan had made disturbing comments about her son and her boyfriend, Ernest Bruny. That night, the sheriff and two police officers drove to Bruny's home to see Joseph. Bruny said the boy was living with his mother in Florida. The police officers searched the house to find a bulging suitcase in the bathroom off the master bedroom. Inside the suitcase were plastic bags. The sheriff took out a pocketknife, slit into the bags and saw a leg.
Joseph had been dead for two days. He died from blunt trauma to all parts of his body.
Ernest Bruny and Joseph's mother, Donna Duncan, were charged with murder.
Megan Fitzpatrick 2-yea-old
Megan's troubles began May 17, 1997, court records show.
Her mother, Classie Fitzpatrick, was watching television and drinking with friends, when she left an open can of beer on a table and fell asleep.
When Fitzpatrick woke the next morning, her 2-year-old niece was unconscious. At the hospital, doctors determined that the girl had a blood-alcohol level of 0.208.
Child welfare workers discovered that five children were staying in the roach-infested flat, according to court records. The apartment was dirty and had no toilet paper, no toothbrushes and no hairbrushes.
Fitzpatrick's three children were separated. Andrew, 7, went to one foster home. Megan, 2, and Andrelia, 6 -- called Tasha -- were sent to another, operated by Mollie Conley Jones in a north side apartment. They joined a third foster child, Monique, 11, who was abusive to younger children, often pushing Megan off slides, according to court records.
Jones had a history of emotional problems, the records show. Her boyfriend, who had not been screened by welfare officials, often stayed overnight. Megan and Tasha slept on the floor.
The night Megan died, Monique was left to baby-sit the Pryor sisters while Smith and her boyfriend went to a store, Monique and Tasha told police. Monique took four tablespoons of prescription cough medicine and gave tiny Megan the same dose, records show. The toddler choked on her own vomit in the middle of the night. She was buried on her sister's seventh birthday.
Megan's siblings have since been returned to their mother. Jones has lost her foster parenting license.
"When they place a child in foster care, they're saying, in effect, that they can do a better job. Well, they didn't do a better job," said Barry Cymerman, attorney for Megan's family. "We've shown a lot of problems with the foster care system."
Since the state took over foster care in Milwaukee County, many of those problems have been addressed, according to Fiss and Kitty Kocol, administrator for the state Department of Health and Family Services.
The program's budget has increased from about $70 million in 1997 to about $100 million today, Fiss said. Much of that money has been used to hire caseworkers. When the county ran the program, one caseworker had responsibility for 25 to 40 families. Now, each has 13 families, and that will decrease to 11 by September.
The state also has shifted the system's focus. Instead of putting so many children in foster care, officials try to keep more than half of them safe in their homes whenever possible.
Staying at home wasn't a choice for Devin Slade. Both his parents were in jail when he was placed in the north side foster home of Anita Lusk in 2001. A lawsuit filed by Devin's parents in Milwaukee County Circuit Court alleges that as many as nine other children were staying in the home when Devin suffocated between a mattress and the wall. There were no cribs, and the home was "disorganized, cluttered, in need of sanitation and extensive cleaning," according to the lawsuit.
In a letter to the court, Lusk wrote that she had been a foster parent for nine years and had adopted three of her former foster children. "I love children all too well to knowingly cause harm to them," she wrote.
Incidents such as those involving Megan and Devin are reminders not to be complacent, Fiss said. A staff of more than 15 people works full time to monitor the daily operations of the child welfare agency in Milwaukee County. They review both routine practices and specific cases.
Viktor Sergeyevich Tulimov Matthey 6-year-old
October 31, 2000
The short life of Viktor Alexander Matthey
Hunterdon County, New Jersey died of cardiac arrest due to hyperthermia after adoptive parents Robert and Brenda Matthey locked him overnight in a damp unheated pump room. Viktor was also severely beaten by his adoptive father. Both parents are sentenced to 10 years for confining Viktor to a pump room, 10 years for excessive corporal punishment and 7 years for failing to provide medical care. The sentences run concurrently. Viktor was in the US 10 months before his death.
Candice Marie Raymor 15-year-old
ANOTHER TRAGEDY - ANOTHER CHILD IS GONE TO THE FOSTER CARE SYSTEM
Candice Raymor died at age 15 in North Richmond from an estimated 7,000 volt jolt three times the current used during electric-chair executions. The group home where she lived, Cumberland Magnolia House, was cited by the state licensing agency for a violation involving her supervision last summer. Her mother was concerned with the "cocktail" of psychiatric drugs she was given at the group home.
Nationwide Protest Against Child Protective Services Planned For Next Month
Local Mother Planning To Attend
HARRISONBURG ? When Candice Marie Raynor died suddenly after running away from a foster home in Richmond last fall, her mother Lynn, gave up one battle and began another.
Since May 2005, Lynn Raynor had struggled to regain custody of her 15-year-old daughter and to get her off the psychoactive medication that she says state doctors gave Candice.
The Harrisonburg-Rockingham Department of Social Services won't say why they took Candice from her mother, citing confidentiality laws, but Raynor says the removal came after she lost housing.
On Sept. 30, Raynor's hope of getting Candice back was lost forever when the former Thomas Harrison Middle School student's body was found at a power substation in Richmond. She'd been electrocuted. The state medical examiner's office has ruled her death an accident.
But Raynor says she hasn't given up her fight against the agency she blames for destroying her family. Next month, she will take her grievances to Washington, D.C., at a rally next month on The Mall protesting child-protective service agencies across the nation.
According to rally organizers, the primary grievance is against federal funding of foster care, which they say provides an incentive to remove children from the home.
"I hope people will actually be able to get the government to stop and look at what's going on," Raynor said. "If social services didn't get the federal funding they wouldn't have the money to take the kids."
Dick Randel and Gene Vaught, founders of Children in Peril, a support group for families in custody disputes with the local social services, also plan to attend.
"Parents are heard but not listened to," Randel said, citing the need for the rally. "We plan to notify everyone within our little group [about the rally] to get this done."
The Rally
DCRally 2007, scheduled for Aug. 18, is a nationwide protest against foster care's funding process, which organizers say leads social service agencies to remove children from their parents unnecessarily.
Ronald Smith of Grand Rapids, Mich., founder of the nonprofit group Children Need Both Parents, organized the rally.
Smith says that federal funding, which supports children in the foster care system, has turned child protective services into a business.
"It's more profitable to keep children in the system than to reunite them with their families," he said. "It doesn't make sense to pay strangers when the same money that they're using for foster care could be used to repair families."
Another concern, Smith says, is that many state agencies prescribe psychoactive medication to the children in their custody.
Earlier this year, Smith's 20-year-old son Richmond died from liver cancer. Smith blames the death on Ritalin, a prescription drug prescribed to treat ADHD.
Smith, who had custody disputes with Richmond's mother, says he hasn't been allowed to see medical records pertaining to his son's death.
Local Concerns
Randel and Raynor both say that Smith's complaints about social service agencies are relevant in Harrisonburg and Rockingham County.
Raynor says social services medicated Candice without her consent, and that she'd filed a federal lawsuit to stop the drugs before her daughter's death. Raynor says that after Candice died, the lawsuit changed but is still pending in U.S. District Court in Harrisonburg.
Randel, who says he has worked with 75 families since forming Children in Peril in 2005, also has other concerns.
DSS sends children with serious drug or alcohol problems for treatment in Charlottesville, Richmond, or Roanoke, further separating them from their parents, he said.
Also, Randel says, removal hearings are held in closed courtrooms where parents have little say.
"For the parents, it's always you're guilty, and then you have to prove your innocence," Randel said. "We want the system to really fully explain the time and date and what the charges are. They don't do that."
Some Common Ground
Don Driver, director of the Harrisonburg-Rockingham Department of Social Services, said he wasn't aware of DCRally, but that he's interested in working with concerned parents.
The agency, he says, tries to strike a balance between protecting children and helping families solve problems.
Taking children from their parents is a last resort, Driver says, and after taking children, the agency works with parents so children can return home.
Driver would not answer questions about specific cases because that would violate privacy rules, he said.
But as for federal funding, he says the money is to serve children in state custody.
"Foster parents don't get paid at a rate that is a money-making thing," Driver said. "They do it from their heart, but they still need to be funded for the cost."
He also said he would like more children to receive drug treatment in local programs, but services for seriously addicted children aren't available in Harrisonburg.
Driver also said that social service agencies in Virginia are working toward improving relations with parents and solving problems without putting kids in foster homes.
This summer, the Harrisonburg-Rockingham agency is adding two new positions devoted to keeping families together.
"There's a lot of common desires and directions," Driver said when told of the rally organizer's concerns. "I would like to see us have a greater capacity to help families resolve problems."
For more information on the DCRally, scheduled for Aug. 18, log on to www.dcrally2007.com
Child protection staff left a tortured toddler to die at the hands of her violent parents because they were "paralysed" with fear by the couple, a damning inquiry said today.
Two-year-old Ainlee Walker, also known as Ainlee Labonte, was found covered in 64 scars, scabs and bruises when she died in January.
But health and social services staff were too afraid to visit her home in Plaistow, east London, because they were intimidated by her family, according to a report by Newham area child protection committee (ACPC).
Independent consultant Helen Kenward, the report's author and an expert on child protection issues, said Ainlee had "got lost" in the care system because staff allowed themselves to be manipulated by her parents.
Ms Kenward stated in the report: "The fear with which the family are regarded leads to almost paralysis in terms of action.
"The children were living in an environment that adults were not prepared to visit. One by one the agencies withdrew for personal safety issues."
Health minister Jacqui Smith admitted there was a problem "about the quality and the number of social workers available to work with children".
But she added: "If a child is in danger, there is no excuse for not getting that child out of danger and in this case that didn't happen.
"If we need to reform the system to protect children like Ainlee, we will do that."
Police figures showed that in the 18 months before the toddler's death, officers had been called out to the family's home 53 times, 32 of those were for domestic violence.
But social workers from the London borough of Newham failed to make a scheduled visit to Ainlee's home in the week before her death. They had not seen the toddler in the five months before her death.
Ainlee's parents, Leanne Labonte, 20, and Dennis Henry, 39, were jailed for manslaughter and child cruelty in September. Labonte was jailed for 10 years while Henry received a 12-year sentence.
Labonte and Henry scalded Ainlee with hot water, burned her with cigarettes and starved her. She had not eaten for two days before her death and weighed only 21lbs - half the normal weight of a child her age.
The report by Newham ACPC found there was poor co-ordination between the agencies involved in the toddler's care. Health, housing, social services and the police had failed to exchange their concerns about the girl's welfare or carry out a satisfactory risk assessment of her situation.
Ms Kenward said: "The agencies were compartmentalised in their knowledge and responses. There was no clear risk assessment at any stage with all the agency information available.
"There was concern for the welfare of the children but the impact on them of the violence of their parents was not evaluated."
The ACPC report's recommends improved training for child protection staff to better equip them to deal with dangerous families.
Speaking at the launch of the report at Newham town hall today, Ms Kenward said: "I think one of the messages is that in a dangerous family it is often difficult to keep the focus on the child.
"The actions of the adults create a smokescreen. Child protection is about the child and the child can get lost and Ainlee has got lost in that process."
Other key recommendations include greater emphasis on inter-agency working and more comprehensive record-keeping to ensure that everyone involved in a case is aware of all the risks to the child.
"Child protection agencies not only needed to accept responsibility of their own actions but also had to 'keep an eye on' others," said Ms Kenward.
"My personal belief is that each one of us that works in child protection has to have this sense of responsibility for each and every child that the agencies have contact with."
The ACPC chairman and Newham director of social services, Kathryn Hudson, admitted there had been "shortcomings" in the council's child protection work
She said: "Ainlee's death was a tragic event and I would like to convey the deep distress and sorrow of all the agencies involved."
The case bears similarities to that of the murdered eight-year-old Victoria Climbié, who also suffered horrific abuse and neglect at the hands of her guardians even though health, social services and the police were monitoring the situation.
Mary Marsh, director of the National Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children said the level of child killing in the UK was a "national outrage".
She said: " We know of many, many instances where poor communication and joint working between professionals from different disciplines has failed to prevent a child abuse tragedy.
"The government must act now to stop more child abuse deaths. It must ensure that professionals with responsibility for looking after children work together effectively."
Chazarus "Cha Cha" Hill Jr 3-year-old
"You can't bring this kid's life back"
An Oakland man was convicted today of involuntary manslaughter in the 2003 death of his 3-year-old son, who was beaten for wetting the bed and making mistakes while identifying numbers and letters on flash cards.
Chazarus Hill Sr., 27, showed no visible reaction when the verdict was read shortly after 10 a.m. today in an Oakland courtroom.
The murder charge was the last to be decided by the jury of eight women and four men, which on Dec. 21 had convicted Hill of assault causing death and child abuse in connection with the death of his son, Chazarus "ChaCha" Hill Jr.
Hill's assault conviction carries a sentence of 25 years to life in prison, while the involuntary manslaughter charge will bring a sentence of up to six years, attorneys in the case said.
Alameda County Superior Court Judge Kenneth Kingsbury is scheduled to sentence Hill on March 8.
"I'm glad we got some closure," said Deputy District Attorney Darryl Stallworth, who had argued that the case was one of murder but said that he respected the jury's verdict.
"You can't bring this kid's life back," Stallworth said. "The pain that this caused for everybody involved will always be there, particularly with (the boy's) mother and grandmother."
Hill's attorney, William Daley, said of the verdict, "I think it was appropriate. These are always tough cases, but murder requires malice, which is either an actual intent to kill, or what's called conscious disregard. We're dealing with a man and his son. I don't think he ever intended to kill or intentionally disregard the danger to his son.
"This was a very intelligent jury," he added. "I think they had the ability to accept the emotion and deal with the law as it states, even though there's an emotional push to go elsewhere."
The boy died Sept. 20, 2003, of multiple injuries, including a blood clot in the brain. During the trial, Hill testified that he never intended to kill his son.
But Stallworth told jurors that Hill repeatedly used a belt, his fists and switches to assault his son.
The assaults occurred repeatedly in the weeks before doctors at San Leandro Hospital pronounced the 40-pound toddler dead on Sept. 20, 2003, police said.
Instead of putting the boy to bed at night, "the defendant put him in a casket," Stallworth said.
Daley said the case "deals with, in an extreme way, the discipline of children" that went "horribly awry." Hill, who had limited education, disciplined his son in the only way he knew how, the defense attorney said: by observing how parents around him treated their children.
In response, Stallworth said it was insulting to suggest that only people with formal training would know not to beat a child.
According to Stallworth, Hill spoke to police investigating the case in a calm, matter-of-fact tone, "as if he was going over his taxes," the prosecutor said. Hill's attorney countered that his client had been in shock and hadn't gotten much sleep after being arrested.
Witnesses testified that the boy came up to them when he wasn't with his father, telling them, "My daddy punched me," and "Shh, my dad hurt me, don't tell anybody," Stallworth said.
In the weeks before the boy died, neighbor Cheryl Calhoun hugged him, but he "grimaced with both his arms" and "walked like an old man" because his legs had been beaten, the prosecutor said.
According to Stallworth, Hill spanked the boy whenever he misidentified numbers and letters on flash cards and when he wet the bed. Among the evidence shown to the jury were switches, belts and flash cards that police seized from Hill's home.
Stallworth said the assaults occurred repeatedly in the last month of ChaCha's life, in what the prosecutor called "30 days of hell."
His attorney said Hill, who testified on his own behalf, had been "straightforward and honest on a lot of things" on the stand.
Hill said he had never intended to kill his son, Daley said. The defense attorney questioned whether some of the injuries could have been inflicted by Kymberly Ford, ChaCha's stepmother, when Ford was alone with the boy.
Ford, who also testified in the trial, was released from prison more than a month ago after serving part of a four-year sentence on a child-abuse charge for allowing the assaults to occur.
Authorities said Hill had beaten his son at their home on Modesto Avenue near Mills College, at Arroyo Viejo Park in East Oakland and at the home of Ford's mother on Lark Street in San Leandro in the days before ChaCha died.
After Ford told Hill that she was done with their relationship, an enraged Hill said, "If you leave, I'm going to f? him up," the prosecutor said.
