Do we need Inspector General for Judiciary

WASHINGTON (AP) - Two senior Republicans want to set up an independent watchdog over the federal judiciary to police judges' acceptance of free trips or their possible financial interests with groups that could appear before them in court.

"Such behavior undermines the public's perception of our judicial system and the fairness and respect that are needed to instill confidence in our judiciary," said House Judiciary Committee Chairman James Sensenbrenner, R-Wis.

Sen. Charles Grassley, R-Iowa, said the judiciary's policing of itself "is not up to snuff."

"An inspector general is just the right medicine the federal judiciary needs to ensure it is complying with its own ethical guidelines and to root out potential waste, fraud and abuse," he said.

Sensenbrenner's bill would establish an inspector general to oversee all federal magistrates, district court judges and appeals court judges but not the nine justices on the Supreme Court. Grassley's bill would include them.

Because the Constitution established the nation's highest court and Congress as co-equal branches of government, Sensenbrenner said directing an inspector general to oversee Supreme Court justices could pose constitutional problems.

Both bills would direct Chief Justice John Roberts to appoint an inspector general who would report annually to him and to Congress, establish whistle-blower protections for court employees and recommend changes in laws or regulations affecting the judiciary. The new inspector general also would be directed to report any judicial misconduct to the Justice Department.

Dick Carelli, a spokesman for the federal courts, said Friday that the judiciary already is subject to congressional oversight and has internal mechanisms for policing itself.

Establishing an inspector general responsible to any entity outside the judicial branch, such as Congress, "would be a serious incursion into judicial independence," Carelli said.

The policy-making Judicial Conference of the United States, a 27-judge body whose presiding officer is the chief justice, went on the record in 1996 as "strongly opposing the creation of an IG in the judicial branch."

The Ethics in Government Act requires federal judges to file financial disclosure reports as a check on conflicts of interest. Security risks to federal judges prompted Congress to allow judges to redact, or black out, information that could put them at risk. The redaction authority expired last year. House and Senate members have not agreed on whether to renew it permanently or temporarily.

Sensenbrenner and Grassley said recently disclosed violations of ethics rules show that the judiciary cannot be trusted to police itself.

The Community Rights Counsel, a public interest law firm that represents environmental interests, issued a report Friday saying the number of trips taken by federal judges and paid for by interest groups has increased by about 25 percent since the 1990s.

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The House bill is H.R. 5219. There is no Senate bill number yet.

Should we or shouldn't we

Article published Apr 29, 2006
The invisible Supreme CourtNat HentoffNewspaper Enterprise Association

The justices of our highest court - whose decisions affect millions of Americans for years - continue to oppose the televising of their oral arguments. On April 4, appearing before a House Appropriations subcommittee that oversees the Supreme Court's annual budget, Justice Anthony Kennedy actually raised the specter of Congress violating the separation of powers if it acts on bills to allow the common people to see how the justices decide cases as they question attorneys and argue with each other."We feel very strongly," Justice Kennedy told the committee, "that we have intimate knowledge of the dynamics and the mood of the court, and we think that proposals mandating and directing television in our court are inconsistent with the deference and etiquette that should apply between the branches.

"Etiquette? This is the same Justice Anthony Kennedy who, not long after Sept. 11, admirably went to high schools in several cities to sound out students on how much they knew of the Constitution - their own individual liberties and responsibilities as Americans - because, he said correctly: "The Constitution needs renewal and understanding each generation, or it's not going to last."But before the House subcommittee, Kennedy, dismissing the very notion that students and the rest of us could see the Constitution at work on television, said grandly: "We (justices) teach that . . . in our branch, we are judged by the way we write.

"Does Kennedy really believe that many millions of Americans read the complete opinions of the Supreme Court in print or on the Internet?

I once asked Justice William Brennan what he thought of televising the oral arguments. Unhesitatingly, he said, "Of course." He was very concerned that for too many Americans, the Court's workings are distant and unfamiliar. In one of our conversations, Brennan chastised much of the press for not starting to cover cases important to the public - from their very inception in the lower courts."That way," he said, "when the case gets to us, the issues - and the people involved - will be known."

At least Kennedy, before the House subcommittee, was not as vehement in his opposition to television in oral arguments as Souter was in his previous testimony there, when he pledged famously - or rather, infamously - that if television were allowed in his courtroom, it would be over his dead body.

He obviously doesn't realize - nor does Kennedy - that this magisterial courtroom is not a private condominium. It is our courtroom - for all Americans!

What also angers me is thinking of the organizations - The Bill of Rights Institute; We the People (The Citizen and the Constitution); John Whitehead's Rutherford Institute - and other groups teaching teachers how to bring the Constitution into the lives of students.

How valuable it would be for them to show students the Supreme Court in action.And why couldn't schools around the country wire their assembly halls to see and hear the justices in vigorous conflict about police searches, abortion, warrantless government interception of telephone calls and the Internet?

But Justice Clarence Thomas told the subcommittee that there would be security concerns and "members of the Court who now have some degree of anonymity would lose their anonymity."If he's that concerned about anonymity, maybe he should get another kind of day job._________

Nat Hentoff writes for the Newspaper Enterprise Association.

Florida to Close Boot Camps

April 27, 2006
After Death of a Boy, Florida Moves to Close Its Boot Camps
By CHRISTINE JORDAN SEXTON
Florida lawmakers decided yesterday to close the state's juvenile boot camps. The move comes more than three months after the death of a 14-year-old boy who was beaten by guards at a camp in Bay County.
The death of the boy, Martin Lee Anderson, prompted protests and is still being investigated.
Senate and House negotiators agreed yesterday to eliminate money for the four boot camps in the state. They would be replaced with four Sheriff's Training and Respect programs, in which guards would be prohibited from using psychological intimidation or physical force on offenders unless they were a threat. Physical force was not prohibited at the boot camps.
Under the agreement, which would still require passage by both chambers of the Legislature, the new camps would receive about $11 million in financing, about an additional $17 a day for each child enrolled. Gov. Jeb Bush, a Republican, said he was pleased with the deal and the additional financing.
Senator Frederica Wilson, a Miami Democrat, said that the new program would benefit all the children of Florida and that Martin's death would leave a legacy.
"Martin Lee Anderson will become a figure in the civil rights movement, and maybe he was destined to be," Ms. Wilson said, noting that the boy had the same birthday as the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., for whom he was named.
Martin died on Jan. 6, a day after he entered the boot camp. Guards were videotaped punching and kicking him. The medical examiner for Bay County, Dr. Charles Siebert, ruled after an autopsy that the boy had died of sickle cell trait. But his ruling has been questioned by the boy's family and by Mr. Bush.
A second autopsy has been performed, but the results have not been released.
Last week, Attorney General Charlie Crist sent a letter to the Florida Medical Examiners Commission, asking it to investigate Dr. Siebert for possible negligence involving three autopsies that, Mr. Crist said in his letter, "reportedly contained fundamental flaws."
Mr. Crist, a Republican candidate for governor, did not ask the commission to investigate Martin's autopsy but to focus on others that had come under scrutiny since Dr. Seibert's opinion was released.
Before being placed in the new camp program, an offender would have to undergo psychological and drug screenings. And the proposed law would require that staff members providing direct care complete 200 hours of training on laws relating to child abuse as well as training in emergency procedures.

Copyright 2006 The New York Times Company

Jurors as Questioners

Courts wrestle with jury questions

Some say they bog down, disrupt process in Kentucky
By Jason Rileyjriley@courier-journal.com
The Courier-Journal

They were some of the most pointed questions serial rapist Bryce Bonner was asked when he took the stand during his trial late last month:
"Why did you admit to the rapes to police if you did not do it?"

"Why did you talk to police without first asking for an attorney?"

But they didn't come from the prosecution, defense attorney or the judge -- they came from the jury.

Once silent, jurors in some Jefferson County courtrooms are taking a more active role in criminal and civil trials. Some, however, say that can disrupt the process.

Jurors asked 69 questions during the Bonner trial before convicting him of raping and kidnapping two women and unlawfully imprisoning a third woman and her child. They recommended a sentence of 122 years in prison.

Foreman Penny Thielmeier said the questions helped jurors feel more comfortable about deciding Bonner's fate.

"Not being able to ask those questions would have left a lot of stones unturned," she said.

The questions "helped us prove it beyond a reasonable doubt."

But critics, including some judges, say a slew of questions from the jury can cause difficulties.

"Everybody becomes Perry Mason, and that becomes a problem because all you are doing is answering questions," most of them irrelevant, said Circuit Judge Geoffrey Morris, who doesn't tell jurors they are allowed to ask questions, but doesn't forbid them, either.

Unlike some states, Kentucky allows jurors to take notes and question witnesses in both civil and criminal proceedings, provided they submit the questions in writing to the judge after the prosecution and defense have finished with their questioning.

The judge then decides, with advice from attorneys, whether to allow them.
While five states ban jury questions in criminal trials, the rest leave the decision up to judges.

But most judges choose not to allow them, according to an ongoing study by the National Center for State Courts.

Only 15 percent of judges permitted jurors to write questions for witnesses in criminal trials, based on 8,200 returned questionnaires.

All 13 of Jefferson County's circuit judges say they permit written questions -- but to differing degrees. Some, like Morris and Lisabeth Hughes Abramson, don't encourage it.

Abramson said she once had a trial where one juror asked 40 to 50 questions.
"It slowed (the trial) down tremendously," she said. "And half of the questions were totally irrelevant."
Others, like Judge Judith McDonald-Burkman, who presided over the Bonner trial, tell jurors from the outset that they may question witnesses.
"It's better for a jury to have more information than not," McDonald-Burkman reasoned.
It was beneficial in the Bonner trial, said prosecutor Tom Van De Rostyne.

