Bill Would Lift Limits on Abuse Suits

Roman Catholic officials and plaintiff attorneys expect a flood of lawsuits against the church’s 12 California dioceses if the Legislature passes a bill that would make it easier for victims of long-ago childhood sexual abuse to sue.

The bill, unanimously passed by the state Senate last month and now being considered by the Assembly, applies to any institution or company where a known molester continued to work and went on to abuse another child. However, it was drafted in direct response to the ongoing Catholic Church abuse scandal, in which many victims have had old molestation incidents thrown out of court by the statute of limitations.

The bill would give these victims a second chance by suspending the statute of limitations for one year, beginning in January. Regardless of when the abuse occurred, accusers could file suit against the church during 2003 if the hierarchy “knew or had reason to know” about a priest’s sexual misconduct and “failed to take reasonable steps to avoid similar, future acts.”

“This legislation is huge for victims,” said John Manly, a Costa Mesa attorney. He said a number of his clients would be able to file suits under the proposed law.

“It will enable them to right the wrongs the church has knowingly perpetrated for the last 40 years,” he said.

Because of public pressure, the bill hasn’t faced any formal opposition. But some Catholic officials wonder if, by removing the statute of limitations for a year, the pendulum has swung too far.

“I do hope some safeguards are put into the bill so those who deserve to be compensated, can be compensated, and those who would just use this as an opportunity to file fraudulent suits will be discouraged,” said one high-ranking Catholic official, speaking on the condition of anonymity.

Current state law allows victims of childhood sexual abuse to sue until their 26th birthday or until three years after discovering that their emotional problems were linked to a molestation. In the latter case, only the perpetrator--not the institution--can be sued.

Attorneys for some victims recently have tried to work around statute-of-limitations barriers by filing fraud and conspiracy suits against church leaders, alleging they protected known criminals and gave victims the impression that their molestation was an insolated case and had been properly handled.

Spokespersons for the bill’s co-authors, state Sens. Martha Escutia (D-Whittier) and John Burton (D-San Francisco), said they acted in response to months of recent revelations about the way some Catholic bishops protected priests known to have a history of abusing minors.

“If this happens, once again California will be the leader in the country protecting the rights of victims of sexual abuse,” said Sue Griffith, a Long Beach therapist whose son’s lawsuit against a Catholic priest was tossed out of court because of the statute of limitations. “The timing is just perfect.”

Edward E. Dolejsi, executive director of the California Catholic Conference, a Sacramento-based lobbying group for the state’s dioceses, said his organization has taken no position on the bill.

The lack of political muscle in the state Capitol is new to Catholic lobbyists, who waged a spirited but unsuccessful campaign in 1996 to keep priests from being added as “mandatory reporters” of child sexual abuse.

The law makes it a misdemeanor for such people to fail to report to law enforcement officers any suspicion that a child may have been abused.

Catholic officials said they were concerned only that the sanctity of confession--a sacrament of the church--would be damaged, though the legislation exempted those conversations.

The problem for Catholic priests: General conversations often lead to confessions, and it’s difficult to separate the two for both clerics and the confessor.

“The 12 Catholic dioceses of California have developed procedures to deal quickly and effectively with suspected or real child abuse,” wrote Msgr. E. James Petersen, then executive director of the California Catholic Conference, during discussions on the 1996 bill. The bill will lead all involved “into a morass of uncharted area, immense confusion and constitutional conflict.”

At one point, church pressure was great enough to get the legislation killed, though victims’ advocates rallied to convince lawmakers to reconsider.

“We started our telephone trees at 6 a.m. in the morning, and got the message to the legislators,” said Donald Hoard of Petaluma, whose son was molested by a Northern California priest. “And boom, they reversed themselves. That was pretty dramatic. It made us feel good that we could command that kind of pressure.”

After three months, during which time church theologians reviewed and approved the bill’s wording, church officials decided to back the legislation a few days before its final passage.