Chilling audio provides glimpse into abuse at state-run facility
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[October 11, 2022]
By BETH HUNDSDORFER
Capitol News Illinois
MOLLY PARKER
Lee Enterprises Midwest
Note: Article contains content and language
that may be offensive to some.
ANNA, Ill. — The disturbing 911 call began
with sounds of a struggle, then a voice that sounded like a child’s
cried out, “Let me go.” When the police dispatcher in the rural southern
Illinois community announced herself, no one responded.
She heard other voices, laughing and taunting, then a female voice said,
“You want me to break your other finger?”
There was shouting, and someone crying “Let me go” at least a dozen more
times.
At one point the victim — who was later identified as a 22-year-old
resident of the Choate Mental Health and Developmental Center — said “I
don’t like you.”
“I don’t give a shit,” a woman responded.
Almost five minutes passed on the June 2020 call before the dispatcher
got the attention of someone on the other end of the line. Then the
connection went dead.
With the audio recording in hand, the Illinois State Police launched an
investigation. They learned that the call was made as Choate employees
attempted to restrain a patient: A smart watch jostled in the struggle
had accidentally dialed emergency services. They discovered that the
voice heard pleading for help belonged to Alijah Luellen, who has
Prader-Willi syndrome, a genetic condition that can cause severe
childhood obesity, intellectual disability and behavioral problems. They
also discovered that the other voices belonged to the employees paid to
care for him.
Nonetheless, such incriminating evidence was not enough to hold anyone
accountable.
Such failures of accountability at Choate, which is run by the Illinois
Department of Human Services, do not begin or end with the 911 call.
Reporting by Lee Enterprises Midwest, Capitol News Illinois and
ProPublica reveals a culture of cover-ups that makes it harder to reform
the 270-bed developmental center for people with intellectual and
developmental disabilities and mental illnesses. In dozens of cases,
records show that Choate employees have lied to state police and to
investigators with IDHS’ Office of the Inspector General; walked out of
interviews, plotted to cover up or obfuscate alleged abuse and neglect;
and failed to follow policies intended to protect the integrity of
investigations.
The findings follow stories by the three news organizations last month
that exposed abuses patients have suffered at Choate. In response to
those articles, Illinois Gov. J.B. Pritzker issued a warning to state
workers: Put an end to “awful” abuses or the state may be forced to shut
the facility down.
IDHS did not dispute any of the news organizations’ findings, and it
said in a statement that the agency requires employees to cooperate with
OIG investigations and trains them on the need to be truthful with both
the OIG and state police. Similarly, IDHS trains staff on preventing and
reporting abuse and neglect on at least a yearly basis.
But as the 911 incident reveals, cleaning up the facility’s practices
may not be easy.
When police questioned several of the employees on shift that night,
they all told the investigators that they believed it had been a routine
restraint, something they did to Luellen several times a week. One
worker also said the order for strapping Luellen to his bed was made
after the patient was “verbally uncooperative” and reached for the shirt
of an employee who told him he couldn’t stay up and watch TV after 10
p.m., according to the police report. Records show he remained in
restraints for two hours. During a medical examination after the
incident, a doctor found tenderness in his finger and bruises on his
upper body.
The investigators played the audio recording of the 911 call to each
employee and wrote down their reactions. According to notes from their
interviews, one worker acted nervous and told them all the shouting was
making her anxious; another told them he wished that they didn’t have
the audio because it “sounds bad.”
Yet they all claimed they couldn’t recognize the voice of the worker who
threatened the patient on the 911 call.
In addition, two employees cut their interviews with investigators short
and walked out. (Law enforcement cannot compel employees to answer
questions, according to state police; IDHS said that employees’
participation in criminal investigations is not mandated as a condition
of employment.) Another employee, in internal paperwork, initially
stated he assisted in the restraint. He later told police he had
falsified the paperwork and wasn’t actually in the room, according to
the police report.
The victim’s statement also wasn’t helpful in making the case: Because
of Luellen’s severe speech impediment, state police investigators asked
him to write down the initials of anyone who hurt him. He returned to
them a page of illegible scribbles.
