Joyce Staudenmaier was shot and killed by Clackamas County Sheriff's Sergeant Paul Steigleder II in 2004 at a during a welfare check.
Joyce was a client of Clackamas County Community Mental Health and a resident of Chez Ami, residential housing for people with severe and persistent mental illness.
Members of the Mental Health Association of Portland created this site as a complete repository of all articles and documents publicly available about what happened to Joyce Staudenmaier. If you have documents, photographs, articles or any republishable materials about what happened to Joyce Staudenmaier, please contact us by email at info@mentalhealthportland.org.
Items for this site began to be collected in the summer of 2007.
Monday, August 20, 2007
Thursday, November 16, 2006
Letter to the Editor
from Beaverton Valley Times
Another needless police shooting?
“Screams, terror and a battle” is the account of how a mother and her 8-year-old daughter were able to defend themselves against an unarmed intruder, while the Washington County deputies could not subdue the 5-foot-7-inch man without killing him (The Oregonian, Oct. 25).
I believe the story has several glaring problems, including the statement, “The police left the apartment, guns drawn. The man followed.” Say that again?
The police excuse for killing 20-year-old Jordan Laird Case is that he was trying to grab a locked rifle in a police car. There is no way to rebut or verify the speculation of the police about what Case was intending when he approached the police car.
It seems to me that the police always justify their killings by claiming some threatening action gave them reason to shoot to kill. Yet another life is lost because, I believe, the police do not have the courage to remain calm and professional in the face of erratic behavior by mentally disabled individuals: James Chasse, Lukus Glenn, Fouad Kaady, Jose Mejia Poot, James Jahar Perez, Kendra James, Adam Gantenbein, Joyce Staudenmaier, Thomas Genge, 12-year-old Nathan Thomas and many, many more unnecessary killings.
CARL REYNOLDS, Sherwood
Another needless police shooting?
“Screams, terror and a battle” is the account of how a mother and her 8-year-old daughter were able to defend themselves against an unarmed intruder, while the Washington County deputies could not subdue the 5-foot-7-inch man without killing him (The Oregonian, Oct. 25).
I believe the story has several glaring problems, including the statement, “The police left the apartment, guns drawn. The man followed.” Say that again?
The police excuse for killing 20-year-old Jordan Laird Case is that he was trying to grab a locked rifle in a police car. There is no way to rebut or verify the speculation of the police about what Case was intending when he approached the police car.
It seems to me that the police always justify their killings by claiming some threatening action gave them reason to shoot to kill. Yet another life is lost because, I believe, the police do not have the courage to remain calm and professional in the face of erratic behavior by mentally disabled individuals: James Chasse, Lukus Glenn, Fouad Kaady, Jose Mejia Poot, James Jahar Perez, Kendra James, Adam Gantenbein, Joyce Staudenmaier, Thomas Genge, 12-year-old Nathan Thomas and many, many more unnecessary killings.
CARL REYNOLDS, Sherwood
Thursday, November 9, 2006
Defusing crises dispelling myths
from The Oregonian, by Aimee Green
As Clackamas County sheriff's deputies file into the community meeting room at Chez Ami Apartments, a 40-unit residence for people with mental illnesses, residents eye them carefully.
Two years ago deputies responding to a call of a resident disturbing the peace shot and killed the woman after she charged them with a knife. The residents, a Clackamas County mental health worker has advised the deputies, are still a little on edge.
The visit is part of the sheriff's office's third semiannual training devoted to teaching officers how to better handle encounters involving people who are mentally ill, who often don't respond well to traditional police commands and techniques and who might act unpredictably at times of crisis.
The sessions begins.
A woman with ice-blue eyes and bangs pinned back with a sparkly clip asks the deputies why they have to carry guns. Guns, she says, petrify her. She's seen what police do with them on TV.
The police officers assure her they use their guns only in true emergencies --not like the actors on TV.
Another resident wants to know whether police stereotype mentally ill people.
"Do you automatically put us in a box?" she asks.
"Do you think mentally ill people have hotter tempers than other people?" asks another.
And another resident chimes in: "Don't you have a code --1151 or something --to refer to us?"
"It's 1234," answers one of the deputies, adding that the categorization is only used so police can better help the person in mental crisis. "The police officer will hear that and start asking questions: 'How are you doing?' 'What do you need?' "
By the end of the exchange, the room appears to have warmed some. The residents appear a little more relaxed, and the police officers, too.
The training --known as Crisis Intervention Training --was held late last month. It is the third since Clackamas County Sheriff Craig Roberts took office in January 2005 and said his office must better equip deputies to deal with the increasing number of calls about people in mental crisis.
Roberts said he recognized the need a few years ago as a detective when he responded to the call near Oregon 212 in the Boring area. Roberts showed up to find a suicidal man who'd doused himself with two cans of gasoline and was holding a cigarette lighter.
