JWB welcomes Dr. Barbara Morrison-Rodriguez as new Chief Evaluation and Innovation Officer

The Juvenile Welfare Board of Pinellas County (JWB) is pleased to announce the hiring of Dr. Barbara Morrison-Rodriguez in the position of Chief Evaluation and Innovation Officer. In her new position, Dr. Barbara Morrison-Rodriguez oversees JWB’s evaluation team and is responsible for developing, streamlining, and implementing program metrics across JWB’s portfolio. She also oversees JWB’s newest result area for Early Childhood Development, and plays a critical role in the Zero to Three Campaign. 

Prior to joining JWB’s executive leadership team, Dr. Morrison-Rodriguez served as President and CEO of BMR Consulting, LLC, since its founding in 2001. Her consulting was primarily focused with non-profit organizations and foundations in the Southeastern United States, as well as with federal agencies such as the Health Resources Services Administration (HRSA) and its grantee programs. In that role, she provided evaluation and accountability consultation and training for grantees of several foundations primarily in Florida, and has trained over 800 non-profit organizations in evaluation. Her areas of expertise include program evaluation, strategic planning, strategic grant making, program development, and Board development. 

In her 45 year career, she has been on the faculty of multiple colleges and universities, including Hunter College (CUNY), the Mt. Sinai School of Medicine (NYC), State University of New York (Albany), the University of South Carolina (Columbia) where she held an endowed chair in Social Welfare, and the University of South Florida (Tampa) where she was Associate Dean of the Florida Mental Health Institute. In her career as a civil servant, Dr. Morrison-Rodriguez served as Director of Long Term Care for the New York State Office for Aging and Associate Commissioner for Long Term Care and Geriatrics at the New York State Office of Mental Health.  She co-authored a text book on research methods and has published several articles in the areas of research, aging, child welfare, and services to racial and ethnic minority populations. She earned her MA and PhD degrees in Social Welfare Research from the Columbia University School of Social Work in New York City and her Bachelor of Arts degree in Sociology from Douglass College, Rutgers University in New Brunswick, New Jersey.  

Florida House Speaker: Rename Pinellas courthouse after Bernie McCabe

Florida House Speaker Rep. Chris Sprowls wants the county commission to rename the Pinellas County Justice Center after late Pinellas-Pasco State Attorney Bernie McCabe.

McCabe, who died Jan. 1 at age 73, “left an unrivaled legacy in the pantheon of Florida justice seekers,” wrote Sprowls, a Palm Harbor Republican and former prosecutor who used to work for the State Attorney’s Office.

The letter sent Wednesday to the Pinellas County Commission was co-signed by Acting State Attorney Bruce Bartlett, who was McCabe’s chief assistant, Pinellas Sheriff Bob Gualtieri, Pinellas Clerk of the Circuit Court Ken Burke and Pinellas-Pasco Chief Judge Anthony Rondolino.

“Mr. McCabe was fond of asking his young prosecutors when they asked him what they should do on a case, ‘What is the right thing to do?’ He had a way of making complex decisions easy with keen moral clarity,” the letter says.

“Naming the building that he walked into every day to serve as a minister of justice, well … it’s the right thing to do. We hope you will.”

The State Attorney’s and Public Defender’s offices are located inside the sprawling Justice Center at 14250 49th Street N, along with courtrooms, judge’s chambers and the office of the clerk and comptroller.

Defense attorney Haydee Oropesa on Friday emailed the commissioners and those who signed the letter and told them she plans to publicly oppose renaming the courthouse after the region’s longtime prosecutor, who represents just one side of the criminal justice system.

“The Courthouse is supposed to represent Truth and Justice (and neither side of a case is the absolute holder of those ideals),” she said, “and it is supposed to be blind not visually focused on any one side.”

McCabe began working at the State Attorney’s Office in 1972 and, other than two years in which he moved back to his hometown of Mount Dora after his father died, spent his four-decade legal career working there. He was elected to the top job in 1992 and has been reelected ever since.

Among Florida’s legal and political community, McCabe was known as a mentor to young lawyers, a whip-smart litigator, and an advocate for crime victims, police officers and children. He served for 20 years on the Pinellas County Juvenile Welfare Board and was one of the first state attorneys in Florida to start drug and veterans’ treatment courts.

“He could be fierce when he needed to be, but his heart was one in constant search of truth and righteousness,” the letter says.