"On at least two occasions, they asked really good questions that the attorneys didn't ask that were highly relevant and very useful," he said, including one that questioned the defendant's alibi.
Juror questions in the Bonner case ranged from highly technical -- about DNA -- to highly nosey -- why a man in the court was handing notes to the defense attorney. The latter, among others, was rejected by the judge.
That's one of the problems, said defense attorney Steven Schroering.
"When the judge won't answer it, it makes the attorneys appear as if they are hiding something from the jurors," he said. "I don't like them (jury questions). I've never liked them.

"Sometimes they want to be lawyers or judges themselves, and that's not their role. Their role is just to listen to what is presented and make a determination based on that."

Even so, allowing jurors to take notes and ask questions slowly has been catching on around the country.

But the practice has largely been confined to civil trials.
Last summer, the American Bar Association published a list of 19 recommendations intended to promote more jury participation -- including allowing jurors to ask questions in civil trials.
But the bar couldn't agree on whether to push for jury questions in criminal cases because of concerns about slowing the process and turning jurors into lawyers, said Patricia Refo, a Phoenix attorney and chair of the American Jury Project for the bar association.
"I think allowing jurors to ask questions in any case is an important tool we should give to them," Refo said.

"They are being asked to make very important decisions. None of us would want to be put in the position of making an important decision without being able to ask a question."

Reporter Jason Riley can be reached at (502) 582-4727.

DO drugs used in executions cause pain

http://news.findlaw.com Sunday, April 23, 2006 Top U.S. court to consider appeal on last-minute challenges to injection executions By RON WORD Associated Press Writer (AP) - JACKSONVILLE, Florida-Convicted killer Clarence Hill was already strapped to a gurney with IV tubes running into his arms to deliver the lethal injection. The executioner was ready for the order to start the flow of drugs, and witnesses including both his family and relatives of the slain police officer were waiting. But at the last minute, Hill was granted a stay of execution by the U.S. Supreme Court. On Wednesday, the top U.S. court will hear Hill's appeal, using his case to clarify how inmates may bring deadline challenges to the use of lethal injection and whether his challenge can be filed as a civil rights action. How the court rules could decide whether Hill will be executed this summer or whether he will be allowed to challenge Florida's use of lethal injection as cruel and unusual punishment - a ruling that could halt executions in Florida and perhaps elsewhere, at least temporarily. Hill's stay of execution also halted the death of another Florida inmate on the same grounds, and Governor Jeb Bush, a brother of President George W. Bush, said he would not sign any other death warrants until Hill's case is settled. Hill's stay also is directly responsible for execution delays in three more cases in other states, said Rion Dennis, a spokesman for the Death Penalty Information Center in Washington. Carolyn Snurkowski, a death appeals lawyer in the state attorney general's office, will argue that Hill cannot challenge Florida's method of execution through a civil rights action. She also argues he filed his claim against lethal injection too late, since he waited until just before his scheduled execution on Jan. 24. "The fact that it was delayed doesn't make it right now," Snurkowski said. Hill's lawyer, D. Todd Doss, argues that the doses of drugs used in Florida executions can cause pain, in violation of the constitutional protection against cruel and unusual punishment. Hill was convicted of killing Pensacola police Officer Stephen Taylor in 1982. Taylor, 26, and Officer Larry Bailly had gone to investigate a silent alarm at a bank in downtown Pensacola, and caught Hill's partner, Cliff Jackson, outside the bank. As the officers attempted to handcuff Jackson, Hill came up from behind, killing Taylor and wounding Bailly. Hill was shot five times. Jackson was sentenced to life in prison. Bailly, who is retired, did not respond to a request for comment made through the Pensacola Police Department. Hill also has claimed he should not be executed since he is mentally retarded. That argument was rejected by the state Supreme Court, which noted that a mental evaluation showed his IQ was 16 points higher than the standard of 70 or below. Taylor's family is growing weary after 24 years of delays, said his older brother, Jack Taylor. They want Hill dead and they were angry when his execution was halted. "If they want me to, I'd put a bullet in his brain," said Taylor, 61, who lives in Pensacola. "It needs to be done and it needs to be over with," said Linda Knouse, the slain officer's sister. However, a cousin of Taylor, Gary Mace of Key Largo, was not upset the high court took the case. "We are willing to see what the courts have to say. I want the Supreme Court to look at this case and make a judicial decision so others won't have to go through what we went through," Mace said. "It's not going to change anything. Steve will still be dead and is not coming back to us," Mace said. Hill, 48, did not respond to a request for an interview. His relatives, most of whom live in Mobile, Alabama, did not return messages left on their answering machines. "He's concerned," Doss said. "His life is at stake. He is not somebody who is an overly emotional person, at least not with me." Copyright 2006 The Associated Press. All rights reserved. Company | Privacy Policy Disclaimer Copyright © 1994-2004FindLaw

Copyright 2006 The Associated Press.

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Copyright © 1994-2004FindLaw

Supreme Court Issues stay on execution drugs grounds

Sunday, April 23, 2006
Top U.S. court to consider appeal on last-minute challenges to injection executions
By RON WORD Associated Press Writer
(AP) - JACKSONVILLE, Florida-Convicted killer Clarence Hill was already strapped to a gurney with IV tubes running into his arms to deliver the lethal injection. The executioner was ready for the order to start the flow of drugs, and witnesses including both his family and relatives of the slain police officer were waiting.
But at the last minute, Hill was granted a stay of execution by the U.S. Supreme Court.

On Wednesday, the top U.S. court will hear Hill's appeal, using his case to clarify how inmates may bring deadline challenges to the use of lethal injection and whether his challenge can be filed as a civil rights action.
How the court rules could decide whether Hill will be executed this summer or whether he will be allowed to challenge Florida's use of lethal injection as cruel and unusual punishment - a ruling that could halt executions in Florida and perhaps elsewhere, at least temporarily.
Hill's stay of execution also halted the death of another Florida inmate on the same grounds, and Governor Jeb Bush, a brother of President George W. Bush, said he would not sign any other death warrants until Hill's case is settled.
Hill's stay also is directly responsible for execution delays in three more cases in other states, said Rion Dennis, a spokesman for the Death Penalty Information Center in Washington.
Carolyn Snurkowski, a death appeals lawyer in the state attorney general's office, will argue that Hill cannot challenge Florida's method of execution through a civil rights action. She also argues he filed his claim against lethal injection too late, since he waited until just before his scheduled execution on Jan. 24.
"The fact that it was delayed doesn't make it right now," Snurkowski said.
Hill's lawyer, D. Todd Doss, argues that the doses of drugs used in Florida executions can cause pain, in violation of the constitutional protection against cruel and unusual punishment.
Hill was convicted of killing Pensacola police Officer Stephen Taylor in 1982.
Taylor, 26, and Officer Larry Bailly had gone to investigate a silent alarm at a bank in downtown Pensacola, and caught Hill's partner, Cliff Jackson, outside the bank. As the officers attempted to handcuff Jackson, Hill came up from behind, killing Taylor and wounding Bailly. Hill was shot five times. Jackson was sentenced to life in prison.
Bailly, who is retired, did not respond to a request for comment made through the Pensacola Police Department.
Hill also has claimed he should not be executed since he is mentally retarded. That argument was rejected by the state Supreme Court, which noted that a mental evaluation showed his IQ was 16 points higher than the standard of 70 or below.
Taylor's family is growing weary after 24 years of delays, said his older brother, Jack Taylor. They want Hill dead and they were angry when his execution was halted.
"If they want me to, I'd put a bullet in his brain," said Taylor, 61, who lives in Pensacola.
"It needs to be done and it needs to be over with," said Linda Knouse, the slain officer's sister.
However, a cousin of Taylor, Gary Mace of Key Largo, was not upset the high court took the case.
"We are willing to see what the courts have to say. I want the Supreme Court to look at this case and make a judicial decision so others won't have to go through what we went through," Mace said.
"It's not going to change anything. Steve will still be dead and is not coming back to us," Mace said.
Hill, 48, did not respond to a request for an interview. His relatives, most of whom live in Mobile, Alabama, did not return messages left on their answering machines.
"He's concerned," Doss said. "His life is at stake. He is not somebody who is an overly emotional person, at least not with me."