"I thought 'This is absurd,' " said Roberts, realizing he didn't have training to draw upon. Roberts was able to talk the man into surrendering but felt he was grasping for what to say or do.
Jail data show that as many as 28 percent of Clackamas County Jail inmates have a diagnosed mental illness. But officials say the true percentage of inmates who have mental illnesses --diagnosed or not --is probably much higher.
Sgt. Nick Watt, who helped developed the crisis intervention course, estimates that 50 percent of the calls he responds to involve someone with mental health issues a suicidal person, a car thief on mind-altering methamphetamine, or a combative person yelling at anyone who passes by.
The dangers of police encounters with mentally ill people have been highlighted recently by high-profile incidents in the Portland area, including the September death in police custody of James P. Chasse Jr., a man police thought was on drugs or drunk but who actually suffered from schizophrenia.
In Clackamas County, there have been several incidents in which police shot and killed people acting irrationally or exhibiting mental problems --including Clint Carey, a 24-year-old Carver man who in 2005 duct-taped a knife to his hand and then charged at deputies; Fouad Kaady, a 27-year-old Gresham man who was reportedly growling, naked and non-compliant to police commands in 2005; and Joyce Staudenmaier, the Chez Ami resident shot in 2004, who had battled schizophrenia for nearly three decades.
Clackamas County's 40-hour class teaches participants about the gamut of mental illnesses and the drugs used to treat them. Participants hear mental health experts' advice on how police should approach and speak to people with mental disorders. They also act out scenarios they might encounter in the field.
Portland, and in more recent years, Washington and Marion counties, also have crisis intervention training. Portland Mayor Tom Potter recently said he wants every patrol officer on the Portland Police force to go through the city's 40-hour course, which during the past 12 years has been voluntary.
And starting in January, the state's police academy will increase classroom instruction on how to interact with mentally ill people from three hours to 12. Students seeking a basic police officer certification also will undergo eight to 10 hours of scenario-based training.
In Clackamas County, 75 members of law enforcement --including about three dozen sheriff's deputies and three dozen officers from police departments including Lake Oswego, Oregon City, Canby and Sandy --have been through the sheriff's training. Roberts said his goal is to train all 91 of his patrol deputies in the next few years. So far, he's about a third of the way there.
Sharing experiences
After a few days of intensive classroom training, the Clackamas County class breaks into small groups to tour apartments and group homes of people with mental illnesses; Portland Adventist's psychiatric ward, where police often bring people who are threatening to harm themselves or others; and the Hooper detox center in Portland, where police drop off people intoxicated by drugs or alcohol.
The visits give officers opportunities to interact with people with mental illnesses and those who treat them.
A Milwaukie group home manager tells visiting officers that it's a good idea to turn off overhead lights and sirens when responding to incidents at her group home. Lights and sirens can stir bad memories.
A woman who suffers from depression tells officers that she doesn't like handcuffs because they make her feel like a criminal. And a man tells officers that a little bit of leeway goes a long way with him --he still remembers the officer who let him keep his chewing tobacco in his mouth as he was driving to jail.
At the Chez Ami Apartments, resident Susan Funk tells the deputies that she's happy to talk to them about her police encounters because she wants them to see what she's like 80 percent of the year.
"You only know me when I'm freaking out, and that's why I come to these (trainings)," says Funk, 40, who was diagnosed 17 years ago with bipolar disorder.
Funk is clear-headed, witty and pointed in her conversation with deputies. She says if they happen to encounter her on a bad day, they should try to treat her with respect. She doesn't respond well to harsh commands or force.
"Try to be nice to me if you can," she said. "Try not to corner me. Because that would make me feel like I want to fight and struggle."
Funk also shares her take on the small number of police encounters that go bad.
"It's not only a failure of police," Funk says. "It's also a failure of family, the community and the mental health staff who have not been able to intervene."
Not just a police issue
Funk's statements about mental health officials, family and friends stepping in before a person with mental illness reaches a state of crisis ring true with Watt, who helped develop the class. Watt, the Clackamas sergeant who helped develop the program, says that clearly many people who need help aren't getting or seeking the help --and police are the ones called at the last minute when mentally ill people act out in troubling ways.
Officers can't force a mentally ill person to seek treatment unless that person is presenting a safety threat. In those cases, police try to find a hospital placement, but Watt says too often beds at Portland-area hospitals are full. Once, Watt says, the only bed he could find for an emotionally disturbed person was in Roseburg, 175 miles south.
What's more, admittance to a hospital for psychiatric help might only be a short-term fix, because psychiatric staff release the person once the immediate threat has passed. Too often, mental health experts say, people refuse additional treatment.
Police and mental health officials attribute the rise in mental health-related calls to a fundamental change in philosophy about how to treat people. People with severe mental illnesses used to be institutionalized, said Jessica Leitner, program manager for the county's behavioral health division.
But closing Dammasch State Hospital in the mid-1990s signaled a change in that philosophy in Oregon: Mental health experts came to believe that people with mental health issues were best placed in smaller community treatment facilities, group homes or their own homes.