McCabe had been in bad health for some time, friends and colleagues said. In February, he suffered what he called an “adverse health event” before the pandemic and started working from home. He provided no details about his health then. He was days away from starting his eighth term when he died. The chief judge appointed Bartlett, McCabe’s longtime chief assistant, to run the agency until the governor appoints an interim state attorney.

According to the county’s honorary naming rights policy, any group of citizens can submit a proposal to name a county-owned or controlled building after someone.

The county administrator will then create a committee to consider the proposal, and that committee will make a recommendation to county commissioners, who have the final say.

View the full news story at https://www.tampabay.com/news/2021/01/08/florida-house-speaker-rename-pinellas-courthouse-after-bernie-mccabe/

Pinellas-Pasco Public Defender Sara Mollo joins the Juvenile Welfare Board

We are pleased to announce that The Honorable Sara Mollo has joined the Juvenile Welfare Board in an ex-officio capacity as Public Defender for the Sixth Judicial Circuit.

In 2020, Sara Mollo was elected as Public Defender for the Sixth Judicial Circuit, serving Pinellas and Pasco counties. Ms. Mollo has practiced criminal law for over 20 years, serving as both a prosecutor and now as the Public Defender. This unique background has led her to a deeper understanding of the importance of justice for all.  She is well known as a fierce advocate for her clients and for seeking solutions for the misunderstood complexities of mental illness and poverty.

Ms. Mollo grew up in a military family; her father is a retired Lt. Colonel in the United States Army. She received her Doctorate degree from Western Michigan University Thomas M. Cooley Law School. In 1997, she was admitted to the Florida and Missouri Bars and was appointed as Prosecutor. Two years later, she joined the Public Defender’s Office in Monroe County and, in 2002, she moved to Clearwater, joining the Sixth Judicial Circuit Public Defender’s Office.

Ms. Mollo is also Past President of the Pinellas Association of Criminal Defense Lawyers, Legislative Co-Chair of the Florida Association of Criminal Defense Lawyers, Humanitarian Award Recipient bestowed by the National Association of Mental Illness (NAMI), and Graduate of Leadership Pinellas Class of 2020.

Ms. Mollo believes that being a member of a vulnerable population doesn’t define you, but how we as a society treat the most vulnerable amongst us does.

Get to know Sara Mollo, Pinellas-Pasco’s new public defender

Sara Mollo thought she was done.

Soon after she was appointed as a prosecutor in Missouri, she started working on a death penalty case. She remembers watching the mother of a teenage defendant, learning that the state would seek death against her son, pass out in shock. The experience took a lot out of the young lawyer.

So she left, moving to the Florida Keys to think about her next steps — and learn to scuba dive. On her drive from Marathon to John Pennekamp Coral Reef State Park, she’d pass a Monroe County Public Defender’s satellite office. As she struggled with her experience on the other side of the legal system, the frequent drive-bys gave her an idea.

“I thought being a public defender would be a really good opportunity just to make sure that the process worked fair, and that everybody did get justice,” Mollo said in a recent interview.

Beginning today, Mollo, 51, will lead the Pinellas-Pasco Public Defender’s Office for a four-year term, following last week’s retirement of Bob Dillinger, who was first elected in 1996 and served five terms. After Mollo worked a few years at the Monroe County office, then in private practice, Dillinger hired her in 2003, where she rose to be his chief assistant. With her boss’ support, she ran for his seat unopposed.

Mollo will be one of two new leaders in the Pinellas-Pasco legal system. Following the unexpected death last week of State Attorney Bernie McCabe, his chief assistant, Bruce Bartlett, is taking over the job. McCabe served one term longer than Dillinger, making this a rare moment for two offices previously led for decades by incumbents.

For Mollo, much of her first year in office will be focused on keeping it running amid the coronavirus pandemic, she said. The virus has forced many court proceedings online, so Mollo said she wants to make sure the office stays up to date with technology.

She also anticipates that, as the pandemic pushes up unemployment and poverty rates, fewer people will be able to afford a private lawyer, so her office will likely take on more clients. That’s on top of the case backlog that has built up as the pandemic continues to stall some criminal trials. Mollo is also bracing for budget constraints for her own office.

“There’s going to be some additional challenges right up front,” she said.

Beyond that, she wants to continue her boss’s legacy, which is a big task on its own, she said. Dillinger expanded his office’s role to include social programs and outreach that go beyond the traditional public defender role of providing legal representation to those who can’t afford private lawyers.

Mollo shares Dillinger’s passion for mental health, which bloomed while she was working on Baker Act cases. The Baker Act is a Florida law that allows for the involuntary examination of those experiencing a mental health crisis. And working in the office she saw how much issues such as mental illness, substance abuse and homelessness played into her clients’ cases.

