Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: MONDAY, February 27, 1995 TAG: 9502270021
SECTION: VIRGINIA PAGE: A1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: DIANE STRUZZI STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: LENGTH: Long
One afternoon a few days after she was charged with allowing her 16-year-old son to break curfew, Patricia Holdaway had no idea where he was.
But she knew one place he wasn't: school.
"I just didn't want to go to school," her son, Lloyd Furrow, explained several days later. "So I went to a friend's house, then went to another friend's house."
Some days, Patricia Holdaway meets the lack of communication with her son head-on.
"He'll just have to start listening to me and go to school," she says.
Other days, she doesn't acknowledge there is any lack of communication.
"I don't consider me and him as having a problem," she says.
When police cited Lloyd with breaking curfew this month, they also held Holdaway responsible. The 16-year-old became the first Roanoke juvenile to accrue five curfew violations, police say. Holdaway, 36, of Southwest Roanoke, became the first parent in the city charged because of her son's actions.
"I just left," Lloyd said of the night he was arrested. "But it ain't her fault. She shouldn't be held responsible. I'm 16 years old. I know right from wrong."
Patricia Holdaway is less certain about her role, and her responsibilities.
"That's a tough question," she said. "No, I really don't think I'm responsible. ... There's no father around; I'm raising him on my own. If he can't listen to me and go to bed when I ask him to. ... I can't put him behind locked doors like he's in prison."
If Holdaway has no easy answers about what to do to help Lloyd, neither do police. For youth bureau detectives, charging Holdaway was a last resort.
"The prime purpose of the youth bureau is to work with kids and resolve things out of court whenever possible," said Maj. J.L. Viar of the criminal investigations bureau. "But in this case we weren't getting the cooperation we deemed necessary."
Holdaway is to appear in Roanoke Juvenile and Domestic Relations Court for her arraignment on the misdemeanor charge today. She faces up to $2,500 in fines and/or a 12-month jail sentence.
"I'm just going to tell the judge I can't do nothing with him," she said.
Holdaway's case illuminates a national debate about the impact of curfew ordinances and the legal responsibility parents have when their children break the law.
In recent years, curfew ordinances have been enacted by many cities in the hopes of curtailing juvenile crime, gang violence in particular. Holding parents legally accountable for their children's actions has become increasingly popular.
More than 20 years ago, Mechanicville, a town in upstate New York, enacted a parental-responsibility law in conjunction with a juvenile-curfew ordinance. The child and parent are given three warnings. After that, parents are cited and, if convicted, must pay a $50 fine.
Since Peter Clements became police chief 16 years ago, he has arrested five parents. None has been a repeat offender, he says.
In San Antonio, Texas, where there is a daytime and nighttime curfew, the number of juveniles victimized by crime has decreased 85 percent during night curfew hours over the past three years. Juvenile crime - measured by how many children are being arrested - has decreased 30 percent in the same period.
The daytime curfew, which was passed in January 1994, is in effect school days between 9 a.m. and 2:30 p.m. Both curfews govern teen-agers 17 and under.
San Antonio also has a massive youth initiative that uses resources from eight city departments and costs taxpayers $23 million, said Sergio Soto, who manages the effort.
"We've married law enforcement with intervention and prevention," he said.
In Roanoke, authorities say similar cooperation is at work on a smaller scale. The curfew ordinance is a way to track at-risk children and intervene before the problem gets out of hand, said Lt. Jerry Dean of the Roanoke youth bureau.
Some at-risk children can benefit from programs such as the Coyner Springs tour, which gives them a glimpse into life at the juvenile detention center, or the street-law class, in which children who are cited with offenses can take an eight-week course on the justice system. If they successfully complete the class, their charge is never brought to Juvenile and Domestic Relations Court.
"The system is trying to keep the children from getting a juvenile court record, but we need some help from parents," Dean said. "Parents bring them into the world ... they can't just dump them onto society."
Holdaway's story is one of a family in crisis.
Police became involved with Lloyd when he was about 11, Holdaway said. He was charged with petty larceny for taking a bike. Lloyd says he took the bike from a trash heap.
The lanky teen keeps his eyes down when he speaks. He picks constantly at his fingers. His voice is barely audible. When asked what he'll be doing when he's 20, he says, "Can't plan for the future."
"You don't think you can set goals for the future?" his mother asks.
"No," he answers.
"He says he wants to be a famous basketball player ... so he can buy me a new car and a new house," Holdaway adds.
Lloyd fires back with a chuckle, "I ain't buying you nothing."
Holdaway says in the last several years Lloyd has stayed out of trouble except for his curfew violations.
She says she supports her family through the disability check he receives.
Her eldest son, 19-year-old Michael Furrow, is serving a three-year prison sentence for grand larceny and robbery. She hasn't spoken to him in more than a year.
"I went through so much with these kids, I'm just about ready to call it quits," she said.
But at 5 a.m. on Feb. 11, Holdaway was awakened again by a call from police about one of her children. This time it was about Lloyd. Police had stopped him driving her car, she said.
Authorities charged him with violating the curfew and driving without an operator's license. After an investigation, police charged Holdaway with the misdemeanor of allowing him to break curfew.
She says she was in bed and had no idea he was out. But she admits she knew the repercussions if he was charged with breaking curfew again.
"Police explained to me that if they catch him out [again] ... I'd be charged," she said. "[But] this ain't going to make him better."
Several days later, Holdaway changed her mind.
"I don't think there's going to be any more problems," she said. "Because Lloyd sees what he's putting me through, and he says he's not going to do it anymore."
by CNB