Adilah Patton went to the emergency room at Eskenazi Health. After being discharged, the 21-year-old spent the night in the waiting room.
It was January 2018. Patton was trying to stay warm that winter; the temperature outside was 34 degrees and she had no home of her own.
Hospital police arrested her for trespassing.
Eskenazi鈥檚 officers wrote in their report that Patton had previously caused 鈥渁 disturbance鈥 at the hospital by loitering. They gave her another trespass card with orders: unless seeking medical treatment, stay away.
鈥淓skenazi was her safe space,鈥 said Patton鈥檚 mother, Ebony Chisholm. 鈥淚 took her there so many times for mental health evaluations. I wanted help getting her committed.鈥
But the family said Eskenazi didn鈥檛 help. Instead, the city鈥檚 lone public hospital put their daughter in handcuffs.
Eskenazi Health declined to comment on Patton鈥檚 case, citing a patient privacy law. But what happened to the Indianapolis woman isn鈥檛 unique: Records from the past five years show the hospital鈥檚 police force arrested someone, on average, every two to three days. Eskenazi鈥檚 leadership said a police force is necessary to protect staff and patients. 鈥淎rrest is the last resort,鈥 said spokesperson Todd Harper.
Still, from 2020 to 2025, Eskenazi officers made more than 800 arrests. According to a Mirror Indy analysis of the hospital鈥檚 records, a majority of people were arrested for non-violent offenses. Many records cited multiple offenses that led to an arrest, but the most frequent were misdemeanors: disorderly conduct, criminal trespass and resisting law enforcement.
And experts say these types of incidents 鈥 especially in healthcare settings 鈥 often .
鈥淲hen people aren鈥檛 responding to orders or behaving rationally, police can view these behaviors as illegal rather than symptoms of an illness,鈥 said , a professor at the University of California, Davis who treats patients with psychosis. 鈥淭he person will end up in jail instead of getting the treatment they need.鈥
That鈥檚 what happened to Patton.
The Indianapolis woman has been diagnosed with schizophrenia. She has been arrested more than 30 times for criminal trespass.
After giving birth to her first child at Eskenazi, Patton lost custody and became homeless. She haunted the city鈥檚 parking garages, hotels, convention center, malls and hospitals, often looking for help or a place to sleep.
But no one wanted to see her. Most banned her from their properties.
Each incident was another stop in an endless cycle that led to the same place: a jail cell.
In an interview with Mirror Indy, Eskenazi鈥檚 leaders said they did not track what happens to people like Patton after they鈥檝e been arrested by hospital police 鈥 including whether a person was charged by the Prosecutor鈥檚 Office, convicted of a crime or simply released. That raises questions about whether an arrest was the appropriate response in each case.
Patton鈥檚 case represents larger issues communities across the country are grappling with, including access to mental health treatment, workplace violence and the role of police in both.
In 2013, Indiana allowed hospitals to form their own police departments 鈥 joining more than with similar laws. It was a response to against nurses and doctors nationwide.
In the wake of 2020 protests against police brutality, officials in Indianapolis and other cities have invested in 鈥 highlighting a national discussion about whether officers are the best response to people in crisis. But, after many state psychiatric institutions closed in the 1990s, there鈥檚 also a shortage of .
The question remains: where are people in crisis supposed to go?
Chisholm, Patton鈥檚 mother, said Eskenazi was the family鈥檚 first answer. The public hospital鈥檚 includes caring and advocating for 鈥渢he vulnerable populations of Marion County.鈥
But, Chisholm said, staff at Eskenazi failed her daughter the most.
鈥淭hey just looked at Adilah and made her get out,鈥 Chisholm said. 鈥淭hey knew she was a paranoid schizophrenic and they didn鈥檛 care.鈥
Marion County sheriff: Think twice before they 鈥榩ull out the handcuffs鈥
In an interview with Mirror Indy, Eskenazi leadership said less than 1% of the hospital鈥檚 police runs in 2025 ended in arrest. They said the hospital鈥檚 officers had about 59,000 runs that year 鈥 everything from directing traffic to responding to staff pressing panic buttons.
Harper, the spokesperson, said Eskenazi鈥檚 officers 鈥減ut patient care first鈥 and undergo training for de-escalating situations and responding to mental health issues. Medical staff also receive training for and connect patients to .
Additionally, Eskenazi has a team responding to crises inside the hospital. Psychiatrists and mental health clinicians evaluate and treat patients who display signs of anxiety, aggression or psychosis. Last year, the team was used 26 times.