Having more people with mental health issues living in the community, however, makes contacts with local police more likely.
Eric Cederholm, who has been diagnosed with chronic depression and post-traumatic stress disorder, was eager to talk to crisis-intervention class participants during their visit to his Milwaukie group home. He wants to offer them support.
While training is good, he said, he wants them to know that they won't always be able to talk a mentally ill person through a crisis.
Cederholm said he was determined to die in June 2005 when he pointed a gun at a Milwaukie Police officer, and the officer shot him in the arm, narrowly missing his chest. He still has the scar.
"I was hell-bent," Cederholm tells the class participants. "Some poor (guy) had to shoot me. I'm sure it ruined his day."
As Clackamas County sheriff's deputies file into the community meeting room at Chez Ami Apartments, a 40-unit residence for people with mental illnesses, residents eye them carefully.
Two years ago deputies responding to a call of a resident disturbing the peace shot and killed the woman after she charged them with a knife. The residents, a Clackamas County mental health worker has advised the deputies, are still a little on edge.
The visit is part of the sheriff's office's third semiannual training devoted to teaching officers how to better handle encounters involving people who are mentally ill, who often don't respond well to traditional police commands and techniques and who might act unpredictably at times of crisis.
The sessions begins.
A woman with ice-blue eyes and bangs pinned back with a sparkly clip asks the deputies why they have to carry guns. Guns, she says, petrify her. She's seen what police do with them on TV.
The police officers assure her they use their guns only in true emergencies --not like the actors on TV.
Another resident wants to know whether police stereotype mentally ill people.
"Do you automatically put us in a box?" she asks.
"Do you think mentally ill people have hotter tempers than other people?" asks another.
And another resident chimes in: "Don't you have a code --1151 or something --to refer to us?"
"It's 1234," answers one of the deputies, adding that the categorization is only used so police can better help the person in mental crisis. "The police officer will hear that and start asking questions: 'How are you doing?' 'What do you need?' "
By the end of the exchange, the room appears to have warmed some. The residents appear a little more relaxed, and the police officers, too.
The training --known as Crisis Intervention Training --was held late last month. It is the third since Clackamas County Sheriff Craig Roberts took office in January 2005 and said his office must better equip deputies to deal with the increasing number of calls about people in mental crisis.
Roberts said he recognized the need a few years ago as a detective when he responded to the call near Oregon 212 in the Boring area. Roberts showed up to find a suicidal man who'd doused himself with two cans of gasoline and was holding a cigarette lighter.
"I thought 'This is absurd,' " said Roberts, realizing he didn't have training to draw upon. Roberts was able to talk the man into surrendering but felt he was grasping for what to say or do.
Jail data show that as many as 28 percent of Clackamas County Jail inmates have a diagnosed mental illness. But officials say the true percentage of inmates who have mental illnesses --diagnosed or not --is probably much higher.
Sgt. Nick Watt, who helped developed the crisis intervention course, estimates that 50 percent of the calls he responds to involve someone with mental health issues a suicidal person, a car thief on mind-altering methamphetamine, or a combative person yelling at anyone who passes by.
The dangers of police encounters with mentally ill people have been highlighted recently by high-profile incidents in the Portland area, including the September death in police custody of James P. Chasse Jr., a man police thought was on drugs or drunk but who actually suffered from schizophrenia.
In Clackamas County, there have been several incidents in which police shot and killed people acting irrationally or exhibiting mental problems --including Clint Carey, a 24-year-old Carver man who in 2005 duct-taped a knife to his hand and then charged at deputies; Fouad Kaady, a 27-year-old Gresham man who was reportedly growling, naked and non-compliant to police commands in 2005; and Joyce Staudenmaier, the Chez Ami resident shot in 2004, who had battled schizophrenia for nearly three decades.
Clackamas County's 40-hour class teaches participants about the gamut of mental illnesses and the drugs used to treat them. Participants hear mental health experts' advice on how police should approach and speak to people with mental disorders. They also act out scenarios they might encounter in the field.
Portland, and in more recent years, Washington and Marion counties, also have crisis intervention training. Portland Mayor Tom Potter recently said he wants every patrol officer on the Portland Police force to go through the city's 40-hour course, which during the past 12 years has been voluntary.
And starting in January, the state's police academy will increase classroom instruction on how to interact with mentally ill people from three hours to 12. Students seeking a basic police officer certification also will undergo eight to 10 hours of scenario-based training.
In Clackamas County, 75 members of law enforcement --including about three dozen sheriff's deputies and three dozen officers from police departments including Lake Oswego, Oregon City, Canby and Sandy --have been through the sheriff's training. Roberts said his goal is to train all 91 of his patrol deputies in the next few years. So far, he's about a third of the way there.