Copyright 2006 The Associated Press.
Copyright © 1994-2004FindLaw

Lineups- Error Prone

from the April 24, 2006 edition - http://www.csmonitor.com/2006/0424/p01s04-usju.html In police lineups, is the method the suspect? By Amanda Paulson and Sara Miller Llana | Staff writers of The Christian Science Monitor CHICAGO AND BOSTON - A police lineup is often the moment of truth in a criminal investigation. It's also, say many experts, highly fallible. Of the 175 convictions overturned by DNA evidence, 75 percent were convicted largely because of eyewitness testimony that turned out to be mistaken. Those exonerations have energized efforts to reform the way police conduct lineups and get eyewitness identifications. A growing number of counties and states are adopting measures to improve accuracy and limit influences on witness memory. Now, though, a first-of-its-kind study from Illinois is casting doubt on a reform called "sequential double-blind." That method shows witnesses photos of potential suspects one at a time, rather than all at once, and even the administrator doesn't know who the suspect is. The study's results - which suggest the old method was both more accurate and more likely to produce an identification - are a boost to police departments that have resisted lineup changes. Others say the study was flawed, and they worry that it will be used as an excuse to halt all eyewitness-identification reforms. For now, supporters say more study - and more action - is needed, and they hope that a single study won't derail years of effort to improve what they say is a highly flawed system. "My fear is that the debate over sequential blind will obscure everything, and you'll have police departments who are reluctant to change at all, or not adopt anything," says Barry Scheck, a professor at Yeshiva University's Cardozo School of Law in New York and co-director of the Innocence Project. Eyewitness reliability is often a hot- button issue, especially in sexual assault cases. Just last week, it arose in the Duke University case in which a stripper has said she was raped by several lacrosse players. She picked two out of a photo lineup, but critics faulted the lineup for containing no fillers, only lacrosse players, likening it to a multiple choice test with no wrong answers. The Illinois study focused only on the question whether to do sequential blind lineups, a switch that just a handful of jurisdictions have mandated so far. Commissions in North Carolina, Wisconsin, Virginia, and California have recommended that approach, and other jurisdictions are considering it. Many are reviewing the Illinois study closely. The study took place in three districts: Chicago, Evanston, and Joliet. During the course of a year, police compared the number of times a witness picked out the suspect using the traditional method - in which photos were shown simultaneously, and the administrator might know which is the suspect - with the new one. Until now, research has shown that the sequential method sets a higher bar for accuracy: the witness compares the photo or person to his memory, rather than to the others in the lineup. Using administrators who are "blind" minimizes the risk that they will convey conscious or unconscious approval once the witness makes his pick - an action that could solidify a formerly hazy memory. It's a more conservative approach that results in fewer overall identifications, and has raised debate about whether it's better to get more guilty people off the street or avoid a false conviction. "It's a policy decision on how cautious we want our witnesses to be," says Gary Wells, a psychology professor at Iowa State University who has conducted more than 100 experiments on witness memory. So researchers weren't surprised that sequential lineups in the Illinois pilot showed a lower rate of overall identifications: Witnesses made IDs in 53 percent of lineups, versus 62 percent for simultaneous ones. But the sequential lineups also had a lower rate of accuracy. Witnesses picked out an innocent person 9 percent of the time, compared to a 3 percent rate for simultaneous ones. At a Chicago symposium Friday, academics, police, prosecutors, and defense attorneys from around the country heatedly discussed the study and the future of identification practices. Some reform advocates faulted the study for using a blind administrator with the sequential lineups, but not with the simultaneous ones. "The resistance to the study [from reform advocates] is greater than any resistance from police to trying the sequential double-blind," says Sheri Mecklenburg, director of the pilot program and a general counsel in the Chicago Police Department. "It seems to be a results-driven criticism." Logistical reasons have kept many cities from trying the new method. Finding a separate administrator isn't always feasible, police say, and dedicating people to administering lineups uses resources that could be better spent getting more police on the street. Some also worry about the fewer number of IDs they get with sequential lineups. But reform advocates stress that many other, less controversial changes can also make a big difference: finding "filler" candidates who closely resemble the witness's description, for instance, or telling the witness that the suspect is not necessarily in the lineup. They want witnesses to provide "confidence statements," stating how sure they are of the ID. And they want juries informed about the fallibility of eyewitness testimony, especially across racial lines. Police departments in Wisconsin have been more receptive to such reforms because the state has made them voluntary. "Any time you mandate something, you're going to have more resistance to it," says Ken Hammond, the state's law enforcement education director. Boston switched to the sequential method in 2004, after a series of wrongful convictions that involved mistaken eyewitness identification made headlines. Changing to the new model was time-consuming, says David Procopio, press secretary for the Suffolk County district attorney's office, but worth it - an opinion the Illinois study hasn't changed. "We don't believe one part of one study in one state is reason enough to roll back what we consider to be very progressive reforms based on very wide-ranging scientific studies that occurred over a period of many years," Mr. Procopio says. Experts cite many reasons for faulty witness identification. There's often a desire on the part of a victim to see the person responsible put behind bars. They want to be able to make an identification, and memories can alter accordingly. Even critics of the sequential lineup suggest that other measures might help improve accuracy. Conducting multiple lineups, some of which have no suspect, might weed out those witnesses who are too willing to pick anybody, says Ebbe Ebbesen, a psychology professor at the University of San Diego in California who says that districts were premature in switching to sequential blind lineups. Even if most eyewitness identifications are reliable, "we know it is accounting for more wrongful convictions than all the other causes put together," including false confessions, jailhouse "snitches," and outright fraud, says Professor Wells. "When a witness takes the stand and says, 'that's the guy I saw,' that is so persuasive. We need to find ways to prevent mistaken IDs from happening in the first place." Full HTML version of this story which may include photos, graphics, and related links Copyright © 2006 The Christian Science Monitor.

Was the execution warranted -- it took place 130 years aago

Reviewing a trial, 13 decades later: State officials must decide if John Donahoe received a fair tri...

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Apr 16, 2006 - Reading Eagle, Pa.
Author(s): Mike Urban

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Apr. 16--John Donahoe's life ended on the gallows of the old Carbon County Prison nearly 130 years ago, but the debate over the fairness of his 1876 trial is very much alive.

The state Board of Pardons is considering whether to recommend that Gov. Ed Rendell grant Donahoe a posthumous pardon.

"Yellow Jack" Donahoe was one of 20 men executed in northeast Pennsylvania's hard coal region in the late 1870s, all purported members of a secret society known as the Molly Maguires. The group was named after an Irish woman, possibly fictional, who Irish said led reprisals against landlords for dis placing Irish people from hous ing in Ireland in the early and mid-19th century.

The 20 were convicted of killing mine and railroad com pany employees in an effort to force labor reform in the an thracite coal fields.

But many think the trials were rigged by the mining and railroad barons to quash a budding labor movement.

That belief prompted Donahoe's great-great granddaughter, Margaret Juran of Halifax, Dauphin County, to apply for Donahoe's pardon last year.

The board heard arguments March 2 and will meet again May 18. If there is a unanimous vote to recommend a pardon, Rendell will make the final decision.

There has been only one posthumous pardon in Pennsylvania, granted in 1976 by Gov. Milton Shapp to John J. Kehoe, an accused Molly Maguire who was hanged in 1877 after being convicted of killing mine foreman Frank W.S. Langdon.

Donahoe, of Tuscarora, Schuylkill County, was found guilty in 1876 of shooting mine boss Morgan Powell to death in Summit Hill, Carbon County, in 1871. He was hanged in 1877 with nine other men who authorities said were Molly Maguires.

Donahoe should be pardoned because he was denied due process, according to Juran's attorney, Grainger C. Bowman of Harrisburg.

Just as discrimination long robbed America's women of the right to vote and forced blacks to the back of buses, it brought about Donahoe's hanging, Bowman told the board. The execution is a blight on the nation's labor history, he said.

It was the coal and railroad barons -- not the state -- who led the investigation and prosecution, he said.

In the five years between Powell's murder and Donahoe's conviction, the prosecution extorted and coerced witnesses into incriminating Donahoe, Bowman said.

The local newspapers further inflamed the public against the Molly Maguires and those said to be members, and the jury contained no Irishmen but several immigrants who spoke little or no English, he said.

Bowman did not take a stance on whether Donahoe was innocent or guilty, only that he was unjustly convicted.

Juran, however, believes Donahoe did not kill Powell.

"There wasn't enough evidence to prove he was guilty beyond a reasonable doubt," she said. "The whole trial was a staged event, and it's a shame my great-great grandfather was hanged for it."

Carbon County District Attorney Gary Dobias opposes the pardon request.

Dobias, like Bowman, researched the case by reading hand-written trial transcripts, dusty court documents and old newspaper accounts. He found no evidence of a biased jury.

He conceded there was much prejudice toward the Irish in the anthracite region, but he said it didn't taint the trial.

Dobias feels a pardon could open the floodgates to others who were convicted long ago being wrongly pardoned.

Dobias is aware of the community's pro-Irish sentiment today. But Dobias said he cannot take those feelings into consideration. Donahoe should only be pardoned if the facts warrant it, he said.

The conviction withstood appeals up to the state Supreme Court, he pointed out.

Seven of Powell's direct descendants submitted affidavits calling for Donahoe's pardon.

But Powell's great-granddaughter, Barbara Garland of Summerville, South Carolina, and her son, Thomas Garland, think the trial was fair and the verdict, proper.

Thomas Garland told the board he feels for those who endured prejudice and had to work in unsafe conditions for slave wages. But that does not excuse the crime, he said.

"The facts in this case demand a guilty verdict in the 19th, 20th or 21st century," he said.

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© Copyright 2006 NetContent, Inc.

Does what we eat relate to behavior?

April 16, 2006

Idea Lab

Does Eating Salmon Lower the Murder Rate?

By STEPHEN MIHM

Most prisons are notorious for the quality of their cuisine (pretty poor) and the behavior of their residents (pretty violent). They are therefore ideal locations to test a novel hypothesis: that violent aggression is largely a product of poor nutrition. Toward that end, researchers are studying whether inmates become less violent when put on a diet rich in vitamins and in the fatty acids found in seafood.

Could a salmon steak and a side of spinach really help curb violence, not just in prison but everywhere? In 2001, Dr. Joseph Hibbeln, a senior clinical investigator at the National Institutes of Health, published a study, provocatively titled "Seafood Consumption and Homicide Mortality," that found a correlation between a higher intake of omega-3 fatty acids (most often obtained from fish) and lower murder rates.

Of course, seeing a correlation between fatty acids and nonviolence doesn't necessarily prove that fatty acids inhibit violence. Bernard Gesch, a senior research scientist at Oxford University, set out to show that better nutrition does, in fact, decrease violence. He enrolled 231 volunteers at a British prison in his study; one-half received a placebo, while the other half received fatty acids and other supplements. Over time, the antisocial behavior (as measured by assaults and other violations) of the inmates who had been given the supplements dropped by more than a third relative to their previous records. The control group showed little change. Gesch published his results in 2002 and plans to start a larger study later this year. Similar trials are already under way in Holland and Norway.

What would it mean if we found a clear link between diet and violent behavior? To start with, it might challenge the notion that violence is a product of free will. "But how do you exercise that free will without using your brain?" Gesch asks. "And how, exactly, is the brain going to work properly without an adequate nutrient supply?" The belief that people choose to be violent may be irrelevant if the brain isn't firing on all cylinders. This may especially be the case for impulsive acts of violence, which are less a choice than a failure to rein in one's worst instincts.