鈥淭here are multiple interactions and opportunities to get somebody de-escalated before anybody would even call security,鈥 said Tracy Martin, Eskenazi Health鈥檚 chief nursing officer. 鈥淭hat鈥檚 not a first line of defense.鈥
But, according to the Marion County sheriff, arrests were still happening too often.
For years, the Sheriff鈥檚 Office partnered with Eskenazi to train the hospital鈥檚 officers and grant them limited law-enforcement authority. In January, Sheriff Kerry Forestal announced he was ending the special deputy program. In an interview with Mirror Indy, he cited concerns about officers at Eskenazi 鈥減utting hands鈥 on patients experiencing mental illness.
鈥淚 don鈥檛 think law enforcement needs to be involved in healthcare,鈥 Forestal said. 鈥淵ou can鈥檛 solve everything by arresting someone.鈥
Eskenazi Health declined to comment on the sheriff鈥檚 concerns.
As the partnership with the hospital wound down, the Sheriff鈥檚 Office started reviewing arrests at Eskenazi before accepting someone into the jail. The goal was to provide more oversight.
Ultimately, some arrests were not pursued. The Sheriff鈥檚 Office, a spokesperson said, asked Eskenazi to stop prioritizing lower-level offenses, including trespassing cases.
The hospital鈥檚 officers, Foresteal said, need to 鈥渢hink a second time before they quickly pull out the handcuffs.鈥
Majority of people arrested were not physically violent
Under the Sheriff鈥檚 Office, Eskenazi Health had 98 officers 鈥 a of entire cities, including the police departments for Muncie and Mishawaka.
After the separation, the hospital鈥檚 parent organization formed its own independent police department and added about a dozen new hires.
Now named the , the force has 117 officers who rotate handling security for Eskenazi鈥檚 main campus, the hospital鈥檚 affiliated clinics, the Marion County Public Health Department and Indianapolis Emergency Medical Services. Officers are trained through the .
This year鈥檚 projected security budget is $9.6 million. Eskenazi Health鈥檚 spokesperson said about 5% of the Health and Hospital Corporation鈥檚 budget comes from property taxes, but was unsure how many tax dollars, if any, pay for the hospital鈥檚 police force.
Every day, about a dozen officers patrol Eskenazi Health鈥檚 1.3 million square foot hospital campus, which sees more than a each year.
Records from the past five years provided by Eskenazi Health show about 90% of arrests happened on the hospital鈥檚 main campus or the roads adjacent to it. A fraction were scattered across the city at Eskenazi鈥檚 affiliate locations 鈥 and , and a for people in recovery for mental illness and substance abuse.
The reports show how hospital officers are being used to manage disputes and disturbances 鈥 often over patient care, homelessness and mental health crises.
For example, on Jan. 25, 2020, officers arrested someone lying on the ground in the parking lot. They had been discharged from the hospital, according to Eskenazi, and refused to leave.
Less than a month later, on Feb. 16, 2020, a person was arrested for sleeping in an 鈥渦nauthorized area.鈥 They鈥檇 been arrested for trespassing at the hospital before.
On July 7, 2022, officers arrested someone for yelling in the ER. They were 鈥渄isrupting patients and staff,鈥 according to records, and refused to 鈥渓ower their voice.鈥
On March 29, 2025, officers arrested a person for calling 911 鈥渨ithout a reason.鈥 The incident was listed as occurring at the hospital鈥檚 address. Eskenazi cited an to curb misuse of emergency services.
Eskenazi leadership did not specifically answer questions about trends in arrests or cases. 鈥淚 don鈥檛 know the context,鈥 Martin, the head of nursing, told Mirror Indy. 鈥淚 don鈥檛 know what the officer experienced.鈥
Some incidents escalated further, according to Eskenazi鈥檚 description in records, with violence. They often began when someone was asked to leave and resisted police.
In about 14% of arrests, there were reports of battery against hospital police. Only one of these cases, according to records, caused injuries that required emergency medical attention.
A smaller share of arrests 鈥 about 4% 鈥 involved physical attacks against nurses, doctors and medics. Those cases included allegations of hospital staff being punched, scratched, choked, spit on or sexually assaulted.
In another 4% of incidents, officers responded to reports of patients, visitors or bystanders physically attacking each other.
In a few cases, reports cited multiple victims 鈥 such as medical staff and officers being attacked in the same incident.
Altogether, about 77% of the arrests were for non-violent offenses. Those include property damage, traffic violations, threats, substance abuse, public indecency, theft, disorderly conduct, trespassing and resisting law enforcement.