Sharing experiences
After a few days of intensive classroom training, the Clackamas County class breaks into small groups to tour apartments and group homes of people with mental illnesses; Portland Adventist's psychiatric ward, where police often bring people who are threatening to harm themselves or others; and the Hooper detox center in Portland, where police drop off people intoxicated by drugs or alcohol.
The visits give officers opportunities to interact with people with mental illnesses and those who treat them.
A Milwaukie group home manager tells visiting officers that it's a good idea to turn off overhead lights and sirens when responding to incidents at her group home. Lights and sirens can stir bad memories.
A woman who suffers from depression tells officers that she doesn't like handcuffs because they make her feel like a criminal. And a man tells officers that a little bit of leeway goes a long way with him --he still remembers the officer who let him keep his chewing tobacco in his mouth as he was driving to jail.
At the Chez Ami Apartments, resident Susan Funk tells the deputies that she's happy to talk to them about her police encounters because she wants them to see what she's like 80 percent of the year.
"You only know me when I'm freaking out, and that's why I come to these (trainings)," says Funk, 40, who was diagnosed 17 years ago with bipolar disorder.
Funk is clear-headed, witty and pointed in her conversation with deputies. She says if they happen to encounter her on a bad day, they should try to treat her with respect. She doesn't respond well to harsh commands or force.
"Try to be nice to me if you can," she said. "Try not to corner me. Because that would make me feel like I want to fight and struggle."
Funk also shares her take on the small number of police encounters that go bad.
"It's not only a failure of police," Funk says. "It's also a failure of family, the community and the mental health staff who have not been able to intervene."
Not just a police issue
Funk's statements about mental health officials, family and friends stepping in before a person with mental illness reaches a state of crisis ring true with Watt, who helped develop the class. Watt, the Clackamas sergeant who helped develop the program, says that clearly many people who need help aren't getting or seeking the help --and police are the ones called at the last minute when mentally ill people act out in troubling ways.
Officers can't force a mentally ill person to seek treatment unless that person is presenting a safety threat. In those cases, police try to find a hospital placement, but Watt says too often beds at Portland-area hospitals are full. Once, Watt says, the only bed he could find for an emotionally disturbed person was in Roseburg, 175 miles south.
What's more, admittance to a hospital for psychiatric help might only be a short-term fix, because psychiatric staff release the person once the immediate threat has passed. Too often, mental health experts say, people refuse additional treatment.
Police and mental health officials attribute the rise in mental health-related calls to a fundamental change in philosophy about how to treat people. People with severe mental illnesses used to be institutionalized, said Jessica Leitner, program manager for the county's behavioral health division.
But closing Dammasch State Hospital in the mid-1990s signaled a change in that philosophy in Oregon: Mental health experts came to believe that people with mental health issues were best placed in smaller community treatment facilities, group homes or their own homes.
Having more people with mental health issues living in the community, however, makes contacts with local police more likely.
Eric Cederholm, who has been diagnosed with chronic depression and post-traumatic stress disorder, was eager to talk to crisis-intervention class participants during their visit to his Milwaukie group home. He wants to offer them support.
While training is good, he said, he wants them to know that they won't always be able to talk a mentally ill person through a crisis.
Cederholm said he was determined to die in June 2005 when he pointed a gun at a Milwaukie Police officer, and the officer shot him in the arm, narrowly missing his chest. He still has the scar.
"I was hell-bent," Cederholm tells the class participants. "Some poor (guy) had to shoot me. I'm sure it ruined his day."
Thursday, April 14, 2005
Clackamas County Trains Officers on Dealing With Mentally Ill
from The Oregonian, Emily Tsao
When business owners along Southeast McLoughlin Boulevard complained about a man trespassing on their property, the Clackamas County Sheriff's Office stepped in to help.
Normally, deputies would have made an arrest. But in this case, the man was mentally ill and didn't seem to understand the idea of trespassing.
So the deputies tried to think of a way to reach out to him. They learned that the man processed information visually. "He had an incredible memory for things he had seen," Deputy Angela Brandenburg said.
So instead of telling the man that trespassing was wrong, Brandenburg and Deputy Jeff Murray showed him: They gave him a tour of the Clackamas County Jail.
The two deputies are part of the newly formed Crisis Intervention Team, a group of Clackamas County law enforcement officers trained to deal with mentally ill people. The program teaches officers how to recognize signs of mental illness and developmental disabilities, and how to best handle those cases.
About a third of the calls to the sheriff's office deal with mentally ill people, said Sgt. Nick Watt, who helped set up the crisis team program. From suicide attempts to disorderly conduct reports to welfare checks, many times, officers are the first to respond.
While many such cases are resolved peacefully, the county has its share of high-profile incidents, including the shooting of sheriff's Sgt. Damon Coates by a mentally ill teenager in 2003 and the fatal police shooting of a mentally ill woman, Joyce Staudenmaier, the following year.
Watt and others at the sheriff's office said the mental health program was not established in response to a particular incident but because of the constant contact officers have with people who are mentally ill.
