Living out of a suitcase these past four weeks has been exhausting.
Today is Monday, July 30, 2018.
The final leg of a three region driving trip closed out, yesterday.
I'm back at my house in Georgia for the first time since July 1st.
Much has happened.
Not sure where to start.
The following is a dissection of just some of what transpired this month:
July 2018
The week of Independence Day, my husband and I were in Michigan for a niece and a nephew's combo high school graduation party. Two very bright young people, with the world at their feet. I like to say to the young man, "POTUS or SCOTUS", Joe, because he's that bright. He thinks I'm joking, but I'm not. The young lady, our niece Isabella, is a multi-lingual scholar with a heart of gold. I look forward to watching the future unfold for these millenials (or are they iGen?), as they will be leaders.
That gives me hope.
The Michigan leg was ten days. Each day, I did hours of work on my brother's legal case, as did my mom...as did the legal team. Our sister also worked on some IRS documents with us for the nonprofit. It wasn't a vacation. Jeff's situation doesn't go on vacation, so we fought on with the advocacy and all the behind the scenes hard, emotional, 80+ hrs/week, WORK. Very complex.
Part of the focus was finding a place that would serve Jeff's placement needs, appropriately. Too much detail for this post, but I will highlight that story fully, in an upcoming blog, soon enough. My work in Michigan included lawyer meetings, calls, documents, searching/researching where Jeff could live - somewhere that wouldn't allow him to fall through the very WIDE cracks AGAIN, which would result in the nightmare of criminalization starting over. No way were we going to allow that, as our massive and expensive efforts would've been for nothing.
The CYCLE had to STOP.
#EndGame
Directly after the round-trip GA to MI trek with my husband, I repacked my suitcase and one day later hit the road, by myself, for Oklahoma. It had only been about six weeks since my previous trip to my home state. Such is how it's been for the past three years. Back2back2back trips. And, repeat. I really need an Oklahoma address....ugh.
Without stops, Oklahoma is a thirteen hour drive from where I live in Georgia. We had many high priorities to attend to, so I decided to grab a hotel deal online, and mom met me in Tulsa so we could get enough rest before the next day. There were several Residential Care Facilities we needed to visit. We needed to see the RCFs in person, so not to approve of anything that we know will lead to failure. Jeff has been through this dozens of times. We know what will work, and we know what won't work. Jeff's skill level dictates how well he can take care of himself. We know how damaged and worn down he is, after all these years. Leaving his "placement" in the hands of the ODMHSAS has only proven to land him in a delusional state, criminalized, and back in jail, time and time again. Not this time.
No more crossing our fingers and hoping maybe this time will be different.
Maybe this time will be better. Nope.
This family, this TEAM, is in full court press, until an appropriate answer is found.
Jeff is amazing. If you spoke to him every day like we do, you'd know. Truly amazing. Still kind and forgiving. A man that has been criminalized and abused over and over due to his mental disability, yet he has so much love in his heart.
That's what perplexes this family, to the core. How the "system" has put labels on him, some no more than gossip and lies (one day this story will be told, but not in this blog). The system couldn't find a placement for Jeff, literally due to the lies that have been spread about him by those in charge of caring for him, and I told them, so. They have created their own problem, having a very hard time finding a place to transfer my brother to. They need to realize that. And if anyone would like to call me and have a conversation about it, I am more than willing to engage and enlighten. Truly, if only the department and the department's facilities WOULD engage with the family, it would save the state literally MILLIONS of dollars. This is not an exaggeration.
Moreso, how about adhering to statutes and rights, for once?
It's been smh after smh shocker moments... unreal.
I cannot wait to write the script and tell the tale.
The day after I arrived in Oklahoma, Jeff's lawyer met us at an RCF for a tour. This was Thursday. We were left with a very good first impression by the RCF owners, as they and the entire staff are very kind. The residents (I won't get into anything in particular, but they are survivors, for sure) - also, very kind and welcoming. We came away feeling, for the first time ever, Jeff could live here. A place that understands him, as he is. A place that can take care of his needs (i.e., meals, laundry, transportation, multiple days each week of therapeutic treatments, etc. All within Jeff's meagre disability income.) This place is the only facility we've ever experienced in all these thirty years, where you can "feel" that they care. You'd think all Residential Care Facilities would exude such a feeling, but it was absolutely the first time we've felt that. The relief was refreshing. We could tell that this would be a new and better experience for our sweet Jeff.
One of our lawyers found this place. The acute psych facility where Jeff has been (since we got the asinine criminal charges dropped) was tasked by mental health court with finding a place for Jeff to live. But it wasn't them that found this place, it was our awesome team that did. THANK GOD.
After our visit, Mom told Jeff about this RCF that night.
He couldn't wait to tell the discharge planner about it.
Jeff had HOPE for the first time in a LONG time.
Thursday was a long day. Still, the next day (Friday) mom and I drove to Norman for a 501(c3 Tax meeting, and to visit the two RCF's the facility, under ODMHSAS, had come up with. These were NOT on our list and were never under our consideration (again, due to us knowing this would only begin the failures all over again. Jeff's needs would not have been met!) Mom and I wanted to see these places for ourselves.
Jeff doesn't own a car (never has).
