Vicious: Dog attacks maim, disfigure and kill every year. How Ohio law fails victims

We are pleased to reprint the first installment of “VICIOUS: An investigation into how Ohio laws fail thousands of dog attack victims,” the outstanding investagatory series written by Columbus Dispatch reporter Laura Bischoff and her colleagues at the Akron Beacon Journal, Canton Repository, and Cincinnati Enquirer.  The first report in the series titled “Vicious: Dog attacks maim, disfigure and kill every year. How Ohio law fails victims” examines the serious shortcomings in Ohio law that put us all at risk:

If a person tears off someone’s ear or nose in a bar brawl, jail time is almost certain. If they kill someone, they will likely go to prison for years. But under Ohio law, the owner of a dog that disfigures or even kills someone is likely to pay a fine that’s little more than a traffic ticket.

The law also does not require that a vicious dog be euthanized after such an attack, even if it results in a fatality.

Only after a dog kills two people does Ohio law require that it be put down.

Former state lawmaker Bill Beagle, a Tipp City Republican who tried unsuccessfully to make the law tougher, said vicious dogs get “one free growl, one free bite and one free kill” before the dog or its owner face serious consequences.

Read the entire story:

Amriel Wilkinson, 11, suffered significant injuries when a Rottweiler attacked her at age 4 in 2018 in Indian Hill. Her family sued the dog owner, a former Major League Baseball player and settled out of court for an undisclosed amount. Picture by Albert Cesare, The Enquirer.

By the fall of 2024, everyone on Kildow Court knew the dogs were dangerous.

The two pit bulls, Apollo and Echo, sometimes ran free among the condominiums in the Ashville neighborhood, growling, barking and menacing neighbors. Once, Apollo attacked a woman who was out for a walk, killing her dog and leaving her with broken bones and cuts.

The condo association sent letters to the dogs’ owners, Susan Withers and her son, Adam, demanding they get rid of the dogs. It imposed fines and filed a civil lawsuit in Pickaway County.

Nothing worked. Even after the first documented attack, a judge allowed the Withers to keep their dogs after they paid a $25 fine and put up “Beware of Dog” signs.

One sign wasn’t visible from the patio. Another small sign, about the size of a bumper sticker, was still hanging in a window of the Withers’ condo near Circleville when 73-year-old Jo Ann Echelbarger, their next-door neighbor, went outside to work in her garden on Oct. 17, 2024.

Apollo and Echo pounced, viciously attacking Echelbarger. Her husband, Stanley, 84, who suffers from Parkinson’s disease, watched helplessly from the screened-in porch as the dogs mauled his wife, breaking her neck, tearing her scalp and leaving her covered in blood. She died within minutes.

“It’s just unfathomable,” Tasha Rogers, Echelbarger’s daughter-in-law, said weeks later. “She had no chance.”

Dog attack fines in Ohio are akin to a traffic ticket

What happened to Echelbarger is the worst-case scenario: Ohio averages about two fatal dog attacks a year. But a nine-month investigation by The Cincinnati Enquirer, Columbus Dispatch, Akron Beacon Journal and The Canton Repository found it is a symptom of a larger problem, one that threatens the safety and health of thousands of Ohioans every year.

Time and again, gruesome attacks like the one that killed Echelbarger happen despite warnings, complaints and previous attacks that went unheeded by dog owners and unpunished by the legal system.

If a person tears off someone’s ear or nose in a bar brawl, jail time is almost certain. If they kill someone, they will likely go to prison for years. But under Ohio law, the owner of a dog that disfigures or even kills someone is likely to pay a fine that’s little more than a traffic ticket.

The law also does not require that a vicious dog be euthanized after such an attack, even if it results in a fatality.

Only after a dog kills two people does Ohio law require that it be put down.

Former state lawmaker Bill Beagle, a Tipp City Republican who tried unsuccessfully to make the law tougher, said vicious dogs get “one free growl, one free bite and one free kill” before the dog or its owner face serious consequences.

In some respects, state law treats dogs better than victims of dog attacks. Mistreating a dog – animal cruelty – can be a felony in Ohio. A vicious dog attack is a misdemeanor in almost every case.

And the attacks often are very serious.

