How Neglect and Oversight Let Ta'Neasha Chappell Die
Photo by Max Fleischmann / Unsplash

How Neglect and Oversight Let Ta'Neasha Chappell Die

What Ta’Neasha Chappell’s death in an Indiana jail (and a $5.6 million check) tell us about how Black inmates die in county custody, and what has to change.

She said it into the intercom at 8:34 p.m. The floor was concrete. The overhead light did not go off. She said it again at 2:55 a.m. By then, the cell smelled the way a cell smells when a person has been vomiting into a metal toilet for six hours. She said it, according to Indiana State Police records her attorneys later obtained, between sixteen and twenty times across the twenty hours before she died. I need to go to the hospital. I’m throwing up blood.

Ta’Neasha Chappell was 23. A mother. Black. Ta’Neasha Chappell was in Jackson County Jail in Brownstown, Indiana, facing untried charges. And she was being poisoned. That is not a stray claim. That is what emergency-room doctors at Schneck Medical Center in Seymour wrote when EMS finally reached her at 3:15 the next afternoon. They suspected ethylene glycol. Antifreeze. Or methanol. The cleaner. Multiple inmates later told police that other prisoners had been slipping something they called “the green cleaner” into her food and drink for days.

The medical team pronounced her dead at 5:45 p.m., less than two hours after she left the cell.

In October 2025, Jackson County completed a $5.6 million settlement for her daughter. No jail worker faced a charge. The county prosecutor cleared everyone in that building. He cleared the inmates who allegedly poisoned her. He cleared the officers who, on the surveillance video her family’s attorneys later released, watched her writhe naked on a concrete floor, vomiting and moaning, and told investigators they thought she was faking.

That is the story. The rest is why it keeps happening.

What the video shows

Watch it if you can stand it. The audio came out first, in January 2022: sixteen intercom clips stitched into one long confession by the jail itself. Then the surveillance: a young woman on a concrete floor, ill and undressed, dying while people in uniform walked past.

Attorney Sam Aguiar, who also represents Breonna Taylor’s family, filed the federal complaint alongside Ben Crump and Lonita Baker. In a March 2022 deposition, Sheriff Rick Meyer admitted that they did not follow proper medical procedure. If she vomited blood, he said, they should have sent her to a hospital or had a physician see her. She was not.

The autopsy came back “probable toxicity from an unknown substance.” Manner of death: undetermined. Detectives could not find a lab willing to test her body fluids for the specific cleaner that other inmates had named.

So the paperwork, no surprise, stayed clean. And the people in charge stayed in charge. After all, where would they go? And a little girl grew up without her mother. This sad fact falls on deaf ears among white people unless it’s Charlie Kirk. Different genders and different races. The prison system seems to fuel white officers' hostility towards black people, stripping them of their worth and dignity, and resulting in harsher sentences and mistreatment motivated by racial bias rather than criminal conduct.

The same script, different jail

Two years before Chappell died, Kevil Wingo, 36, spent over seven hours in the Cobb County, Georgia, jail infirmary vomiting and fainting from what turned out to be a perforated ulcer. Surveillance video showed him banging on the door, collapsing five times, crying I can’t breathe. A nurse told him he was “playing around.” Officers moved him to a padded cell used for people in mental-health crisis, stripped him, and left him face down on a toilet grate. He lay dead for an hour before anyone noticed. No one lost their job. Authorities did not charge anyone. He left two teenage daughters and an 11-year-old son.

In 2018, Madison County, Mississippi, jailed Harvey Hill, 36, for misdemeanor trespassing after a former employer called police to report his need for a mental hospital. Within a day, guards had tackled him, pepper-sprayed him, kicked him in the head, and slammed him, handcuffed, into a concrete wall. This was not rugby or an unsanctioned wrestling match. And it certainly was not a game. A licensed practical nurse in the infirmary, not legally authorized to make medical decisions in Mississippi, gave him nothing. A guard pinned him to the floor of an isolation cell and left.

