Sarah may soon have to shut off her telephone, severing the tie to her incarcerated son because she just can't afford to talk anymore.

Each call from her 19-year-old son in the Salt Lake County jail runs Sarah's phone bill up with the collect calls costing more than $3 for each 15-minute chat. Since her son went behind bars in January, Sarah's bill has increased by $60 a month — an amount she's not sure she can continue to pay.

"What do you say? 'Son, don't call me.' I want to keep my phone on so I can keep my son in touch," said Sarah, who works as a janitor for Salt Lake County and whose name has been changed for this article, at her request. "I'm working two jobs now to keep my phone on."

But what irks Sarah even more than her surging phone bill is that Salt Lake County officials are making money every time her son calls home.

County records obtained by the Deseret Morning News reveal the county gets a 45 percent share of revenues generated by Qwest and AT&T for the inmates' collect calls — a commission that adds up to nearly $1 million a year.

"The county provides inmates and says, 'Here's your captive audience that desperately wants to make phone calls,' " said Brian Barnard, an attorney with the Utah Legal Clinic. "I think this is a horrible tax, a horrible way of treating this voiceless constituency."

Barnard has been trying for more than a decade to fight what he calls the "county's kickback" from the two telephone companies, which began in 1996 with a 40 percent commission to the county.

According to county contracts, that profit share to the county fluctuated through the years and settled at 45 percent from Qwest and 43 percent from AT&T. Both contracts expire by 2007.

County receipt records show that percentage translated to more than $2.6 million for the county, from 2002 to 2004, in collect calls made by 2,100 inmates.

Those funds stem from a charge of $3.15 for up to 15 minutes on a local call, Qwest spokesman Vince Hancock said. Long distance rates for inmates start at $2.80 plus 12 cents a minute on weekdays and 10 cents a minute for evenings and weekends.

"A million dollars a year is nice revenue for the county, but not on the backs of poor people," Barnard said. "There's no legitimate reason for it other than this turns out to be a very lucrative income source for the county."

And it's not the inmates who are footing the bill — it's the families, he added.