Post by WaTcHeR on Nov 30, 2006 15:18:36 GMT -5
11.30.2006 - Charles Billops Jr. was not perfect. He'd been on probation for car theft as a juvenile. Then he went to prison at age 17 for stealing a PlayStation and some DVDs from a house.
But the Cedar Hill teen was supposed to be released after two years in Texas' Youthful Offender Program – an older and hopefully wiser, young man. Instead, he died after three months, a thin and incoherent teenager, suffering from an undiagnosed brain abscess due to a sinus infection.
A little over a week ago the state of Texas, without admitting wrongdoing, paid the Billops family $250,000 to settle a lawsuit alleging "deliberate indifference" by University of Texas Medical Branch personnel – the prison health care provider.
Complaints about health from inmates are common; prisoners have plenty of time to think about their aches and pains, and a trip to the medical department can break the monotony of prison life or allow access to air conditioning on a hot day.
But the teen's death in 2003 was "outrageous," said attorney Steve DeWolf, who represented the inmate's father, Charles Billops Sr. Charles Jr. lost 52 pounds in less than 100 days in prison – but never saw a doctor.
"They knew there was something terribly, terribly wrong," Mr. DeWolf said. "There is no doubt in my mind – they just didn't care."
State officials issued cursory statements but declined to talk about the case for this story. In court filings officials insisted Mr. Billops received adequate care.
"As tragic as this case is – and it is tragic – Billops did not die because defendants ignored, were inattentive to, or didn't try to save Billops," Assistant Attorney General Kim Coogan wrote. "He died because he had a very unusual, difficult to diagnose brain abscess."
The tragedy of his death is the one aspect both sides agree on.
"This is one that I hope I never see again," said Mr. DeWolf.
Growing up in a middle class neighborhood, Charles Jr. appeared to be a normal, well-adjusted kidAfter his mother died unexpectedly when he was 13, Charles Jr. "began to associate with the wrong crowd" court papers say.
Charles Sr. declined to talk, saying he was too angry. But his court deposition shows the military veteran tried to give his son stability.
He dropped him at school each morning with an "I love you." And picked him up every afternoon.
When Charles Sr. worked the night shift, first at a detention center and later at a distribution center, Charles Jr. spent the night with his grandmother.
Early warning signs appeared when he got into trouble for fighting at school and was caught with marijuana. He finally dropped out after 10th grade.
Charles Jr.'s trouble became serious when he was arrested for stealing a car. He got probation. In 2002, however, he was prosecuted for burglary.
The teen was offered six to nine months' probation in a lockdown drug treatment program, plus an aftercare program, or two years in prison, where he would be eligible for parole in six months, according to his public defender, Susan Anderson.
Like many, he chose prison , probably hoping to get out sooner.
Mr. Billops said his son told him, "I made some bad choices. I'm going to go down there and do these two years. Get my GED, and I'm going to do better."
Special program -
At the Texas Department of Criminal Justice, Charles Jr. was assigned to the Youthful Offender Program, designed to treat and educate inmates ages 14 to 19 while protecting them from older, more hardened convicts.
He entered the Clemens unit in Brazoria on Jan. 21, 2003, 6 feet 3 inches tall, 190 pounds. Though he had been diagnosed as bipolar while in the Dallas County Jail, records showed he had no major health problems.
Five weeks later, he complained of a sore throat and runny nose and a registered nurse recommended an over-the counter antihistamine.
A month later, Charles Jr. was still suffering from the same symptoms and had dropped 18 pounds. A nurse recommended he continue with the over-the-counter medication but made no further referrals.
On April 7, Charles Jr. again complained of a headache and a bloody nasal discharge. A physician's assistant ordered more over the counter medication.
Over the next few weeks, Charles Jr. complained of a variety of symptoms, including a toothache, stuffy nose, earache and bloody saliva. His weight dropped to 160 pounds. Antibiotics and eardrops were prescribed by a physician's assistant who never saw him.
Charles Jr. sometimes got the proper medication for his ongoing sinus problems, sometimes he didn't; sometimes he refused it.
In mid-April, Charles Jr. hit another inmate in a dispute over chocolate cake. His punishment was solitary confinement.
His evaluation before entering administrative segregation showed his weight was 166 but no medical problems were noted.
In segregation his condition worsened. Prison guards grew concerned. When Charles Jr. fell to his knees in the shower on April 25th and couldn't get up, officers took him to the infirmary.