This June, two years after the incident, the Union County prosecutor
declined to bring charges, citing insufficient evidence. State police
interviewed six mental health technicians and one nurse who were working
on the unit that night. Two of the mental health techs who participated
in restraining Luellen were trainees; one was fired and the other
resigned. Two permanent employees have been on paid administrative leave
since the incident. None of the permanent employees were fired. The
nurse who ordered the restraints left Choate in December 2021 and
accepted a new job with the Illinois Department of Veterans’ Affairs.
Reporters obtained a copy of the 911 call by making a Freedom of
Information Act request to Union County and provided the agency a copy
of the recording and questions about their handling of the case. But
when asked about the recording, the agency spokesperson said senior
officials had not listened to the 911 call and that it couldn’t be
released to them because it was part of an ongoing OIG review. That
review could lead to discipline against employees.
Benita Hunter, Luellen’s aunt and legal guardian, also received the
recording from reporters; hearing it for the first time left her stunned
and heartbroken.
“They’re supposed to be there to support and help the clients that they
have coming in,” Hunter said. “Alijah, he wouldn’t be able to explain
everything because of his developmental delays, and they know that. He
cannot defend himself and speak against them.”
Elusive Justice
While audio evidence of abuse is rare, the actions taken by Choate staff
in the aftermath of the investigation were not.
The OIG cited Choate employees in more than four dozen cases between
2015 and 2021 for lying or providing false statements to OIG
investigators; for failing to report an allegation within four hours of
its discovery, as is required by law; and for other failures to follow
department policy concerning the reporting and investigation of abuse
and neglect, according to an analysis of OIG records by the news
organizations.
Of the 1,180 allegations of abuse and neglect made during that time
frame, OIG ruled that only a tiny fraction were substantiated — meaning
that it found credible evidence to support the allegation. But records
and interviews make clear that investigatory missteps and lack of
employee cooperation can quickly derail an investigation.
Stacey Aschemann of Equip for Equality, a disability rights legal aid
organization that officially monitors the facility for the state, said,
“We commonly observe that no staff saw or heard anything, which is
unlikely.”
She added, “We have reason to believe that there are multiple cases that
would have been substantiated if additional evidence had been
available.”
In an interview, Union County State’s Attorney Tyler Tripp said he was
disturbed by the 911 recording in which Luellen was threatened. He was
also troubled by the fact that he couldn’t make a case. He kept it open
for two years, he said, hoping someone would come forward with more
information.
It’s not the only case in which he has encountered stonewalling that has
made prosecution difficult.
“In these types of situations, a select group of bad actors coordinate
in anticipation of an investigation to get their stories straight, to
obscure evidence and to frustrate the investigation,” Tripp said.
He said investigations are typically stymied if patient testimony is not
corroborated by employee witnesses. In addition, he said, some patients
aren’t even able to tell police what happened. Nearly 15% of residents
at Choate have a developmental disability that is diagnosed as severe or
profound, and about 10% are nonverbal.
Another case from the same year that has languished on Tripp’s desk
involves a resident who alleges a Choate employee wrapped a towel around
the patient’s neck until he passed out, according to two people who are
intimately familiar with the investigation but not authorized to comment
on it. A different staffer discovered the patient unconscious with a red
mark on his neck.
The accused employee denied the accusation and refused an interview by
police. Other employees claimed they didn’t know what happened.
Tripp has yet to make a decision on whether he will press charges, and
he declined to comment on the details of the case. He said that in
general, when he delays a decision, it’s because an investigation has
brought forth some evidence but not as much as is needed to successfully
prosecute a case.
Though uncooperative facility staff had long frustrated state police
investigations, administrators became the target of an investigation in
January 2020. It started when two employees reported that they witnessed
a colleague, Kevin Jackson, remove his belt and repeatedly use it to
whip a female patient. The employees, who worked in a neighboring
building, reported that they saw the assault through the victim’s
bedroom window.
