Central Indiana county prosecutor was raised in foster care

ANDERSON, Ind. (AP) - Four children in and around Madison County were tortured to death by their loved ones before they died. Three boys and a girl - all toddlers - were bruised, battered and bloodied in the hours, days and sometimes months before their tiny bodies would fail them.

All of the children lived in broken homes and some of the children had state-appointed caseworkers to protect them from neglect.

Madison County Prosecutor Rodney Cummings is all too familiar with their stories.

"It's where I come from," he said. "I grew up in orphan homes and foster homes. I was one of those kids when I was growing up. I was in an orphan's home before I was 3 years old.

"If I wasn't in orphanages or foster homes, we were living on welfare. I was and my siblings are these kids that are out here with people that are irresponsible."

Cummings will never forget some of his first memories in life - like the Christmas he was in a children's home in Riverside, California, after his mother abandoned him, his brother and sister in a hotel room, where police found them.

"My mother had four children by four different men - three before she was 20," Cummings said. "That wasn't that common in the 1950s."

Cummings said he knows what it feels like to live in a home where children are an afterthought.

"If you look in some areas of our community, we are overcome with poverty, drugs, hopelessness, and the children are at the bottom of that," he said.

Cummings recalled growing up being told by his mother there was never money for things he wanted, but there was always money for her cigarettes and alcohol.

"Everything she wanted was always there, but it doesn't get trickled down to the children," he said. "They are the last ones out."

Recalling photos of the abused and beaten children who have died in Madison County, Cummings relives moments of darkness from his own childhood.

"When I look at some of these babies - photos of some of these babies," he turned away at the thought. "If you look at the bruises on that child's face, a month later she is dead. Someone did not stand up for this child. It's an outrage. An outrage."

Living in poverty with drugs and abuse creates a world of low priority for children, he said.

"They get hurt and, not only that, if they survive, often they are not in a place where they compete with others for education, jobs and things like that," Cummings said. "I used to be those kids so I have a heart for that."

Poor kids are more likely to experience hunger, and food insecurity has a lifelong effect: lower reading and math scores, more physical and mental health problems, more emotional and behavioral problems and a greater chance of obesity, according to Feeding America.

The U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention has also linked adverse childhood experiences such as abuse and neglect with a range of long-term health impacts.

"That's happening every day in this community," Cummings said of abuse and neglect. "Probably in multiple times to different kids. Fortunately they are not dying, but the impact that it has on them psychologically and their belief and confidence that they can achieve success as they get older gets killed. It gets killed.

"The harm that has on those children at such an early age is almost impossible to overcome."

Against the odds, Cummings rose to his own success in life by first graduating from high school.

"It wasn't like I was a star student," he said with a laugh. "I was 580 in a class of 598 at Anderson High School. I just kept going every day and one day they gave me a diploma."

The difference between Cummings and others raised in what he has called a dysfunctional home is he wasn't hanging on the corner like everyone was doing.

"Getting that diploma gave me an opportunity to go to college and have other experiences," he said.

He was the first member of his family to graduate from high school.

Cummings went on to attend college and eventually getting a degree to practice law. But he did not get there unscathed and before he enforced the laws, he broke them.

In 1973, Cummings was 18 and burglarized a home. He was caught and convicted of a felony crime, which pretty much guaranteed that he could never have a career in law enforcement.

But Cummings left jail and began to box at the Police Athletic League and that's where he met the people who began to treat him like family. Police officers at the club befriended him, encouraged him and invited him into their homes for a hot meal.

His new guidance and success as a boxer enabled Cummings to change his life.

He received a scholarship through Golden Gloves to attend college and sought a pardon from Gov. Otis Bowen in 1979 that allowed him to join the police department.

Cummings said his start in life allows him special insight into the lives of the children who have been neglected and makes him fight a little harder for those who did not survive.

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Source: The Herald Bulletin