He has no cell phone.
(He throws them away when a delusion tells him the device is dangerous
- or whatever scenario at that moment...you never know.)
Jeff lives on much less than $1,000/mo.
These two RCF's that the ODMHSAS facility had at the top of THEIR list had:
*No transportation:
Jeff's body is worn out from years walking everywhere, and homelessness.
*No meals (one of the two RCF's had one evening meal provided, that's it.)
No grocery stores nearby. Jeff cannot cook.
*Jeff has no furniture to use.
*Jeff has no support system in Norman. Zero personal connections. Family would be far away.
He would've been alone IN A NEW CITY.
*One of these two RCFs was strictly for the elderly. Jeff is 49.
This all spells
F.A.I.L.U.R.E.
and a certain repeat of past tragedies.
The spiral into incarceration would be expected if Jeff would've been sent there.
We've seen it many times.
Oklahoma: Your "system" CREATES the punishment of the disabled!
How many folks like Jeff are there in Oklahoma? Easily hundreds.
I was crying every time I heard mention of him being "sent" to live in Norman, but Tulsa offered zero options. That night, mom and I drove back to her house knowing those were a hard "no" - and the one we had seen the previous day was the only feasible option in the entire state that wouldn't lead to a repeat of the past. #StopTheInsanity
Friday night we hit the hay, hard, in McAlester. The weekend brought more travel. A Tulsa visit with Jeff for Mom, Dad, and myself, plus more nonstop calls/meetings/documents. In addition, getting Jeff's years of clothes out of storage, Mom began washing and sorting for days. Sizes ranging from 36 to 52, bins and dusty boxes, full. Jeff's sizes varied due to the neuroleptic medications side-effects affecting his cravings, his metabolism, and just flat out creating weight gain (and diabetes!) He's back to a much more normal weight, now. Still, having had over twenty addresses in the three years prior to the arrest incident in 2016, keeping up with his clothes and sizes while he was homeless half the time, was a huge job that mom is still handling.
Monday morning, the ODMHSAS facility discharge planner emailed Mother, because Mom is Jeff's legal Treatment Advocate, and the department is required by law to keep her informed. Many times she was still ignored. Many times it was like pulling teeth to get them to include Jeff's official Treatment Advocate UNDER THE LAW, but this time they couldn't wait to tell her:
Jeff would be moved in three days!
Thankfully, it would be to the facility we approve of.
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(My mind just went to another true story about a man that suffered under the politics of a city, and three days later, He rose...)
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Some concerns: Jeff hadn't been free in almost two full years, so there is much mom and I had to do to have things ready for him. The clothes, shoes, toiletries, his finances, mom did all that. Legal items we had been trying to arrange that we were able to make happen, prior to discharge day. Plus, there was a status conference in mental health court (that became more of a discharge hearing) that week. Mom and I were running on four hours' sleep, all these nights. But Jeff's freedom was finally in sight. Complex emotions, running high...
I won't go into some things that were shocking to us, that weren't on the positive end, for Jeff.
I'll leave that for the screenplay.
The day Jeff was discharged was exactly one week shy of 2 yrs since his arrest on July 26, 2016.
He had not been free in all that time.
He had not been free in all that time.
We were there when he walked out that door.
That was day 185 in the acute psychiatric facility.
Add those 185 days to almost
*three months of seclusion in the jail mental pods,
*eleven months at Oklahoma Forensic Center,
and
*111 days in DLMCJC Tulsa County Jail alone, in straight-up solitary confinement.
My dear brother.
Poster Human for A Broken System.
Mom and I caravanned with the transport car that took Jeff to his new home.
He was dropped off, checked in, and we took it from there.
Jeff had never seen this place before,
but freedom never looked so good.
Just six months prior, Jeff was facing life in prison,
for nothing more than being disabled!
FACT:
If we hadn't been able to hire several of Oklahoma's best lawyers, my brother could be serving life in prison, right now. And to be clear, our lawyers didn't pull favors, or play politics...they simply had the ODMHSAS follow laws that were on the books. That's it.
God bless all those who cannot afford this.
WAKE UP, OKLAHOMA.
YOU HAVE TO DO BETTER.
Today, we thank God for our incomparable legal team, for family support, and for all the friends of this cause that helped to get us to this point. It hasn't been easy. And let me add...
we are just getting started.
It will continue to be an emotional journey,
as Jeff decompresses from the torture he has endured.
Same for mom. This affects her viscerally and deeply.
She is his mainstay.
Please pray for them.
Restoration will be a long and careful new journey.
Oklahoma owes our mother a debt of gratitude for staying the course, standing her ground, being the staunchest warrior advocate imaginable against all odds, as the powers that be ignored hers and Jeff's rights. They didn't understand how right she has been all these years. But now we have proof, and you know what they say...
THE TRUTH WILL SET YOU FREE
We will continue this journey, and soon enough, we will help others just like Jeff, with our nonprofit.
One person at a time.
HOPE
FREEDOM
APPROPRIATE CARE
That's enough for today.
Thank you, God.
~Jackie Welton DiPillo
WJW Mental Health Legal Fund
POBOX 991
McALESTER, OK 74501
EIN: Tax ID #83-0791888
