The Killing of Lisa Steinberg
The City That Couldn't Save A Little Girl
New York City's municipal government is larger than that of many nations. It is a sprawling, diverse, incomprehensible network of bureaucracy. Probably nowhere in the world is there a city that has as many commissions, departments, social service agencies, family courts, programs, committees all dedicated to the welfare of its citizens. Critics have said that the city is drowning under its own weight, so large is its governmental infrastructure. There are child protective groups of every shape and size, all focused on protecting children from abuse and exploitation. When Lisa died, all of it, the vast empire of social programs, the billions of dollars it spent every year and the thousands of people it employed, became the target of fierce public scrutiny and a torrent of angry criticism.
Tenants at 14 W. 10th Street and neighbors were particularly vociferous. "Who protected this child?" one said. The New York Times interviewed a producer for the television show "20/20" who lived on the first floor of the Steinberg's building. "We reported it to all the proper agencies," she said. A neighbor who said she called a child-abuse hot line said responding investigators were unable to verify the charges. "They came and did an investigation and said there was no evidence of child abuse," she said, "You can imagine how we felt later when this woman walked in with another baby!" She was referring to Mitchell; the 16-month-old baby who cops found tied to a playpen. William Grinker, then New York's commissioner of human resources, said that reports of child abuse at the Steinberg household were mishandled. "I don't think a government agency is responsible every time something goes wrong in a person's private life," he said. Though he wouldn't characterize the Steinberg case a success for his department, Grinker denied any responsibility for Lisa's death. But the public's outrage grew. Disclosure after disclosure revealed that the Steinbergs had come to the city's attention repeatedly. In each instance however, nothing was done. Child Protective Services personnel had visited the apartment a total of three times in 1983 and 1984. Each visit stemmed from reports of child abuse. The social workers were steadfast that there was no evidence of abuse. To make matters worse, it was soon discovered that the police had been to the Steinberg's apartment on October 6, just weeks before Lisa was killed, on an anonymous complaint of a family dispute. Hedda was found with several facial injuries, apparently inflicted during a fight with Joel. Hedda refused to press charges and the police left.
"What should the neighbors do?" The Times asked in a November 6 editorial. "What police saw on Monday suggests that more neighbors should have called and called again, thus motivating more police response." But there was no simple or quick explanation for the bureaucratic bungling of the entire Steinberg-Nussbaum affair. A defenseless woman was beaten, apparently for years with little or no intervention, and despite in-home visits from social workers and police, two kids were grossly mistreated. Now one of the children had suffered a grisly death.
One neighbor, who could have been speaking for an entire city, said to reporters: "I ask myself what else I should have done. I don't know what else I could have done, short of dragging the kid out the door with a gun!"