'They'll never be the same': Community shaken in wake of Franklin soccer coach arrest

Editor’s note: This story references sexual abuse against children. If you or someone you know is a victim of sexual assault, you can call the National Sexual Assault Hotline at 800-656-HOPE (4673).

Camilo Hurtado Campos, a Franklin soccer coach not affiliated with any league, is accused of raping more than a dozen young boys who had been drugged.

Based on the addresses Campos provided to Franklin Police, the location of Campos' home gave him ample access to children — and possibly particularly vulnerable ones.

One address he gave belongs to a multi-family home on Glass Lane, a street about one mile west of downtown Franklin. Police said this is where he most recently lived.

His believed residence, a unit in a one-story, cinderblock house, is right across the street from a youth soccer field and sandwiched between two schools. Johnson Elementary is directly to the right of the home, and Freedom Intermediate is fewer than 200 yards away, where Glass Lane makes a sharp right turn.

Adjacent to the field is an apartment complex home to hundreds of Franklin's working class families, many of whom found themselves in shock when they heard the news.

Victoria Kemp, 50, lives in that apartment complex and said she immediately thought of her children and the many others who grew up in the area.

“I was in shock," Kemp said. "My girls grew up in this complex, and then my heart broke thinking were any of these babies affected that are now older?”

Some say Campos may have exploited 'hole' in system

Williamson County General Sessions Judge Denise Andre bound Campos' case over to a grand jury last month during a preliminary hearing. Media and onlookers were not allowed in the courtroom during that hearing, meaning little is publicly known about the case against Campos.

Campos, 63, is charged with sexual exploitation of a minor and two counts of rape of a child.

Police said that Campos told the Department of Homeland Security that he had entered the country illegally and lived in the area for roughly 20 years. Campos also had previous arrests for less serious offenses like driving without a license and public intoxication.

After police disclosed Campos’ self-reported immigration status, politicians were quick to attack Homeland Security and question what allowed Campos to remain in Franklin for so long.

Yuri Cunza, president and CEO of the Nashville Area Hispanic Chamber of Commerce, said he thinks it’s necessary to address how the nation deals with the millions of people living in the United States illegally. But at the same time, Campos’ race is irrelevant to this situation, he said.

“Crime is present in all kinds of communities regardless of their race or … financial or economic status, or any of that,” Cunza said. “That appears in all races and all backgrounds, and the legal status will not deter that.”

Studies have shown “substantially lower crime rates” among immigrants lacking permanent legal status compared with native-born people and people who immigrated legally, and that growth in unauthorized immigration does not lead to an increase in local crime rates.

Cunza said for minorities, one story often is enough for the community to take a negative view toward that group.

“The community has a tendency to just add a bias on top of an existing bias, and that's what we have to deal with,” he said.

It’s also likely that at least some of the victims in this case were not in the country legally. Hans Hobson, CEO of the Tennessee State Soccer Association, previously told The Tennessean that “rogue” soccer teams like the one police say Campos coached and used to get close with the victims exist primarily to serve residents without permanent legal status.

Karla McKanders, law professor at Vanderbilt University and chair of the American Bar Association’s Commission on Immigration, has worked with many crime victims who lacked legal status and said offenders often manipulated them so they didn’t go to law enforcement out of fear of deportation.

“In abusive situations, similar to what happened to the children, the perpetrator will mention the person's undocumented status and use that over them, so they don't report a crime,” McKanders said.

There are pathways for crime victims without legal status to report a crime without being deported, such as by applying for a U-Visa, a type of visa granted to crime victims who are helpful to authorities in the investigation or prosecution of criminal activity. But it can still be (or at least feel) risky, since, for example, their U-Visa application could be denied, McKanders said.

Cunza said that among children, an already vulnerable population, it’s possible that victims’ legal status made them even more vulnerable to crime or less likely to report.

Campos could have also taken advantage of other factors in the neighborhood where he is accused of recruiting victims, Hobson said.

