Cops, Prosecutors Look for Ways to Press Charges
By Scott Fornek, Staff Reporter
Originally published in the Chicago Sun-Times, December 16, 2001
The mother and father are in their 70s. Their only son is in his 30s and messed up on drugs and booze. He punches his parents, throws things at them and steals their money. Once, he hit them with a door.
''A son who beats his parents up consistently, at least every other month,'' is how Peoria County State's Attorney Kevin Lyons describes him.
But his parents won't press charges.
''They constantly call the police and yet, on occasion, post his bail,'' Lyons said. ''While I'm saying, 'Listen, he's going to come back and do it again,' they are saying, 'Listen to us. He's our only son.'"
It's an example of the No. 1 problem law enforcement faces in investigating and prosecuting elder abuse, according to a Chicago Sun-Times survey of prosecutors and police chiefs statewide. About two-thirds of Illinois' state's attorneys said their efforts are most often frustrated by victims unwilling, afraid or unable—because of Alzheimer's disease, dementia or other ailments—to help the authorities who are trying to end the abuse and punish the abusers. Little more than a quarter of police officials said they are able to get charges filed in most cases they handle.
''The elderly, in many cases, are chosen victims because they are ready-made victims,'' said Cmdr. Richard Ryan, head of the police patrol and emergency-response team in Downstate Decatur. ''They can't see well. They can't always remember well.''
Police and prosecutors need to be careful not to use such problems as an excuse not to pursue cases of elder abuse, said Donna Ginther, government relations liaison for Illinois AARP, formerly known as the American Association of Retired Persons.
''That was the excuse for years in domestic violence," said Ginther. "It was that the victim did not want to testify, or the victim would back out. Well, that should never be the reason for not doing everything we can for the victim.''
Cook County State's Attorney Richard Devine, who formed a special unit to handle elder abuse cases 2½ years ago, said prosecutors can "take some of the pressure off the victim" by building cases through other evidence—including other witnesses and statements from police. And prosecutors can preserve testimony from victims whose health or mind is failing by videotaping it, he said.
That's what happened with 79-year-old Josephine Weis, a North Side widow who gave a videotaped deposition in 1998 against Henry J. Thompson, 59, who had conned her out of $2,668 for unnecessary furnace repairs.
Thompson pleaded guilty to aggravated home-repair fraud Jan. 20, 2000—the day of Weis' funeral.
"We had the testimony," said Jacqueline Thursby, deputy supervisor of the consumer fraud division in Devine's office. "Otherwise, we would have lost our whole case…. He would never have pleaded guilty without this."
Victim Swallows Pride to Catch Scam Artist
By Scott Fornek, Staff Reporter
Originally published in the Chicago Sun-Times, December 16, 2001
Bernice Anderson was embarrassed when a furnace repairman cheated her out of more than $4,500 two years ago, charging her for a chimney that was never fixed, a living-room wall heater that blew cold air and $1,769 for something called ''carbon monoxide removal.''
''I felt terrible," said Anderson, a pseudonym. The 85-year-old Bridgeport widow asked that her real name not be used. "I thought to myself that I was like a damn fool that I fell for this."
The scam she fell for is one that commonly targets the elderly. And, like Anderson, the typical victim of elder abuse is a woman 75 or older who is widowed and living on her own, according to Illinois Department on Aging figures.
But Anderson did something many older people who get swindled don't: She swallowed her pride and reported the crime to police. She wishes others would do the same.
''They keep quiet, and those guys keep on doing it,'' said the retired parish secretary, whose husband died 10 years ago.
She figured she could trust the repairman who showed up at her two-flat in January 1999. He'd done work for a contractor who installed a heater for her and said he needed to check a valve. So began a month of ''repairs.'' The contractor kept finding things wrong—and insisting Anderson pay cash upfront. Twice, he had his teenage son drive Anderson to the bank to get cash.
''He always wanted money beforehand,'' she said. ''So I gave him money.''
William F. LaGace wound up charging Anderson $6,040—a ''severely overinflated'' charge, according to Chicago police, who arrested him. Under police questioning, LaGace admitted he overcharged the woman nearly $4,500 and didn't finish the work. He admitted ''there was no such thing as removing carbon monoxide.''
LaGace, now 40, was sent to prison for three years for aggravated home-repair fraud and theft. He got out on parole last year. Efforts to reach him through his parole agent were unsuccessful.
Anderson said she has grown more cautious.
''I watch myself, but, still, you don't know. I'm having some work done now, but I won't let the guy get the best of me. I tell him, 'Don't take advantage of me because I will put you in jail, like the other guy.'"
Contributing: Amanda Beeler
SIDEBAR
Elder Abuse Ranges From Scams to Murder
No one knows exactly how widespread elder abuse is in Illinois.
That's largely because police and prosecutors around the state often differ on what they consider elder abuse, which Illinois law defines as any physical, mental or sexual injury or financial exploitation of a person 60 or older.
Few law enforcement officials stick to that definition, a Chicago Sun-Times survey of police departments and prosecutors found. Some define it as only physical abuse. Others say it involves only financial exploitation. Many included any crime committed against a senior—even if the person wasn't targeted because of age or infirmity.
The Chicago Police Department's tally for last year included almost all crimes against senior citizens—from property damage to homicides. By that measure, 21,273 Chicagoans were victims of elder abuse last year, or one case every 24 minutes. In Chicago alone, every day more than two elderly residents are defrauded of cash, property or possessions, police say.
But the Cook County state's attorney's office, which prosecutes the city's cases, handled only 150 elder abuse cases countywide last year. It uses a narrower definition.
The Illinois Department on Aging, which handles reports of criminal and noncriminal cases, received 2,439 reports of elder abuse in Cook County last year, 1,239 of them in Chicago. Statewide, the department received 7,372 reports and found evidence to substantiate 4,275 as cases in which they think abuse took place.
Yet, two years ago, the state agency estimated the number of cases—not including any that might involve nursing homes—could be as high as 76,000 because of underreporting. By that measure—which the state reached using projections developed by advocates in the field—one of every 25 Illinois residents 60 and older could be a victim.
The wide variance in how law enforcement officials define elder abuse seems to color their view of how big a problem it is. Seven percent of Chicago area police departments answering the Sun-Times survey said they consider it a big problem. More than two-thirds said it was only a slight problem. Just under 11 percent characterized it a medium-size problem.
The lack of reliable and consistent figures is "a serious issue," said Candace J. Heisler, an expert on elder abuse. "It masks how serious the problem is. Let's face it, need drives resources. … How can you demonstrate the problem if you can't show the numbers?"
—Scott Fornek
