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July 15, 2001
States
Pressed as 3 Boys Die at Boot Camps
By Michael Janofsky
Salt Lake City
-- The death of Tony Haynes, a 14-year-old, in the Arizona desert
this month is increasing calls for stronger regulation of outdoor
camps for troubled youths, an industry that has grown substantially
over the last 20 years.
At least 31
teenagers in 11 states have died at these camps since 1980,
including 3 this year, in widely diverse circumstances. In Arizona,
investigators said they were told that before Tony Haynes died
counselors physically abused him and forced him to eat dirt.
In February,
Ryan Lewis, a 14- year-old, hanged himself at a wilderness therapy
camp in West Virginia. His parents have asserted that the camp
operators did not recognize the severity of his depression.
That same month
in Florida, Michael Wiltsie, 12, died at a camp for troubled boys
after a 320-pound counselor restrained him on the ground for nearly
30 minutes.
These are
exceptional cases, given the thousands of children each year who
attend such camps, normally without incident. Parents who enroll
their children and teachers often credit the camps with taking young
people away from gangs, drugs and alcohol and instilling in them a
new maturity and sense of self-confidence. They operate on the
theory that rugged conditions and tough discipline can break
antisocial behavior or even criminal habits.
State and local
courts also use the programs, as an alternative to jail. Yet the
deaths and reports of abuses are putting increased pressure on
states to adopt regulations to govern the roughly 400 boot camps
operating around the country. While most states have laws against
child abuse and endangerment, many do not specifically compel these
camps to meet certain standards for procedures and personnel.
"There are
significant disparities from state to state," said Kimball DeLaMare,
a camp owner in Utah and the chairman of the National Association of
Therapeutic Schools and Programs, a trade group. "Over all, they
have not done too much, which is one of the reasons we are trying to
develop our own standards."
Arizona is among
those states that have done the least. "You have to provide more
documents to get a fishing license than to run a camp for young
boys," said Chris Cummiskey, a Democratic state senator. "We require
nothing to demonstrate you have the qualifications to engage in this
type of activity."
Industry
officials say they welcome additional governmental scrutiny of the
camps, some of which operate on contracts with state prison systems.
"Every state that allows wilderness programs needs to have
regulations in place," said Mark Lawrence, an owner of a camp in
South Carolina and the chairman of the National Association of
Therapeutic Wilderness Camps, another trade group. "And somebody has
to monitor them."
Children's
advocates and parents of children who have died under supervision of
camp personnel say abuses would end altogether if states got
tougher, requiring camp operators to have suitable backgrounds in
education, psychology or social work. "This is one of the big gaps
and a big part of the problem," said Mark I. Soler, president of the
Youth Law Center in Washington, a public interest law firm. "As a
result, kids are not protected, and they don't even understand that
they have rights. They believe the abusive treatment they get is
routine."
Critics also
argue that camps should have medical personnel on site, which was
not the case when Tony Haynes fell unconscious in the desert. After
camp counselors called 911, the boy was driven to a hospital, where
he died. Cathy Sutton, who has campaigned for governmental oversight
since her 15-year-old daughter, Michelle, died at a Utah camp 11
years ago, said: "The industry is getting so big, it's harder to
regulate. That's why we need national regulations for these camps or
we should abolish them altogether."
The deaths of
Ms. Sutton's daughter and two other young people at Utah outdoor
camps in the early 1990's prompted the state to become the first in
the nation to put in place rules specifically for the camps. The
regulations mandated age and background requirements for counselors,
a minimum age of 13 for students, and guidelines for adequate
supplies of food, water and even sunscreen. State monitors are
required to visit the camps several times a year, sometimes
unannounced.
Ken Stettler,
who helped develop the rules for the Utah Department of Human
Services, conceded that state officials only responded after several
children had died, saying, "States tend to be reactionary, rather
than proactionary."
In the last few
years, Mr. Stettler said, he has worked with officials in Nevada and
Idaho to draft similar regulations. Other states where adolescents
have died in outdoor programs, including Florida, Texas and Oregon,
have also tightened their regulations, he said. The West Virginia
Legislature is expected to debate new laws when it convenes next
year. But monitoring these camps poses a fiscal burden for states.
For that reason, Hawaii has banned outdoor camps, and some states
with regulations do not have the resources to enforce them.
In many states,
oversight is minimal. In Arizona, where 10 children have died since
1989, the state has not enacted any regulations - despite such
highly publicized cases as the 1998 death of Nicholaus Contreraz,
16, which led to murder charges against six staff members at the
Arizona Boys Camp in Oracle. The charges were later dropped, but the
family won a $1 million settlement of a wrongful-death lawsuit.
"We had
extensive hearings and a lot of clamoring to strengthen regulations
and oversight," said Mr. Cummiskey, the Arizona legislator, of the
response to the deaths. "But we have a Legislature with
conservatives who take a skewed view that oversight and regulation
should be left to the free market."
David Petersen,
a Republican state senator, disagreed. "I haven't seen any real
efforts by anyone to champion the cause," he said. "Sometimes you
need a jolt to drive home the issue. With this latest tragedy, I do
believe we will get involved."
For now, the
industry is trying to devise its own standards. Of course, meeting
those standards - providing doctors and better-trained personnel,
for instance - might also increase the cost of running the camps,
making them less affordable to poor and middle-income families.
There are also
problems that will never be solved through regulation. Michael
Conner, who runs a nonprofit consumer protection organization for
wilderness therapy programs, said parents had to assume some
responsibility for the safety of their children. "The biggest
problem is that people don't always know what they're getting into,"
he said.
Paul and Diana
Lewis of East Longmeadow, Mass., learned that problems could arise
even after thoroughly investigating a camp. Their son, Ryan, killed
himself in February, while attending Alldredge Academy in West
Virginia. After being improperly medicated, he cut himself with a
knife four times before asking counselors to take the weapon away,
Mrs. Lewis said. When he asked to call his parents, his request was
denied.
The next day,
counselors returned the knife to the boy. Hours later, he was found
hanging from a tree not far from the campsite. The authorities ruled
it a suicide. Camp officials said they had violated no state
regulations.
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