You’ve probably heard the name. Or maybe you’ve just seen the headlines about "YDC" and wondered why New Hampshire can't seem to figure out what to do with a single building in Manchester. The Sununu Youth Services Center isn't just a facility. It’s a lightning rod for controversy, a massive legal headache, and frankly, a symbol of a juvenile justice system that’s been broken for decades.
It's complicated.
Most people know it as the Youth Development Center, or YDC. It sits on a prime piece of real estate in Manchester, but the history inside those walls is anything but "prime." We’re talking about a facility designed to hold over 100 kids that now often houses fewer than a dozen. It costs taxpayers a fortune to keep the lights on, yet the state has struggled for years to actually close it down. Why? Because when you’re dealing with the intersection of traumatic history, billion-dollar lawsuits, and the literal safety of the community, nothing is ever simple.
What is the Sununu Youth Services Center, Honestly?
Basically, it’s New Hampshire’s only secure detention and treatment facility for adjudicated delinquents. Think of it as the "end of the line" for kids in the justice system. It’s managed by the Department of Health and Human Services (DHHS). While the name changed in the 1990s to honor former Governor John H. Sununu, the old "YDC" moniker stuck, mostly because the ghosts of the past are hard to rename.
The facility is huge. It's an aging, institutional campus that feels more like a prison than a treatment center. That's a problem. Modern juvenile justice philosophy suggests that kids do better in small, home-like environments. Placing a 15-year-old in a massive, echoing brick complex is widely considered a recipe for failure.
The Numbers are Mind-Boggling
If you looked at the budget, you'd think the place was a luxury resort. It's not. It's just wildly inefficient.
For years, the population at the Sununu Youth Services Center has plummeted. We’re talking about a facility built for 144 residents that sometimes has six or seven kids living there. Yet, you still need 24/7 security. You still need a full kitchen staff. You still need counselors, teachers, and maintenance crews to keep a massive boiler system from exploding in the winter.
When you divide the annual operating budget by the number of kids, the "cost per bed" has occasionally soared to over $500,000 or even $1 million per year. It’s astronomical. Legislators have been screaming about this for years, but building a replacement takes time, and you can't exactly just let the kids go.
The Dark History: Why the Lawsuits Matter
We have to talk about the elephant in the room. The Sununu Youth Services Center is currently at the center of the largest sexual abuse scandal in New Hampshire history.
More than 1,000 former residents have come forward. They allege horrific physical and sexual abuse spanning from the 1960s all the way through the 2000s. It wasn't just one "bad apple" staff member. The lawsuits describe a systemic culture of violence where kids were allegedly beaten, raped, and kept in solitary confinement as a matter of course.
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The state is currently facing a massive financial settlement process.
- The state set up a $100 million settlement fund to try to avoid years of litigation.
- The first major trial involving David Meehan, a former resident, resulted in a $38 million verdict (though later capped by state law).
- Hundreds of other cases are still pending.
This history colors every single conversation about the facility. You can't just talk about "renovating" the place. For the victims, the building itself is a monument to trauma. That's why the push to demolish it and start over is so intense.
The Struggle to Close the Doors
The New Hampshire legislature actually passed a law to close the Sununu Youth Services Center by March 2023.
Guess what? It’s 2026, and the saga is still dragging on.
The delay mostly comes down to the "Where do they go?" problem. You can't just put high-risk youth in a standard foster home. Some of these kids have committed serious violent crimes. They need a "secure" setting. But the state has struggled to find a town willing to host a new, smaller facility. Nobody wants a youth prison in their backyard, even if you call it a "therapeutic residential center."
The New Plan: A Smaller Footprint
The current plan involves building a much smaller, 12-to-18-bed facility. This new spot is supposed to be "trauma-informed."
- Less razor wire, more windows.
- Focus on mental health rather than just "doing time."
- Located closer to services and families.