Correctional officers "were doing their job," Mr. DeWolf said. "They were calling the alarms out: 'There's a problem with this guy.' And the medical system turned a blind eye."
An EKG was given. Charles Jr., who now weighed an almost skeletal 149 pounds, told staffers he hadn't eaten in six days.
Instead of being referred to a doctor, he was sent to the mental health department where a psychologist reported he was angry at being put in administrative segregation and that the food was bad. He was sent back to the medical department.
There, staff determined he was not on a hunger strike and returned him to his cell.
Over the next three days nurses checked on Charles Jr. when making rounds of solitary confinement but "did not notice any remarkable activity" according to an agency summary.
Worried father -
Back home in Cedar Hill, Charles Sr. was worried. Letters from Charles Jr., which had been frequent at first, had stopped.
On April 29, he called administrators at the Youthful Offender Program. An administrator who visited Charles Jr. later that day and encouraged him to eat.
He was down to 138 pounds. A guard also was worried by his appearance and incoherent speech, so Charles Jr. was taken by stretcher to the infimary.
This time a registered nurse consulted with a physician's assistant who ordered lab work for the next day and sent Charles Jr. back to his cell. Later that afternoon, at the urging of guards and a psychologist, Charles Jr. returned to the medical department, but after promising to eat was sent back to his cell again.
The next day the program director and a guard went to the warden,who visited Charles Jr.'s cell and encouraged him to go to the medical department for lab work.
By then Charles Jr. was too weak to hold his head up, so a team of guards shackled him , and lifted him into a wheelchair.
In the infirmary, blood was drawn and an EKG was given. He was also given yet another psychological evaluation.
Finally, a physician's assistant ordered he be taken to the prison hospital in Galveston, where he was treated for dehydration. After he was examined by a doctor, he was discharged to a psychiatric prison unit.
When officers arrived to take him to the prison unit four hours later, "Offender Billops appeared to be asleep," a TDCJ report says.
An officer lifted his hand "and noticed that it did not fall back as he let it go."
The 17-year-old was dead; he had been unattended so long, "he was rigid," said attorney DeWolf.
State officials won't say much ........
www.dallasnews.com/sharedcontent/dws/dn/latestnews/stories/111806dntexinmate.31e9238.html
But the Cedar Hill teen was supposed to be released after two years in Texas' Youthful Offender Program – an older and hopefully wiser, young man. Instead, he died after three months, a thin and incoherent teenager, suffering from an undiagnosed brain abscess due to a sinus infection.
A little over a week ago the state of Texas, without admitting wrongdoing, paid the Billops family $250,000 to settle a lawsuit alleging "deliberate indifference" by University of Texas Medical Branch personnel – the prison health care provider.
Complaints about health from inmates are common; prisoners have plenty of time to think about their aches and pains, and a trip to the medical department can break the monotony of prison life or allow access to air conditioning on a hot day.
But the teen's death in 2003 was "outrageous," said attorney Steve DeWolf, who represented the inmate's father, Charles Billops Sr. Charles Jr. lost 52 pounds in less than 100 days in prison – but never saw a doctor.
"They knew there was something terribly, terribly wrong," Mr. DeWolf said. "There is no doubt in my mind – they just didn't care."
State officials issued cursory statements but declined to talk about the case for this story. In court filings officials insisted Mr. Billops received adequate care.
"As tragic as this case is – and it is tragic – Billops did not die because defendants ignored, were inattentive to, or didn't try to save Billops," Assistant Attorney General Kim Coogan wrote. "He died because he had a very unusual, difficult to diagnose brain abscess."
The tragedy of his death is the one aspect both sides agree on.
"This is one that I hope I never see again," said Mr. DeWolf.
Growing up in a middle class neighborhood, Charles Jr. appeared to be a normal, well-adjusted kidAfter his mother died unexpectedly when he was 13, Charles Jr. "began to associate with the wrong crowd" court papers say.
Charles Sr. declined to talk, saying he was too angry. But his court deposition shows the military veteran tried to give his son stability.
He dropped him at school each morning with an "I love you." And picked him up every afternoon.
When Charles Sr. worked the night shift, first at a detention center and later at a distribution center, Charles Jr. spent the night with his grandmother.
Early warning signs appeared when he got into trouble for fighting at school and was caught with marijuana. He finally dropped out after 10th grade.
