Eleven People Have Died at this South King County Jail in the Last Two Years. Their Families Are Demanding Answers.

Families, former medical staff, and people incarcerated at SCORE say the jail is plagued by inadequate care, filthy conditions, and hostile staff

SCORE jail in Des Moines. Photo by Andrew Engelson

By Andrew Engelson

Deaken Sullivan was in high school in the late 1990s when he attempted to sneak into a Tom Petty concert at the Gorge amphitheater. In the process, he fell off a cliff and nearly died. Sullivan was evacuated, received medical care, and got a prescription for oxycodone, which was widely marketed in the 1990s under the brand name Oxycontin. Like many others, Sullivan quickly developed an addiction to the drug.

After the accident, Sullivan ran into trouble with the law and eventually became homeless. On July 30, 2024, he was booked into the South Correctional Entity, an 800-bed jail in South King County commonly known as SCORE. The following day, he died in custody from “acute fentanyl and methamphetamine intoxication,” according to the King County Medical Examiner.

“He was funny. He was a comedian. He was very athletic. He loved football,” said Deaken’s sister, Stacy Bradley. “He was very popular. The girls loved him.”

Bradley, who lives near Phoenix, said of her brother’s death, “I don't understand how someone just dies in custody. That doesn't make sense to me. It doesn’t compute—how does he just die?”

Sullivan was one of 11 people who have died in custody at SCORE in the past two years—an astonishingly high number for a correctional facility of its size, and a rate more than five times the national average for local jails in the United States.

Though the jail is owned and operated by the cities of Auburn, Burien, Des Moines, Renton, SeaTac, and Tukwila, more than half its inmates are from other cities that contract with the jail, including jurisdictions ranging from the Port of Seattle to Bellevue and Bellingham.

The city of Seattle entered into an interlocal agreement with SCORE last year to house some misdemeanor offenders at the jail. But Callie Craighead, a spokeswoman for Mayor Bruce Harrell's office, said the city has not begun this pilot project, which would cost the city $2.8 million for 20 beds if implemented.

An agreement in November between the city of Seattle and King County now allows the Seattle Police Department to book more people for misdemeanors in the county’s downtown jail, alleviating the potential need for beds at SCORE. The mayor’s office said SPD has booked about 1,000 people into SCORE in the past year, almost exclusively on arrest warrants from jurisdictions outside Seattle. “Booking in the King County Jail will remain the preferred option for the City,” Craighead said.

In the past three months alone, three people have died in custody at SCORE: Garrett Floth on November 1, Dwight Benson on January 27, and Patricia Ryden on February 1. SCORE director Devon Schrum declined to respond to questions about the recent deaths, saying that she could not comment on any ongoing investigation.

Over the past few months, PubliCola spoke with family members of people who have died at SCORE, a former member of the jail’s medical staff, and several people who have been incarcerated at SCORE. They say the jail has inadequate medical care, substandard detox procedures, and filthy living conditions.

Bradley has requested documents from SCORE related to her brother’s death, but has not received them. Nor has the jail filed reports with the Department of Health (DOH) related to those incidents, which it is required by law to do within 120 days of a death in custody.

Mark Johnson, a spokesman for the Washington DOH, confirmed that the agency has not received fatality reports from SCORE on six deaths that have occurred at the jail since May 2024.

Bradley had lost touch with her brother by the time he was incarcerated at SCORE, but said she still loved him and had hoped he’d eventually get into recovery. “You think you're prepared for the call,” she said. “But when it comes, you're just totally not prepared. It rocked my world. He was my baby brother.”

Bradley said she called SCORE not long after her brother’s death to ask how often guards checked in on her brother and what, if any, medical or detox care he received. She said the staff member she spoke to was defensive. According to Bradley, the staffer told her someone had checked on Sullivan four times, that he was given aspirin, and that he refused food and water. At that point, Bradley said, she asked if medical staff had given him an IV to replace lost fluids and electrolytes. Bradley said the staff member told her, “He wouldn't need an IV,” then said he couldn’t discuss any more medical details with her.

Schrum said, “SCORE expects all staff to always treat everyone with compassion and professionalism regardless of the circumstances.”

Lisa Rogers, who worked as a nurse at SCORE. Photo by Andrew Engelson

"The most unprofessional place I've ever worked in my life"

Lisa Rogers, a registered nurse for 27 years, worked the night shift at SCORE between March 2022 and October 2022 as an employee of WellPath, a national health care contractor that provides medical care at SCORE.