Jail officials have said they've seen an increase in mentally ill inmates as health programs that help the mentally ill see their budgets cut. Officers have said they are dealing with more calls related to mental illness.
The sheriff's office has been working on a crisis intervention program for more than a year, and it has been a priority of Sheriff Craig Roberts, who took office in January, Watt said.
The Portland Police Bureau and Washington County Sheriff's Office have similar training.
Watt worked closely with Jessica Leitner, a senior program manager at Clackamas County's Community Mental Health Center, to establish the program. Both Watt and Leitner said the team strengthened the partnership between the sheriff's office and the mental health center.
In February, the sheriff's office graduated its first team of 12 sheriff's deputies and 13 officers from Lake Oswego, West Linn, Canby, Gladstone, Milwaukie and Molalla police agencies and county Community Corrections.
For one week in February, officers underwent 40 hours of training, mostly from mental health workers, and met with mentally ill individuals who shared their experiences when they were confronted by police.
Officers learned to better distinguish whether a person was intoxicated or suffering from hallucinations.
The participants also toured sites including the Portland campus of the Oregon State Hospital, the Hooper Memorial Detoxification Center in Portland and the Chez Ami apartments in Clackamas where Staudenmaier was killed.
Watt and Leitner said they are working to graduate another Crisis Intervention Team in the fall. They also are working to establish a shorter course to expose more officers to the training.
Before this training effort, the Clackamas County Sheriff's Office last offered a four-hour session about three years ago, Watt said.
The trained team members will respond to requests from mental health workers or emergency dispatchers.
The sheriff's office is working on a system to track calls handled by the crisis team, Watt said. But he had no figures on how many calls team members have handled so far.
Even though the team is relatively new, it appears that the intervention is working. Since the jail tour, Watt said the sheriff's office hasn't heard any complaints about the man along McLoughlin.
When business owners along Southeast McLoughlin Boulevard complained about a man trespassing on their property, the Clackamas County Sheriff's Office stepped in to help.
Normally, deputies would have made an arrest. But in this case, the man was mentally ill and didn't seem to understand the idea of trespassing.
So the deputies tried to think of a way to reach out to him. They learned that the man processed information visually. "He had an incredible memory for things he had seen," Deputy Angela Brandenburg said.
So instead of telling the man that trespassing was wrong, Brandenburg and Deputy Jeff Murray showed him: They gave him a tour of the Clackamas County Jail.
The two deputies are part of the newly formed Crisis Intervention Team, a group of Clackamas County law enforcement officers trained to deal with mentally ill people. The program teaches officers how to recognize signs of mental illness and developmental disabilities, and how to best handle those cases.
About a third of the calls to the sheriff's office deal with mentally ill people, said Sgt. Nick Watt, who helped set up the crisis team program. From suicide attempts to disorderly conduct reports to welfare checks, many times, officers are the first to respond.
While many such cases are resolved peacefully, the county has its share of high-profile incidents, including the shooting of sheriff's Sgt. Damon Coates by a mentally ill teenager in 2003 and the fatal police shooting of a mentally ill woman, Joyce Staudenmaier, the following year.
Watt and others at the sheriff's office said the mental health program was not established in response to a particular incident but because of the constant contact officers have with people who are mentally ill.
Jail officials have said they've seen an increase in mentally ill inmates as health programs that help the mentally ill see their budgets cut. Officers have said they are dealing with more calls related to mental illness.
The sheriff's office has been working on a crisis intervention program for more than a year, and it has been a priority of Sheriff Craig Roberts, who took office in January, Watt said.
The Portland Police Bureau and Washington County Sheriff's Office have similar training.
Watt worked closely with Jessica Leitner, a senior program manager at Clackamas County's Community Mental Health Center, to establish the program. Both Watt and Leitner said the team strengthened the partnership between the sheriff's office and the mental health center.
In February, the sheriff's office graduated its first team of 12 sheriff's deputies and 13 officers from Lake Oswego, West Linn, Canby, Gladstone, Milwaukie and Molalla police agencies and county Community Corrections.
For one week in February, officers underwent 40 hours of training, mostly from mental health workers, and met with mentally ill individuals who shared their experiences when they were confronted by police.
Officers learned to better distinguish whether a person was intoxicated or suffering from hallucinations.
The participants also toured sites including the Portland campus of the Oregon State Hospital, the Hooper Memorial Detoxification Center in Portland and the Chez Ami apartments in Clackamas where Staudenmaier was killed.
Watt and Leitner said they are working to graduate another Crisis Intervention Team in the fall. They also are working to establish a shorter course to expose more officers to the training.
Before this training effort, the Clackamas County Sheriff's Office last offered a four-hour session about three years ago, Watt said.
The trained team members will respond to requests from mental health workers or emergency dispatchers.
The sheriff's office is working on a system to track calls handled by the crisis team, Watt said. But he had no figures on how many calls team members have handled so far.
