Rothenberg Paroled Under Strict Controls

Charles David Rothenberg was released from prison Wednesday under the tightest parole measures in California history--nearly seven years after he burned his son beyond recognition in a twisted plot to hurt the wife who divorced him.

At 12:40 a.m., Rothenberg was driven from an undisclosed California prison under guard by six parole agents, who delivered him to an unnamed parole destination sometime before 9 a.m., officials said.

Dressed in blue jeans and a chambray shirt and toting two boxes of personal belongings, a prison spokesman said, Rothenberg’s only remark upon release was, “I’m afraid and upset.”

To prevent him from getting anywhere near his son--and to calm public indignation about his release--Rothenberg will wear an electronic “leash” so he can be monitored, and three parole agents will alternate living with him.

David Rothenberg, 13, told a throng of 50 reporters and photographers at an afternoon press conference that his fears about his father’s release have been reduced.

“I feel more comfortable because now I know . . . what kind of parole he’s going to be put on,” said David, who agreed to discuss his father’s parole at the Buena Park police station, where his stepfather works. “I think I’m in good hands.”

David said he held the press conference “because I want it known nationally that I don’t want to ever see my father again. And I want to make it clear to him.”

While authorities have refused to identify where Rothenberg was sent Wednesday for fear such a disclosure would result in costly relocations, they said he has a clerical job in private enterprise that will “at least pay for his room and board.”

Tipton C. Kindel, spokesman for the state Department of Corrections, said Rothenberg’s living quarters “are essentially some type of an apartment setting.”

Rothenberg, 49, pleaded guilty to attempted murder, arson and other charges stemming from the March 3, 1983, fire in a Buena Park motel room that permanently disfigured his son. He was sentenced to 13 years, the maximum penalty allowed by state law that has since been toughened. Were he sentenced today, he could be sent to prison for life.

State law allows prisoners a day off their sentence for each day they work or participate in an education program. Rothenberg held a clerical job in the Soledad state prison’s public information office and had worked since last fall as a groundskeeper at the California Men’s Colony in San Luis Obispo. His sentence was effectively cut in half by the work.

Concern about public reaction to Rothenberg’s pending release forced corrections officials to keep his parole destination a secret. A family that two years ago offered to help Rothenberg upon his release now says it has received death threats. Another inmate at the California Men’s Colony, enraged at what Rothenberg did to his son, punched him in the face on Jan. 10. And a Riverside County hamlet rejected his parole there last year.

Authorities have said they fear a repeat of the Lawrence Singleton debacle. In that case, the man convicted of raping a teen-age girl and axing off her forearms was driven out of several Northern California communities by citizens outraged at his prison release. After repeated relocations that cost the state $2 million, he finally served out his parole in a trailer at San Quentin.

Nonetheless, it will cost $648,000 over the next three years--until his parole expires--to monitor Rothenberg, compared with the $2,900 annual cost to keep tabs on a less-notorious parolee. Kindel said the $18,000 monthly expense to keep Rothenberg will go largely toward paying the salaries and benefits of the parole agents who will watch Rothenberg 24 hours a day.

Kindel added that authorities “may re-evaluate” at a later date the need to continue such an extensive watch on Rothenberg.

Asked what kind of employer would tolerate a parole agent accompanying Rothenberg to work every day, Kindel said, “a very cooperative one.”

Although technically free, Rothenberg will be under the tightest parole restrictions of any released prisoner in the state, Kindel said. Singleton also lived with parole agents and other parolees have worn the cigarette pack-size transmitters that allow parole officials to electronically track them. But no other inmate has been subject to both, Kindel said.

Rothenberg’s parole restrictions also forbid him from any contact with his son and his ex-wife, Marie Hafdahl, who married Buena Park Police Lt. Richard Hafdahl in May, 1988.

Gray-haired and 40 pounds lighter than he appears in 2-year-old newspaper photos, Rothenberg has repeatedly insisted that he would never again hurt his son. He has said in numerous letters to The Times that he will never forgive himself for permanently disfiguring David. But he also says that meeting with his son to “ask his forgiveness” is his only reason for living.