On November 19, 2006, Sean Farrish (born October 25, 2006) of Camden County, who was just three weeks old, was stabbed and thrown down a flight of stairs by his father's former girlfriend, Gloria Carter, as she attacked the child and his father. Just a week earlier, DYFS had placed the baby with his father after Sean's mother had been incarcerated. Sean's father had previously been the victim of domestic violence from Ms. Carter, and had an existing order of restraint against her. Ms. Carter has now been charged by the Camden County prosecutor's office in connection with Sean's death.
Diego Cabrera 10-month-old
Feb 14, 2006 - Dec 19, 2006
Diego Cabrera (born February 14, 2006) of Ocean County died on December 19, 2006, from cardiopulmonary arrest according to the Ocean County Medical Examiner, who has characterized the manner of death as an "accident." He may have been left unattended in a bathtub prior to his death, but the matter is still under review. DYFS had been involved with the family since 1995, including 13 previous referrals over 11 years: five were alleged neglect, three were alleged physical abuse and five were described as family problems. The case was closed by DYFS on September 29, 2006, after almost three years of providing or arranging for services to address the needs of the family. These included in-home therapy, nursing, day care, behavioral therapy, financial assistance and anger management. At the time DYFS closed the case in September, service providers indicated the parents had benefited from treatment and the pediatrician had no concerns regarding abuse or neglect. In light of a pending criminal probe, pieces of our investigation remain pending.
Erik Sturgis 6-year-old
June 7, 2000 - March 4, 2006
Erik Sturgis (born June 7, 2000) of Middlesex County, died in a house fire March 4, 2006. When he was 10 months old, his parents divorced. When he was 17 months old, while he was visiting with his father, Kevin Sturgis, Erik's mother was shot and killed in a murder/suicide. When Erik was four years old, DYFS became involved with Erik and his father when it was determined that he was being cared for by an inappropriate baby sitter. DYFS worked with Erik's father to find a new babysitter and the case was closed in July 2005. But Mr. Sturgis eventually began having a hard time keeping a babysitter for his now five-year old son. On March 4, 2006, Mr. Sturgis agreed to work an extra shift. Unable to find someone to watch Erik, he left the boy home alone, arriving to work at 7:00 a.m. Erik had been told to stay inside the home and open the door to no one. At 11:21 a.m., neighbors called to report a fire in the home. The home was locked up tight, and no car was in the driveway, so neighbors believed no one to be home. Firefighters also presumed the home to be empty, and indeed, their search of the first floor revealed no one. In Erik's bedroom, firefighters found him sitting lifeless on the floor underneath a window. The medical examiner confirmed that Erik's death was due to smoke inhalation.
Rodney McAllister 10-year-old
"He was just a sweetheart who wanted to be loved"
Let's NOT allow this precious child's death to be in vain - in the paper one day, forgotten the next.
THESE ARE OUR CHILDREN! We owe them something.
On March 6, 2001, ten-year-old Rodney McAllister was mauled to death by a pack of stray dogs while playing in Ivory Perry Park across the street from his home in the Visitation Park neighborhood.Rodney spent time living in a homeless shelter and foster homes. He showed up at school on cold days with no coat or gloves. His mother, Gladys Loman, had a history of drug abuse and fled a weapons charge in Dunklin County.
ST. LOUIS - Rodney McAllister Jr., attacked and killed by a pack of stray dogs earlier this week, was by most accounts two different children in one.
He was the bubbly, always grinning 10-year-old whom students and teachers encountered in school. Handsome and well-liked by his classmates and teachers, he couldn't stop talking, they say. Loved to talk, about anything: Malden, the town in southeast Missouri he'd left a few months ago with his mother and brother to come to St. Louis, a movie, even the T-shirt he'd worn that day.
Then there was the other Rodney, the one the neighborhood kids knew. That Rodney rarely smiled, they say, and he almost never mentioned his family.
That Rodney lived in a darker place.
He lived with his 35-year-old mother, Gladys Loman, who, according to relatives and police, had a history of drug use, and who was a fugitive in St. Louis fleeing a weapons charge in Dunklin County, Mo.
Rodney and his brother had been taken from her twice by the Missouri Department of Family Services and placed in foster homes, according to family members, but later returned to her.
That Rodney went for days wearing the same clothes, showing up at school on cold winter days without a coat or gloves and wearing shoes two sizes too big.
He lived in a homeless shelter for nearly two months when he first came to St. Louis before he moved into an old brick apartment across from Ivory Perry Park. Neighborhood children said Rodney was afraid of the dogs in the park.
After school at Clark Accelerated Academy, Rodney and his mentally retarded brother, Terry Loman, 13, often came home to find the apartment locked and their mother nowhere around, said Lance and Clint Harrison, two boys in the neighborhood who knew Rodney.
Rodney, Clint said, was rapidly becoming his best friend. They played sports together in the park and traded Pokemon cards. But Rodney was quiet and never smiled, Clint said.
When police arrived at Gladys Loman's apartment Tuesday morning to ask her about her son, she said she thought he had spent the night with Clint, as though it were a regular occurrence, police say.
But Clint, 12, Lance, 11, and their mother, Joyce Ore, said Rodney had never spent the night at their house, and Ore said she had met Rodney only once and had never met his mother.
Police Lt. Ron Henderson, commander of the homicide unit, sat in his office Wednesday still trying to come to grips with Rodney's death. He couldn't get over how the mother didn't know where her son was. "I didn't understand it," he said softly. "He's a 10-year-old child."
Even worse, he was reliving the child's gruesome death. Rodney didn't die from just being mauled, he said. He was eaten to death.
"They were feeding off this kid," Henderson said. "I've seen over 1,500 bodies but I've never, never seen anything like this. Nobody has. He suffered big time. I'll never forget it, I'll tell you that."
Henderson added: "The pathologist said the kid was alive throughout the ordeal."
Nearby neighbors told police they heard Rodney's screams but thought it was dogs fighting, Henderson said. "They closed their blinds and went on about their business," he said.
When the boy's body was found, police began to go through their missing person reports, then the public school system for absent students.
A basketball found at the scene had the name "Rodney" written on it, and there was a Rodney McAllister Jr. on the schools' absentee list. Detectives went to his apartment at about 9 a.m. Tuesday and knocked on his mother's door.
Henderson paused when he recalled that the mother didn't know the whereabouts of her son or the phone number where she thought he might have spent the night.
The last time she saw him was about 5 p.m. Monday.
Henderson said he was so infuriated that he almost lost control.
Loman was charged Tuesday with endangering the welfare of a child. She is being held on \$5,000 bail. The Division of Family Services took Rodney's brother into custody Wednesday.
Loman left Malden, a farming community, in December and landed in a homeless shelter in St. Louis. Some family members say she was running from the weapons charge, but others say she came to St. Louis seeking drug rehab.
Rodney showed up at Hamilton Elementary in St. Louis, his former school, the week in December that the area was hit with a big snowstorm. He didn't have a coat.
Lori Ward, his teacher there, got him one. Another day during recess, Rodney looked at his hands and asked Ward how much gloves cost. When Ward brought him a pair the next day, he pulled them on. "These match," he told her, sounding surprised.
"He was just a sweetheart who wanted to be loved," Ward said. "And you couldn't help but love him."
He even gave Ward a hug every day at the end of school, no matter how many times she'd had to ask him to be quiet that day.
"He came in, and he needed somebody bad," Ward said.
This is a horrible story - a tragedy that should have never happened. But it did.
A precious gift - a child - who lived 10 short, hard years met a horrible end to life here in this place. This is not how I wanted to remember this little boy I learned about through reading this tragic story on an informative list by a wonderful man who has struggled so hard, has seen and felt and tasted poverty, homelessness and despair and yet rose above it all to become one of the most staunch supporters of what some people term America's "underclass." Creator bless you Ruben.
This should have never happened, we might say. And quickly, all blame is placed upon Rodney's mother. But she is not entirely to blame. Where were the people who lived near this family and saw Rodney regularly? Why didn't the teacher or school do something? A child comes into school in the cold of winter and has no coat and gloves and nothing is done? It was a wonderful thing for his teacher to gift him a winter coat, but his survival - his very life needed so much more than the warmth of a winter coat.
His family needed help. Where were the high-paid public servants - the social workers from the Missouri Department of Human Services? Where were they? Once again, the excuse is too many caseloads - overcrowded - and one of "those kids who fell through the cracks."
For Rodney, a precious child - a child filled with promise - who entered this world - who had his entire life stretched before him - only made it to his 10th year and died a horrible death that is so difficult to even speak of, let alone imagine.
But I don't want to remember Rodney that way. I want to remember him as a valuable human being - a gift - a child with the delight and wonder of a child - a child who had he lived, could have gifted the world with things we shall never know about.
Let's NOT allow this precious child's death to be in vain - in the paper one day, forgotten the next.
THESE ARE OUR CHILDREN! We owe them something.
We owe them love, protection, comfort, guidance and appreciation for the beautiful gift of life - new life they give to this earth - the 7th Generation as we Indians believe. As all people say, the children are our future. Well, it's about TIME, we started nurturing that future, protecting and cherishing each and every precious child that is upon this earth.
LET RODNEY STAND AS A REMINDER TO US ALL - THAT LIFE IS A PRECIOUS GIFT AND IT MATTERS NOT THE COLOR, SEX, ECONOMIC STATUS - NONE OF THAT MATTERS - EACH AND EVERY ONE IS SPECIAL, UNIQUE AND THERE IS NONE LIKE US ANYWHERE IN THIS WORLD.
THERE WAS ONLY ONE RODNEY MCALLISTER, JR.
Eduardo Calzada 3-month-old
March 8, 2004
Calzada died as a result of blunt force trauma to the head after sustaining multiple skull fractures.
March 31, 2005 ? Kathy Jean Scott, age 41, was arrested in the 8100 block of Laborough Drive on an arrest warrant which was issued on March 4, 2005, charging murder and child endangerment.
On March 8, 2004, at approximately 0653 hours officers responded to 5311 Glacier Springs Drive regarding an infant death. Eduardo Calzada was found dead in the master bedroom. Calzada was a foster child and lived in the home of Kathy Scott, the foster mother. Calzada died as a result of blunt force trauma to the head after sustaining multiple skull fractures. This investigation has been ongoing for one year. The investigation has included specialized examination by various experts specifically in the area of infant deaths. Once the investigation concluded, the case was submitted to the Kern County District Attorney's Office for review and a warrant for Scott's arrest was issued. She was no longer living at the Glacier Springs address. She was located at her current address on Laborough Drive where she was arrested without incident and booked into the Kern County Jail.
Original news release
March 8, 2004 ? Bakersfield Police Department detectives are investigation a suspicious death at 5311 Glacier Springs Drive involving a 3 month old boy. This morning at 6:52 a.m., Bakersfield Police and Fire Departments responded to a 911 call at the address and when they arrived the infant was already deceased. Fire Department personnel noticed suspicious circumstances that may or may not be related to the infant's death and Police Department Investigations responded to investigate. At this point,the investigation is being handled as suspicious until the cause of death is determined. The child's autopsy will take place today. The child resided at the residence which is a licensed private foster care home. The foster mother and other care providers in the home are being questioned regarding the infant's death.
Four other foster children in the home have been placed into protective custody pending the outcome of the investigation.
Stephanie Ramos 8-year-old
Home of Dead Foster Child Was Called Clean by Agency
City officials said yesterday that the home of the severely disabled 8-year-old girl whose body was found in a garbage truck on Wednesday had been visited a total of four times by three different caseworkers since March and each time was reported to be clean.
But law enforcement officials stood by earlier statements that the house was disgusting and unsanitary to the point that it should have been detected by anyone visiting.
At the arraignment on Thursday of the girl's foster mother, Renee Johnson, prosecutors said her Queens home was littered with fecal matter, vomit, maggots and hypodermic needles. Yesterday, law enforcement officials said they had a video of the house to prove it.
On Wednesday, Ms. Johnson confessed to wrapping the 28-pound body of her foster daughter Stephanie Ramos in a garbage bag and leaving it on an Upper East Side sidewalk. The body was later found crushed in a garbage truck. Ms. Johnson told the police that Stephanie, who was blind and had cerebral palsy and diabetes, had died from an illness, which had caused Ms. Johnson to panic and dispose of the body.
But on Thursday in Manhattan Criminal Court, the assistant district attorney, Joan Illuzzi-Orbin, implied that neglect could have played a role in the child's death, calling the conditions in the home ''the most despicable, filthy, horrible situation.''
Law enforcement officials said that to see why the filth was overlooked, they would be looking into the relationship between Ms. Johnson and Variety/Cody Gifford House for Children with Special Needs and its parent, the Association to Benefit Children, which was under contract with the city to to oversee Stephanie's foster care. Both organizations have steadfastly refused to take repeated calls from reporters.
Maclean Guthrie, a spokeswoman for the city's Administration for Children's Services, said the agency was in the midst of its own extensive review of the case. But as of now, she said, ''Our records indicate no unsatisfactory living conditions.''
She said that a city caseworker had visited the home in March and that a different caseworker from the Association to Benefit Children had visited the house once each in April and May. Both caseworkers reported the house satisfactorily clean, if a little cluttered. In addition, Ms. Guthrie said, an inspector from the Association to Benefit Children visited the home in June and recertified it as appropriate for foster children.
Two other foster children who were living with Ms. Johnson at the time of Stephanie's death have been removed from her care. Ms. Johnson, who has been charged with tampering with evidence and with illegal disposal of a body, remains in jail in $50,000 bail.
Since Stephanie is believed to have died in Queens, it would be up to Richard A. Brown, the borough's district attorney, to file additional charges related to the child's death. His spokesman said yesterday that Mr. Brown was considering such charges but was awaiting multiple reports from the medical examiner, evaluating the cause and time of death as well as the presence of drugs in the girl's body.
The toxicology report is intended to investigate whether medications were administered to the girl, who had a variety of ailments and disabilities, and if so, whether they were administered properly.
Law enforcement officials said that determining whether a crime had been committed in the girl's death would be difficult because the life expectancy for such a profoundly disabled child is brief and because the girl's body had been mangled by the garbage truck. If the autopsy is inconclusive, the condition of the house could be a crucial factor in determining whether criminal neglect occurred, they said.
By LESLIE KAUFMAN AND MICHAEL BRICK
Published: July 12, 2003
Katelyn Frazier 3-year-old
Dec. of 1997 - Dec. 29, 2000
This is Katelyn's story
Katelyn Frazier was born in December of 1997 to Pennee Frazier. She entered the system just a short two months later when Pennee showed up at Alexandria's Carpenters Shelter with two small children, infant Katelyn and her older sister Jessica, three years old at the time. The Frazier children showed up at the nighttime only overflow area. Concerned workers at the shelter notified Social Services when they saw that they children were filthy, unwashed and smelled horrid. When Pennee told workers that she'd been living in a car with her children, it was pretty much the last straw. Social Services also found that Pennee suffered from a mental disorder, bipolar disorder which is also known as "manic depression" and was also struggling with substance abuse. They also noticed bruises on the children that shouldn't have come from everyday play. At the time Frazier stated "There was no abuse and neglect," Frazier said then. "We were staying in a shelter, and you can't take showers. They had some bruises, sure, but I could tell you where every one came from."
Within days Social Services obtained a mandatory removal order and both children were placed in a temporary foster home. Katelyn and Jessica would eventually be moved to a Fairfax foster care family where they would remain for seven months. The family informed Social Services that caring for an infant and a child with emotional problems was too much, they decided to split the children up and place them in separate foster homes.
The two new foster families lived in Alexandria, pretty close to each other and had become friends during parenting classes, so placing one sister in each household seemed the perfect solution. Zenia Reyes (30) and her fiancee, Corey Grant (31) took Jessica while Lesley Dodson and her husband Rich Wray took Katelyn. Both families were told that Frazier had all but exhausted her options and the two children would probably become available for adoption. Reyes and Grant told Social Services that they weren't interested in adopting a child with emotional problems but Dodson and Wray jumped at the chance. The couple had been unsuccessful in having children of their own and immediately told Social Services that they wanted to adopt Katelyn.
The shy withdrawn child suddenly turned into a bright, inquisitive toddler who brightened everyone's day. After 15 months of living with the Dodson's, Katelyn now called Leslie "mommy". The couple was so certain they would be allowed to adopt Katelyn that they took her with them on a trip to Florida to meet extended family and celebrate what they thought was "Kate's" adoption. They would never have guessed what awaited them on their return.
