Army Vet Suffers Consequences Of IL's Inept Unemployment System

CHICAGO — Like thousands of out-of-work Illinoisans, Carlton Jones just wants his unemployment check before he goes broke.

The North Sider made a claim in November after getting laid off as a law firm office manager.

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He called the state unemployment hotline and submitted online questionnaires while waiting on hold. Jones even had his ex-wife reserve an extra spot in the virtual unemployment line using her cell phone number.

As of Wednesday morning, Jones told me he had been in the Illinois Department of Employment Security's "queue" without getting a call back on either line since Jan. 11.

Every day since, his fear and frustration mounted.

A couple of days before the Super Bowl, Jones chucked an unemployment Hail Mary.

He saw an online posting for a job at the state's blundering unemployment department. Rather than submit a resume, he sent a written plea that had gone unanswered dozens of times: Somebody help, please.

"I explained my situation and said, 'Hey, if you could forward this on, I'd really appreciate it,'" Jones said. "I was just hoping for somebody's compassion because I wasn't getting any communication, and it was just a messed-up situation."

That didn't work, either.

Since then, Jones has rigorously kept tabs on the status of his unemployment claim.

"I call every three days. And for the past week, every day I've sent an email to IDES with the same template. And there's no communication. No letter. Nothing," Jones said. "It's frustrating."

Last week, Jones called me.

"All I want is my f------ money that's supposed to be coming to me that I worked hard for," Jones said. "Is there anyway you can help?"

I called around and left a message for the IDES spokesperson, who didn't respond. I reported the news to Jones. "Looks like you're not the only one who can't get a call back," I told him.

The thing is, the 52-year-old Army veteran's frustration over getting ghosted by the state unemployment agency is just part of Jones' story.

His "situation" exemplifies the myriad of ways Gov. J.B. Pritzker's administration has mishandled the state's unemployment crisis brought on by the pandemic.

The economic consequences of coronavirus shutdowns came at a time when IDES staffing was at an "all-time low."

The state unemployment system's technology buckled under the weight of a surge in claims.

And Pritzker's administration didn't meet federal standards for the timely distribution of benefits and the effectiveness of internal audits that detect fraud, among others.

Those things were all problems caused by Republicans and former Gov. Bruce Rauner's administration, Pritzker's administration claims— and a Better Government Association investigative report refutes.

No matter who wins the blame game, folks like Jones suffered the consequences of a broken system that Pritzker said in his budget address this week he wants the Legislature to fix by passing a bill providing $133 million for it.

Jones first encountered the state's unemployment ineptitude while he was still gainfully employed. On Sept. 11, a human resources staffer at Jones' company told him someone had fraudulently used his Social Security number to apply for unemployment.

On the same day, the firm's representative and Jones separately sent word to the state employment services department that the claim was fraudulent.

"They thanked me for reporting the fraud," Jones told me.

After Thanksgiving, in the middle of a second wave of COVID-19 that inspired another round of state-mandated lockdowns, Jones got laid off.

When he tried to file for unemployment, he was blocked from logging into the online claim system.

Jones entered the claim number his former employer had flagged on Sept. 11. He discovered that on Sept. 24 — about two weeks after being warned Jones' identity had been used as part of a scam — the state had sent an unemployment payment in his name to a bank in Virginia.

Laid off and living on savings, Jones called IDES for help. Nobody answered the phone.

That was late November, long after Pritzker's administration forked over a $12.7 million no-bid contract to Deloitte Consulting that included hiring people to handle calls from people seeking employment benefits, as WBEZ's Dan Mihalopoulos reported.

That contract did not help Jones, or ease his anxiety.

"Being laid off during the pandemic was stressful enough. … But it was the holidays, too. I was watching my bank account get lower and lower with no way to replenish it," Jones said. "I was tied to the phone waiting for a callback from 7 in the morning until 7 at night. It was a whole lot of undue stress."

It wasn't until Jan. 11 that someone from the state called with instructions on how to file a new claim.

Jones did as he was told. He uploaded photos of his Social Security card, state ID and his last paycheck. That's triple the amount of information required of the scammer who used Jones' identity to pocket unemployment cash. He got a new claim number.

"I figured that settled it — in two weeks, I'd get my money," Jones told me.

The money never came. His phone didn't ring. Jones received nary a letter or email.

Jones, an Army veteran who coaches Little League and has worked every day of his life since he was 18, wasn't too keen on sharing his story of unemployment woe.

But after a month and a week of waiting, what else was there he could do?

If there was a chance that publicly pressuring the Pritzker administration would get Jones "his [expletive, expletive] money," he was all in.

I told Jones to call his state representative. He wasn't sure who that was. So he went on the hunt to find out. A friend from Little League connected Jones with Raquel Chavez, who had gone through her own struggles to get unemployment after getting laid off from her job as a construction project manager in January.

Chavez told a friend, who had ties to Pritzker's administration, about Jones' troubles.

On the insider's recommendation, Chavez reached out to state Rep. Jaime Andrade's office, which is down the street from where Jones lives. "We need help, please!" Chavez wrote on Jones' behalf.

On Chavez's advice, Jones sent a note to House Majority Leader Greg Harris' chief of staff, Kieran Fitzgerald: "Sorry for the email, but I'm desperate, so I'm reaching out to any email address I can find." He recounted the details of his plight and begged for help.

"Please, please, please can you forward this to someone that can help me?" Jones wrote.

He told anyone who got back to him that a certain reporter was typing up a column about his tale of financial woe due to the state's incompetent unemployment system.

And when I talked to Jones on Thursday morning, he was feeling optimistic.

"I went from being f----- to having an IDES rep to call tomorrow," he said. "Hopefully, I'll get paid this week."

A staffer in Andrade's office responded asking for additional details about Jones' pending unemployment claim.

And Harris' chief of staff sent a note saying Jones' case had been forwarded to the majority leader's IDES "liaison."

"He's dealing with a lot of requests right now, so I'm not exactly sure when the caseworker will call you, but I do know they will call," Fitzgerald wrote. "I'll keep pushing on my end to make sure you're contacted as soon as possible."

Then, it happened. Someone from the state employment services department called Jones' ex-wife, promising to call back with more details Thursday afternoon.

Whether he got that call due to clout or a coincidence doesn't matter much.

Jones didn't get a call back on Thursday, leaving him in the same position he was a month and a week ago: Waiting for somebody at the state to call, and help him.

All the rigmarole, it's just so — Chicago, Jones said.

"Think about it — I had to know somebody who knew somebody that knew somebody else to get somebody to call me back," Jones said.

"Even if it works out, and I get my money, all this shows the inefficiency of the whole system."

And how folks like Jones suffer the consequences of Illinois' ineptitude.

Mark Konkol, recipient of the 2011 Pulitzer Prize for local reporting, wrote and produced the Peabody Award-winning series, "Time: The Kalief Browder Story." He was a producer, writer and narrator for the "Chicagoland" docu-series on CNN, and a consulting producer on the Showtime documentary, "16 Shots."

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