A ‘monstrous dream’: A suicide in the Baton Rouge jail, the wreckage of a mental health crisis

On May 19, Kaddarrius Cage’s stepfather awoke to find Cage on top of him in his bed, attacking him with a knife, according to booking documents.

The knife slashed an artery in his head. A piece of the blade lodged in his skull. 

Cage, 28, had battled severe mental illness for more than a decade, according to Kim Cage, his mother. Her son suffered from bipolar schizophrenia, paranoid schizophrenia and manic behavior, she said. 

Deputies with the East Baton Rouge Parish Sheriff’s Office arrived to arrest Kaddarrius Cage for attempted second-degree murder. But his family was worried.

How would their son handle such a new and restrictive environment while struggling with an apparent flare up of his serious mental illness? Would he be able to take his medication regularly? Would he have access to it at all? Would they be able to stay in touch to keep him grounded in reality?

Despite the change, advocates remain worried.

“We have too many members of this horrible club,” said Rev. Alexis Anderson, a member of the East Baton Rouge Parish Prison Reform Coalition. “You can’t give any of these families back what they lost.”

Mental illness behind bars

Jail officials have said the parish prison has seen a dramatic increase in inmates suffering from mental illnesses as it contended with multiple suicides following the closure or privatization of several state hospitals in the early 2010s.

Kaddarrius Cage’s situation appears to fit the profile of some of these bleak cases.

According to Kim Cage, his mother, her son led a normal childhood and adolescence. He graduated from Scotlandville High School.

But one day in his late teens, she said he went to sleep, woke up and was never the same. After, he was placed on medication and occasionally visited mental health facilities. 

“[We] battled with his mental illness for over 11 years,” she said. “Whenever people have mental issues like that, they suffer greatly with not remembering things, the voices attacking them.”

Kim Cage says she and her family didn’t want her son taken to jail. But Casey Rayborn Hicks, spokesperson for the East Baton Rouge Parish Sheriff’s Office, said deputies had little choice but to make sure he was “secured and taken to the jail” to ensure “the safety of those on scene,” given his violent behavior.

Medical staff would ultimately determine whether he was fit to be booked; a judge would decide whether he was fit to stand trial or whether he should be orderd to a mental facility.

Kaddarrius Cage underwent an evaluation to assess if he was healthy enough to be placed in the jail: Staff ruled that he was. They then had to decide wheter to house him in the mental health wing, place him on suicide watch or use a combination of both oversight strategies.

“Medical staff placed Cage on the mental health wing, but not on suicide watch,” Hicks said. “Medical has told the warden that he was seen by Mental Health professionals at least three times while at the jail.”

Kim was under the impression her son was on suicide watch. She also says she spent the 12 days her son was incarcerated calling the prison to try to speak to him, ensure he was receiving medical care, inform jail officials he was manic and underscore that he needed to be in an area where he couldn’t hurt himself.

She recalled her plea: “I’m desperate. I need them to know my son needs help. I need them to know he can’t be left alone. If he hasn’t had his medicine, he hears voices.”

Finally, on May 30, Kim said she got through to a nurse who told her she could bring her son’s medication to the prison for staff to administer.

The next morning, before Kim could make it to the prison with his medicine, Kaddarrius had killed himself.

The sheriff’s office said medical staff told the warden they received one call from Kaddarrius’ mother to speak with her son, that he was given the message, but declined to call. 

‘How are we not prepared?’

In many ways, local jails possess a perfect storm of conditions that are dangerous for people who are at risk of suicide, according to a publication on suicide prevention in jails produced by the U.S. Marshals Service.

“Jail environments are conducive to inmate suicide attempts due to a diminishment in personal control, the separation of inmates from social-support networks, isolation/privacy, and a lack of mental health resources,” the publication says.

Suicide risk is also high for young men with mental illness who have abused substances and previously attempted suicide — a demographic often found in local jails, the resource says. Shame, fear and relationship stressors can exacerbate that risk.

Officials recommend ongoing suicide-prevention training for jail staff with regular refreshers and development of a comprehensive suicide-prevention policy.

“Best prevention practices pertain to…identification, referral, and evaluation upon admission to the jail; housing conditions; observation and treatment plans; intervention based on evaluation; notification and reporting; and critical-incident stress debriefing and mortality-morbidity review,” the resource says.

Anderson, the community advocate, has spent years tracking what happens in the local court and, by extension, the jail as people await their trial dates.

By her count, there have been more than 60 deaths at East Baton Rouge Parish Prison since 2012. She has long grown weary of comforting families asking the same questions and hoping for the same resolution: A reality where people don’t die at a pre-trial detention facility, leaving their loved ones fumbling for answers.

“This has happened so often, how are we not prepared?” Anderson asked. “We have on site medical care 24-7. We are five minutes away from EMS. We have everything we need to have a facility that does not have people dying.”

A ‘monstrous dream’

The morning of his death, Kaddarrius underwent a mental health evaluation, according to the sheriff’s office. At 10:10 a.m., staff discovered him during normal rounds and began to administer life-saving measures.

His evaluation details were not immediately available.

“Mental health staff evaluated Mr. Cage numerous times, and he received appropriate treatment while in our care,” said Austin Young, Turn Key General Counsel. “Mr. Cage’s death is a tragedy, and out of respect for his grieving family and for his medical privacy, we won’t comment on specifics related to his care.”

Jail staff — and the medical team with Turn Key Health Clinics — receive suicide prevention training, according to Hicks and Young. 

“Suicide prevention is a priority for Turn Key,” Young said. “Turn Key nurses are trained on suicide prevention as part of initial new hire training, and we have an initiative to ensure our nurses receive additional annual suicide prevention training.”

A death investigation is not yet public, Hicks said.

“This is obviously a very sad and tragic situation,” she said.”Having been contacted by the family’s attorney, pending litigation is foreseeable, so the records will be turned over in the litigation.”

Anderson and the coalition she is a part of continue to rally for an independent health monitor to oversee the prison’s medical care, and are also seeking a performance audit of the jail from the state Legislative Auditor.

In the meantime, Kim Cage has collected her son’s body, and buried him. Her husband — Kaddarrius’ stepfather — survived his injuries and must now grapple with his stepson’s death behind bars.

Kim’s head often feels like it’s “in a bubble” as she fights through her grief.

“I cannot bring my son back,” she said. “But I definitely hope that my son’s death will be used to help someone else so they won’t have to live this monstrous dream.”