Social Services attempted to have Frazier's parental rights terminated, which would have let the Dodson's adopt Katelyn, but Juvenile and Domestic Relations Court Judge Nolan B. Dawkins ruled that Social Services had not met the great burden needed to terminate parental rights. He also ordered Social Services to come up with a foster care solution with reuniting the family in mind, rather than termination of parental rights.
City officials started making plans for visits in Maryland and moving towards the direction of reuniting Jessica and Katelyn with their mother. The visits that Pennee had with her children disturbed the foster parents as much as it did the children. Upon being returned to the foster families, both girls would come back late, exhausted and filthy from head to toe. Jessica's long hair would be so matted with food and dirt that Reyes eventually cut it.
In the meantime, Social Services was becoming more concerned with Dodson's attachment to Katelyn and over stepping her role as a foster parent. In mid October of 1999 Katelyn returned from a weekend visit at the Frazier's with red area's on her bottom. Frazier's father (Donald Frazier) had been ordered by Social Services to never be left alone with Katelyn as he had been previously convicted of one count of sodomy on a child several times during the boys childhood (from ages 8-14). The redness on Katelyn's bottom was of serious concern. Dodson rushed Katelyn to the hospital where she was examined but a sex expert from Maryland would later follow up and determine that it was "diaper rash"
In November, Jessica's teacher noticed bruises on her bottom after another visit with the Frazier's. She reported the incident to Maryland officials and yet again, the report was determined to be unfounded. Yet, Social Services had become concerned enough about the Frazier's to write a letter to Alexandria officials opposing putting the girls back in the Frazier's home. This letter would be disregarded and the children would be returned to Frazier on February 14.
Dodson immediately filed a petition seeking custody of Katelyn and asking that she immediately be removed from the home. Wray's grandfather (retired Marine Col. Paul Maginnis) began calling everyone he could think of including Attorney General Mark L. Early, who charged right on in. The state lawyers filed an emergency motion arguing that it was illegal to send the girls back to Maryland over the objections of officials there. Dawkins reversed himself and the social workers removed the children from the home just ten days after being there.
Jessica was returned to Reyes and Grant but Katelyn was moved to another foster family. By this time, Pennee had given birth to her third child and was pregnant with her fourth. Alexandria officials had moved her into a publicly subsidized apartment and Levin, the soon to be father of baby number four, went with her.
In May of that year, Jessica arrived for a long term visit. In August, Pennee's fourth child was born and in late September Katelyn arrived for a long term visit. City official retained custody of the children.
Dodson was fighting for a child's life, for a child that she considered her own, when she appealed Dawkins previous ruling. However, Kloch ruled that Katelyn had a "strong and positive" attachment to her biological mother and it would serve no purpose to remove her from the home.
Just a short eight weeks later, Dodson, who had been ordered to stay away from Katelyn, was granted one last visit with her .... this time ... to say a final goodbye before Katelyn died.
What Happened To Katelyn?
On December 27, 2000, police were called to the Frazier home be Pennee who claimed her daughter had fallen on the floor and wouldn't get up. What police found when they entered the home was beyond horrifying. The home was described as "squalor" with overflowing rotting garbagedirty dishes throughout the house, food ground into the floor and in the midst of it all, lie 33 pound Katelyn. Her siblings didn't fair but better than she had, but at least they were alive. One sibling had a rash over 80% of his body and another had double ear infections that required serious antibitoics to cure.
Katelyn, the sweet child that Dodson had fought so hard to keep, to protect, lie in the middle of the mess, unresponsive and not breathing. Frazier and Levin gave inconsistant stories to the police about Katelyn's injuries. The city took the three remaining children into custody. But it was too late for Katelyn. She had over twenty five bruises on her body, most inflicted during the fatal beating. Seventeen of those bruises were on her head and face. She had bruises on her cheeks, forehead, eyes, mouth, back, hip and legs. She was rushed to the hospital where doctors did their best to save her life, but it was no use. Katelyn Frazier had suffered severe brain damage due to the beatings she took to her head and face, she would never open her eyes again. She would never run, play and laugh as other children do, for all intesive purposes, Katelyn Frazier was dead.
When Dodson heard of the beating, she rushed to the hospital to try to see her, but hospital officials denied her entry. Not only were they not allowed to see her, but they were refused even the smallest information regarding her condition. Dodson then stormed into the Social Services office and demanded that she be allowed to see Katelyn. "You failed me and you failed Katelyn, you're not going to fail her again." she told them. Social Services relented and allowed the Dodson's one last visit with Katelyn.
The staff at Children's Hospital tried their best to prepare the Dodson's for what they would see, but nothing could have prepared Leslie for what she saw. Three year old Katelyn was lying on a hospital gurney, a sheet tucked carefully around her waist. A machine was breathing for her, keeping her alive so that her organs could be donated, she wasn't breathing on her own.
Sobbing, Leslie pressed her cheek against Katelyn's and began kissing her, this child she had loved as her own, had tried to protect. "You play with all the Barneys' and all the Elmos and all the Poohs," Dodson whispered softly into her ear, "You just play. Because for the first time, you can be a child, and no one will hurt you."
Katelyn died on December 29, 2000 from blunt head trauma.
In August of 2001, Pennee Frazier plead guilty to charges of failing to protect her daughter from abuse and neglect. She would admit to watching Levin beat her children weekely and doing nothing to stop him. She would also plead guilty to various child abuse charges and be sentenced to 15 years in prison. Asher Levin was convicted of felony murder, along with two felony convictions of child abuse and neglect. He was sentenced to serve 18 years in prison. Two employee's of Social Services closest to the case were placed on adminstrative leave with pay pending an investigation.
In the end, three year old Katelyn was dead. Social Services did indeed fail this child and many many more. Katelyn is gone, but her memory will forever live on.
This is Katelyn's story, may you rest in peace little one.
Michael Wendt 2-year-old
A Pittsburgh man punched to death his 2-year-old foster child, Michael Wendt, in 1991
Christyuna Mickens 33-days-old
One child survived abuse, but her sister didn't
CAHOKIA - Christyuna Mickens was only 33 days old when an ambulance rushed her to Cardinal Glennon Children's Hospital in St. Louis with nine fractured ribs.
A medical report stated the infant's injuries were "highly suspicious."
The Illinois Department of Children and Family Services took Christyuna and her sister, Rashae, then 3, into protective custody two days later on Oct. 21, 1999.
A state child abuse investigator initially determined that their mother, Lenora Russell, or her live-in boyfriend, Christopher Mickens, had abused or neglected Christyuna, but there was no official determination of who broke the baby's ribs.
DCFS workers faced a difficult dilemma: Who do you trust -- the mother, the boyfriend, or neither?
"(Russell's) parenting skills are a problem in that she has not met the minimum parenting standards in terms of protecting her child," a DCFS caseworker wrote in a report.
The state required Russell and Mickens to receive counseling and attend parenting classes and eventually returned Russell's children to her.
Mickens continued to live in a house in East St. Louis with Russell and the children, even though he failed to attend the parenting classes or counseling sessions, according to case documents Russell provided to the newspaper.
A caseworker ignored this and failed to take action, according to a child death summary by the DCFS Office of the Inspector General.
Russell gave birth to Natoria Mickens in October 2002 after the family moved to Cahokia. Less than two months later, Natoria died from shaken baby syndrome.
In December 2004, Mickens pleaded guilty to killing Natoria and received nine years in prison. Mickens said the infant's irreversible brain damage was from an accident.
Child protection investigator Steven Blair wrote in a confidential DCFS report supplied by Russell: "(Russell) admitted she suspected that Christopher Mickens caused the injuries to Christyuna in 1999," but didn't tell authorities.
"I asked Ms. Russell that knowing all she knows about Christopher Mickens if she didn't have concerns about leaving the children with him, and she stated she guessed she was stupid," Blair wrote.
"Ms. Russell stated that she doesn't know why, but she 'loves that boy.'"
When Russell lost her children for the second time, after Natoria's death, investigator Blair again became concerned.
"Lenora appeared to be having some sort of breakdown," Blair wrote after a judge ordered Russell's children be removed again.
"She was holding her head and moving in very jerky movements, and it sounded as if she stated she was hearing voices," Blair noted.
After Natoria's death, Russell got her children back 16 months later after she agreed, once again, to take parenting classes and meet with counselors.
Today, her children -- Rashae, 10, Christyuna, 7, Kattie, 4 and 2-year-old Arterio -- live with their mother in a small, rented house in Cahokia. She said she has no boyfriend or job and spends her time with her kids.
During a recent interview at her home, Russell said: "You can't tell what a person is going to do to your children. I never saw this coming. You can't tell what's in a person's mind."
After the interview, Russell showed a News-Democrat reporter a room full of toys where her four neatly dressed children were playing.
"Don't they look well taken care of?" she asked.
"My baby's dead, and she's never coming home. All I got is a picture of her on the wall," she said of Natoria.
Russell said she no longer takes medication for chronic depression because her mental problems ended when she got her kids back.
"I don't need that stuff," she said.
By George Pawlawczyk and Beth Hundsdorfer
Krysdiunbria Midkiff 2-year-old
Died about 2 p.m. Monday,May 28, 2007
Mother says girl scalded herself in bath
A woman who initially claimed her daughter was burned after falling into a Galveston beach campfire this weekend has now told investigators the fatal injury occurred days earlier when the toddler was bathing at their east Houston apartment, authorities said Tuesday.
Yokandra Lanett Midkiff, 24, was charged Tuesday with felony injury to a child after her daughter, 2-year-old Krysdiunbria, died Monday afternoon at Memorial Hermann-The Texas Medical Center.
Midkiff apparently concocted the campfire alibi and delayed seeking medical attention for her daughter because she was afraid her children, including a 9-month-old son, would be taken away from her, said Estella Olguin with Child Protective Services.
"She realized Sunday night when her child was really, really sick that she needed to get help," Olguin said.
Doctors were unable to save the child Monday, when Midkiff brought her to the hospital.
"She was not conscious," Olguin said. "She had been in a coma ? suffering from severe infections from the burns."
From the beginning, investigators doubted Midkiff's account of what happened after hospital staff said the burns appeared to have resulted from immersion in scalding water.
Midkiff told investigators she was drawing a bath for her and her daughter between 7 and 8 p.m. Friday at their apartment in the 700 block of Coolwood. She said her child climbed in the tub by herself.
"The mother claims she sat there and didn't make a noise," Olguin said.
However, the water in the tub was hot enough to cause third-degree burns to the child's buttocks, genitals, legs and feet.
"When (Midkiff) got her out of the tub, her skin was falling off," Olguin said.
Investigators don't think the child would have remained in water that was hot enough to scald her.
"She would have tried immediately to get out," Olguin said. "The child had to have been in excruciating pain. She had to have been screaming."
Midkiff's daughter will be examined to see whether she had any other injuries consistent with abuse. Her brother, now staying with an aunt, also will be given a complete physical examination, Olguin said.
CPS took custody of the child in September 2004, after her mother tested positive for marijuana and muscle relaxants.
Since custody was returned to Midkiff, Olguin said CPS had not received any calls about the family.
One child is injured. Another is dead. A third child was born behind bars.
Crystal Board, one prosecutor said, is "not somebody we want to see having access to children."
Board, 24, of Colerain Township, was convicted Tuesday in Hamilton County Common Pleas Court on charges of child endangering and felonious assault after admitting she bit and broke the arm of her boyfriend's 22-month-old son.
Prosecutors said Board gave birth while awaiting trial in the Hamilton County Justice Center.
Meanwhile, in Butler County, Board's 14-month-old daughter, Alexis Board, was killed.
When Board couldn't care for her daughter after her arrest, Hamilton County Job and Family Service social workers placed Alexis with her biological father, who is now accused of killing the child.
"This defendant is not capable of properly caring for or being responsible for any child," Assistant Hamilton County Prosecutor Megan Shanahan said. "She displayed such out of control rage with the 2-year-old baby she was clearly in over her head.
"This is not somebody we want to see having access to children at this point in her life," Shanahan said.
Board was arrested Dec. 5, records show.
The previous night she was baby-sitting her live-in boyfriend's son, Jared Fowler, when Fowler suffered a deep bite to his cheek and a broken right arm, Shanahan said.
Board called her boyfriend, who came home. Together they took Jared to Cincinnati Children's Hospital Medical Center, records show.
Tests showed Jared had a healing broken leg and foot and a healing bite mark, Shanahan said.
Board said she was "play biting" the toddler and that he broke his arm after getting it caught in the slats of crib, both explanations discounted by doctors, Shanahan said.
Tests showed Alexis had not been harmed, Shanahan said.
Hamilton County Job and Family Services placed Alexis with her biological father, Rod Vanloan, 32, of Fairfield.
Fairfield Police Detective Sandy Sears testified in Fairfield Municipal Court last week that Vanloan kicked Alexis twice May 5 while trying to teach her to walk and that Alexis fell and hit her head.
Alexis died the next day of a head injury, according to Butler County Prosecutor Robin Piper.
Vanloan is charged with murder and child endangering, a press release from Piper's office says.
Hamilton County Common Pleas Judge Alex Triantafilou will sentence Board June 8.
Who is caring for Board's baby, and the identity of the infant's father, are unclear. Job and Family Services spokesman Brian Gregg said the agency is not involved in that child's life.
As part of a plea agreement, she will serve one year in prison, followed by five years of supervision which must include parenting classes, Shanahan said.
Job and Family Services intervention: The agency got involved immediately after Esbin was born because his mother had no supplies or income. In-home services were given for four months, and the case was closed. Esbin's biological father, Oscar Rodriguez, who was visiting from Guatemala, beat his son on April 4, 2003. Esbin died five days later. At the hospital, doctors found the child had rib fractures that had started to heal.
Criminal case: Rodriguez, 24, was convicted of involuntary manslaughter. He is serving a 10-year prison sentence.
Terrell Peterson 5-year-old
Terrell's Story
At 4 year's old, Terrell had little to be thankful for on Thanksgiving Day, as he lay in an Atlanta emergency room. It was determined that he was a victim of battered-child syndrome, and that his step-grandmother was the abuser. When the court called to order in Terrell's case, the people who were supposed to help him, let him down. Terrell's caseworker never showed up in court with him. The judge had no choice, but to dismiss the case. The caseworker covered his tracks by backdating a memo stating that the judge found the step-grandmother innocent of abuse. The only flicker of hope for the young boy disappeared.
One week later, Terrell's step-grandmother struck again, this time burning the bottoms of his feet so badly, that he needed a skin graft from his hip to heal his wounds.
The next year of his life was a living hell. Terrell was repeatedly tied to a banister with pantyhose, and beaten with belts and shoes. At school, he was caught by a teacher looking through a trash dumpster for food. He was never visited by a caseworker during that year. He ended up in the emergency room once again.
Doctors struggled to restart Terrell's 5-year-old heart. They saw all the signs of brutality and abuse on his little body. He had the cuts, the bruises, the burns and he weighed only 29 pounds. Terrell died at the hospital. The coroner had difficulty determining cause of death. The final cause was written as: blunt impact trauma to head, trunk, and extremities.
Terrell's step-grandmother was charged with his murder.
Currently, Don Keenan, a children's rights advocate, is suing Georgia's Department of Family and Children's Services for Terrell. Read about this case.
Jordan Heikamp 36-day-old
Only in death did he begin to matter: Jordan was mentioned by name only five times in the social worker's 59-page service log
Alive, Jordan was only ever lightly upon this Earth. He never cracked the five-pound barrier. He knew loneliness, ignominy and the pain of hunger. His world consisted of a small darkened room at the top of the stairs in a downtown Toronto native women's shelter, the respective confines of a donated stroller and a borrowed crib, the edges of a tightly wrapped receiving blanket around his face always bracketing his view of the passing parade.
In no real way was he seen, heard, fed. He did not matter. He did not count. He had no impact. He made no dent. When, early on the morning that would have marked Jordan's 36th sunrise, he died, everything changed.
He became profoundly important.
The death of the baby upon whom the great Canadian welfare state had spent directly not one red cent triggered a massive outpouring of public cash, almost $2-million, the great bulk of it to defend, one way or another, the publicly funded agency that had declared him "a child in need of protection" and its employee who had failed to keep him safe -- the Catholic Children's Aid Society of Toronto and social worker Angie Martin.
Round one, a 79-day preliminary hearing that saw charges of criminal negligence causing death dismissed against both Mrs. Martin and Jordan's mother, Renee Heikamp, has already cost Ontario taxpayers a whopping $998,662 -- or $12,641 a day -- for Mrs. Martin and the Society's legal representation alone.
