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Basu: Where was intervention to save starving teen?

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REKHA BASU   | rbasu@dmreg.com

Officially, Natalie Finn died of cardiac arrest, but that clinical term sanitizes the real reason the 16-year-old’s heart stopped beating. A child who arrived with a new millennium that promised revolutionary, life-enhancing technologies died in a way reminiscent of Dickensian times: She literally starved to death. It happened seven weeks ago in the suburb of West Des Moines, where the median household has income of $71,000 a year.

Natalie didn’t die of poverty, and she didn’t die without making repeated pleas for help, for herself and her siblings. But she died nonetheless, because her parents, based on law enforcement accounts, evidently had no concern for her survival, and people who did couldn’t get the right respondents to take the necessary steps to save her.

Natalie’s mother is charged with murder; both parents, Nicole Marie Finn and Joseph Michael Finn II, are charged with kidnapping, child endangerment and neglect of a dependent. But some institutions may share some culpability for letting Natalie fall through the cracks without taking decisive action.

A letter writer to this newspaper asks that we not assign blame, but volunteer to advocate for vulnerable children in the court system, as the writer herself does. But valuable as her work is, it doesn’t absolve police and state child welfare agents of their responsibility to follow through when a child is literally begging for food, as it's reported Natalie did. She once took a schoolmate’s shoes, saying when confronted that she didn’t have any of her own.

In May, neighbor Becca Gordon contacted West Des Moines police and told them Natalie had been begging for food and appeared to be neglected. That was the month after Natalie tried to run away. Gordon told the Register that Natalie had told her that she and her sister had been locked up by their mother for two days and were hungry. Police contacted the Iowa Department of Human Services, but Gordon never got a call.

Police went to the Finn house but left after no one answered the door, though someone was visible inside. Gordon also talked to school officials, and it’s her understanding that they contacted human services officials. She has said she tried unsuccessfully many times to contact Natalie’s parents.

Natalie had attended the alternative high school, Walnut Creek Campus, the year before, but was not in school this year.  After Natalie's death, Gordon contacted my colleague, Reader’s Watchdog Lee Rood, wondering why charges had not been filed.

Were these parents, who allegedly refused to feed, clothe and provide medical care for their children, incompetent or sadistic? They had adopted at least some of them, raising the question: Were they in it for the stipends, with no interest in or intention of caring for the children? Did any adoption official follow up?

All three of the children who lived in the West Des Moines house had mental or physical disabilities, but it’s not clear how much of those were the result of abuse and deprivations or if that's why they had been up for adoption. At any rate, a complaint filed in court says their mistreatment caused them substantial physical and emotional harm.

In fact, if the reports are true, Nicole Finn had more empathy for stray dogs than for her own children. A dog shelter she owned and operated claims to provide loving homes for the animals while teaching “responsible pet ownership." Meanwhile, the owner's own child roamed the streets in search of food.

Did police drop the ball? Did the DHS, and if so, was that connected to a change of direction by the agency, which a few years ago began assessing and separating child-abuse cases considered to carry a high risk to children's safety from those considered to be of low risk. The low-risk ones, including some neglect cases, are not subjected to the sorts of child-abuse investigations that result in determinations of "founded" or "not founded." They are funneled to private providers to get the families services like counseling and parenting classes.

Was Natalie's case placed on the right track? Did it even make it into the system? There is no way to know what happened since DHS isn't discussing it, citing the criminal investigations under way. Critics allege there has been under-funding and under-staffing of the agency, resulting in workers in the field lacking experience.

I can't help thinking of the  parallels between Natalie's tragic death and the 1845 Hans Christian Anderson classic, “The Little Match Girl.” It told of a child’s New Year’s Eve in the streets of Denmark, shoeless, cold and hungry and avoiding home for fear of a beating. Looking in through windows on feasting and merriment, she huddled in an alley lighting matches for warmth, until they all were gone. And by morning, so was she.

But this is nearly 2017. Whether or not we knew Natalie, none of us can be at peace knowing a 16-year-old in our midst starved after asking repeatedly for help. We need a thorough investigation to see who or what systems failed Natalie.

A vigil for Natalie last week held by former schoolmates turned into a plea for forgiveness, as students talked of not having picked up on obvious signs of her distress. “We all needed to help her instead of criticize her,” one boy said.

So what can we do, besides push for transparency and accountability from our institutions? We can move around with eyes wide open and persist in getting help, even if it takes beating on brick walls. We can think of all children as our own and pledge not to let another one fall through the cracks.

2016 Dec 13