So many visits. So many reports and warning signs. Johnathan Lee Squires, not quite 2, lived in danger he couldn't understand, danger his mother and state officials couldn't seem to grasp. Now, less than a year after his death in a fire, lessons emerge - too late to save Johnathan.
By COLLEEN JENKINS
Published April 4, 2004
CRYSTAL RIVER - They found his tiny body in a closet.
Johnathan Lee Squires, wearing only a diaper, was covered with burns. He couldn't escape the flames that ravaged his family's Crystal River apartment on Sept. 4, 2003.
He died just a few weeks short of his second birthday.
Investigators later determined that Johnathan's oldest brother, who was almost 5, set the fire while their mother was out getting coffee at a convenience store. Two adults were at the apartment when the blaze broke out. They saved the oldest boy and another brother, age 31/2. But they didn't know Johnathan was in a bedroom, too.
Johnathan's death made headlines seven months ago. But now the story behind that fatal day is coming into focus. It is complex and tragic, the tale of a little boy and the network of adults that, to one degree or another, failed him.
During Johnathan's short life, a number of people tried to help or were available to help.
There was Carol Squires, his mother, struggling as a single parent to raise three young sons and battling medical problems of her own. Johnathan was her baby, the little boy nicknamed "Sippy Cup" by family members because he always seemed to be asking for a drink.
There was Shane Squires, his father, who lived apart from his sons.
There were investigators and supervisors at the Department of Children and Families, the agency charged with investigating child abuse and neglect, who investigated several complaints about the well-being of the Squires boys.
There were doctors, relatives, social workers, friends of the family.
Some did all they could. Some didn't do enough. Others never got the chance to help.
For those accused of doing too little, the repercussions have been severe.
A grand jury indicted Carol Squires, 24, on a manslaughter charge, saying she was culpably negligent in the death of her youngest son. She has pleaded not guilty and awaits trial.
DCF fired an investigator and severely reprimanded his supervisor. The department issued a scathing review of the way prior complaints of abuse and neglect at the Squires home were handled. It found, among other things, that the Squires children should have been removed from their mother's home at least four months before the fatal fire.
Until the criminal case against Squires is resolved, some of the personal questions surrounding Johnathan's death - and the circumstances leading up to it - likely will go unanswered. She declined to comment for this story, as did her parents.
But other parts of the story recently became much clearer.
Whenever a child dies while under DCF's watch, the state agency conducts a comprehensive death review. It retraces the steps of the people in an official capacity whose job it is to protect children. It explains what they did and what they didn't do.
DCF, according to state law, is required to open its books when it is determined that abuse or neglect contributed to a child's death. So that comprehensive death review, along with all documents DCF created or received regarding Johnathan, now are public.
The stack of paper stands several inches tall. It includes all kinds of documents, including copies of DCF e-mails, investigative reports and summaries of interviews that the Citrus County Sheriff's Office conducted.
Put together, the documents recount the perils Johnathan never had the chance to comprehend.
Concerns about conditions grow slowly
In May 2000, more than a year before Johnathan was born, DCF checked out a report of alleged neglect at the Squires home. The report regarded Johnathan's two siblings, whose names are withheld because of their ages.
Records indicate the investigator found no evidence of neglect. The case was closed.
On March 28, 2002 - when Johnathan was 6 months old and his siblings were 2 and 31/2 - a DCF investigator showed up at his day care center.
Someone - records don't say who - complained that the child and his brothers had been exposed to alcohol or drugs, had been confined or punished in a bizarre manner, and were being medically neglected and sexually molested.
One of the children, the reporter said, smelled like a goat.
But that's not what DCF found. The home was clean enough. The investigator didn't see any blatant safety hazards. There was plenty of food.
The boys' pediatrician, who had seen all three recently, explained the clear, mucus-like substance coming from the eldest child's bottom. The boy had a rash, and the doctor had prescribed a cream for it.
Johnathan didn't have any bruises or suspicious marks.
Carol Squires assumed someone was out to get her. But she consented to a random drug screen. It came back negative.
She admitted her oldest boy - the one who eventually would set the fatal fire in September 2003 - had escaped from the apartment several times by climbing out a window. The investigator told her to install proper window latches.
To the investigator, the signs pointed to the classic case of a young, single mother overwhelmed with caring for three active boys. Carol had split from her husband, Shane, and had custody of the children.