"I know some people that I've spoken to that live in and around that apartment complex, and you're talking about families where moms and dads work two and three jobs,” he said. “So an older brother or sister may be taking care of their younger sibling, and somebody goes out there and this becomes a grooming process where this individual is creating trust. He may offer them water, they go into the house, come out and everything's fine ... years later down the road after this trust has been earned, they're unfortunately able to take advantage."

And because the team wasn’t affiliated with any league, there were very little safeguards in place. All in all, Hobson said he thinks Campos found a “hole” in the system and exploited it. Now, the Tennessee State Soccer Association is taking this as a chance to analyze how it operates to add more protections for children. For example, practicing transparency on its website and allowing people to see a list of Tennessee State Soccer Association clubs and what Safesport training steps they have completed.

“We have to constantly look at this and make sure ... are youth sports protected?” he said.

Hobson said there is a fear and uncertainty among families as to whether or not their kids are safe, and he believes parents should be asking the important questions when choosing a sports club.

"There should never be an opportunity where a coach is working individually with a kid, the coach should never be bringing a kid into their house, there's never a time where a coach is texting the kid individually, there should be a group text with the team or mom and dad are on that," he said.

Michael Johnson, a 27-year-old consultant who lives in an apartment across the street from Campos' home, coaches his child's soccer team for the YMCA and said parents should make sure to keep an eye on the authority figures in their children's lives.

“Was anybody around? Was anybody knowing? You've got to talk to your kids,” Johnson said.

Community 'shocked' and 'heartbroken'

Just yards away from the multi-family home where Campos lived resides Donna Ladd, a 71-year-old retiree and a lifelong resident of Franklin. Ladd has resided in The Whitney apartment complex for four years.

The pink, decorative wreath on her door matched her sunny disposition.

Although she and most others in the complex said they don't remember ever seeing Campos, she said learning about what took place makes her frightened as this was the first time she ever heard of anything like this. "I wasn't afraid over here before but being that close? I'm afraid now."

Kemp said she hopes that if a child is hurt by someone they trust, their parents are there to listen and believe them.

“Listen to the kids," Kemp said. "This is the philosophy I go by and the advice I give to parents with younger children: Always remember what it’s like to be a kid, because you can easily forget that. And you have to put yourself in a young person’s shoes.”

Ladd said everyone in the apartment complex shares the same sentiment — shock. About the victims, Ladd said "they'll never be the same."

The Franklin Special School District said it is "heartbroken" by the news and will assist police however possible. Campos' home on Glass Lane was less than a quarter-mile away from two FSSD schools: Freedom Intermediate and Johnson Elementary.

"We are heartbroken for the families who are affected by the suspect's alleged criminal acts," said FSSD Communications Specialist Susannah Gentry. "If requested, we will assist the Franklin Police Department in any way we can.

"We have not had concerned citizens request the school district's help in reporting or understanding the information shared by the FPD, but if we do, we will immediately assist them in contacting the proper authorities."

If you are a victim

Police have identified many victims of the crimes, and many others have come forward. If you are a victim, consider this information:

• If you are hesitant to contact law enforcement directly, Cunza and the Nashville Area Hispanic Chamber of Commerce (NAHCC) can help safely facilitate that.

• NAHCC said it can also assist victims in finding support resources.

• NAHCC can be reached at 615-216-5737.

• Victims of rape or sexual abuse who are in the U.S. illegally are eligible for U-Visa consideration. For more information on U-Visas, click here.

Evan Mealins is the justice reporter for The Tennessean. Contact him at emealins@gannett.com or follow him on Twitter @EvanMealins.

Diana Leyva covers breaking and trending news for The Tennessean. Connect with her by email at Dleyva@gannett.com or follow her on twitter at @_leyvadiana.

This article originally appeared on Nashville Tennessean: Community shaken in wake of Franklin coach Camilo Hurtado Campos case