Elder Abuse

No one would have ever looked at Loretta Bowersock, a beautiful 69-year-old woman – fashionable clothes, impeccably groomed, jeweled hands – and guessed that she was an abused woman. She was neither the type nor the age that we think of when we think of domestic violence. Instead, we think of disheveled young women with black eyes and young children in tow – lovely senior citizens just don’t fit the image.

Yet, this well-known Phoenix businesswoman paid the ultimate price of domestic violence – more than likely, her abusive boyfriend of 18 years killed her and buried her in the desert, where she was found more than a year later. (See related story)
Her death made a lot of people take notice, and if her grieving daughter has anything to say about it, her mom’s death will make elderly women everywhere wake up to what might be happening.

Terri Bowersock, who with her mother created Terri’s Consign & Design Furnishings and made it into a national consignment chain, wants to be sure that women know there are options if they’re facing abuse – physical, emotional, sexual, financial or neglect. In other words, she’s using the sorrow of her mother’s death to bring hope to others.

Domestic violence is an old story in this state. We’ve long held the horrible distinction of being one of the most deadly places for women in America. Even though we’re a small state in terms of population, we’ve been as high as No. 2 in the nation for deaths due to domestic violence. In 2005, we ranked No. 7.

Although that number has gone down, we do rank No. 1 in elder abuse, a new chapter of that old story that many expect to be the next focus of domestic violence in the country. Arizona has the nation’s first shelter devoted exclusively to elder abuse victims. And as the nation ages – as the baby boomers enter their senior years – everyone expects this problem to travel with them into old age. Meanwhile, the Phoenix Police Department already has a dedicated unit to investigate elder abuse and exploitation.

But the sad reality is that we’re ahead of the curve because the problem has already hit home here. Again and again and again.

They call the elder shelter Doves, because it implies peace. And for many of the women who call this shelter home, it’s the first peace they’ve known in years, sometimes in decades.

Terri Bowersock understands the importance of the shelter. That’s why proceeds from her new business, Still N Style, which was created during the year she was searching the desert for her mother’s body, will help support Doves. She says she is doing this because, even though it is too late for her own mother, she wants other mothers to know that it is never too late to get out, to get away, to get safe.

“The golden years should not be black and blue.” It’s a chilling slogan, but it strikes directly at one of society’s dirtiest and ugliest secrets: Abuse of the elderly is a growing national disgrace.

Some women have grown old suffering at the hands of their abusers, sometimes while their own children look the other way. Some senior citizens are experiencing violence late in life in care homes that are supposed to be safe havens. Some have lived with it for so long they are convinced they won’t be free until they’re in their graves.

Although she’s a professional, Doves director Alice Ghareib admits that even she has been aghast sometimes at what elderly victims go through.

“We’ve had women completely disowned by their kids because they finally spoke up and sought help,” she says. “Remember, if mom leaves dad, that shifts responsibility for mom to the adult children. So, they hear, ‘Come on now, why rock the boat after 43 years of marriage?’ or, ‘Come on, you’ve lived long enough with him to know how to handle him.'”

She tells the story of one Sun City woman who was cut by her husband, and the blood stained the living room rug. The woman placed a big pot over the spot, and when she finally reached out for help, a grandson admitted that the family had known all along what she was hiding.

Hiding is a big issue for elderly victims of abuse – hiding because of fear, because of intimidation, because of shame, because they long ago took vows that said marriage was “for better or worse.”

Oftentimes, it’s a woman who has devoted her entire life to raising and caring for her family. So, is it any surprise that she believes her needs are not as important as her family’s?

Invariably, this is a woman financially dependent on her spouse. She probably has cultural or religious views that tell her to stay put. She has no idea where she would go if she didn’t stay at home and take it.

“This generation, for the most part, didn’t work outside the home,” Ghareib says. “They have no social security of their own, no pension of their own, no job skills of their own. Some of them have difficulty even admitting they’re victims of domestic violence. They think it just means he hits you, and so they wonder if the emotional or exploitative abuse they’re suffering really is abuse at all.”

“The physical abuse can go away,” says “Anne,” who is currently living at the shelter after years of abuse from her parents and then her spouse. “But the emotional abuse doesn’t go away. It’s in your heart.”

At first, the agency established a hot line that women could call to report problems and ask for help. That first cry for help, no matter how tentative, generally sets in motion a system that leads to a new life.

“We first assess your safety – is he physically abusive, and if he is, are there guns in the house?” Ghareib explains. (Of course, as Loretta Bowersock’s death indicates, you don’t need weapons in a home for a woman to be in mortal danger. Her killer used the plastic bag from the produce department of a local grocery store to smother her.) “If they are in physical danger,” Ghareib adds, “we offer emergency housing. If not, we offer a support group.”

Professionals then take over the case to fill in the blanks, and when you listen to them, you get the distinct impression that these professionals feel as if they’re helping their own parents – as they talk about the victims, there’s a tenderness normally reserved for one’s own elders.

The support groups are where these women gather to discuss their situations and learn about their options – often realizing for the first time that they really do have options. “The more options you have the better decisions you’ll make,” Ghareib stresses.

She estimates there are “thousands” of women in the Valley suffering from elder abuse. About 100 a year attend the agency’s support groups, and one of the things they learn is that what’s been happening to them is criminal.

Since January 2003, the Phoenix Police Department has gone after late-life abuse with a three-officer Vulnerable Adult Crimes Unit that investigates both exploitation and abuse. Detective Ted Evertsen runs the squad. He says San Diego has a similar squad, but he isn’t aware of any others. “The Southwest is the leader in this,” he says, because of the aging population that’s already here and the giant “baby boomer” population that’s turning 60.