Consider, for example, a study conducted by researchers in Finland. They tested prisoners convicted of violent crimes and found that they had lower levels of omega-3 fatty acids than ordinary, healthy subjects. Why? Omega-3's foster the growth of neurons in the brain's frontal cortex, the bit of gray matter that controls impulsive behavior. Having enough of these fatty acids may keep violent impulses in check. Violent criminals may not be the only ones who would benefit from more fatty acids in their diet. In a recent double-blind trial, when omega-3's were given to people with a history of substance abuse, the symptoms of "anger" fell by 50 percent.

Of course, omega-3's are widely hailed these days as a miracle substance, credited with boosting health in dozens of ways. But Gesch warns against what he calls "silver bullets." The state of the evidence, he says, "doesn't allow us to pinpoint which dietary fat is responsible for changes in behavior." In his new study, he will look into whether several interdependent nutrients may play a role.

Gesch further adds that we shouldn't expect nutrition alone to banish violent behavior. "The brain needs to be nourished in two ways. It needs to be educated, and it needs nutrients. Both social and physical factors are important." Simply throwing fish and vegetables at violent criminals is unlikely to have a lasting effect on its own.

Caveats aside, there's something that many people may find unnerving about the idea of curing violent behavior by changing what people eat. It threatens to let criminals evade responsibility for their actions. Think, for example, of the infamous "Twinkie defense," in which an accused murderer's lawyer suggested that junk food was partly to blame for his client's compromised mental state. More controversial, perhaps, is the brave-new-world idea of using diet to enforce docility and conformity to the rules, a sort of state-sponsored version of that timeless parental demand to children everywhere: "Eat your vegetables."

Then again, we already live in a society in which parents have resorted to drugs like Ritalin to quell unwanted outbursts and impulsive behavior. And when you approach it from that perspective, changing what people eat may not be so radical after all.

Stephen Mihm teaches history at the University of Georgia.
2006 The New York Times Company

Disasters and the Justice System

In New Orleans, Justice on Trial
Katrina Strains Public Defender's Office

By Peter Whoriskey
Washington Post Staff Writer
Saturday, April 15, 2006; A01

NEW ORLEANS -- Every week or so here, the chief criminal court judge and his staff discover someone in jail who shouldn't be.

For the most part, Chief District Judge Calvin Johnson said, they are indigent defendants who were arrested on misdemeanor charges just before or after Hurricane Katrina hit Aug. 29. They often lack attorneys and their cases get "lost" in the system, he said, leaving the accused to serve weeks or months of extra incarceration.

Around the courthouse, it's known as "doing Katrina time."
"We're still finding people -- they bubble up weekly," Johnson said, noting that he releases them. "We can't have people in jail indeterminately."

The flooding after Katrina robbed thousands of people of their homes, drinking water and other essentials. But it has also deprived many others of another fundamental: the right to legal representation.

The criminal justice system here is besieged on all sides. The evidence room was flooded with several feet of water. Witnesses, like half the population, are scattered all over the country. The district court's 13 judges are restricted to holding court in two federal courtrooms available only four days a week. No criminal jury trials have been held since the storm.

But what may be raising the most troubling constitutional issues, according to judges, prosecutors and defense lawyers, is the underfunded public defender system, which is required by law to provide indigent defendants with legal representation.

It is now at the center of a high-stakes constitutional standoff.

District Judge Arthur Hunter, a former street cop, has announced that he is suspending the prosecution of cases in which the defendants are represented by the public defender's office -- that is, he says, until Louisiana appropriates enough money to allow public defenders to put on a competent defense.

Without action from the state legislature, he indicated, he may soon have to consider releasing those defendants. (Last week, lawyers began seeking the release of more than 15 of them.) "It's beyond the question of whether these defendants have effective counsel -- it's a question of whether they have attorneys at all," Hunter said.

Even before the hurricane, Louisiana's system for indigent defendants had been considered woefully inadequate, according to a report from the National Legal Aid & Defender Association and the National Association of Criminal Defense Lawyers. There isn't enough money for the program, according to the report, leaving public defenders in one parish to handle six times the normal full-time caseload -- while working part time.

About 80 percent of defendants in New Orleans are supposed to be represented by the public defender's office. Supported largely by traffic court fines and fees -- which evaporated after Katrina -- the office shrank from 42 lawyers to 10 afterward.

With more than a thousand clients still spread out across the state in parish prisons because of damage to the Orleans Parish jail, the chief public defender said the office has not been able to meet with all it is expected to represent.

"We don't have the time or the manpower to go out to each of those facilities to speak to each of our clients," the city's chief public defender, Tilden Greenbaum, testified in Hunter's court in February, when the judge was trying to determine whether the public defender's office could offer effective assistance to the city's indigent.

The public defender program received a short-term spurt of money, but Hunter has deemed that an insufficient fix.

Meanwhile, no one knows exactly how many defendants are serving or have served "Katrina time."

District Attorney Eddie Jordan minimized the issue, saying that prosecutors have done everything possible to ensure that "there's no one in jail who should not be in jail."

But he conceded that because of complications caused by the storm, some "could very well have slipped through the cracks."

According to Johnson -- as well as defense lawyers and law students who have volunteered to represent the indigent -- some defendants have been kept in jail even after charges were dropped. Others have been kept in jail awaiting trial longer than the maximum possible sentence, and still others were being held in jail after being sentenced to a boot camp that is no longer in operation.

Last month, Johnson's assistant, Shannon Sims, discovered that a woman charged on Aug. 25 with prostitution was still in jail -- having served seven months awaiting trial on a charge for which the maximum sentence is six months. She was released.

"That case certainly was unfortunate," said Donna Andrieu, chief of appeals for the district attorney's office. She noted that "we have been actively reviewing our files so that we can avoid having anyone's constitutional rights violated."

Another defendant, Greg Davis, 50, was held in prison from before Katrina until last month for failing to pay $448 in court fines, which stemmed from a misdemeanor drug paraphernalia charge, according to court records. He was released last month. He had been picked up on a burglary charges, but although those were soon dropped, he stayed in jail because of the fines.

"He was basically like, 'Things can't get any worse.' He had no idea why he was still in there," said Sarah Turberville, one of a group of Tulane University law students who visited Davis and presented his case, in the absence of a public defender, to a judge. "He needed someone to plead his case."

Pamela Metzger, director of the Tulane Law Clinic, has in recent months sent students out to parish prisons around the state where New Orleans defendants are held.

They have interviewed about 60, she said, and of those only one or two had seen a lawyer or a judge since the storm.

"I understand that Hurricane Katrina upset everyone's lives," Metzger said. "But as far as I know, there are no disaster exemptions to a person's constitutional rights."

© 2006 The Washington Post Company

Gang Members and the Internet

Gangs in Md. Throw Rivals A Cyberpunch

Members Use Web to Brag And Warn Foes;