Dogs bite about 17,000 people a year in Ohio severely enough to require medical attention or to prompt calls to law enforcement. Experts estimate the actual total is double that, because so many bites go unreported. Often people don’t even know they’re supposed to report bites. And public health agencies don’t categorize bite reports by how serious they are, leaving a gap in understanding the scope of the problem.

The victims, many of them children like Avery Russell of Columbus, are left with both physical and emotional scars. Some are horribly disfigured. Others lose limbs or suffer injuries so serious they can no longer work or perform simple tasks without help. Medical bills can run into the hundreds of thousands of dollars.

After Savannah Coleman, an 8-year-old from Dayton, was mauled by a dog six years ago, she underwent multiple surgeries. Her mother, Tierney Dumont, was stunned by the lack of consequences under Ohio law.

While Savannah struggled to recover and medical bills mounted, the dog’s owners paid a $120 fine.

“It’s a very frustrating process,” Dumont said. “When you’re seeing your child mauled, could’ve easily died, and then no one wants to be held accountable.”

Missed chances to seize the vicious dogs

The many flaws in Ohio’s dog laws opened the door to tragedy in the months and days before Echelbarger’s death. Weak enforcement. Inadequate penalties. A failure to take seriously a looming danger.

Despite multiple opportunities to intervene before the fatal attack, no one did.

A year before Apollo and Echo mauled Echelbarger, Kimberlee Black encountered Apollo while walking her golden doodle puppy, Nemo, in the neighborhood around Kildow Court.

The pit bull went after both Black and her puppy. Black suffered lacerations and four broken bones, and she had to euthanize Nemo because the puppy’s injuries were so severe.

Black filed a complaint with the Pickaway County dog warden and assumed authorities would move quickly to address the threat posed by the Withers’ dogs. She soon learned otherwise.

In the months that followed, authorities gave Adam and Susan Withers leeway again and again. They did not have to euthanize Apollo. They didn’t have to buy liability insurance. They paid only a $25 fine and were ordered to get a dangerous dog license, keep the dogs muzzled and leashed and put up the “Beware of Dog” sign, which was tucked in the bottom of a window, behind a screened-in porch. A second sign was posted but not visible from the patio.

But the Withers either waited months to follow those orders or, in some cases, ignored them altogether. It took them 271 days to buy the required dangerous dog tag. They were repeatedly ticketed for failing to follow the rules, including keeping the dogs on leashes, but authorities never impounded the dogs. The law only lets the warden impound dogs found running loose or found not wearing valid dog tags.

Black was stunned by what she considered the authorities’ lack of concern for the threat that Apollo and Echo posed to her and her neighbors.

“I’ve lived in fear for a fricking year over a goddamn dog that has more rights to live and breathe than me,” said Black.

Black took it upon herself to warn her neighbors that the Withers’ dogs were more than menacing, as many already knew, but a physical threat to their safety. She also sued the Withers, arguing the dogs were dangerous.

Authorities had other chances to intervene. Five weeks before Echelbarger’s death, the judge overseeing the condo association’s lawsuit issued a civil order to immediately remove Apollo and Echo from the Withers’ home. The Withers did not follow the court’s instructions.

Another missed opportunity came in late September, three weeks before the attack on Echelbarger, when neighbors called police to report menacing dogs in the street. When police arrived, they said they found an intoxicated Adam Withers and his dogs.

Apollo was not muzzled or on a leash, as a court had ordered after the attack on Black.

According to police, Withers told them he had used cocaine in his garage. The officer noticed one of the dogs behaving erratically and said he believed both dogs were exposed to the drug. Police charged Adam Withers with disorderly conduct, but they did nothing about the dogs.

Ashville Police and the village officials declined to respond to criticisms.

Even on the day Echelbarger died, there was hesitation to act. When police officer Antonio Jester arrived on the scene, he found Echo, covered in Echelbarger’s blood, standing near her body.

His body camera captured this exchange:

“You want me to put the dog down?” Jester asked Acting Police Chief Daniel Mettler, who arrived at the same time.

Mettler paused. “Yeah,” he said. “Probably ought to.”

Echelbarger’s husband, stunned and distraught, pleaded with him to do it. “You got to kill it,” he said. “It attacked my wife.”

The officer asked again, and Mettler consented. Jester fired four shots. The dog yelped and ran back inside Withers’ condo before dying from its wounds. Police killed Apollo a short time later, running him over with a sheriff’s SUV and shooting him.

