By: Nick Buglione
The girl was Megan Kanka, and the law now bearing her name stands as one of the most groundbreaking, and controversial, in the nation's history.
Richard and Maureen Kanka lived for 15 years in Hamilton Township, which seemed like a quiet, safe place to raise their daughter. But on July 29, 1994, they learned differently. Lured into Jesse Timmendequas' home in the hope of seeing his puppy, Megan was killed just 30 yards from her own front door.
"We knew nothing about him," said the girl's mother on the Megan Nicole Kanka Foundation's Web site. "If we had been aware of his record, my daughter would be alive today."
Timmendequas had served six years for aggravated assault and attempted sexual assault of another child.
In the weeks after their daughter's tragic death, the Kankas championed passage of a law requiring notification when a convicted sex offender moves into a community. Local support for the law was overwhelming, as 400,000 people signed a petition for its passage. The New Jersey Legislature and then-Gov. Christine Todd Whitman needed just 89 days to sign Megan's Law.
New York state followed suit, passing its own version of the law in 1995 after the Kankas pressured the state Assembly to consider the bill, said Tom Dunham, spokesman for state Sen. Dean Skelos (R-Rockville Centre), who authored New York's Megan's Law.
"The Assembly refused to move it to the floor for a vote," Dunham said, noting that the Kankas' effort is "the reason Megan's Law passed in New York state."
The law went federal on May 17, 1996, and today every state has a sex-offender registry in place and a means to disseminate the information to the public.
Despite its rapid enactment, the law was criticized as often as it was lauded. Civil liberties unions dubbed it the "Scarlet Letter Law," maintaining that it unfairly punished sex offenders and guaranteed recidivism by ensuring they could never become productive members of society. Critics also claimed the law incited acts of violence against the convicted.
"You want ex-sex offenders to become constructive members of society," said Barbara Bernstein, executive director of the Nassau County chapter of the New York Civil Liberties Union. "That becomes impossible if the entire world can monitor their every action."
One man Bernstein is working with was just thrown out of his apartment, despite being a good tenant, after his landlord learned he was a convicted sex offender, she said.
But Laura Ahearn, executive director of the Suffolk County-based Parents for Megan's Law, said, "Sex offenders have the highest rate of recidivism compared to any other violent offender released into the community. And their crimes have a lifelong impact on their victims."
While there's no way to prove Megan's Law is working with hard numbers, Ahearn said anecdotal evidence underscores its success.
In the years since its passage, New York state has made a number of amendments to strengthen Megan's Law. All Level 3 offenders, those deemed most likely to commit a sex crime again, now have to post their work addresses on the registry. Information about sex offenders on college campuses, whether as students or staff members, has since been made available. And while it used to cost $5 to call the state's Sex Offender Registry hotline, the call is now free.
Skelos is currently pushing legislation that, if passed, would place all sex offender information on the Internet, regardless of threat level distinction, Dunham said. Residents can now only learn about Level 3 sex offenders there.
Despite such efforts, Ahearn believes New York's law isn't strong enough and doesn't compare to those of other states. "New York state's Megan's Law is in trouble, and that's because there are nearly 8,000 sex offenders that the state has failed to provide hearings to" determine their threat level, Ahearn said. "And that prevents police from notifying the community."
She also hopes the state will begin registering juvenile sex offenders.
