Coping with our new neighbor, the unspeakable

By MARY JO MELONE

© St. Petersburg Times, published November 23, 1999

The good news is that Patrick Joseph Richards does not live in my neighborhood.

The bad news is that a baker's dozen of other sexual offenders do, according to the records of the Florida Department of Law Enforcement. One of them lives about a block away. They're as young as 22, as old as 75. Eight are white. Five are black.

I could argue that none of them did anything as terrible as Richards, since they haven't been declared sexual predators as he has, for two sex batteries five years ago against a 15-year-old and two other related offenses.

My baker's dozen -- mine in the sense that they live in the same ZIP code I do -- are just plain old sex offenders, which suggests somehow I should be less worried than the people in Town 'N Country and Mango who haven't wanted Richards as a neighbor.

But 11 of the 13 were convicted of lewd and lascivious acts against children under 16. One man alone had five offenses to his name.

What counts as lewd and lascivious? It could be exposing themselves, or sadomasochistic abuse, or touching the breasts or genitals directly or through clothing -- a shopping list of ugly acts.

Two of the 13 also were convicted of raping adults.

So what should I do now? Try to burn down their houses? That's what happened to Richards' home right after he moved to Mango, east of the Tampa city limits.

This is no attempt to make Richards into a nice fellow.

Men like him are all over the place, and it's not possible to house them all on some island in the middle of the Gulf of Mexico.

A sex offender can only be declared a predator while he's serving his sentence, that is, either be in jail or on probation. If the 13 in my ZIP code don't qualify for the animal-sounding title "predator," it may be because they have served their sentences and haven't committed another sex crime -- which speaks to the fear that has driven the neighbors who turned on Richards when they learned of his past.

Or it may be because prosecutors haven't gotten around to asking a judge to declare them predators, which the law describes as "repeat sexual offenders, sexual offenders who use violence, and sexual offenders who prey on children." Most often, this also means sex crimes that could result in life sentences, are first-degree felonies, or, in the case of a rape and a homicide, that could result in a death sentence.

These distinctions aren't worth much. According to Richards' lawyer, Fred Lowe, the law doesn't even require the sex offender or his lawyer to be present when the designation of "predator" is made. That's what happened to Richards.

I know, I know, it's high time the victims got their rights back. But one-sided hearings? Said Lowe: "What judge in his right mind would not determine somebody is a sexual predator? It would be a political disaster."

I know, too, that sex offenders usually commit far more crimes than those for which they get arrested. Speaking as a woman, I know the permanent sense of vulnerability that comes from being always a potential target.

But none of this is an excuse for hysteria or vigilantism. Like it or not, Richards has a right to live in a house, have a job, rub elbows with other human beings.

I walk my child down the same streets where some of those 13 men live. I drive those streets, visit friends on those streets. I probably even get my gas and groceries from the same stores these men shop at. What can I do other than exercise good judgment?

I am glad to know of the nearby presence of these men. But while we're on the subject of disclosing the whereabouts of sex offenders, why don't we do it for drug dealers, big and small? Given the damage they do, they're not far from the level of the guy who fondles kids.

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