At the same approximate hourly rates for approximately the same number of lawyers from the same firms, the tab for round two -- the 53-day coroner's inquest that yesterday went to the jurors -- likely will top a minimum of another $500,000 just for Mrs. Martin and her employer.
Add to that the publicly borne costs of lawyers for Ms. Heikamp (Paula Rochman, whose wages were capped at an average $75 an hour by the Ontario Legal Aid Plan, will end up billing about $120,000 total for the two proceedings) and the other publicly funded institutions that were represented by counsel at the inquest, plus costs for Crown counsel and police at two proceedings, and salaries for the preliminary hearing judge, the inquest coroner and other courtroom staff.
But lawyers, and money, are the least of it.
Jordan died on June 23, 1997.
Though it was instantly apparent that he had wasted unto skin and bone, it took almost three weeks before forensic tests ruled out any underlying disease and experts determined that he had, indeed, died of chronic starvation. That shocking news broke first in a front-page story in The Toronto Star, complete with ominous references to an ongoing Toronto Police investigation, on Saturday, July 12. This will stand as Jordan's posthumous birth date, because it was only then -- the police sniffing about, the hounds of the press baying, the public horrified that an infant could have died this way in the very epicentre of urban affluence -- that the baby began to count in the very places, and with the very people, where until then he had been invisible and insignificant.
At the head office of the Catholic CAS, one of their own apparently in jeopardy, senior agency employees swung into action with speed, efficiency and a strength of purpose that stand in sharp contrast to the way that Jordan's actual case had been handled. The baby had only ever been mentioned by name five times in the 59-page "service log" of documents Mrs. Martin generated before he died. Three of these references Mrs. Martin copied directly from a report created by someone else; none was of the warmish personal variety with which she had frequently described his then 19-year-old mother.
But now, there was a "Baby Jordan media relations" plan quickly put in place, and one of the Society's first corporate acts after the cause of Jordan's death became common knowledge was to bring on board the public relations firm of Bonner Communications to help the agency respond to the barrage of media coverage.
Indeed, as events continued to unfold, this early reaction appears to have set in stone the tone of what would become the Society's enduring response to Jordan's death: First, try to spin the press and contain the damage; second, close ranks around Mrs. Martin; third, denounce criticism and scrutiny as mean-spirited or uninformed; fourth, cite provincial spending cutbacks as the underlying problem; finally, vigorously and to the end defend Mrs. Martin and the quality of her work because to protect her was to protect the institution itself.
Nothing captures this so well as what Colin Maloney, the Jesuit-trained theologian and philosopher who was then the agency's long-time executive director, wrote in an internal e-mail to his entire staff on July 17, five days after the Star story appeared.
This e-mail, and more than two dozen others, were directed to "Everyone" -- presumably to the agency's 400 full-time staff. The National Post has obtained copies.
"Like many of you, when I saw the Star story, I couldn't believe it," Dr. Maloney wrote that day.
"When I went on vacation, I knew that a baby had died but the cause of death was unknown. Under the circumstances, the worker had acted reasonably and did what any prudent worker would be expected to do. I could not understand why this case was causing such an uproar against CCAS."
He added, "It is discouraging to be dedicated to helping children, working without the necessary supports and then to be treated in the press as criminals."
It had just been revealed that a five-week-old child had starved to death while under the agency's supervision.
The police probe was barely begun.
And the Catholic CAS had undertaken no investigation of its own -- indeed, it never would complete the only one it was mandated to do.
But the man at the top of the agency had already pronounced Mrs. Martin reasonable and prudent -- in effect, utterly blameless -- painted her as the victim of unfair attacks, and attributed to her the noble intentions and the sense of calling that are the hallmarks of the best social workers. By July 25, as Wendy Vineyard, then CCAS's public relations manager, told employees in an e-mail, agency spokespersons, armed with statistics on the sweeping funding cuts that had begun two years previous with the election of the Mike Harris Conservatives, were being sent out for interviews where they "expressed deep sadness and concern about the death of the baby."
By July 29, the society's executive team had met the boss of the PR company, Allan Bonner, and in another e-mail sent this day, Dr. Maloney reported that "Michael Valpy of The Globe and Mail is writing an article which will appear in Friday's edition." When indeed the story appeared, with Mr. Valpy ruling the "instant inclination to blame someone, to hunt out who was responsible for Jordan's well-being and failed him," Dr. Maloney hailed it as "fair" and sent it out on the internal e-mail system.
(In the spirit of full disclosure, it should be mentioned that I was then working as a columnist for The Toronto Sun newspaper; in fact, it was donations from the paper's readers that paid for the marker on Jordan's grave. My harsh columns about this case were condemned by Dr. Maloney. As he wrote in a July 17 memo, "I think we need to hold on to the truth of our good work for this is what will remain and the articles of Christie will be long forgotten." That said, I wasn't the only journalist who got under his skin. Moira Welsh and Kevin Donovan were the Star reporters who broke the story of Jordan's death as part of their award-winning series on child abuse. On Aug. 21, the executive director told his staff of a conversation he'd had that day with Ms. Welsh. "I also told her to tell Donovan that I am surprised that with so much hard work and knowledge on his part that he has found so little wisdom or compassion.")
On Aug. 7, the society was notified that police were going to charge both Mrs. Martin and Renee Heikamp with criminal negligence causing death.
By Aug. 12, Dr. Maloney was reporting to his staff of "the humiliation and suffering that Angie is going through" -- this an apparent reference to her having been subjected to a partial strip search after she had turned herself in on Aug. 8 at a police station with one of her lawyers -- and regretting what he perceived as the "understandable" officers' motive for searching her this way.
"They want to punish someone for it," Dr. Maloney explained.
He also mentioned that the police were serving so many search warrants on the agency's branch offices that "it raises the spectre of a fishing expedition."
Indeed, by the time the preliminary hearing was underway, where Paul French of the Hughes, Amys firm functioned as the agency's usual legal counsel, the Catholic CAS had also retained high-profile lawyer Brian Gover as a search-warrant specialist.
Coupled with the members of the prominent Smith Lyons law firm who were defending Mrs. Martin -- Queen's Counsel Frank Marrocco and partners Glenn Hainey and Lynn Mahoney -- and in-house CCAS counsel Marvin Bernstein, who kept a watching brief on the hearing, this brought to six the number of lawyers variously involved in representing the worker and her agency.
It was also on Aug. 12 that Dr. Maloney sent staff another e-mail, praising the "quick thinking of some of Angie's colleagues," who, he said, had managed to shield her from the press at the police station, and thanking employees for their messages of support.
Mrs. Martin, Dr. Maloney wrote, both of them displaying a lack of irony that was remarkable in the circumstances of a starvation death, "described these messages as 'my nutrition.' "
By Aug. 14, Dr. Maloney, detailing another court appearance by Mrs. Martin, described her spirits as "amazingly centered and strong," and noted the show of support there had been from social workers, her union and senior staff.
Happily, Dr. Maloney also had a message from Mrs. Martin herself, in which she thanked her colleagues and the agency for "supporting me financially in order to be able to finally have one week of holiday with my family," pledged her love, and signed off, sounding rather like the late comic Red Skelton, with a cheery, "God Bless you all!"
In the lengthy quote Dr. Maloney attributed to her, Mrs. Martin said, "I promise you that I will continue fighting in the name of my children and in the name of all of you. I know that I have a big responsibility and believe me that I will try hard to get up to the end. When the time comes, we will be together and we will fight together for what is right for all of us.
"I wanted to let you know that even though the pain has been so great, today after court, I have felt more confident and I have more hope that we will win."
Win?
So it was a war, then, undeclared, but as real as any other.
The first battleground was the courts at Old City Hall in downtown Toronto where, starting in September of 1998, the preliminary hearing of Mrs. Martin and Ms. Heikamp began before Madam Justice Mary Hogan of the Ontario Court of Justice.
Known as a feminist and activist, Judge Hogan was the first woman to serve as Ontario's deputy attorney-general (she was an appointee of former New Democratic Premier Bob Rae) and the former head of the Parkdale Community Legal Services clinic in the gritty west end of the city. It was there, as a lawyer, Judge Hogan practiced poverty law that focused on landlord-tenant matters, immigration and welfare cases, and homelessness, and also coincidentally where years later, Ms. Heikamp's lawyer, Paula Rochman, would also hone her considerable skills as a law student.
In her now-five years in the Ontario Court, Judge Hogan has acquired a reputation as a judge either thoughtful or lenient, depending on who's doing the talking.
Certainly, her decision in this case was controversial.
The threshold for getting a criminal charge to trial is low, much below that required for conviction. The legal test is simple: There must be some evidence upon which, a reasonable jury properly instructed by a judge, could find the accused guilty.
After testimony that was spread out over seven months, Judge Hogan threw out the charges against both women.
In essence, the judge found that Ms. Heikamp's lies that she was taking Jordan to the doctor and that he was gaining weight explained the professionals' collective blindness to his precarious state and thus got Mrs. Martin off the hook, and that the professionals' blindness in turn excused the mother's and so allowed her to wriggle off it, too.
Judge Hogan appeared to agree with Ms. Rochman's portrayal of her client as a compliant young woman who might well have grown to become a successful parent. If only, Judge Hogan wrote, "someone had sat down with Ms. Heikamp and explained to her the critical importance of medical appointments and weight checks, she would have co-operated."
In fact, just weeks before the preliminary hearing had begun, that arguably generous view of Renee Heikamp was put to the test.
When she had been released on bail, it was in part on the understanding that she would stay with her own mother, Dianne, at her home in a small town north of Toronto.
Neither was Ms. Heikamp required to attend the preliminary, for in the face of Legal Aid's refusal to pay for a hotel, it would have meant a return to the shelter system from which she had just emerged, and where many of the very witnesses who would be testifying about her still worked.
And on the eve of the hearing starting before Judge Hogan, Ms. Heikamp told Ms. Rochman she was pregnant again, the pregnancy the result of a four-month liaison with a local man whose mother was already raising his son by one woman and who was at that time involved with another who had just discovered she too was pregnant
Ms. Rochman, who is both soft-hearted and hard-nosed, wasted no time phoning Ms. Heikamp's doctor up north, who already knew a little of the young woman's history, and filling him in on detail.
The local children's aid was already involved, and eventually, with Ms. Rochman's input, a plan was prepared whereby Ms. Heikamp would be allowed to keep the baby but only under careful supervision that called for daily nurse visits, regular weightings and doctors appointments.
With the authorities figuratively breathing down her neck, Ms. Heikamp did what Judge Hogan would later speculate she might have done with her first baby, Jordan -- got regular checkups, in this case prenatally.
Yet her conduct fell far short of demonstrating that she could have been moulded into a reasonable facsimile of a responsible parent with only a little push, here and there: She was, after all, under the proverbial gun when she took proper care of herself during the second pregnancy.
And Ms. Heikamp did little else to support any belief that this leopard had changed her spots.
Her mother eventually revoked her surety because she was spending her days at the local Country Style. Neither did Ms. Heikamp follow through on her oft-discussed plan to return to school. Ms. Rochman would make inquiries; Ms. Heikamp would stall, and it was only when the lawyer, herself a mother of three youngsters, flatly ordered her client to bring her proof that she was attending classes that she actually ever went.
In the spring of 1999, the hearing still underway, the Toronto Police officers in charge of the case learned Ms. Heikamp was pregnant.
In short order, Detectives Frank Simone and David Needham, as well as Ontario deputy coroner Dr. Jim Cairns, who went on later to preside at the inquest, wrote stern letters to the local children's aid, urging the baby be declared in need of protection.
As a result, five days after the little girl was born on April 1, under the threat of her imminent apprehension by the local children's aid, Ms. Heikamp signed an agreement to place the baby in temporary care. She was sent to live with a local foster family.
What followed was the classic high melodrama upon which Ms. Heikamp seems to thrive.
She named her former lover as the baby's biological father, then recanted, inspiring him, at the behest of his mother, to take a DNA test proving he was and provoking his family's curious and protracted battle to win custody of the baby girl for relatives living in another Ontario city; the couple with whom Ms. Heikamp was then living, and upon whom the children's aid was relying to keep tabs on her, split up, leaving her on her own; she moved in and out of various temporary shelters and boarding houses.
And, with no one to ride herd on her, the attention fading, the dubious excitement of the looming inquest beckoning, Ms. Heikamp just stopped showing up for her supervised access visits with her daughter. Was she bored, or had she merely lost heart?
Whichever, on two separate days last February, smack in the middle of the inquest, Ms. Heikamp signed off on the various papers that saw the little girl, who turned two just last weekend, made first a ward of the Crown and then adopted by her foster parents. The baby is reported to be the pet of a loving and stable family, and recent pictures reveal an impish, chubby child.
As Ms. Heikamp said a day or so after this deal was done, referring to herself in the odd manner of many professional athletes, "It doesn't matter now what Renee wants. It's what's best for X [her daughter]."
As always, even as she mouthed the right words, they rang hollow, for as late as the last fall, she was insisting she could provide a stable home for her little girl while doing absolutely nothing to actually make one -- and contributing to the almost two years it took for the baby's fate to be decided.
With the criminal charges swept aside, Crown prosecutors had a decision to make: Should they seek the remedy of a preferred indictment from the Ontario attorney-general, which if successful would send Ms. Heikamp and Mrs. Martin directly to trial, or let the inquest proceed?
"We felt Judge Hogan was wrong at law," Paul Culver, the veteran senior Toronto Crown, said last week.
"The consensus was, and we consulted a number of people, that Judge Hogan had made an error, that she had gone further than a preliminary hearing judge should, and made findings of credibility."
But Mr. Culver said the system has evolved "such that the defence is part of the decision-making process," that lawyers for Ms. Heikamp and Mrs. Martin could have made submissions, and that this, coupled with the expected delay in getting necessary transcripts from the lengthy preliminary, would have meant a trial might not have proceeded for as long as three years.
"More and more," he said, "and my own personal philosophy has changed on this, now we [prosecutors] ask, 'What are we going to accomplish with this prosecution?' " The feeling was that given the unpredictability of juries, and with a bereft young mother and a middle-aged social worker in the prisoner's box, convictions were no sure thing. "And if we convicted either or both of them," Mr. Culver said, "how much jail time would they get? What would it accomplish?"
In the end, knowing Dr. Cairns would call an inquest in any case, prosecutors decided better sooner than later.
In Canada, as Ontario chief coroner Dr. Jim Young wrote in his brief 1993 history, death investigation is a provincial responsibility, with some provinces, like Saskatchewan, Quebec, New Brunswick and British Columbia joining Ontario in opting for a coroner's system, and others operating with a medical examiner's one. In all, wide-ranging fatality inquiries or inquests may be called to examine the circumstances of a death.
The inquest is a quasi-judicial proceeding, with the coroner, a medical doctor, in the role of judge. The rules of evidence are less strict than in the criminal courts and the general tone less adversarial; the inquest jury is strictly prohibited from making findings of blame and its recommendations are usually directed to governments or the organizations they fund.
Witnesses testify with the protection of the Ontario Evidence Act, which means evidence cannot be used against them in other proceedings, though, as Dr. Young noted in his review, "in many cases, determining liability is a background issue."
The inquest has two primary purposes, both captured in the ringing motto of the Ontario coroner's office -- "We speak for the dead to protect the living."
Taken together, what all this should mean is that this is a better forum for a truth-seeking exercise than the criminal courts, where an accused's liberty is at stake, his right to a fair trial paramount.
Arguably, this ought to have been particularly the case at the Heikamp inquest, for charges against the two most significant players -- Ms. Heikamp and Mrs. Martin -- had already been laid, and dismissed.
Yet on the morning of Jan. 9 this year, when the inquest convened before a five-member jury and Dr. Cairns, eight parties with a significant interest in the proceedings had been granted standing and the front benches were crowded with lawyers, some of them familiar faces.
Present were counsel for Northwestern hospital; for the hospital nurses; for the doctors and for CUPE, the union representing the various social workers and counsellors. For the Anduhyaun shelter was Susan Hare; for Ms. Heikamp, Ms. Rochman; for the Society, Mr. French, and for Mrs. Martin, Mr. Hainey and an intermediate-level lawyer from his firm, Emily Cole, the two of them occasionally supplanted with Ms. Mahoney.
