Sunday, February 13, 2000
How to beat the system
BY PETER BRONSON
The Cincinnati Enquirer
James is a tough case. But is he a sad case, or just a bad case?
“He needs somebody to help him and look after him and the court can't do it,” said Hamilton County Municipal Court Judge Jack Rosen. “Being in jail isn't going to do it.”
Judge Rosen recently sentenced James, 19, for criminal trespassing, criminal damage and violations of probation, a protection order and an anti-stalking order.
While locked up, James violated a “no contact” order again by calling his victim 25 times in one day from jail.
“He has this fixation on a girl and he has a brain injury,” the judge said.
He said this case was especially difficult, but typical of about 15 to 20 cases he hears each month involving crimes by people who are mentally disabled or mentally ill.
Hamilton County has a new mental health docket in municipal court, to involve caseworkers and doctors for evaluations and advice.
But James bypassed all that.
Mental health care is provided to inmates in Hamilton County jails.
But he bypassed that, too.
He's living at his parents' house, sentenced to home incarceration until Jan. 26, 2001. And that has the mother of his stalking victim very worried.
“We have known James since he was 7 or 8, before his (brain injury). We donated money for his hospital care,” she said. “He knows exactly what he is doing ... he definitely knows right from wrong.”
The story can be told without using the full name of James or his victims. These people have suffered enough.
In the past year, the mother of James' stalking victim has been in court at least five times to deal with assaults on her daughter, vandalism, stalking, constant phone calls. She says he broke into her daughter's bedroom one night, and has urinated into her home through a window. She describes broken glass, calls to 911, a face peering in her windows at night and constant fear, ever since her daughter decided to stop seeing him as a friend.
“He is possessed with her. Obsessed. He calls 50 times a day. And the thing of it all is, they sent him home. I have been in court almost a year now. Where are my rights? He can do anything and he just walks. As a teen he did so many things, and there were no consequences. He thinks he can get way with anything.”
Probation officer Brian Urban had not interviewed James — on the day I called his caseload was 200. But his files show “a ton of contact with juvenile courts,” he said. His adult record shows drug problems and mentions brain damage. “But he has not been diagnosed with any problem as an adult,” although “he has been dangerous.”
The stalking victim “lives in constant fear that he's going to come and do something to her,” her mother said. “I want something done before it's too late. Do I need to hire a lawyer to protect me as a victim? The courts aren't doing it.”
James' lawyer has fought incarceration by using the mental disability defense.
So far it has worked.
James has avoided jail, but he isn't getting treatment, either.
“It sounds like he's falling between the cracks,” said Larry Muse, assistant chief probation officer. “We will bring him in for a diagnosis. ... This is a fairly difficult case.”
When I looked at the court records, at Judge Rosen's suggestion, James appeared to be the victim of a system that is unequipped to care for mentally ill offenders. There are plenty of those. “They get their check the first of the month from welfare and someone grabs them, takes them to a bar, cashes the check and takes off and they're homeless,” Judge Rosen said.
Such chronic cases are costly, time consuming and discouraging, court and probation officers say.
But James may be different.
Hamilton County taxpayers pay $27 million a year for mental health services, and $65 a day to jail inmates who have done far less.
Yet somehow, James has avoided jail and treatment. He proves that it is possible to deliberately evade the best intentions of treatment and also escape the consequences of crimes.
Too disabled for jail — but not “troubled” enough for treatment.
A frightened mother says the calls are starting again. Constant ringing — then hang-ups. “I know it's him,” she says. “If anyone has any suggestions for me, I'd love to hear them. I'd like to know how can I protect myself and my family.”
Peter Bronson is editorial page editor of The Enquirer. If you have questions or comments, call 768-8301, or write to 312 Elm Street, Cincinnati, Ohio 45202.
