County Settles Suit In Hanging
Juvenile hall suicide try left S.J. teen in near coma
By Roxanne Stites
Originally published in the Mercury News, April 12, 2002
Shane VanZerr lies on a hospital bed in the living room of his mother's San Jose home, unable to speak or move, the victim of a failed suicide attempt at Santa Clara County Juvenile Hall in 1998 when he was 14.
Doctors say he might not live long. But for as long as he does, his medical needs will be taken care of. This week, after years of negotiations, the county settled a lawsuit filed by Shane's family for $3.5 million, part of which is for a wrongful-death claim that cited the youth's now severely diminished life expectancy.
Shelley VanZerr-Terry's lawsuit alleged that county authorities failed to adequately treat a diagnosed mental illness before her son attempted to hang himself with a bedsheet. For its part, the county refuses to acknowledge fault for the youth's persistent vegetative state, but it did agree to the record settlement.
The sum is the largest involving Juvenile Hall in county history.
"It hurts me to see him every day like this," VanZerr-Terry said. "His life never should have ended like this."
County Counsel Ann Ravel said the county settled only to avoid a lengthy and potentially costly trial.
"His situation is a very unfortunate, sad one," Ravel said.
Although the young man faced millions of dollars in costs for round-the-clock, lifetime care, the county risked having a jury come back with a higher figure.
VanZerr-Terry claims her son, who was taken to Juvenile Hall on burglary and vandalism charges, begged a counselor for help and threatened to kill himself the very day he made his suicide attempt.
She also claims the county didn't put him on the proper medication soon enough to treat his bipolar disorder. And while he was supposed to be on suicide watch, she said, Juvenile Hall officials failed to take precautions such as checking him at regular intervals and having a roommate present at all times.
County lawyers, however, dispute those claims. They say authorities tried to release the youth into his mother's care after they realized the charges were minor, but that she insisted he remain locked up to teach him a lesson.
Dispute over drug
Officials also said that once a doctor did diagnose him with bipolar disorder, more than two months after he was booked, Shane's mother wouldn't immediately let the county give him lithium, a standard drug for treating the disorder. She eventually agreed, but the drug wasn't started until two days before the hanging attempt.
The case unfolded this way: Shane was sent to Juvenile Hall on Oct. 15, 1997, for breaking into a convenience store and stealing cigarettes and candy with his brother and friends. They also broke into a church, where they slept overnight and vandalized property.
According to the family's attorney, Steve Defilippis, there were problems with how the county dealt with the teen's emotional state long before the suicide attempt Jan. 24, 1998.
On suicide watch
When Shane was initially interviewed by a psychologist at Juvenile Hall, he told him he had tried to kill himself 11 times. He was put on suicide watch, but not placed in a locked psychiatric facility, as a psychologist had recommended as an option. Instead, he was housed in Juvenile Hall, and twice sent to a group home, where he escaped both times.
Shane was initially diagnosed with a depressive disorder. According to his file, officials said, Shane told the psychologist he was bipolar, but he wasn't diagnosed with that until Dec. 30, when he was evaluated at a group home. A doctor prescribed lithium for him on Jan. 9, but Shane didn't start the drug until Jan. 22.
He attempted to hang himself two days later.
Accounts differ
There are conflicting versions of the events leading up to the suicide attempt.
Defilippis, the family attorney, said Shane told other inmates that morning that he intended to kill himself if he didn't get out of Juvenile Hall. He also told an officer he wanted to hurt himself, but the staffer ignored the plea, the lawyer charged.
The same corrections officer asked a few juveniles if they'd be Shane's roommate while his regular one went to dinner. County policy states that all inmates on suicide watch are required to have a roommate. But the others refused, Defilippis said.
Instead of watching Shane himself, the staffer left for about 15 minutes, coming back to find Shane not breathing.
County officials, however, said that the juveniles contradicted themselves and each other, and said there's no evidence Shane made any threats to anybody that day. They also said that the officer couldn't force anybody to be Shane's roommate, and that he checked on Shane every five minutes.
Shane now lives in a vegetative state, hooked up to feeding tubes. He can't turn or talk, and the prognosis varies.
He has sleep-wake cycles. He opens his eyes every day about 8 a.m. for nurses or his mother, who turn him to prevent bed sores. He looks at the pages of Stephen King novels as they're being read to him. He swallows, moans and grunts. He can even smile and shed tears.
VanZerr-Terry said that when she's in his room, he'll move his head and eyes to track her. He looks at her when she talks to him. But he doesn't fixate and eventually stares blankly.
Doctors say that even with his eyes open, he may be totally unaware of his environment. But VanZerr-Terry sees something the doctors don't. She says he lights up when his 5-month-old sister, Brooke, is placed on his bed, or when his hand is brushed over the family cat. Sometimes when she asks him a question, his lips and tongue move.
She has hope—even though doctors don't.
"It's the most depressing thing ever. But he's still my son—just a different version of him," she said.