But construction takes forever. Supply chain issues, labor shortages, and NIMBY (Not In My Backyard) protests have pushed the timeline back repeatedly. In the meantime, the state is stuck maintaining the massive Manchester campus. It’s like keeping a 50-room mansion open just because you have one guest who refuses to leave.
What Most People Get Wrong About Juvenile Justice
People often think these kids are just "punished" at the Sununu Youth Services Center. In reality, the law requires the state to provide "treatment."
These kids usually have incredibly high ACE scores (Adverse Childhood Experiences). We’re talking about histories of neglect, abuse at home, and substance misuse. When they end up at the center, they are supposed to receive intensive therapy and schooling.
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The problem is that it's hard to provide a "therapeutic" environment in a place that looks like a dungeon. If you want a kid to stop acting like a criminal, you probably shouldn't treat them like a hardened convict from day one. That's the theory, anyway. Critics argue that the state is still failing at this mission because the institutional culture is so hard to break.
Why You Should Care (Even if You Don't Have Kids)
The Sununu Youth Services Center affects you, even if you’ve never stepped foot in Manchester.
First, there's the money. Your tax dollars are paying for those $1 million-a-year beds. They’re also paying for the legal defense of the state and the eventual settlements for victims. We’re talking about hundreds of millions of dollars that could be going to schools, roads, or mental health services in your own town.
Second, there’s public safety. If the state doesn't get the "treatment" part right, these kids don't just disappear. They grow up. They become adults who are either productive members of society or people who cycle in and out of the state prison in Concord. Getting it right at the youth level is basically the only way to stop the "cradle to prison" pipeline.
The Reality of Staffing
Working at the center is a brutal job.
Staffing shortages have plagued the facility for years. When you have a "lame duck" building that everyone knows is closing eventually, it’s hard to recruit top-tier talent. Who wants to start a career at a place that’s literally scheduled for demolition?
This leads to a vicious cycle:
- Not enough staff means more overtime.
- More overtime means burnt-out workers.
- Burnt-out workers are more likely to make mistakes or use improper force.
- Mistakes lead to more lawsuits and bad press.
- Bad press makes it harder to hire people.
It's a mess.
What Really Happened With the $100 Million Fund?
The state tried to do something "right" by creating a settlement fund. The idea was to give victims a way to get some level of justice without having to spend five years in court and testify about their trauma in front of a jury.
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But it hasn't been smooth.
Many victims feel the caps on the money are too low. If someone was abused for years, is a $150,000 check enough? Most would say no. On the flip side, the state is trying to balance its books. It’s a cold, calculated legal maneuver that often leaves the actual humans involved feeling like an afterthought.
Actionable Insights: Moving Forward
If you’re following this story or live in New Hampshire, there are a few things you can actually do to stay informed and help push for a better system.
1. Track the Legislative Progress
Don't just wait for the nightly news. Check the NH General Court website for bills related to DHHS and "juvenile justice reform." The funding for the new facility is often buried in "capital budget" talks.
2. Support Community-Based Diversion
The best way to close the Sununu Youth Services Center for good is to make sure kids never need to go there. Support local "restorative justice" programs in your school district. These programs catch kids before they commit a felony, often by addressing the root cause of the behavior.
3. Advocate for Transparency
The history of abuse at YDC happened because there was no oversight. Demand that any new facility has an independent ombudsman—someone whose only job is to protect the rights of the kids, not the state.
4. Understand the Property's Future
The land in Manchester where the center sits is incredibly valuable. There is a lot of talk about turning it into housing or a tech park. Keep an eye on the Manchester Planning Board meetings. How that land is used will dictate the future of the city's North End.
The Sununu Youth Services Center isn't going to vanish overnight. It’s a slow-motion car crash that the state is trying to clean up while the car is still moving. Between the lawsuits, the construction delays, and the weight of history, it remains one of the most difficult challenges in New Hampshire government.
Ultimately, the goal isn't just to tear down a building. It's to build a system that actually works for the kids who have nowhere else to go. Whether or not New Hampshire can pull that off is still a very open question.