ShareThisBLOOMFIELD, Mo. — On his 14th birthday, Owen Welty received an unexpected gift: a half-pint carton of milk and chocolate sheet cake for 40 -- enough to
share with all his fellow inmates and the guards at a Missouri jail.
Already confined eight months while awaiting trial on first-degree murder charges, Owen savored his drink and his cake. On the inside, mundane items
become rare luxuries, metal and glass containers can be weaponized, and jailhouse noise can keep sleep at bay, leaving plenty of time for
contemplation.
"I'd sit down and just start thinking," recalls Owen, now 18.
He fixated on being charged in the death of his 64-year old neighbor, and the possibility of 30 years in prison. Cravings for Big Macs and clean
clothes. Fears about fighting off older inmates who targeted him for attacks. Boredom from being kept in isolation for weeks at a time. Costly legal
efforts that burdened his family.
Owen was a baby-faced 13-year-old when he entered Missouri's justice system in November 2006, spending all but one of the next 27 months moving among
three adult jails. He was finally tried, acquitted and released in February 2009.
It's difficult to put Owen's case in context among those of other juveniles held in adult jails -- 7,500 at any given time, the U.S. Justice Department
says. No national data track the amount of time they spend in jail, the conditions they experience or their case outcomes.
Rural jails, like two in which Owen was held, may not have the same level of resources of those found in more populous areas, said Ned Loughran,
executive director of Council of Juvenile Correctional Administrators. Its members come from all 50 states.
Owen says that, while in jail, he was attacked frequently and faced sexual advances. Other inmates would "knock the crap out of me," he says. "It was
like a game to them."
The teen claims one night he fended off an attempted rape with a makeshift knife kept by his bedside. Another time, Owen says, he was stabbed in the
ribs and left arm.
Jail administrators confirm that Owen mingled with adult inmates, but say they have no proof he was ever harmed physically or sexually. Scripps Howard
could not independently confirm many of the charges Owen makes.
"He would constantly stir up problems," says Sheriff John Jordan of Cape Girardeau County, whose jail held Owen from Sept. 25, 2007, through June 20,
2008.
In the first two jails, Owen had no teacher and was expected to learn from math worksheets and textbooks his mother delivered. One sheriff said he
simply had no space for classes, and another said he had no responsibility to teach the youngster.
With few exceptions, Missouri mandates that youngsters under age 17 receive a formal education. School districts and county jails have a joint
obligation to educate youths in their care, agreed Peter Leone, a University of Maryland education professor who works extensively with the federal
Justice Department and states to monitor detention facilities.
Told that the two counties didn't provide a teacher for Owen, he responded: "That's outrageous."
When Owen was given instruction, he flourished. In the St. Louis County jail -- Owen's third and final stop -- he enrolled in a GED test prep class,
advancing from the sixth-grade level to the 12th in a matter of months.
Behind bars, food took on increased prominence.
Sometimes, jailers in Stoddard County would "'forget' to feed me. I don't want to sound like a violent person but I'd start kicking the door and
raising hell," Owen says. Hefner, the sheriff, disputes that claim.
Ideally, Hefner says, juveniles certified as adults should be kept separate, and safe, from older inmates -- but tight finances often preclude that.
"Even though they are certified as adults," he says, "they are still children."
Owen, now 18 and out of jail for longer than he was in, still faces flashbacks. Right after his release, Owen's family moved from Missouri to Clay
County, Ark., where the family had relatives and hopes for a fresh start. A senior at Piggott High School, Owen has long since made friends with
classmates, and he expects to graduate in May. He talks of going to a technical college, perhaps to become a master welder.
Owen wants people to know what he experienced so maybe other young teens won't have to go through what he did in terms of the conditions and duration
of his jail time.
"It was bad. It was real bad. It took two-and-a-half years out of my life, out of my family's life. We fought, we spent our life savings on it," he
said. "It's terrible. I don't think juveniles should be transferred into the adult jails. You know what I mean?"
(Email reporter Isaac Wolf at wolfi@shns.com.)
(Distributed by Scripps Howard News Service,http://www.scrippsnews.com)
