Report Finds 162 Boston Priests Accused Since '50
Michael Paulson, Boston Globe- 2/27/2004
The Archdiocese of Boston yesterday said that 7 percent of its priests were accused of abusing minors from 1950 to 2003, a figure that appears to be substantially higher than the percentage in many other dioceses around the nation. After more than two years of disclosures in newspaper articles, court documents, and a sweeping report by the state attorney general, the archdiocese for the firsttime offered its own report on the scope of abuse by priests in the 144 cities and towns that make up the archdiocese.
     The archdiocese said that 162, or 7 percent, of 2,324 archdiocesan priests were accused of abusing 815 minors during the 53-year period examined. An additional 57 priests and deacons, most of them priests affiliated with a religious order, but some ordained by other dioceses and stationed in Boston, were accused of abusing 150 minors in the archdiocese during that same period. "We've been aware that the numbers were high here ever since the attorney general's report . . . but it's still alarming and sad to see that they are so high," Archbishop Sean P. O'Malley said in an interview. "One case of child abuse is a tragedy, but certainly these kinds of figures are very disturbing." The archdiocese also disclosed that it had spent $120.6 million through December 2003 settling abuse cases. O'Malley believes that most settlement costs are now complete, but said the archdiocese is still paying for a variety of abuse-related costs, including therapy for more than 400 people.
     O'Malley said he hopes the church has now taken steps to prevent future abuse. He said he believes the screening, training, and supervision of seminarians have improved, that 6,000 church employees and volunteers have gone through criminal background checks and abuse-detection training, and that the church has a better understanding of how to spot and respond to abuse allegations. "I do want to reassure Catholics that the archdiocese is trying to do everything we can so that this tragedy does not ever happen again," he said.
     The vast majority of allegations involved abuse that took place before 1982, the archdiocese said in its report, though most of the abuse wasn't reported until after January 2002, when the Globe began publishing a Spotlight series on the church's handling of abusive priests. The archdiocese said only eight priests ordained since 1980 have been accused of abuse; more of the allegedly abusive priests were ordained in the 1960s than in any other decade.
     The archdiocese chose to release the numbers yesterday, in anticipation of today's release of two nationwide studies examining the scope, nature, and causes of sexual abuse of minors by Catholic clergy since 1950. The studies, which are being overseen by a National Review Board of laypeople chosen by the US Conference of Catholic Bishops, showed that about 4 percent of the nation's Catholic priests were accused of abuse during the period studied.
     The Diocese of Yakima, Wash., said the national study found that 4,392 of the 109,694 clergy faced allegations of abuse, the Associated Press reported. Since 1950, dioceses nationwide received 10,667 abuse claims; of those, 6,700 were substantiated. Another 3,300 were not investigated, because the accused were dead, and 1,000 claims proved to be unsubstantiated, the diocese said. The national report also tallied abuse-related costs at $533.4 million.
     O'Malley said he did not know why the percentage of allegedly abusive priests was higher in Boston than in other places, a question that is likely to concern researchers for some time. "This percentage is much higher than . . . expected," said Stephen J. Pope, a theology professor at Boston College. "Some commentators have tried to contextualize the incidents of clerical sexual abuse by asserting that the abuse rate is lower than that of the general population, but this report shows this claim to be false, at least for Boston."
     The archdiocese said seven priests accounted for more than half of the 815 abuse allegations against archdiocesan priests. They declined to name those seven priests, but the most prominent alleged serial abusers were the Revs. John J. Geoghan, Paul R. Shanley, and Joseph E. Birmingham.
The Rev. Joseph M. Hennessey, pastor of St. Joseph Church in Kingston, said he believes that well-intentioned church values, "when taken to an extreme, may have contributed to the generally poor handling of abuse complaints." "These values are confidentiality, protection of reputation, avoidance of giving unnecessary scandal, presumption of innocence until guilt proven, due process," he said. "When taken together, and taken to an extreme, and out of context from the horror of the content of the accusations, they resulted in what seems to the outsider a climate of protection."
