Voices for victims of elder abuse

In Giles County, population 17,286 and slipping, three women have teamed up to lead the way in Virginia to expose crimes of abuse, neglect and exploitation against the elderly.

Their goal is to propel societal changes much the same way that child advocates did decades ago, so that cases are not only reported, investigated and prosecuted but that the person harmed can live whatever time is left free of abuse.

"Back in the '70s we didn't want to talk about child abuse, about parents psychologically and physically harming their children," said Janet Brennend, ombudsman and elder abuse prevention specialist for the New River Valley Agency on Aging.

"We don't hear about a son raping his mother who's in her 80s or 90s. We don't hear about sons locking their mothers in the house or going through their entire bank account or leaving them in a two-room house with no heat or running water," she said. "We don't hear about it unless it's sensationalized in some ways."

She and her teammates Debbie Sifford, assistant commonwealth's attorney for Giles County, and Suzy Quillen, an adult protective services investigator for Giles County Social Services, know they have far to go to in stopping the abuse, but they are nothing if not dedicated to the task. They say their successes can be replicated across Virginia, especially since most localities start with more people and more funding than they'll ever have.

"Funding for children is federally mandated. They get money," Quillen said. "When my director sits down to do our budget and is told you have to shave off a million dollars, you can't take it from the children. Where are you going to take it?"

As funding for elder abuse gets skimpier, Quillen said she gets more determined and resourceful in enlisting partners. As an ombudsman, Brennend can look for systemic changes, while Quillen's mandate is to stop abuse one person at a time.

More than the minimum

Of the 8 million people living in Virginia, about 1.6 million are older than 60. Last year at the request of the General Assembly, the Department for Aging and Rehabilitation Services set out to determine how many older Virginians are swindled out of their money, and how much of their wealth is stolen.

Only about a thousand cases ever come to the attention of investigators like Quillen. But the report's authors noted there is good cause to believe that 44,000 older Virginians lose $1.2 billion every year. Most of the money is taken by family members, few of whom are ever prosecuted.

A review of statewide circuit court records from 2014 through 2016 turned up cases in which 48 Virginians were charged with financially exploiting an older adult. Ten of the cases were prosecuted in the New River Valley where Brennend works. Six of those were in tiny Giles County, and all resulted in convictions. As part of pleas and sentences, the defendants agree to never again serve as caregivers.

Prosecution, though, isn't their main goal. The women are touting a concept called "restorative justice," in which they seek outcomes based on what the older person desires.

Older people who are abused and exploited get a say in what they want to happen to those who took advantage of them and in how they will live out the remainder of their lives. Even people considered to be incapacitated and legally unable to make decisions have the capacity to know what they like.

"We had this woman who has been getting this guy's check, a thousand dollars a month for 11 or 12 years. We're never going to get all that money back, but to come up with a number that's going to make a difference in his day-to-day life," Sifford said. They settled on $100 a month, which lets him afford ice cream and movies.

"The little fellow had never been to the movies," she said. "For us, it's not always the financial exploitation but the quality of life we can provide these folks."

Also important to most of the survivors is that the person who abused them is not allowed to do it again.

"You go in, you investigate, you get it to stop. That's the minimum. I'm not OK with that," Quillen said.

They seek sentences that include a provision prohibiting the offender from ever serving as a caregiver for another person.

"If they're in jail, they're not making restitution. If that's important to the person then we have to take that into consideration," Quillen said.

She said they had built a slam-dunk case against the caregiver of a wealthy elderly woman, who asked them not to prosecute. She worried that everyone in the community would then know she had money and that she would be taken advantage of again.

If no one looked too closely, it was easy to think that the elderly woman at the center of another case was doing just fine. Her health was failing, but her daughter, a nurse, moved in so that the mother could stay at home. No one had seen the once sociable woman for some time, but few gave it much thought.

The woman was living in filth. Her daughter and adult grandchild cut her off from everyone she knew and took control of her life, her money and her property.