“What I noticed, and what Mr. Dillinger allowed me to see was a tenacious and relentless caring for people, just unwilling to give up on them,” she said.

Of her new role, she said, “I’m not interested in the politics of it. I’m interested in the people of it, and that’s what I’m going to stay focused on.”

Mollo lives in Belleair Bluffs with her husband and daughter. Spot her at the courthouse by looking for red heels — her signature accessory.

View the full Tampa Bay Times news story at https://www.tampabay.com/news/pinellas/2021/01/05/get-to-know-sara-mollo-pinellas-pascos-new-public-defender/

Bernie McCabe, Pinellas-Pasco’s top prosecutor, dies at age 73

When Bernie McCabe first thought about becoming a lawyer, the name that came to mind was TV’s most famous defense attorney.

“I was always fascinated by Perry Mason,” he told the Tampa Bay Times in 2018.

Instead, McCabe’s historic career went in the opposite direction: He spent a half-century as a prosecutor and in 1992 was elected to the top job.

As Pinellas-Pasco State Attorney, he spent nearly three decades overseeing the prosecution of murderers, cop-killers and con men in both counties. He also led the office in its unsuccessful prosecution of the Church of Scientology.

McCabe died on Friday. He was 73.

He had been in poor health for some time. In February, he suffered what he called an “adverse health event” before the pandemic and started working from home. McCabe provided no details about his health then.

“It’s no secret he’s been in poor health,” said Pinellas Pasco Clerk of the Circuit Court Ken Burke, a longtime friend of the state attorney.

McCabe leaves behind a wife, Denise, who he married in 1969, and two children.

In a 2018 interview with the Times, McCabe said his job meant everything to him.

“There’s a lot of satisfaction there. I think I would feel a big void (if I wasn’t working),” he said. “I don’t play golf. In fact, I hate gardening. I can cook reasonably well, but I can’t do that all the time …

“I don’t know if there’s anything else that I could find that would give me the sense of fulfillment that I get out of this office.”

When the news of McCabe’s death broke Saturday, the region’s top officials offered praise.

“He was a man with great intelligence. He had a superior insight into our judicial system. He was a keen politician, and he was always mindful of the other justice partners,” said Pinellas-Pasco Chief Judge Anthony Rondolino, who had known McCabe since both were young attorneys. “He was a great leader for the state attorney’s office and has a legacy that will be very, very difficult to surpass.”

The state attorney was a “consummate professional, very ethical,” said Bob Dillinger, who retired last week after 24 years as Pinellas-Pasco’s top public defender.

“I’ve lost a longtime friend,” he said.

The chief judge on Saturday appointed Chief Assistant State Attorney Bruce Bartlett, McCabe’s longtime second-in-command and close friend, as acting state attorney.

“Trying to step in for Bernie — they’re hard shoes to fill,” Bartlett said. “I just hope that the public will be satisfied with what I do.”

Chief Assistant State Attorney Bruce Bartlett, left, and Pinellas-Pasco State Attorney Bernie McCabe, right, confer during the Sept. 23, 2013 re-sentencing hearing of Nicholas Lindsey Jr. He was 16 when he killed St. Petersburg police Officer David Crawford in 2011. Lindsey was again sentenced to life in prison.

Chief Assistant State Attorney Bruce Bartlett, left, and Pinellas-Pasco State Attorney Bernie McCabe, right, confer during the Sept. 23, 2013 re-sentencing hearing of Nicholas Lindsey Jr. He was 16 when he killed St. Petersburg police Officer David Crawford in 2011. Lindsey was again sentenced to life in prison. [ KEELER, SCOTT | Tampa Tribune ]

McCabe’s only contested election was his first one in 1992, and he has run unopposed since. In April he was automatically elected to another four-year term that was to start Tuesday. The governor will have to appoint an interim state attorney, and then voters will elect a new state attorney in 2022.

McCabe’s death and Dillinger’s departure means new faces will fill the Pinellas-Pasco circuit’s top criminal justice positions for the first time in decades.

• • •

McCabe was raised in Mount Dora, where his father once served as Lake County school superintendent. What first drew him to the law, he said, was the school board’s colorful attorney, a cigar-chomping lawyer who drove a white Cadillac convertible with red leather seats.

But when McCabe went to Stetson University College of Law in Gulfport, his career path fell into place after his first prosecution clinic in 1971. He said he enjoyed the “satisfaction” of helping people and doing the right thing. He graduated in 1972 and joined the Pinellas-Pasco State Attorney’s Office.