Charles Jr.'s trouble became serious when he was arrested for stealing a car. He got probation. In 2002, however, he was prosecuted for burglary.
The teen was offered six to nine months' probation in a lockdown drug treatment program, plus an aftercare program, or two years in prison, where he would be eligible for parole in six months, according to his public defender, Susan Anderson.
Like many, he chose prison , probably hoping to get out sooner.
Mr. Billops said his son told him, "I made some bad choices. I'm going to go down there and do these two years. Get my GED, and I'm going to do better."
Special program -
At the Texas Department of Criminal Justice, Charles Jr. was assigned to the Youthful Offender Program, designed to treat and educate inmates ages 14 to 19 while protecting them from older, more hardened convicts.
He entered the Clemens unit in Brazoria on Jan. 21, 2003, 6 feet 3 inches tall, 190 pounds. Though he had been diagnosed as bipolar while in the Dallas County Jail, records showed he had no major health problems.
Five weeks later, he complained of a sore throat and runny nose and a registered nurse recommended an over-the counter antihistamine.
A month later, Charles Jr. was still suffering from the same symptoms and had dropped 18 pounds. A nurse recommended he continue with the over-the-counter medication but made no further referrals.
On April 7, Charles Jr. again complained of a headache and a bloody nasal discharge. A physician's assistant ordered more over the counter medication.
Over the next few weeks, Charles Jr. complained of a variety of symptoms, including a toothache, stuffy nose, earache and bloody saliva. His weight dropped to 160 pounds. Antibiotics and eardrops were prescribed by a physician's assistant who never saw him.
Charles Jr. sometimes got the proper medication for his ongoing sinus problems, sometimes he didn't; sometimes he refused it.
In mid-April, Charles Jr. hit another inmate in a dispute over chocolate cake. His punishment was solitary confinement.
His evaluation before entering administrative segregation showed his weight was 166 but no medical problems were noted.
In segregation his condition worsened. Prison guards grew concerned. When Charles Jr. fell to his knees in the shower on April 25th and couldn't get up, officers took him to the infirmary.
Correctional officers "were doing their job," Mr. DeWolf said. "They were calling the alarms out: 'There's a problem with this guy.' And the medical system turned a blind eye."
An EKG was given. Charles Jr., who now weighed an almost skeletal 149 pounds, told staffers he hadn't eaten in six days.
Instead of being referred to a doctor, he was sent to the mental health department where a psychologist reported he was angry at being put in administrative segregation and that the food was bad. He was sent back to the medical department.
There, staff determined he was not on a hunger strike and returned him to his cell.
Over the next three days nurses checked on Charles Jr. when making rounds of solitary confinement but "did not notice any remarkable activity" according to an agency summary.
Worried father -
Back home in Cedar Hill, Charles Sr. was worried. Letters from Charles Jr., which had been frequent at first, had stopped.
On April 29, he called administrators at the Youthful Offender Program. An administrator who visited Charles Jr. later that day and encouraged him to eat.
He was down to 138 pounds. A guard also was worried by his appearance and incoherent speech, so Charles Jr. was taken by stretcher to the infimary.
This time a registered nurse consulted with a physician's assistant who ordered lab work for the next day and sent Charles Jr. back to his cell. Later that afternoon, at the urging of guards and a psychologist, Charles Jr. returned to the medical department, but after promising to eat was sent back to his cell again.
The next day the program director and a guard went to the warden,who visited Charles Jr.'s cell and encouraged him to go to the medical department for lab work.
By then Charles Jr. was too weak to hold his head up, so a team of guards shackled him , and lifted him into a wheelchair.
In the infirmary, blood was drawn and an EKG was given. He was also given yet another psychological evaluation.
Finally, a physician's assistant ordered he be taken to the prison hospital in Galveston, where he was treated for dehydration. After he was examined by a doctor, he was discharged to a psychiatric prison unit.
When officers arrived to take him to the prison unit four hours later, "Offender Billops appeared to be asleep," a TDCJ report says.
An officer lifted his hand "and noticed that it did not fall back as he let it go."
The 17-year-old was dead; he had been unattended so long, "he was rigid," said attorney DeWolf.
State officials won't say much ........
www.dallasnews.com/sharedcontent/dws/dn/latestnews/stories/111806dntexinmate.31e9238.html