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2nd Chance At Family Life

Tribune photo by JASON BEHNKEN

Nicholas Stewart goes through bills as his wife, Delilah, and daughters Leah, left, and Nicole watch television recently. The Stewarts got their children back four days before Christmas.

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By SHERRI ACKERMAN, The Tampa Tribune

Published: January 22, 2008

Updated: 01/22/2008 12:12 am

CLEARWATER - In October 2006, Nicholas Stewart found out his live-in girlfriend was cheating on him and flew into a rage.

He tied Delilah Lopez to a chair, held a knife to her throat and threatened to inject her with a bleach-filled needle he had used to shoot up heroin. The next day, he told her he was going to choke her to death.

In the next several weeks, life for both spiraled downward. Deputies served Nicholas with an injunction, but Delilah refused to cooperate and the two got back together. Nicholas was jailed and released, and both he and Delilah tested positive for drugs, including heroin.

The state took their two daughters, Leah, now 6, and Nicole, 3, who went to live with their grandmother in Spring Hill. Delilah and Nicholas lost their jobs and ended up homeless.

At rock bottom, something finally clicked.

"I could lose my kids forever," said Delilah, 26.

Why she didn't tells volumes, not only of the effort she and Nicholas have made to turn their lives around, but also about how the state's attitudes toward problem parents have shifted over the years.
Reunification Is The Main Goal
In Florida last year, slightly more than 40,000 children came into the care of the Department of Children & Families. Some, like Nicole and Leah, were exposed to a violent home life. Others went without food or clean clothes, were beaten or worse.

Lawmakers require DCF and its private contractors to work with the parents or caregivers to get back their children using a case plan that can include parenting classes, therapy, drug treatment, domestic violence counseling and other educational efforts.

A statewide goal requires children be returned to their caregivers within a year or begin a path that allows the state to terminate parental rights and find the children permanent homes with relatives or through adoption. The idea is to keep children from languishing in foster care, bouncing from home to home.

Sometimes the state meets its goals: Recent figures show a 72 percent rate. Often, particularly in West Central Florida, it doesn't. In the 11-county Suncoast region that includes Pinellas, Hillsborough and Pasco counties, the average one-year success rate is less than 60 percent.

State officials say the child's welfare is paramount and they won't return a child to parents who haven't made enough progress in changing their behavior.

Pinellas' success rate hovers near 69.5 percent, said April Putzulu of Safe Children Coalition, which contracts with DCF to provide local foster care and adoption services.

Meeting that figure almost always requires major lifestyle changes on the part of the parents or caregivers. Getting and keeping a job, conquering addictions, and learning to control violent impulses is an ongoing job, one measured in tiny steps forward and, often, falls from grace.

In the case of Nicholas and Delilah, caseworkers had their doubts.

At one point, case manager Halimah D'Alconzo told her supervisor: "I don't know if I could ever recommend reunification."

'This Had Been A Scary Case'

When D'Alconzo first met Nicholas in court, he pounded his fists on tables. When she checked in with Delilah by telephone, she could hear him in the background shouting obscenities. A few times during face-to-face meetings, D'Alconzo feared Nicholas was going to assault her.

"I told him later 'You were a scary guy back then,'" says D'Alconzo, now a supervisor with Directions For Mental Health who still keeps tabs on the family.

"She hated me," Nicholas says.

In nine months, though, Delilah and Nicholas pulled off the unthinkable. They settled down, started methadone treatment and set their minds on winning back their children. In less than a year, they completed the bulk of their case plan. The girls came home four days before Christmas.

"That's probably a little bit sooner than most of our families," says Joi Lempke, director of operations for Safe Children Coalition.

When Lempke reviewed the couple's case plan, "I was really surprised," she says of their progress. "This had been a scary case."

In years past, Delilah and Nicholas might not have gotten a second chance. DCF used to operate under the philosophy that it was better to take the child and run. Especially when the agency continuously weathered national headlines, such as when 2-year-old Bradley McGee died in 1989.