“It was kind of right place, right time,” he said, “and I came to really love what I was doing.”

Republican gubernatorial candidate Ander Crenshaw, left, talks with Pinellas-Pasco Attorney Bernie McCabe at a Clearwater restaurant in 1993.

Republican gubernatorial candidate Ander Crenshaw, left, talks with Pinellas-Pasco Attorney Bernie McCabe at a Clearwater restaurant in 1993. [ Associated Press ]

He spent eight years there, supervising the St. Petersburg and then Pasco County offices. Then in 1980, after his father died, he returned home and went to work as a prosecutor in Lake County. Two years later, then-Pinellas-Pasco State Attorney Jimmy Russell asked him to come back. McCabe became Russell’s top deputy, then his heir apparent in the 1992 election.

Under his tenure, the State Attorney’s Office won convictions in some of the worst crimes in Tampa Bay history. That includes the case of Oba Chandler, who was executed in 2011 for the murders of Joan Rogers and daughters Michelle and Christe. The Ohio family was visiting Florida in 1989 when Chandler offered to take them out onto Tampa Bay in his boat. They were found floating in the bay, bound, tied to concrete blocks and stripped below the waist.

McCabe prided himself on personally prosecuting cop-killers. He was on the prosecution teams that convicted the killers of Belleair police Officer Jeffery Tackett, who died in 1993; Pasco sheriff’s Lt. Charles “Bo” Harrison, who was killed in 2003; and St. Petersburg police Officer David Crawford, who died in 2011.

Pinellas-Pasco State Attorney Bernie McCabe, right, calls a witness into the grand jury room at the West Pasco Judicial Center in 2003. The grand jury indicted Alfredie Steele Jr. in the murder of Pasco County Sheriff's Office Lt. Charles "Bo" Harrison in Lacoochee, and a jury later convicted Steele.

Pinellas-Pasco State Attorney Bernie McCabe, right, calls a witness into the grand jury room at the West Pasco Judicial Center in 2003. The grand jury indicted Alfredie Steele Jr. in the murder of Pasco County Sheriff’s Office Lt. Charles “Bo” Harrison in Lacoochee, and a jury later convicted Steele. [ ANDY JONES | Tampa Bay Times ]

“Any good trial lawyer first and foremost is preparation, and Bernie did his homework,” said Pinellas-Pasco Judge Jack Helinger, who started his legal career as a prosecutor in 1976. And to jurors, Helinger said, McCabe “was a good ‘ol Mount Dora boy. He didn’t talk down to them. He talked with them.”

He supervised an office of about 165 attorneys that handles roughly 80,000 felony, misdemeanor, traffic and juvenile cases a year. In recent years he complained about the toll austere budgets took on his agency.

In a 2011 interview, McCabe noted one of the most disappointing cases of his career: The failed prosecution of the Church of Scientology for the 1995 death of member Lisa McPherson who spent her last days in the church’s care. In 1998 he charged the church with two felonies, practicing medicine without a license and abuse of a disabled adult. But in 2000 he dropped the charges after the medical examiner changed McPherson’s manner of death from “undetermined” to “accident.”

The most famous white collar crime that McCabe’s office prosecuted was against the Rev. Henry Lyons, the St. Petersburg preacher who was then one of the nation’s most powerful Black church leaders. In 1999 he was convicted of using his position as president of the National Baptist Convention USA Inc. to swindle corporations out of more than $4 million.

McCabe’s decisions also made headlines. In 1996, Officer James Knight, a white man, fatally shot Tyron Lewis, a Black motorist who edged his car forward, knocking the officer onto the hood. That incident sparked two nights of rioting in St. Petersburg. McCabe took the case to a grand jury, and its decision not to charge the officer led to more violence. However, when the Times raised questions about the evidence presented to the grand jury, McCabe insisted the grand jury’s report was accurate.

More recently, McCabe prosecuted a man the Pinellas sheriff declined to arrest: Michael Drejka, a white man who killed a Black man, Markeis McGlockton, in a 2018 dispute over a Clearwater parking spot. The sheriff cited Florida’s stand your ground law, but McCabe charged Drejka and he was convicted of manslaughter in 2019.

• • •

McCabe had a big heart for children, said Pinellas Sheriff Bob Gualtieri. He supported juvenile diversion programs, which channel children arrested for certain crimes into social services and community services and away from the criminal justice system. He also supported Gualtieri’s move to start a similar program for adults accused of minor crimes.