After an OIG investigator notified state police of the allegation
against Jackson, assistant administrators Teresa Smith and Gary Goins
looked at the investigatory file and then sent a psychologist to speak
with the patient while the police were still on their way, according to
then-security chief Barry Smoot, in his testimony before a Union County
grand jury. After the police arrived, the victim said that someone other
than Jackson had hit her.
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Alex Bandoni/ProPublica (Source Images:
Whitney Curtis for ProPublica and an Illinois State Police case
file)
Longstanding OIG policy had prohibited administrative involvement in
abuse and neglect investigations to avoid conflicts of interest.
According to Smoot, facility director Bryant Davis also accessed the
file, along with Smith, on a different occasion. And state police Sgt.
Rick White testified before a Union County grand jury that the
administrators’ interventions were unusual and threatened to derail the
investigation, court records show.
Jackson, the mental health tech, pleaded not guilty to a felony battery
charge and his case is pending. The administrators were also initially
charged with felony official misconduct; the state’s attorney withdrew
those charges but left open the possibility of filing new ones.
Senior department officials have defended the actions of the Choate
administrators. Attempts to reach the administrators for comment,
including facility director Davis, were not successful. Jackson declined
to comment.
State Sen. Terri Bryant, a Republican from Murphysboro whose district
includes Choate, said she was alarmed by the department’s handling of
this case. Shortly after the reported assault, Bryant said, she received
a call from a worker informing her that employees had placed paper over
the windows on the unit where the incident occurred.
Bryant said she went to see it for herself, then called an IDHS
administrator in Springfield to inquire about it. He called the facility
and was told the paper had been taken down. He relayed that information
to Bryant. But Bryant said she was sitting outside the building when he
called her back and could see from her car that it was still up. In
August, 20 months after the assault, the paper was still there.
An IDHS spokesperson said, “At times, paper was on windows because the
window fixtures were on order. The paper would have been for privacy in
resident bedrooms.”
Few Consequences
Serious consequences in cases of abuse and misconduct are rare. The
Illinois State Police opened at least 40 investigations at Choate over
the past decade. Of those, 28, including Luellen’s case, did not result
in any criminal charges, with the Union County prosecutor most
frequently citing insufficient evidence as the reason for not moving
forward. The other 12 investigations resulted in felony charges against
26 employees, with most pleading guilty to misdemeanor charges or having
their cases dismissed entirely. (A few are pending.) Only one employee
was convicted of a felony — for hiding evidence, rather than for the
underlying abuse. To date, no one has served prison time.
Beyond the lack of criminal sanctions, employees are also rarely fired
for misconduct, including actions that obstruct investigations.
According to a review of records where OIG cited Choate for problems, by
far the most common response to the deficiencies cited was a
recommendation for “retraining.” The response was included in cases
where OIG cited employees for lying or otherwise impeding an
investigation. One former official at Choate said the department’s
retraining amounted to providing employees with a policy document and
having them sign a form saying that they’d read it.
In one 2016 case, Choate planned a training for the entire staff that
addresses “late reporting of abuse/neglect, staff members encouraging,
bribing or coercing individuals regarding OIG investigations and
obstruction with an ongoing OIG investigation,” IDHS records show. The
department redacted details about what prompted the retraining.
In 25 cases, the department acknowledged a need to retrain workers in
how to treat Choate’s clients with “dignity and respect.” IDHS’ policy
for employees demands that they do not engage in dehumanizing practices,
such as cursing, yelling, mocking or other cruel treatment.
Though the details of incidents were redacted in most of these cases,
employees have been cited by OIG in recent years for using racist,
homophobic and derogatory language toward people with disabilities,
including calling them “retards.”
Code of Silence
C. Thomas Cook, who has worked with people with developmental
disabilities for more than 50 years across four Midwestern states,
including Illinois, said that it’s not uncommon for employees in large
facilities like Choate to close ranks and protect one another in the
face of abuse allegations.
When the code of silence is deeply entrenched, Cook said, it takes far
more than retraining to change the culture. Things like cameras and
monitors can help, Cook said, but employees also need to know that they
will face strict sanctions, including criminal charges and dismissals,
if they cover for abusive colleagues.
