DAYTONA BEACH -- After nearly doubling in four years, the number of calls to a state child-abuse hotline from inside Department of Juvenile Justice lock-down facilities declined statewide and in Volusia County over the past two years.

But abuse and neglect claims remain at high levels compared with the year before Gov. Jeb Bush took office and named former state Sen. Bill Bankhead, a retired railroad administrator, to run the state department under what they call a "tough love" approach.

Privately-run facilities accounted for a high number of the complaints. Hundreds of abuse and neglect reports were phoned in by children sentenced to high-volume facilities run by for-profit prison corporations.

Tragedies over the past year, including deaths at two detention centers and a spate of abuses at the state's largest girls institution, have caught the attention of state lawmakers. A special legislative committee recently convened hearings in Miami and Clearwater focusing on mistreatment of jailed children. Sessions to consider new laws aimed at reducing harsh treatment of juveniles are planned for Tallahassee but not yet scheduled.

Cassie Riley, mother of a youth punched and kicked by guards at Pinellas Regional Juvenile Detention Center in 2001, spoke at the Clearwater hearing but says she's skeptical that legislators will curb the abuses.

"It's all over the state of Florida," she said. "That's what astounds me. (Detention officials) have this attitude that it's not their job to rehabilitate your kids. They demoralize them. It's like, 'lock your kid up, let them be abused, lower their self-esteem more.' It's horrible."

However, Jason Zaborski, spokesman for the Florida Children's Campaign advocacy group, predicted legislators would introduce new laws next spring to make jailed children safer.

"When it gets the attention of a special legislative committee, it's serious," he said.

In Volusia County, the number of complaints to the Florida Abuse Hotline that involved jailed children fell by more than half, from 79 in the 2000-01 budget year to 35 in 2002-03, according to data provided by the Department of Children & Families and analyzed by The Daytona Beach News-Journal.

Substantiated claims -- in which investigators verified or found "some evidence" of abuse or neglect -- decreased from 16 in 2000-01 to five in 2002-03.

Chet Bell, assistant director for Stewart-Marchman, a nonprofit company that operates 79 beds in Daytona Beach, attributed the decrease at his facility to improved management of the program. The agency had 14 abuse complaints in 2000-01 and three last year.

Salary incentives for completion of training requirements, unannounced site visits by senior staff members, "zero tolerance" for physical and verbal abuse by staff members, and solicitation of children's opinions "without fear of recrimination" about their experiences with staff have all helped to improve conditions at the facility, Bell said.

More than 200 facilities throughout the state were represented in the data, including detention centers, long-term commitment programs, training schools and family group homes. The data only includes reports alleged to have occurred at Juvenile Justice facilities and excludes claims not judged serious enough to warrant further investigation, according to Susan Chase, a data analyst for the abuse hotline.

ABUSE REPORTS STILL HIGH

Statewide, abuse and neglect reports declined from 2,285 to 2,056 over the past three years, while the number of substantiated claims declined from 488 to 330.

That decline followed sharp increases since 1997-98, the year before Gov. Jeb Bush took office, when children phoned in 1,237 complaints. Substantiated complaints increased from 271 in 1997-98 to 488 in 2000-01.

Bush's "tough love" approach made protecting citizens the top priority of the state's fight against juvenile crime. In 2000, the governor added 1,096 beds and lengthened sentences despite a three-year decline in juvenile crime.

In three of his first five years in office, Bush sought to boost spending on jail beds and cut funding for early intervention and prevention programs. Each time, legislators overruled Bush and replaced money for the "front-end" programs.

A centerpiece of the "tough love" approach was the 2000 opening of the Florida Institute for Girls, a 100-bed Palm Beach County facility run by Premier Behavioral Services, formerly called Ramsay Youth Services, built to house the most troubled and dangerous female offenders.

In 2002-03, girls at the institute called in 119 abuse and neglect complaints, most among all facilities last year. DCF investigators substantiated 17 of those reports. In 2001-02, girls at the facility phoned in just 14 complaints. Six were substantiated.

