TEXAS VIEW: Answers needed when inmates die in Tarrant County Jail

THE POINT: Taxpayers and families have a right to know.

A woman who didn’t even know her husband had landed in jail learned he died there not from jail officials but through a Star-Telegram story.

It’s reprehensible, and similar stories of families looking for answers — and finding few — raise alarm bells yet again about prisoner deaths at the Tarrant County Jail.

It is hard enough to be a family member of an incarcerated person who died in custody, but when loved ones cannot find out how their family member died because jail officials are secretive or delay, that’s wrong. Some policies need to change.

Prisoner deaths are unusually high in the Tarrant County Jail. Forty people have died there since 2016, including 17 in 2020 and 12 in 2021; two have died so far this year. That number far outweighs other large Texas counties’ jails. The Dallas County jail saw eight deaths in 2020 and nine in 2021, and that jail houses about 1,600 more inmates.

Of the 40 deaths, officials say, COVID-19 claimed nine prisoners. Three were ruled as suicides, and one prisoner killed his own cellmate. Seventeen prisoners died from health issues they had before they were imprisoned, and those are considered “natural” deaths.

Tarrant County has to overturn every stone to figure out if there’s a systemic problem and, if so, how to address it. Nothing should escape scrutiny, especially staffing levels, training, procedures and leadership.

Two years ago, Sheriff Bill Waybourn said he’d been looking for technology to improve inmate monitoring. Is it up and running yet, and is it effective? Inmates with pre-existing health conditions should not be kept in regular jail cells with healthy inmates. So why were they?

Waybourn, through his staff, declined to answer our questions.

The Texas Rangers usually handle inmate deaths, but answers have been sparse now for the last couple years. It’s time for county commissioners to dig deeper.

Discovering information about the cause of death of a prisoner appears to be no small task. When the Star-Telegram’s Nichole Manna tried to examine deaths going back just six years, it required significant sleuthing and resources that average families — especially in the throes of grief — probably don’t have.

Manna found that when some prisoners die, their loved ones are not immediately informed. After many months, they still don’t know the cause of death. When family members have pressed the jail for answers, especially regarding deaths that seem suspicious, their requests for public records have been delayed or denied for months or years.

There is no reason for a taxpayer-funded jail to be this secretive or for the information flow to be this clogged. Did police, deputies or jailers violate protocols or use excessive force? Did staff neglect to monitor an inmate with medical problems, mental illness or a risk of suicide?

These are questions families have a right to ask. Families have a right to know in a timely manner both the death of a loved one in jail and the cause of death.

Texas law dictates that authorities can withhold any information related to the death of an inmate if they consider the case to be under investigation. Of course, an investigation should not be undermined, but in the case of the man who died after being beaten by jailers, family members say they were never even notified that he was hospitalized.

That hardly seems ethical, even if it’s technically within the bounds of the law. There must be a way to tweak that policy to better serve family members.

Remember, someone processed into the jail isn’t yet guilty in the eyes of the law. The sheriff’s department, through no fault of its own, deals with a disproportionate number of people with mental illness, addiction and often years of under-treated health problems.

But if the state takes someone into custody, it has the obligation to ensure their safety. It’s time for Waybourn and staff to be more transparent and for county commissioners to demand answers and public accountability.

Fort Worth Star-Telegram