     The Boston numbers were received with a mix of reactions around the region. Attorney General Thomas F. Reilly said the number of victims in the archdiocesan report seems low to him, but that "I don't think we'll ever know the full extent of victims, because of the reluctance of people to come forward. The numbers have to be higher." In July, he released a report on abuse in the archdiocese, saying that over six decades, at least 237 priests and 13 other church employees were accused of molesting at least 789 minors and that the actual number of victims probably exceeded 1,000. His study looked at 10 more years than the archdiocese. "This report confirms what we said, and it confirms the magnitude of this problem," he said. "This problem is bigger than this archdiocese. Tomorrow's report in Washington will show that what we're talking about here is more than 4,000 criminals, most of whom, like here in Boston, escaped prosecution of the coverup by the church leadership."
     Victim advocates were skeptical of the numbers, because, they said, they do not trust bishops to be truthful. "It's suspect, as all self-reporting is; it's severe underreporting," said Anne Barrett Doyle, a cofounder of the Coalition of Catholics and Survivors. Doyle said she believes the report understates the number of victims and abusers. She wondered whether the archdiocesan files on which the report is based are complete. She said victims will ask Governor Mitt Romney Sunday to scrutinize the state's four Catholic dioceses. She said victims' groups want the dioceses to release a complete list of names of abusive priests, saying that "Archbishop O'Malley and the other bishops are sitting on the longest list of unregistered sex offenders in Massachusetts." "They need to step forward and make sure children aren't being harmed," she said.
     Roderick MacLeish Jr., a lawyer who has represented victims, said the archdiocese's figures on victims numbers were "ridiculously low," while Mitchell Garabedian, another prominent victims' lawyer, called the numbers "an insult to victims." "We had two major settlements in the last two years, exceeding 650 victims, so their victim total makes no sense," he said. "You're talking about an institution that allowed the wholesale sexual abuse of children by priests. Why would anyone think they would produce credible numbers?" MacLeish called on the archdiocese to release the names of all accused priests, as Baltimore and Los Angeles have done, saying that many victims have not yet come forward and suggesting that the release of names would spur those victims to do so.
     An archdiocesan spokesman, the Rev. Christopher J. Coyne, said the archdiocese strictly followed the guidelines set out by the John Jay College of Criminal Justice, which conducted the national study, in determining how to count allegations. He said every allegation was reported. The allegations ranged from a kiss or a touch to rape. He said every allegation, substantiated or not, received by the archdiocese was included in the report. Coyne said that, unlike some other dioceses, Boston decided not to report what percentage of allegations it deemed credible, because "we don't have a handle on that right now."
     About two dozen priests who have been suspended have not yet been fully evaluated by the church. The report also indicates that 58 of the 162 accused archdiocesan priests are dead, and dioceses have generally not investigated accusations against deceased priests. The Rev. Robert W. Bullock, the president of the Boston Priests Forum, called the numbers "staggering" and said "it's a higher percentage than I thought." But he said priests have confidence in O'Malley's management of the clergy sex abuse crisis. James E. Post, the president of Voice of the Faithful, a lay organization, said, "This is the bitter harvest that we have reaped from a clerical culture that was dominant in Boston throughout this era. Looking at this, I believe any reasonable person would say that culture is dysfunctional, and has to change."

Door Opens for Chicago Mentally Ill
Meg McSherry Breslin, Chicago Tribune- 2/27/2004

Hunched over table 13 in the cafeteria of his nursing home, the freckle-faced 33-year-old seemed out of place amid the gray-haired folks heading to the meal line. And for the three years he lived there, he definitely felt out of place too. "When I first came here, it made me depressed. It set me back a little bit," Mike Kelly said inside Briar Place Nursing Home in west suburban Indian Head Park. "I just felt there's something wrong with the picture." Kelly has a mental illness, and like many young adults struggling with mental health in Illinois, he had nowhere else to go. A national movement begun in the 1970s to move the mentally ill out of institutions has left thousands of families with nursing homes as their only option. For some, that's about to change.
      In January, Kelly moved from Briar Place to a creatively financed group home in Naperville formed because of a new state law. The refurbished colonial on a quiet cul-de-sac was the result of a four-year struggle by parents of mentally ill adults in DuPage County to establish a permanent home for their children. Art Dykstra, president of Trinity Services of Lockport, one of the state's largest group home providers, was one of the first social service leaders to endorse the DuPage idea. "If we can demonstrate that people can be integrated and live next door to us with the proper supervision, this will change how mentally ill people are thought about," he said. For the parents, countless meetings with lawyers, housing officials and state lawmakers have finally paid off. "This is it," said Barbara McGoldrick, who led the effort on behalf of her 41-year-old son, Stephan, who moved in with Kelly this month. "I know he's going to be taken care of for the rest of his life."
