AJ Freund and drug-addicted parents: When DCFS should remove a child

Carrying signs and blowing soapy bubbles, members of an advocacy group that formed following the murder of Andrew “AJ” Freund celebrated his Oct. 14 birthday with a memorial walk. He would have turned 6.

The group calls itself ROAR for AJ. Members protest outside the McHenry County courthouse on dates the two people accused of killing him — his parents, Andrew Freund and JoAnn Cunningham — are expected in court. The group has gathered outside the home where prosecutors say the pair forced AJ into a cold shower and beat him to death, then stored his body in a plastic container for several days.

ROAR for AJ plans to keep pressure on the Illinois Department of Children and Family Services, which had numerous contacts with the family but missed the chance to protect AJ and potentially save his life. Lots of people missed the chance.

From social workers to law enforcement, and even a heating contractor who flagged down police after seeing the decrepit insides of AJ’s home, dozens of individuals who interacted with the family saw signs that AJ lived in a house of peril. Freund and Cunningham’s spiral into drug abuse accelerated in the months leading up to AJ’s death. But their cycles of addiction and alleged violence had been churning for years. Police had been called to the house numerous times. Cunningham had been found unresponsive in her car and, in another instance, fighting with a boyfriend over pain pills. Neighbors had called police when the

The agency needs to update its practices when dealing with hardcore addicts. Get kids out. Get them safe.

house appeared to have no electricity. Hospital workers found bruises on AJ.

Questions for DCFS: At what point does evidence of drug addiction warrant child removal? At what point does a feces-filled home warrant child removal? At what point does suspicious bruising in combination with all these other circumstances warrant removal?

In a gut-socking two-part series published online last week (and in print beginning Sunday), Tribune reporter Christy Gutowski describes AJ’s fragile entry into the world and his violent exit. His parents face numerous charges in his death. Freund is said to be working toward the resolution of his case, the Tribune reports. Cunningham in a recent jailhouse interview claimed her innocence.

Prosecutors say AJ was killed on April 15. His parents didn’t report him missing for three more days. His body was found wrapped in plastic and buried in a shallow grave. DCFS’ inspector general is conducting an investigation that will show employees “failed to see the totality” of the family’s troubled history and missed chances “to slow down or stop the steady deterioration of the Freund family,” according to Gutowski’s reporting. Look for several employees to face severe discipline.

While AJ’s case has drawn national attention, he is not the only victim of alleged child abuse who went undetected by DCFS. The agency too often leans toward keeping families together, even in crisis.

America is gripped by an opioid crisis that requires a more aggressive approach by law enforcement and child advocacy workers to separate children from addicted, out-of-control parents. Drug overdose deaths have more than doubled in the last 10 years. And Illinois has been hit hard. Since 2013, drug overdose deaths in the state have jumped by 60 percent to an estimated 2,525 last year. Those involving opioids have nearly doubled.

In her jailhouse interview with CBS 2 Chicago, Cunningham called heroin “the devil.”

DCFS case workers should know what they’re dealing with: devils. Opioid addiction is powerful and too often, irreversible. The agency needs to update its practices when dealing with hardcore addicts. Get kids out. Get them safe. AJ would be alive had someone done it.

Protecting vulnerable children is a paramount responsibility of the state, yet DCFS’ record is marred by missed chances resulting in tragedies. Each of those cases hurts, as each of those children is mourned, including AJ.