Even though the team is relatively new, it appears that the intervention is working. Since the jail tour, Watt said the sheriff's office hasn't heard any complaints about the man along McLoughlin.
Tuesday, January 4, 2005
Clackamas: County Had Five Victims Last Year, Including an Elderly Woman
from The Oregonian,by Emily Tsao
The five Clackamas County homicide victims in 2004 include a mentally ill 49-year-old woman and an 82-year-old shot by her husband. In addition, the Clackamas County Sheriff's Office is investigating the death of a 15-month-old twin as a possible sixth homicide.
In 2003, Clackamas County also recorded five homicides.
2004's tally of homicides started in January when James Orlando Jolley, 79, and his wife, Frances, 82, were found dead in their pink ranch house in the 32000 block of South Ona Way near Molalla. Police think Jolley shot his wife and then himself. Both died of gunshot wounds to the head.
The couple had owned the Jolley Rexall Drug Store and another downtown drugstore, the now-defunct Bernie's Pharmacy. Their deaths shocked the community.
On May 3, Arturo Martinez-Navarro, 25, of Clackamas was found shot to death at the Pineview Apartments near the Clackamas Town Center. A second man, Juan Amaro-Benitez, 27, of Clackamas, was injured.
A Clackamas County grand jury indicted Richard Aguilar-Hernandez, 22, on charges of murder, attempted aggravated murder and assault. Mexican police arrested Aguilar-Hernandez on June 13. The Clackamas County district attorney's office is working to extradite him.
On July 20, Serapio Arce, 38, of Oregon City died at Legacy Emanuel Hospital & Health Center after being stabbed in the head a day earlier.
Police said he and another man had been arguing about Arce's ex-girlfriend in the 21400 block of Oregon 99E.
A Clackamas County grand jury indicted Brian James Chandler, 23, of Milwaukie on accusations of manslaughter and tampering with physical evidence. Chandler's trial is set for Jan. 18.
Police discovered the body of Mohamed Jabbie on Sept. 28 after neighbors at the Clackamas Village Apartments, 8800 S.E. Causey Ave., complained of an odor. Police said the 39-year-old who was found in an apartment, had been shot several times.
Clackmas County sheriff's detectives have named Michael Spencer Washington Jr., 32, as a person of interest in the case.
In September, a Clackamas County sergeant fatally shot Joyce M. Staudenmaier, 49, at the Chez Ami apartment complex, which served as home to people with mental illness. Staudenmaier had a history of schizophrenia.
Police said Staudenmaier lunged at Sgt. Paul Steigleder II with a knife in the apartment lobby before he shot her. A Clackamas County grand jury decided the shooting was justified.
The Clackamas County Sheriff's Office is investigating the death of 15-month-old Ashton Parris. Paramedics and police arrived Dec. 14 at the boy's home near the Clackamas Town Center to find the child bleeding from the mouth and not breathing. He was taken to the hospital and died three days later. Police have named no suspects.
His death came about a week after another high-profile child abuse case. Gov. Ted Kulongoski has since called for a review focusing on the child-welfare system in the Portland area.
The five Clackamas County homicide victims in 2004 include a mentally ill 49-year-old woman and an 82-year-old shot by her husband. In addition, the Clackamas County Sheriff's Office is investigating the death of a 15-month-old twin as a possible sixth homicide.
In 2003, Clackamas County also recorded five homicides.
2004's tally of homicides started in January when James Orlando Jolley, 79, and his wife, Frances, 82, were found dead in their pink ranch house in the 32000 block of South Ona Way near Molalla. Police think Jolley shot his wife and then himself. Both died of gunshot wounds to the head.
The couple had owned the Jolley Rexall Drug Store and another downtown drugstore, the now-defunct Bernie's Pharmacy. Their deaths shocked the community.
On May 3, Arturo Martinez-Navarro, 25, of Clackamas was found shot to death at the Pineview Apartments near the Clackamas Town Center. A second man, Juan Amaro-Benitez, 27, of Clackamas, was injured.
A Clackamas County grand jury indicted Richard Aguilar-Hernandez, 22, on charges of murder, attempted aggravated murder and assault. Mexican police arrested Aguilar-Hernandez on June 13. The Clackamas County district attorney's office is working to extradite him.
On July 20, Serapio Arce, 38, of Oregon City died at Legacy Emanuel Hospital & Health Center after being stabbed in the head a day earlier.
Police said he and another man had been arguing about Arce's ex-girlfriend in the 21400 block of Oregon 99E.
A Clackamas County grand jury indicted Brian James Chandler, 23, of Milwaukie on accusations of manslaughter and tampering with physical evidence. Chandler's trial is set for Jan. 18.
Police discovered the body of Mohamed Jabbie on Sept. 28 after neighbors at the Clackamas Village Apartments, 8800 S.E. Causey Ave., complained of an odor. Police said the 39-year-old who was found in an apartment, had been shot several times.