Police Use The Sites to Track Them
By Allison KleinWashington Post Staff Writer

Friday, April 14, 2006; B01

The threat from the Washington area gang Street Thug Criminals was very clear: "We swore we were going to get the *bleep* that did this and we are. RIP Antonio."
It was delivered the way almost everything seems to be these days: on a Web page.
The Street Thug Criminals have an Internet page, and they used it to warn a rival Langley Park gang that Antonio's death would be avenged.
Police call it "cyberbanging" -- gang members openly bragging about affiliations, skipping school, getting high and battling rival gangs.
Many postings deal with Mara Salvatrucha, or MS-13, a Latino gang that has been spreading quickly across the Washington region in recent years.
There is no way to know for certain whether these cyberbangers are gang members, but it's not likely that they are phonies, said Sgt. George Norris, a Prince George's County police officer who heads a 16-member regional gang task force.
"If you portray yourself as being MS-13 and you're not, when they find out about it, they kill you just as if you're a rival gang member," Norris said.
Prince George's police and other investigators use the sites to track the growing gang problem and to catalog members.
Most cyberbangers on Web pages examined by The Washington Post are teenagers and design their pages to flash in-your-face images of gang flags, hand signs, marijuana, women, stacks of cash and "original gangster" scrolls certifying them as legitimate. Some show pictures of themselves with guns and bandannas covering their faces below the eyes, casting menacing glances.
The sites use the members' nicknames and rarely refer to legal names. The pages are legal; it is not against the law to be in a gang.
"Barney," a 15-year-old from Langley Park, says he likes fashion, video games and basketball. According to his page, he is into photography, does not have a girlfriend -- and is a member of two violent street gangs, the Lewisdale Crew and Brown Union.
The gangs, better known the LDC and BU, are bitter rivals of MS-13's.
"WAT UP PEOLPE THIZ BE YOUR BOY BARNEY REPPIEN THAT LDC AND BU," Barney writes at the top of his page. "ONE THING I DON'T LIKE IS MS AND HATERZ SO IF U A HATER GET DU [EXPLETIVE] OUT OK."
For those who need a translation, Barney writes that he is "representing" that he is a member of the LDC and BU and orders any MS members to leave his page.
On many of the sites, gang members give their age and mention that they attend High Point, Bladensburg or other local high schools.
Some guesswork is involved in deciphering the slang, misspellings and gang speak.
"Boy" is generally spelled "boi," "girls" is spelled "gurlz," Maryland is usually "Murderland." The codes extend to ages as well. A 15-year-old, for example, may write that he is 1 gun 5 bullets or 1 joint 5 hits.
Often when people are reading a page, their cursor will turn into a handgun, forcing them to "shoot" something to click on it. At other times, cursors turn into smoking cigarettes or sports cars.
Police said that because they cannot stop the sites, they use them to gather intelligence. A page for Vatos Locos, a gang known for violence, has an RIP for someone named Noel.
It reads: "Somebody will pay what they did to you cuz what goes around comes around."
The sites also offer a public glimpse into the lives and personalities of some of the area's gang members: On "Yoshi's" site, his gang affiliation is posted next to pictures of his baby nephew, Christopher. "Krazy Yayo," who represents Sur 13, writes of growing up on the streets and killing without mercy. He ends with "click, click bang, bang."
Last year, at least eight homicides in Prince George's were gang-related, police said.
According to police, members affiliated with these local gangs are responsible for low-level crimes such as graffiti as well as robberies, stabbings and shootings.
Gang members create Web pages as another way to seek respect and validation, said Luis Cardona, a former gang member who is now the youth violence prevention coordinator for the Montgomery County Department of Health and Human Services.
"You're looking to get some kind of recognition or affirmation," he said. "And there's a certain level of solidarity for gang members who might be in a different location."
Norris said the department doesn't know how many gang members are in the county or the region. He said he has documented 1,300 members and their associates in Prince George's. The Web pages have led to several arrests.
In one case, a series of robberies had occurred in Langley Park and Adelphi, and police received a tip about who was pulling them. But the tip was just a nickname. So they went to the gang Web pages to find the nickname. Once they found it, they knew whom he was hanging out with and where they could find him. The youth was arrested.
A majority of the documented gang members live in Police District 1, which includes Langley Park, the hub for gang activity in the region, Norris said. Gang activity is also notable in other parts of Prince George's, Montgomery County, Washington and Northern Virginia.
According to a study from 2002-03 conducted by the Washington-based National Youth Gang Center, there are 731,500 youth gang members across the country.
Beefing that starts on the Internet will sometimes turn into face-to-face confrontations and spill blood, Norris said.
"When they see each other on the street, they're in person," Norris said. "It's a natural progression."
According to the 2005 National Gang Threat Assessment by the National Alliance of Gang Investigators Associations, gang members are increasingly computer savvy.
"Web sites often include photos of members, tattoos and gang hand signs," reads the report. "Sites may also have bulletin boards, message boards or chat rooms where members can post messages or 'shout outs' to identify cliques or chapters of the gangs in various cities."
The Web pages can be found on free sites such as myspace.com, blackplanet.com, which is targeted at black users, and migente.com, aimed at English-speaking Hispanics.
The sites are online communities for dating, news, job searches and chatting. Although the sites are open to the public, users must first register with them to view members' pages.
Of the three, the gang pages are most prevalent on migente.com, which began in 2000 and is Spanish for "my people."
Jeffrey Carr, vice president of marketing for Community Connect, which runs blackplanet.com and migente.com, said he is aware that some gangs and gang members use the sites. He said a routine screening process searches for inappropriate language and pictures and shuts down pages that have them.
"We address issues as quickly as they come up," Carr said. "We address them immediately. We are conscious of the situation going on."
Police investigators, mostly in California, started seeing gang members on the Web in the late 1990s. The activity has slowly spread to the point that gang members have Web pages, said Jared Lewis, director and founder of the Wisconsin-based Know Gangs, a gang-consulting group for police agencies.
Lewis, a former gang unit police officer in California, said "it's more common than parents realize" for youths to openly express their gang lifestyle. He said he will frequently see pictures of middle school students in front of their schools throwing gang signs.
"Ten years ago, the average gangster wasn't involved with the Internet," Lewis said. "Computers are everywhere now -- in schools, libraries. It's not unusual for the hard-core gang member to be out all day and come home and play on the Internet at night."
© 2006 The Washington Post Company

Meds Required Before Execution

Forced medication ordered for Death Row inmate
Judge rules Death Row inmate must take anti-psychotic drugs
By MELODY McDONALD
STAR-TELEGRAM STAFF WRITER

FORT WORTH -- Death Row inmate Steven Kenneth Staley, convicted for killing the manager of a Steak and Ale nearly 17 years ago, should be physically forced to take anti-psychotic medication -- an order that, in essence, could make Staley competent enough to be executed -- a judge ruled Tuesday.

Judge Wayne Salvant's decision came nearly two months after he stopped Staley's execution, ruling that Staley, a paranoid schizophrenic, is too mentally ill.

The law requires that Staley be mentally competent before he is executed.

"The whole idea of holding somebody down and injecting them so that we can then say, with a straight face, this person is now competent so we can kill them, I think that smacks of an Orwellian-Soviet-style approach to criminal justice," said Jack Strickland, Staley's attorney. "Most people, even conservatives, would find that very offensive. It bothers me."

Prosecutors Chuck Mallin and Jim Gibson said they filed the motion to forcibly medicate Staley, who refuses to take his medication, in part to carry out a jury's decision more than a decade ago that Staley should die for his crimes.

"People in this community tend to forget the brutal nature of this crime because it was in 1989, going on 17 years," Mallin said, adding that he believes this may be the first time a Texas judge has ordered an incompetent Death Row inmate to be forcibly medicated.

"I'm not going to apologize for any actions we take."

Staley, 43, was sentenced to death in April 1991 for fatally shooting Robert Read, 35, after taking him hostage during a botched robbery at a Steak and Ale in west Fort Worth.

According to court records and news stories, Staley and two friends, all armed with guns, demanded access to the cash register after eating at the restaurant on Oct. 14, 1989.

As customers and employees huddled at the rear of the restaurant, an assistant manager slipped out and called police.

Police surrounded the restaurant, and Read, the manager, offered himself as a hostage to spare the others. The trio took him up on his offer and held him at gunpoint as they tried to escape.

Read, who was married and had three small children, was fatally shot when he resisted as the robbers tried to force him into a hijacked car.

Last month, just six days before Staley was to be executed, Salvant rescinded Staley's death warrant after two doctors testified that he was incompetent and unable to understand why he has to die.

Last year, Staley came within five hours of execution before an appellate court stopped the punishment for basically the same reason: Staley's mental condition had deteriorated so much that he couldn't comprehend his punishment.

During the hearing in Salvant's court Tuesday, Staley, seated at the defense table, picked at his unruly hair and red jumpsuit and could be heard mumbling nonsensical phrases.

At one point, he put his handcuffed hands on the back of his head and said something that sounded like "Whoop! Tootie fruity. Want to go back to my cell now."

Staley was recently brought back to the Tarrant County Jail from Death Row in Livingston for the hearing.

Strickland has said Staley has a long history of mental illness. His mother was a schizophrenic who attempted to stab Staley and his sister with a knife and once tried to pound a wooden stake into Staley's chest.

His father was an alcoholic who was killed in a car accident. His grandfather committed suicide. As a teenager, Staley also attempted suicide, the documents state.

Since Staley was sent to Death Row in 1991, he has been hospitalized nearly 20 times, for as long as nine months, because he is psychotic.

Strickland argued that forcibly medicating Staley to execute him is unconstitutional and violates his right to privacy. He said he is not aware of any case in Texas or in any of the 38 death penalty states where a court has authorized the forcible medication of an incompetent inmate for execution.

Prosecutors Mallin and Gibson reminded the judge that inmates are forcibly medicated all the time in prison. The only difference is they are not on Death Row.

The prosecutors maintained that they had an "essential interest" in carrying out the jury's verdict, that it was medically appropriate to forcibly medicate Staley and that the side effects of the drugs did not outweigh the benefits.

In the end, the judge sided with the state, but the issue is far from over.

Staley will not be forcibly medicated right away.

The judge is giving Strickland time to appeal to a higher court.

Although there is case law on this subject, it is not clear-cut.

In 1986, the U.S. Supreme Court ruled that it was cruel and unusual for states to execute a person who is incapable of understanding what is happening or why. But in 1990, the high court ruled that it was OK to forcibly medicate inmates in certain cases, if the treatment is essential for the defendant's safety or the safety of others.

In 2003, the 8th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals allowed Arkansas officials to forcibly administer anti-psychotic medication to control an inmate's behavior, which, in turn, made him competent enough to execute.

The Supreme Court has not gotten involved in the constitutionality of medicating Death Row inmates to make them competent to be executed.

Richard Dieter, executive director of Death Penalty Information Center in Washington, said that he isn't sure why the Supreme Court hasn't weighed in on the issue but that it doesn't arise often.

Whether the high court will look at Staley's case remains to be seen, but the legal community will be following the case closely.

"It will be watched by the other states and by the Supreme Court," Dieter said. "It's significant because it is an unresolved issue."

