After working in prisons for 23 years, Karl Wickizer had reason to believe no one would want to live there. But then he saw where criminals lived when they got out.
“Inside, they had heat, clothes, hot water and soap and three meals a day,” he said. “I remember them getting really antsy and nervous when they were getting out. It’s because they knew what they were going back to.”
When he became a community corrections officer, Wickizer had a chance to see what they were going back to, and he was shocked. “People were living in old campers with no electricity, getting food from the food bank and being filthy, cold and wet,” he said.
In spite of the obstacles some offenders face trying to get back into society, Wickizer has the task of making sure they don’t go back to crime. It’s a big job, but Wickizer is optimistic, thanks to a positive attitude and some new regulations that give him more tools.
Getting out
In a small portable office on the grounds of the Monroe Correctional Complex, three officers work from cramped quarters, sharing a caseload of 45 or so offenders at any given time. Those offenders are scattered from Monroe to Skykomish and north to Lake Roesiger. And it’s the job of the community corrections officers to not only make sure that each is complying with the conditions of his release, but visit the home of each at regular intervals.
The job of trying to keep offenders from reoffending actually begins before the prisoner even gets out, said Wickizer. “When they are 120 days from release, the counselor will ask them, where do you plan to release to?” he said. “Then the counselor completes an offender release plan. Who lives there? Is treatment required? They send that electronically to the assignment officer, and he gives it to one of us three.”
Then the officer pays a visit to the home in which the offender plans to stay. “We do a walk through, looking for guns, evidence of meth labs, whatever,” he said. “We ask, ‘Do you have dogs?’ Once the address looks good, we approve. We don’t deny a lot of Offender Release Plans.”
Most offenders are required to show up at the CCO’s office within 24 hours of release. Then the officer goes over with him all the terms and expectations of his release. Usually the offender has to report to the office once or twice a month. But the officers are also required to visit the offender’s residence unannounced at least once a month. That can mean whole days spent driving around. “We spent all morning in the field,” said Wickizer Friday. “We did a whole bunch of East County places in the Sky Valley on Mann Road and Ben Howard.”
When release doesn’t go well
The system works pretty well in most cases, but when an offender can’t find a home, things can get complicated. “A lot of offenders have burned a lot of bridges and their families don’t want them back,” said Wickizer, whose tiny office is bedecked with posters of hotrod cars, his favorite off-duty hobby. “Sometimes the family would say to the offender, ‘Yeah, you can stay here,’ but when we call they say, ‘Oh, I’ve changed my mind.”
Offenders who committed serious crimes can’t get out until they have provided a good address, though, or until they have reached their maximum sentence, regardless of the time off for good behavior they have earned. In fact 1,300 such offenders were held until they reached their maximum sentence last year.
Sometimes offenders will beg community corrections officers to help them find a place to live, but CCOs aren’t equipped for that, said Wickizer. “We’re not in the real estate business,” he said.
Occasionally, an offender never provides a good address. When the state can no longer hold that person, he is released homeless, and is asked only to say what town he will live in. It’s not that common in East Snohomish County, said Wickizer; right now he has just one homeless offender. But in more urban areas, the percent released homeless can be quite high; it approaches 30% in Seattle.
Staying straight
Even when release goes well, most offenders aren’t perfect after release, said Wickizer.In fact, community confinement without at least a few violations is pretty rare, he said. Officers typically have a graduated system of sanctions for violations such as a urine test that turns up positive for drugs or a missed appointment with an officer.
At first, it could be a verbal reprimand. After that, it could be increased drug tests or visits, then jail time, then even more jail time, before an offender is sent back to prison to complete his sentence.
One major challenge that faces offenders is finding employment, noted Wickizer. “The job situation is bad,” he said. “We don’t punish them for not working. If there’s no job, there’s no job. But that affects their self worth and self esteem.”And that, in turn, makes them likelier to get in trouble again.
Sometimes, the outcomes are horrible.
Jan. 14, Joseph Hradec, 37, a homeless offender on Wickizer’s caseload with a long history of mental problems, made several calls to 911 from an Aurora Avenue motel in Seattle. He said he was having panic attacks, and a woman’s voice could be heard yelling that he had a knife and wouldn’t let her go.
When police showed up, they saw he had a knife and hit him with a taser. When he still moved toward them, they shot him dead.
Watching people fail is the most depressing part of the job, said Wickizer. “You only live once on this earth,” he said. “Seeing them flounder, watching the months go by, their lives go by, they have nothing. They’re going to be 60 someday and look in the mirror and say, ‘What am I going to do? How am I going to start over now?’”
New laws mean to address chronic problems
A bill currently before the state legislature would require the state to find a solution to homelessness among released offenders by 2015. It’s hoped that could reduce the kind of outcome that occurred in Hradec’s case. Requiring the state to provide rental vouchers for inmates for the first three months could reduce homelessness and save the state money, as it would still be cheaper than keeping them incarcerated, according to a report completed by legislative staff.
Another bill, proposed by Monroe’s representative Kirk Pearson, would require CCOs like Wickizer to perform random searches of the homes of offenders. Currently officers don’t search homes without probable cause, Wickizer explained. “It’s just policy,” he said. “We don’t routinely toss a house.”
It might not be a bad thing, though, he said. “It would give us more latitude, I think,” he said.
Successes
Recently, the Department of Corrections decided as a matter of policy to increase home visits to offenders, and that has helped keep offenders behaving well, said Wickizer. “It lets them know we are going to be by any time,” he said.
For the most part, inmates have been pretty cooperative, he said. “You develop a rapport with them,” he said. “You know how they are doing in treatment, their kids’ names, their girlfriends’ names, their dogs. They want to show you their new dirt bike.”
And as much as offenders frequently flounder and fail, there are some that surprise you, said Wickizer. “We had one offender that was a cocaine addict,” he said. “He ran the streets of Everett, waas in trouble constantly, he would not report, he was always in jail, it was like pulling teeth to get him to report. Finally, we got a DOC contracted 30-day treatment for him.”
After that, things strated to change for the Monroe man, said Wickizer.
“He went, and he realized how well he like not looking over his shoulder. His girlfriend is here in Monroe, and getting his drivers license, and he’s providing clean UAs. He likes giving UAs now. Every time he comes in, he looks good, and he says, “I love my life.’ You just feel good, seeing him come in.”
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