E-Mail This Article to a Friend Punitive damage The DOC must be held accountable for John Geoghan’s death. Plus, CORI reform is needed.

THE CRIMES OF former priest John Geoghan, who is believed to have molested about 150 children over three decades as a priest, are almost beyond comprehension. But the way he died is equally shocking. How did it come to pass that Geoghan was choked and stomped to death by fellow prisoner Joseph Druce in the most secure ward of the Massachusetts Department of Correction? If this incident doesn’t prompt a top-to-bottom overhaul of the way the Massachusetts Department of Correction does business, it’s hard to imagine what would. Yet reform of the state’s prison system remains in doubt. That’s because of prevailing societal indifference to the conditions under which the incarcerated live; indeed, much of the public would like to see those who have committed crimes punished more severely.

As of this writing, we know many of the details of the killing — the use of a book to jam Geoghan’s prison cell door, the use of socks and a shoe to strangle the former priest, the duration of the attack, which lasted eight minutes. Even so, we’ll probably never know the full truth. Just as we’ll never truly understand how John Salvi, convicted of murdering two reproductive-health-clinic workers in Brookline, was able to kill himself while in the DOC’s custody and care. Just as we’ll never know how a guard who threw a bucket of acidic detergent at an inmate at Bridgewater State Hospital in the mid 1990s was able to keep his job after a two-year investigation. Just as we’ll never know why guards who allegedly burned prisoners during a "shakedown" at MCI-Shirley in 2000 are still employed by the DOC.

Governor Mitt Romney deserves credit for convening an independent investigation into the state’s prison practices, ranging from staffing levels to specific procedures in the protective-custody unit where Geoghan was murdered. But given that a DOC investigator is on the three-member panel looking into Geoghan’s death, we don’t expect the committee to recommend substantial change.

And substantial change is needed. Why was the elderly Geoghan, a serial pedophile who preyed primarily on boys — leading many to conclude, incorrectly, that he was homosexual, which evidence suggests wasn’t true — housed with a violent homophobe convicted of murdering a gay man? As Boston College theology professor Stephen Pope tells the Phoenix: "Even an idiot would know not to do that."

DOC inmates are under constant surveillance by guards. They live under lock and key. Yet abuse of prisoners by other prisoners happens all the time. How? Geoghan was moved to the Souza-Baranowski Correctional Facility because he didn’t feel safe at MCI-Concord. As Kristen Lombardi reports in this issue (see "Shame on the Department of Correction"), Geoghan told attorneys with Massachusetts Correctional Legal Services (MCLS), which provides legal assistance to prisoners, that other prisoners routinely harassed him. But guards were in on it too. In one instance, says Jim Pingeon of MCLS, a guard defecated in Geoghan’s cell at MCI-Concord. Regardless of what most of us might like to see happen to serial child molesters such as Geoghan, we have a Constitution that’s quite clear on the matter. Cruel and unusual punishment isn’t an option.

A truly independent investigation is needed to hold the DOC accountable. The Worcester County District Attorney’s Office is conducting the lead investigation into the murder. Just three days after Geoghan’s death, however, Worcester County district attorney John Conte already believes that Druce appears to have acted alone, as Conte told the New York Times. This makes little sense when you consider that a prisoner in the protective-custody unit told Pingeon that he knew about Druce’s plans to kill Geoghan and had alerted guards, who ignored the warning. Surely that should raise suspicion that the guards may have been complicit in the murder.

One sorry footnote to this tragedy is that because Geoghan died before the appeal of his conviction could be heard, the conviction will be dismissed. There will be no official record of Geoghan’s crimes in the Commonwealth. To be sure, Geoghan’s conviction was a joke. He was sentenced to nine to 10 years in prison for having touched a boy’s buttocks. Since when is anyone sentenced to jail time for what amounts to groping? Clearly, Middlesex Superior Court judge Sandra Hamlin, who sentenced Geoghan, had other allegations against the former priest in mind. But more substantial cases dealing with allegations of child rape were proceeding against Geoghan in Suffolk County. He will never stand trial for these crimes. Likewise, the Boston archdiocese — including Bernard Cardinal Law and his deputies — will never be held responsible, albeit by proxy, for enabling Geoghan by repeatedly transferring him from parish to parish. As for those victims of Geoghan who were waiting for their day in court with the priest, their opportunity for closure has been taken away.

The public is likely to feel little sympathy for Geoghan. But we should care about the way Geoghan died. It was brutal. It was sickening. And it happened on our watch.

THE DEPARTMENT of Correction isn’t the only portion of our criminal-justice system in need of reform. The Criminal Offender Record Information Act (CORI) has become a barrier to employment and housing for thousands of law-abiding citizens. The intent behind the law is good: it provides a means for employers serving vulnerable populations such as children and the elderly to check the backgrounds of job applicants. No one wants to see people convicted of child abuse serving as foster parents, for example.

But good intentions have a way of going awry, and that’s what has happened with CORI. Charges that have ultimately turned out to be false regularly show up in CORI files. Charges that have been dismissed also appear. There are dozens of cases of mistaken identity. Take the case of Edward Bland, whose childhood friend once used Bland’s name when he was arrested. As Lombardi reports (see "Record Time"), the "friend" has a lengthy CORI file that is sent to Bland’s potential employers whenever they check his CORI background.

None of this, however, addresses the issue of whether CORI files should be disseminated in the first place. Ironically, when the CORI Act was passed in 1972, the intent was to protect the privacy of people with criminal records. The law limited those who could access someone’s criminal record to law-enforcement personnel, such as police officers and prosecutors. Employers and landlords need not apply. Over the years, however, protecting privacy has given way to the public’s right to know. Thanks to changes in the law, the number of private and public organizations certified to receive CORI files has swelled to 9000. Just a decade ago, only 2000 such organizations were authorized to receive CORI reports. Meanwhile, the organization that administers the law, the Massachusetts Criminal History Systems Board (CHSB), fields 125,000 requests per month for CORIs. Just two years ago, the agency dealt with 83,000 requests per month.

Now we see people with criminal records who have served their time — whether in jail or on probation — essentially unable to find employment. CORI files are thick with detail but thin on context. As State Senator Dianne Wilkerson told the Phoenix, "We have created a generation of permanently unemployable people and made them into pariahs."

Wilkerson has filed legislation that would require the CHSB simply to double-check the information given out in CORI reports. Yes, you read that right: double-check the information. That this doesn’t happen as a matter of routine is an outrage. But if it takes a law to get people in charge of disseminating information that could prevent someone from getting housing or employment to make sure that the information is accurate, so be it. The second measure is designed to limit the information that can be disseminated in a CORI. Sponsored by State Representative Ben Swan, the bill would prohibit the inclusion of charges that have been dropped or did not result in conviction.

Contact House Speaker Tom Finneran’s office at (617) 727-3600 and tell him you support these bills. Contact Senate president Robert Travaglini’s office at (617) 722-1500 to do the same. More important, call your local representative and senator; you can find a complete listing on the Web at www.state.ma.us/legis/legis.htm.

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