---

Melody McDonald, (817) 390-7386 mjmcdonald@star-telegram.com

Meds Needed Before Execution Allowed

Posted on Wed, Apr. 12, 2006
Forced medication ordered for Death Row inmate Judge rules Death Row inmate must take anti-psychotic drugs By MELODY McDONALD STAR-TELEGRAM STAFF WRITER FORT WORTH -- Death Row inmate Steven Kenneth Staley, convicted for killing the manager of a Steak and Ale nearly 17 years ago, should be physically forced to take anti-psychotic medication -- an order that, in essence, could make Staley competent enough to be executed -- a judge ruled Tuesday. Judge Wayne Salvant's decision came nearly two months after he stopped Staley's execution, ruling that Staley, a paranoid schizophrenic, is too mentally ill. The law requires that Staley be mentally competent before he is executed. "The whole idea of holding somebody down and injecting them so that we can then say, with a straight face, this person is now competent so we can kill them, I think that smacks of an Orwellian-Soviet-style approach to criminal justice," said Jack Strickland, Staley's attorney. "Most people, even conservatives, would find that very offensive. It bothers me." Prosecutors Chuck Mallin and Jim Gibson said they filed the motion to forcibly medicate Staley, who refuses to take his medication, in part to carry out a jury's decision more than a decade ago that Staley should die for his crimes. "People in this community tend to forget the brutal nature of this crime because it was in 1989, going on 17 years," Mallin said, adding that he believes this may be the first time a Texas judge has ordered an incompetent Death Row inmate to be forcibly medicated. "I'm not going to apologize for any actions we take." Staley, 43, was sentenced to death in April 1991 for fatally shooting Robert Read, 35, after taking him hostage during a botched robbery at a Steak and Ale in west Fort Worth. According to court records and news stories, Staley and two friends, all armed with guns, demanded access to the cash register after eating at the restaurant on Oct. 14, 1989. As customers and employees huddled at the rear of the restaurant, an assistant manager slipped out and called police. Police surrounded the restaurant, and Read, the manager, offered himself as a hostage to spare the others. The trio took him up on his offer and held him at gunpoint as they tried to escape. Read, who was married and had three small children, was fatally shot when he resisted as the robbers tried to force him into a hijacked car. Last month, just six days before Staley was to be executed, Salvant rescinded Staley's death warrant after two doctors testified that he was incompetent and unable to understand why he has to die. Last year, Staley came within five hours of execution before an appellate court stopped the punishment for basically the same reason: Staley's mental condition had deteriorated so much that he couldn't comprehend his punishment. During the hearing in Salvant's court Tuesday, Staley, seated at the defense table, picked at his unruly hair and red jumpsuit and could be heard mumbling nonsensical phrases. At one point, he put his handcuffed hands on the back of his head and said something that sounded like "Whoop! Tootie fruity. Want to go back to my cell now." Staley was recently brought back to the Tarrant County Jail from Death Row in Livingston for the hearing. Strickland has said Staley has a long history of mental illness. His mother was a schizophrenic who attempted to stab Staley and his sister with a knife and once tried to pound a wooden stake into Staley's chest. His father was an alcoholic who was killed in a car accident. His grandfather committed suicide. As a teenager, Staley also attempted suicide, the documents state. Since Staley was sent to Death Row in 1991, he has been hospitalized nearly 20 times, for as long as nine months, because he is psychotic. Strickland argued that forcibly medicating Staley to execute him is unconstitutional and violates his right to privacy. He said he is not aware of any case in Texas or in any of the 38 death penalty states where a court has authorized the forcible medication of an incompetent inmate for execution. Prosecutors Mallin and Gibson reminded the judge that inmates are forcibly medicated all the time in prison. The only difference is they are not on Death Row. The prosecutors maintained that they had an "essential interest" in carrying out the jury's verdict, that it was medically appropriate to forcibly medicate Staley and that the side effects of the drugs did not outweigh the benefits. In the end, the judge sided with the state, but the issue is far from over. Staley will not be forcibly medicated right away. The judge is giving Strickland time to appeal to a higher court. Although there is case law on this subject, it is not clear-cut. In 1986, the U.S. Supreme Court ruled that it was cruel and unusual for states to execute a person who is incapable of understanding what is happening or why. But in 1990, the high court ruled that it was OK to forcibly medicate inmates in certain cases, if the treatment is essential for the defendant's safety or the safety of others. In 2003, the 8th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals allowed Arkansas officials to forcibly administer anti-psychotic medication to control an inmate's behavior, which, in turn, made him competent enough to execute. The Supreme Court has not gotten involved in the constitutionality of medicating Death Row inmates to make them competent to be executed. Richard Dieter, executive director of Death Penalty Information Center in Washington, said that he isn't sure why the Supreme Court hasn't weighed in on the issue but that it doesn't arise often. Whether the high court will look at Staley's case remains to be seen, but the legal community will be following the case closely. "It will be watched by the other states and by the Supreme Court," Dieter said. "It's significant because it is an unresolved issue." Melody McDonald, (817) 390-7386 mjmcdonald@star-telegram.com

Will there be a way to execute prisoners in America

April 12, 2006
Judges Set Hurdles for Lethal Injection
By ADAM LIPTAK
Judges in several states have started to put up potentially insurmountable roadblocks to the use of lethal injections to execute condemned inmates.
Their decisions are based on new evidence suggesting that prisoners have endured agonizing executions. In response, judges are insisting that doctors take an active role in supervising executions, even though the American Medical Association's code of ethics prohibits that.
A federal judge in North Carolina, for instance, ordered state officials there to find medical personnel by noon today to supervise an execution scheduled for next week. Otherwise, the judge said, he will impose a stay of execution.
"This, of course, will make lethal injections difficult, if not impossible, to perform," said Dr. Jonathan I. Groner, a professor of surgery at Ohio State University who has studied lethal injections and opposes the death penalty.
A California judge plans to hold hearings on the issue next month, after an execution there was called off for lack of doctors, and the United States Supreme Court will hear arguments this month on whether death row inmates may use a civil rights law to challenge lethal injections as cruel and unusual punishment.
Scores of similar suits, asserting that lethal-injection procedures are illogical and potentially torturous, are pending around the nation. But, until recently, they had met with limited success, said Jamie Fellner, the director of the United States programs for Human Rights Watch, which will issue a report on lethal injections this month.
"When prisoners first started making these challenges," Ms. Fellner said, "the courts gave them short shrift. They thought these were stalling tactics. And there was not a lot of evidence."
The recent decisions, by contrast, rely on accounts of witnesses, post-mortem blood testing and execution logs that seem to show that executions meant to be humane have, in fact, caused excruciating pain.
The three chemicals used in lethal injections in about 35 states have long attracted attention for what critics say is their needless and dangerous complexity.
The first chemical in the series is sodium thiopental, a short-acting barbiturate. Properly administered, all sides agree, it is sufficient to render an inmate unconscious for many hours, if not to kill him. The second chemical is pancuronium bromide, a relative of curare. If administered by itself, it paralyzes the body but leaves the subject conscious, suffocating but unable to cry out. The third, potassium chloride, stops the heart and causes excruciating pain as it travels through the veins.
Problems arise, lawyers and experts for the inmates say, when poorly trained personnel make mistakes in preparing the chemicals, inserting the catheters and injecting the chemicals into intravenous lines. If the first chemical is ineffective, the other two are torturous.
In veterinary euthanasia and in assisted suicides in Oregon, a single lethal dose of a long-acting barbiturate is typically used. But corrections officials and their medical experts say using that method in executions would take too long and would subject witnesses to discomfort.
The three chemicals are to be used to execute Willie Brown Jr. on April 21 in North Carolina. Mr. Brown was convicted in 1983 of murdering Vallerie Ann Roberson Dixon, a convenience store employee, in Williamston, N.C. He had a long criminal history and had just been released from a Virginia prison after serving 17 years of an 80-year sentence for armed robbery and shooting a police officer in an effort to escape.
Lawyers for Mr. Brown said in a court filing that all he was asking for was that state officials adopt "a protocol for anesthesia that affords him the same assurance of dying without conscious suffering of excruciating pain that is given to household pets."
J. Donald Cowan Jr., a lawyer for Mr. Brown, said the state's reluctance to adopt a simpler protocol was "a little puzzling." That was especially so, he added, given that Mr. Brown's legal position amounted to saying, "State, this is how you can execute people properly."
Doctors helped fashion and promote earlier modes of execution, including the guillotine and the electric chair. Similarly, the original lethal-injection protocol was developed in Oklahoma in 1977 in consultation with state's medical examiner and an anesthesiology professor. Other states, typically acting through their corrections departments and individual prison wardens, apparently copied the protocol.
Though some states give prisoners a choice between lethal injection and a second method and Nebraska uses only electrocution, lethal injection is the all but universal method of execution in this country. Every state that has made its lethal-injection protocols public uses the three-chemical combination.
Unlike the earlier methods, lethal injections appear to mimic medical procedures and so require doctors' participation, said Kenneth Baum, a doctor and lawyer who supports the medical oversight of executions. "If the process is medicalized," Dr. Baum said, "you must have physicians playing a central role in the execution chamber and in analyzing the protocols."
But the American Medical Association's ethics code forbids doctors to perform an array of acts at executions, including prescribing the drugs, supervising prison personnel, selecting intravenous sites, placing intravenous lines, administering the injections and pronouncing death.
The code is not legally binding, and doctors in many states have participated in executions, often anonymously. In the recent California case, however, doctors willing to participate in the execution could not be located in time.
Judge Malcolm J. Howard of the Federal District Court in Greenville, N.C., on Friday ordered state officials to make certain that Mr. Brown would be provided with medical personnel capable of ensuring unconsciousness as the second and third chemicals were administered and of "providing appropriate medical care" if Mr. Brown woke up. Judge Howard did not say that the personnel had to be doctors, but medical experts said his meaning was unmistakable.
"He's describing a physician, specifically an anesthesiologist," said Dr. Richard J. Pollard, the president of the North Carolina Society of Anesthesiologists.
Noelle Talley, a spokeswoman for the North Carolina attorney general, would not say how the state planned to respond. "We're still reviewing the judge's order," Ms. Talley said.
Judge Howard based his order on what he said were "substantial questions" about the possibility of agonizing death. He noted that post-mortem levels of sodium thiopental in the bodies of four North Carolina inmates executed in the last six months suggested that they might have been conscious as they endured the suffocation and pain caused by the final two chemicals. Prosecutors said the testing might not have been conducted properly.
Judge Howard also noted that three lawyers who had witnessed executions in the state submitted sworn statements saying that some of the condemned men were writhing and gagging during their executions.
"Instead of the quiet death I expected," one of the lawyers, Cynthia F. Adcock, said in a sworn statement about her client Willie Fisher, who was executed in 2001, "Willie began convulsing. The convulsing was so extreme that Willie's cousin jumped up screaming."
Such convulsions are inconsistent with a proper dosage of sodium thiopental, a medical expert for Mr. Brown said.
An appeals court in New Jersey halted executions there in 2004 pending an explanation from corrections officials of an aspect of that state's lethal injection procedures. "Nothing in the record," the court said, "suggests medical consultation." The corrections department has yet to issue new regulations, and the State Legislature adopted a one-year moratorium in January.
Lawyers for a Missouri death row inmate, Reginald Clemons, said they would file their own challenge this month, asking that an anesthesiologist supervise his execution. "The state has chosen to proceed with an execution that requires the use of highly trained medical personnel," said Jill M. O'Toole, a lawyer with Simpson Thacher & Bartlett in New York. "It's put itself in this bind."