"This is what she was living in when we got the call. There was no working shower or bath. There was rat feces and nastiness in the kitchen," Sifford said.

She flipped through photos. Here, she said, this is how the house looked afterward: a comfortable, tidy home with a piano at its centerpiece.

"She hadn't played her piano in years," Sifford said. "She might not have known who she was or where she was, but she enjoyed playing the piano at church."

Much was stolen from the woman: her money, her trust, years of friendship and companionship.

Sifford, though, is heartened that they were able to restore some of that for the woman in her last years.

"Usually it's not just financial exploitation. It's physical or emotional abuse as well," she said. Once the abused person is removed from that environment, "they begin to thrive. Folks who don't talk, start talking."

One man had been abused his whole life and at first seemed unable to help investigators build a case. But he surprised them with all kinds of information that led to guilty pleas against his abusers.

"They never realized the incapacitated person could relay all that information because they put him in a corner facing a wall for years, thinking he was just and idiot and nothing would happen," Sifford said. "When he got out and felt safe, he started telling all kinds of stuff he knew was happening."

Not all cases are criminal.

"I have an equal number of cases where abuse and neglect have occurred, but it's not intentional," Sifford said. "There are cases where it is just caregiver burnout. You have eight siblings and one is doing it all. They've been set up for failure from Day 1, and things just spiral out of control. They don't know where to turn. They don't know what services are out there, or how to get services."

Many families get into trouble by not understanding limitations of a power of attorney.

"I can sit here with a crayon and write 'You are my power of attorney,' and there you go. It's legal and that's a big problem," Quillen said.

People abuse that power, and spend money on themselves.

'Revolutionary' approach

If you ask Sifford, Brennend and Quillen separately why they've had success, each credits the others' passion and vigor and the support of Giles County Commonwealth's Attorney Bobby Lilly for recognizing elder abuse as the crime that it is. They also talk much about teamwork, not just with each other but with every other agency in the county.

Every police officer who even tangentially works in Giles County has Quillen's cellphone number, she said. And she has them all on speed dial.

Bankers, doctors, preachers, building inspectors and even the dog catcher have been schooled by the women on the signs of elder abuse. And more in the community keep asking to know.

They've hosted education meetings.

Brennend's agency was awarded a $10,000 grant in 2009 to establish an elder justice commission, and she said they've created a network of people who can tap into each other's expertise and services.

"It doesn't matter how many workers work as hard as I do, we can't do it by ourselves. We are not enough to battle it," she said.

The women have been invited to statewide conferences to talk about their teamwork.

At their first presentation a couple of years ago, they were doing a breakout session while three others were going on.

"Most of the room was filled. Then we looked up and people were standing in the back. When we finished there were people standing in the back and sitting on the floor. The room was packed," Sifford said. "So at breakfast the next day, some of the folks who were there were talking to us about it. One of the ladies said, 'It is because you are the only ones here to talk about victims who lived. Everyone else is talking about prosecuting people for victims who died. We want to hear how you keep them from dying.'"

Quillen and Brennend recently talked about teamwork and restorative justice during the Governor's Conference on Aging in Roanoke. Pam Teaster, director of the Center for Gerontology at Virginia Tech, joined them.

Again it was a breakout session. The room wasn't packed, but those who were there peppered them with questions.

Some said they find it hard to get cases prosecuted.

The General Assembly earlier this year made a couple of changes to the law to further protect the elderly, including the requirement that police be notified when money is taken, regardless of how small the amount.

When local departments don't have the expertise to look at finances, the women turn to state police. Those resources are available to all, Quillen said.

Teaster is studying the restorative justice approach and is pulling Brennend's cases to see whether the quality of care and of life improve for the older adults.

"This is revolutionary," she said. "My hunch is there are quality of life and real cost savings because the problem got resolved, and it doesn't show back up on the doorstep of the commonwealth or the police or the family. It feels real good but I want to see it in practice."