The Impossible Dream

On those rare occasions when Bob Butterworth is actually at his new desk at the Department of Children and Families, a portrait of movie hero John Wayne is behind him. On the wall nearer the door is one of Don Quixote, Cervantes' delusional crusader. Always moving, always looking down the road, Bob Butterworth has a little bit of both characters in him.

He won't be content just to bring stability to an agency that lost its last three leaders under fire and seems always waiting for its next embarrassing headline. Butterworth says he'd like to do such a great job at serving troubled kids and families that there's no longer any use for the Department of Juvenile Justice, a similarly troubled agency that deals with delinquent teenagers.

Sure it's impossible, but it's a great mission.

"I've been fighting crime since 1969," says Butterworth, who was a prosecutor early in his legal career, then became a judge, the sheriff of Broward County and eventually the longest-serving attorney general in Florida history. "The big thing about fighting crime is crime prevention. Arresting people is the expensive way. I have a better chance of preventing crime here than in all my other jobs."

Not many people seem to think that way in government. Crime prevention is law enforcement; juvenile delinquency is law enforcement plus some rehab; schools are classrooms; DCF is welfare.

But will Butterworth ever get the money he needs? The answer is at least a year away, but it's the real test of an administration's determination, as far as many long-disappointed advocates are concerned. Butterworth downplays the lack of money -- in deference, no doubt, to his governor's budgeting.

The focus now -- necessary but insufficient -- is rethinking how DCF does its job.

When you're Bob Butterworth, you don't have to settle for conventional wisdom. He has credibility and excellent relationships with sheriffs, judges, legislators. He meets with philanthropies, like the Eckerd and Knight foundations, which can fill some program gaps. And he has the admiration of the governor himself, who was on the Florida Cabinet as education commissioner for two years while Butterworth was there as attorney general.

Butterworth, a Democrat, called Republican Crist after the election and said he wanted to help with the transition. Crist countered that he wanted Butterworth in his administration. They talked about Juvenile Justice, but Butterworth wanted DCF. "I don't think I would have accepted any other job in government," says Butterworth, who'll turn 65 in August. "People said, 'Are you nuts?' "

Crist calls him "a fixer."

Butterworth is clearly a new sheriff in town. Unlike many new department heads, who go into an agency alone, Butterworth brought his own cavalry, including his longtime deputy, George Sheldon, a highly regarded legislator from Tampa a generation ago. Sheldon, assistant secretary for operations overseeing all the district offices, was Butterworth's chief deputy at the attorney general's office and then at St. Thomas Law School, where Butterworth was dean. Sheldon is also godfather to Butterworth's teenage daughter.

Other newcomers in the high command include two former leaders from the Florida Department of Law Enforcement, Jim Sewell and Paul Rowell, and chief of staff Jason Dimitris, a former assistant statewide prosecutor who taught high school to young offenders in Manatee County before going to law school.

'Seeking solutions'

Butterworth moved quickly on visible problems. His predecessor, Lucy Hadi, was held in contempt of court in Pinellas County and fined $80,000 for failing to provide treatment to mentally ill jail inmates.

Butterworth came in, met with Public Defender Robert Dillinger and Judge Crockett Farnell and worked out an arrangement for treatment within the jail and 30 days of state-paid medication.

DCF, says Butterworth, has quit "defending the indefensible."

The agency settled similar cases all over Florida -- 111 of them within 90 days -- along with about 60 other cases ranging from auto accidents to neglectful care. Butterworth, a staunch advocate of open government as attorney general, also put a stop to decades of obstructing access to agency records other than portions related to children's identity or similar confidential information.

General Counsel John Copelan, hired last year, says DCF has changed "180 degrees" by seeking "solutions ... and not confrontation."

But it's one thing to settle lawsuits, and quite another to fix the causes.

Butterworth has begun focusing on more and better training of caseworkers and investigators. The agency is also reworking the outsourcing contracts from the Jeb Bush era, which moved caseworkers to local agencies. "No one understands them," Butterworth said of the contracts.

There are staffing issues. He's contending with tight staffing after aggressive job cuts from outsourcing and a growing workload. Overworked people dealing with complex problems are less likely to make good decisions.

Butterworth also is turning abuse investigations over to sheriffs. He started this 10 years ago in Broward County after his AG's office took over DCF caseloads in several swamped counties. He gave Broward Sheriff Ken Jenne the money, and Jenne's better-trained, better-equipped deputies did the investigating. Five other counties signed on. Now Butterworth wants to do it statewide. He says sheriffs support the idea. "Their only problem is that they don't trust the Legislature to fully fund it."

The extent of the challenge at DCF was illustrated one recent evening at a restaurant near the Capitol. Andrea Moore, executive director of the statewide advocacy group Children First, had brought a dozen former foster children, now young adults, to meet with Butterworth and Sheldon and talk about their experience. Butterworth wanted to recognize their successes, but he also wanted information.

They had few kind words for DCF. One said she had been in 250 different homes during her youth. Another had been medicated "from the age of 8 to the age of 18" for what seemed to be normal adolescent behavior. Many described caseworkers whose foster-home visits were perfunctory.

Asked where they had gotten the most help, several spoke warmly of the outside lawyers appointed to represent them. When a lawyer is the most constant and important adult in a kid's life, there's something wrong.

Butterworth didn't mention it, but he clearly needs to build continuity and effectiveness and reduce turnover among the hundreds of underpaid, overworked, undersupported and sometimes underperforming caseworkers. The managerial approach and money to do that is a serious challenge -- especially in a state that, as Butterworth noted, "isn't highly ranked in anything" related to children.

Butterworth said he wants to meet with the group again and wants each former foster child to bring "somebody who has made a difference in your life." He would videotape the session for caseworker training. He wanted caseworkers to "walk in the shoes of a foster child for a day," he said, and would "challenge my (management) people, and the business community, to do the same thing."

The next morning, Butterworth was back at his desk. Behind him was John Wayne. And there, next to the door, was Don Quixote.

Tags: Politics & Law, North Central, Government/Politics & Law