“It was the most unprofessional place I've ever worked in my life,” Rogers said of SCORE. “It was filthy, and the people were very unprofessional in the way that they spoke [and] the way that they made decisions based on patient care.”

Rogers said she had little assistance caring for the more than 400 people incarcerated at SCORE. There were two licensed practical nurses on the night shift, but Rogers said they were mostly responsible for administering medications. (LPNs go through a shorter certification program than RNs and usually do basic tasks under supervision).

Guards and other staff pressured her to treat people in the jail as inmates rather than patients, she said. “It was not quality nursing. It was quantity nursing. They didn't care, as long as there was a nurse there that had a license. Rogers recalled being told to “just page through” new inmates’ three-page intake form without seriously assessing people.

“They're just trying to get people booked as quickly as they can,” she said.

Rogers said the jail’s medical equipment, including blood pressure cuffs, was old and falling apart. During the heat of the summer, when temperatures were stifling, Rogers would bring patients ice and Gatorade. “That was frowned on” by guards, she said.

Schrum said all medical equipment at SCORE “is inspected and repaired or replaced if necessary.”

Rogers described seeing a patient who was in withdrawal from fentanyl who had defecated on herself and was left in filthy clothing for three days. “I decided to get her set up with a shower and actually physically help her get up because she was so sick,” Rogers said.

Asked to respond to Rogers' claims, Schrum said, “Sergeants conduct welfare and sanitation checks daily. Clean clothing is provided regularly, and clothing is replaced in any instance in which it is soiled.”

Another patient who tried to commit suicide at the jail received medical care and then was returned to her cell, Rogers said. Rogers tried to reassure her, saying she could call Rogers if she needed help, but when she did so later, guards wouldn't let Rogers enter her cell. "They said they would only open the cuff door," a small opening for applying handcuffs, Rogers recalled. "And she just looked at me with this horrible look on her face of sadness, turned around, and went back to bed.”

Schrum did not respond to a request for comment on this incident.

Rogers said she raised issues with supervisors about the poor quality of care at SCORE, but was repeatedly ignored or rebuffed. Then, during a shift in October, Rogers said she told a sergeant she felt drowsy. She went to splash water on her face and drink some coffee. The next day, she was fired.

“I was let go for sleeping on the job,” Rogers said, though she insists she hadn’t been sleeping. She believes she was fired for challenging substandard care at SCORE. “I wasn't going to ignore some of the things they wanted me to ignore. I wasn't working quickly enough for them.”

Responding to Rogers’ claim that she was fired for speaking up, Schrum said, “SCORE has a zero-tolerance policy against retaliation. We encourage transparency and input from all employees surrounding conditions, policies, culture, etc.”

WellPath, which has been the subject of more than 1,400 wrongful death lawsuits nationwide, filed for bankruptcy in November. Schrum said SCORE has “been assured that the bankruptcy proceedings will not impact medical care.” WellPath did not respond to requests for comment.

Makena Buckland. Photo courtesy of Gail Buckland

"I kept saying 'Stay with me' and rubbing her back"

Makena Buckland, 21, was booked into SCORE on March 1, 2024 after turning herself in to Bellevue Police to serve a five-day sentence for violating a protection order. It was her fifth incarceration at SCORE. According to documents SCORE filed with the state health department, Buckland was strip-searched and found to have fentanyl pills.

Buckland was placed on detox protocols after she was booked. According to a presentation created by SCORE in 2021, those protocols include intake screening and urine tests, buprenorphine prescribed for inmates with a clinical opiate withdrawal score of 6 or higher, options for other medicated opioid treatments such as methadone, and daily dosing.

On March 5, at around 3:45 am, Buckland’s cellmate woke up to the sound of Buckland having a seizure and vomiting. According to SCORE’s report, guards arrived and attempted to clear Buckland’s airway and perform CPR. She was transported to the emergency room at Valley Medical Center in Renton, where she was later pronounced dead.

The King County Medical Examiner determined that Buckland’s death was natural and attributed it to brain death due to lack of oxygen during efforts to revive her, and mentioned that the choking was caused by vomiting related to opioid use.

