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Title: Tortured to Death
Author: Andrea Moore Emmett
Date: July 23, 1998

Three years after a much publicized settlement agreement by the state of Utah and Gov. Mike Leavitt should have protected her, nine-month-old Breanna Marie Courtney Loveless was killed, or rather tortured to death.

She didn't die swiftly or mercifully, but instead found her end one painful day at a time: The infant suffered nose and ear infections; incessant diarrhea; facial bruises; broken arms; a broken leg; a broken clavicle; multiple contusions and abrasions of the face, right arm, upper chest, left hip and back, among other things.

But despite the immediate health concerns, obvious injuries and numerous other red flags, Breanna was not rescued from the environment that was killing her, although officials from the State Division of Child and Family Services (DCFS) had been advised of her peril. The question is, "why?" Why was this nine-month-old baby allowed to be abused to death?

Documents obtained by City Weekly paint a picture of confusion as well as righteous indignation within DCFS. Beyond that, an assistant Utah Attorney General says despite the needless death, lessons are not being learned at DCFS and the agency continues to leave children, like Breanna, in harm's way.

Gov. Leavitt lays the bold claim that Utah's DCFS is a model for other states. Yet the bodies of Utah children under the protection of the state's foster system continue to pile up. Since a legally binding agreement in 1994, 49 Utah children have died. According to Utah Department of Human Services (DHS), 20 children died last year, as Leavitt pronounced DCFS' new overhaul a success.

But the National Center for Youth Law (NCYL), the San Francisco-based advocacy group that brought suit against Leavitt and Utah for failing to protect foster children and those reported as abused or neglected, need only point as far as the dozens of Breanna Lovelesses to make its point: DCFS, despite an infusion of cash and a new director, is a seemingly dysfunctional system that puts what the administration calls "family" before the well being of the children in its custody.

More than five years after the U.S. District Court for Utah forced Leavitt to hammer out an agreement with NCYL, the legal battle is about to heat up again. NCYL wants the settlement agreement to be extended another two years to keep Utah and DCFS under the federal court's watchful eye and hopefully to keep more Breanna Lovelesses from being killed.

But the governor and Utah Attorney General Jan Graham want the legal agreement to expire on its August expiration date.

Meanwhile, Leavitt has gone on a public relations offensive, saying the San Francisco youth advocacy group is just a bunch of attorneys seeking $200 an hour paydays. "We're spending our money to care for children, and we'd like not to spend our money on lawyers," a miffed Leavitt scolded.

As a matter of fact, Utah has thrown over $100 million during the last four years at DCFS. Almost half of the money comes from the federal government on condition that Utah operates its child welfare system in accordance with federal law.

But nearly two decades after the Federal Child Welfare and Adoption Assistance Act of 1980, Utah is still out of compliance with federal mandates. In other words, DCFS apparently is not caring properly for foster kids and other at-risk children. What Utah does have to show for all the money is a bigger bureaucracy—49 percent more administrators and 69 percent more case workers.

Compounding the state's legal problems surrounding DCFS, is a civil lawsuit being brought by Breanna's biological father. It takes aim at Leavitt's bravado and posturing, in addition to the chronically inept DCFS. Ricky Sanders filed the suit in May against the infant's mother and step-father, Bobbie and Travis Widdison; the Attorney General; the State Department of Human Services which oversees DCFS; and Breanna's case worker, Pamela Goodrich.

The suit seeks $5 million from the state and contends that DCFS workers knew that the baby was suffering from abuse and neglect at the hands of her mother and stepfather.

On January 12, 1996, Sanders and his mother, Maradeen Sanders, warned DCFS that Breanna was at risk after taking her to the emergency room with a severe nose condition, constant diarrhea, a blistered diaper rash and bruises on her face. However, DCFS caseworker Pamela Goodrich identified as unfounded their complaints of neglect and abuse.

One month later, Breanna was again taken to the emergency room. The doctor diagnosed a broken clavicle, an untreated ear infection, numerous bruises and lacerations at different stages of healing. But again Goodrich released the baby to her mother. Then, following two days of regular visits, Bobbie Widdison refused to let the caseworker inside to see Breanna. The baby was dead within a week.

Charges of first-degree murder and multiple counts of second-degree felony child abuse were brought against Bobbie and Travis Widdison.

Rob Parrish, prosecuting attorney from the Utah Attorney General's office, prosecuted the case through its two weeks of trial. He contends that DCFS could have prevented Breanna's death.

