The ‘terrifying’ teen hit-and-run case shows: We still need locks

Every time they talk about getting rid of the youth jail, real life rears up and intervenes.

The day after King County Executive Dow Constantine announced the latest plan to try to go to zero youth detention — now hoped for in 2028 — Seattle police made a couple of arrests that severely tested that concept.

Two teenagers were hauled in and charged with intentionally running down pedestrians up on Aurora Avenue. Allegedly, they stole the cars and used them as deadly weapons, hitting and seriously wounding two women in the November night, while filming it all and laughing.

The victims were hit hard enough — one was tossed “rag doll” fashion, the police report says — that the cars were declared total losses by insurance.

What’s most alarming about the incident is how it was both random and intentional. It was like hunting, except for people.

Then there are the kids’ ages, which are difficult to process. The boy was 14, the girl 13. The girl’s voice on the video is squeaky like a small child’s — as it shouts to mow down an innocent victim.

This also wasn’t just a one-time night gone haywire. When police showed the photo around of a boy too young to get a driver’s license — he has since turned 15 — a deputy sheriff in Snohomish County instantly recognized him.

“I am 100% certain [who] the suspect in the photographs is,” the deputy said. “I have had numerous contacts with [him] in the recent past involving vehicle thefts, possession of stolen vehicles, eluding law enforcement.”

What is society to do with this?

What King County is proposing is that instead of continuing to use the 4-year-old youth jail in the Central Area, called the Patricia H. Clark Children & Family Justice Center, kids in this situation would theoretically be sent for a few days to a receiving or “respite center,” before either being returned home, or put in small group homes scattered around the county.

The premise is more on helping the kids than punishing them. But an advisory committee looking at how to close the youth jail couldn’t agree on whether any of these places would even have locks.

“I do not support adding locked doors to any facility created as part of the Care and Closure initiative,” one committee member, from Legal Counsel for Youth and Children, said in an advisory committee report.

Countered the judges of King County Superior Court: “The Superior Court is concerned that the recommendation does not take into consideration the possibility of serious and violent cases, nor public safety for the entire community.”

This was the sticking point for the judge when the Aurora car teenagers appeared in court this past week. Even the father of the boy told the court it’d be best if his son was locked up for a while.

“I know where he’s headed,” the dad told the judge. “He runs amok, all over, stealing cars, carrying a gun. … I fear for his safety. He is a threat to the community without proper supervision.”

Young as they are, the kids themselves seemed acutely aware of the impact they were having. Police say that in the middle of their alleged hit-and-run spree, the 13-year-old girl’s cellphone was used to make the following internet searches: “aurora streetwalker hit and run,” “king county ems dispatch,” “shoreline dispatch,” “stolen kia,” and “possession of firearm first degree.” Those queries were made before they allegedly went after the second victim.

Defense attorneys argued for the kids to be released — that they would get more support at home instead of in jail. This is the zero youth detention premise; that getting locked up makes whatever trauma a teen is going through worse.

“Study after study shows that youth incarceration is a system that does not work,” Constantine, the King County executive, said last month.

But in the teens’ case, the judge said it wasn’t just about them. A judge in Snohomish County already “took a risk” with the boy, sending him to home-based detention before, she noted. She considered electronic home monitoring, but decided it wouldn’t be enough.

“I don’t think there is any question that the respondent is a threat to public safety,” Judge Kristin Richardson said. “I am going to order detention. This is one of the most terrifying crimes I’ve heard of in a while.”

This keeps happening. As one part of county government talks about closing the jail, another part is using it more and more. For a time during COVID, the 110-bed jail housed as few as 12 kids. Lately though, the population has surged — in December it averaged 55, the highest since 2017.

Overall juvenile jail bookings were up 51% in 2023 versus the year before. Some months 70 teens were being checked in. Youth car theft has been rampant, and prosecutors filed serious juvenile felony charges nearly 40% more than they did pre-pandemic, in 2019. (These include armed robbery, sexual assault and shootings.)

All this is unfortunately overwhelming the new jail, with staffing shortages leading to lockdowns. School classes and other social services designed to make the place more therapeutic are frequently getting canceled.

“Zero youth detention” is turning out a lot like “defund the police.” Within the slogans lie legitimate ideas to reform the criminal justice system. But you’re not supposed to take them literally.

As it did with defund the police, reality is now protesting loudly. Programs with alternatives to incarceration are promising, but there’s also an obvious need at times for secure detention. Meanwhile, the new facility we already have, and paid $240 million for, gets neglected.

Teens using stolen cars to hunt down people is a powerful sign that something in society is fraying — that kids out there need more help, mentorship or mental health support. But it also offers a more mundane sort of corrective: We still need locks.