“What made him stick out was his firm belief in doing the right things and treating people fairly and treating them humanely,” Gualtieri said.

Pinellas-Pasco State Attorney Bernie McCabe, right, shown here at a Juvenile Welfare Board meeting in 2019.

Pinellas-Pasco State Attorney Bernie McCabe, right, shown here at a Juvenile Welfare Board meeting in 2019.

But McCabe was also tough when he needed to be, the sheriff said, calling him “an icon in the legal community and law enforcement.”

Florida House Speaker Chris Sprowls, a Palm Harbor Republican who worked as a prosecutor in McCabe’s office until about four years ago, on Saturday posted a statement on Twitter.

“Bernie was my mentor and my friend,” he said. “I will miss him more than I can put into words, but I also know that I will carry the lessons I learned from him with me through all the days of my life.”

Pinellas-Pasco State Attorney Bernie McCabe holds out his hand to simulate firing a gun during closing arguments in the 2012 murder trial of Nicholas Lindsey Jr., who was convicted of killing St. Petersburg police Officer David Crawford in 2011.

Pinellas-Pasco State Attorney Bernie McCabe holds out his hand to simulate firing a gun during closing arguments in the 2012 murder trial of Nicholas Lindsey Jr., who was convicted of killing St. Petersburg police Officer David Crawford in 2011. [ KEELER, SCOTT | Times ]

Despite his declining health, Gualtieri said McCabe’s mind was as sharp as ever. And his passion for his work never diminished either.

“I thoroughly enjoy this job and I don’t know what it is, but when I start contemplating not coming to work, I just sense a sort of emptiness,” he told the Times in 2018. “I enjoy coming to work, I enjoy interacting with people, I thoroughly enjoy trying to make the community a safer place, or at least keep it from becoming a more dangerous place.”

Friends and colleagues believe that’s why McCabe continued to run for office, despite his declining health. He once said he’d retire after 2016 — but ended up running two more times.

“It doesn’t get more dedicated than he was,” Gualtieri said, “right to the end.”

Bob Dillinger was far more than Pinellas-Pasco’s public defender

Bob Dillinger has been many things to many people over his 40-year legal career: A zealous litigator. A mentor to young lawyers. An advocate for children. A philanthropist, alongside his longtime wife, Kay. A known cryer, so moved by his work that it moved the people around him, too.

As the Pinellas-Pasco judicial circuit’s chief public defender, that passion went a long way. For 24 years, Dillinger took an office tasked with defending those who can’t afford a private defense attorney and broadened it into a social services provider that tried to address root causes such as mental illness, homelessness and childhood trauma.

“Not to get all horoscope-y, but he’s a Leo, and it really shows,” said Pinellas County Judge Lorraine Kelly, referring to the astrological sign represented by a lion. “He is fierce, and he really has always had a heart for the underdog and the lowest of the low.”

Dillinger is retiring at the end of the year. He was first elected public defender in 1996 and served five terms, but Thursday is his last day on the job.

His chief deputy, Sara Mollo, takes over Jan. 5 and said she hopes to continue her boss’ legacy.

“It’s just a massive honor and privilege to follow in his footsteps,” said Mollo, 51, who ran unopposed this year.

Dillinger, 69, leaves behind a legacy of compassion and leadership, coworkers, friends and community leaders said. He spearheaded social programs and racked up awards from legal and social services organizations.

And for more than a decade, he and his wife have helped thousands of local children through the Beth Dillinger Foundation, a charity named after their daughter, who died by suicide in 2006.

“I think we’ve changed the focus,” he said, reflecting on his career, “that public defenders do more than just represent criminals. We actually are involved in the community.”

• • •

Working at the public defender’s office convinced Dillinger to become one.

He was born and raised in Daytona Beach, then moved to New York City to attend Columbia University, where he studied environmental sciences. He returned to Florida to be closer to his family and attended Stetson University College of Law in Gulfport.

He had an interest in urban planning. But he wanted to try out being in a courtroom and heard the public defender clinic allowed law students to try cases. He tried two cases and was hooked.

He graduated from law school in 1976 and took a job in the Pinellas-Pasco office as an assistant public defender. Soon, he was working on capital cases, experience that led him to help publish Florida’s first death penalty training manual for defense attorneys.

“He was always prepared, diligently studying and learning, with the overlay of great personal concern about the well-being of his clients,” said Pinellas-Pasco Chief Judge Anthony Rondolino, who worked with Dillinger in the public defender’s office back then. “It was a tremendous mixture for a criminal defense lawyer, particularly a public defender.”

