Parole and probation officer Jess Anders said his rules for felons he supervises are steadfast.

No meth. Report in on time. No new crimes.

However, he’d like to change a rule governing his job: Limit the number of offenders he supervises to 35 at a time.

Anders, a former Salem cop who lost his hearing in one ear after being shot 14 years ago, cruises the streets of Bend and dirt roads of Deschutes County checking up on the most difficult parolees the office has to offer 53 of them.

He said it’s about 18 offenders too many.

And he’s got it good.

Most Deschutes County probation officers are carrying about 80 cases while others have as many as 108 offenders to watch over.

The workload makes it difficult, if not impossible, for some parole officers to keep tight reins on offenders to protect the communities in which they live.

”Types of offenders range from thieves to rapists and do require supervision, but essentially our hands are tied right now because we cannot provide the service we are supposed to be providing,” said Becky Jackson, director of Deschutes County Adult Parole and Probation. Communities in Deschutes County are likely in greater danger because of the limited supervision, Jackson said.

An explosion in felony cases in Deschutes County during the past several years has outpaced state funding to the county and hiring of parole officers to keep tabs on felons.

The office’s caseload went from 900 to 1,300 between 1998 and 2001 with no additional staff hired to take on the increasing workload, Jackson said.

On average, each probation officer carries 30 more cases than he or she did four years ago.

To help keep up with the growth of new offenders, Jackson is asking the Oregon Department of Corrections for about $400,000 more annually to hire nine additional staff members.

In the meantime, caseloads are being piled on, and probation officers have ”become more reactive instead of proactive, and that, obviously, is not a good situation,” Jackson said.

”You can come in on a Tuesday and have five voice mails three clients are in jail, a mother that did not show up for drug rehab, and a report of a sex-offender visiting a house with minors. It’s a constant juggling act,” she said.

With Anders ”small” caseload, he is able to spend about 22 hours a week making home visits. But, he has the worst of the worst felons unwilling to change. Anders has carved out his niche for the hardest cases. He said it made sense to give all the toughest cases to one officer rather than parole officers spending the majority of their time on a few offenders unwilling to cooperate.

His caseload contains the repeat offenders that other parole officers handed over to him for intensive supervision. He’s been dealing with some offenders off and on for a decade. They require both an office visit and a home visit every week.

Other offenders the office handles are assessed to be lower risk and may only be visited once a month or once every two months.

Anders navigates the streets in a retired police car driving from rundown apartments to trailer courts in some of the most depressed areas of Bend. He tracks methamphetamine addicts who won’t go clean, car thieves and violent offenders.

He carries a 9 mm pistol on his hip.

”There is a reason why judges put people on probation,” he said as he drove along Greenwood Avenue. ”It’s because a supervisor needs to change his behavior. Victims believe that is what probation and parole officers should be doing. The public expects that the core of supervision should be in the community and not in our office.”

But increasing caseloads are chaining parole officers to their desks, Jackson said. With additional reports and office visits, they have less time to visit offenders in their communities.

”You really have to see your clients environment to know what you’re dealing with,” Anders, a 14-year veteran, said as he rolled up to an apartment complex on Purcell Boulevard.

Anders is there to check on a 19-year-old man a suspect in two drive-by shootings before being convicted of first-degree assault and stealing a car. Anders said he’s been out of prison three months and still has not found a job. That worries Anders. He said the teen must make steps towards a legitimate lifestyle, and any motion otherwise is going in the wrong direction. So he is requiring the 19-year-old to apply for five jobs a day.

Ray-Bans covering his eyes and a bright blue and yellow tie about his neck, Anders trods the asphalt into the complex and finds his ”client” at home living at his mother’s apartment.

The 19-year-old emerges from the apartment in a black T-shirt with blond, cropped hair with black roots and a goatee. He saunters down the steps and meets Anders on the concrete sidewalk next to the two-story building.

”Why aren’t you out looking for a job,” Anders asks.

”My friend’s supposed to come by and give me a ride, but he doesn’t want to take me around,” he said.

”Maybe you need a bike to get around,” Anders suggests. ”If you’d use it to look for work, that way you don’t have to wait on your friend. We can get you one if you’d use it to find work. … You can’t sell it or trade it.”

Anders leaves the apartment, noting the teen has several days before having to show he has searched for work.

”If he hasn’t done it, he’ll have to go back to jail,” he said. ”That was our deal.”

Parole officers at Deschutes County have several years experience of working in corrections. Some, like Anders, are former police officers. They also must complete a four-week parole training at the Department of Public Safety Standards and Training in Monmouth. They are sworn officers with the ability to arrest offenders.

Compared with other similar-sized counties, Deschutes does appear to be lagging behind on staff for parole and probation.

Deschutes County has 13 parole officers and 1,300 felony cases or 100 felons per parole officer. Linn County has 19 parole officers to deal with 1,369 felons or 72 felons per parole officer. Douglas County has 13 for 1,210 felons or 93 felons per officer.

But individual caseloads of specific offenders are even more out of adjustment.

For instance, Deschutes County has two parole officers assigned to sexual offenders. Currently, they carry caseloads of 85 and 70. In Linn and Douglas county, sex offender parole officers carry between 55 and 65 cases each.

Directors believe those numbers to be too high.

”Fifty to 60 intensive cases is all you want to give anybody,” said Suzanne Gonzales, director of Parole and Probation in Douglas County. ”Ideally, 40 would be a great number, especially with sex offenders.”

Jackson, Deschutes County parole and probation director, currently has a $1.75 million annual budget, but she is holding out for the additional $400,000 a year from the Department of Corrections. She expects an answer on her budget proposal from Deschutes County Sheriff Les Stiles by June.

Stiles will base his decision on how much state corrections adds to the sheriff’s office budget.

With the money, Jackson plans to hire four new parole officers, three case aids to help with routine tasks and two much-needed front office staff.

With the advent of computers, more and more of a parole officer’s time has been relegated to filling out reports and updating computer files work office staff used to do.

For example, Jackson said that in 1980 there were six parole officers and three office staff to help with reports and in 2001 there are 13 and just two office staff.

”If we’re looking at no additional help after June, I’ll be very concerned about my people,” Jackson said. ”I’m concerned about them now, I’m concerned about their stress levels. It’s frustrating, they’re so dedicated and want to do what they should be doing, but they can’t.”