Proposed bail reforms offer support to the ill

Almost four years after she was arrested and charged with felony child neglect, Belinda Hernandez's long and troubled passage through Harris County's criminal justice system is finally headed for trial in April.

Prosecutors originally sought to send Hernandez to prison for 20 years for allegedly failing to medicate her nine-year-old son, who suffers from hypothyroidism. Hernandez, who also suffers from hypothyroidism, diabetes and other ailments, refuses to plead guilty, even after an offer of probation.

What angers her almost as much as the charge is the way she was locked up for 15 months pretrial, even though she was very ill, no longer had custody of her son and had no criminal record beyond traffic tickets. The cost: $537,737 in hospital bills alone, at least a third of which was covered by county taxpayers.

Contributing to her troubles was Harris County's rigid bail system - a system that county officials, lawyers, legal experts and legislators say most likely violates both state law and the U.S. Constitution by failing to make meaningful individual assessments of risk and ability to pay. Harris County locks up more people pretrial than most other large counties utilizing a standardized schedule that sets bond amounts for specific crimes. Magistrates make bond decisions based almost entirely on charges filed and prior convictions. The bond hearings are held over video linkup during which few questions are asked and defendants have no attorneys.

Too sick to attend

At the time of her arrest in July 2012, Hernandez was too sick to attend her bail hearing, at which she had no legal representation. Hernandez remained in jail because she was unable to post $3,000 in bail on a $30,000 bond. She was finally freed pending trial in October 2013 after the county attorney's office stepped in and requested a "compassionate release."

Her public defenders say her experience stands as a powerful object lesson for additional reform county officials have only begun to implement.

Sheriff Ron Hickman, who took over as sheriff last May, said his office is attempting to work withcourt officials to expedite dockets and secure the pretrial release of inmates with serious health problems when appropriate.

"Ultimately it is the decision of the courts as to whether or not to grant release," he said.

A planned overhaul of the county's criminal justice intake and pretrial reviews could alter the process. In January, District Attorney Devon Anderson announced plans to address nonviolent, mentally ill and severely sick inmates, in part by hiring a coordinator to troubleshoot the jail population. Officials also are separately examining a proposal to provide defense attorneys at bail hearings who could help raise medical, mental health and financial issues before defendants are jailed.

Born when her mother was 14 years old, Hernandez struggled personally and as a mother. She attended Texas Southern University but couldn't afford to complete a degree. Though she held down jobs as a Houston Independent School District attendance clerk and cab driver, she missed rent and moved frequently. Over the years she incurred more than a dozen traffic tickets, sometimes serving jail time in lieu of fines.

While Hernandez underwent surgery in 2010, her mother, Norma Garcia, rushed her youngest son to the hospital. Doctors learned the boy hadn't been taking his medicine for his condition, which if untreated, can cause permanent mental and physical defects. Doctors notified authorities and Garcia gained custody in March 2011, records indicate.

A year and a half later Hernandez, then 47, was charged with injury to a child by omission. Hernandez admitted she'd stopped medicating her son when he was eight months old because she disagreed with doctors, records show. Concerned with side effects - hair loss, restless sleep, heat and cold intolerance - she tried alternative remedies. The boy, now 12, is just learning to read due to developmental delays, his grandmother says.

Will Cowardin, who is prosecuting Hernandez, said that while the District Attorney's Office does take the health of inmates into account, the law applies equally.

"To say that someone should be free from prosecution for what amounts to a fairly serious crime just because of an illness, I don't think that would be fair," he said.

Harris County Pretrial Services acts as a liaison between the jail and the courts, helping gauge if defendants merit pretrial release. But no one interviewed Hernandez until 15 months after her arrest, on the day she was released from jail.

Implausible and improbable

When Hernandez entered the jail, she was recovering from a toe amputation. She initially weighed 260 pounds, according to the sheriff's department. In custody, her weight ballooned to more than 400 pounds, she believes from a switch in her blood pressure medication. Ten months later, it had become nearly impossible for staff to "properly weigh her or care for her." She also developed open wounds on her left leg, one measuring 12 by 9 inches and oozing green pus, jail infirmary records show.

Her illnesses were so serious jail staff couldn't bring her to several court hearings. She missed some because she was hospitalized. She said she didn't attend others because the jail failed to provide a wheelchair. In one motion, Hernandez's first appointed attorney, Cary Hart, noted that her case had been delayed in part "because Ms. Hernandez has numerous medical issues and was not delivered to court by the Sheriff's Office."

Ryan Sullivan, a sheriff's department spokesman, said such "implausible dramatic weight gain" would have been immediately addressed by a jail nutritionist. However, Hernandez declined to sign a waiver releasing her full medical records and Sullivan said privacy laws prevented him from commenting directly on her care. He added that plenty of wheelchairs are available for inmates, saying there were no "probable circumstances" where access would be denied.

Sheriff Hickman, who was not in office at the time of Hernandez' incarceration, said in a statement that attorneys, prosecutors, judges and others are involved in transfer decisions involving more than 800 inmates a day.

"The Sheriff's Office cannot and does not make unilateral decisions to withhold the transfer of an inmate to a court appearance."

In May 2013, Hernandez was rushed to Memorial Hermann Hospital in septic shock and multi-organ failure. She subsequently contracted MRSA pneumonia. Doctors told her she likely had six months left to live.

Because of her unusual circumstances, the county attorney's office, the sheriff's office and prosecutors met to discuss her situation.

Still, it would be four more months before a judge agreed to release her.

Judges and advocates argue that a better system is needed to quickly evaluate very sick and mentally ill defendants, who rely on ad hoc review processes. Some have attorneys who ask for lowered bonds or pretrial release. Others spend their final days in jail or in custody at county hospitals, separated from family.

'More understanding'

In many cases, judges could grant more low-cost personal recognizance bonds, which enable indigent defendants' release on the condition they remain in contact with Pretrial Services, advocates say. But those are issued rarely in Harris County, in part because judges say they lack confidence in the county's current risk assessments. Following Hernandez's release in October 2013, two public defenders, Eric Davis and Bukky Oyewuwo, took on her case. Because of Hernandez's limited mobility, her attorneys must go to her - meeting at hospitals, her dialysis center or wherever she's staying. Once, the pair donned contagion gear - surgical masks, gloves, hair covers and hospital gowns - in order to see her.

Her vision is gone and she receives dialysis multiple times a week. She was recently evicted from a tiny apartment in southeast Houston, where her mattress rested directly on the floor. Prescription bottles were scattered on a table next to a boxy TV. A walker was propped up in one corner, while a wheelchair sat next to the kitchen doorway. A canvas bag from a dialysis center hung off a doorknob.

Hernandez argues that she did not deserve to have been "locked up like that."

"They do need to be more lenient. More understanding," she said, as she drew a comforter around herself and huddled beneath it.