LEADERS: JAILS ARE MOST PRESSING BUDGET CONCERN

When Tommy Turner became LaRue County judge-executive in 1986, his
jail budget was $70,000. Today, it's $1.3 million.

Such numbers illustrate the most pressing financial problem facing
Kentucky counties today, many judge-executives say.

And for elected officials who find their tax revenue not nearly
keeping up with the skyrocketing jail budget, there doesn't seem to be
any escape.

"The jails are going to destroy small counties," said Estill
Judge-Executive Wallace Taylor, who, in an effort to save a little
money, got in hot water recently for using a jailed murder suspect to
do clerical work.

Although people complained about that, it's a safe bet that few
realize that 20 percent of Estill County's total budget is going to
its jail.

This year, Kentucky counties will transfer about $100 million from
their general funds to their jail budgets, said Vince Lang, executive
director of the Kentucky Judge/Executive Association.

That money otherwise could be used to repair roads, run animal
shelters, build water and sewer lines or parks. Instead, it's going to
take care of criminals.

County officials will be pressing the state soon for help in dealing
with exploding jail budgets.

On Thursday, judge-executives, magistrates and county commissioners
from all over Kentucky will gather in Owensboro for a conference.
Their first guests will be members of the legislature's Interim Joint
Committee on Local Government.

The county officials are collecting data showing how much each of
Kentucky's counties must contribute to its jail, and a list of
measures the state could take to ease their financial burden.

Between 1982 and 2001, local expenditures on corrections rose 455
percent nationwide, said Dag Ryen, an analyst for the Kentucky League
of Cities.

A variety of factors have combined to inflate jail budgets in
Kentucky, but the most significant is that more Kentuckians are being
booked into their local jails.

In the past, jails made money because counties made a profit on state
prisoners. In other words, the state paid counties more than it
actually cost to house the inmates.

But counties pick up the tab for local prisoners, and if their numbers
increase, there are fewer beds for the lucrative state prisoners.

That's exactly what has happened. Authorities have put more resources
into finding and arresting prescription pill abusers and amateur meth
lab chemists -- as the public wants them to. More drunks, repeat DUI
offenders, child-support deadbeats and people who violate emergency
protective orders are going to jail.

Other factors are at work, too. In some areas, judges are reluctant to
use potentially unpopular alternatives, such as home
incarceration.

County officials have another complaint: If someone commits a state
crime and waits two years for trial in the county jail, the county
pays the bill. The prisoner gets credit for time served, but the
county doesn't get reimbursed for housing the defendant, several
judge-executives noted.

In Pulaski County, the three defendants in the slaying of Sheriff Sam
Catron were incarcerated a combined 624 days while awaiting trial,
Pulaski Judge-Executive Darrell BeShears said. The county got nothing
for housing them.

"They didn't commit crimes against Pulaski County," he said. "Why are
we keeping them for the Commonwealth of Kentucky?"

Revenue shrinks, costs rise

Counties have lost other sources of revenue, too.

Some, such as Clark, used to make money by incarcerating juveniles,
but the state built five regional facilities to house them.

Years ago, some counties routinely exceeded their jail capacities and
collected the per-diem reimbursements while the state looked the other
way, BeShears said. But the state doesn't ignore that anymore.

And as revenues shrink, costs are rising.

A Grayson County inmate who needed dialysis ran up a $60,000 medical
bill. Chemo-therapy for inmates with cancer can cost $1,000 a week.
Few inmates have health insurance, so counties pay the bills.

When most jails buy prescriptions, they pay the same rate as uninsured
people.

"You're so afraid of liability, if somebody says they've got chest
pains, what are you going to do?" said Scott Judge-Executive George
Lusby. "You send them to the hospital, and somebody has to sit with
them all night."

To generate revenue, many counties have created new taxes or raised
existing ones, said Lang of the judge/executives association, and
about 60 counties now have occupational license taxes. But some have
run afoul of legislators who have signed no-tax pledges and oppose
even local-option taxes.

Even closing a jail doesn't halt the red ink.

Thirty-three counties have closed their jails and made arrangements to
house prisoners elsewhere. But they must pay those other counties to
do that, and they also incur transportation and some medical costs.

Nonetheless, Lang said, when he was judge-executive in Hart County,
"the best fiscal move I made was to close my jail."

Some do make money

A generation ago, cities had their own courts and jails, and the
county lockup probably resembled the one in Mayberry -- a jailer who
lived there, another staffer or two and a small population of inmates.

Jails are more professionally run now, but they cost more to build,
staff and equip than they used to.

Nonetheless, a handful of jails still make money.

One is in Grayson County, a small county (about 24,000 people) with a
large jail (462 beds). Besides prisoners from his county, neighboring
Edmonson County and the state, Jailer Joey Stanton takes inmates from
Indiana and the federal government. Both pay better than Kentucky,
which gives counties about $26 a day to house prisoners and $1.50 for
health care.

Indiana pays $35 and picks up their medical bills. The federal
government pays close to $40.

Former Fayette jailer Ray Sabbatine, now a consultant, says the
optimal jail size is 500 to 1,000 beds. He says no one can run a jail
of less than 200 beds efficiently -- but that's what many small
counties try to do.

Estill, for example, is still paying debt service on its tiny 18-bed
jail. Taylor says that if his jail were twice as big, it wouldn't cost
any more to run, because staffing would be more efficient.

Larger jails would help, and counties can also save money by
outsourcing medical and food services, said John Rees, commissioner of
the Department of Corrections.

Rees has set up a statewide contract for pharmaceuticals and a
contract for medical services with the University of Kentucky that can
save counties money, but few have been able to take advantage so far.

Ultimately, many county officials and other analysts say, the real
solution would be for the state to take over the jails.

"You pay the bill, the state tells you what to do," BeShears
complained. "It's a mixed-up system."