She was trying, but she needed some extra guidance.
He referred her to the Nurturing Program, a 16-week program offered by the University of Florida's Child Abuse Prevention Project. The program provides families with a skilled educator who works to strengthen parenting skills and foster a healthier home life.
With that, the department closed its case on June 4, 2002.
After Johnathan died, and DCF reviewed how it had worked with the Squires family, officials found the referral to be appropriate. The lack of evidence of maltreatment made removing the children from the home unnecessary, and the Nurturing Program typically had a high rate of success.
That is, if families stick with it. Carol Squires dropped out after just two months.
DCF would be back one year later.
A young boy, fascinated by fire
The call came May 16, 2003. Someone - again, records don't say who - alerted DCF that one of the Squires boys had been burned. The person also suspected the children were inadequately supervised.
DCF dispatched a different investigator, Hiram Agosto, to check out the allegations.
He found a troubling new development: The eldest child, now 41/2, had set a string of fires.
In February or March, he had burned a jacket and other clothing in the kitchen. No one was hurt.
In April, he started a fire in a clothes basket with his mother's lighter. Carol Squires was outside playing with the other two kids. Her boyfriend put out the flames.
In May, things got even worse. Carol Squires and her middle son were in the den sleeping, she on the couch, he on the love seat. Terrified cries awoke her. The oldest boy had set fire to his 3-year-old brother's blanket, burning his foot. He was treated in the emergency room.
Agosto learned those details through interviews with Carol Squires and her mother, Katie McMullen, who was taking care of the kids temporarily. The reason: Her daughter was taking heavy prescription medication after undergoing surgery and was having trouble supervising the boys properly.
The investigator was impressed by this strong family support.
In a key move that DCF would later criticize, Agosto decided not to remove the children from the house or order any formal intervention. Instead, he sanctioned an informal agreement that sent the 41/2-year-old boy - the one who had set the fires - to live full time with his maternal grandparents.
None of the kids had any developmental or emotional problems that heightened their vulnerability, Agosto wrote in his report, and neither the mother nor grandmother had a criminal history.
The arrangement with the grandparents seemed to be a suitable fix.
He took no further action and closed the case June 23, 2003, despite noting in his log that there had been "some indicators of burns/scalds based on the physical evidence" and "also some indicators of inadequate supervision."
But it wouldn't be long before DCF came knocking again.
A new abuse report, long on specifics
On Aug. 21, 2003, DCF received its fourth set of complaints about the Squires family. This time, the allegations - made on the agency's hotline for abuse reports by an undisclosed source - were specific and lengthy.
The children were being neglected, the reporter said. They were filthy and hungry and living in a "nasty" apartment. People were always passing out at their home after drinking too much.
Whenever someone mentioned food, the oldest boy said, "I don't want baby food anymore."
DCF sent out a different investigator, Carol Chodkowski. She found Carol Squires wearing a neck brace and taking medication for an injury she said stemmed from trying to pick up her middle son.
The investigator observed no other outward signs of trouble. The apartment was cluttered but safe. The children appeared clean and dressed appropriately for Florida's sticky summer. The refrigerator and pantry were well-stocked.
Carol Squires said people spent the night periodically after they had been partying too heavily to drive home.
She also tipped off the investigator to something else: Things had gotten worse with her oldest son.
He lived mostly with his grandparents, pursuant to the informal agreement Carol Squires struck earlier in the year with DCF. When he was at her apartment, she kept him out of the kitchen, the scene of one of his fires, thanks to the partial door with a high doorknob her father had erected.
But she never installed locks on the windows as suggested by the DCF investigator who had visited more than a year before. The oldest boy continued to escape.
On the morning of Aug. 16, a neighbor found the boy wandering near an apartment a block away. The neighbor called the Citrus County Sheriff's Office.
The small child told a deputy he was walking to a friend's house. His mom was asleep, and he had unlocked the front door and walked out.
The deputy brought him home. A friend who was spending the night at the apartment woke Squires, who explained her son usually lived with his grandparents. They were out of town, though, so he was visiting. None of the adults inside knew he had left.
Considering the situation an isolated incident, the deputy didn't alert DCF.
At Crystal River Primary School, where the oldest boy attended pre-kindergarten, a guidance counselor told DCF he believed the child had been diagnosed with some sort of mental health condition. The counselor elaborated, but that portion was redacted from the DCF records.