Records show the toddler's caseworker, juggling a mammoth caseload, allowed the boy to remain at home with his mother and stepfather despite numerous red flags. Bradley died after his stepfather repeatedly slammed the boy's head into a toilet.

The case horrified child advocates and prompted lawmakers to approve a $79 million child protection plan that added nearly 300 workers to the DCF payroll with one objective: keep children safe.

For many, that meant putting more children into foster or group homes, even when the parents weren't abusive, but were providing poor care because of poverty or lack of education.

Fast-forward nearly two decades, and advocates nationwide now think keeping children in the home - when it's deemed safe and appropriate - and bringing services, such as counseling and financial assistance, to families is best.

Federal guidelines call for reunifying 70 percent of families whose children come into state care, said Alan Abramowitz, a DCF administrator from Central Florida who recently oversaw child welfare in Pinellas and Pasco counties.

The fact that the federal government also is emphasizing reunification has meant more dollars at the state level can go toward prevention - helping families stay together, he said. Recent studies also have shown that children do better when they can remain at home, Abramowitz added.

Florida's shift to community-based care, in which local agencies oversee child welfare for the state, also has added to the push to keep families together, advocates say. Cases statewide are closed within 60 days, either by reuniting families or starting case plans. Children reported to the hot line are visited within 24 hours.

Critics argue it's just a convenient way for the state to save money, but Abramowitz disagrees.

"We will never be able to say a child won't die due to abuse as long as there are people out there who will kill a child," he said. "But we have gotten better as a state."

Parents Have To Do Their Part

Because Nicholas and Delilah, who eventually married, had so many problems and their lifestyle risked their daughters' safety, Safe Children Coalition did remove the girls. But the agency used treatment and behavior-modification options to help the couple regain custody.

The state required both parents to undergo drug treatment and random, weekly testing, which continues today. They had to line up Narcotics Anonymous sponsors and take part in in-home counseling.

Nicholas had to complete a 26-week batterer's intervention class. Halfway through the program, his counselor noted marked improvements.

"Mr. Stewart actively participates, asks appropriate questions, verbalizes an understanding of the information presented, and is open to feedback," the counselor wrote in an update in July. "He appears to be motivated to attend and is pleasant and cooperative."

For Nicholas, there was no other choice. Like many caught in the grip of drug or alcohol addiction, he spiraled through arrests, joblessness and homelessness.

The loss of his children, though, was different. Raised by drug addicts himself, Nicholas wanted better for his children.

"I busted my butt to get my kids back," he said recently in the family's Clearwater apartment. "If you love them, you definitely have to work to get them back."

Delilah, who also has a criminal record that includes writing bad checks, enrolled in a 12-week domestic violence victim's class. Both participated in a court-approved parenting program.

They also had to maintain stable housing and earn enough income to support their family. Delilah works for a financial company as a loss prevention specialist.

Nicholas, with a criminal history that includes felony drug arrests and prison time from his home state of New Jersey, has had a harder time finding and keeping steady employment. The 27-year-old typically works day labor.

Leah, who is not Nicholas' biological daughter, has to be enrolled in school. Nicole has to attend day care. It allows for another set of eyes to watch the family and helps mom and dad ease back into the parenting routine, D'Alconzo said.

Relapse Would Change Everything

The family still has random visits by their new caseworker, the third in a year. In three months, the visits will drop to bi-weekly. Monitoring ends at six months as long as the family has complied with all tasks.

That doesn't mean the Stewarts are home free. A relapse in drug use or other problems that risk the children's safety could land Nicholas and Delilah back in the system and lead to the permanent loss of their parental rights. Neither sees that happening.

"The loss of my kids was eye-opening," Delilah says. "I realized I wasn't a good enough mom."

Researcher Stephanie Pincus contributed to this report. Reporter Sherri Ackerman can be reached at (813) 259-7144 or sackerman@tampatrib.com.

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