It became quickly evident that even with the lawyers for these disparate parties appearing to blame one another, most were singing from the same songbook, and that the popular working theory was that what happened to baby Jordan was a tragedy borne of a system under siege.
This notion of systemic failure -- its most beloved expression has Jordan "falling through the cracks" of a cruelly under funded safety net where overburdened social workers all strive mightily to guard their vulnerable charges -- found purchase in a variety of places, in the public domain beginning with Mr. Valpy's Globe and Mail column of Aug. 1, 1997, where he warned, "If the question is only, 'Who do we blame?,' we risk not asking, 'Why did the system fail?' "
On just the second day of the inquest, with Dr. John Watts, a pediatrician and expert witness in the stand, Mr. French laid out the agency's official view of Jordan's death.
"To some extent," Mr. French asked, "baby Jordan was born into a system, to some extent? Yes?"
"Yes," said Dr. Watts.
"And without debating the point too extensively, sometimes when things go wrong it's a system problem as opposed to a person problem, is that fair enough?"
Dr. Watts replied, "It's actually more likely to be a system's problem than a person's problem."
But the sum of his evidence was that the two things -- system and people failures -- could occur separately or co-exist, and that he found it astonishing and appalling that anyone, let alone helping professionals, "could have looked at that baby [Jordan]" and not recognized that he was very ill, as early on as a week to 10 days before he died.
Yet to varying degrees, all the central players in Jordan's death took up this battle cry.
In the mounds of paper with which the jurors have been deluged, among hundreds of suggested recommendations, are pleas for better training (for hospital nurses; social workers; shelter counsellors; doctors and pediatricians) in dozens of areas (breastfeeding; street culture, even special courses for the various professionals to help them understand one another's purportedly intimidating jargon) and expensive proposals such as the establishment of walk-in medical clinics within youth shelters to better catch the approximately 200 street teens who get pregnant in Toronto every year.
But the baby did not fall tumbling through great gaps in a troubled system.
The system was, albeit in the imperfect manner of a complex bureaucracy, rather perfectly in place.
Ms. Heikamp was living at the Youth Without Shelter (YWS) residence when, after years of claiming to be pregnant, she discovered she actually was.
There, she had the good fortune of having, as her primary worker, a woman she called "Mum" -- Lidia Bravatti, a pragmatic type who liked the teenager, but recognized she needed an immense amount of help to prepare for motherhood and proceeded to get it for her.
Ms. Bravatti bent the rules to allow Ms. Heikamp to stay at the shelter until a sought-after spot at Massey Centre, the Cadillac of maternity homes, opened up, and talked to her at length about the life-altering responsibility that having a child brings.
Continued from part one. In early March of 1997, Massey Centre found a room for Ms. Heikamp, and Ms. Bravatti put her into a taxi and sent her on her way.
But Ms. Heikamp instead directed the cab to another shelter, Horizons for Youth, where she stayed until she delivered Jordan at Northwestern hospital, by emergency Caesarean section, on May 18.
Essentially, her prenatal care was non-existent, but for visits to emergency rooms and walk-in clinics when Ms. Heikamp herself had a problem of one sort of another.
Pregnancy is the make-it-or-break time for young street mothers: If they begin to solve their problems during this period -- show any nesting instinct and start to prepare for the baby's arrival; stop using drugs or alcohol, if they have those difficulties (Ms. Heikamp didn't), and take care of themselves -- they likely will be good and caring parents.
A surprising number, as Ms. Bravatti put it, simply "rise to the occasion."
But many do not, and the best test comes before they deliver. As one former long-time foster mother for an Ontario children's aid society said last week, "At some point, they all find out they're pregnant, and usually, they have six to nine months to get their act together; 99% of the time, if they don't do it, if they wait until after the baby is born, the child will end up in care."
Her experience was that she would first get a baby of four or five weeks; then the child-welfare agency would arrange for the mother to have supervised access, and the baby would be taken away for visits; then the young mother would stop showing up, the infant returned. After several months, the woman said, and she saw the proof in their fallen faces afterward, the babies simply abandoned hope.
Like Ms. Bravatti, the Northwestern nurses made Renee Heikamp for what she was-- at the least, a monumentally self-absorbed young woman -- almost instinctively.
Despite the initial observation of Janet Yanchula, a gentle woman with decades on the job, who was there when Ms. Heikamp first walked into the nursery after her C-section and so saw Jordan first open his eyes to the sound of his young mother's voice, it would have taken more than this fleeting instance of tenderness to convince these seasoned realists that this was a teen mum who would manage.
They continued to watch Ms. Heikamp, on the infrequent and brief occasions she was at the nursery. Soon, they saw more than enough to alarm them, and, after discussion with a doctor, reported their suspicions about her to the Catholic CAS.
Mrs. Martin was assigned.
Again, the system had worked: A risky mother had been identified as such, and promptly reported to the appropriate authority, the agency with the statutory duty to protect Jordan.
Discharged on May 29 to Mrs. Martin and Ms. Heikamp, he should have been safe as pie.
"In this business, you cannot guarantee kids won't get hurt or die," Bruce Hardy, the executive-director of the Westcoast Family Resources Society in British Columbia, said in a recent interview.
"But coming into care shouldn't make your life worse, and goddamnit, you shouldn't die."
But Mrs. Martin never really considered the baby her client, but rather his mother.
Her remarkably sloppy notes are replete with references to her that are so sympathetic they practically leap, cooing, from the page.
The worker recorded every emotion she saw cross Ms. Heikamp's face and was quick to label her "very child-oriented," inexplicably quoting her saying, of Jordan, "Is my baby," as though this were hard evidence of her willingness to care for him.
Mr. Hardy, whose Westcoast agency works with about 100 families, the majority of them single mothers from the rough Vancouver east side, said this who-is-the-client debate is an old one. "We've had this in B.C.," he said. "I guess it's hard to relate to an infant, so workers relate to the young adult. With us, it's black and white -- the child comes first."
Had Mrs. Martin brought even a modicum of that attitude, or a whit of the skepticism of the Northwestern nurses to her view of Ms. Heikamp, she too ought to have been alarmed.
The worker was quite correct when she wrote that this young woman, who turned 23 in January, "presents well."
Ms. Heikamp is built like an athlete, with a powerful body and proud carriage. Her gaze is bright and focused, her wide smile engaging. For a high school dropout, she is literate and articulate (far more so than Mrs. Martin, who in her records correctly spelled barely a single name or place), reads easily, and has a wide vocabulary. She is approachable, laughs at the right times and is pleasant company.
But for all her presentation skills, there are readily apparent clues that she is, in the modern parlance, a mile long and an inch deep.
Her emotions come and go like summer storms, and for all their tumultuousness, seem to leave her essentially unaffected.
At the inquest, which she attended much of the time, she wept frequently, but for the most part, her tears came whenever the witness who was testifying was talking not about her dead child, but about her. Minutes later, she was often back to her normally sunny self.
She confides too quickly, and to those who are strangers or acquaintances, the sort of things most people tell only good friends -- a trick not unfamiliar to salesmen, or for that matter reporters, who may do the same thing to inspire trust.
Her stories about her life change like the wind; her plans are built on quicksand.
For the duration of the inquest, she was still living in the town north of Toronto, and commuting, usually by bus. When things began in January, she was sharing an apartment with friends; at some point, she said she had found her own place, but it turned out to be but a room in a Christian boarding house.
One day, Ms. Heikamp would talk about how, when the inquest ended, she had a job lined up at a Mississauga restaurant ("Fine dining," she called it); the next she was talking about going to a community college near the town; the next, she was going back to Toronto for school.
As her own stint in the witness stand was fast approaching, we walked once during a recess from the coroner's court to a nearby Starbucks. She was nervous about testifying, so I told her the story of my experience as the key witness in a libel trial while I was still at the Sun (the paper, for the record, successfully defended the case). "If you just tell the truth," I said, "you won't have to worry about being tripped up."
She asked, "But what will I say about why I lied about taking him [Jordan] to the doctor's?"
I ended up buying her a latte that day, and a half-dozen other mornings as well. A handful of inquest regulars were doing the same thing; some recesses, Ms. Heikamp was handed two coffees.
One morning, she arrived at court late.
Ms. Rochman had just finished cross-examining a witness when Ms. Heikamp bent down and whispered in her ear. She then took a seat, and I watched Ms. Rochman get a $20 bill from her purse and put it discreetly into an envelope, which she quietly passed back to her client: Ms. Heikamp had got a ride that day from a fellow who was outside in his car, waiting for her to kick in gas money.
While at the inquest, Ms. Heikamp stayed at a hotel across the street. That cost Ms. Rochman, who wanted her client to face as much of the music as she could bear, $3,000 out of her own pocket.
And this was the most telling, and the most constant, thing about Ms. Heikamp: Renee knows how to take care of Renee. When she needs something, or wants it, she gets it. If it is probable that she genuinely didn't know how to breastfeed, how is it possible this strong young woman could not have asked for help for her child? She is surely not stupid. Why would she have switched to formula and not bothered to glance at the directions on the can? The evidence is her breast milk was drying up by the time she left hospital and that the formula she made, with tap water, was watery gruel. Were the charms of Jordan simply wearing off?
To be perfectly fair, Ms. Heikamp came closer to accepting responsibility for her carelessness with the baby than anyone else. As Ms. Rochman once remarked privately, it was probably unrealistic to expect her to also face the truth of who, and what, she is.
This may be a simmering question, but it isn't the burning one. Ms. Heikamp was, after all, spotted as a potential risk to her child.
But given this, given the oft-contradictory (and thus transparent) tales she spun at the drop of a hat, how could Mrs. Martin and all those at Anduhyaun, which the social worker insisted on describing as "the pregnancy home," have bought Ms. Heikamp hook, line and sinker?
Seven Anduhyaun employees -- all women, all native, most mothers themselves, and indeed, most plump and deceptively motherly looking, though they were in the main a crispy lot -- testified.
The sum of their evidence was that in the 25 days that Jordan lived among them with Ms. Heikamp, they rarely heard or saw him. Only infrequently did one or another of them pick him up. Only one ever saw him unclothed, in a diaper. They claimed that though they thought him small, Ms. Heikamp's vague mutterings about him gaining weight and eating well assuaged any slight concern that might have sprung from his appearance.
At the end of the day, it was obvious that the shelter staff had over-sold to Mrs. Martin the squishy programs they offer residents -- a casual chat over a cigarette is labeled "general support" -- and that she was misled about what their bragged-of "nurses" would do.
These turned out to be one genuine registered nurse, and one former nursing assistant. Their testimony, wherein they explained at length how they had never functioned as nurses but as counsellors, was some of the most profoundly insulting evidence the jurors heard.
Yet for all the failures that emerged about Anduhyaun, funded by Ontario taxpayers to tune of $621,552, the fact remains that the shelter was to the Catholic CAS, with its current budget of $57,830,244, akin to a kid sister -- "a collateral," a community resource.
By law, the CCAS and its workers cannot delegate to any collateral their legal duty.
And from painful experience, no one should have been more aware of this than those staffers, Mrs. Martin among them, who had moved to the agency's Etobicoke/York office in west-end Toronto when the agency's former branch in High Park closed its doors in 1994.
It was from that High Park office where, in the spring that year, a baby named Sara Podniewicz was a client of the Catholic CAS.
Almost three years to the day before Jordan was born, Sara was supposedly "receiving services" from the society, as the lingo has it.
She was six months old when, gasping for breath and probably coughing up blood, her crack-addled parents found her in her little Kanga-Rocka-Roo infant chair. She had been there, dead, long enough that the blood pooled in her body in the distinctive pattern of the chair.
It was pneumonia that killed her, but at autopsy, it was discovered that Sara had 24 broken bones, including 16 fractured ribs, broken legs and a broken arm.
Her parents, Michael Podniewicz and Lisa Olsen, were charged with second-degree murder, and in the spring of 1996, went on trial, where it became crystal-clear that Sara had been spectacularly failed by many more than her parents.
Michael Podniewicz had so badly shaken another child, the couple's baby son Mikey Jr., that the little boy was left deaf, blind, paralyzed and with the permanent mental age he was -- 10 weeks -- at the time of the attack. Podniewicz was just barely out of jail, still on parole, when Sara was born.
One of the critical issues that emerged at the parents' trial -- they were convicted -- was that the Catholic CAS worker had been heavily relying on a collateral called the Canadian Mothercraft Society, whose own worker was supposed to visit the family weekly.
This woman, as it turned out, made only about half of the visits, and missed seeing blatant warning signs when she did show up, once actually putting foot jingles on Sara's fractured legs and watching cheerfully as the poor child gamely reached for her toes.
But she and the CCAS worker rarely spoke, and essentially functioned independently.
Yet there was Mrs. Martin, just a year after this much-publicized trial, this case involving a colleague from the same office surely fresh in her mind doing the same thing -- de facto delegating her legal responsibility for Jordan to Anduhyaun.
It is virtually inarguable that this is precisely what the 45-year-old worker did.
After settling mother and child into Anduhyaun on May 29, Jordan then just an ounce shy of five pounds and blossoming, she saw them only once again, and, in arranging this lone visit to her office, Mrs. Martin tried to wrangle things so that Ms. Heikamp would get a sitter and come alone, presumably so she could better talk to her "real" client without distraction.
In the witness stand at the inquest, where she testified for four days despite being on medication for depression, Mrs. Martin repeatedly offered the excuse of having been frightfully overworked -- made frantic by the demands of other, far more alarming cases. Why, she snapped several times, she was carrying a caseload of 38 files!
But a chart prepared for use at the preliminary hearing and obtained by the National Post, breaks down what she did every day of the baby's short life. It reveals that many of those 38 files were closed, or virtually inactive: Jordan's was the only case to which Mrs. Martin devoted any significant chunk of time, about 20 hours, not counting the long stints she put in on the computer.
Mrs. Martin was born and raised in Santiago, Chile.
Her first language is Spanish; she learned English only after coming to Canada in 1985.
But she learned it well enough, despite an accent that waxes and wanes, that her lawyers felt no need to supply her with a translator. She testified that at home, she and her husband, Edgar, speak to one another and their two children in both languages. And it was her bilingualism, as she acknowledged, which got her the job at the agency in 1991, the plan that she would handle mostly Spanish-speaking clients, though it ended up that she did not.
With the exception of Mary McConnville, CCAS's current head, those employees from the agency who testified, including Mrs. Martin's direct supervisor, praised her as a good worker who had done, at minimum, an appropriate job on the Heikamp case. Only Mrs. McConnville offered a guarded acknowledgement that some things might have been done better. And certainly, the jurors heard, Mrs. Martin has never been disciplined.
This is not the ringing endorsement one might imagine.
Sources close to the Catholic CAS say agency employees are rarely disciplined, the employer-union record virtually devoid of the sort of arbitration hearings that are routine in most organizations. Difficult employees are most often quietly urged to leave, or bought out, as apparently happened in a modest house-cleaning after Jordan's death. Few are outright fired.
Not so at the 17-year-old organization run by Bruce Hardy.
Westcoast workers, he said last week, have sometimes complained that the agency's child-first policy "jeopardizes work with the family. But it doesn't. We're honest. We tell them we're going to put the child first, and we don't tend to lose families.
"My workers have asked sometimes for more leeway, and my reply is, if I find you have made judgment calls that may have put a child at risk, I'll fire you."
When a child is hurt, the 50-year-old Mr. Hardy immediately suspends with pay the involved worker. Westcoast promptly launches an internal review, at the end of which workers have been fired, or suspended without pay and put on notice. And Mr. Hardy and his managers are equally scrutinized, every four years, by the New York-based Council on Accreditation by which Westcoast, with only 13 other Canadian agencies, is accredited.
The Catholic CAS is accredited by the Ontario Association of Children's Aid Societies (OACAS), a membership-driven body that Mr. Hardy said lends its reviews "at least the perception of a conflict of interest," if not an actual one.
As evidence of the close ties between the Ontario association and its members, in the immediate aftermath of Jordan's death, one of Dr. Maloney's e-mails indicated he "expected" OACAS to "communicate with all of the other societies so that they are not just left with information" about the case from the newspapers. Mrs. McConnville, who replaced Dr. Maloney, is the former OACAS boss.
His workers, like those at the Toronto Society, are unionized, but Mr. Hardy said this is no impediment to running a tight ship.
"The union has no investment in incompetence," he said impatiently. "The union has an investment in process." In fact, at the inquest, it was the Canadian Union of Public Employees, whose members include agency social workers and shelter workers both, which urged the jurors to make some of the toughest recommendations.
