Point/CounterpointDebate newsworthy and other 'hot-button' topics here. If it can be debated, this is the forum for it. Can't be thin skinned - people will disagree with you. No flaming or personal attacks.
Does a child have a right to be protected from parents who are dysfunctional, neglectful, and addicted to drugs? Where do these parents' rights end and the abused children's rights begin?
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Toddler's world rooted in chaos
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Records, relatives and others provide a portrait of Ashton Parris' parents and a glimpse into the child's brief life
When child-welfare workers tried to move 15-month-old Ashton Parris back home last fall, they had their work cut out for them.
As parents, Wendy Harsh, 29, and Darrell Parris, 27, have a record of failure and neglect.
Harsh's history includes domestic violence, drug use, teenage pregnancy and small-time crime.
She had three children with Parris -- twins Ashton and Faith and their older brother, Michael -- and two from a previous relationship. The state had taken temporary custody of all five of her children at least once.
Parris' adult life has been marked by crime, homelessness and unemployment. He once shared an apartment with a 15-year-old runaway girl and was convicted of contributing to the sexual delinquency of a minor.
Harsh, who sometimes uses the last name Parris, admitted using methamphetamine while pregnant with the twins. When they were born prematurely in September 2003, the Department of Human Services took custody of them and Michael, then 22 months old.
Human Services tries to keep troubled families together -- even those ravaged by drugs or violence. Parents must commit to changing their behavior and may be required to take parenting classes or seek treatment for anger or substance abuse problems. A time limit is set on compliance, generally 15 months; after that, the state petitions the court to terminate parental rights.
Last summer, the state returned Michael to his mother, followed by Ashton in October. Faith remained in medical foster care.
As an infant, Ashton was so sensitive that he lived in a darkened room, his foster mother said, to "calm and organize" himself. He had trouble keeping food in his stomach and was still using a feeding tube when he returned home.
The state retained legal custody of Ashton, with visits from a caseworker and a public health nurse.
Within an hour of one of those visits, on Dec. 14, Harsh left their Milwaukie apartment to go grocery shopping with her mother. And Clackamas County's 9-1-1 center received a call from Parris that Ashton was bleeding from the mouth and not breathing.
Ashton was pronounced dead three days later of massive head injuries. The sheriff's office is investigating the death; no one has been charged. Parris is in jail on an unrelated parole violation; Michael was moved to a foster home.
DHS officials won't discuss the case. Harsh; her mother, Sharon Harsh; and Parris' attorney, Cindy Bunker, declined to be interviewed for this report.
From court records, relatives and others familiar with Harsh and Parris, it is possible to piece together a picture of two troubled adults and the world they created for Ashton in the final weeks of his life. Wendy Harsh
Wendy Harsh's parents separated when she was a child. Her mother was awarded custody in late 1983. The following summer, Wendy, then 8, moved to the West Linn home of her aunt and uncle, Debra and Sig Raethke.
Over the next two years, Wendy Harsh saw her mother about 20 times, Sig Raethke said in a 1986 affidavit. That year, Sharon Harsh was convicted of forgery and ordered to enter drug treatment.
The Raethkes put Wendy Harsh in a private school where she would get more supervision. Sig Raethke said in an interview last week: "She had had so much freedom before (she lived with us) that it . . . was difficult for her to follow rules."
At 12, Wendy went back to her mother.
Wendy Harsh had her first child, a boy, when she was 15. At 17, she had a girl.
By 18, she had separated from their father, had custody of the children and sought refuge at the Salvation Army shelter for battered women.
Wendy Harsh met Parris in 1999, and their relationship was volatile from the beginning.
Parris was put on three years' probation for assaulting Harsh that October.
He violated probation, was sent to jail and put on parole. Four days after Ashton's death, he was jailed for violating that parole; he failed to tell authorities he had moved in with Harsh.
Darrell Parris
As a child in South Carolina, Parris was "laid back and gentle," said his mother, Angela Vaughn. Schoolwork was difficult for him, she said.
"He was a shy big guy that always wanted to please everyone. He was always searching for a friend but had very few because he was so much bigger than the children his age," Vaughn said, "He tended to hang out with younger children and was especially fond of babies and animals."
Parris moved to Portland when he was 17, lured west by a girl he met when his family lived briefly in Oregon. By age 20, though, he had been cited for having sex with a runaway teenage girl, given 30 days in jail and placed on probation.
Parris periodically has lived at two downtown Portland homeless shelters since 1998. He committed petty crimes, stealing inexpensive items: nails, cigarettes, incense, a $15 backpack. Although he often was banned from stores, he returned and stole again.
He often missed court dates, violated probation and served short jail terms.
Parris said he suffered from depression and sometimes took prescription medication.
It is unclear how he supported himself, although he claimed to have worked as a janitor at an art museum, a telemarketer, security guard and at fast-food restaurants.
Parris joined the Job Corps in 1998 in Astoria and studied to be a nursing assistant. He quit after five months.
While in a Clackamas County work-release program in fall 2001, Parris exasperated probation officers -- one called him lazy -- because he failed to look for work or to participate in required counseling programs.
Twice during job-hunting expeditions, Parris visited the teenage girl involved in his sex offense, the reports said.
Harsh and Parris were convicted of forgery and identity theft after trying to cash bad checks in early March 2003. Reunited
Harsh said she quit meth just before the twins were born and later completed a drug treatment program.
Last year, she and Parris started to get help with parenting skills -- Harsh through Human Services, Parris through a Multnomah County program for people on parole.
As Harsh took steps to clean up her life, the state noted her progress and began the process of returning her children.
It is unclear how Parris fit into the reunification. Human Services retained legal custody of the children even though they lived with Harsh. Caseworkers knew Parris was visiting the home, and he was not barred from contact with his children.
At least one caseworker, Cindy Logan, was wary of Parris. Logan outlined her concerns in a March 31 e-mail, said Angela Vaughn, Parris' mother.
Logan said, "The plan for the return of Michael to (Parris') care changed due to his poor choices that would affect the health and safety of Michael. Both DHS and the court agree that (Parris) needs to show stability in his decision-making for an extended period of time and he has not done so recently."
Logan was concerned, in part, about Parris' inability to curb his criminal behavior.
Logan moved to another DHS job last spring, the e-mail said.
Since DHS has declined comment, it could not be determined whether Logan's misgivings were shared with the new caseworker. It also couldn't be determined whether Harsh was allowed to leave the children in Parris' care, as she did the day Ashton died.
Before Ashton's death, there were signs of strain in Harsh's apartment.
Neighbors noted Parris behaving strangely, talking quickly, sometimes patrolling the parking lot for discarded cigarettes.
Elvan Wilson, who lives across the street from Harsh, said, "He was always running off at the mouth, like he had a 350 engine at the back of his jaw."
Sharon Harsh, Wendy's mother, also began spending more time at the apartment. The two women had long had a sometimes-combative relationship.
At a juvenile court hearing last week regarding the children's status, a deputy district attorney raised unspecified concerns about "the use of alcohol and violence" at Harsh's Milwaukie apartment. The attorney also suggested that Wendy Harsh should get treatment for alcohol use.
An internal report of how the state handled efforts to return Ashton Parris to his mother is expected next week, followed by the independent review of how such decisions are made.
The report and review could affect the 7,800 children under current state supervision.
A hearing on the future of Harsh's two oldest children will be held in March. The future of her two youngest children, including Ashton's twin, will be reviewed at a hearing in April.
It is sad to see what these kids go through. My parents were foster parents for 22 years and I saw a lot of cases similar to this one. It really made me appreciate what i had, because I had things some kids will never see.