Roughly at the time of the attack, Adam Withers picked up his mom from work and the two went to a casino. When they got home, police had already left and they found Echo, dead inside on the hallway floor.

Both Adam and Susan Withers were charged with involuntary manslaughter and failure to confine their dogs. They pleaded not guilty.

On the witness stand in his own defense, Adam Withers told jurors he made sure to lock the front door before leaving the condo that day and he still has no idea how the dogs got out.

Ashville police testified at the trial that Withers’ front door didn’t latch. They had stuffed a towel in the hole where the deadbolt should have been.

In February, the mother and son showed no response when the judge read aloud in court the guilty verdict on all charges. Jo Ann’s family wept and hugged in the courtroom.

For the Echelbarger family, that’s too little, too late. Her adult children, Bill Rogers and Earlene Romine, place blame on a system that didn’t take the threat seriously until their mother was dead.

“I want answers. I want accountability for everyone that was reckless in this situation. And I want my mom’s death to mean something,” said Romine. “I want it to help the community so that this doesn’t happen to somebody else. This can never happen again. This is the most horrific thing that a person could go through, especially such a beautiful, wonderful person as my mom.”

For Echelbarger’s husband, Stanley, the loss is profound.

After the attack, he moved to a nursing home, ambling in on a walker. Since then, he’s lost 40 pounds and is mostly bedridden. He was unable to attend the trial.

“He lost the love of his life. He lost his caregiver. He lost his home,” Romine said. “I mean, he lost everything.”

10 years ago, lawmakers tried, and failed, to strengthen Ohio laws

Ohio’s dangerous dog laws, and the patchy enforcement system, failed to protect Echelbarger.

But the problem isn’t new.

A decade before her death, a strikingly similar case in Dayton revealed the same weaknesses and spurred a push to strengthen Ohio’s dog laws.

Klonda Richey’s neighbors’ dogs terrified her. The 57-year-old woman repeatedly complained to the Montgomery County dog warden, installed a fence around her yard in Dayton and asked for a civil protection order.

None of that protected her.

In February 2014, two mixed-Mastiff dogs savagely attacked Richey in her front yard while she took out her garbage. A passer-by found her bloodied, dead body in the snow on her front lawn. The dog owners, Andrew Nason and Julie Custer, were found guilty of failure to control dogs. The municipal court judge sentenced Nason to five months in jail and $500 in fines and Custer to three months in jail and $200 in fines.

Six years after her death, Montgomery County agreed to pay $3.5 million to settle a wrongful death lawsuit her family brought against the county and Mark Kumpf, its former dog warden, for failing to act prior to the fatal attack.

Beagle, the former Republican state lawmaker, was among six legislators to introduce reforms. His bill would’ve increased penalties to a possible felony charge for attacks that led to serious injuries or the death of a companion animal. It also would have allowed a court to order euthanasia of a dog after one attack, shifted the burden from the victim to the owner to prove whether the dog was provoked, and increased penalties for owners who ignore notices from dog wardens.

Beagle said he wanted to provide the legal options to put down a dog after the first serious injury attack and charge the owner with a felony.

His bill went nowhere.

What happened? Opponents didn’t like the idea that the government can seize a pet and put it down. Studies have found that half of Americans consider their dogs as much a family member as their human relatives.

The bill also met resistance over whether the government should be able to send someone to prison over their dogs’ behavior, or whether the government should set standards that allow authorities to euthanize them.

Looking back, Beagle said of his bill: “It was bold. In some respects, maybe it was too bold.”

Debate over tangential issues, such as dog tethering, bogged down the bill. Dog owners, wardens, veterinarians, prosecutors and animal rights groups all weighed in and tried to shape the bill. That kind of tug-of-war can doom legislation.

Six years ago, another lawmaker who supported stronger vicious dog laws, thought a new case might spur his colleagues to action.

At age 8, Savannah Coleman was playing in a neighbor’s backyard with her friend when a pit bull named Boss clamped down on her head. Another neighbor pulled the dog off her. Savannah underwent multiple surgeries and treatments at Dayton Children’s Hospital.

The dog owners paid a $120 fine, declared bankruptcy and moved out of the neighborhood.

Dumont, Savannah’s mother, reached out to Dayton area Republican lawmaker Niraj Antani. Together, they’d try, again, to change the dangerous dog laws.