Clackmas County sheriff's detectives have named Michael Spencer Washington Jr., 32, as a person of interest in the case.
In September, a Clackamas County sergeant fatally shot Joyce M. Staudenmaier, 49, at the Chez Ami apartment complex, which served as home to people with mental illness. Staudenmaier had a history of schizophrenia.
Police said Staudenmaier lunged at Sgt. Paul Steigleder II with a knife in the apartment lobby before he shot her. A Clackamas County grand jury decided the shooting was justified.
The Clackamas County Sheriff's Office is investigating the death of 15-month-old Ashton Parris. Paramedics and police arrived Dec. 14 at the boy's home near the Clackamas Town Center to find the child bleeding from the mouth and not breathing. He was taken to the hospital and died three days later. Police have named no suspects.
His death came about a week after another high-profile child abuse case. Gov. Ted Kulongoski has since called for a review focusing on the child-welfare system in the Portland area.
Friday, October 29, 2004
Witnesses Recall Fear In Moments Before Shooting
from The Oregonian, by Emily Tsao
A Clackamas County deputy, workers and residents at the Chez Ami Apartments said they feared for one another's lives in the moments before the deputy shot and killed a mentally ill woman brandishing a knife.
One mental health worker locked herself in an office and hid under a desk. One resident who saw the ordeal said she feared the woman would stab the police officer and another worker.
The Clackamas County Sheriff's Office released their statements Thursday, about a month after a Clackamas County grand jury cleared Sgt. Paul Steigleder II of wrongdoing in the shooting of Joyce M. Staudenmaier, 49.
The shooting took place the morning of Sept. 3 at the Chez Ami Apartments, a complex near Clackamas Town Center for indigent people with mental illnesses.
Staudenmaier, who grew up in Lake Oswego, had been battling schizophrenia for nearly three decades. Friends and residents at the complex said she had been acting strangely months before the shooting.
Steigleder arrived at the apartments after Clackamas County Mental Health worker Martha Spiers requested police assistance to place Staudenmaier on a mental hold and bring her to Portland Adventist Medical Center.
Staudenmaier returned to the complex as workers were discussing her condition with Steigleder.
Spiers tried to explain to Staudenmaier what was happening, but she walked away and tried to return to her room, Steigleder told investigators.
Steigleder said he tried to tell Staudenmaier she could not go to her room. She then pulled out a knife.
Steigleder said he realized he was in trouble. "And it's like I'm going to get stabbed. I mean I'm like . . . way too close to her, and I'm like 'Wow,' " he told investigators.
As he tried to back away from Staudenmaier, Steigleder found himself backed up against a large glass wall. He said he drew his gun and told Staudenmaier to drop the knife. Staudenmaier swung at Steigleder once and then retreated to another section of the lobby.
Steigleder said he feared she would harm other people in the lobby and repeatedly ordered her to drop the knife.
"I thought she was going to kill that gal," Steigleder said. "She wouldn't drop the knife. And so I shot her."
Deputy Robert Weinert, who responded immediately after the shooting, found Steigleder bent down beside her saying, "Come on, Joyce, hang in there," according to police reports.
A resident who witnessed the shooting said she saw Steigleder start crying. "I felt sorry for him," Diane Millican told police.
Staudenmaier died in surgery at OHSU Hospital that morning.
Steigleder returned to work early this month and has resumed normal duties, said sheriff's spokesman Joel Manley.
A Clackamas County deputy, workers and residents at the Chez Ami Apartments said they feared for one another's lives in the moments before the deputy shot and killed a mentally ill woman brandishing a knife.
One mental health worker locked herself in an office and hid under a desk. One resident who saw the ordeal said she feared the woman would stab the police officer and another worker.
The Clackamas County Sheriff's Office released their statements Thursday, about a month after a Clackamas County grand jury cleared Sgt. Paul Steigleder II of wrongdoing in the shooting of Joyce M. Staudenmaier, 49.
The shooting took place the morning of Sept. 3 at the Chez Ami Apartments, a complex near Clackamas Town Center for indigent people with mental illnesses.
Staudenmaier, who grew up in Lake Oswego, had been battling schizophrenia for nearly three decades. Friends and residents at the complex said she had been acting strangely months before the shooting.
Steigleder arrived at the apartments after Clackamas County Mental Health worker Martha Spiers requested police assistance to place Staudenmaier on a mental hold and bring her to Portland Adventist Medical Center.
Staudenmaier returned to the complex as workers were discussing her condition with Steigleder.
Spiers tried to explain to Staudenmaier what was happening, but she walked away and tried to return to her room, Steigleder told investigators.
Steigleder said he tried to tell Staudenmaier she could not go to her room. She then pulled out a knife.
Steigleder said he realized he was in trouble. "And it's like I'm going to get stabbed. I mean I'm like . . . way too close to her, and I'm like 'Wow,' " he told investigators.
