From: Anderson Independent-Mail

Sunday July 7, 2001

Little Girl Lost

Stephanie Nicole Carter didn't live long. She wasn't allowed to. Outside of the immediate area her name probably won't ring any bells. She wasn't a child prodigy or a pint-sized beauty queen. She was just an average little girl who spent the last months of her life probably wondering what she had done wrong.

Her once red hair had been dyed muddy brown, and the smiling, laughing child of earlier home videos was transformed into a shadow of herself, a child reduced to silent and resigned agreement with a disembodied voice on a later video that said she was "pitiful" and her life was "bad."

On Oct. 17, 2000, Stephanie died at a Greenville hospital, three days after being admitted virtually brain-dead. The Anderson County child died from a blow to the head, according to court records, but her small body bore the marks of beatings and cigarette burns, investigators said.

Stephanie did not die at the hands of some stranger. She died from the actions of the two people she had every right to assume would care for her, love her and help her grow to adulthood.

She was wrong.

In June, her father, Derek Carter, pled guilty to homicide by child abuse. He was sentenced to 30 years. His defense? He was at work and didn't realize the extent of the abuse he said was committed by his wife.

Later in the month, Derek's wife and Stephanie's stepmother, Ila Michele Carter, went on trial for the same charge. Her defense? Her husband drank heavily; he was the abuser; it wasn't her fault. She was afraid, she said stoically, if she said anything her three other children would be taken away.

The jury didn't buy it. They convicted her after less than one hour of deliberation and sentenced her to life without parole.

She smiled as she was led away after sentencing.

The details of Stephanie's short life, revealed in court testimony from several sources, including her 12-year-old stepbrother, were enough to provoke rage from the most gentle of women, tears from the strongest of men. She was locked in a tiny bathroom, beaten, harnessed to a tree and hosed down when she soiled her diapers. She was treated worse than an animal, forced to "play fetch" and according to stepbrother, eat something that smelled like cat food." Her stepmother referred to her on one tape as "the child who doesn't exist."

Following the couple's arrest last fall, the community was shocked with the details of Stephanie's life and death. Neighbors admitted they had seen her harnessed to a tree and one neighbor said she called social services to report what she had seen. Officials said they investigated only one call from a neighbor but saw no obvious evidence of abuse. Other neighbors said they saw signs of abuse but didn't recognize them as such until it was too late. One couple said they heard the girl referred to as "a dog," but they couldn't tell if any criminal activity was going on. When law officers visited her home after a call to the Anderson County Sheriff's Department from an unidentified 12-year-old in the neighborhood, Ila Michele Carter explained the harness as a way to keep Stephanie safe while they burned leaves in the yard. It seemed logical at the time, a sheriff's deputy recalled.

Like all the adults around Stephanie, he couldn't imagine the allegations were true.

Sadly they were.

Who failed Stephanie Carter? Those charged with her care, first of all. The other adults in her life who were afraid to get too involved, who could not imagine that it was as bad as it was revealed to have been, will have to live with what they did not do. Officials who are charged with public safety and protecting children didn't see the signs as they should have.

But in a way we all failed her by having developed into a society where we don't want to be involved in other people's troubles. We're afraid of reprisals from the family if we interfere or we just can't believe that things are as bad as we think they are.

If we suspect a child is being abused, there are any number of actions we can take, numerous people who can be called, who are obligated to investigate and determine if accusations are true. Most of all, we can't ignore the signs just because we're afraid we might be wrong.

Stephanie Carter won't ever grow up, partially because of our fear. And we can't make it up to her.

We can just try to make sure the next Stephanie Carter gets out in time.