On May 15, 1998, after seven hours of deliberation, a jury returned guilty verdicts against the pair for murder. Bonnie also was found guilty on six counts of child abuse and sentenced to 1- to 15-years in prison; Travis also was found guilty on three counts of child abuse and sentenced to 0- to 5-years in prison.

Among the stacks of fatality reviews requested by City Weekly from the Department of Human Services Fatality Review Board, was a copy of Breanna's fatality review. In addition, City Weekly obtained through an anonymous source a "protected," or non-public copy of the Fatality Review Board finding.

The protected copy goes further in describing injuries from the torture and neglect suffered by Breanna during the nine horrifying months of her life. But both documents maintain that she suffered tremendously: "Although Breanna died of pneumonia, prosecutors contend that the abuse inflicted on Breanna compromised her immune system and prevented her from surviving the pneumonia." The protected copy goes further: "In addition, there is some evidence that Breanna may have died of inflicted suffocation."

The protected finding also differs in the description of drugs being used by Bobbie Widdison. The public information copy sent by the DHS briefly describes Bobbie Widdison as having "tested positive for drugs which was only partially explained by the use of prescription drugs." But the protected copy states that Widdison "...tested positive for opiates and benzodiazepine. The positive opiate result was explained by (her) use of the pain killer Lortab, but there was no explanation for the positive result for benzodiazepines." In spite of possible drug abuse by the mother, the protected document confirms that the decision was made to release the child to her mother.

Both copies fault Goodrich for not involving police. But the protected copy goes further, painting a picture of a veteran caseworker who clearly knows little about recognizing abuse, is unaware of correct procedure and lacks proper training. For instance, one of the findings sets up a discussion for why the caseworker "did not feel empowered or have sufficient knowledge" about removing the child even though she was "highly concerned." Another finding explains that the caseworker "incorrectly believed that court involvement was required before she could insist on seeing Breanna or remove her from the home."

"It was a preventable death," Parrish says. "There was clear child abuse but they didn't see it until it was too late and that was due to inadequate training, improper procedures and confusion."

The confusion is described in the protected copy's findings section discussing the caseworker and assistant attorney general David Tibbs' failure to communicate to one another about who should make the determination to remove Breanna. Tibbs apparently thought it was Goodrich's decision. She thought it was his.

The protected document notes that members of the committee are concerned that many DCFS caseworkers feel they're being "second guessed and feel paralyzed and are willing to abdicate decision-making responsibility to others."

Efforts to contact Goodrich were unsuccessful. But City Weekly has obtained her letter of resignation to Gov. Leavitt, as well as a copy of the response from Robin Arnold-Williams, director of the Department of Human Services.

In her March 5, 1997 letter, she acknowledges her "...very deepest sorrow that I have ever known" in addressing the Breanna Loveless abuse case. She notes that when the fatality review was completed, she and her supervisor made written comments to ensure that their unit would be well trained on child protection service issues in the future.

Goodrich suggests the importance of reviewing the lawsuit settlement regularly and reiterates the importance of providing proper training. She writes that when her supervisor was "changed" the review of the settlement and training became, "...so haphazard these promises were not fulfilled." Goodrich goes on to inform the governor that when she confronted the new administration she was, "...reprimanded for being a burned-out social worker, etc."

But the letter Goodrich received back, not from the governor, but from Arnold-Williams, refuses to admit any deficiencies in the department. She apparently admonishes Goodrich, "...it is important that all division employees perform their duties in a professional manner."

The letter, dated May 16, 1997, goes on to inform Goodrich of the department's commitment to "...ensuring that all employees receive needed training in order to be competent," including a "Walk Through the System" training provided once a month for new and more experienced workers.

Arnold-Williams makes no reference to Goodrich's 10 years as a caseworker, nor does she offer condolence concerning Goodrich's resignation or the death of Breanna Loveless.

In the last line of her letter to the governor, Goodrich writes, "It would be very wrong if that child's death did not serve as a lesson to our agency in ensuring that caseworkers are well trained."

But according to Parrish and the increasing stacks of fatality reviews, lessons aren't being learned from Breanna's death or the deaths of children who have died since. For the Department of Human Services and DCFS, it's business as usual.

---

Assistant A.G.:
Agency Can't and Won't Change

Prosecutor Rob Parrish, a veteran of the Utah Attorney General's office since 1980, now works under Jan Graham's administration without the assistance of a secretary or paralegal.