Copyright 2006 The New York Times Company

Videotaping Confessions

April 11, 2006

New York Times

Wrongful Conviction Prompts Detroit Police to Videotape Certain Interrogations

By JEREMY W. PETERS

DETROIT, April 10 — The Detroit Police Department, whose image has been marred for years by complaints of wrongful detentions, the excessive use of force to obtain confessions and other civil rights abuses, has agreed to videotape interrogations of all suspects in crimes that carry a penalty of life in prison without the possibility of parole.

Detroit's police chief, Ella Bully-Cummings, said she viewed the new policy as a way to reform her department, which is operating under two consent decrees with the Department of Justice.

The videotaping, part of a settlement of a lawsuit brought by the family of a mentally ill man who spent 17 years in prison after confessing to a rape and murder that he did not commit, is expected to be in place within six months.

"Number one, it keeps cops honest," Chief Bully-Cummings said. "It's a protection for the citizen that's being interrogated. But from a chief's point of view, I think the greatest benefit is to police because what it does is provide documentation that they didn't coerce."

Chief Bully-Cummings said the department had installed equipment so it could begin taping interrogations once the final settlement was worked out and approved by the City Council and Judge Gerald E. Rosen of Federal District Court here.

A decade ago, the only states to require videotaped interrogations were Minnesota and Alaska. But in recent years, as DNA testing has led to the release of scores of prisoners and raised concerns about the prevalence of coerced confessions, more and more states and municipalities have begun recording interrogations. At least 450 police departments across the country now do so, said Thomas P. Sullivan, a former United States attorney in Chicago who has studied interrogation procedures.

"When you put it all on videotape, it gives you no leeway," he said. "You can watch it. I can watch it. The jury can watch it. I always say it's like having an instant replay so you know whether the guy went out of bounds in a football game or whether the tennis ball went out of the court."

Advocates for the wrongfully convicted applauded Detroit's decision.

"Detroit in this case has real symbolism to it," said Barry C. Scheck, a lawyer who helped negotiate the new policy with the city on behalf of the family of the wrongfully imprisoned man, Eddie Joe Lloyd. "It sends a message to other police chiefs that even in the most difficult departments, this is something you can get done. That's the significance of this."

As part of the consent decrees, which have been in place since 2003, Detroit agreed to overhaul its arrest, interrogation and detention policies.

Mr. Lloyd died in 2004 at age 54, two years after he was released from prison. Though disabled by a circulation problem in his leg and suffering from heart disease, he spent his final years, family and friends said, convinced that his case could serve as an impetus for change.

Mr. Lloyd traveled across the country as a speaker for the Innocence Project, a program at the Benjamin N. Cardozo School of Law at Yeshiva University founded in part by Mr. Scheck that works to free the wrongfully convicted. Mr. Lloyd's customary sound bite, often uttered in interviews and speeches, was: "DNA is God's signature. God's signature is never a forgery, and his checks never bounce."

Ruth Lloyd Harlin, 56, Mr. Lloyd's younger sister, said the new policy brought "a sense that the wrong has been righted."

"It would have saved Eddie many years of being incarcerated if it had been in place when he went away," Ms. Harlin said. "We can't change that. The only thing we can look forward to now is that it won't happen to anyone again."

The Lloyd family is in the process of finalizing the settlement, reportedly worth more than $4 million, with the City of Detroit and state and county agencies in Michigan, lawyers involved with the case said.

In early 1984, Mr. Lloyd, a patient at the Detroit Psychiatric Institute who suffered from delusions that he had a special ability to solve crimes, sent a letter to the police saying he wanted to help in the investigation of the killing of Michelle Jackson, 16, the latest victim in a rash of several dozen rapes and murders. It was similar to other letters he had written, falsely claiming he knew things that would allow the police to solve heinous and well-publicized cases.

But this time, the police said, the letter mentioned details of Ms. Jackson's murder that had not been made public, and Mr. Lloyd quickly shot to the top of the list of suspects.

Mr. Lloyd's lawyers have said the police interrogated him at the hospital, fed him details of the crime and convinced him that confessing would help them find the real killer. At his sentencing, Judge Leonard Townsend of the Circuit Court in Wayne County said he regretted that Michigan had abolished the death penalty. He sentenced Mr. Lloyd to the maximum, life in prison.

After listening to Mr. Scheck discuss the value of DNA testing in criminal cases on the talk show "Donahue" in 1995, Mr. Lloyd wrote to him and asked for help.

By that time, most of the files had disappeared. But a pair of semen-stained long johns, which Mr. Lloyd said he had wrapped around Ms. Jackson's neck, had survived, and DNA testing determined that the stains had not come from him.

Acknowledging her department's tarnished image, Chief Bully-Cummings said the settlement in the Lloyd case was a step forward. "I'm in charge of a department that's under two consent decrees," she said. "So it's important for me as a chief to be proactive."

Of the videotaping, she said, "I just thought this was the best practice for us."

Copyright New York Times

New Scam - Tickets when you are not at fault

The newest scam involves those stopped for a traffic violation who claim to have left wallets and other ID at home and claim to be someone else. They know the person's birthdate and other info. End result is that courts are jammed with cases of those who were not involved receiving tickets and court summons. Very often it is a sibling who is claiming to be someone else.

State law that appears to allow abuse in prison

Tucson Weekly Print Friendly: http://www.tucsonweekly.com/gbase/currents/Content?oid=45116

PUBLISHED ON MARCH 7, 2002:

Bar Wars

State officials say private prisons need tighter regulation. A look inside the Florence Correctional Center suggests they may be right.


More than 550 Hawaiian inmates are serving time at the Florence Correctional Center, a private prison that has seen plenty of trouble since opening in 1999.


Arizona Department of Corrections Director Terry Stewart: "It's such an unforgiving situation when a maximum-security prisoner escapes, I don't know why we would allow them to be imported."

Frank Luna, the new warden at the Florence Correctional Center, has hired a chaplain for religious programs, increased recreation time and laid the foundation for a drug rehabilitation program.

"We're not the dumping grounds for the rest of the country," said Rep. Ed Poelstra, who has introduced legislation to tighten regulation of private prisons in Arizona.

Warden Frank Luna shows off a box of pineapples from the inmates' home state of Hawaii.
Turn right off the Florence highway after Big O Tires. The red warehouse on the left is where Hawaii stockpiles its most dangerous export.

Two flagpoles and triple-spiraled razor wire mark the front entrance of the Florence Correctional Center, a private prison run by the Corrections Corporation of America. Inside, more than 550 Hawaiian inmates are serving average sentences of 10 years.

Behind these walls, just about everything that could go wrong in a prison has gone wrong. In the three years since the facility opened, prisoners have taken hostages and rioted. Two prisoners died by mysterious causes. Last year, Hawaiian officials reported that a prison gang, 100 members strong, was in control of the facility, leaving inmates and staff in fear for their lives.

The prison is less than an hour's drive from both Phoenix and Tucson, but under Arizona law, no state official can do anything about it.

Arizona Corrections Director Terry Stewart is trying to change that by asking lawmakers to pass a bill that would give the state regulatory authority over the private prison industry.

"I'm not trying to get into their business except to say when you build a facility in this state, it doesn't have to meet any other requirement than building codes," Stewart said. "They don't have to follow any standards of operation except what's imposed by the company itself."


SINCE 1995, the Aloha State has said good riddance to more than 1,100 of its criminals. The banished islanders are shipped to the mainland, where CCA, the nation's largest private prison contractor, houses them at $42 per head per day, or about $17 million a year. More than half of these prisoners are in the Florence Correctional Center. According to Hawaiian reports, about 300 of these are sex offenders.

By the governor of Hawaii's own admission, these are some of his state's worst prisoners. And Arizona's prison chief doesn't understand why Arizona would want them here.

"It's such an unforgiving situation when a maximum-security prisoner escapes, I don't know why we would allow them to be imported," Stewart said.

CCA operates three prisons in Arizona, none of which falls under state scrutiny. That's because state law says that Arizona can regulate only prisons that house Arizona prisoners. CCA contracts exclusively with out-of-state jurisdictions, like Hawaii.

Hawaii also sends prisoners to facilities in Oklahoma, which doesn't accept sex offenders, first-degree murderers or inmates who require more than medium-security treatment. That's why the CCA keeps the worst of the lot in Arizona, which doesn't take such precautions.

Stewart doesn't want to crash the luau, but to him it's a matter of public safety.

"Many other states have said they're not going to accept those kind of inmates," Stewart said. "The longer we wait the more fertile we become when more states eliminate that possibility."

Via a bill sponsored by Tucson's Rep. Ed Poelstra, the prison chief is asking lawmakers to lock out other states' maximum-security prisoners. The bill also would require that all contracts with out-of state jurisdictions be approved by a state committee and the Department of Corrections. It would set construction and operational standards for private prisons.

"We have met with all the private prison entities that do business in Arizona. By and large they are in agreement," Stewart said. That is, except for CCA, which also happens to be the only company that doesn't contract with the state.

Based in Tennessee, CCA houses more than 4,000 prisoners in Arizona. In addition to its deal with Hawaii, the company has contracts with the U.S. Marshals Service, the federal Immigration and Naturalization Service and state of Alaska.

In 1996, six Alaskan inmates, including a murderer and a man who raped a 9-year-old, escaped from CCA's other Florence prison, the Central Arizona Detention Center. At the time, according to Stewart, it became evident that there wasn't much in state law holding CCA responsible.

"The legislation was changed to create penalties and require private prisons to reimburse the states for the efforts of quelling an incident," Stewart remembered.

The state Legislature passed a measure to fine private prisons $10,000 for every escapee. But to CCA, the penalty is no more than a slap on the wrist, considering that they collect more than $15,000 from Hawaii per prisoner each year.

