51黑料

ST. LOUIS 鈥� Molly Branigin was in jail, and had barely slept in days.

She had just showered and changed her clothes for the first time since she arrived at the downtown jail. They finally gave her a hot meal.

The 40-year-old 51黑料 resident laid down near the front of a holding cell, covered by a blanket she鈥檇 just been given.

She fell into a deep sleep, but awoke with a start: A male inmate was standing over her, she said, with his hand down her pants.

This week, Branigin filed suit against the city, alleging the jail didn鈥檛 properly separate women and men, didn鈥檛 protect her from the other inmate and left her vulnerable to assault. In an interview, Branigin shared a rare first-hand account from inside the City Justice Center. The Post-Dispatch does not typically name victims of sexual assault, but Branigin wanted to tell her story.

Over eight days, as she moved through the jail intake process, from the first floor to the second and then to a two-person cell, she said she went without water and was told to drink from the toilet. The floor of the holding cell was disgusting: Vomit and excrement went uncleaned. She watched detainees scream for help, but no one came. And a man somehow got into the women鈥檚 cell. Her lawsuit blamed a faulty lock.

鈥淓ight days of hell, and I was assaulted,鈥� she said. 鈥淲hat the heck is going on?鈥�

鈥淚 said it when I walked out,鈥� she continued. 鈥溾�橧鈥檓 going to do something.鈥欌��

The allegations in Branigin鈥檚 lawsuit mark the latest in a stream of controversies at the Justice Center on South Tucker Boulevard.

Detainees have repeatedly escaped from their cells, rioted, attacked guards and broken windows, sometimes due to faulty locks, prompting officials to make millions of dollars in security upgrades. Inmates have complained about a lack of edible food, poor health care and access to their lawyers.

Last year, a woman filed a lawsuit claiming she was sexually assaulted by a male inmate in the facility鈥檚 medical unit.

A city spokesman declined to comment on the lawsuit. Jail Commissioner Jennifer Clemons-Abdullah did not respond to requests for comment.

A faulty lock?

Branigin was arrested in March on a misdemeanor trespassing charge. She and a friend were trying to make an urban exploration video in an abandoned home in South 51黑料, she said. Somebody called the police.

But she also had warrants for a felony drug possession case in St. Clair County and a 2015 speeding ticket from Williamson County, Illinois.

51黑料 police arrested her and took her to the downtown jail, holding her for Illinois. The jail put her in what she called the 鈥渄runk tank,鈥� a windowless rectangular cell with more than a dozen other women.

There were no chairs or benches, so she rested on a soiled floor near people detoxing from drugs, suffering from medical issues or mental health crises, she said.

She made daily two-minute phone calls to her parents in Tennessee. They were in a panic, she said. Her father, a physician, called the jail to try to get her help, but guards said they couldn鈥檛 talk to him.

At first, her meals were bologna sandwiches, chips and 鈥渄isgusting鈥� cornbread, she said. The lights were always on. She didn鈥檛 know who was in the cell with her or what they had been accused of.

After a few days, she was moved to the jail鈥檚 second floor to its 鈥減re-admittance鈥� area with a handful of other women.

That cell had a large glass partition on one side, she said, separating the women from the men 鈥� sometimes as many as 25 men were in there at a time.

She could talk to the men through the glass. Some were nice. Others, she said, leered. One in particular regularly made obscene gestures. Multiple times, he pulled his pants down.

She could see a guard station near the cell, she said. But guards never stopped him.

The detainees had to leave the cell to use the bathroom, she said, but often the guards didn鈥檛 listen. One man started to cry because he so badly needed to go, she said.

鈥淵ou鈥檙e treated less than human in there,鈥� she said.

Branigin was eventually given a shower and some clean clothes. She got a hot meal. She laid down.

Finally, she slept.

At the same time, a male detainee 鈥� the same one who was exposing himself to the women, she said 鈥� was standing outside the cell nearby, her lawsuit says. A housing guard didn鈥檛 watch him, the suit claims, and he walked into the women鈥檚 cell.

鈥楢lmost unheard of鈥�

Branigin awoke to him over her. She yelled, pushed him off and jumped to her feet. A jail guard came in and took the man away.

Despite the assault, Branigin said, no staff members consoled her, asked questions or took a report.

She was eventually moved into a cell with another woman. She filed a complaint using the jail system on a tablet. It went unanswered, she said.

Finally, after eight days, an Illinois transit officer came to take her to St. Clair County.

鈥淚 was literally bawling,鈥� she said. 鈥淚 was so excited to see him.鈥�

When she got back to 51黑料, Branigin said she tried to call the jail to make a formal record of her complaint. Jail staff wouldn鈥檛 take it over the phone. So she drove to the Justice Center and tried to make a report. She was told by jail staff to contact police.

She met with a police officer in the sex crimes unit; the officer interviewed her and wrote a report. She also said she complained to the city鈥檚 civilian jail oversight board.

Her lawyer, local civil rights attorney and 51黑料 University professor Brendan Roediger, said both police and the oversight board have opened investigations.

He said he has handled scores of jail sexual assault cases over the course of his career, but it鈥檚 incredibly rare to see instances where male detainees assault females, he said. They鈥檙e supposed to be kept apart.

鈥淚t is almost unheard of,鈥� he said.

Branigin鈥檚 lawsuit seeks an unspecified amount of damages. A hearing has not been set in the case.