      Under the law, the state's definition of an acceptable group home has expanded to include one set up with the assistance of a special needs trust. It allows a family to use the trust to buy a permanent home for their mentally ill child that would then be shared by at least three others with mental illness. Most group homes for the disabled are run by local health departments or social service providers with limited resources, leaving many families waiting years, if ever, for an opening. With the law, families of mentally ill adults are paving new ground, pooling their resources with state, federal and local funds.
      McGoldrick handled the down payment and held garden walk fundraisers to pay for furnishings. The three other residents did not contribute to the purchase, but portions of their monthly Social Security disability income will go toward ongoing expenses. Aside from the special needs trust, the group home operates like many others in the state. McGoldrick worked with the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development and the DuPage County Housing Authority to secure housing vouchers for monthly rent, and Trinity Services will handle daily operations, providing therapists and house staff.
      The model allows parents to avoid a heated debate about homes for the mentally ill in residential areas because it is a private purchase. In many cases, homeowners have fought group homes for the mentally ill, arguing they hurt property values or threaten the safety of neighbors. Kelly's Naperville home is the first to open under the concept. A second home for DuPage County women is expected this spring.
      Legislators and mental health advocates say the law is a small step toward correcting a daunting state problem. An estimated 12,000 mentally ill people of all ages are housed in nursing homes in Illinois, and thousands of them could be better served in less restrictive settings, said Mark Heyrman, a clinical law professor at the University of Chicago.
      Frank Anselmo, chief executive officer of the Community Behavioral Healthcare Association of Illinois, said housing for the mentally ill has been neglected for decades. "Illinois has never done well in this area," Anselmo said. "This problem is left over from the de-institutionalization movement, when the state discharged all these people from mental institutions yet put very little money into the community to help them."
      Under a 1999 Supreme Court decision known as the Olmstead case, Illinois and other states are required to give mentally ill residents a full range of housing options. To the extent possible, residents are supposed to be integrated into their communities. But advocates say the state has done little to comply. Currently, Illinois ranks 30th among states in per-capita funding for mental health services, according to the Mental Health Association of Illinois. State residents with mental illness need more than 44,000 housing units, yet there are fewer than 4,000 available, said Jan Holcomb, the association's chief executive officer.
      State Rep. Patti Bellock (R-Westmont), who sponsored the group home legislation, said the new model frees up state resources. She said many of the eligible residents in nursing homes cost the state roughly $40,000 per year, compared with $20,000 in the group home. Still, some cautioned that the idea is limited to families with resources. "The problem is, what do you do for the individuals who don't have those family resources? It doesn't take care of the neediest and the sickest," Anselmo said.
    For Mike Kelly, moving into a group home from his sparse nursing home room was a "golden opportunity." On move-in day, he walked around the comfortable, four-bedroom house in awe. "It's going to be weird," he said with a smile, standing in his private bedroom on the second floor. "I've been sharing a room with two guys." Kelly had lived with his parents in the western suburbs intermittently after being diagnosed with obsessive compulsive disorder and anxiety in his second year in college. But as he aged, he and his parents agreed it was important to learn to live on his own. He had a hard time with the nursing home's strict rules. When he wasn't working a part-time job pushing carts at Target, he struggled with loneliness, uninterested in playing cards or bingo with elderly residents. "Just being at a nursing home for someone my age--it's hard," he said on one of his last days in Briar Place. "You just wish you could walk out without someone saying, `Where are you going? What are you doing?' I just like having my freedom." Now, Kelly is eager to make his new surroundings work. In one of his first nights at the house, he cooked his own meal for the first time. He offered a prayer to a small gathering at the dinner table. "I'm thankful for having a place to live," he said, his voice cracking with emotion, "and parents who've worked so hard for me to get to this."