Mr. Hardy, who also teaches social work students at the University of Victoria and child and youth care students at an area community college, has been using newspaper coverage of the Heikamp inquest as a tool.
He is enraged by how agency employees have failed to acknowledge mistakes, and by the sort of limp entreaties best exemplified by what the agency's lawyer, Mr. French, earnestly told the jurors on the first day.
They would have to wrestle, he told them, with the fact that they would be hearing from witnesses, all "decent, honest, hardworking people" who had looked upon Jordan and yet done nothing to help him.
Why should the witnesses -- the Anduhyaun workers, Mrs. Martin, her supervisors -- be presumed going in, each and every one, to be good? Life experience surely teaches us otherwise. In every office, are there not those who are lazy? Irresponsible? Incompetent? Even malicious?
As Mr. Hardy said, "Why should we cut more slack for professionals than we ever would with a parent? When parents screw up, we take their kids. When we screw up, it's always an honest mistake and everyone has to be understanding."
In this real-world context, Jordan Heikamp's death was attributable to individual, not societal, errors. His was no accidental slippage through a worn safety net, but rather the product of a nation where many have lost their nerve. Woven into the factors at play here were many of the fuzzy-minded notions an increasing number of Canadians have come to treasure -- vacuous "support" over sensible advice; employment equity over hiring on merit; the non-decision for the hard one.
As no one wanted to judge Renee Heikamp, now, they demand not to be judged.
The worker who was supervising baby Sara when she was murdered remains at the agency as a children's services worker. Angie Martin is still an employee there, though now on long-term disability.
When the jurors return with a verdict, likely next week, and the inquest ends, the coroner's constable, Ernie Drummond, will remove from the small notice board in the foyer of the building a handful of black magnetic letters. Mr. Drummond is of the old school. He was born and raised in Yorkshire, where young gentlemen of a certain age were always addressed in a respectful manner, and so, from this board, Mr. Drummond's fierce, unheralded gesture, the letters he will take down read, for courtroom A, "Mstr. Jordan Heikamp."
Master Jordan: It even sounds as dear, as outdated, as the stern values that might have saved him *Christie Blatchford can be contacted atcblatchford@nationalpost.com
Charles Joseph Young 2-year-old
How much evidence do you need? You have a 2 1/2-year-old child dead
MESA CHILD DIES; FAMILY ON CPS LIST -BOY, 2, COVERED WITH BRUISES Two-year-old Charles Joseph Young died Sunday in Mesa, his body covered with so many bruises that emergency workers stopped counting at 30.
For more than a decade, sources said, the toddler's family has been under the scrutiny of Child Protective Services with as many as eight substantiated reports of neglect, sexual and physical abuse. An investigation was ongoing at the time of C.J.'s death.
No arrests have been made, said Mesa Police Detective Tim Gaffney, pending the results of an autopsy scheduled for today.
CPS officials could not comment on the case because of confidentiality laws. CPS records of dead children become public only if the death resulted from abuse or neglect. Because C.J.'s cause of death is not yet determined, his file remains sealed.
"Like any person, we are horrified and angered to hear that a child has died violently," said Liz Barker, spokeswoman for the Department of Economic Security, which oversees CPS.
She said that the agency reviews all cases involving one of their charges to determine if the agency was at fault and to prevent such a tragedy from happening again.
Safety of kids first
But Maricopa County Attorney Rick Romley said the case raises more questions about CPS, and repeated his plea that the safety of children, not keeping families together, be the first priority of agency caseworkers.
"Why are we still seeing this?" he asked. "We have to stop the kids from dying."
Romley wants CPS to become a stand-alone agency, separate from DES. In a March report, he suggested parents be held accountable for hurting or neglecting their children and, when appropriate, face prosecution.
Gov. Janet Napolitano said Tuesday that she has asked CPS officials for a report on the case.
On Sunday about 10:30 a.m., paramedics were called to the Mesa apartment at North Country Club Drive where the toddler lived with his mother, her boyfriend and three brothers.
C.J. was not breathing; his body cold and bruised across his eyes, ears, legs and stomach. His sheets were covered in vomit.
He was taken to Desert Samaritan Hospital where he was pronounced dead. All hospital staff could do was call a pastor to pray over the boy.
His mother, Danielle Young, 34, of Mesa, has five children, all of them boys. A 10-year-old was removed from her care in June and placed in a group home.
The most recent CPS report in July was about a 4-year-old who had bruising on his face. C.J. was not the subject of any of the CPS reports.
Father still at large
Tempe police are looking for the children's father, William Young, 33, in a 2002 molestation case that has been forwarded to the Maricopa County Attorney's Office. Tempe police Sgt. Dan Masters said officers believe he has fled the state.
Ursula Price, who knows the Young family, said C.J. was an adorable boy, chubby with brown hair and eyes. He laughed often and was very loving: "No matter who reached for him, he would go to them."
Both Young and her boyfriend, Todd Stockon, 32, are hearing impaired. None of the children has hearing problems.
They are now in the care of CPS. Young and Stockon declined a request for an interview.
CPS' tumultuous years
It has been a tumultuous two years for CPS, which has been accused of failing to protect children after the 2001 deaths of Liana Sandoval, a toddler who was beaten to death, and Anndreah Robertson, who died of exposure to crack cocaine at 10 days old.
In June, 7-year-old Isaac Loubriel was found half-starved in a filthy closet in his parents' Phoenix apartment. Like C.J., all three children's families had prior contact with CPS.
A commission appointed in January by the governor to study ways to reform CPS recently finished its work, issuing 25 recommendations. Public forums are being held statewide on the report.
All the talk about reform, prevention programs and caseworker training means nothing if children aren't safe, Romley said.
"This doesn't require training," he said. "This requires somebody who cares."
Carol Kamin, director of Children's Action Alliance and a member of the governor's CPS commission, agreed, saying, "It's time to stop and to figure out how to help kids today."
Her group has advocated for improved wages, training and manageable workloads for caseworkers, among other things.
She said, "You can't go and point fingers until you fix the system, a system we've been saying is in desperate need of reform."
NO ARREST MADE YET IN KILLING OF BOY, 2 -MESA POLICE CITE LACK OF EVIDENCE
Two-year-old Charles Young will be buried Saturday in a small blue casket, a teddy bear tucked in beside him.
It has been two weeks since his body was found covered with bruises in his mother's Mesa apartment, and no one has been named as the killer.
Mesa police continue their investigation after meeting with prosecutors at the Maricopa County Attorney's Office.
The boy's aunt, Melissa Worley, of Avondale, called prosecutors and police Thursday and was told there was not yet enough evidence for an arrest.
"How much evidence do you need? You have a 2 1/2-year-old child dead ...," Worley said.
On Aug. 17, at 10:30 a.m., paramedics were called to the apartment on North Country Club Drive where the toddler lived with his mother, her boyfriend and three brothers.
The toddler, who was called "C.J.," was not breathing, his body was cold and he had more than 60 bruises across his chest, face, stomach and legs.
Cases like this are among the hardest to prove.
The medical examiner has ruled the death a homicide.
In this instance, as in many child-abuse cases, there are no apparent witnesses and several possible suspects, said Mesa Police Lt. Doug Kline, director of the Center Against Family Violence in Mesa.
In C.J.'s case, a number of people had contact with the boy. He has older siblings.
It is hard to pinpoint exactly when the injury took place, although sometimes doctors can narrow it to within 12 to 24 hours. But a child could be cared for by many during that time, Kline said, including parents, grandparents, neighbors, teachers, day care providers.
At the Mesa center, police, doctors, social workers and prosecutors work together on child-abuse cases, piecing together what they know about the injuries, crime scene and what witnesses said. They do not handle homicides.
Sometimes, narrowing the suspects to just two is the best that police and prosecutors can do. Even then, the suspects either say nothing or blame each other, muddying cases and confusing juries.
"It's infuriating," said Ursula Price, a family friend who remembers holding C.J. in her arms when he was just a baby. And she said she called Child Protective Services when she thought he and his brothers were being mistreated.
"I did everything you are supposed to do," Price said, her voice breaking, "and it didn't work."
For more than a decade, the boys' mother, Danielle Young, 34, has been under the scrutiny of CPS with as many as 10 reports of neglect, sexual and physical abuse, dating to 1992. An investigation was ongoing when C.J. died.
Young and her boyfriend, Todd Stockon, 32, lived with the children in the one-bedroom apartment. She had five sons, including C.J. One son was living in a group home.
Sources said the home environment featured textbook conditions for abuse: stress, multiple children to care for, limited financial resources, a crowded living situation. Young and Stockon do not work. Both are hearing impaired. They declined to be interviewed.
The Young family was participating in CPS family-preservation services, which include such things as counseling, parenting classes and home visits, said Sen. Mark Anderson, R-Mesa, chairman of the Senate Family Services Committee.
By all reports, he said, the family was doing well.
"They (CPS officials) were caught off guard by the death," Anderson said.
CPS officials have not commented on the case because of confidentiality laws. CPS records of dead children become public only if the death resulted from abuse or neglect. The Arizona Republic has requested those records.
A fund has been set up for C.J.'s burial. Donations can be made at any Bank of America.
Funeral details
* WHAT: Visitation and burial for Charles Joseph "C.J." Young.
* WHERE: Greenwood Memory Lawn Mortuary and Cemetery, 719 N. 27th Ave., just north of Van Buren Street in Phoenix.
* TIME: Visitation from 5 to 8 p.m. today in the front chapel; memorial service at 11 a.m. Saturday at Serenity Chapel.
* DETAILS: (602) 272-5639.
Liana Sandoval 20-month-old
Remembering an Angel
It has been two years since an angel walked this earth. With dark hair, big brown eyes and smiling dimples, Liana Sandoval had not yet had her second birthday. Her short life had thrust her into a large alumni of sacrificed children, abandoned by Child Protective Services.
Liana was her sister, Isabella's best friend. They were inseparable and shared everything, until that last day in late Sept. 2001. Two months earlier, a man had moved into the house they shared with their mother, Virginia Venegal. His name was Juan Velazquez.
During visits with their father's family, severe bruises were noticed by several family members. The live-in boyfriend was the likely suspect. It was decided that in order to protect the girls, Child Protective Services would be called. One of the aunts made the phone call with the blessings of the girls' father, Anthony Sandoval. They thought Liana and Isabella would be safe and protected, but to their horror, the opposite occurred. A case worker from CPS began an investigation. She interviewed the mother and the boyfriend and they said the bruises came from the girls falling down. The preschool teacher was asked about abuse and said "the mother would never hurt the girls". The case worker filed a police report, but never followed up on it and neither did the police department.
Another aunt was interviewed and said Isabella had said, "Juan did it".
Later when Isabella was asked who hurt her, she said "Juan did it". A supervising case worker concluded that since the same words were used, that the child had been coached and the case was closed as "unsubstantiated".
One day earlier, Liana had been reported missing by her mother. Hundreds of people began searching for her, including her uncle, Gabe Cruz, who is a student at Glendale Community College and Editor of The Voice. "This tragedy had hit our family and GCC had stepped up to the cause by printing flyers about Liana's disappearance. Many volunteers passed out flyers and searched tirelessly for the little girl they didn't even know."
The next day, Virginia broke under pressure and confessed that Juan had killed Liana and together, they had disposed of her body. To make this scenario even more despicable, Isabella was in the back seat when they did this.
Several procedures by CPS were not done in this case, such as criminal background checks on people involved and medical examinations of the children. Juan Velazquez had a long history of criminal abuse, including crimes against pregnant women. Had either of those steps been taken this tragedy would not have happened.
In the weeks prior to her death, Liana was subjected to repeated beatings that finally led to her death. To disgrace this tiny soul even more, a heavy weight was tied to her little legs and her body was thrown into the dirty waters of a canal.
After Venegas and Velazquez were arrested, Anthony went to pick up his surviving daughter and hardly recognized her. She has black eyes and her head was swollen from repeated blows from an adult's fist. The torture these two little girls must have endured is unspeakable. How Isabella must feel when she told the truth and Liana still died.
Some may say CPS was negligent, even irresponsible, and contributed to not only this child's death, but several others recently. Some of the cases that have become public are Charlie Johnson, Anndreah Robertson, Henry and Odessa Greer.
Previously, the major philosophy for CPS was to keep the family intact and removing children would be an extreme last resort. The black and white guidelines might appear to be various shades of gray when it comes to child welfare. At what point should a child be removed from a dangerous situation? Shouldn't the priority be to protect the child at all costs? Had Liana been removed from her abusive surroundings, it is almost certain she would be preparing for four birthday instead of her family having to visit her grave. Ironically, the man accused of killing her is scheduled to go on trial Sept. 25th, the two year anniversary of Liana's death and the National Day of Remembrance for murder victims.
There is a movement working towards reformation and improvement of CPS. Maricopa County Attorney General, Rick Romley is leading the cause. For years, he has been trying to improve the child welfare system either through legislative or political methods. As recent as Sept. 9th, his team went before the legislature on behalf of all children. He has commissioned a report entitled "In Harm's Way" that explains conflicts in CPS policy and offers suggestions for improving the system. Liana is featured in this report.
Part of the problem, according to child welfare expert, Richard Gelles, is the persistent unwillingness to put children first. Children hold the same unalienable rights as adults; to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. Now is the time to heed their cries for help, to help them when they cannot help themselves.
Some of the changes proposed by the report are: The legislature should change the primary goal of CPS to child protection. Establish a protocol as a required standard so all cases would be handled in a competent way. Remove CPS from the Department of Economic Security and improve competency, training, and retention of CPS workers. Improve and strengthen mandatory reporting laws. Child abuse and neglect laws need to be clarified and strengthened. Define "imminent danger" more clearly. Mandate coordination of child abuse investigation protocols and timelines between CPS and Police Departments. Confidentiality laws must be reviewed and amended to open records and proceedings to other professionals and to the public.
You, too, can be a part of the child protection overhaul. Mr. Romley urges us to contact Govenor Napolitano and our legislators to express support for reform. We must act now if we are going to protect our most precious assets - our children. If we don't try, then who will?
Isabella is recovering from her injuries and still asks about her sister. She doesn't like being away from her father and stays close by his side. Also, she is receiving counseling for her ordeal and her life is getting somewhat back to normal.
Some of her family members have received grief counseling from the Counseling Services center at GCC. The services are free to any student and the staff is highly qualified. Grief is a very heavy burden to carry alone and sometime it helps to share the load. Walk-ins are welcomed or appointment are available.
Department Director, Susan High, and her staff are eager to help. The center is open Monday through Saturday.
It's hard to forget an angel. Although Liana hardly had time to live, her life has made a large contribution to the future of Child Protective Services and how suspected child abuse cases are handled. Hopefully, no child will have to endure pain and suffering like Liana. Change will come. It is her legacy.
Ann-Marie Shawley 2-year-old
"This child never had a chance"
Ann Marie Shawley was born into a life of violence. Her parents, young, poor and unmarried, fought. Her father, a high school dropout, often drank and hit people. Her stepmother, angry and volatile, was quick to spank.
She was a tiny child with enormous brown eyes who loved to play dress-up and wear her mother's high heels, even as violence and chaos swirled around her. She never would see her third birthday.
Today, an Oakland County Circuit Court judge will give Ann Marie's stepmother the mandatory sentence of life in prison for beating her to death during an hours-long torture session in her father's Novi trailer last Labor Day weekend.
The child died of massive head injuries Sept. 2. An autopsy showed she also had extensive bruising, welts and scratches, severe burns on her buttocks from a heating vent and numerous fresh cigarette burns. Police say her stepmother, Nikole Frederick, 24, duct-taped her mouth to muffle her screams.
While her death was shocking and tragic -- people in the courtroom wept when the verdict was read -- it was not surprising.
Those who study child abuse say Ann Marie was in danger the day she was born, vulnerable because she had a family where, at least in her father's home, violence was as common as conversation, where people solved problems with their fists, where adults with few parenting skills routinely spanked small children in anger.
"This child never had a chance," said Oakland County Assistant Prosecutor Gregory Townsend. Relationship rooted in violence
John Shawley and Raeanna Craig had been sweethearts at Redford Union High School, but even then the relationship was violent. Soon, Craig was pregnant with their first daughter, Linda, now 4.
