|
![]() |
MURDERED BY TEXAS
CHARLES BILLOPS
INMATE'S DEATH: 'TERRIBLY WRONG' OR 'VERY UNUSUAL'?
11:33 PM CST on Friday, November 17, 2006
Charles Billops Jr. was not perfect. He'd been on probation for car
theft as a juvenile. Then he went to prison at age 17 for stealing a
PlayStation and some DVDs from a house.
But the Cedar Hill teen was supposed to be released after two years
in Texas' Youthful Offender Program – an older and hopefully wiser,
young man. Instead, he died after three months, a thin and incoherent
teenager, suffering from an undiagnosed brain abscess due to a sinus
infection.
A little over a week ago the state of Texas, without admitting
wrongdoing, paid the Billops family $250,000 to settle a lawsuit
alleging "deliberate indifference" by University of Texas Medical
Branch personnel – the prison health care provider.
Complaints about health from inmates are common; prisoners have
plenty of time to think about their aches and pains, and a trip to
the medical department can break the monotony of prison life or allow
access to air conditioning on a hot day.
But the teen's death in 2003 was "outrageous," said attorney Steve
DeWolf, who represented the inmate's father, Charles Billops Sr.
Charles Jr. lost 52 pounds in less than 100 days in prison – but
never saw a doctor.
"They knew there was something terribly, terribly wrong," Mr. DeWolf
said. "There is no doubt in my mind – they just didn't care."
State officials issued cursory statements but declined to talk about
the case for this story. In court filings officials insisted Mr.
Billops received adequate care.
"As tragic as this case is – and it is tragic – Billops did not die
because defendants ignored, were inattentive to, or didn't try to
save Billops," Assistant Attorney General Kim Coogan wrote. "He died
because he had a very unusual, difficult to diagnose brain abscess."
The tragedy of his death is the one aspect both sides agree on.
"This is one that I hope I never see again," said Mr. DeWolf.
Growing up in a middle class neighborhood, Charles Jr. appeared to be
a normal, well-adjusted kidAfter his mother died unexpectedly when he
was 13, Charles Jr. "began to associate with the wrong crowd" court
papers say.
Charles Sr. declined to talk, saying he was too angry. But his court
deposition shows the military veteran tried to give his son stability.
He dropped him at school each morning with an "I love you." And
picked him up every afternoon.
When Charles Sr. worked the night shift, first at a detention center
and later at a distribution center, Charles Jr. spent the night with
his grandmother.
Early warning signs appeared when he got into trouble for fighting at
school and was caught with marijuana. He finally dropped out after
10th grade.
Charles Jr.'s trouble became serious when he was arrested for
stealing a car. He got probation. In 2002, however, he was prosecuted
for burglary.
The teen was offered six to nine months' probation in a lockdown drug
treatment program, plus an aftercare program, or two years in prison,
where he would be eligible for parole in six months, according to his
public defender, Susan Anderson.
Like many, he chose prison , probably hoping to get out sooner.
Mr. Billops said his son told him, "I made some bad choices. I'm
going to go down there and do these two years. Get my GED, and I'm
going to do better."
Special program
At the Texas Department of Criminal Justice, Charles Jr. was assigned
to the Youthful Offender Program, designed to treat and educate
inmates ages 14 to 19 while protecting them from older, more hardened
convicts.
He entered the Clemens unit in Brazoria on Jan. 21, 2003, 6 feet 3
inches tall, 190 pounds. Though he had been diagnosed as bipolar
while in the Dallas County Jail, records showed he had no major
health problems.
Five weeks later, he complained of a sore throat and runny nose and a
registered nurse recommended an over-the counter antihistamine.
A month later, Charles Jr. was still suffering from the same symptoms
and had dropped 18 pounds. A nurse recommended he continue with the
over-the-counter medication but made no further referrals.
On April 7, Charles Jr. again complained of a headache and a bloody
nasal discharge. A physician's assistant ordered more over the
counter medication.
Over the next few weeks, Charles Jr. complained of a variety of
symptoms, including a toothache, stuffy nose, earache and bloody
saliva. His weight dropped to 160 pounds. Antibiotics and eardrops
were prescribed by a physician's assistant who never saw him.
Charles Jr. sometimes got the proper medication for his ongoing sinus
problems, sometimes he didn't; sometimes he refused it.
In mid-April, Charles Jr. hit another inmate in a dispute over
chocolate cake. His punishment was solitary confinement.
His evaluation before entering administrative segregation showed his
weight was 166 but no medical problems were noted.
In segregation his condition worsened. Prison guards grew concerned.
When Charles Jr. fell to his knees in the shower on April 25th and
couldn't get up, officers took him to the infirmary.
Correctional officers "were doing their job," Mr. DeWolf said. "They
were calling the alarms out: 'There's a problem with this guy.' And
the medical system turned a blind eye."