Antani picked up where Beagle left off, introducing a bill in 2019. He named it after Savannah and used photos of the injured and bandaged child in a Statehouse press conference. Antani hoped highlighting a child victim would elicit sympathy and give the bill a fighting chance.

Again, the bill went nowhere.

“A lot of these cases are with children, and they’re dying or have disfigurements or lifelong injuries. And, you know, I’m just a mom trying to protect my kid and get justice for her,” Dumont said. “I don’t understand why other people are not in support of that.”

The consequences of that failure have been severe.

In the time since the Savannah Coleman legislation failed to pass, serious dog attacks have continued: in February 2023, a pit bull in Medina ripped off Lisa Reau’s right arm. In October 2022, cyclist Eva Simons lost her left leg in an attack in Vinton County. In December 2022, Michael Palmer lost both ears, both thumbs and a finger in a dog attack in Summit County. In February 2023, Bonnie Varnes, a school bus driver in the Toledo area, got pulled down in her backyard and mauled to death by her daughter’s dog, Amina.

Children often are among the victims. Nationwide, 1 million of the 4.7 million people bitten by dogs each year require medical treatment. Kids under 10 account for nearly half of the bite victims and are overrepresented in fatalities.

In December 2024, 3-year-old Kingsley Wright died when her family dogs attacked her in Cincinnati. In July 2024, 6-year-old Jaxson Dvorak died when his uncle’s dogs attacked him in Lorain. In December 2023, 21-month-old Amya Jeffrey died after being attacked by the family dog in Cardington, a village in Morrow County. In October 2021, toddler Ka’vay Louis-Calderon died when two family dogs attacked her in Akron. In August 2020, 7-month-old Javier Benavides was killed in a dog attack in Stow. In January 2020, 4-month-old McKenzie Terwell died when her family pit bull pulled her from the living room couch where she slept with her mother.

Dayton police responding to a 911 call found McKenzie’s dad, Parker Terwell, on his front porch, crying and holding his infant daughter’s lifeless body. Her left eye was gone, her head was mangled.

She was still wearing the black polka dot onesie that said “Happy.”

Often, as in McKenzie’s case, the attacking dogs are known to the victim. They live in their home or belong to a neighbor or friend. That can complicate efforts to write and enforce laws that protect people from dangerous dogs.

It also can complicate efforts to ensure dangerous dogs don’t get an opportunity to harm anyone and, if they do, to hold owners accountable, legally and financially, for their actions.

In West Chester, Amriel Wilkinson waited six years to win an undisclosed settlement from a homeowner’s insurance company after she was attacked at age 4 in 2018 by a Rottweiler.

She was with her aunt, Kianah Towe, at the Indian Hill house owned by Karl “Tuffy” Rhodes, a former Major League Baseball player. Kianah was dating Rhodes’ son. Rhodes, who was out of town at the time, said Towe had no right to be in his home that night, or to let his dogs out of his bedroom, where he said they were penned up.

Towe let the dogs outside and started a load of laundry. That’s when the dog attacked, tossing the child around, tearing her face, nose and buttocks.

Tiara Towe, Amriel’s mom, rushed to the hospital to meet them.

“My sister jumped out and she was covered head to toe in blood. And then Amriel got pulled out on the stretcher and that’s when I saw her whole right-side jawline, I saw her teeth, her jawbone. Everything was exposed and she was covered in blood, head to toe,” Towe said. “I was not expecting it to be that severe.”

After seven hours of surgery, Amriel began the long road to recovery. She had nine surgeries over the next several years.

Her medical expenses, covered by Ohio Medicaid, are approaching $1 million.

Amriel still bears the scars today. They spread across her cheeks, nose and lips like a crooked river system. One nostril is higher than the other. The right side of her mouth is tight, and her lips uneven. Sometimes, other kids ask her what happened.

“At first, it kind of made me upset,” Amriel said. “But now I get used to it.”

Rhodes, the dog’s owner, said his Rottweiler, Kane, had no history of aggressive behavior. He said he had an adult dog sitter while he was on vacation, the dogs were on his property, and he didn’t even know Amriel was at his house.

“I feel terrible about what happened to the little girl,” he said.

Rhodes opted to euthanize Kane 10 weeks after the attack.

“Kane was my last dog,” he said.