A common thread in these prison deaths is the righteous declaration of leaving the victim alone. I suffer in silence plenty of times, but the paid guard and healthcare providers have a duty of care. Don’t they?

Nobody checked on him for 46 minutes. When they did, he had no pulse. Autopsy: homicide. Liver laceration. Neck hematoma. Severe internal bleeding. Sheriff Randy Tucker’s office publicly attributed the death to “possible cardiac arrest” the next day. The sheriff's office did not release the autopsy to the family for 25 months. By then, Mississippi’s one-year statute of limitations for a civil assault claim had long since passed.

In September 2022, LaShawn Thompson, 35, died in the psychiatric wing of the Fulton County Jail in Atlanta after three months in a cell so infested with bedbugs that the family attorney counted more than a thousand bites on his body. His antipsychotic medication was in his file. It was not in his bloodstream. Fulton County paid $4 million. The independent autopsy called it homicide by neglect.

In June 2019, Layleen Xtravaganza Cubilette-Polanco, a 27-year-old Afro-Latina trans woman on Rikers Island because she couldn’t pay $500 bail, had a seizure in a solitary cell. The video showed that staff failed to check on her for 47 minutes. She was dead before the 48th. New York paid her family $5.9 million.

In July 2015, authorities arrested Sandra Bland in Waller County, Texas, for an alleged improper lane change, and they found her hanged in her cell three days later.

Same script. Different jail.

Even the building where Chappell died has a second name on the docket. Joshua McLemore, 29, spent 20 straight days in 2021 locked into a windowless cell in the Jackson County Jail. The cell lacked a bathroom or a sink. He experienced a psychotic break during this time. Dehydration and malnutrition caused his death. It's the same sheriff. The same courthouse. The same shrug.

Here is the wiring. Investigation of the sheriff’s jail is being conducted by the sheriff. The prosecutor decides whether to charge the prosecutor’s officers. The vendor keeps the contract because they already have it. An insurance pool, which is not accountable to voters, is where the county disburses funds. Nobody in the chain has an incentive to end the chain.

The devil’s work

Incarceration should not abandon the human dignity in any prisoner. But the racism outside the prison walls attaches itself to Black prisoners like a terrible weed that keeps cropping up in a garden despite every attempt to stop its growth. Unlike weeds strangling plants, racism places a real noose around Black prisoners’ necks. They write it into the shift schedule. Unwritten decisions about which body on which floor get treated like a human being include racism.

Despite training and oaths, prison officials up and down the chain of command carry their incessant racial biases into every duty. The Chappell video makes it plain. Officers delayed and made a weak attempt at even basic aid to a young Black woman, the only Black person in a jail pod of all-white women who watched their fellow prisoner call out for help. If the white inmates and the white guards cannot offer aid, then a country that fills its Christian pews on Sunday is doing the devil’s work the other six days.

These unexplained deaths are the same reminder every time. A second-term Trump Justice Department will not reach into a county jail in Indiana or Mississippi to demand better care for a Black prisoner. Slavery is on the books as abolished. What grew out of it, and what nobody in this administration is going to touch, is not. And it does not happen in a vacuum. It happens when the top brass has decided, in writing or not, that this floor is not worth calling a nurse to.

The numbers underneath the names

Reuters had to sue and beg to build the count Congress refuses to. Its investigators documented 7,571 deaths in over 500 U.S. jails between 2008 and 2019. Authorities held roughly 4,998 people, at least two-thirds of the total, without conviction on the charges they faced. Black Americans made up at least 28 % of the dead, more than double their share of the U.S. population.

Research published in Health Affairs has found that jail mortality among Black incarcerated people is disproportionately driven by illness rather than by suicide or violence. The dying you do slowly while someone in uniform decides whether to believe you.