As he tried to back away from Staudenmaier, Steigleder found himself backed up against a large glass wall. He said he drew his gun and told Staudenmaier to drop the knife. Staudenmaier swung at Steigleder once and then retreated to another section of the lobby.
Steigleder said he feared she would harm other people in the lobby and repeatedly ordered her to drop the knife.
"I thought she was going to kill that gal," Steigleder said. "She wouldn't drop the knife. And so I shot her."
Deputy Robert Weinert, who responded immediately after the shooting, found Steigleder bent down beside her saying, "Come on, Joyce, hang in there," according to police reports.
A resident who witnessed the shooting said she saw Steigleder start crying. "I felt sorry for him," Diane Millican told police.
Staudenmaier died in surgery at OHSU Hospital that morning.
Steigleder returned to work early this month and has resumed normal duties, said sheriff's spokesman Joel Manley.
Wednesday, September 29, 2004
Jury Rules Sergeant Was Justified In Fatal Shooting
from The Oregonian
Clackamas County grand jury found Tuesday that a sheriff's sergeant was justified in fatally shooting a mentally ill woman wielding a knife.
The ruling cleared Clackamas County Sgt. Paul Steigleder II, 41, of possible wrongdoing in the Sept. 3 killing of Joyce Staudenmaier.
Jacquelyn Staudenmaier, the victim's sister, declined to comment.
The 49-year-old woman was shot in the chest in the lobby of her residence, Chez Ami Apartments, a complex for mentally ill people near Clackamas Town Center.
"I am pleased with the findings of the grand jury in this matter," said Sheriff Pat Detloff, who said his department will conduct its own review.
"The investigation we were involved with . . . showed that it was a justifiable shooting and there were no other options open to Sgt. Steigleder other than use of deadly physical force," he said.
Steigleder, who had been placed on paid administrative leave, can return to work as early as today, Detloff said.
Joyce Staudenmaier grew up in Lake Oswego and attended a performing arts college in San Diego. She battled schizophrenia for almost three decades.
She had been talking to herself and disturbing neighbors in the days before mental health workers called the Clackamas County Sheriff's Office for help, police had said.
Steigleder arrived at the apartment lobby about 10 a.m. and was told that Joyce Staudenmaier was not in the building but could have a weapon. He called for backup.
Before backup could arrive, Staudenmaier came to the lobby and lunged at Steigleder with a knife, police said at the time.
The sergeant tried to back away but could not escape. He then shot her once in the chest.
Meanwhile, Detloff said his agency, in its review, will assess whether there is a need for additional training for officers in dealing with the mentally ill.
A three- to four-member board is expected to convene within 30 days. Detloff said he expected the findings of the review to be made public.
The Oregon Advocacy Center, a Portland-based group that works for the rights of the disabled, has requested that the state Office of Investigations and Training review the shooting.
Bruce Jenness, OIT acting director, said the office does not investigate police but does review allegations of abuse and neglect of patients in the mental health system.
Jenness said it was undetermined whether his office would investigate.
Clackamas County grand jury found Tuesday that a sheriff's sergeant was justified in fatally shooting a mentally ill woman wielding a knife.
The ruling cleared Clackamas County Sgt. Paul Steigleder II, 41, of possible wrongdoing in the Sept. 3 killing of Joyce Staudenmaier.
Jacquelyn Staudenmaier, the victim's sister, declined to comment.
The 49-year-old woman was shot in the chest in the lobby of her residence, Chez Ami Apartments, a complex for mentally ill people near Clackamas Town Center.
"I am pleased with the findings of the grand jury in this matter," said Sheriff Pat Detloff, who said his department will conduct its own review.
"The investigation we were involved with . . . showed that it was a justifiable shooting and there were no other options open to Sgt. Steigleder other than use of deadly physical force," he said.
Steigleder, who had been placed on paid administrative leave, can return to work as early as today, Detloff said.
Joyce Staudenmaier grew up in Lake Oswego and attended a performing arts college in San Diego. She battled schizophrenia for almost three decades.
She had been talking to herself and disturbing neighbors in the days before mental health workers called the Clackamas County Sheriff's Office for help, police had said.
Steigleder arrived at the apartment lobby about 10 a.m. and was told that Joyce Staudenmaier was not in the building but could have a weapon. He called for backup.
Before backup could arrive, Staudenmaier came to the lobby and lunged at Steigleder with a knife, police said at the time.
The sergeant tried to back away but could not escape. He then shot her once in the chest.
Meanwhile, Detloff said his agency, in its review, will assess whether there is a need for additional training for officers in dealing with the mentally ill.
A three- to four-member board is expected to convene within 30 days. Detloff said he expected the findings of the review to be made public.
The Oregon Advocacy Center, a Portland-based group that works for the rights of the disabled, has requested that the state Office of Investigations and Training review the shooting.
Bruce Jenness, OIT acting director, said the office does not investigate police but does review allegations of abuse and neglect of patients in the mental health system.
Jenness said it was undetermined whether his office would investigate.
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