Sex offender law called unfair

Activists urge the state to adopt a tiered system, but some officers and legislators disagree.

By COLLEEN JENKINS
Published November 20, 2005

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She was 15. He was 19 going on 20.

Toby Wine and the young woman called their relationship love. The state called it a crime and charged Wine with a sex offense.

He got three years' probation. The young couple married and had a daughter.

Then Wine did something really stupid.

He had sex with his wife's 15-year-old friend a little more than a year later. Another criminal offense, another underage victim.

This time, the state deemed the Pasco County man among the worst of the worst:

Sexual predator.

Who is a public threat?

St. Petersburg activist Betty Price calls them the "Romeo and Juliet" cases. A young man gets sexually involved with an even younger girl. They think they are playing out the modern-day Grease, where losing your virginity in the back seat was more cool than criminal.

They don't associate themselves with those grizzly old perverts who get busted for sexually molesting children.

But in Florida, the law knows no such distinction. Both scenarios can land someone on the state's sex offender registry, either as an offender or predator.

Some people think that's exactly where all types of sex offenders should be.

"I don't have any sympathy for individuals who have sexual intercourse with a minor," state Sen. Mike Fasano, R-New Port Richey, said recently. "You should be a responsible adult and know who you are having sexual intercourse with."

Said Pasco County Sheriff's spokesman Kevin Doll: "You may have parental consent to date her. You may have parental consent to have sex with her. But the law says no."

Others, however, are pushing for Florida to adopt what they describe as a more sensible way of classifying those convicted of sex crimes. The approach, used by at least 10 other states, includes a risk assessment that separates low-risk sex offenders from their more violent counterparts.

The tiered system also benefits the public, supporters say, by giving people a clearer picture of those offenders who truly present a threat.

Without a risk assessment, says one St. Petersburg mental health counselor, "the Internet registry (of sex offenders) is totally ineffective."

Denise Hughes-Conlon, who is also president of the Florida Association for the Treatment of Sexual Abusers, said Florida's registry "just does not give you the information you need to keep your children safe."

Policy is broad to some, perfect to others

In October, the Central Florida chapter of the American Civil Liberties Union held a news conference in Orlando featuring three families caught on the hard side of the state's new, tougher laws against sex offenders.

Emilio and Amber Johnston of Inverness were among the participants, according to chapter president George Crossley. As an 18-year-old, Emilio Johnston was arrested for having sex with his underage girlfriend. He pleaded no contest to the charge and received three years' probation.

He also was designated a sex offender.

That label brought trouble this year, Crossley said, when authorities hauled in sex offenders registered in Citrus County as part of their investigation into who had killed 9-year-old Jessica Lunsford.

Detectives asked Johnston, now a 23-year-old father of three, if changing his children's diapers aroused him, Crossley said. The couple's home also was vandalized in the wake of Lunsford's death, which authorities allege was caused by convicted sex offender John Couey.

"(Johnston) in no way qualifies" as a sexual offender, Crossley told the St. Petersburg Times. The couple could not be reached for comment.

"This state has basically just lumped everybody together and a pox on all their houses," said Crossley, a retired radio broadcaster. His ACLU chapter has taken a particular interest in this issue, he said, because members think Florida's sex offender laws are becoming unjustly oppressive.

Before the Jessica Lunsford Act passed in May, those who study and provide treatment to sex offenders lobbied unsuccessfully for lawmakers to consider the risk assessment tools variously utilized by other states.

In New Jersey, for instance, sex offenders are separated into three groups based on their likelihood of committing a new sex crime. Only those in tiers two and three, who are deemed to be at moderate and high risk of reoffending, are included on the state's sex offender registry.

The online registry provides more specific information than Florida's, including the individual's conviction date, location of the crime and whether the victim knew the perpetrator.

Such information tells the public what it really needs to know, said Jill Levenson, who researches criminal justice policies for sexual violence as a professor at Lynn University in Boca Raton.

"Florida's policies tend to be broad," she said. "Broad policies dilute the public's ability to know who is really dangerous."

Levenson said the risk assessment concept is similar to the process through which car insurance premiums are determined. Companies use a person's age, driving experience and record to decide which drivers are at high risk for getting into an accident. Likewise, mental health experts take into account a sex offender's number and type of victims to assess who is likely to commit a new sex crime.

Studies have shown child molesters, particularly those who prey on boys, to be highly dangerous. But Levenson said a wide range of offense patterns and risk levels exists among sex offenders as a group.

"Nothing is perfect," she said. "But I think that we are pretty good at at least being able to screen and identify those people who are most likely to fall into the high-risk category.

Getting Florida law changed won't be easy. Cities across the state, including New Port Richey, have enacted laws that restrict how close sex offenders can live to parks, playgrounds, schools, libraries and day care centers.

In 2003, after the U.S. Supreme Court ruled states could post pictures of convicted sex offenders on the Internet, the court also denied a challenge from offenders who wanted the chance to prove they weren't dangerous in order to stay off the Web.

Those moves didn't surprise risk assessment supporters. Most sex offenses happen within families, they say, yet the majority of legislation is geared to the small population of offenders who are strangers to their victims.

Fasano said his heart goes out to parents who tell him stories of their sons getting caught with underage girls. But he opposes loosening the law's restrictions. Any consideration for the severity of a sex offender's punishment should be decided by the courts, he said.

"It is my opinion that they are all individuals who should be known as a sex offender," Fasano said. "People should be aware of their presence and what they have done in the past."

Predator status affects housing, employment

Wine's past haunts him.

In 1997, after having sex with an underage girl for the second time, Wine accepted the state's offer of 45 months in prison. His attorney argued Wine shouldn't be designated as a sexual predator because he wasn't a threat to society. The court disagreed.

After Wine's release, a licensed psychologist in Spring Hill concluded that he was unlikely to repeat his mistakes and did not fit the mold of a typical sexual predator or pedophile.

But multiple landlords have kicked Wine out when they learned he is a sexual predator. Employers don't want to hire him. At one job, colleagues posted his sex registry photo on a bulletin board. He left to save his dignity.

The lowest moment came when he realized his daughter, whom state child welfare workers had taken from his estranged wife because of neglect, would be better off if someone else adopted her.

"If she was living with me, how many neighbors would let their kids play with her?" he said.

Last month the 31-year-old faced another obstacle. A day after his latest move, he went to the DMV to update his driver's license as required. The difference between his new and old address was just two numbers. Wine said the clerk made a mistake and kept his old address on the license.

He didn't notice the error until he landed in the back of a deputy's squad car for failing to register his address within 48 hours of moving. He spent another couple of weeks in jail before his bail was reduced. He lost his home and job. This week, he will be arraigned on the charge.

"It's put me through a lot," Wine said of his predator status. "I'm just trying to have a normal life."

Times researcher Angie Drobnic Holan contributed to this story. Colleen Jenkins can be reached at 727 869-6236 or toll-free at 1-800-333-7505, ext. 6236. Her e-mail is cjenkins@sptimes.com