Article should have been posted May 24, but due to a technical glitch it was not. Sorry!
This is a long article, if you want to read it in its entirety, you can do so here.
It's my personal belief that training for police officers has pretty much not kept up with the changing times, except in the matters of what weapons to use, and quicker tactics to bring a perp down. (My own words.) Their training needs to be updated. In days gone by, back when police officers walked the beat and knew everyone by name, officers knew how to talk to a child; they knew which to threaten and which to coddle to get the results they wanted. We need to go back to that, train officers (if there's a way to get them to understand) to recognize which children are strong enough for you to bluster and browbeat, and which are not. I'm not saying it would work 100% of the time, mistakes can be made, they're human. I think though that if the training saves one Corey Walgren, it will be worth it. These are our children, our future, and we can't afford to make but so many mistakes.
Corey Walgren, age 16, no police record, never been in trouble before, dead from suicide. If the police and school officials had handled it a little differently, perhaps kept someone with him while they waited for his mother, or perhaps contacted her before they 'interviewed' (interrogated) him, as the law says they have to do, could there have perhaps been a different, better outcome to this story? Perhaps.... See what you think.
School disciplinary incident ends with a Naperville teen's suicide: 'They scared him to death'
On the last night of his life, Corey Walgren sat with his parents in the kitchen and talked about the colleges they would visit over spring break. At 16, Corey didn't know what he wanted to study — maybe business, maybe astronomy — but he liked the idea of attending a Big Ten school. He wanted a big, bustling campus with different kinds of people, a place that could match his energy and varied interests. His parents, Doug and Maureen Walgren, described it as an exciting but bittersweet discussion with their eldest child, a rite-of-passage conversation that occurs in kitchens all across the country. It ended with the family deciding to visit the University of Iowa and the University of Minnesota, both of which seemed realistic options given Corey's solid grade point average and extra-curricular activities.
With his future before him and a high school hockey tournament that weekend, Corey went to bed that night as he had for much of his life: Happy. Healthy. Home.
"There was no concern for anything," Maureen Walgren said. "Everything was fine. Everything was normal."
Life for the Walgren family would never be normal again, at least as they knew it on that January evening.
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Corey Walgren, a 16-year-old Naperville North High School junior, committed suicide;
mother says "they scared him to death." (Family photo) |
The following day, Naperville police suspected that Corey — who had no criminal history and had never been in serious trouble at school — had video on his phone of a consensual sexual encounter with a 16-year-old classmate and possibly played it for friends.
At lunchtime, he was called into the dean's office.
There, with a police officer and campus dean, Corey was questioned about possessing and possibly sharing "child pornography," allegedly threatened that he'd be put on the state's sex offender registry, then was left alone to wait for his mother.
It does not appear any pornographic images were found on the teen's phone, but it did contain a file with audio of the sexual encounter. Police did not intend to pursue charges, records show, and they indicated they wanted to handle the matter in a way that ensured Corey understood the seriousness of his actions and how it affected his classmate.
Yet Corey left school after the confrontation, walked nearly a mile to downtown Naperville and committed suicide by falling from the top of a parking deck.
"I think they wanted to scare him straight," Maureen Walgren said. "Instead, they scared him to death."
Paralyzing grief
A young man whose life seemed so full of promise to those who knew him, Corey Walgren now serves as the subject of a cautionary tale in Naperville, the affluent west suburban community where many have whispered about his final day but few talk about it openly. In many ways, Corey's story represents a dangerous melding of teenage sex, modern technology, a 16-year-old boy's poor judgment and a response from school officials and local police that legal experts say may have violated the law.
And with its many uncomfortable and heartbreaking turns, it's a difficult story for his parents to share publicly. They still struggle with an often paralyzing grief, and they have two other children they want to protect. But Corey's parents also believe their son's death could have been prevented. They say they feel an obligation to speak out.
"This could happen to anyone's child," Maureen Walgren said.
A junior at Naperville North High School, Corey Walgren had caused his parents little worry growing up. He was the oldest of three children, a lanky teen with strawberry-blond hair that leaned toward red and a background that would make a strong foundation for a college application: He routinely made the honor roll, earned a varsity letter in hockey his freshman year and worked part time busing tables at a local Italian restaurant.
He had a tight-knit group of friends and was the one who made sure everyone in their circle knew the weekend's social plans. Though only an occasional fisherman as a child, he surprised his parents by joining the high school's competitive fishing team his freshman year; he later persuaded several of his hockey teammates to do the same.
There was nothing that made him happier than his dog, a Chihuahua-dachshund mix he called Buppy, and McChicken sandwiches from McDonald's dollar menu — in that order, friends say.
"He wasn't afraid to branch out and be friends with everyone," said Zach Rang, a hockey and fishing teammate. "He was a hilarious kid who always made sure that everyone felt included."
Like many boys and girls in his neighborhood, Corey started playing hockey after the Chicago Blackhawks won the Stanley Cup in 2010. He quickly mastered skating, which led to a club team and a childhood filled with predawn practices and weekend tournaments. In a sport where most young players want to be forwards, he agreed to be a defenseman because he was one of the few who could skate well backward.
"He was the kid who did whatever you told him to do and never complained," said Chris Hall, the parent who serves as president of the Naperville North Hockey Club. "He was a dependable kid from an involved family. You could count on him to be at every practice and every game."
During his final season, Corey was the only player on the Naperville North team who didn't earn a single penalty. It's an unusual statistic for someone playing his rough-and-tumble position, and one made even more surprising given that Naperville North led the conference in penalties at one point.
"It says everything about Corey," Hall said. "He wasn't taking runs at people or throwing elbows. He played the game his way and was very good at it."
Child pornography
The Tribune pieced together what happened to Corey through documents from police and the DuPage County coroner, obtained under the state Freedom of Information Act, as well as interviews with his parents, friends and others.
The police reports were heavily redacted and withheld all information about the confrontation at the high school less than two hours before Corey killed himself. The Tribune, though, obtained from other sources a less redacted copy of the police reports, including the report written by the officer who questioned the teen.
The DuPage County coroner released its report, which shows police described the case as a "child pornography" investigation.
The DuPage County coroner released its report, which shows police described the case as a "child pornography" investigation.