Psychotherapist Uses Shamanic Trances
Rich Barlow, Boston Globe- 2/28/2004

Back in the 1980s, John Myerson had recurring dreams about a woman he'd never seen before. A psychiatrist who was a student of shamanism -- mediating between this world and spirit worlds to help people with emotional and mental problems -- told him the woman existed. You're nuts, Myerson thought, but then the psychiatrist introduced him to the woman, with whom the psychiatrist studied shamanism. Now, in Myerson, she had a new student. In "Riding the Spirit Wind," which Myerson self-published through an imprint he founded called LifeArts Press, he describes his shamanic psychotherapy work in Framingham. His coauthor is Robert Greenebaum. Practicing an East African form, he believes that people have the equivalent of guardian angels that can be summoned when a patient enters a trancelike state induced by acupuncture or meditation and by listening to drumming.
Barlow- You describe yourself as a Buddhist. Where does the African influence come in?
Myerson- Shamanic work is not a religion. If you read Joseph Campbell, one of the foremost authorities on mythology, shamanism throughout the world is pretty much the same. However, different cultures put different spins on it, have different ways of doing things. In Peru, you would use psychotropic drugs -- peyote, in the southwest of America -- for beginners to learn how to go into these trance states. You have a lot of places -- Mongolia, Africa -- that do not use psychotropic plants. In Africa, they use drums to get to the same place. The other thing is it's ancestrally based. Most African practitioners think that the souls or spirits you meet were ancestors.
Barlow- How did you come to believe in the existence of the soul?
Myerson- Shamans are very practical people, and we only deal with things that work. Through my work, I started experiencing it. I started seeing things differently and feeling differently and having visions, and the stuff worked. People started getting better. I went to Harvard as an undergrad. We didn't usually talk about souls and spirits -- it depends on what you were taking that night. I'm a very skeptical, pragmatic person. And it's much more prevalent than you think. I was sitting at my son's football banquet a couple of months ago. One guy is telling me -- he has no idea what I do -- about visiting his mother's grave, and how he feels her presence when he visits. This guy has nothing to do with shamanism; he doesn't even go to church.
Barlow- Who can't you help? For example, atheists who say, "I don't believe in spirits, I don't believe in souls"?
Myerson- There always are patients people cannot do anything with. If one person could heal everybody, it would be pretty amazing. Shamanic work will work with people, whether they believe it or not. However, it's a whole lot easier if you participate. In any psychotherapy, if you don't want to change or grow or deal with whatever the issue is, then no one can help you.
Barlow- Buddhists like the Dalai Lama believe there are scientific reasons for the effectiveness of practices like meditation. Is there a scientific explanation for shamanism, for why you saw that woman in your dream, and why you achieve results with your patients?
Myerson- What I tell people is it's all about using energy. Everything in the world is made up of energy. That's what modern physics is all about. Chinese medicine is the study of energy. What the Dalai Lama's trying to study is what effect your mind can have on the physical body. Harvard associate professor of medicine Dr. Herbert Benson studies whether people who pray or have faith will have better results in healing. Somehow there's a power in your mind that you can tap into, what I call the universe -- some people call it God, some people call it the Great Spirit -- but something with your mind that you connect to that helps you to heal. Shamanic work is just another variation of that.
Barlow- A key point of your practice is a prayer that you give some clients. Can you share that prayer?
Myerson- I'm not going to. The words are sort of meaningless. What's important is the transmission of energy from me to you. I give people a prayer to connect them back to that power. I can help put you into an altered state by transmitting energy. Using the words I give you evokes that energy again for you later, when you do it yourself, because you associate it with the power that I gave you. I can change the words. It doesn't matter.

Police in Midwest Battling Meth 'Epidemic'
Stephanie Simon, Los Angeles Times- 2/28/2004

ST. LOUIS - In suburban mansions and in the Mark Twain National Forest, in cornfields and in cheap motels, Missouri detectives are busting an average of eight makeshift drug labs a day, all of them set up to manufacture the inexpensive, extremely addictive powder known as meth. In 2003, for the third year in a row, Missouri led the nation in the number of seizures of ingredients, equipment and hazardous waste related to the production of methamphetamine, the state reported Friday. Missouri recorded 2,857 raids of meth-related sites. By contrast, Iowa and California -- the states with the next-highest totals - each recorded about 1,240 busts last year, according to a report by the Drug Enforcement Administration.