The law also requires private prisons to file a $10 million insurance policy with the Arizona Department of Administration. But a loophole included in the law says private prisons can skip this step if they've got a net worth of more than $15 million, which CCA does.

"At that point in time Gov. (Fife) Symington wasn't comfortable with imposing any greater regulation," Stewart said.

Two years later, the Legislature passed a sweeping tax exemption for private prison industry just as CCA was finalizing its plans for a new facility.


THE FLORENCE correctional center opened for business and began accepting Hawaiian inmates in late 1999. The prison's problems began only a few months later.

The night of the primary election in 2000, state Sen. Pete Rios was in Florence waiting for election returns, when the prison exploded in violence.

"Suddenly the town was shut down because there was a hostage situation at the private prison," Rios said. "Lo and behold, the story goes, an inmate took a correction officer as a hostage and they were thinking of dialing 911 to help."

Prison officials weren't sure they could handle it, so the alarm went out to local law enforcement. The Florence PD wasn't sure it could handle it either, and alerted Stewart's office.

"Local law enforcement called us and said we may need your help," Stewart said. "That was never straightened out. We were never called and it caused a lot of concern."

The CCA still hasn't told the state what happened; under state law, the corporation doesn't have to.

The prison's troubles only escalated. In the first half of April 2001, there were two deaths and six inmate assaults at the prison. One inmate spent a week in the hospital, another suffered a broken jaw. Inmates sliced up a staff member. Finally, Hawaii's Department of Public Safety sent a team to Arizona to investigate.

From the beginning of the inspection, auditors said, it was clear that prison wasn't complying with the contract. A "hostile environment" kept the audit team from inspecting most of the facility.

The team called the center "a prison in turmoil," describing an administration so weak that it paved the way for prisoners to establish their own regime.

In no uncertain words, the audit found that Hawaii's "first bona fide prison gang," the United Samoan Organization, was unofficially running the facility.

"The group has grown quickly and to great numbers," Hawaiian gang intelligence officer Sgt. Patrick Kawai said in the resulting report. "Their power and control is getting bigger and bigger. We need to actively take our role to dissipate this group now. The state may be held liable in the future by actions done by this group."

The gang, or in prison lingo, "Security Threat Group," numbered more than 100 members in April. The gang was trafficking drugs, brewing their own booze and running a prostitution ring with the INS female detainees also housed at the prison. The gang also manipulated violent attacks on inmates and staff.

"It is known that every recent major assault that happened was related to the USO family," Kawai said.

While there, the team discovered a five-gallon bucket of homemade alcohol in the prison's kitchen. One officer admitted to the team "he was afraid of the Hawaii inmates and traded drugs for protection." Kawai said he never once observed CCA officers frisk or strip-search an inmate or toss an inmate's bunk.

"The lack of these simple security measures allow for more passing of contraband," he said in his report. "Furthermore, it would appear that the inmates have no fear to transport anything on their person."

Prison officials weren't cooperative with the audit team and could not produce proof of their accreditation specified by the contract, he said.

"During our meetings I felt as though our counterparts at the facility were being careful of what they were disclosing and generally had the feeling that they were withholding information from us," Kawai said. "The packet that I had requested for a week prior was not completed when we arrived and was done very poorly. In my opinion the packet was just a pacifier, to have something to give to us but of little use to us. The inmates had more information than we did."

After the visit, the state of Hawaii demanded changes and the CCA responded immediately with an eight-day lockdown. Together Hawaii and CCA broke up the United Samoan Organization, transferring over 48 gang members to New Mexico.

The prisoners have since returned to Arizona and are now housed in CCA's Central Arizona Detention Center.

In the months following the investigation, the company replaced the prison's entire management team, including the warden, and began implementing some of Hawaii's recommendations.

The new warden, Frank Luna, hired a chaplain for religious programs and created a hobby shop for inmates. He increased inmates' recreation time and laid the foundation for a drug rehabilitation program.

While Hawaii officials said they saw a large improvement in the prison's operation in a follow-up report in July, they also noted that the prison had yet to meet all its contract agreements.

BETWEEN JULY AND December 2001, there was no such contract between Hawaii and the Florence Correctional Center.

Pinal County acts as the middleman between Hawaii and the Florence Correctional Center, taking a $2 per head per day cut, amounting to more than $1.7 million a year.

Pinal County Manager Stan Griffis' office stalled the three-year contract renewal for more than six months. Griffis says that the hold up was due to a legal technicality.

But in Hawaiian media, it's a different story. The Honolulu Advertiser reported in December that the contract was delayed because Griffis wanted to make it clear CCA and not Pinal County would be liable for any damages in the case of contract breach.

In other words, if something goes wrong Griffis doesn't want to be held accountable.

The temporary contract signed in December is expected to get a three-year renewal in May, but if House Bill 2432 passes first, that may never happen.

"The company is opposed to any regulation that impedes our ability to meet our customers' needs," CCA spokesman Steve Owen said.

CCA and Wackenhut Corp are the two big kahunas in the corrections industry, controlling about 75 percent of the market, says Joshua Miller, corrections researcher for the American Federation of State, County and Municipal Employees, an opponent of prison privatization.

Miller's job is to track private prisons, compile facts and media stories from around the nation. He says the situation in Arizona is more or less typical.

"We're talking about multinational corporations negotiating with small townships who have no corrections experience whatsoever," Miller said. "These corporations draft the most favorable legislation and get away with the most they can get away with."

Private prison companies had their gold rush in the '80s and '90s, he said, when the nationwide trend was to toughen the justice system with three-strikes and mandatory minimum sentencing laws, creating a prison overpopulation crisis for the states and a boom for the private-prison industry. In 2001, there were more than 140,000 beds in private prisons.

"Privatizing corrections is not like privatizing tree-trimming or waste management," Miller said. "With corrections we're talking about the administration of justice, something that should not be contracted out to the lowest bidder."

Other states have horror stories that rival those told by the Florence audit, Miller said. Hundreds of new clippings in AFSCME's database document everything from CCA releasing the wrong prisoners to riots to contract disputes over guard training. The most memorable, Miller said, was when six prisoners escaped a CCA facility in Ohio in broad daylight.

"The primary different between the government and a company is access to information," Miller said. "With the government you can file a public information request, but the corporations will tell you everything is proprietary. You don't hear anything until there's a major lawsuit or it turns up in the media."

Griffis said he hadn't seen the Hawaiian audit when he negotiated the six-month contract. Stewart said he hasn't seen it either; he read about the audit in an e-mailed news clipping.

But Rep. Poelstra read the audit on a Florida police organization's Web site. It's one of the reasons he's sponsoring the bill to strengthen regulation of private prisons. But last year CCA defeated a similar regulation measure by Sen. Rios.

"We have weathered our share of difficulties in the recent past," CCA says on the investor portion of its Web site. CCA's stock is traded on the New York Stock Exchange. Stockholders saw the company take $744.3 million hit in 2000, and report only $5 million net income in 2001.

"However, our new management team, along with the consistent quality of our operations, has set us on a path to a future greater than anyone can predict," the Web site boasts.

Poelstra's bill could throw the corporation off that track. Under the proposal, the Joint Committee on Capital Review and Department of Corrections would have to sign off on the contract when it comes up for renewal.

But if the bill passes, there may not be a reason to renew the contract.

The facility could be rendered obsolete, because the bill would also limit many of the types of prisoners that the Center houses. While the Florence Correctional Center claims it houses only medium-security prisoners, Stewart points out that's by CCA's definition, not Arizona standards.

Hawaii may have to bring the prisoners home. According to State Net Capitol Journal, officials are already weighing the costs of building a new prison on their own turf.

"We're not the dumping grounds for the rest of the country," said Poelstra, who is making this reform a central issue. "This bill will not die."


THESE DAYS, THE Florence Correctional Center is quiet bastion on the edge of farmland. Children's bicycles hide in the weeds in the neighboring patch of run-down homes. It's just one prison in a town full of prisons.

Inside, the silence of the prison is punctuated with the yells of "Lock it down" rising from the inmate designated "Sergeant-At-Arms" in Warden Luna's new drug rehabilitation program.

"Warden Luna has turned this place around 200 percent," says counselor Reggie Herbon. But he's only been there since July and doesn't know what it used to be like.

After the report came out, the staff of the prison changed dramatically. Only a handful remember the time when inmates brewed hooch and robbed the kitchen blind.

The inmates still have a lot of freedom--freedom to make phone calls, freedom to give each other haircuts, freedom to fill laundry bags with ramen noodles bought from the commissary.

The prisoners salute Warden Luna when he walks the corridors. He shows off a box of pineapples sent to him from Hawaii.

CCA also owns the Eloy Detention Center, a 20-minute drive away. It also make local news headlines regularly, donating bikes and hosting fundraisers. The detention center softball team took first place in a tournament that benefited the family of a slain Pinal County deputy.

CCA's Central Arizona Detention Center in Florence has a good reputation, despite the prison breaks in 1996. Arts and craft made by Alaskan inmates are often donated to help poor families.

But good local news is not be enough to convince those who work in corrections that these prisons are safe.

"[Arizona Department of Corrections officers] get frustrated with state pay and go over there, but a lot of times, they come back," said one state corrections officer whose nephews work for CCA. "I've worked on both of the state's Super Max facilities, and I still feel safer here."

The state has two "super-maximum security" prisons in Florence, SMU I and SMU II, each reserved for death-row inmates, violent prisoners and gang members.

The state's gang specialists at SMU II know about the United Samoan Organization, and they know its members are still in CCA facilities in Arizona. "We need put them through our evaluation process." one specialist says, looking at wall-to-wall Polaroids of tattooed inmates arranged by the intelligence office of the permanently locked-down facility. "They need to be here, in a facility like this."