In 1981, Dillinger left the office to work in private practice. His work included suing the Pinellas sheriff at the time, alleging he allowed deputies to beat suspects with a shotgun and flashlights, and successfully defending a man against a murder charge after arguing his client was taken advantage of due to his cocaine addiction.

Circuit Judge Linda Allan, who shared office space with Dillinger as an attorney then, said he always had a “real yearning” to run for public defender.

He took the leap in 1995, filing to run against his old boss and fellow Republican, Robert Jagger, in the 1996 primary.

At the time, Jagger was believed to be the longest-serving public defender in the country. To Jagger, that meant he brought consistency and experience to the job. To Dillinger, it meant stale and out-of-touch leadership.

Facing a 35-year incumbent, in a race few voters paid attention to, Dillinger used some creative tactics. At a 1995 Bucs-Jaguars game, a small plane flew above the 71,629 spectators with a banner: “Dillinger for public defender.” The next year, days before the election, as all eyes were on the forecast for Tropical Storm Fran, he bought air time on the Weather Channel.

Something worked, because Dillinger beat his old boss with 57 percent of the vote. On his first day on the job, he said he had his office door taken off the hinges — the literal embodiment of an open-door policy.

• • •

Before she was a circuit judge, Chris Helinger was working at the public defender’s office when her newly elected boss asked her to review some case files. Dillinger had a hunch about them.

In one, Gulfport police had pinned a dozen burglaries on a Black man with intellectual disabilities. As Helinger dug in, the case against him fell apart. Police said he’d confessed, but there were no recordings or written records of what he said, and there was no other evidence tying him to the alleged crimes. It was one of several issues within the department that sparked a Department of Justice civil rights probe.

Another case was a Madeira Beach man who was facing charges of armed robbery and sexual battery in a series of hotel robberies on the beach. Dillinger told her the man insisted he was innocent, and that there was another man in jail — accused of murder and bank robbery — who looked just like him.

A description of the so-called “beach bandit” was that he was wearing a distinctive shirt with the word “Meridian” on it. So, during an interview with the lookalike’s girlfriend, Helinger asked if she had any of his clothes. The girlfriend said she did.

In an unprecedented move, Dillinger’s office pursued a search warrant — a legal maneuver usually employed only by law enforcement. There, at the top of a bag full of clothing, was the shirt.

“I’ll never forget that moment,” Helinger said. “I have such fond feelings for him because he enabled me to do those things. He was very good at picking out where the talent was and where it wasn’t.”

One of Dillinger’s most high-profile victories was the exoneration of Dale Morris Jr., who the Pasco County Sheriff’s Office accused of the 1997 rape and murder of his 9-year-old neighbor, Sharra Ferger. Dillinger, convinced of Morris’ innocence, threw his office’s resources at Morris’ defense.

The state’s case hung on a bite mark on the child’s shoulder: the sheriff’s dental expert said it matched Morris’ imprints. Defense experts came to the opposite conclusion. Then, just a few weeks before Morris’ 1998 trial was set to start, crime labs determined that hair found on the girl’s body matched another man, not Morris.

Dillinger said he’d never forget the call from a prosecutor, letting him know the state was abandoning the charge. The court document dismissing Morris’ case is framed in his office with this brass engraving: “These actions are the direct result of total dedication by an entire office.”

• • •

It wasn’t just defending clients in the courtroom that Dillinger excelled at.

“His view of his job … went way beyond the traditional role of defending someone in a courtroom,” Pinellas Sheriff Bob Gualtieri said.

Dillinger said he came into the job with a passion for mental health after seeing how much it played a role in his clients’ cases.

He drew attention in the early 2000s to an issue that still persists today, that a broken mental health care system led jails and prisons to become de facto mental hospitals. He won a grant in 2003 for a program that has since diverted more than 7,000 jail inmates with severe mental illness into treatment.

He was instrumental in creating programs that helped with substance abuse disorders and homelessness. And he cared deeply about children. Dillinger saw a link between dependency cases, a civil action that occurs when a child is suspected to be a victim of abuse or neglect, and delinquency cases, in which a child faces criminal charges. He described it this way to the then-St. Petersburg Times in 2008:

“They push somebody in a foster care home, they act out because they feel they’re being abused or not being treated right,” Dillinger said. “And they end up with delinquency charges.”

That resulted in one of the programs he’s most proud of: Crossover for Children, which pairs a child with the same public defender for both cases. The program not only gives children legal help, he said, but also a consistent advocate in lives often marked by uncertainty and trauma.

