Shelter Has Reported 40 Kids Missing

Thursday, July 13, 2000

Miami Herald

BY CAROL MARBIN MILLER cmarbin@herald.com

Sharon Cobb has lost a lot of sleep in the last few years worrying about her teenage daughter. Schanell Cobb skips school, lashes out at family members, smokes dope and stays out late with the wrong people, her mother says.

But at least Cobb knew where her daughter was sleeping at night. That is, until May 5, when Schanell walked out of the Lippman Family Center in Oakland Park where she had been after state juvenile justice authorities sent her there for court-ordered counseling.

The 14-year-old has not been seen since.

``I don't know where my baby is,'' Sharon Cobb, 38, said Wednesday at her Hallandale Beach home. ``I don't know whether my baby is alive.''

On May 5, the operators of the Lippman Center filed a missing person's report on Schanell with the Oakland Park Public Safety Department. It was one of 40 missing person reports the police department received from the shelter between Jan. 1 and June 30 of this year, and among 168 incidents at the shelter reported to police during that time.

One child ran away from the shelter six months ago, and is still missing, said Oakland Park police Sgt. Richard LaCerra.

Oakland Park police would not provide The Herald with a copy of the police report on Schanell's disappearance Wednesday, saying the case remains under investigation.

The Lippman Family Center, at 221 NW 43rd Ct., has been under heavy scrutiny since 15-year-old Anthony Dumas was found hanging from his own leather belt June 12. Three staff members on duty that night failed to cut him down; he remained hanging until police arrived minutes later.

Officials with Lutheran Services Florida, the Tampa-based nonprofit agency that operates the shelter, say they have no way to guarantee that children in their care remain at the 28-bed shelter -- and juvenile justice authorities largely agree.

``We are not a locked facility,'' said Joy Margolis, a spokeswoman for Lutheran Services in Tampa. Shelter officials have refused to comment, referring all questions to Lutheran Services.

``By law, we are prevented from detaining [children] from leaving. When children do leave, we certainly notify their parents, and, of course, authorities, if the children are court-ordered to be there,'' Margolis said.

George Hinchliffe, assistant secretary of the Department of Juvenile Justice for programming and planning, said youth service officials have long been hamstrung by competing philosophies regarding the care of troubled children who are not accused of committing a crime.

On the one hand, state laws until very recently prevented authorities from locking up children who are not accused of a crime. On the other hand, children are not safe wandering the streets.

Through a state program called Children in Need of Services, a Juvenile Court judge may order children into counseling or treatment at a shelter such as Lippman, the only such facility in Broward.

Usually, the order follows a complaint from parents, school counselors or police that a teenager continually skips class, runs away or is out of control at home.

``We have two conflicting societal needs here,'' Hinchliffe said Wednesday. ``We hear parents all the time say, `I can't hold on to my child long enough to get him the help he needs. The system is hollow in its ability to give kids the help they need'.

``On the other side of the coin, these are noncriminal acts,'' Hinchliffe added. ``This is America. We don't lock people up for noncriminal acts.''

Cobb doesn't care much about philosophy. She just wants her daughter back.

``I sleep in her bed sometimes, just so I can feel her presence,'' Cobb said. ``I have nightmares about her. My daughter is safe nowhere but at home.''

Schanell -- and her mother -- have been in trouble with authorities for several years. Cobb has weathered two separate investigations by the Department of Children and Families into allegations that she was unfit to raise her four children, she said.

Cobb is disabled by a spinal injury; public assistance is her sole source of income. In the fall of 1997, Cobb's family lived without water or electricity. That winter, police condemned her Hollywood home, and she says she was turned away from a homeless shelter.

Cobb now lives in a cramped but tidy home in Hallandale Beach.

Reports from state social service agencies indicate that Cobb has done her best to raise her children, despite some stiff challenges. Her family ``showed great receptivity to services, and was very cooperative in working toward achieving goals,'' according to a March 1998 report from Family Builders, a support group assigned to help the Cobbs.

``Ms. Cobb displayed good judgment in making the right choices that benefit her family,'' the report states. ``Although Ms. Cobb had struggled to maintain a stable [home], she has gone to great lengths in ensuring a stable environment.''

But in April, after Schanell skipped school on five separate days, a state social service worker picked her up from her home and took her to Lippman. Schanell stayed at the shelter a week, and was released May 1. Three days later, police picked her up at McNicol Middle School after she violated a condition of her release, and again took her to Lippman.

``She told me she was handcuffed,'' Cobb said.

On May 4, shelter workers discovered Schanell missing at an 11 p.m. bed check, records show. Two hours later, staff saw the girl sleeping in her bed.

The next morning, however, Schanell was gone again.

A May 23 order by Broward Circuit Judge Susan J. Aramony requires police to take Schanell into immediate custody if she is found.

``The child is a habitual truant and runaway, and has consistently failed to obey this [judge's] orders,'' the order states. ``She may be in grave danger.''

Cobb, meanwhile, said authorities have done nothing to suggest they consider her daughter's disappearance an urgent concern. ``I feel sick,'' she said.