In July, Bankhead suspended admissions to the facility after two girls suffered broken arms while being restrained by staff members.

Since the facility's 2000 opening, more than 15 workers have been disciplined for violating policies intended to prevent sexual abuse and exploitation of residents.

A Palm Beach County grand jury is investigating abusive conditions at the institute.

Policy changes over the summer helped stem many of the problems, said Premier spokeswoman Isa Diaz. They include replacement of the program manager, a policy shift away from punishment-oriented behavioral management, and the addition of a full-time human resources worker to investigate employment backgrounds of new hires, who may be paid as low as $8.50 an hour.

"We're not denying there were some issues there," Diaz said. "I think the changes were needed and required to bring the facility forward."

For-profit companies ran 17 of 25 facilities generating the most complaints in 2002-03. The Coral Gables-based Premier operates six of those 17 for-profit companies.

Since 1998, the company has won 11 contracts to run juvenile jails. Over the same period, the company and its officers donated $48,250 to the Republican Party of Florida and various legislative candidates -- 43 Republicans and five Democrats.

Diaz said those candidates shared the company's commitment to helping children. Juvenile Justice spokeswoman Catherine Arnold said all 11 contracts resulted from competitive bidding.

HIGH-VOLUME LOCKDOWN

Florida Children's Campaign spokesman Zaborski blamed the high number of complaints from for-profit facilities on Juvenile Justice's decision to house offenders in large facilities rather than smaller, community-based programs.

"When (the department) puts out a contract for this type of capacity, the only ones who will bid are the for-profits, because they're the only ones who can handle it," Zaborski said.

Financial savings from confining children in large facilities, he said, are often wiped out later by the costs of prosecuting repeat offenders, fighting lawsuits stemming from staff abuses, and constantly training new staff.

As the state takes money once devoted to prevention programs and uses it to operate jails, judges and prosecutors often have little choice but to jail children for minor offenses such as shoplifting, truancy and probation violations alongside offenders confined for severe, violent crimes, Zaborski said.

Employees of the juvenile jails -- often young, low-paid and untrained in rehabilitation -- too often fall back on a "corrections approach" that increases, rather than eases, the tensions that landed young lawbreakers in trouble in the first place, he said.

Keeping good staff members is a constant struggle for the programs, Zaborski noted. Employee turnover rates average 55 percent a year at large-capacity facilities, he said, while the amount of money the state pays private providers has remained stagnant for a decade, he said.

Cathy Corry, a Pinellas County advocate for jailed children, expressed cautious optimism when told of the decline in abuse and neglect reports.

"It could be that the state turned the heat on and these facilities shaped up," she said. "But I've heard so many stories about kids being threatened if they call the abuse hotline. The intimidation ranges from kids being told, 'you're not a man if you call,' to more intense threats: 'Call, and this is going to happen to you.' "

According to Arnold, the Juvenile Justice department enacted several policies that have helped reduce the number of abuses. Strict rules spell out how and when force can be used against juveniles. Additional training has been required for detention and commitment staff. Contracted facilities undergo monthly reviews by department officials.

PROBLEMS CONTINUE

Despite the decline in the number of abuse and neglect reports, 2003 has been a troubled year for the department.

On June 9, Omar Paisley died of a ruptured appendix at the Miami-Dade Regional Juvenile Detention Center after begging guards for three days to call a doctor, the Miami Herald reported.

An investigation began into the death of a teenager in Pinellas County's juvenile detention center after a fight with another teen focused on why the two boys' cell doors were left unlocked by guards -- after other inmates yelled for guards to unlock the doors.

In March, two guards were charged with the ritual beating of a teenage girl at the Florida Youth Academy in Largo after the child's grandmother discovered bruises on her arms and legs. Police investigating the case said guards traditionally beat kids who are about to be released.

Problems locally surfaced in October 2001, when a 13-year-old boy with a history of mental problems and suicide threats killed himself at the Volusia County Regional Juvenile Detention Center. The boy's mother is suing the department and several local employees, claiming the boy didn't receive proper supervision or mental health care.

ron.hurtibise@news-jrnl.com