March 9, 2006
Sheriffs: Lack of Money Hurts Boot Camps: In
the Wake of a Teen's Death at a Panama City juvenile Boot Camp, the
Sheriffs Who Manage the Camps Decried a Lack of Funding From the
State
By MARC CAPUTO AND MARY ELLEN KLAS
mcaputo@MiamiHerald.com
TALLAHASSEE
In the fallout from a teen's death in a Panama
City juvenile boot camp, the sheriffs running the camps have a
message for anyone criticizing their poor performance: Blame
lawmakers in the Capitol who shortchange them year after year.
But the finger-pointing doesn't stop there.
On Wednesday, state legislators accused Gov.
Jeb Bush and his Department of Juvenile Justice chief for submitting
low-ball budget requests that don't give a true picture of the cost
of running the camps. The issue of boot camps was never on the radar
screen until 14-year-old Martin Lee Anderson died Jan. 6, hours
after he entered the Panama City boot camp in Bay County. The
spotlight was quickly shone on the four other boot camps in Florida,
and some sheriffs have had enough of being asked why the programs
they run under contract to DJJ aren't as successful in stopping kids
from a life of crime.
Echoing their frustration: Guy Tunnell, head of
the Florida Department of Law Enforcement. Tunnell, Bush's
handpicked state law enforcement chief, is also the former Bay
County sheriff who founded the Panama City boot camp.
REQUESTS MADE
''For YEARS, we . . . asked for more equitable
funding so as to allow us to expand the services. . . . Only to be
met with more bureaucratic red tape, frustration, etc.,'' Tunnell,
head of the Florida Department of Law Enforcement, wrote in a Feb.
17 e-mail to a sheriff, adding, ``I'm singing to the choir -- just
feels good to get it off my chest!''
Martin County Sheriff Bob Crowder doesn't stop
with a blanket criticism of ''the state.'' He runs the
best-performing boot camp in Florida, according to DJJ statistics,
but is closing it in June for lack of money.
''The problem is the dysfunctionality in
Tallahassee,'' Crowder said. ''You've got DJJ not putting [all the
needed money] in the budget, and you have the Legislature saying
it's DJJ's responsibility. Both point their fingers at the
governor's office. And he obviously doesn't give authority.'' The
governor's agency heads, Crowder added, ``can't do anything. They
are micromanaged. And micromanagement is mismanagement.''
But on Wednesday, DJJ Secretary Anthony
Schembri appeared before the House Juvenile Justice Committee and
portrayed himself as a big booster of boot camps. Schembri described
an underfunded and poorly staffed juvenile-justice system.
Schembri suggested ''the recent publicity''
played a role in the closing of Martin County's camp -- which the
sheriff denies -- and also talked about how he wanted to offer more
treatment programs that help keep offenders from getting arrested
again.
Rep. Mitch Needleman, a Melbourne Republican,
became impatient.
''You are not going to be able to shift the
blame to this Legislature,'' Needleman shot back, pointing out that
Schembri didn't ask for any extra money for treatment programs in
the budget. He said that last year the Legislature put aside $12
million in additional money for juvenile detention programs and
``not one penny of it was requested by DJJ.''
Needleman also noted that the $1.3 million
extra DJJ proposed spending on boot camps came about ``now that we
have a death.''
PRAISE, CAUTION
Noting Florida's historically low juvenile
crime rates, Bush said last week that the boot camps are a success
but cautioned that sheriffs, like everyone else, won't get all the
money they seek. He met with the sheriffs and their workers
Wednesday.
Last year, Bush helped move money around in
DJJ's budget to give an additional $360,000 for Martin County's boot
camp and $200,000 for the Polk County boot camp. Both sheriffs say
they needed it to remain open. Next year's proposed $71 billion
budget will be debated during the 60-day lawmaking session that
began Tuesday.
When Sheriff Crowder saw DJJ's budget request
this fall for his boot camp, he said he would be $1 million in the
hole. He was short-staffed, having reduced positions to make ends
meet year after year. So he decided to fold Florida's
best-performing boot camp in June. Only 22 percent of the Martin
camp kids commit crimes within a year of graduation -- 7.2 percent
lower than expected, according to DJJ statistics that factor in the
percentage of youth likely to re-offend. The Panama City boot camp
re-offender rate was 55 percent -- 3.3 percent higher than expected.
The Martin and Polk County boot camps are the
only ones to offer extensive counseling and treatment after kids
graduate. For that reason, the sheriffs say, they have the lowest
re-offender rates. The two camps are also the only ones that don't
supplement their budgets with local tax money.
Martin has cut 11 staff positions in the past
five years, and Polk has held open eight positions.
FRUSTRATION
Polk Sheriff Grady Judd said he's committed to
keeping the camp open, but said he also is frustrated. Pointing to
strong educational gains and relatively few complaints, he said he
doesn't like the boot camps being blamed for abusing kids. He said
his guards use force only as a last resort to keep kids from hurting
themselves or others.
Watching it all in envy: Manatee County Sheriff
Charlie Wells, who started the boot camp movement in Florida in
1993. His camp has the worst re-offender rate, 58 percent. Neither
Bay nor Manatee's camps offer extensive counseling or day-treatment
programs that help kids transition back into society. Said Wells:
``The other sheriffs have that, and I want that as well. I need that
as well. I don't like dragging up the rear.''
But Martin's sheriff said Wells should get used
to it, because getting money out of Tallahassee is an uphill battle.
''In 2001 [after Sept. 11], I pointed my finger
out the window to show all the new concrete barriers and the new
troopers to protect lawmakers in Tallahassee. But what about
protecting the little old ladies on the block?'' Crowder said.
``Years later, and nothing's really changed.''
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