Parrish says he's been using an intern at the University of Utah Law School for extra help. "That included the work I did on the case against the Widdisons for the death of Breanna Loveless."

With what appears to him as a clear message that he's barely tolerated. Parrish isn't worried that he's got much to lose by saying what he thinks. "In spite of the (federal court) settlement agreement, the attitude of DCFS hasn't changed and neither has the governor's or he wouldn't have hired Ken Patterson to head DCFS."

Patterson left Nevada's system with controversy hanging over him after being characterized as a hatchet man who doesn't care about children. Though Patterson chalks up his Nevada detractors to being "disgruntled citizens," the criticisms come from several child advocates as well as two-term governor who now is the executive editor of the Las Vegas Sun, Mike O'Callahan.

Patterson came to Utah with a salary increase from $76,000 to $79,000 per year to replace embattled former director Mary Noonan. Leavitt hailed Patterson as a national leader whose recruitment to Utah was, "nothing short of a coup."

Parrish says he has a fundamental disagreement with Patterson's philosophy. "At the very first meeting we had, he said that his plan was to 'minimize cases,'" Parrish recalled. "Not addressing problems doesn't change or eliminate the problems out there. It's scary. Who's to say what's serious and what's not when sometimes you only get that one chance to save a child's life?"

A member of the panel that monitors DCFS, Pam Rasmussen, has seen Patterson's philosophy in action. "They've been trying to make it look like there are fewer cases by not accepting referrals, even though referrals are coming from police, doctors and school officials," she says.

Beyond prosecuting child abuse cases, Parrish trains other prosecutors in the field throughout the country and is a nationally recognized child advocate. Most recently, he was one of 15 people named to the President's Honor Roll of the Society on the Abuse of Children.

From his seat on the DHS Fatality Review Board, Parrish directs criticisms at DCFS. The board was established to review cases of children's deaths and make recommendations to the DCFS and the Department of Human Services. "I've been pretty disappointed with response from DCFS," he says. "We've tried to make recommendations and they shut down and say they're not interested. But what bothers me the most is the lack of training to identify abuse and still putting those caseworkers out in the field."

Lack of caseworker training was the reason Breanna Loveless was not removed from the abusive environment that led to her death. Her caseworker's wish that the baby's death serve as a lesson to the agency continues to fall on deaf ears.

Parrish says that Graham has kept him out of just about everything that has to do with the child protection division. "They deprived me of anything to do with child protection as far as policy or administration and put me in a subordinate position."

After the Widdison trial, Parrish says he was mystified by the Salt Lake Tribune article that called it a watershed for Jan Graham. "I couldn't believe some of those quotes they got. The May 17 article reports Graham talking about the A.G.'s Office, as a whole, reviewing the case, how they were sick at heart and how she will never forget it as long as she lives. Jan is completely removed from what goes on in this office," Parrish says.

Graham describes her involvement in the Breanna Loveless case as being as involved as she could, considering it was one of many. "The way it works is I'm informed by way of channels and we visit about cases weekly."

But as Parrish sees it, that way doesn't work. "If Reed (Richards, Chief Deputy) and Carol (Clawson, Solicitor General) don't know, then Jan's information is just that good. They're filters and that's my problem. Jan is not involved."

Graham claims she's spent a lot of personal time trying to talk with Parrish and see that he's happy. "I always think it's resolved and then I find it's not."

But Parrish says he and Graham have only talked a total of three times in the five years she's been in office. "I've sent her memos about my concerns and she never responded. I didn't even know if she got them," he says. "Then I sent her a letter and all I got from that was a message left on my answering machine."

To describe Parrish as unhappy is an understatement. "They've put me out to pasture because I won't play politics, they don't like it that I'm nationally recognized for what I do and they don't like it that I don't play politics," he says. "The prosecuting attorneys here do some bizarre things to keep from doing any work, filing approximately five percent of cases screened. The attitude is that, 'If we don't file any cases we won't offend anyone.'"

Graham defends her administration saying, "I stand by our record for convictions and prosecutions as compared to before." She and Richards also defend the other prosecutors, who they say are loaded with cases and blast Parrish for his comparatively light load. "He only likes to work on one case at a time."

The perception is very different for Parrish. "Those prosecutors may have a load of cases but they're doing absolutely nothing," he laughs. "As for my load, it was made very clear to me that Reed was going to send me only the cases they wanted me to do. I'd be glad if they'd send me more."