Nicole Jackson, an assistant professor in autopsy pathology at the University of Washington, said the classification of “natural” seems unusual, though she noted that she had not seen the toxicology reports. Jackson noted that leaving someone going through opioid withdrawal without close monitoring can lead to a higher risk of death, especially if a person is at risk for choking. “Rule of thumb, most people would do better in a hospital bed with care than without.”

Jay Krulewitch, an attorney representing Makena Buckland’s mother, Gail Buckland, said, “SCORE failed to notice she was in severe distress and should have been transported for emergency treatment at a much earlier point in time.”

Documents PubliCola acquired from SCORE through a records request include a poignant, though heavily redacted, handwritten account by Buckland’s cellmate. The cellmate talked about reading to Buckland in the evening and making sure she slept on her side. After Buckland fell asleep—talking out loud while dreaming—the cellmate also went to sleep.

“Then I heard [redacted]. I woke and immediately said 'Fuck,'” the cellmate wrote.

What the cellmate witnessed is redacted, but she said she pressed the intercom button “15 to 20 times in a row fast and told them to come.” Buckland was on her back and the cellmate attempted to roll her over, she wrote. “I kept saying stay with me [redacted] and rubbing her back.”

Guards arrived three or four minutes later, she said, shoved her out of the way, and shouted for someone to call 911. After standing outside the cell for 10 or 15 minutes as they tried to revive Buckland, the cellmate watched them take her away. “She was my sister’s age,” the account concludes.

Krulewitch said he plans to file a lawsuit against SCORE in the next few weeks under the Washington Public Records Act, noting that the jail has failed to provide Gail Buckland—who is the executor of her daughter’s estate, and thus legally entitled under HIPAA rules to Buckland’s medical information—with video surveillance recordings and detailed medical records. Makena’s mother is “absolutely outraged that SCORE has delayed and delayed in providing us with public records that she was entitled to months ago,” Krulewitch said.

Gail Buckland, he added, was “horrified to learn that in addition to the tragic death of her daughter, ten other people have died at SCORE during the last two years. She believes that it is time for SCORE to either be shut down as an unsafe facility or make drastic changes to protect the health and safety of inmates placed into SCORE.”

When asked why SCORE has not shared medical information with Buckland’s family, Schrum said, “We value transparency, however, jail and medical records are protected information and require appropriate releases and/or specific authorizations to share.”

Of the 11 people who have died in custody at SCORE since March 2023, at least six were accidents, including four that were directly or indirectly related to fentanyl and methamphetamine use. The medical examiner described Buckland’s death as “natural,” but also attributed it to opioid use disorder.

According to a report from the US Department of Justice, the average death rate in local jails in the United States in 2019 (the most recent date available) was 167 per 100,000. Washington state’s death in custody rate for local jails is 257 per 100,000—the fourth highest in the nation.

Using the same formula DOJ uses to calculate that rate, SCORE had an in-custody death rate of 828 per 100,000 in 2023 and 954 per 100,000 in 2024— three to four times the state average. These numbers could be skewed by the fact that they represent a single jail, and just two years of data, but they are significantly higher than what’s typical for local jails across the state and nation.

PubliCola previously reported on a 43-year-old woman who died at SCORE in 2023 from dehydration and malnutrition. She did not receive an IV or detox care, even though SCORE— in its report to DOH—said that she had been booked at the jail 27 times previously, and was often in withdrawal from opioids. In the DOH report, SCORE said it had changed its policies in response to the incident and now puts everyone who seems to be withdrawal on its detox protocols.

The most recent death at SCORE was a 64-year-old woman, Patricia Ryden, who died in custody on February 1. The medical examiner has not yet determined the cause of her death.

Just a few days before that, on January 27, Dwight D. Benson, who had a long history of DUI violations, died at SCORE. The cause of his death has not yet been determined.

Prior to that, the ninth death at SCORE in two years was a 30-year-old man, Garrett Floth, who died on November 1 last year.

The KCMEO determined Floth’s death was accidental and caused by “Difluoroethane induced cardiomyopathy.” Difluoroethane is generally sold as a canned gas duster used to clean electronics and is sometimes inhaled to get high.

SCORE has not yet filed a report on Floth's death with the Department of Health.

PubliCola reached out to the mayors and city managers of the six cities that own SCORE regarding the jail’s high rate of death in custody and poor medical care. Auburn mayor Nancy Backus declined to comment. The mayors and/or city managers of Burien, Des Moines, Renton, SeaTac, and Tukwila did not respond to repeated requests for comment.