Outside the office, the Dillinger family grappled with their own tragedy. He and his wife’s only child, daughter Beth, killed herself in 2006. She was 32 and engaged. Her parents went from planning her wedding to planning her funeral.

The Dillingers channeled their pain into helping other children. The year after her death, they started the Beth Dillinger Foundation.

It began with Beth’s Closet, a boutique of clothes and accessories for at-risk teens served by the Pace Center for Girls and has grown to offer several programs, including Nourish to Flourish, which provides meals on weekends to thousands of children whose only access to consistent meals was at school during the week.

“Within a single meeting you could find him passionately nearly being in tears about children in hunger and seriously holding people accountable,” said Beth Houghton, chief executive officer of the Juvenile Welfare Board of Pinellas County, on which Dillinger served for 20 years.

“He brought out the side of him that was needed at the time.”

• • •

So what does slowing down look like for a guy like Dillinger?

It was going to include traveling and museums and nights out to dinner, before the coronavirus pandemic swept the world. For now, it’s books, a little Netflix, and lots of time at his house on the Withlacoochee River, fishing for large-mouth bass, elusive amid the panfish. He and his wife will also continue their work with the foundation.

Retirement may include some doctor’s visits, too. Dillinger is on his ninth round of chemotherapy since he was diagnosed with leukemia in 2007. He feels fine, he said, but the cancer has racked his immune system, making his last year in office particularly challenging amid a pandemic.

View the full news story by Tampa Bay Times at https://www.tampabay.com/news/pinellas/2020/12/26/bob-dillinger-was-far-more-than-pinellas-pascos-public-defender/

Clearwater nonprofit loses almost $400k for shelter after oversight concerns

Grace House, a long-established Clearwater homeless shelter, is set to lose funding worth almost $400,000 a year over concerns about the facility’s finances and management.

The Juvenile Welfare Board of Pinellas County, which awards property tax revenues to local social service programs, voted earlier this month to terminate its contract with Hope Villages of America, the nonprofit that runs the shelter. In a memo provided to governing board members, the Welfare Board said it was concerned that the nonprofit failed to adequately fix long-running financial and administrative issues that had led to it being placed on a corrective action plan.

That worry reached new levels in September, when a Welfare Board monitoring team interviewed Hope Villages employees. Some of them accused their managers of speaking to residents they serve in a harsh and belittling manner and said they feared retaliation if they filed a grievance at work.

“We remain committed to being accountable and responsible with taxpayers’ dollars, and as such, made the prudent decision to terminate the Grace House contract,” said Welfare Board CEO Beth Houghton in an email.

The Welfare Board had funded the shelter, which has 90 beds, since 2005. It agreed to continue funding only through the end of February, leaving a shortfall of about $224,000 for 2021.

Hope Villages of America was known as Religious Community Services Pinellas until changing its name in October.

President and CEO Kirk Ray Smith said the shelter, which costs about $700,000 a year, is well run, with 90 percent of those who stay going onto permanent housing. The shelter also works with families and individuals at risk of becoming homeless. It provides counseling and services such as financial literacy training and family budgeting and serves about 600 people each year, Smith said.

Smith and Chief Operating Officer Melinda Perry said they had addressed many of the issues raised in the corrective action plan. Smith pointed out that the Welfare Board is continuing to fund The Haven, a domestic violence shelter for women that Hope Villages also runs.

We’ve never had an opportunity to challenge a lot of what they’ve written,” he said. “the timing couldn’t be worse with what’s happening with COVID and people in need.”

Kirk Ray Smith was hired as president and CEO of Religious Community Services Pinellas in 2016. In October, the group renamed itself Hope Villages of America.

Smith also questioned the timing of the decision by the Welfare Board, which he said had previously asked whether he would consider allowing another nonprofit to run the shelter.

“When I decided we’re going to go ahead and continue the course, then immediately I was given notice that the funding would be discontinued,” he said.

Hope Villages plans to keep Grace House open, but must find a new funding source.

This is not the first time the leadership of the nonprofit has faced criticism.

Three former employees sued the group and Smith in 2019, accusing him of making demeaning and inappropriate comments to female employees and retaliating against those who complained. The case is pending.

The three and a fourth former employee also filed complaints with the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission, alleging discrimination based on their age, sex and race. The commission dismissed three of the complaints, saying it was unable to conclude whether discrimination took place, but granted the women the right to sue the nonprofit.

When asked about the complaints alleged by employees in the September interviews, Smith said he has no contact with those staff members, nor the residents of Grace House.

