Did an NHC nursing home let a serial molester run free for seven years?

In a cinderblock nursing home, cradled in the Blue Ridge Mountains surrounding the twin cities of Bristol, Tenn., and Bristol, Va., workers say a predator stalked the elderly in its halls.

They say that for nearly a decade, he fondled, groped and may have even sodomized patients—some of whom couldn't walk, speak or see.

Affidavits, an investigator's memo and other documents obtained by the Scene identify the man as James W. Wright, a nurses' aide. Wright declined to comment when the Scene contacted him at his Bristol, Va., home.

But despite repeated complaints from fellow employees, managers at the National HealthCare Corp. (NHC) Bristol facility allowed him to stay on the job.

Wright's co-workers were bewildered by what they describe as management's lackadaisical attitude toward their allegations. Many left in disgust. Wright only resigned in 2007, several months after a Bristol police investigation of the home. Det. DeeDra Branson, the officer in charge, refused to say what that inquiry revealed.

As the complaints threatened to become public, however, pressure was applied to NHC on the victims' behalf. It is not known how much NHC has paid to keep the allegations against Wright quiet. But sources say several cases were settled before they ever went to court. Parke Morris, an attorney for the victims' families, declined comment.

But now the nursing home industry is moving to restrict lawsuits in situations such as this. State Sen. Jim Tracy of Murfreesboro, home to NHC, wants to restrict punitive damages in abuse cases to $300,000—if the home can prove it was fully staffed at the time of an incident.

The industry—and NHC in particular—are pleading poverty as their cause. In their PR campaign, nursing homes have argued that frivolous suits by out-of-state lawyers are diverting money from patient care and employee wages.

If the industry has fallen on hard times, though, it isn't showing. The health-care lobby has given Tracy $23,000 in campaign contributions. According to the Center for Responsive Politics, NHC's political action committee spent $10,000 on Congressman Bart Gordon of Murfreesboro, and gave $84,000 in political contributions during 2008 to push its interests.

Moreover, NHC's ledgers look downright hearty. It's one of the 15 largest nursing home chains in the country, with about 60 facilities in Tennessee and others spread from Arizona to Florida. Since 2000, according to the corporation's own 10-k and the Tennessee Association for Justice, its net income has climbed to $43 million—a whopping 326-percent rise.

The company's part of an estimated $125 billion industry, with taxpayers picking up roughly 70 percent of that tab. Homes have become so lucrative that independents have been gobbled up by investors and corporations. And that, says the Health Researchers and Educational Trust, has caused a corresponding decline in care. The ratcheting-up of profit margins, they argue, has often caused short-staffing. A separate AARP-funded study also found that for-profit nursing homes can generally be associated with lesser care.

But the serial problems at NHC Bristol show how bad nursing care can be—and how even civil liability cases involving rape of the elderly may soon be restricted under Tennessee law.

Those who've worked with James Wright, 35, describe him as stocky, short, maybe 5-foot-5 with curly, thinning hair. He is particular about his scrubs, arriving cleaned and pressed before work each day.

The first complaint against him came in early 2000, according to a memo written by private investigator Lloyd Emmons, a former DeKalb County Sheriff and Tennessee trooper. The daughter of a resident we'll call Emma—to maintain the privacy of alleged victims, the Scene has changed their names—noticed her mother became agitated whenever Wright was around. Emma was suffering from the early stages of dementia, but was reportedly still lucid.

Emma would swat defensively at Wright, according to her daughter. She also complained that Wright "fingered me and he hurt me." The daughter reported her concerns to Charge Nurse Helen Roberts, but said the nurse defended Wright and persuaded her not to ban him from Emma's room. Through her husband, Roberts declined to comment for this article.

After seeking counsel from her pastor and Emma's private sitter, the daughter resolved to have Wright banned from the room. Emma's complaints stopped.

Co-workers say Charge Nurse Roberts remained Wright's steadiest defender, invariably taking his side as the allegations began to mount. Roberts was a religious woman, says former NHC patient-care coordinator Amy Edwards, and Wright's professed piety curried favor in her eyes.

"James played that card with her," Edwards claims. "He was wearing a wedding band, and when asked who it was, he said he was married to Jesus. I think that kinda blinded her eyes."

Not long after he was removed from Emma's care chart, two aides came forward with more accusations against Wright. As they were folding bibs at a desk, they said, they saw Wright pushing a resident, "Delores," in a wheelchair to the dayroom. Delores had limited speaking abilities and could not walk on her own. The aides claim Wright's arms and hands were draped over her breasts as he pushed her down the hall.

Later, he and Delores left the dayroom for her own quarters, ostensibly to clean up. In an affidavit, an aide who asked not to be identified because of her current employment testified that she heard Delores "screamin' and hollerin' " from her room. She entered to find Delores sitting on the toilet, pointing at her genitals and saying over and over, "He hurt. He hurt." Wright was standing over her.