“There are ways to disrupt that code of silence,” Cook said. “It’s the
responsibility of the people who run the programs to do it.”
It's especially problematic, he said, in communities where the employees
are part of a tightly knit population with a common interest in
protecting each other.
That characterization could perfectly describe the facility in rural
Anna, a town with a population of about 4,200. Reporters identified
numerous instances in which investigations involved two or more suspects
who were relatives, friends or in romantic relationships with one
another, according to the police records.
In one case, a Choate social worker offered to help police interview
patients during an abuse investigation, but then police discovered she
was the girlfriend of the technician who was the target of the
investigation. Two recently charged employees are relatives of the
current acting security chief, whose job is on the front line of
investigations. He declined to comment. This August, a senior IDHS
official grew concerned enough about the familial relationships between
security officers and the employees they were investigating that he sent
an email to select staff reminding them of the need to recuse themselves
to avoid even the appearance of a conflict of interest, emails obtained
by reporters showed.
When a facility is critical to a struggling local economy, Cook said,
that can compound the incentives to cover up misconduct. Choate serves
the poorest part of the state, and the facility has been Union County’s
largest employer for decades. A former administrator once told The
Southern Illinoisan that if Choate wasn’t there, “Anna would dry up and
probably blow away.” The facility has employed generations of the same
families, including that of longtime Anna Mayor Steve Hartline, whose
mother and father worked there while he was growing up.
Hartline went on to serve for decades as head of security at Choate,
where his officers were the first line of inquiry when there was an
allegation of patient mistreatment. Hartline said he believed the
scrutiny resulting from the recent staff arrests has given Choate an
unfair bad rap; he rejected the premise that employees were protecting
each other.
“There’s no such thing as a code of silence at Choate. If there is
something found, such as a broken policy, it’s duly noted and dealt with
by administration and labor relations,” he said.
But Hunter, Luellen’s aunt, said that it was upsetting that the
employees who threatened and mocked her nephew did not face serious
consequences for their behavior. Luellen has since moved to a different
state-run center about 100 miles north. But during the more than two
years the young man lived at Choate, Hunter said she believed staff
restrained him too often and failed to teach him skills to manage his
behavior. Every time she spoke with staff, “they promised that he was
getting the utmost care,” she said. “But my heart and my spirit was not
telling me that he was actually receiving that from them.”
*****
The Numbers Behind Choate’s Cover-Up Culture
Between 2015 and 2021, the Office of the Inspector General for the
Illinois Department of Human Services received 1,180 allegations of
abuse and neglect at Choate. But late reporting, uncooperative
employees, lack of video evidence, conflicting witness accounts and
other investigatory missteps can result in the OIG being unable to
obtain enough evidence to substantiate an allegation — even when there
are unexplained patient injuries.
We requested these records, but OIG refused to send them all, citing
state law that prohibits the release of details from unsubstantiated
cases. They did send a stack of information from that same time period
regarding substantiated cases, along with records from 184 cases in
which the OIG identified problems and asked Choate administrators to
respond with their plans for remedying the situation. These are cases in
which OIG flagged serious issues, although they may not have had enough
evidence to support the allegation.
The files they sent are a record of Choate’s required responses. Most of
them were heavily redacted, but they offered a window into some of the
problems OIG investigators face at Choate:
• In 29 cases, Choate administrators acknowledged that employees failed
to follow department policy concerning the reporting and investigation
of abuse and neglect.
• In 11 instances, Choate employees failed to report an allegation of
abuse or neglect within four hours of discovery, as the law requires.
• In nine cases, the OIG found that employees lied or provided false
statements to investigators.
• In more than one-third of the 184 cases where the OIG asked for a
response, the only recommendation from Choate officials was to “retrain”
employees.
• In 14 cases, employees were discharged, terminated or suspended.
Ultimately, the OIG revealed that over the seven years for which we
requested data, it was only able to substantiate 48 cases — roughly 4%.
This article was produced for
ProPublica’s Local Reporting Network in partnership with Lee
Enterprises,
along with Capitol
News Illinois. |