JEFFERSON COUNTY — Leslie Lutz and her sister Louise Tesson had a way with small children.

Every weekday about 7 a.m., parents toting infant carriers and diaper bags arrived at Lutz's tidy ranch house in a subdivision near Arnold. Tesson gave the little ones pet names such as Crunch 'n' Munch and Little Cracker Jacker. And Lutz was generous with parenting tips.

"The kids were drawn to Leslie," said Denise Weiberg, who sent two of her children to day care in Lutz's finished basement. "They really liked her."

So she didn't press Lutz about whether she had, or even needed, a license.

It also never crossed the minds of Steve and Shelley Blecha.

After interviewing five sitters, they found Lutz through a church referral, and liked her.

"You feel you could trust who your church is telling you to go to," Shelley said.

A year ago last Thursday the Blechas' second son, Nathan, died at age 4 months in a portable crib in Lutz's home, after being placed on his abdomen for a nap. The St. Louis County Medical Examiner's office ruled the cause of death "re-breath," the breathing in of carbon dioxide exhaled by the baby, who was too young to turn his head away from a wrinkle in the mattress.

The next day, Lutz shut the day care for good.

According to state records, Lutz had obtained a license to cut hair and one to practice massage, but when it came to child care, she never applied to the Missouri Department of Health and Senior Services' Child Care Regulation section. That's the unit that inspects day cares and issues licenses for people routinely caring for more than four unrelated children.

Nathan's parents say they have been waiting "for the system to kick in." But nothing has happened: no criminal charges, no fines, no outrage and no reform of a child-care oversight system that the Blechas feel did little to prevent or recognize Nathan's death.

Steve Blecha said he called the Jefferson County sheriff's office early this year and was told the death had been ruled accidental.

He also learned that the most Lutz could be fined for operating without a license was $200 — a fine so small that Blecha said it didn't matter that prosecutors didn't pursue it.

"It's just so frustrating how we fell through so many nets," he said. "It's just that nothing happened."

Missouri Auditor Susan Montee, who has been pressing for major changes in child-care oversight in the state, said Nathan's case was indicative of a system that wasn't taking safety seriously enough.

"We need to do stricter oversight and more regulation that protects our children," Montee said, arguing that a child's death should prompt more than remorse among officials.

LICENSES AND

HOME CARE

The Blechas' child-care choice was not unique: The vast majority of Missouri's infants and toddlers who are in child care are in home-based care. More than 1,700 home day cares in Missouri are licensed to care for more than four children. Many parents prefer the smaller, more affordable setting, said Carol Scott, executive director of the Missouri Child Care Resource and Referral Network.

And legislators, wanting to keep home care options available for parents, are reluctant to heavily regulate, Montee said.

Although many are properly licensed, an unknown number are not. In the past year Child Care Regulation found 497 homes where people were caring for too many unrelated children without a license. But many more probably exist. The agency does not actively look for them but investigates complaints about unlicensed homes.

According to Child Care Regulation documents, at the time of Nathan's death the number of unrelated children in the care of Lutz or Tesson had grown to at least six, two over the state limit.

License holders undergo criminal background checks, fire inspections and 12 hours of training a year. Inspectors drop in unannounced to check for compliance with state standards.

These standards are designed to help prevent bad choices and accidents, said Scott.

"Licensing brings basic child protection," she said.

On the day Nathan died, Lutz told investigators, she was running errands and Tesson was watching 10 children. Four of the children were Lutz's and Tesson's grandchildren. Under state rules, they didn't count in the official tally that day — an exemption Montee considers a serious flaw in the state system.

But with six unrelated children — including four under age 2 — the home was still in violation of licensing standards.

Tesson told investigators that Nathan fell asleep in her arms after lunch. Her granddaughter was already asleep in a nearby room with the lights off and the door closed — also forbidden under licensing rules. Tesson did not want to wake either child, so she didn't turn on the lights. She laid Nathan in an adjacent crib on his abdomen — a move she said she knew was risky because of sudden infant death syndrome. She did it, she said, because Nathan had a reflux problem and slept poorly.

Tesson said Nathan almost always fell asleep on his abdomen while she held him. But this was the first time she put him on his abdomen alone in a crib, she said.

She left the room and closed the door.

Tesson found Nathan about 3:30 p.m. with a small pool of blood and vomit near his face.

Lutz's attorney, Kevin Roberts, said Lutz was "absolutely brokenhearted." Roberts said he had advised Lutz not to be interviewed for this story.

Roberts contends that a license probably would not have prevented an accident.

"I don't know that the same thing could not have easily happened in a fully licensed day care as it happened here," he said.

Tesson said she continued to mourn for Nathan. "I pray every day through my own grief and for Steve and Shelley," she said.

The Blechas believe the criminal investigation focused too heavily on Lutz and Tesson's remorse instead of the danger of operating without a license.

Nathan's death was investigated by the Child Services Department of the Department of Social Services. But that department's file, which also cites the sisters' deep regret, shows that the investigator never spoke with them before clearing them of neglect.

NO DETERRENT

The Blechas said they were baffled by the lack of power of the state's child care regulatory arm.

Cindy Hudson, section administrator for Child Care Regulation, said the agency had the power to revoke a license after warnings. But with an unlicensed provider, such as Lutz, the most the agency could do was send a letter to the local prosecutor.

But with a maximum fine of $200, most prosecuting attorneys don't take action.

"It's an infraction. It's not even a criminal offense," said Jefferson County Assistant Prosecutor Mike Ravetta. "It's on the level of a traffic ticket."

Montee's January audit critical of child care safety standards concluded that Child Care Regulation rarely reported unlicensed providers to prosecutors.

Of the 138 unlicensed day cares identified from January 2005 to January 2007, the audit found that only five cases went to prosecutors, and just one was prosecuted.

Hudson said the office began last year to pursue illegal providers more aggressively. It found 497 between May 2007 and last month, but referred just 30 for prosecution because providers came into compliance or closed.

The same state audit also concluded that the tiny fine did little to deter unlicensed providers.

Scott, of the Child Care Resource and Referral Network, said Missouri paled in comparison with Kansas, which aggressively prosecutes and can impose a $500-a-day fine.

In Illinois, which has more than 10,000 licensed home day cares, the fine can go as high as $10,000. Regulators also have the power to close illegal day cares; those in Missouri do not.

The Blechas said they no longer went to Arnold for fear they will run into Lutz. They haven't forgiven, nor forgotten, what happened to Nathan last year.

When Shelley Blecha arrived at the day care that day, the ambulance had left with Nathan. In the basement she found the grim remnants of a trauma scene: tubing and medical packaging. But something else gnaws at her.

"All the kids were there and saw it," she said. "There really wasn't any place they could be moved to be shielded."

Nancy.Cambria@post-dispatch.com

314-340-8238