$1 million in bills, a leg amputation and a $46,000 insurance payout

While Amriel’s case is all too common in some respects, the resolution was not. Rhodes was insured and Amriel’s family secured a settlement.

Many victims of dog attacks struggle to win even modest financial compensation via civil lawsuits. The dog owner might not be insured or have financial resources. Often the only path is to sue the landlord who carries property insurance, arguing they knew their renters had dangerous dogs.

Still, insurance policies can exempt coverage for certain breeds or cap payouts well below what a victim might rack up in medical bills.

Columbus resident Eva Simons, 66, spent two years pursuing a settlement after she lost a leg in a dog attack in 2022. She ended up getting about $46,000.

Three pit bulls attacked Simons when she stopped after getting a flat tire while biking in Vinton County, near the Moonville Tunnel.

On the walk back to her car, the dogs charged out of a house on Shea Road.

“I started yelling, hoping that someone would run out of the house and get the dogs,” she said. “No one came.”

Simons fended them off briefly but then got knocked over. The three pit bulls − a mother and her 2-year-old male pups − dragged her into a field, ravaging both of her legs.

“I made a decision while it was happening. In order to save the rest of me, I just had to let them have the leg,” Simons said.

After 20 to 25 minutes, three Good Samaritans scared off the dogs, wrapped Simons in a blanket and hoodie and then raced through 25 miles of backroads to a local hospital.

The day after the attack, Simons said, the dog owners went trick-or-treating as surgeons cut off her left leg. “That was painful to know,” she said. “While I was still fighting for my life in the hospital, they just went on with their life.”

Following the amputation of her left leg, she endured excruciating debridement of her right leg, which had become infected. After 33 days in hospitals, Simons returned to her home in Clintonville. She had to re-learn how to shower, climb stairs, do laundry and other everyday activities.

“Everything is more challenging,” she said. “Every time I attempt something new, I have to think about how I’m going to do it.”

Two years after the attack, Simons is still outraged by what she sees as injustices and a lack of accountability. While she lost her leg, the dogs’ owner faced only misdemeanor charges for failing to register and confine his three dogs. He paid $682 in fines and court costs.

Simons estimates her medical bills, mostly covered by insurance, approached $1 million.

Simons sued the landlord who rented the house to the dog owners. The insurance policy capped liability coverage at $100,000 and after lawyers’ fees and paybacks to medical insurance companies, she netted $46,073.85.

“This is the only compensation I have received for the loss of my left leg, injuries to my right leg, pain and suffering, and most of all, living the rest of my life as an amputee, possibly facing complications and revision surgeries,” she said.

The insurance check and the dog owner’s fines are not enough for Simons.

“What bothers me is that there was no responsibility or accountability, other than the small fine they paid,” Simons said. “There was nothing stopping them from getting another pack of dogs and doing the same thing.”

Drew Russell understands that kind of frustration. Two pit bulls attacked her 11-year-old daughter, Avery, in June while she was playing with a friend at a home in Reynoldsburg. The dogs ripped off both her ears, gouged her cheek, forehead and abdomen.

When she got the call telling her to go directly to the pediatric hospital, Russell wasn’t thinking about Ohio’s dog laws or whether her fellow Ohioans take seriously the threat posed by dangerous dogs. She only was thinking about her daughter.

Her aunt told Russell to take photos of Avery’s injuries. Russell thought that was crazy. But she handed her cellphone to a nurse, who took the pictures.

“I’m glad I have them,” she said months later.

In the months after the attack, as her daughter endures a slow recovery, Russell decided to share the photos. She wants others to see what happens when a vicious dog attacks.

She hopes those photos inspire, and her daughter’s story, changes that will prevent other kids from suffering the same fate.

Russell hired Columbus attorney Bill Patmon III, whose father served in the Ohio House and carried the bill to make animal cruelty a felony.

They plan to lobby state lawmakers to reform dangerous dog laws. They’re talking about some of the same changes Beagle and Antani tried to achieve years ago. They want felony charges for dog owners in certain vicious attacks and euthanasia for dogs after the first serious injury or fatality. And they’re kicking around ways to require more robust insurance coverage and categorizing dogs over 25 pounds as potentially dangerous.

Russell wants to work with other families who have gone through the same trauma and loss.