鈥淚f we got to that last resort,鈥 said Martin, Eskenazi鈥檚 chief nursing officer, 鈥渢hen I鈥檓 very confident that they tried everything else.鈥
鈥楬ospitals shouldn鈥檛 be able to hide behind privacy laws鈥
Eskenazi Health redacted the names of people arrested in the records they provided Mirror Indy, making it difficult to know what happened afterward 鈥 including if someone was charged or convicted of a crime. They also declined to provide a roster of officers.
The hospital cited the , a federal law that prohibits the release of patient medical information. 鈥淚ndividuals encountered by law enforcement within our facilities may be patients, visitors or others seeking care,鈥 a spokesperson for Eskenazi Health said in an April 8 email. 鈥淩evealing their names could directly or indirectly disclose protected health information.鈥
An attorney interviewed by Mirror Indy, however, cited , which requires agencies to disclose arrest information.
鈥淎rrest records do not fall under HIPPA,鈥 said Steve Key, the former executive director and general counsel for the Hoosier State Press Association. 鈥淲hen you reach the point that someone has been accused of something serious enough for police to arrest them, that incident is not a medical record. It鈥檚 an arrest record with publicly available information.鈥
He continued: 鈥淎s a country, we are opposed to secret arrests, so the information should be made available.鈥
is an assistant law professor at The University of California, Irvine who studies police in healthcare settings. She also questioned Eskenazi鈥檚 decision to withhold the names of people arrested.
鈥淗ospitals shouldn鈥檛 be able to hide behind privacy laws meant to protect patients,鈥 Song said. 鈥淓specially if public dollars are being used to police patients that are coming to them for care.鈥
Mirror Indy has requested information on charges related to arrests at Eskenazi Health from the Marion County Prosecutor鈥檚 Office.
Mirror Indy has also requested jail bookings linked to arrests at Eskenazi Health from the Marion County Sheriff鈥檚 Office, and the names of Eskenazi鈥檚 officers.
The Marion County Prosecutor鈥檚 Office did not respond to questions about hospital arrests.
Eskenazi鈥檚 security tactics 鈥榢eep our staff safe鈥
An October 2025 presentation on security at Eskenazi Health painted a picture of a hospital under siege.
鈥淲orkplace safety is one of the greatest risks facing our corporation,鈥 Dr. Lisa Harris, the CEO of Eskenazi Health, told board members at a Health and Hospital Corporation meeting. 鈥淲e recognize our security team as our patient safety heroes.鈥
At the meeting, Martin, the chief nursing officer of Eskenazi Health, described rising incidents after the pandemic.
鈥淚t鈥檚 not uncommon for someone in the ER to pick up a chair, stool, or computer and throw it at someone,鈥 she said. 鈥淥ur risk department reviews patients who demonstrate consistent disruptive and aggressive behavior. We can put a flag in their chart.鈥
The hospital鈥檚 security budget has grown in the last six years by about 150%. Outside of officer salaries, it also covers new equipment 鈥 including metal detectors.
Martin鈥檚 PowerPoint displayed pictures of guns, knives, lighters and scissors confiscated by officers manning Eskenazi鈥檚 entrances. A graphic counted the 2,200 panic buttons and 837 security cameras on the property.
At one point during the presentation, Martin held up a spit hood.
This see-through, lightweight sack is often used by jails. It鈥檚 placed over someone鈥檚 head to prevent biting or spitting. found the devices, which can cause suffocation, were associated with at least five patient deaths nationwide in medical settings. An Eskenazi spokesperson said the hospital鈥檚 use of spit hoods is 鈥渆xtremely infrequent鈥 and reserved for situations where a person is at 鈥渢he highest level of escalation possible.鈥
鈥淲hen a patient is spitting, we may place a spit hood on them,鈥 Martin said during her presentation. 鈥淭hat鈥檚 one way we are trying to keep our staff safe.鈥
Experts, though, warned that vulnerable people are getting caught up in police overreach 鈥 and the presence of officers at the hospital can escalate situations.
鈥淭his just sounds like a jail,鈥 said Song, the assistant law professor. 鈥淲orkplace violence concerns are valid, but automatically assuming every patient is dangerous creates an environment of policing and surveillance, not health and healing.鈥
Shim, the psychiatrist based in California, said there鈥檚 a longstanding misconception that people with mental illness are more prone to violence. they鈥檙e actually more likely to be victims of it.
鈥淚t鈥檚 really traumatic for someone to be arrested because of their mental illness,鈥 Shim said. 鈥淭hey鈥檙e going to associate getting help with punishment.鈥
, the CEO of Sandra Eskenazi Mental Health Center, said the hospital鈥檚 security and staff are not stigmatizing people.