Now Raeanna Schmidt, the 25-year-old declined to comment for this report, but friends and family say they saw Shawley, 24, abuse her. Schmidt's sister said the abuse would happen when Shawley had been drinking or if her sister stood up to him.
"I seen it," Kristin Gregg said.
Schmidt's parents also knew it went on. The police, they said, constantly were called to the couple's Redford Township home.
"All I know is that John has a temper, and he believes when he speaks, they should jump," said Schmidt's mother, Debbie Craig. "She didn't involve us in a lot of it. . . . I just know that John believes men are superior."
Soon Schmidt was pregnant a second time. Ann Marie was born June 30, 2001, but by then, the relationship between her parents was over.
Shawley soon moved in with Nikole Frederick, a single mother who had dropped out of Redford Union in the 10th grade. She and Schmidt had been friends.
Frederick and Shawley married in 2002, but soon that relationship also turned violent.
In December 2002, Schmidt, who was then living with her future husband, Scott Schmidt, in the small town of Emmett in the Thumb, filed a personal protection order against Shawley. She told police she had gone to Shawley's Redford Township home at Frederick's request because Shawley had been beating Frederick.
In the report, Schmidt said she was afraid for her life and the lives of her children. She said Shawley had threatened to kill her and had grabbed her throat. Frederick and the children were witnesses, she said.
Domestic violence between parents is often a precursor to child abuse, experts say. Between 30 and 60 percent of mothers who are battered ultimately will batter their children, according to U.S. Department of Justice figures.
And the fact that Ann Marie was left in her stepmother's care for weekends at a time also made her vulnerable. Stepparents, according to one nationally recognized study, are much more likely to brutalize children, especially those younger than 5, than biological parents.
That, and Frederick's young age, lack of education and parenting skills, and the fact that she was beaten as a child, according to a statement she gave police, spelled disaster for Ann Marie.
"All of those are risks," said Murray Straus, codirector of the Family Research Laboratory at the University of New Hampshire and a nationally known expert on child abuse. "And when you have a configuration like this, with all of those risks coming into play, there is a much greater probability that the child will be abused."
They are risks, said Debbie Craig, but no excuse for what Frederick did to Ann Marie. That, she said, was a simple result of immaturity and selfishness.
"Sometimes you've got to take responsibility for yourself and quit blaming society, my schooling, my parents, my this, my that. You grow up and accept life," she said.
Novi Police Detective Victor Lauria agreed, adding that parents are supposed to protect their kids.
"This has nothing to do with being poor or rich. It's the way you conduct yourself," he said. "Raeanna couldn't see what was going on in Novi from Emmett. But John Shawley, if he doesn't know what happened, he damn well should have." Spanking gets out of control
Other clues that Ann Marie was at grave risk emerged during Frederick's two-week trial. Frederick, in her statements to police shortly before her arrest, described routinely spanking her 1-year-old son, Jonathon, and Ann Marie.
And Frederick, with few resources, living in an impoverished home and a violent marriage, was clearly not up to the demands of raising small children, particularly two that were not her own.
In the 48 hours leading up to the beating that claimed Ann Marie's life, Frederick was caring for her son, 5-year-old daughter and her stepdaughters, Ann Marie and Linda.
There was not enough money in the house for cigarettes that Sunday, and Frederick was growing more edgy as the day wore on. She had not slept the night before because Jonathon had kept her up. And when she asked Shawley what had happened to the household money, he told her to mind her own business.
Lauria, who interviewed Frederick after the beating, said the abuse also happened because of a breakdown in the Shawley-Frederick relationship.
"She was saddled with the responsibility of not only taking care of her child, but also watching her husband's two children. She got little or no help from him," he said. "She told us in interviews he doesn't get up with them in the middle of the night and then he complains about it if she asked him to. She harbored a lot of resentment for Ann Marie."
Ann Marie, a feisty toddler, took the brunt of it. Frederick would later tell police that Ann Marie was stubborn, whiny and "a hard baby." That Sunday, the spanking started early and went on all day, escalating in the middle of the night.
"The only time we swatted her butt is to keep getting her off the vent" -- a heating vent on the floor -- "and it was probably 15, 20 times during the day we kept swatting her butt, trying to get her to stay off of it," Frederick told police.
Frederick's 5-year-old daughter by another man witnessed the beatings and later told police, "Mom wouldn't stop hitting Annie, and Annie kept crying and crying, and Mom wouldn't stop."
Experts say spanking is the first dangerous step toward relinquishing self-control in dealing with a child. At least two-thirds of child abuse cases start with spanking, studies show, and children between ages 2 and 5 are most likely to be spanked.
Sometime after midnight, Ann Marie woke up and vomited on the living room rug. And then, the spanking turned to outright beating. Frederick, in her interviews with police, eventually admitted shoving the 25-pound child into the toilet, but insisted it was an accident.
And Frederick told police that as she tried to wash off the toddler in the shower, the girl was thrashing about and hit her head repeatedly on the tub and shower wall.
Ann Marie's cigarette burns, Frederick said, likely were inflicted by little Jonathon.
But as the police interrogation lengthened, Frederick began to confess more, adding that she shook the girl when she realized she was unconscious.
"I killed that little girl," she said. "I killed that little girl, didn't I . . . oh, my God; oh, my God. But I didn't do it on purpose. I was just trying to wake her up. I did shake her. Oh, my God."
Shawley insisted he slept through the beating. He was not charged.
In a recent interview at his home, Shawley said he does not believe that Frederick killed his daughter. He called Frederick a good mother and blamed Schmidt, insisting she caused Ann Marie's head injuries before the child visited him in Novi, but the injuries didn't show up for two days.
Police, prosecutors and medical experts all say Shawley's version is preposterous.
Shawley said he is struggling with the loss of his wife, who will live out her life in prison, and daughter. "In a matter of a day, my daughter passes away and my wife's in prison and my other two kids are taken away," he said. "But a lot of things don't add up."
Prosecutors are seeking to sever Shawley's parental rights to his son and daughter.
"Some days I feel like I would trade places with her," Shawley said of Frederick. "Some days, I feel like I would lose it and become violent."
A few weeks after that last judge gave Joseph back to Amanda and wished her good luck, she killed the boy.
Joseph R.Wallace (July 29, 1989- April 18, 1993) was a three year old boy who was murdered by his mother on April 18, 1993 in their Chicago, Illinois apartment. Joseph's death gained statewide and then national speculation because he was known to the state's child welfare system.
Joseph's mother, Amanda was herself a survivor of child abuse. She suffered from epilepsy and was known to have been mentally unstable as well, which led her to frequently harm herself and her children.
Joseph was born while she was a resident of Chicago's Elgin Mental Health Center. Between 1989 and 1992, Joseph was removed three times from his mother's home to foster care, only to be returned to his mother's care because it was believed that it would be in his best interest to be raised with a natural parent. However, there was evidence that Wallace was being physically and emotionally abused each time he returned; his foster parents noticed bald spots on his head from his mother physically pulling out his hair.
In the early morning hours of April 18-19 1993, Joseph was ultimately killed by his mother. While the family was visiting relatives, she had claimed that her son was a troublemaker and had threatened to murder him. He died after his mother hung him from the metal crank-arm of their apartment door. Joseph's death called for a long investigation into the circumstances. Amanda Wallace was put on trial and displayed out-of-control behavior throughout the process. She was ultimately sentenced to life in prison, but committed suicide in 1997. Amanda had given birth to a second child, Joshua J.Wallace, who now resides with a new loving family.
Amanda Wallace was a violent, emotionally unstable woman, and everyone around her knew it. Twice she had set her home on fire. She attempted suicide. She swallowed glass. She broke the arm of a nurse.
She also gave birth to two children. Three times, her older son, Joseph, was taken from her for his own protection. Each time, a juvenile court judge gave him back to her, ruling that it was best for a little boy to be with his mother. A few weeks after that last judge gave Joseph back to Amanda and wished her good luck, she killed the boy.
Christening Mikie Garcia 12-year-old
12 Year Old Dies in Foster Care Multiple Meds
Autopsy rules Star Ranch youth suffocated Travis County Medicial Examiner Dr. Roberto Bayardo has ruled that a 12-year-old Star Ranch resident died Sunday night from suffocation while being physically restrained by a staff member.
Christening Mikie Garcia, who was placed at the residential treatment center in August, lost consciousness and later died at Sid Peterson Memorial Hospital in Kerrville. Services for Mikie Garcia are scheduled for 9:30 a.m. today at Kerrville Funeral Home, followed by burial at Glen Rest Cemetery.
Kerr County Sheriff Rusty Hierholzer said an investigation is ongoing into Garcias death, which occurred when an experienced staff member physically restrained the boy, who was violently misbehaving and banging his head off a concrete sidewalk.
Executive Director Rand Southard has said he is confident the staffer followed state-approved guidelines for the restraint as a last course of action.
The autopsy indicated a bruise on Garcias arm could have been caused by the restraint, and superficial marks on the boys head were consistent with banging his head on the sidewalk. When complete, the investigation will be presented to a Kerr County grand jury, Hierholzer said.
Court records show Garcia and two of his siblings became wards of the state in August 2004, when their parents Doris and Innocencia Chris Garcia relinquished parental rights. The three children and an older brother were taken into state care in January 2000 because the family was in crisis.
According to records filed in court this past September, Mikie Garcias 13-year-old brother lives in a foster home in a neighboring county and his 11-year-old sister lives in another Hill Country facility. All three children were recipients of multiple medications prescribed to combat behavioral and/or psychological issues.
Mrs. Garcia had not been living in the home for approximately three months. The home had no electricity or water. The children were not attending school. ... The younger children were left unsupervised for long periods of time, according to the records.
In September, a report by Court Appointed Special Advocates said Mikie Garcia, was moved to a residential treatment center in August after his foster family gave a 30-day notice to have him removed from the home. ... Christening has had several restraints since being admitted to Star Ranch. His behavior continues to be an issue. ... Christening continues to struggle with coping with his frustration and anger.
Garcias death is devastating to Star Ranchs staff, Southard said Wednesday. However, it wont stop the program from continuing to try to fulfill its mission, he said.
Colleen (his wife and Star Ranch co-founder) and I, and everyone out here, has to ask themselves are you willing to put this level of feeling and emotion in your job? Southard said. Are you willing risk the relationship with another child? The answer for me right now is Yes.
We want to provide for the children that needs us, he said. Were constantly striving to make it better.
Southard said almost 250 boys requiring extensive help have passed through Star Ranchs residential treatment program in 16 years, and Garcias death is the first the facility has experienced. About 32 children are placed there at any given time, and most tend to stay for extended periods.
Additional therapists have been called in following Garcias death to help staff and other residents through the process, Southard said.
Texas Department of Family and Protective Services spokesman Patrick Crimmins said this week there are no plans to remove children from Star Ranch. The department is conducting its own investigation into the incident, he said.
By Gerard MacCrossan The Daily Times
Published December 09, 2005
Jonathan Campbell 1-year-old
Chicago, IL -- Jonathan Campbell was tortured to death by his father, Anthony Habener on his first birthday, Jan. 24, 1986.That was the same day the Illinois Department of Children and Family Services decided the family no longer needed help.
An autopsy showed Jonathan had suffered 26 wounds, many of them cigarette burns and his genitalia had been mutilated. His ears had also been severed from his head.
Habener said Jonathan had slipped from his hands and that his ears had become severed then.
Habener was convicted of murder and sentenced to 65 years in prison.
Franklin County Children Services was no stranger to the home of Jaydon Hoberg, a 17-month-old boy who died Tuesday night under suspicious circumstances.
Investigators with FCCS found Jaydon had been seriously injured just two months ago. But he was never taken out of the home.
Columbus Police say Jaydon Hoberg died Tuesday night after he was sexually assaulted. A coroner's report expected Thursday could lead to murder charges for John White, the boyfriend of Jaydon's mother.
"I want him to get the death penalty for what he done," the boy's mother, Billie Hilleary, told 10TV.
Neither she nor her boyfriend had ever been in legal trouble. But Franklin County Children Services confirmed to 10TV that case workers investigated previous injuries to the little boy in May 2006.
In a statement, the agency stated: "The investigation was related to a broken leg that was deemed to be an accidental injury."
Children Services went on to say that a caseworker "...asked about the possibility of sexual abuse, and was told there were no suspicions of that nature."
Tuesday night, after Jaydon died at Children's Hospital, John White was taken into custody and later charged with rape. According to a search warrant, White told medics he had just been napping with the little boy. White said when he woke up, he found Jaydon unconscious with his head stuck or wedged underneath a pillow.
An open 911 line caught part of the conversation with a paramedic.
"How long ago did this happen, sir?" the paramedic asked.
"I don't know how long," White responded. "He was under there on his face. Then I woke up. It was probably about a minute and a half, and I was trying to work on him. Then I went and got his mom."
The baby's mother recalled what White then told her.
"He said, 'he's not breathing. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.' And he just kept telling me he's sorry."
Hilleary then looked at the boy and realized how serious the situation was.
"He was just laying there. He was limp. His eyes were rolled back in his head."
According to a search warrant police obtained, doctors at Children's Hospital discovered what they believed to be evidence of sexual assault. Detectives later collected physical evidence from John White by taking genital and oral swabs from him, as well as fingernail scrapings.
Children Services also said at the conclusion of its May investigation, a letter was sent to Jaydon's mother. It informed her that the case was being closed and help would be available if she ever needed it in the future.
Jaydon was the son of Billie Rae Hilleary and Daniel Hoberg of Newark, Ohio.
He spent every other weekend with his dad and grandparents. Last May, Jaydon's leg was broken in 2 places, from Mr. White "falling down the stairs" while holding him. The incident was investigated and.dismissed.
A few months ago, Daniel noticed changes in his son that made him uncomfortable; he called Child Protection Services several times.and was told that he had to have "proof" of his suspicions. Yep. That's what they usually say. Sure wouldn't want to interfere in a child's life based on a suspicion by a dad, would we?
Meanwhile,inmates of the jail where John White is being held gave him an ass kickin' last week, so now poor ole' John is in protective custody.
I am not advocating violence towards John, but can anyone tell me why he should be protected??? If you don't want your fanny kicked, don't hurt/rape/murder a child. What's so hard about that concept?
I think a system that protects this kind of filth while not protecting an innocent baby stinks to high hell. I think we need to put these things in the same cages as other criminals and stop worrying about their well being. They had choices in their decisions. These children that are raped and murdered do not.
While lurking on quite a few forums this past year, I have learned that these things really don't fear incarceration all that much,because they know they will be segregated.
I think they should feel the same fear their victim's did.
Christopher Thomas 3-year-old
Officials say the 3-year-old had been punched, whipped.
A 3-year-old boy who had been repeatedly punched, whipped with a belt and thrown against walls during nine days with his godparents died Monday afternoon, a day after an emergency crew was summoned to revive his limp body, authorities said.
In the second child homicide case in a week, Renecha Gulley, 22, and Earl Christopher, 23, both of Rancho Cordova, were charged Monday with child homicide after getting word of the little boy's death at 1:45 p.m. Monday at UC Davis Medical Center. They had been held Sunday on charges of child endangerment.
Officials say the final blow for Christopher Thomas came early Sunday morning, when the nude little boy awakened Gulley and asked her for something to drink. Gulley told investigators that when the toddler wouldn't tell her why he had no clothing on, she picked him up and shook him, slamming his head into a door jamb.
When medics arrived at the apartment about 8:45 a.m. Sunday - more than three hours later - they were told by Earl Christopher that the little boy had fallen from a bed and hit his head before slumping into unconsciousness. But emergency crews grew suspicious as soon as they looked beneath the child's clothing.
"At different times in the last nine days, they've each had their share of punching him," said Detective Sgt. Connie Merkins, who oversees the Sacramento County sheriff's child abuse unit. "He's got bruises on his face, upper torso - front and back - lower extremities and buttocks."
Doctors told detectives that the boy had evidence of new and old brain swelling consistent with abuse.
Child-abuse detectives said the couple outlined their discipline in separate interviews: First make the boy stand in the corner, then a swat with a wooden spoon on the hand or a spanking with a belt or hand.
Once it was for pulling a gallon of milk from the refrigerator and spilling it. Another time it was for "not minding," other times for wetting his diaper, Merkins said.
On Friday Christopher punched the little boy in the abdomen, sending him backward into a wall, detectives said.
