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Tuesday, July 17, 2001

By Steve Twedt, Post-Gazette Staff Writer

FORT WALTON BEACH, Fla. -- When McKeesport native Becky Woolheater landed in a psychiatric hospital in Florida's panhandle last spring, it marked another chapter in how Pennsylvania fails its most distressed and vulnerable youth.

Becky was at the Gulf Coast Youth Treatment Center for one reason -- Pennsylvania didn't have a suitable place for aggressive, mentally ill teens, especially teen-age girls.

	Becky Woolheater watches TV in Gulf Coast's recreation room during a break. The McKeesport native was sent to the Florida facility after spending six months in detention, waiting fruitlessly for a local program to accept her. (Robin Rombach, Post-Gazette)

Woolheater, now 19, is marginally retarded, occasionally suffers clinical depression and has sometimes shown explosive outbursts of anger during her adolescence. The juvenile justice system zeroed in on her anger, and what she did when she was in a rage.

Before she arrived in Florida, she had spent nearly seven months at Allegheny County's Shuman Juvenile Detention Center for kicking two staff members at a Whale's Tale shelter, where she'd lived after she experienced problems at home.

During her time at Shuman, Becky was hospitalized five times at Western Psychiatric Institute and Clinic in Oakland because she had attempted suicide or had assaulted staff members. Once, she banged her head against a wall so hard she suffered a concussion.

Each time, Western Psychiatric staff would stabilize her. But because the facility does not offer the long-term care she needs, she was shipped back to Shuman as soon as the crisis passed.

Shuman is not equipped to give specialized mental health treatment, and because of her aggressive behavior, none of the community-based mental health homes, called residential treatment facilities, would take her. So Becky was stuck.

After six months -- 10 times longer than teens are supposed to be in detention -- Allegheny County Juvenile Court officials decided in the spring of 2000 to send her to the Gulf Coast center, where her treatment would cost the county $280 a day. When she was discharged on Feb. 26, the 10-month bill to Pennsylvania taxpayers came to about $85,000.

Becky paid a high price, too.

From affection to rebellion

Until she got on the plane to Florida, escorted by two sheriff's deputies, shackles on her arms and legs, Becky had never been outside Allegheny County. "I was really nervous," she recounted weeks later. "I didn't know if the other residents would like me. I didn't know if the staff would like me."

For the first month, Becky's stay went smoothly. She treated everyone like a long-lost friend. In fact, staff had to remind her not to hug the other residents. On a unit where nearly every girl had been sexually abused, any physical contact could be misinterpreted or set off a flashback.

Becky's trouble at the Florida center started in early June, when she said she realized her good behavior would not get her back to Pittsburgh. So she resorted to bad behavior, falling into the pattern she'd followed for years. She lashed out four times in one week and ended up with her hands and feet tied to her bed, until she could calm down.

Then, one day, Becky approached Assistant Program Director Angie Fleury and hugged her. Fleury gently but firmly told her that was not appropriate, and guided Becky to a chair. As she sat down, Becky grabbed Fleury's hair with both hands and slammed her to the floor. She then stomped on Angie's back as staff rushed to pull her off.

Carol Andrus, who oversaw Becky's care in Florida, said they tried in vain to find a group home for Becky for after she returned to Pennsylvania. (Robin Rombach, Post-Gazette)

In those few seconds, Becky caused deep bruising that kept Fleury off work for four weeks. A muscle tear in her back made it too painful for Fleury to stand or even sit up for more than four hours at a time.

Fleury, 25, decided not to press charges. A criminal charge "is what she wanted so she would be out of this facility," Fleury said later, "and I did not want to give her what she wanted."

It's not so much that she blames Becky, though.

"The system keeps putting [girls like] Becky into placements that don't satisfy their needs, and they eventually go into bigger systems that cost society even more money. You can pay early, and get them stable in life, or you pay a bigger price later.

"I think Becky is one of many who was caught late in the system.

"If they had caught it early on, or not pushed her into detention, I would have never been attacked. That's the way I feel."

Controlling her anger

From mid-summer on, Becky made slow, steady progress, as she learned to control her temper. It was a long process, and occasionally she lost ground. But as the New Year passed, Becky had gone more than a month without hurting herself or anyone else. She earned excellent marks in academic classes, and she was even leading some therapy groups. Center officials decided she was ready to leave.

"Becky has gone about as far as Becky can go," said Carol Andrus, program supervisor at Gulf Coast. "She's been stable for a long, long time. When they get to a certain point, they go backward if you keep them any longer."

On the sub-freezing February day when Becky landed back at Pittsburgh International Airport -- this time with sandals on her feet instead of shackles -- she bounded off the jet, full of smiles and hopes. She moved in with mother Judy in Fayette County with plans to go to a vocational training school in Johnstown.

"I'm tired of messing up. I've had enough of being locked up. I want to go home to my mom," Becky said on the ride from the airport.

Becky said the Gulf Coast staff taught her to control her anger. Fleury, whom Becky considers a good friend now, accompanied her on the plane. "They helped me. They showed love for me there. They were nice to me. I miss them already."

But she was glad to have her freedom back.

Becky, said Andrus, still needs individual attention and specialized help. The staff recommended that Becky go to an adult group home, but they couldn't find one near her home to take her.

Just after dark on Feb. 26, Becky and her probation officer pulled up in front of her uncle's home in Connellsville in Fayette County. Mom peeked out the window, then stepped out onto the porch. As Becky ran up the stairs, she nearly tripped in her rush to hug her mother. After a quick embrace, they walked inside to start the next phase of Becky's life.

Becky and her mother had spoken frequently by phone while Becky was in Florida, but they had not lived under the same roof in nearly two years.

Becky believed she had changed. "I want to do good for my mom," she said.

But without the intense, one-on-one attention she got in Florida, it's hard to know if Becky will be able to sustain her new stability. Just a few months after she returned to Pittsburgh, she ran away from her mother and now lives with relatives in McKeesport.

Because she's 19, if she gets in trouble with the law again, her margin for youthful error is gone.

Any future arrest will land her in adult jail, not Shuman.

If that happens, there will be no obligation to teach her, or treat her, or accommodate her any differently than other inmates. From now on, she knows, each new offense means the grip of the justice system will be stronger and will hold her longer.