PASO ROBLES, Calif. — At least eight times in the last three years, unruly wards at the state's El Paso de Robles Youth Correctional Facility were marched into the prison gymnasium, placed in handcuffs and made to kneel, sometimes until their legs went numb.
The young men, some of whom were on and off their knees through the day, settled onto thin mattresses at night. But sleep did not come easily. Guards performed "cuff checks" on the hour; some wards who dozed off complained that they were kicked awake.
As the ordeal continued, some prisoners who were put back onto their knees threw up or fainted. Others who couldn't hold out for the infrequent bathroom breaks were left to sit in urine-soaked clothing, wards and former staff members said.
On more than one occasion, this "temporary detention," known as "gym TD," lasted three days or more, with wards cuffed around the clock--a practice virtually unheard of in prisons elsewhere.
"They don't treat you like wards, they treat you like animals," said Ulises De Latorre, 18, of Buena Park, a veteran of such a session last May who is serving time for auto theft.
John Scott, a San Francisco attorney who has handled many correctional law cases, reviewed the handcuffing policy and said: "The worst of the worst in adult prisons are in better conditions than this."
Officials at the prison deny that they use the gym sessions to punish or abuse prisoners. They said prolonged detention is intended only to separate and control wards for their own safety when violence erupts inside the open barracks that house up to 55 prisoners.
But the practice of "gym TD" is emblematic of a transformation in the California Youth Authority, the agency responsible for some of the state's toughest young criminals. The Youth Authority spends $427 million a year to house 7,563 wards in 11 institutions and four firefighting camps.
In recent years, the agency's mission to rehabilitate and train wards of the state has been supplanted by a culture of punishment, control and, sometimes, brutality, The Times found in a wide-ranging review that included dozens of interviews and inspection of internal Youth Authority documents.
The state's once-heralded attempts to rehabilitate young offenders, ages 12 to 25, were de-emphasized as former Gov. Pete Wilson and the Legislature focused on punishment.