"Urine, feces, old food, bugs, and blood"

On April 15, 2024, protesters calling for a ceasefire in Gaza blocked the main access road to SeaTac Airport for several hours. That day, Port of Seattle police arrested 46 protesters, most of whom were booked into custody at SCORE.

We spoke with three of the protesters about their experiences at the jail.

One protester, who requested anonymity because they fear retaliation, was booked into SCORE at about 7:30 pm. The protester, who has a history of problems with low blood sugar, including a recent hospitalization, said no one asked about medical issues during the booking process. They identify as nonbinary and asked to be put into a holding cell with women. Instead, they received a quick exam from a nurse and were placed in a solitary cell.

The cell, they recalled, was brightly lit and filthy, with "feces in many places on the wall, including some thrown at the [surveillance] camera,” they said. “There was urine and old food and bugs and blood.”

The room had a rusty toilet with no seat, they recalled, and no intercom. “There was no way to get the attention of the guards, except to bang on the wall or the door.” They said they did this for more than an hour hoping to get food or medical attention, but no one responded.

At one point, the arrested protester said, they overheard a guard and a nurse in the hallway. “The nurse said, 'Well, if they're dead and I didn't check on them, oh well.’ And they both laughed.”

Another protester, who also requested anonymity to avoid retaliation, said she was placed in a cell with two other women, who told her they’d been arrested for public drug use. One of the women said she had been going through withdrawal for at least 48 hours in the jail. The protester was there from about 9:30 pm to 1am, and said no guards or medical personnel checked in on them during that time. “There was no obvious way to communicate if you needed help,” she said.

Sarah Stuteville, a mental health counselor and writer, was also arrested during the April 15 protests and held in a large holding cell at SCORE with eight to 12 other women.

Stuteville said the room was incredibly crowded and people had to attempt to sleep on the floor. The cell was filthy, she said. “The sink was so dirty and corroded that only a little bit of water dripped out of it. There was a dirty sanitary napkin on the side of the sink. We were all incredibly dehydrated and thirsty, but afraid to drink the water because we couldn't tell if it was safe.”

The toilet, Stuteville recalled, was also filthy, and there were stains on the walls that “looked like bodily fluids, feces, and blood. The floor itself was disgusting and dirty and had sticky, half-dried fluids all over it, and hair and filth," Stutevill said.” The cell was “freezing cold,” and people were shivering, she said. “We had blankets, but later those were taken away."

Stuteville also said one inmate, who was there when she arrived and was not involved in the protest, was passed out on the floor for the six hours she was in the cell.

“I don't have any reason to believe that if that person's physical situation deteriorated, we would have successfully been able to communicate to the guards that that was the case,” she said.

All three protesters made bail and were released the day after they were booked.

“For all the things that were really horrible and frightening about our experience, people did know where we were,” Stuteville said. Unlike others at the jail, “We did have representation outside of the jail. We did have financial resources to help get us bailed out.”

Schrum denied that conditions at SCORE are filthy and unsanitary, saying a sergeant inspects cells daily and that any dirty cells are cleaned. “Occupants are provided cleaning supplies daily to keep cells clean. If the occupant is unable to clean the cells themselves, they are moved to a clean cell. Cells that are found to be unsanitary are cleaned with special equipment to sanitize the cell.”

Asked if an inmate would be left unconscious for six hours without a check from guards or medical personnel, Schrum said, “SCORE does not book anyone who is unconscious. SCORE staff, contracted staff, and volunteers interact with the population throughout the day. SCORE officers conduct [a] formal check of every cell at least once per hour and often more frequently.”

Jazmyn Clark, justice policy program director at the ACLU of Washington, said the number of deaths at SCORE over the past two years “exposes a deeply flawed system in urgent need of reform. Safety within correctional facilities is non-negotiable.”

Craighead, spokeswoman for Mayor Harrell, said, “The health and safety of detainees remains a top priority. The City of Seattle has met with SCORE representatives to discuss the reported fatalities; and collected and reviewed reports regarding the inmate deaths that occurred while in SCORE custody.”

Stacy Bradley said she told the SCORE staff member she talked to about her brother Deaken’s death that she’s determined to get answers about what happened. “My brother's life mattered,” she said. “If they can't get it to a point where there's accountability and people stop dying, then [SCORE] just needs to be shut down.”