      Most of Missouri's meth labs are small operations, cooking the drug for personal use, not wide distribution. Authorities say the number of seizures in the state is a testament to aggressive detective work. But it's also indicative of how ferociously methamphetamine has gripped rural America. "I'm surprised every day at how many people are using meth," said Jim Willis, the methamphetamine investigator for rural Texas County, in south-central Missouri. "It's a full-time job just to keep the junkies under control."
      The drug is especially popular in rural areas because it's cheap and easy to make using ingredients like anhydrous ammonia, a common crop fertilizer that cooks have taken to stealing by the tanker-truckload. Addicts have been known to set up their labs in farm fields, using the lush foliage of mature corn or soybeans as cover. By the time harvest rolls around, they've left the field strewn with garbage and, sometimes, toxic waste. Manufacturing the drug takes very little space but produces strong, caustic fumes. That's another reason it's popular in rural areas: Cooks can brew it at a forest campsite or in an abandoned barn, where there are few neighbors to notice and report the burning odors.
      Iowa, Kansas, Nebraska, Illinois and Indiana all report major meth problems in their sparsely populated farm belts. "Any county in the Midwest will have labs," said Sgt. Tommy Wright, a narcotics investigator for Jefferson County, Mo. Lately, however, authorities in Missouri have begun making busts in urban centers as well. A few weeks ago, law enforcement raided an enormous lab in the college town of Springfield, Mo. "Virtually every room of the house had meth cooking activity in it," said Capt. Ron Replogle of the Missouri Highway Patrol. Fifteen months ago, another lab was uncovered in a 5,400-square-foot suburban home on a golf course in Eureka, Mo. "It's pretty much spread statewide," Replogle said.
      Meth - also known as speed, ice or crank - is a stimulant that can keep users awake for days on end; it can be smoked, snorted, injected or even stirred into a cup of coffee. Addicts report a powerful high. Sheriff's deputies, though, see not euphoria but paranoia in many longtime meth users. "They're evasive, paranoid, combative. You can never predict what they're going to do," Wright said.
      To address what many in the state call a "meth epidemic," Missouri Atty. Gen. Jay Nixon has proposed moving inmates serving time for meth-related crimes to a central prison, where the state could test the effectiveness of various rehabilitation programs. He also wants to strengthen criminal penalties for meth cooks and dealers. Several states have already passed harsher laws. Illinois, for instance, no longer allows probation for repeat offenders. Michigan and Wisconsin have made it a felony to illegally dump meth waste. And North Dakota will prosecute anyone who possesses more than 24 grams of ingredients to be used to manufacture the drug.
      More than a dozen states have also expanded their child-abuse laws to allow prosecution of adults who manufacture meth near kids. Investigators talk about finding toxic chemicals dumped in bathtubs and explosive brews burbling near cribs. A report released in Iowa last year found that on a typical day, 35% of the child-abuse cases referred to state investigators involved methamphetamine. Several states have restricted sales of decongestants containing pseudoephedrine, a key meth ingredient. Hazleton, Iowa, pop. 950, even requires customers buying cold medication to present identification and sign a log.
      In Missouri, law-enforcement agencies have had some success training store clerks to call the police when they spot someone returning again and again to purchase Sudafed, road flares, lithium batteries, drain cleaners or other ingredients known to be used in the production of meth. But even with tougher criminal codes and better rehabilitation, authorities say the key to controlling the drug remains on-the-ground detective work to root out and destroy labs. That's why Nixon says he's not ashamed that Missouri again tops the charts in meth busts. "I'm very concerned that from a shallow political perspective, some people would say, 'Law enforcement should only work half as hard as last year' so our numbers would drop and people would write stories saying Missouri is winning the war on meth," Nixon said. "I obviously don't like to see 2,800 meth labs in Missouri. But we need to win this fight, not appear to win it."

MARLBORO, Mass. -- Federal regulators have given preliminary approval to a Massachusetts pharmaceutical company's new insomnia drug. The Food and Drug Administration's ``approvable'' letter means that Sepracor Inc. will not have to conduct additional clinical or preclinical trials for final approval of the drug Estorra.
     Officials for Marlboro-based Sepracor said on Saturday they will resubmit their new drug application to the FDA, and contingent upon its approval, hope to start marketing Estorra as early as the middle of this year. ``We are very excited to have received an approvable letter from the FDA for Estorra,'' said Dr. Mark H.N. Corrigan, executive vice president of research and development at Sepracor.