Carol Squires had her own short explanation for her son's problems. He was "not right," she told DCF.
The DCF investigator deemed the Squires children to be at "intermediate risk," a step up from the "low risk" that previous investigations found.
She did not seek to remove the children from the Squires home or begin a formal court action. Instead, she identified a need for added support and skills. Carol Squires was unemployed, lived in "substandard, subsidized housing" and remained overwhelmed even with just her two youngest boys at home.
Still, she was trying and was willing to accept help.
"She is protective and attempting to do the right thing for her boys," Carol Chodkowski wrote in her report.
The family seemed a good match for the Children's Home Society's Family Builders program. The program is designed for families whose children are at high or medium risk for removal because of abuse or neglect.
Providers are on call around the clock to help families obtain the services and support they need to provide their children with a safe environment. By Aug. 26, Chodkowski had referred the case to Family Builders, alerting them that the children's removal from the home was imminent unless such services were provided.
Family Builders made its first of several visits two days later. No cigarettes or lighters were seen inside the home. The Squires family was cooperative and seemed to be making progress, according to a Sept. 3 report.
Yet the oldest boy's behavior worsened. In late August, he brought a lighter to school for at least the fourth time.
No one knew about that, however, until after he ignited his next fire.
A day like any other ends in tragedy
Sept. 4 started out like most weekdays at the Squires' home: Apartment H2 at the Pelican Bay Apartments, formerly Greenleaf Forest Apartments, on West Arms Drive.
Carol Squires' oldest son, who would turn 5 in October, was still living with his maternal grandparents. As usual, Squires' father, Joseph McMullen, brought the boy to his mother's apartment about 7:15 a.m. so he could catch his school bus.
Carol Squires brought her son back to her bedroom and popped in a movie for him to watch while he waited.
Three other adults had spent the night, staying to help tend to the boys while Squires' neck healed. Squires decided she wanted a cup of coffee and persuaded one of the men to drive her to the Race Trac convenience store just 2 miles away.
Her friend thought it a little strange that she didn't bring the boys along. But Squires figured the children would be okay with two other adults in the apartment - even if they still were sleeping.
The oldest boy was the only one awake when his mother left about 7:30 a.m. She returned 15 minutes later to find devastation. The apartment was in flames. Her two adult friends were standing outside. So were her 31/2-year-old son and his older brother.
But Johnathan wasn't there.
The friends, fire officials learned later, thought they had gotten all the children out. When they went to sleep the night before, only two boys had been in the apartment. The oldest boy had been at his grandparents' home.
Carol Squires ran into the apartment through the front door. The flames pushed her back out.
She ran past the toy truck and inflatable children's pool in the yard, heading for the back of the home, where she could hear her youngest son screaming.
She had left Johnathan sleeping in her bedroom, the back room where his older brother had been watching TV. Frantic to bring him to safety, she would try to reach him through a window.
But the fire was too hot. Glass popped from the windows. She was too late. The little blue-eyed boy was gone.
In fire's wake, pieces come together
As firefighters doused the flames, the scrutiny began.
For the Sheriff's Office and fire marshal, this was a fatal fire to investigate. They quickly learned the oldest boy had set fire to the bed in which Johnathan was sleeping.
The boy told detectives he had used a yellow lighter he found near a pack of cigarettes in the den. He wasn't mad at his brother, he said. He hadn't meant to hurt him. But he had meant to start the fire.
It wasn't a situation he was comfortable discussing. During a taped interview five days later, he recalled some details about the fire for a detective but broke off the conversation suddenly and said he didn't want to talk about it anymore.
The detective noted the boy's obvious communication and concentration disabilities.
The middle Squires boy, age 31/2, bluntly summed up his older brother's actions.
"(He) burned my Bubba up and him dead," the child told investigators.
Carol Squires, who was treated at the hospital after the fire for hyperventilation, wasn't sure where her son had gotten the lighter. Everyone in the house smoked.
"I truly believe (he) has a problem up here," she told detectives, pointing to her head.
She started noticing signs of his troubles when he was just 11/2 or 2. He had a short attention span, made loud outbursts and had speech problems at first. Then, within the past year, his propensity for setting fires had begun.
The mother told investigators that her son's doctor had referred the child to Dr. Esther Gonzalez, a pediatrician who specializes in treating kids with behavioral problems. Carol Squires filled out the paperwork, but she never made an appointment.