Perry, the COO, said that only one employee, who is no longer with the nonprofit, had made those complaints. Other employees left because they did not like the direction the nonprofit was taking, she said. Managers recently had an open meeting with staff to discuss any concerns.

“The team we have in place are incredible, and they’re all on board with the changes we’re making,” Perry said.

But according to the Welfare Board, three of the four employees interviewed expressed concerns over the management of the shelter. The interviews were conducted after the board received a letter from a former employee expressing “compelling concerns” over the program’s leadership.

The Welfare Board placed Hope Villages on a corrective action plan in August 2019 after reviews found that the nonprofit did not have on file background screenings of employees who worked with children at the shelter, according to its memo.

There were also concerns about high staff turnover, financial management and the death of two people in the shelter from suspected overdoses. Perry said the shelter took in people who had issues such as addiction.

“It’s not anything that we would have been able to control,” said Perry.

The remaining balance of the 2021 money earmarked for Grace House, roughly $224,000, will now go to a family housing program run by the Society of Saint Vincent de Paul.

View the full news story by Tampa Bay Times at: https://www.tampabay.com/news/pinellas/2020/12/23/clearwater-nonprofit-loses-almost-400k-for-shelter-after-oversight-concerns/

The Honorable Bob Dillinger: 20 years of making a difference for children

The Juvenile Welfare Board recently recognized The Honorable Bob Dillinger for 20 years of dedicated service to Pinellas County children. The recognition occurred during the monthly JWB Board Meeting on December 10, 2020.

Mr. Dillinger has made it his life’s work to fight childhood hunger, to give hope to the vulnerable and underserved, and to keep children and families out of deeper-end services, such as foster care, jails, and mental health institutes.

Together with his wife Kay, they started the Beth Dillinger Foundation and its Nourish to Flourish program, which has provided more than 200,000 meals to feed hungry children. Their Foundation has also awarded dozens of Take Stock in Children scholarships, and their signature clothes closets – in place at the Public Defender’s Office, PACE Center for Girls, and Ready for Life – have restored dignity and hope to many.

Although Mr. Dillinger will be leaving our Board, his legacy will live on in the smiles and laughter of our county’s children: many will rest better tonight, their tummies full and their futures full of hope!

JWB and partners celebrate Hispanic Heritage Month

In recognition of Hispanic Heritage Month 2020 (September 15 – October 15, 2020) the InterCultural Advocacy Institute, Empath Health, Juvenile Welfare Board, Moffitt Cancer Center, and the Family Healthcare Foundation partnered to host a series of Lunch and Learn events to celebrate the contributions of the Hispanic/Latinx community to the United States. Hundreds traveled with us virtually, learned from personal journeys, discussed current topics, discovered traditional recipes, and more!

In total, seven Lunch and Learn webinars were held, attracting more than 1, 750 Facebook Live views. Topics included: Hispanic Heritage Month Kickoff Event; A Conversation with Jacob Diaz, Ed.D.; The Taste of Hispanic/Latin Countries; The Latinx Community on Voting, Wealth and Health; Frida & Diego: A Virtual Tour (English); Celebracion con Frida y Diego (Espanol); and Hispanic Heritage Month Celebration. Valuable information was collected related to future topics for webinar and other educational events.

A special thanks to Abrazo a la Distancia, a workgroup formed during the COVID-19 pandemic to offer education, resources, and support to the Hispanic and Latinx communities.

Drive-through appreciation event honors Pinellas County VPK teachers

More than 100 Voluntary Pre-Kindergarten (VPK) teachers from across Pinellas County were celebrated during a drive-through appreciation event in their honor. As preschool teachers drove their cars parade-style through the parking lot of High Point Elementary, partners lined up in a show of support, waving signs and cheering them on.

The celebration included book and school supply giveaways, music, and a surprise visit by Raymond, the Tampa Bay Rays mascot. Dozens of partners joined in the festivities to let VPK teachers know that their work is essential and very much appreciated! 

The event was spearheaded by the Preschool Kindergarten Partnership and supported by numerous partners, including the Juvenile Welfare Board, Pinellas County Schools, Early Learning Coalition of Pinellas, Florida Department of Education/Office of Early Learning, R’Club Child Care, Lutheran Services Florida Head Start, Pinellas County Licensing Board, St. Petersburg College, USF St. Petersburg Family Study Center, Lakeshore Learning, Florida Association of EYC/Pinellas Chapter, Read Strong Pinellas, and Tampa Bay Rays.

To view the event photo album, visit: https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?vanity=JWBPinellas&set=a.10158969580148586