SHORTAGE OF JAILERS BURDENS COUNTIES STATEWIDE

Low Pay, Difficult Working Conditions Blamed

Dallas County jailer Pauline Olson reaches into a box and pulls out one
weapon after another.

There's a plastic comb that has been ground to a knife-sharp edge.
There's a soft-drink can that has been crumpled and pounded into a
point.

Jailers seized these shanks, among many others, in shakedowns of cells
at the Lew Sterrett Justice Center. The crude but effective weapons are
proof of the danger that county detention officers routinely face.

Officer Olson, a jailer for almost 20 years, trains new hires and said
she likes her job. But the county is having a tough time persuading
other people to join her.

Dallas County is facing one of its worst jailer shortages ever,
officials say. Many detention service officers -- as jailers are
officially called -- are working double shifts, and the Sheriff's
Department is spending about $116,000 a month more than budgeted on
overtime, officials said.

The department has 125 openings out of 970 authorized positions, Chief
Deputy Danny Chandler said. That's a vacancy rate of almost 13 percent.

"It's pretty alarming," he said.

Throughout Texas, counties are having problems hiring and keeping
jailers, and much of the reason is pay, said Terry Julian, director of
operations for the Texas Commission on Jail Standards.

"Traditionally, counties don't pay as much as cities or the state," he
said. "Some jailers in some areas qualify for food stamps."

Chief Chandler told county commissioners last week that reducing the
jailer shortage was the department's top goal in the coming fiscal
year. Several commissioners said they shared his concern.

"It's not a crisis situation, because people work overtime,"
Commissioner Jim Jackson said. But he added, "It's very costly to do it
this way."

Officials insist the shortage isn't creating safety problems.

The county received its annual accreditation from the Texas Commission
on Jail Standards in March and has been able to meet the requirement of
one jailer for each 48 inmates, said Assistant Chief Deputy Charles
McKinney.

But staffing is becoming more difficult at Lew Sterrett and the three
other Dallas county jails, he said.

"For a while, people liked overtime," Chief McKinney said. "But I
think a lot of them are starting to get burned out. Especially on the
weekends, it becomes somewhat difficult to find someone."

The jail system recently held about 6,700 inmates, 900 fewer than
capacity.

The Sheriff's Department is offering $50 to any employee who recruits a
jailer who completes the six-month probationary period. In addition,
the department lowered the minimum age for jailers from 20 to 19 last
month. It's considering dropping it to 18.

Other area counties face similar jailer shortages. Tarrant County, for
instance, is down 63 jailers out of 888, officials said. Thirteen
jailers have quit in the last two weeks.

"A lot of people just start working over there to get law-enforcement
training because they want to be a cop on the street," said Tarrant
County Commissioner J.D. Johnson. "But a lot of them also don't make
enough money to survive, so pay is an issue, too."

Collin County, which has 175 slots for detention officers, needs 12
jailers, officials said. Denton County, with 270 jailer jobs, is
lacking 52.

Concerned that low pay is hurting recruitment, Dallas County officials
have proposed an 8 percent raise for jailers and deputies for next
year.

A starting jailer in Dallas County now earns $22,248. Collin County, in
comparison, starts jailers at $23,712, according to a survey by the
Dallas County personnel department. Harris County pays $23,520.

At least 11 Dallas-area police departments pay starting jailers more
than the county does, the survey said. The high is $28,008 in
Richardson, it said.

"The salaries of the detention staff appear to be somewhat more off the
market average than the rest of county government," Dallas County Judge
Lee Jackson said.

Not only is pay low, working conditions are difficult.

Jailers are abused verbally, and sometimes physically, by inmates.
Being cursed is common. Jailers get spit on. Inmates hurl urine and
feces at them.

Some new hires walk off the job before completing their first day,
Chief McKinney said.

"Most people don't have an idea what the jail is when they go to
work,'' he said. "They get up there, and some just decide they're not
suited for it. The type of conditions they work under, the inmates
- -- they just can't handle it."

Devesh Amin, who was hired as a jailer in March, said the job requires
some adjustment.

"You don't see daylight except through the bars," said Mr. Amin, 27.
"You're stuck in there ... just like the inmates."

Still, jailers must keep their cool and treat inmates with respect,
Chief McKinney said.

"I tell them, 'You don't have to like what they've allegedly
committed, but they are human beings,'" he said. "Most of the time, if
you treat them as human beings, you're not going to have any problems."

Jailers wear uniforms and are licensed by the state, but they are
considered civilian employees, not peace officers. Many, however,
eventually become sheriff's deputies.

To become a jailer, a person must have a high school diploma or
equivalency certificate and not have been convicted of anything more
serious than a minor misdemeanor in the last five years. Applicants
must pass a lie-detector test, physical exam and psychological
evaluation.

A jailer job offers a good start in law enforcement, Chief Chandler
said.

"There's stability," he said. "There's a chance to really get started
in the criminal-justice system while obtaining your [college] degree,
if that's your pursuit."

Bill Aldrich, human-resources manager for the Sheriff's Department,
gives people interested in becoming jailers a detailed written job
description.

The duties, the literature explains, include searching and
fingerprinting inmates, escorting them to and from court, taking mug
shots and overseeing food service. Applicants must be able to "perform
personal defensive tactics against an inmate attack and restrain a
violent inmate."

The job isn't for everyone, Mr. Aldrich said.

"Talking about it is one thing, but when you go in the jail, see the
jail, smell the jail and hear the jail, it can be quite an awakening
for some people," he said.

Staff writers Nancy Calaway, Laurie Fox, Diana Griffith and Annette
Reynolds contributed to this report.