She said she didn't blame anyone for the fire because "accidents happen." On the other hand, she admitted this one likely would have been avoided if she hadn't left the apartment.
Law enforcement agencies handed over their findings to the State Attorney's Office, which would decide whether anyone should face criminal prosecution.
DCF officials look for lessons
The fire also sent shockwaves through DCF's Citrus County office, which had been investigating the Squires family on and off for three years.
"A fire in the Greenleaf Apartments, Crystal River, has claimed the life of Johnathan Squires," Lester Smoot, a DCF official in Citrus, wrote in an e-mail at 11:51 a.m. on Sept. 4, just hours after the fire.
"The safety of the surviving children will be evaluated. If necessary, children will be sheltered."
DCF immediately began retracing its steps.
On Sept. 6, members of DCF's Citrus County family safety staff met to pick over the case, searching for instant lessons.
On Jan. 15, a group of officials from DCF, the State Attorney's Office and the Sheriff's Office gathered to conduct an official death review.
DCF's overall performance, according to the final report, wasn't encouraging:
For the March 2002 case, the agency determined the investigator did not have enough evidence to warrant court-ordered services. The Nurturing Program referral was appropriate, yet, when the program informed DCF that Carol Squires had dropped out, no one noted it in the case file.
Also, the family received no day care referral. The investigator made no mention of inadequate supervision, even though he learned the eldest son was escaping through the windows.
That child should have received a full behavioral assessment based on his actions, the report stated.
For the May 2003 case, investigator Hiram Agosto went against district policy when, with his investigation still open, he allowed the mother and grandmother to work out a voluntary agreement that called for the oldest Squires boy to stay with his grandparents.
Placing a child with relatives during an abuse or neglect investigation does not ensure a child's safety, DCF policy says.
Agosto failed to request a urine sample to make sure Carol Squires was not abusing drugs. He also did not address certain allegations about proper supervision for the children.
He knew the oldest boy was setting fires. He knew the boy was wandering the neighborhood unsupervised. But, the investigator essentially did nothing.
"The children should have been immediately sheltered (taken out of the home) and dependency action initiated," the report states.
For the August 2003 case, DCF determined that, again, it didn't properly recognize the urgency.
The referral to Family Builders was timely, the agency found, but inadequate.
Three prior reports had indicated "an escalating pattern of prescription medication abuse by the mother, inadequate supervision of the children and an apparent lack of concern on the mother's part for the serious issues involving (her oldest son's) behavior."
Sufficient grounds existed for court action, according to the report.
DCF fired Agosto, who had a less-than-exemplary performance record as it was. It also sanctioned his supervisor, Thomas Napolitano.
Beyond that, the death review included some recommendations:
The Citrus County family safety staff should brush up on its knowledge of district policies about voluntary placements and addressing all facets of maltreatment allegations.
The staff was encouraged to become better familiarized with the district's service options for children with developmental disabilities or mental health problems.
Officials recommended that a child welfare lawyer be assigned to high-risk cases to determine whether court action is warranted.
"Any time there's a child death, it's a tragedy," said Bill D'Aiuto, district operations and program manager in District 13. "We take these matters seriously."
Reminder of a little boy's tragic death
Life is pretty much back to normal at the Pelican Bay Apartments. Cars whiz past on nearby Fort Island Trail. The parking lot empties each morning as residents head to work. Mothers watch their young children play outside.
But apartment H2 still bears the marks of Sept. 4. The windows are boarded, the remnants of the scorched roof covered by a blue tarp.
Johnathan was buried in Fountains Memorial Park in Homosassa.
The two surviving Squires boys now live with their father. They are being monitored by a protective services counselor from DCF. The oldest boy, now 5, is getting treated for his behavioral disorder.
Carol Squires, who turned 24 the day she was indicted for manslaughter and child neglect with great bodily harm, is out of jail after posting bail.
On March 16, the entire Citrus County DCF investigative staff met to review the death report's recommendations. Their goal: Find ways to prevent a similar tragedy in the future.
In reality, that process had started months before.
"Could/should we have done things differently?" Lester Smoot asked fellow District 13 officials in an e-mail sent five days after the fire. "I think we all agree we could and should have.
" ... Hopefully, I will not have to send you another one of these memos."