Vulnerable adults can be exploited or abused by family members, caregivers or strangers who show up and offer help. Beware, he says, of the stranger who ingratiates himself or herself to an elderly person, offering to run errands and stop by the bank for convenience. The code of ethics for caregivers in nursing or assisted-living homes says they are never to be involved in a client’s financial matters. And family members who try to isolate an older person should be suspected of having devious motives: “They isolate and then take control,” Evertsen warns.

Evertsen offers a good piece of advice for anyone who suspects that someone they love is being abused – a message you probably haven’t heard before: “Don’t talk yourself out of it. Don’t say, ‘Oh, there’s probably nothing wrong, it’s just my imagination.’ If you suspect something is wrong, it probably is. It’s good to be a little suspicious, to snoop around.”

Be prepared, he warns, because victims often become defensive when someone accuses a loved one of exploiting them – don’t let that derail you. “Family members and kids need to be aware – anything is possible, and kids need to realize that.”

He echoes a message that the Area Agency on Aging keeps repeating: Education is important to make people see what’s happening. “I hope more and more people become aware, because this is going to get bigger,” Evertsen says.

Arizona law states that violence against anyone is a crime, so domestic violence isn’t a “family matter,” as some would prefer to think of it. And you can’t brush off exploitation, either. “It’s not nice to steal from grandma,” Evertsen says. “It’s criminal.”

Getting elderly women out of physical danger became a high priority. They needed a shelter in a Valley that, while building new shelters as fast as it can, never has enough. At first, these women were sent to the existing shelters that take in women and children of all ages, but that quickly proved inadequate.

“The dynamics of domestic violence are the same no matter how old you are, but how the women experience them and the degree to which they experience them is different,” Ghareib says.

In the regular shelters, women usually arrive with children and are housed in communal rooms, often with several bunk beds in a room. Sometimes, the shelters are two-story buildings, and there is a requirement that everyone does chores. None of that really works for an older woman.

“If there are stairs, forget it,” Ghareib says. “They are more comfortable in small, private rooms without the noise and activity of children. Hallways are not always wide enough to accommodate walkers, nor do they have ‘grab bars’ in the bathrooms or raised toilet seats. We’ve found that elderly victims have special needs.”

In addition, the older women were far more comfortable talking in groups of women like themselves, rather than with younger women. And so the agency started looking.

Like the women they were trying to save, they found an old, worn down and abused place to give a new life. The apartment complex was probably spiffy in its day, but in recent years, it was pretty much falling apart.

“The paint was chipping, the plumbing rusty, the units were filled with soiled carpets, the landscaping had been let go completely, and the pool was greener than the grass.”
That’s how Wally Sjolander, senior vice president of the Area Agency on Aging, remembers the 20-unit complex they stumbled upon in Central Phoenix.

The one-story bungalows formed a “U” around the slimy pool, and you really had to be a person of faith to envision this as someplace wonderful. But they did. Besides, they were desperate.

They were seeing an increasing problem of abused, exploited and neglected people – mainly women, but a man now and then, too – from not only private homes, but from nursing homes and assisted housing as well. They needed a shelter for these victims of late-life domestic violence.

The woman who owned the complex lived out of state, but agreed to rent to them until they could secure the financing to buy the place. They found yet another “angel” in Phoenix Councilmember Peggy Bilsten, who helped them get $1 million in Phoenix housing funds. In addition, the Arizona State Housing Trust gave them $300,000 for remodeling. And then they found a whole chorus of angels who either donated items or gave them great discounts.

They purchased the property on May 16, 2003, and spent a year remodeling. There’s still work to be done, and they are fixing as they go, but they’re up and running, and they’ve already had 16 “graduates” who now are living elsewhere on their own. They can house 19 people at a time.

Among those who helped make the shelter a reality is Gary Gietz, a master builder who donated $30,000 worth of remodeling to make one unit a “community center” where the residents get together for group meetings, socializing and communal holiday dinners. Help also came in the form of grants from the Virginia G. Piper Foundation and the Nina Mason Pulliam Charitable Trust.

Students of the interior design school at Scottsdale Community College decorated each bungalow and donated all of the furnishings. One room has an Asian theme. Another features Southwest décor, and another looks like a beach house.
Sears donated more than half of the appliances for the units. Paddock Pools renovated the pool at cost. Multi-Com installed alarm systems in the units and gives the agency a reduced monthly fee.

At Thanksgiving, food boxes arrived from Tanner Chapel AME Church. The Phoenix Civitans prepared and served Christmas dinners for the women. The Trilogy Quilters from a retirement community in Gilbert made and donated quilts to each woman who lives there. And now, Terri Bowersock has pledged her help as well in memory of her murdered mother.

Of course, there are ongoing needs and, as Ghareib explains, “We’re not too proud to beg.”

Among other things, they need volunteers to help operate Dovetails, their specialty and second-hand store. They need a volunteer handyman who can stop by a couple of times a month to do whatever. They need cleaning supplies and toilet items. The full-sized beds could use new linens. And gift cards to grocery stores are always welcome.

“This is a safe haven,” Anne says of the place she’s called home for a year. She speaks lovingly of how her life has changed. “Just picture a little dove. Through a little love and a little knowledge, she learns to heal and learns to fly and be free.”

For anyone needing help, call 602-264-4357. To volunteer or make a donation, call 602-264-2255.