     Estorra is designed for the treatment of insomnia characterized by difficulty falling asleep, or difficulty maintaining sleep during the night and early morning for adult and elderly patients.
According to the National Institutes of Health Web site, insomnia affects more than 50 million Americans.

Lack of Funding Slows Treatment for Mentally Ill
Daniel Costello, Los Angeles Times- 2/29/2004

More than a year after its passage, a law intended to force severely mentally ill people into outpatient treatment has been stymied by a lack of funding and controversy over its implementation. When it passed, supporters of the hard-won measure, known as Laura's Law, promised it would help get hundreds and possibly thousands of mentally ill people at risk of harming themselves or others off the streets and into treatment programs. But under the law, counties must approve and fund the measure on their own, and many are far too short of cash to consider the idea.
      Several counties, including San Francisco and San Diego, recently decided against such programs, citing costs and discomfort over the possibility of infringing on the rights of mentally ill people. Late last month, Orange County began public hearings on the issue, but local mental health officials believe it doesn't have a strong chance of approval.
      So far, only Los Angeles County has acted, starting a pilot program early last year that can treat just 15 patients at a time. To save money, the program is enlisting only patients who already have been arrested and are in the mental health system because they have been deemed unfit for trial. Los Angeles mental health officials say they have yet to decide if they will extend the pilot project after it expires next year. "We're taking a close, wait-and-see approach," said Marvin Southard, director of Los Angeles County's Department of Mental Health.
      Laura's Law was named after 19-year-old Laura Wilcox, who was killed three years ago by a psychiatric patient while volunteering at a mental health clinic in Nevada City. The measure needs renewal by the state Legislature in four years and, without broader statewide participation, it could simply be phased out. Unless more counties participate, "we won't have any proof to show the Legislature how much we need this law and how well it can work," said Helen Thomson, a Yolo County supervisor and former psychiatric nurse who sponsored Laura's Law in the state Assembly before she retired from the Legislature in late 2002.
      Forced treatment has long been one of the most contentious debates in mental health. Some mental health and civil rights advocates insist that strong-arming people into treatment programs doesn't work and may in fact alienate patients. "This was a mistake from the beginning…. It's clear that a coercive model doesn't work," said Sally Zinman, director of the California Network of Mental Health Clients. Instead, Zinman and others suggest better funding for voluntary treatment and social service programs.
      But supporters of the law, including relatives of mentally ill people, say involuntary outpatient treatment is a necessary last-ditch tool to help patients get treatment they clearly need. Many family members say that their loved ones lack the insight to realize they are ill. For all the worry about patients' rights, they say, the reality is many untreated mentally ill people spend their lives on the margins of society, often cycling in and out of jails or hospitals. The federal government estimates that as many as half of mentally ill people don't get any treatment. A third are homeless.
      Linda Rigdon, of Laguna Hills, said she believes Laura's Law could give desperate families of mentally ill people a meaningful option. Rigdon's 35-year-old son, Todd, has been diagnosed as paranoid schizophrenic. Though he is taking medication now, a few years ago he walked around Laguna Hills with a claw hammer, and she feared he might use it against someone if he felt threatened. "I love him and just want him to be well. Families like mine know what we are talking about, and this law can help us," she said.
      More than 30 states around the country have some type of involuntary outpatient commitment law, but only about a dozen enforce them, experts say. New York passed such a law in 1999, and funding to go with it. The state has since treated more than 3,000 people. In California, only a small percentage of patients have been involuntarily committed to hospitals because of stiff legal requirements and limited space.
      The new law allows mental health officials to force patients to commit to a mix of outpatient services, including psychiatric care, group counseling and substance-abuse treatment. Someone who breaks the agreement can be forced back to court. No patient can be forced to take medication, however. Before patients can be required to enter the program, they must be shown to be a danger to themselves or others, or indicate they are unable to meet basic needs for food, clothing or shelter. A family member, doctor or parole office must petition the local mental health department to pursue a court order for treatment. "Sick people can't always make the right decisions on their own," said Linda Rigdon's son Todd, who said he has been well for two years now. "If this helps some people get back on track, I can't say it's a bad thing."