The federal government is supposed to know all of this. In 2013, Congress passed the Death in Custody Reporting Act, which required every state and federal agency to report in-custody deaths to the U.S. Attorney General. States that refuse could lose up to 10% of their federal Byrne Justice Assistance Grant money. Twelve years later, the Justice Department has never once withheld a dollar. It has never fully collected the state and local data. The GAO has said so. The DOJ inspector general has said so.

A law with teeth is a law that bites. This one has not bitten.

If you cannot count the dead, you cannot fix what killed them.

What actual reform looks like

Not slogans. Not committees that report to the sheriff are being investigated. Real fixes are moving right now, in statehouses and county boards, and others can copy them:

Take the sheriff off his own case. In October 2025, California signed the Forensic Accountability, Custodial Transparency, and Safety Act (AB 1108), which bars sheriffs from overseeing medical death investigations at their own jails. Starting January 2027, every county with a combined sheriff-coroner office must contract with an outside civilian medical examiner or independent physician who controls the scope of the investigation and signs the death certificate. Every state should copy it, word for word.

Put civilians in the building. In Riverside County, California, a grand jury this summer recommended replacing the sheriff’s advisory committee with an independent civilian body empowered to audit jail health care and inspect facilities without warning. Washington State’s jail-standards proposal would create an independent agency with the power to set minimum staffing, conduct unannounced inspections, and force the closure of jails that put lives at risk. Body cameras on jailers, under study in Tarrant County, Texas, are a floor, not a ceiling.

Enforce the law we already have. The U.S. Attorney General can withhold up to 10 % of a state’s Byrne Justice Assistance Grant money when that state refuses to report jail deaths. The statute has said so since 2013. Twelve years, and not one dollar withheld. If your state is on the noncompliance list, ask your senator why. Fund the reporting portal. Publish the study Congress ordered years ago on what policies feed these deaths.

Tell the family. Ta’Neasha Chappell’s family got a phone call. Lashawn Thompson’s mother saw the bedbugs on the internet. There is no federal baseline requiring a facility to do better than that. The Family Notification of Death, Injury, or Illness in Custody Act (S.1322), reintroduced by Sens. Jon Ossoff and John Kennedy in 2025, would establish family-notification standards within federal detention facilities and provide states with a template to follow. Pass it.

Medical care to the standard of care. Minnesota’s Larry R. Hill Medical Reform Act, signed this year, sets new standards for county-jail health care. New York City’s Local Law 2025/105, passed by the Council on July 14, 2025, requires the Department of Correction to notify the medical examiner and the Board of Correction within three hours of a person’s death in custody, and requires the Board of Correction to complete an independent investigation within 180 days. Every state needs a version.

End the private-vendor shell game. Wellpath. Quality Correctional Care. Advanced Correctional Healthcare, named in the McLemore complaint in Jackson County, appears repeatedly in these lawsuits. Publish the contracts. Publish the complaint data. Terminate vendors with a pattern of preventable deaths. No more revolving-door bidding on human lives.

The sentence

$5.6 million cannot bring Ta’Neasha Chappell back. It is impossible to un-record the intercom. It cannot un-see the video. This will be filed with the other settlements, provided we permit it. Another line item in a system that already knows it treats Black pain as performance.

The jail heard her twenty times. Upon hearing the tapes, the prosecutor allegedly shrugged. Unable to find a lab, the medical examiner heard about the green cleaner. The county’s insurer wrote a check.

The rest of us don’t get to shrug. I certainly can’t. Not while this same script is running in a county building tonight, with someone else on the floor, someone else on the intercom, someone else whose name we haven’t heard yet. My name could be next, or a neighbor's.

What to do?

Count the dead. Take the sheriff off his own case. Put civilians in the building. Fund the standards. Pay the medical workers who tell the truth. Fire the ones who don’t.

Ta’Neasha Chappell said I need help twenty times.

The country has said not yet for twenty years.

She has stopped waiting.

We should be, too. It is happening again somewhere in America where racial bias lives and thrives.