An EKG was given. Charles Jr., who now weighed an almost skeletal 149
pounds, told staffers he hadn't eaten in six days.
Instead of being referred to a doctor, he was sent to the mental
health department where a psychologist reported he was angry at being
put in administrative segregation and that the food was bad. He was
sent back to the medical department.
There, staff determined he was not on a hunger strike and returned
him to his cell.
Over the next three days nurses checked on Charles Jr. when making
rounds of solitary confinement but "did not notice any remarkable
activity" according to an agency summary.
Worried father
Back home in Cedar Hill, Charles Sr. was worried. Letters from
Charles Jr., which had been frequent at first, had stopped.
On April 29, he called administrators at the Youthful Offender
Program. An administrator who visited Charles Jr. later that day and
encouraged him to eat.
He was down to 138 pounds. A guard also was worried by his appearance
and incoherent speech, so Charles Jr. was taken by stretcher to the
infimary.
This time a registered nurse consulted with a physician's assistant
who ordered lab work for the next day and sent Charles Jr. back to
his cell. Later that afternoon, at the urging of guards and a
psychologist, Charles Jr. returned to the medical department, but
after promising to eat was sent back to his cell again.
The next day the program director and a guard went to the warden,who
visited Charles Jr.'s cell and encouraged him to go to the medical
department for lab work.
By then Charles Jr. was too weak to hold his head up, so a team of
guards shackled him , and lifted him into a wheelchair.
In the infirmary, blood was drawn and an EKG was given. He was also
given yet another psychological evaluation.
Finally, a physician's assistant ordered he be taken to the prison
hospital in Galveston, where he was treated for dehydration. After he
was examined by a doctor, he was discharged to a psychiatric prison
unit.
When officers arrived to take him to the prison unit four hours
later, "Offender Billops appeared to be asleep," a TDCJ report says.
An officer lifted his hand "and noticed that it did not fall back as
he let it go."
The 17-year-old was dead; he had been unattended so long, "he was
rigid," said attorney DeWolf.
State officials won't say much about the Billops case.
"This settlement reflects a fair approach to an exceedingly complex
case in which UTMB's medical staff exercised the utmost
professionalism," attorney general spokesman Tom Kelley said in an e-
mail.
In court filings, Assistant Attorney General Coogan wrote that
Charles Jr. suffered from a condition so rare that many physician
specialists "will never encounter it" and it was unfair to expect
prison medical personnel to make such a diagnosis.
His weight loss, weakness and lethargy, she wrote, are "more likely
to be symptoms of depression, anti-social behavior, a dislike for the
food or all of the above."
Court filings also included a deposition by an expert who concluded
Charles Jr. was treated in an "appropriate manner."
UTMB officials declined to discuss the case.
"It is our sincere hope that this case has been resolved
satisfactorily," said Dr. Ben Raimer, UTMB vice president for
community outreach and correctional managed care. "We are dedicated
to continually improving the delivery of care."
Mr. DeWolf is not optimistic that what happened to Charles Jr. won't
happen again.
"His death, because of our legal constraints, will not make a
difference," he said.
"I don't think that UTMB, a multimillion-dollar company, is going to
change their evil ways...unless they are sent a message," Mr. DeWolf
said. but by law such incidents are limited to $300,000 in damagees.
Mr. Billops Sr. is glad the case is over, but wondered "is this all
my son is worth?" Mr. DeWolf said.
E-mail djennings@dallasnews.com
COMPLAINTS ON INMATE CARE
The University of Texas Medical Branch at Galveston has been the
target of other complaints. In 2004, a lawsuit was filed on behalf of
three former inmates against Dallas County for inadequate medical
care while UTMB was the health care provider at the county jail.
• One allegedly did not receive his medication for two months, and
the water in his cell was turned off for two weeks, causing his
health to decline.
• Another died in jail allegedly because of mistreatment.
• Another was released allegedly without medication or follow-up.
Dallas County responded by suing UTMB to include them in any damages.
That suit was dismissed in September, but Dallas County is appealing
the ruling. UTMB chose not to renew its contract with the county when
it expired. Parkland Hospital now provides medical care for the
Dallas County Jail.
![]()
FACTOR 8: THE ARKANSAS PRISON BLOOD SCANDAL
Kelly Duda and Concrete Films have produced a documentary which details the corruption and greed that led the Arkansas Department of Correction to spread death from Arkansas prisons to the entire world. Hear the story from the mouths of those responsible for the harvesting of infected human blood plasma, and its sale to be made into medicines.
Duda's award-winning film unflinchingly documents the whole story the U.S. government and the state of Arkansas have tried to keep hidden from the world.
Click the photo of Kelly Duda at work to order your own copy of
Click the photo of Kelly Duda at work to visit the
Please help spread the word about this important film, ![]()
|