Baltimore Man Seeks Justice for Abuse in Juvenile Detention
BALTIMORE – Arlando “Tray” Jones was very young when his father was fatally shot by Baltimore police during a robbery. His mother passed away some years afterward following a struggle with alcohol addiction.
Often, his remaining family members found it difficult to support him. Basic utilities were sometimes disconnected, and food was scarce. Looking for stability, Jones fell under the influence of a well-known local drug dealer, known as “Fat Larry.” This figure, embodying a dangerous allure, showcased a life of apparent success found in illegal activities. Under “Fat Larry’s” guidance, Jones gained access to consistent housing and finances but was also exposed to constant violence. He began carrying a weapon and retaliating against perceived offenses. Before reaching adolescence, he faced charges of attempted murder and was incarcerated in juvenile detention in the early 1980s.
Allegations of Systemic Abuse
At the Maryland Training School for Boys, Jones alleges repeated sexual assault by a staff member while another facilitated the abuse. According to recent legal filings detailing extensive misconduct within Maryland juvenile facilities, guards would isolate children and offer incentives like snacks for compliance. “They broke me,” Jones stated, describing how his abusers physically and emotionally overwhelmed him. “Everything that made me human was just erased.”
Jones is one of thousands pursuing justice under Maryland’s recently enacted law eliminating the time limit for child sexual abuse claims. This legislation, passed in 2023 following the Catholic Church abuse revelations, has unexpectedly led to a surge of cases against the state’s juvenile justice system. Maryland legislators are now urgently working to manage the potential financial impact of these lawsuits, concerned about the strain on the state budget.
State Response and Victim Experiences
The Associated Press requested comment from the Maryland Department of Juvenile Services (DJS), which issued a statement instead of granting an interview. “DJS treats all accusations of child sexual abuse within our facilities with the highest gravity. We are committed to ensuring safe, respectful, and rehabilitative settings for all youth under our care. We cannot comment on ongoing legal matters,” the DJS statement read.
vCard.red is a free platform for creating a mobile-friendly digital business cards. You can easily create a vCard and generate a QR code for it, allowing others to scan and save your contact details instantly.
The platform allows you to display contact information, social media links, services, and products all in one shareable link. Optional features include appointment scheduling, WhatsApp-based storefronts, media galleries, and custom design options.
For plaintiffs, the overwhelming number of cases comes as no shock, reflecting decades of silence fueled by victim shame. These victims, often among Maryland’s most marginalized—predominantly Black youth raised in poverty with limited familial networks—are now coming forward. Even decades later, Jones became emotional during an interview: “But I now understand,” he declared, “the burden of shame belongs to the abusers, not me.”
The Child Victims Act: Unintended Repercussions
Legal and Financial Ramifications
Maryland legislators enacted the Child Victims Act in response to a damning report exposing widespread abuse within the Baltimore Archdiocese. Before this law, legal action was barred for victims after age 38.
The legislative change led the Archdiocese to declare bankruptcy to safeguard its assets. However, state officials did not foresee comparable financial pressures on the state from lawsuits against the juvenile justice system. Lawmakers are currently exploring legislative measures to mitigate the state’s financial exposure.
Legal professionals estimate approximately 6,000 individuals have engaged legal representation, with new claims continuously emerging. Beyond financial compensation, plaintiffs are advocating for mandatory reforms within Maryland’s juvenile justice system.
Decades of Criticism
Maryland’s juvenile justice system has faced ongoing scrutiny. A 2004 U.S. Department of Justice report highlighted “profoundly disturbing physical abuse” at the Charles H. Hickey Jr. School, where Jones was held. While Maryland shut down Hickey’s youth treatment program in 2005, the facility remains operational as a youth detention center.
Numerous facilities named in lawsuits have since closed, and state authorities have increased oversight measures recently and reduced youth detention numbers.
Advocates express belief that the system has improved substantially in terms of abuse reduction.
Other states have encountered similar legal challenges after legislative reforms. Nationally, while youth arrests and detention rates are decreasing, data indicates that a disproportionate number of detainees are youth of color. A 2024 report by The Sentencing Project revealed that Black youth are nearly five times more likely to be incarcerated compared to their white counterparts. “This issue transcends Maryland; it’s a nationwide crisis,” stated attorney Corey Stern, representing Jones and numerous other plaintiffs. “It’s truly a national ripple effect.”
Statewide Pattern of Abuse
Widespread Misconduct
The Maryland lawsuits depict a deeply concerning pattern of abuse. Attorneys argue that it was not isolated incidents but rather a systemic issue, persisting across numerous facilities for years. The widespread nature of abuse, though often concealed, represented a systemic failure to protect vulnerable youth.
Case Details and Victim Accounts
In one recent filing, 69 individuals filed claims against a single former housing supervisor at Hickey School, alleging abuse.
Another plaintiff, choosing anonymity, recounted resorting to self-neglect to deter abuse as it intensified. This individual endured decades of struggles with addiction and mental health, expressing that filing suit felt like “snitching.” The Associated Press generally withholds identifying abuse victims unless they publicly consent.
Nalisha Gibbs’s Testimony
Nalisha Gibbs explained her initial reluctance to report her abuse, citing a lack of faith in anyone listening, based on prior experiences.
Before being detained for a curfew violation—enforced by a school truancy officer—Gibbs had been raped by an uncle, only to be punished by her mother for disclosing the assault.
In detention, a female guard allegedly assaulted Gibbs in her cell nightly, using dehumanizing language, calling her “worthless” and “a throwaway.”
For a minor curfew infraction, Gibbs suffered profound and lasting trauma.
After 30 days in detention, Gibbs’s formal education ceased at middle school. Entering foster care, she experienced further sexual abuse, leading to drug addiction and homelessness into her twenties. In 2008, Gibbs sought recovery, enrolled in transitional housing, and earned her GED. She currently resides with her fiancé and his mother.
Reflecting on her youth, Gibbs envisions a terrified child needing protection. “So much