The boy's brother, who turns 6 today, was with little Christopher throughout the visit and described seeing him "spanked and whipped," detectives said. He said he was not physically harmed himself. A 10-year-old nephew of Earl Christopher, who was sleeping in the apartment when the 3-year-old was injured, also said he was not physically abused or disciplined, Merkins said.
Officials on Sunday placed the 5-year-old in protective custody.
The dead boy's mother, Elizabeth Crilly, 22, of south Sacramento, said Monday that her son was "an angel" and that she'd never forget his blue eyes. She told authorities she had dropped her sons off with Gulley and Christopher on July 9 for a visit and had not seen them since.
Merkins said that Crilly and Gulley apparently became friends when they worked together some years ago. The boy's biological father had not been a part of his life, Crilly said.
The boys routinely spent time with the couple, whom they called their godparents, according to officials and to Hassan M. Ray, who manages the Mar-Rita Manor apartment complex on Mather Field Road where the couple have lived since February 2002.
Ray said he first saw the little boy with Gulley about a year ago and later had seen them playing on weekends and holidays. She seemed affectionate toward him, Ray said.
Merkins said the mother is not criminally liable, but she has "some unanswered questions to resolve" with detectives.
Detectives on Monday were looking into Crilly's history with social services, which included at least three referrals to Sacramento County Child Protective Services and ongoing work with the Birth & Beyond Program.
That program matches home visitors with mothers of young children who are seeking one-on-one advice on child rearing as well as help linking up with job skills, parenting classes, mothers' support groups and other self-help programs.
Last week, a Birth & Beyond home visitor alerted officials that something was amiss in the home of a woman who since has been charged with two counts of murder in the deaths of her infant twin girls. Program Manager Pat Mangan said clients voluntarily participate in the program, which seeks to match new mothers with in-home mentors to teach child rearing and infant care as well as offering mothers' support groups and job skills training.
Merkins said social services officials had no basis for concern about Gulley and Christoper, who have no children of their own.
Detectives on Monday described how the events unfolded over the weekend:
Early Sunday, after shaking the 3-year-old, Gulley apparently placed his listless body on a couch and got ready for work. Her boyfriend left the boy there - along with the sleeping 5-and 10-year-old boys - to drive Gulley to work at a service station on Sunrise Boulevard at 6 a.m.
After returning home, he apparently discovered that the boy was unresponsive, and - with increasing levels of panic - called Gulley repeatedly at work, according to interviews the couple gave detectives. When she told him that she was going to lose her job if he didn't quit calling, he loaded the unconscious boy into his car and drove to the minimart, Merkins said.
Gulley's boss, seeing the boy's body, told her she could leave and the couple then drove to the Veterans Hospital at Mather Field but a clerk told them they had no emergency services, Merkins said.
At that point, the pair returned to their apartment and called 911.
"These folks had him for the last nine days," Merkins said. "And those injuries have occurred within that time period. I'm looking at who had care and custody of that child in that nine-day window."
By Mareva Brown and Christina Jewett -- Bee Staff Writers
Published 2:15 am PDT Tuesday, July 20, 2004
The Bee's Mareva Brown can be reached at (916) 321-1088 or mbrown@sacbee.com
Mariah Alvarez 2-year-old
CPS Investigating Toddler's Death-previously been in foster care!
Child Protective Services officials told Action 4 News Tuesday night that they are investigating the case of a Valley couple accused of beating their 2-year-old daughter to death that had previously been in foster care.
Shortly before 7 p.m. Saturday, police and paramedics raced to an apartment complex, located in the 100 block of W. Lee St. in Harlingen.
When they arrived at apartment No. 8, they found Mariah Alvarez lifeless and rushed her to a hospital, where she later died.
Justice of the Peace, Sallie Gonzalez, pronounced little Mariah dead and said that there were definitely signs she had been severely beaten.
"She had bruises throughout 90 percent of her body," Gonzalez said. "And by the weight of the child you could tell that child was not being nourished correctly."
The next day police arrested Mariah's parents.
Her mother, Melissa Lucio, was charged with capital murder and her father, Robert Alvarez, was charged with injury to a child.
Neighbors who didn't want to go on camera told Action 4 News that the family had just moved into the apartment complex about a week ago. But never did they hear the child cry for help.
But now many people said that they feel the little girl's cries are being heard loud and clear in the form of questions.
Particularly, how CPS could have released the girl and her six brothers and sisters back to their parents just three months ago.
"That question has arisen and we're hoping that CPS can give us some thorough answers," Gonzalez said.
CPS officials said that was true all seven of the couple's children were in foster care for about two years up until two days before Thanksgiving.
Back in September 2004, the seven children had been taken away from their parents because of neglectful supervision and physical neglect, which means the children weren't being properly fed and cared for, CPS said.
CPS also said that as recently as a week ago someone from their department had visited with the family and that everything had checked out okay.
CPS officials said that when they gave the children back in November, the parents had passed all of their tests, including parenting classes, therapy classes and drug testing.
While the couple remains behind bars, their children are in foster care.
reported by Romeo Cantu
Andrew Burd 4-year-old
October 3, 2006
Shocking details on abuse suffered by 4-year-old before death
CORPUS CHRISTI - A shocking confession in the investigation into the death of 4-year-old Andrew Burd. According to court documents, the woman who was going to adopt the boy confessed to beating the boy just hours before his death.
The preschooler died Oct. 3, after police said his mother, Hannah Overton, gave the child water with chili powder. Doctors ruled the death as sodium poisoning. Those details contained in an affidavit filed by Child Protective Services.
According to the document, at least one of those parents is accused of killing the boy. Details of the last hours of Andrew's life have angered, appalled and shocked people for the last few weeks, and now new details are surfacing.
Court documents say Andrew was hungry and wanted to go to McDonald's. Hannah Overton did not take him there. She took him home.
"At the home she fed him chili, which he ate and then he asked for more, according to Mrs. Overton," it states in court documents. "She then took chili powder and poured it in a glass of water to give to him. Andrew drank the chili water, dropped to the ground and then threw up and complained of being cold."
Hannah Overton said she put Andrew in the bath to warm him up, but it did not work. While talking to Corpus Christi police, Hannah Overton changed her story.
"Mrs. Overton stated she fixed two sippy cups with the chili with the water and forced Andrew to drink it. The first cup to teach him a lesson, and the second as a form of punishment. At that time, Andrew fell over, hit his head and then threw up. She then picked him up and 'beat the s*** out of him,' " the affidavit states.
The report said Hannah came to the realization about what she'd done. She called her husband Larry Overton, who took the child to a health clinic, but Andrew died at Driscoll Children's Hospital. Before his death, doctors noticed even more problems.
"Andrew had what appeared to be a cigarette burn mark on his right arm, along with some bruising to the arm and leg area," doctor reports state. "Medical staff also advised that Andrew had what appeared to be scratches along the stomach and neck area."
And the origin of the injuries may never surface. Meanwhile, Hannah Overton is facing capital murder charges and is free on bond. Her husband, Larry Overton, remains behind bars, facing charges of injury to a child.
A hearing is scheduled for Friday to determine what happens to the Overton's other four children, who are currently staying with family members. According to court documents, the Overton children told investigators little Andrew underwent stricter punishment in the home.
Isaac, 7, also told police that his brother, Andrew, is the one who got in more trouble and was never doing antyhing right. Isaac said Andrew had to stay in his room, and his mother watched him through the 'security camera' which was pointed at his bed.
Another of the Overton's children noticied problems as well. Isabel, 5, told investigators, "He gets no food, has to stay in bed, and does not get to go on trips. Isabel indicated on one occasion Andrew had to stay in bed for two nights and he could not even get up to go to the bathroom, and he had to 'poop' in the bed."
She too mentioned that the Overtons made sure Andrew stayed in bed by watching him on the camera.
As for the punishments for the Overton children, they too would get pepper or soap in their mouths for lying. The kids all seem to know there are consequences for lying or getting in trouble.
but charged in his death was Donna M. Caston, 36, whose care Curt had been left in. Caston was charged with criminal homicide, first-and second-degree murder, involuntary manslaughter, aggravated assault, recklessly endangering another person, endangering the welfare of a child and intimidating a witness.
During Caston's preliminary hearing, her 14-year-old daughter refused to testify. She had previously testified at a coroner's inquest that she had seen Curt lying very still under a blanket after being beaten by her mother.
She also testified that the next day, she, along with Caston, her 15-year-old brother and Herman Granger, 37, Caston's boyfriend, took a drive the next day, stopping in a alley, where she saw Granger remove a bag from the trunk of the car and place it into a trash can. Her brother and Granger were killed a short time later in a traffic accident.
Because of Caston's daughter refusing to testify and a psychiatrist finding her incompetent, all charges against Caston have been dropped due to insufficient evidence.
The psychiatrist indicated that she would not understand the nature and circumstances of the proceedings as to whether or not she would have to testify against her mother.
Describing her relationship with her mother, he said, that she testified that even though her mother may have been abusive to her in the past, she may have been the only person she had developed some loyalties to. She would like to see her mother punished, but she does not want to be part of the process that would hand down the punishment.
If more evidence is found and/or Caston's daughter changes her mind about testifying then Caston can be recharged with Curt's murder.
Seaser Tiller 9-month-old
May 31,2007
9-month-old Seaser Tiller had drowned in a bathtub when his mother left him to check her e-mail. Tiller's family had been on active DHS oversight, and when word came down that the supervisor involved with the case was retiring, and disciplinary action was being initiated against the administrator and director, it sent a tremor of worry through the office.
Thursday's drowning of a 9-month-old baby, Seaser Tiller, whose mother left him in a bathtub so that she could check her e-mail. The family was under the active oversight of DHS.
The latest deaths came in the same week that a DHS review panel released a report saying the agency had failed in its basic mission to protect "some of Philadelphia's most vulnerable children."
Authorities yesterday disclosed the most information about the death of Seaser Tiller.
They said the baby boy drowned in an apartment near Roosevelt Boulevard and Rhawn Street in the Northeast after being left in the tub with two brothers, ages 2 and 3.
An uncle of the dead child's mother said yesterday that his 26-year-old niece, whom he identified as September Tiller, had left the three children for five or six minutes to respond to a newly arrived e-mail.
When the mother returned, the two older children had climbed out of the bathtub, and the baby was underwater. The mother called 911 at 11:40 a.m. The baby was later pronounced dead at Frankford Hospital-Torresdale Campus.
Police said the mother had not been charged with any crime. Capt. John Darby, commander of the police Special Victims Unit, said there were no indications that Tiller had been drinking or using drugs at the time of the death.
Police and other officials said yesterday that the children in the family had been under DHS care because of allegations of abuse over the years.
One official said a DHS investigation in 2006 determined that a child in the household had been abused. Key details of that case - such as which child had been hurt and the identity of the alleged abuser - could not be learned.
Darby said that officials investigated in 2002 after DHS received a complaint that a child in the family received a bump on the head in an abuse incident. He said his investigators could not resolve whether the bump came from abuse or an accident. The case is listed as inactive, Darby said.
Darby could not immediately specify which child in the family had been injured or say who might have been the alleged abuser.
The review panel, appointed after Inquirer articles spotlighted the deaths of children whose families were known to DHS, urged sweeping changes.
The panel scrutinized the deaths of 52 children whose families were known to DHS between 2001 and 2006 - and found that 27 had died of abuse or suspiciously.
A dozen more died in unsafe sleeping arrangements, and four in accidents, the panel said.
As is true nationally, the city's victims were disproportionately infants.
"The children who are most vulnerable due to their age are most likely to be alleged victims of fatal child maltreatment," the report said.
Yesterday, DHS workers were interviewing Tiller. The uncle, Larry Gilliam, 59, said his niece would not talk to reporters.
Gilliam said Seaser Tiller was the youngest among five sons of September Tiller. The oldest is 8, he said. "She loved her kids. It's just a tragedy," Gilliam said. "She was a good mother."
Dylan Lockerbie 5-month-old
Council failed battered infant. - July 31, 2002
Social services were involved with the family after Dylan's birth
Social services have admitted to failings in their care of a baby who was killed by his father in south west Scotland. Dumfries and Galloway Council said a mistake was made in not placing Dylan Lockerbie on the child protection register.
Ian Metcalfe was found guilty on Tuesday of the culpable homicide of Dylan, who died when he was five months old in March 1996.
Metcalfe, 34, was also convicted of assaulting and killing another son, Kyle, aged 10 weeks, in 1988.
Social services were involved with the family after Dylan's birth but did not consider him specifically "at risk", it has emerged.
Since then, a review of the case judged that a mistake was caused by weaknesses in service arrangements and an error of judgement.
However, the review did not conclude that Dylan's death would necessarily have been avoidable.
Disciplinary action
The council said "appropriate action" had been taken under its disciplinary policy but refused to reveal further details.
Procedures now were different to those in 1996, it added.
At a news conference on Wednesday, Keith Makin, chairman of the child protection committee, said: "I am confident that the way we deal with child protection and the links between agencies are much stronger and more secure now."
But he added: "No-one can promise to keep children safe in the face of sustained evil."
In May 2000, after the murder of three-year-old Kennedy McFarlane in Dumfries and Galloway, the council commissioned Dr Helen Hammond to come up with an action plan for health and social services.
The Hammond Report, published in February 2001, also reviewed the procedures put in place after the death of Dylan Lockerbie and concluded they had not been carried out properly.
The deaths of Kyle and Dylan were originally put down as sudden infant death syndrome (SIDS) or a cot death.
Expert evidence
But Metcalfe's trial heard the opinions of a number of clinicians who said they thought the babies had been physically abused.
Experts called in to examine the medical evidence found that both victims had suffered multiple rib fractures before their deaths and had been subjected to previous suffocating attacks.
Malcolm Wright, chief executive of Dumfries and Galloway Health Board, said "the climate of opinion" in the late 1980s had encouraged clinicians "to be supportive and non-judgmental about cot deaths". Significant research later alerted medical staff to be "more aware of other diagnoses".
Metcalfe, of Locharbriggs, Dumfries, was found guilty at the High Court in Edinburgh where he had denied murdering and attempting to murder the two infants.
He was further found guilty of assaulting, asphyxiating and endangering the life of a third child, who cannot be named for legal reasons.
Sentence was deferred until 20 August for psychiatric reports.
Kyle's mother and Metcalfe's ex-wife, Michelle Johnstone, said the verdict would now allow her to come to terms with the circumstances of her son's death.
But Dylan's mother Maureen Lockerbie, who is Metcalfe's fiancée, protested that he was innocent and pledged to stand by him.
Adriana Acles 6 -month-old
No cause to remove !?
Adriana Acles's mother, Adrianne Acles, 22, was booked on suspicion of child abuse and murder. A child protective services worker had previously visited the home and found no cause to remove the baby.
Melissa Strickson 13-year-old
Father claims serious failures on the part of the local police and social services
Blackburn Social Services
November 8, 2006 Melissa's father in court battle
A FATHER has gone to the High Court to gain the right to sue local authorities after his daughter died of a drugs overdose.
Melissa Strickson, 13, died in October 2001 after running away from home with three other girls and taking refuge at the home of self-confessed white witch Sally Corkhill, of Sudell Road, Darwen.
Her father, Victor Strickson, who has started legal action against the police and Blackburn with Darwen Council, claims the authorities failed to give them help in controlling Melissa, who ran away from home 27 times.
Victor and his wife Sue, of of Tockholes Road, Darwen, say their requests for Melissa to be placed in a children's home were denied.
Melissa had a massive overdose of coproximol tablets and was pronounced dead on arrival at Blackburn Royal Infirmary.
Corkhill, 41, was sentenced to two years in jail after pleading guilty to four abduction charges and two of administering a controlled drug.
She was cleared of manslaughter.
Her lover, Lee Harrison, 31, also of Sudell Road, received nine months on four charges of child abduction.
Mr Strickson issued proceedings in Blackburn County Court in October 2002 alleging that his daughter's death had been caused by serious failures on the part of the local police and social services.
But in March last year his claim for damages was struck out by District Judge Law, sitting at Preston County Court.
A month later, Judge Appleton refused Mr Strickson permission to appeal on the ground that his action had no prospect of success.
The judge also dismissed Mr Strickson's renewed application to appeal in July last year on the grounds that his case was not arguable.
Yesterday Stephen Knafler, appearing for the father, argued in the High Court that the county court decisions were "perverse", and that Mr Strickson was the victim of a miscarriage of justice.
Mr Strickson is seeking judicial review against Preston County Court.