“If we don’t fight or try to effect some kind of change, then what’s it all for? What’s all the suffering for?” she said. “Because it’s just going to keep happening.”

Akron Beacon Journal reporter Stephanie Warsmith and Columbus Dispatch reporter Max Filby contributed to this report.

Laura Bischoff is a reporter for the USA TODAY Network Ohio Bureau, which serves the Columbus Dispatch, Cincinnati Enquirer, Akron Beacon Journal and 18 other affiliated news organizations across Ohio.

Don’t let the clock run out: if you’ve been injured allowing the statute of limitations to expire could stop you from receiving the justice and just compensation you deserve

Attorney David Betras
BKM Managing Partner David Betras

Statutes of limitations (SOL), laws that establish the maximum amount of time that parties involved in civil or criminal matter have to initiate a legal action, have been with us since the days of the Greek Republic and the Roman empire, which means they have been vexing and frustrating attorneys and citizens for thousands of years. And believe me, there are very few things as frustrating as having to tell someone who has been injured or wronged in some way that I can’t help them because the SOL that applies to their situation has run out.

In the vast majority of cases, it is not the potential client’s fault—aside from those of us who practice law most people have no idea that SOLs even exist or what the time limits are. To address that dilemma and reduce the chance that one of my loyal readers will be denied justice because the jurisprudential clock has run out, this week’s column will serve as a primer on this ancient, complicated, and confusing area of the law.

One caveat—how’s that for throwing a little Latin lawyerly lingo into mix—because SOLs are complicated and critical to the pursuit and disposition of cases, the information I’m providing should not be construed as legal advice. If you have been injured or harmed in some way and believe you have a cause of action, please, please, please consult the attorney of your choice immediately. Waiting too long or failing to do so could result in the courthouse door being needlessly slammed in your face—you should not allow that to happen.

Now, onto the topic of the day. Let’s begin with a look at the SOL that applies to personal injury cases like vehicle accidents, dog bites, product liability, premises liability which in common parlance is referred to as “slip and fall” and harm caused by other types of negligence. Under Ohio law the injured party has two years from the date the incident occurred to file suit. In addition, if a loved one is killed as a result of another party’s negligence families have two years from the date of death to file a wrongful death claim.  

Here’s a tip: don’t wait 23 months and 29 days to seek legal advice. It’s far better to explore whether you have a valid claim than to let the clock run out.

You probably noticed that medical malpractice was not listed above. That’s because med mal claims must be filed within one year of the date the injury was or should have been discovered or when the doctor/patient relationship ended, whichever occurs later. This more flexible time frame exists because it may not be immediately apparent that an injury has occurred.

In the interest of fairness, I feel compelled to note that the statute of limitations for legal malpractice mirrors the med mal SOL. Clients have one year from the date they discover or should have discovered that malpractice occurred or when the attorney-client relationship ends, whichever is later.

There is, however, a complicating factor when it comes to malpractice: something known as a statute of repose which sets a virtually non-flexible time limit for bringing actions against practitioners in Ohio. That means claims against attorneys, doctors, dentists, optometrists, and chiropractors must be brought no later than four years after the alleged malpractice took place.

There are exceptions—of course there are…Anyway, if a client exercising reasonable care and diligence, could not have discovered the legal malpractice within three years after the occurrence of the act or omission, but discovers it before the expiration of the four-year period they have a year after the discovery to bring an action.

A similar exemption exists for med mal and there’s a bonus exception: the statute of repose does not apply to situations in which a foreign object is left in a patient’s body during a procedure. If a scalpel turns up in an x-ray ten years after you had surgery, you’re free to file suit.

Here’s the bottom line: SOLs and statutes of repose were created to protect defendants, particularly those who are rich and powerful. Are they fair to injury victims and other plaintiffs? Probably not, but they won’t be disappearing in our lifetime, if ever, so it’s up to every citizen to avail themselves of the civil justice system when the need arises. 

Jury finds that 20-year-old died as a result of medical negligence. Betras, Kopp & Markota secures $2,000,000 wrongful death award for family of Megan Clay

From exploding Pintos to out of control Teslas, trial lawyers fight to make cars safer

Attorney David BetrasOn August 10, 1978, three teenage girls, sisters Lyn and Judy Ulrich and their cousin Donna traveling to volley practice on Route 33 in Goshen, Indiana were incinerated when the gas tank in their 1973 Ford Pinto exploded after the vehicle was rear-ended by a van. Technically speaking, they were killed in an auto accident. In reality, however, they were murdered by corporate greed.

