For thousands abused as juveniles, LA County’s historic settlement opens new era

Ladaro Pennix is anticipating his freedom later this year. After nearly 30 years in prison, he hopes a resentencing hearing will result in his release. And if he gets out, he says, he will reclaim his life with help from the largest sex-abuse settlement in U.S. history.

“They say that second chances don’t exist. Well, in this case it does,” says Mr. Pennix.

He is one of thousands of people who survived alleged sexual abuse in juvenile facilities in Los Angeles County over decades beginning in the 1980s. County supervisors are expected to approve the $4 billion settlement today, which will compensate nearly 7,000 plaintiffs. The staggering amount reflects both the scope of the atrocities and the number of survivors, experts say.

It also reflects a broader societal shift in understanding power dynamics and requiring accountability for abuses. In the past, survivors have been silenced or discouraged by a system that often sided with abusers.

“The country is, without question, evolving toward greater support for the victims of child sex abuse and more willingness to understand the need for compensation and justice,” says Marci Hamilton, founder and CEO of Child USA, which advocates for stronger policies related to child abuse.

The settlement, which includes an apology from the county and recognition of harm, does more than mete out punishment. It takes a step toward restorative justice, says one lawyer in the case.

“You want to have the societal recognition that there’s been a horrible wrong, that there’s been horrible damage, and that recognition is significant and important for the lifelong healing process,” says Patrick McNicholas, whose firm represents 1,200 plaintiffs.

Mr. Pennix says that the settlement is, indeed, opening a door to his path toward healing.

“There’s a sort of redemption to it, for all of us.”

“The leading wedge”

The settlement stands out not just for its sum, but for the institution it holds accountable: government. “This is the leading wedge on the cases against state institutions,” says Ms. Hamilton.

It is the latest high-profile abuse settlement in recent decades, involving the Catholic Church, the Boy Scouts, and more than a dozen universities including Penn State, Michigan State, and the University of Southern California. The Boy Scouts agreed to the previous record-high settlement in 2022 for $2.5 billion.

The mass sexual abuse events amount to an epidemic, says Mr. McNicholas. In this case, the county of Los Angeles made “a conscious, concerted decision to step up,” he says. “And it’s not easy to do because they have to balance the horrible injustice that’s been done with the ability of the taxpayers to pay.”

Taxpayers will pay by way of budget cuts, cash reserves, and bond issues, according to the county, which declined to answer follow-up questions.

Government institutions are generally difficult to sue for large amounts, says Ms. Hamilton, because of sovereign immunity laws that protect them from paying punitive damages.

The size of this settlement, she says, shows state institutions should be held to account, because “we have children all over the country who are still being abused in these kinds of institutions.” This lawsuit, she says, is heroic.

LA County has implemented reforms in the last 25 years aimed at protecting children and strengthening processes for reporting and investigating child abuse. Many were the result of either civil lawsuits or state or federal mandates.

Accountability and healing

The scope of the claims is substantiated by a 2001 grand jury report of MacLaren Children’s Center, the county’s largest foster care facility until it closed in 2003. The settlement acknowledges decades of abuse claims stemming primarily, the county says, from the 1980s, ’90s, and 2000s.

“On behalf of the County, I apologize wholeheartedly to everyone who was harmed by these reprehensible acts,” Chief Executive Officer Fesia Davenport said in a news release. The county, she says, is “helping the survivors recover and rebuild their lives.”

The acknowledgment is meaningful, experts say. “That in and of itself can start to heal a wound of, ‘No one believes me,’ and gives validation to their experiences, which is critical,” explains Lauren Ng, director of UCLA’s TRUST Lab, which researches and treats trauma in underserved communities.

Mr. Pennix feels a sense of release, he says, in knowing the truth has been heard. The accountability makes him feel safe, “and because of this, we’re going to be saving a lot of lives from the same things that have happened to us.”

“Use my full name”

Mr. Pennix was 14 years old when a fight at the Long Beach mall landed him in Los Padrinos Juvenile Hall. At the time, he was soft-spoken, he says, and staff would comment on his “light girlish eyes.”

Joking on the part of staff escalated to physical abuse. He recalls that once, staff members pulled him into a room and “put me in some type of submission lock … and then this is when the worst of the worst started to happen.” Mr. Pennix says he was sexually abused.

He was released at 16, but soon returned, this time for murder and robbery. Shame and anger from the abuse shaped him in prison, he says. He spent years in solitary confinement, “and it should be on the record that I tried to commit suicide.”

But his mother, he says, “loved me more than I love myself. And she reminded me of who I am, you know, a survivor.” He worked to transform himself.

He earned degrees in psychology and theology, among other subjects, he says, and published several books. He facilitates support groups for gang members and inmates considering suicide.

A state appeals court granted him a resentencing hearing based on a 2022 California law that allows people to ask for reduced sentences if they received the equivalent of life without parole when they were under the age of 18. He is hopeful, he says, that he will be released from Kern Valley State Prison before the end of the year.

He intends to work with young people to help them avoid “the street life.”

Mr. Pennix also wants to share his experience, he says, to give voice to other survivors – the same voice he gained through the settlement. Out of sensitivity to the abuse he endured as a juvenile and its aftermath, the Monitor had asked him if he was comfortable being named in a news story.

“It’s time to use my life as a vehicle for change, and I can be a voice if I’m willing to be that voice. And to answer your question, yes, please use my full name.”