鈥淲e work very hard to make sure everyone is trained and recognizes the signs of mental illness,鈥 she said. 鈥淭hat does not preclude the potential for an appropriate arrest.鈥
Overley acknowledged that there鈥檚 a national issue with people being criminalized for mental illness and homelessness. But, she said, the problem is not specific to Eskenazi.
鈥淭here鈥檚 no simple solution,鈥 Overley said. 鈥淚t鈥檚 a more complicated issue than 鈥榡ust don鈥檛 arrest people.鈥欌
When asked about these issues and the frequency of arrests, the top leader of the Health and Hospital Corporation of Marion County, which manages Eskenazi Health, didn鈥檛 seem surprised.
鈥淲e take care of vulnerable people,鈥 CEO Paul Babcock said during a September 2025 meeting with Mirror Indy reporters. 鈥淥ur job is to take care of them, but also make sure we keep our staff safe. And we鈥檙e always going to do that in a way that is dignified and appropriate based on the situation.鈥
That answer wasn鈥檛 satisfying to the family of Adilah Patton, the Indianapolis woman arrested several times at Eskenazi while struggling with schizophrenia.
鈥淭hey are criminalizing people for mental illness,鈥 said Chisholm, Patton鈥檚 mother. 鈥淢y daughter wasn鈥檛 treated with dignity. She was completely dismissed.鈥
鈥楽he鈥檚 been failed鈥
Patton kept showing up at Eskenazi for a reason.
Alexis Watts would drive through downtown looking for her cousin. Her childhood memories slowly stopped matching the person she found.
鈥淎dilah wanted to learn to do hair,鈥 Watts said. 鈥淪he wanted her high school diploma. She wanted to be a mother.鈥
Patton, who once lovingly labored over style and fashion, was increasingly marked by illness: her hair was matted, and sometimes she wore only a hospital gown.
One day, the family found her pregnant. They do not believe she had the capacity to consent.
鈥淪he was raped on the streets,鈥 Watts said. 鈥淚f I were in her shoes, I would鈥檝e kept showing up at the hospital, too.鈥
After the assault, Patton received care at Eskenazi for her pregnancy. She was in jail at the time, but went to Eskenazi to give birth to her second child.
All told, Patton spent more than 800 days in jail for criminal trespass. That鈥檚 more than two years of her life.
The misdemeanor charges stemmed from Patton鈥檚 arrests at Eskenazi and dozens of others at locations across the city. Some cases became felonies when she kept returning to the same properties 鈥 a sign, experts said, of her worsening symptoms. She was also arrested at Eskenazi a second time for stealing another woman鈥檚 formula and diapers.
Taxpayer dollars covered the daily costs to keep Patton locked up for the various trespassing charges. In the end, the county appears to have spent more than $60,000 on her jail time, based on the daily costs to hold inmates.
Eventually, the Marion County Sheriff鈥檚 Office petitioned a court to give Patton a guardian 鈥 someone who manages finances, medical care and other decisions for a person who is incapacitated. was appointed.
Patton鈥檚 family said they were not included in this process.
Things came to a head in June 2022. In a court filing, Patton鈥檚 guardian said medical staff at the Marion County Jail held Patton down, dislocated her thumb and injected an antipsychotic drug against her will. A federal lawsuit over civil rights violations was resolved in 2025. The Sheriff鈥檚 Office said there was no monetary settlement, but the jail now checks records to see if an inmate has a court-appointed guardian.
Now, Patton is under the care of a state psychiatric hospital in Richmond.
鈥淭he world sees a crazy person, but it鈥檚 her trauma,鈥 Watts said. 鈥淎dilah is not a bad person. She has a family that loves her. And she鈥檚 been failed by multiple systems.鈥
Sometimes, Watts drives to visit her cousin. She鈥檒l bring along food, or Skittles from the gas station.
Patton once asked her to bring a black wig next time. She wants to do her hair nice again. Sometimes, she wonders aloud about the two babies she had and where they are. On a good day, and with the right medication, Patton鈥檚 almost back to herself.
鈥淵ou know I was looking for you right?鈥 Watts asked during one visit.
鈥淵eah?鈥 Patton replied.
鈥淚 found out you were here. This isn鈥檛 the ideal place, but you鈥檙e safe. You鈥檙e not on the street. That鈥檚 no place for you.鈥
鈥淚 know,鈥 Patton said.
They hugged for the first time in years. Patton鈥檚 eyes filled with tears.
___
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