That is because Ford executives, including President Lee Iacocca, knew the Pinto was a four-wheeled death trap. Rushed into production in 1970 after only two years of development and testing, the Pinto was Ford’s response to the influx of foreign-made subcompact cars into the American market that began in the late ‘60s. During the design process company engineers sounded alarms about the gas tank which was, for a number of reasons, vulnerable to rupture in low-speed rear-end collisions. They were also concerned because a large empty space behind the backseat allowed the entire back third of the car to crumple, wedging the body and frame tightly against the car doors, making them virtually impossible to open.

Fixing the lethal combination of an exploding gas tank and jammed doors would have cost the company $15 per Pinto. Iacocca’s response: “Safety doesn’t sell.” Not surprisingly, the boss’ attitude permeated the company when attorneys representing people injured and killed in the exploding cars unearthed what became known as the “Pinto Memo.” Prepared to help Ford block new fuel system safety standards being proposed by the National Highway Transportation Safety Administration (NHTSA), the memo’s authors estimated it would cost Ford $11 per vehicle or $137 million to comply with the new regulations. They weighed that against the $50 million in litigation and settlements costs the company would incur if the cars were not made safer. Their conclusion: “the implementation costs far outweigh the expected benefits.

Picture of Tesla that rear ended a fire truck.And so the company continued to manufacture and sell the deadly vehicles for more than a decade. During that time between 500 and 900 people were burned to death. The Pinto was not pulled from the market until the cost of settling lawsuits filed on behalf of the victims and the attendant negative publicity made the car unprofitable.

I was reminded of the Pinto debacle when I read a New York Times article about a series of accidents caused by Tesla’s autopilot system. The story focused on the death of 22-year-old Naibel Benavides who was killed when a Model S in autopilot mode traveling 66 MPH on a city street ran a stop sign and slammed into the parked Chevy Tahoe in which she was sitting. The car’s brakes were never applied.

While a Tesla is as different from a Pinto as the Wright Brothers’ plane is from an F-16, the cause of the crashes that killed the Ulrich’s and Ms. Benavides are the same: placing pursuit of profit ahead of people. Unlike Ford, GM, and other carmakers who use technology to restrict their systems to divided highways where there are no stop signs, traffic lights or pedestrians, Tesla allows drivers to use autopilot anywhere and everywhere. The results are predictable and tragic: the number of accidents involving Tesla’s system is skyrocketing.

And I suspect that lawsuits filed by victims are the only thing that will stop the carnage.

Every time I think of the victims we represent or read reports about companies who place no value on human life, I am reminded of why I went to law school, why I go to work every day, and why we should all fight to preserve the civil justice system that makes our world a safer place to live.

David Betras: I’ve never filed a frivolous lawsuit…

Medical MalpracticeFrivolous, adjective: not having any serious purpose or value.

My decades-long legal career has been filled with interesting cases, challenging litigation, and high-stakes trials. But in all my years as a member of the bar, there is one thing I have never done: file a frivolous lawsuit.

That makes me an anomaly in the eyes of the insurance industry, the American Medical Association, the U. S. Chamber of Commerce, and others who claim frivolous lawsuits filed by ambulance-chasing attorneys clog our courts, are responsible for skyrocketing insurance premiums and health care costs, force doctors to practice “defensive medicine” and generally make the world a horrible place to live.

At least that is what they say when they are pushing the passage of tort “reform” legislation that slams the courthouse door in the face of Americans seriously injured or killed because someone else was negligent or reckless.

Along with venting my resentment at having my life’s work denigrated and dismissed as frivolous, a number of things motivated me to once again note that restricting access to the civil justice system makes the world a more dangerous place for our families: The drive to enact tort reform laws is continuing unabated in state legislatures across the nation.

Iowa, Missouri, Texas and Florida, where I will soon be licensed to practice, are among the states attacking victim’s rights. Here in Ohio, an effort to reverse a Draconian cap on non-economic damages is being blocked by the special interest groups and Republicans who imposed the limit in 2004.

A new report issued by the Center for Law and Justice at New York Law School thoroughly debunks many of the myths obscuring the truth about medical malpractice in the U.S. This free-to-download, 172-page publication provides a comprehensive review of the latest statistics about litigation, cost, access to doctors, insurance and patient safety.

I found the following facts to be especially compelling:

  • Experts agree that when cases are filed, they are not “frivolous.” Among the experts is Victor Schwartz, General Counsel of the American Tort Reform Association who admitted in 2011 that “It is ‘rare or unusual’ for a plaintiff lawyer to bring a frivolous malpractice suit…”
  • Litigation and settlements enhance patient safety. Tort reform laws put patients at risk.
  • Neither “tort reforms” nor “caps on damages” lower insurance premiums for doctors.
  • Stripping away patients’ legal rights will not reduce health care costs and may actually increase them.

Finally, a case being litigated by our office underscores how serious and difficult our work is.

While I am unable to discuss the matter in detail, it involves a client who was horribly injured during a medical procedure some time ago. Since agreeing to represent the victim, we have devoted hundreds of hours and tens of thousands of dollars to trial prep and gone toe-to-toe and face-to-face with insurers, defense attorneys and health care providers determined to trivialize our client’s life-altering, lifelong injuries.

Whenever I look at the photos of this client or the hundreds of others we have represented over the years I am reminded of the fact that “frivolous” is the last word that can be used to describe what we do.

Mahoning Matters shines spotlight on area nursing homes, abuse and neglect of seniors

We would like to applaud Mahoning Matters for its in-depth series on area nursing homes. According to the report, conditions at two area nursing homes, Warren’s White Oak Manor and the Oasis Center for Rehabilitation and Healing are especially troubling. Reporters also found that 11 of the 46 nursing facilities located in Mahoning and Trumbull counties were rated below or far below average by the Center for Medicare and Medicaid Services (CMMS). You can view inspection reports for facilities in Mahoning County here. Info on Trumbull County nursing homes may be found here. You can access a list of ratings for every nursing home in Ohio and across the U.S. here. We urge you to review the ratings and reports before selecting a nursing home or assisted living facility for someone you love.

Along with its reports CMMS’ Your Guide to Choosing a Nursing Home or Other Long-Term Service and Supports is an incredibly valuable resource for families and seniors. We recommend that you study the booklet and use its Nursing Home Checklist to help you evaluate and select a nursing home or assisted living facility. You can view and download the publication here. 02174-nursing-home-other-long-term-services

Here are some important factors to consider when you visit a facility during the selection process:
Facility layout, ambiance, residents

  • Is the facility clean and well-lit? Do you detect any odors? Is it attractive to you? Is it warm and enticing?
  • How is the temperature in the building?
  • How are the noise levels?
  • How is the layout of the various floors? Is it easy to get from your room to a common area?
  • Are there handrails in the hallways, rooms, and bathrooms?
  • Are the furnishings comfortable?
  • How do the residents look? Are they well-groomed and dressed?
  • How many residents to one room?
  • What are you allowed to bring when moving in?
  • Is there closet or storage space available? Do they have locks on them?
  • Do the residents have access to a telephone and a television? Is there an extra charge for these services?
  • Is there a secure outdoor area?
  • What are the demographics like? Will your loved one feel like they fit in? Will the staff be sensitive to any non-traditional family arrangements?

Staff

  • What kind of certification does the staff have?
  • What kind of staff are available on a 24-hour-basis?
  • How many registered nurses work there on each shift?
  • How the staff speak to and interact with the residents? Are they friendly and kind? Is the staff respectful of residents’ privacy?
  • How does the staff enter a resident’s room? Do they knock? Do they close the door when helping residents bathe and get dressed?

If a family member or loved one is already in a facility, be on the lookout for these signs of abuse and neglect:

  • Weight Loss
  • Bruises or Welts
  • Frequent Swelling
  • Dehydration
  • Bedsores
  • Soiled Clothing or Bed Sheets
  • Changes In Attitude or Mood

If your loved one appears withdrawn, fearful, or depressed you should be concerned. And if they complain about the treatment they are receiving or say they feel threatened by staff or other residents, listen and then bring the situation to the attention of the home’s administration at once. Then contact us right away by calling 330-746-8484 or 800-877-2889. We’ll listen to your concerns, evaluate the situation, give you our best advice, help protect your loved one, and fight for the justice and just compensation you and your family member need and deserve.