Who is the Colorado Criminal Justice Reform Coalition?

Our mission is to reverse the trend of mass incarceration in Colorado. We are a coalition of nearly 7,000 individual members and over 100 faith and community organizations who have united to stop perpetual prison expansion in Colorado through policy and sentence reform.

Our chief areas of interest include drug policy reform, women in prison, racial injustice, the impact of incarceration on children and families, the problems associated with re-entry and stopping the practice of using private prisons in our state.

If you would like to be involved please go to our website and become a member.


Sunday, July 18, 2010

The Law of the Weed

http://www.economist.com/node/16591136?story_id=16591136
IN 1971 a group of teenagers in San Rafael, north of San Francisco, started meeting after school, at 4:20PM, to get high. The habit spread, and 420 became code for fun time among potheads worldwide. Ever since, California has remained in the vanguard of global cannabis culture. Oaksterdam University in Oakland is today unique in the world as a sort of Aristotelian lyceum for the study of all aspects—horticultural, scientific, historical—of the weed.
Legally, California has also been a pioneer, at least within America. In 1996 it was the first state to allow marijuana to be grown and consumed for medicinal purposes. Since then, 13 states and the District of Columbia have followed, and others are considering it. But this year California may set a more fundamental, and global, precedent. It may become the first jurisdiction in the world to legalise, regulate and tax the consumption, production and distribution of marijuana.
Other Western countries—from Argentina to Belgium and Portugal—have liberalised their marijuana laws in recent decades. Some places, such as the Netherlands and parts of Australia, have in effect decriminalised the use of cannabis. But no country has yet gone all the way.
Several efforts are under way in California to do exactly that. One is a bill wending its way through the state legislature that would essentially treat marijuana like alcohol, making it legal for people aged 21 and over. Sponsored by Tom Ammiano, a flamboyant gay activist and assemblyman from San Francisco, it would levy a $50 excise tax on every ounce produced and a sales tax on top, then use those funds for drug education. A rival bill would de-penalise (as opposed to legalise) marijuana, so that getting caught with it would be no worse than receiving a parking ticket.
The more visible effort is a measure, Proposition 19, which will be put directly to voters on the November ballot. This so-called Regulate, Control, and Tax Cannabis Act of 2010, sponsored by the founder of Oaksterdam University, would also legalise the growing, selling and smoking of marijuana for those older than 21, within certain limits. But it would leave the regulation and taxation entirely up to counties and cities. These could choose to ban the business or to tax it at whatever rate they pleased.
This burst of activity may yet come to nothing, however. California has deeply conservative parts, and Proposition 19 has mobilised them. George Runner, a Republican state senator, calls legalisation a “reprehensible” idea. He fears that “once again California would be the great experiment for the rest of the world at the expense of public safety, community health and common sense.”

Marijuana advocates cheer DEA agent's exit from state - The Denver Post

Marijuana advocates cheer DEA agent's exit from state - The Denver Post

Marijuana-legalization advocates cheered the upcoming departure of federal agent Jeffrey D. Sweetin because, they said, they believe his views are not in line with the will of Colorado voters who legalized the drug for medicinal purposes.

The outspoken special agent in charge of Denver's Drug Enforcement Administration understands that he became the "face" of anti-legalization in Colorado, but says his exit doesn't mean the fight over marijuana is over.

"The person who takes my place is going to have the same mission I have," Sweetin said.

DEA agents are sworn to uphold the constitution, and marijuana remains illegal under federal law, he said.

A widely publicized clash

Sweetin was promoted to run the DEA training center in Quantico, Va., and will provide international support in places such as Afghanistan. The new assignment begins in September.

Sweetin was widely panned by medical-marijuana proponents during his eight-year tenure. The criticism heightened after Chris Bartkowicz, a Highlands Ranch resident who was growing medicinal-marijuana plants in his basement, was arrested after showing his operation in a television interview.

The DEA maintains that Bartkowicz was arrested because he was selling more plants than he had patients and his grow operation was within 1,000 feet of an elementary school.

Sweetin points out that the DEA is not raiding dispensaries that have boomed throughout the state. He believes marijuana proponents used the arrest as a way to build hysteria.

"It's a difficult societal issue that can't be broken down into soundbites," Sweetin said. "It's going to continue to be a challenge for Colorado."

Mason Tvert, campaign director of SAFER, a marijuana advocacy group, says he is glad Sweetin is leaving, but agrees that his moving on won't change the DEA's mission.

"One disingenuous anti-marijuana zealot is just the same as another, and I would expect that his replacement would be just as adamant about going after marijuana regardless if the substance is safer than alcohol," Tvert said.

As Sweetin became more outspoken about marijuana in Colorado, the personal attacks increased.

"Medical-marijuana proponents threatened my life and the lives of my family," he said. "We are not thin-skinned. It's OK to disagree with us, but I don't agree with personal attacks. That's cowardice. But people who legitimately stood up, I think that is fine."

Inmates say they witnessed man's death when jailers restrained, shocked him repeatedly - The Denver Post

Inmates say they witnessed man's death when jailers restrained, shocked him repeatedly - The Denver Post

Marvin Booker just wanted to get his shoes.

But deputies at the new Denver jail told him to stop. When Booker, who was being processed on a charge of possession of drug paraphernalia, didn't obey, he was held down, hit with electric shocks and then placed facedown in a holding cell, according to two inmates who watched it unfold.

Booker never got up. He was pronounced dead later that morning.

"I've never seen anything happen like that before in my life," said John Yedo, 54, who was being processed on a charge of destruction of property and said he witnessed the scene. "What I saw is not what you'd expect to see in America."

The two jail witnesses, who were both arrested in the early-morning hours of July 9 around the time Booker was being processed, were contacted and interviewed by The Denver Post separately. Both of them said they had not been questioned by police investigating the death of Booker, a homeless ordained minister who served the poor, but also a habitual criminal with a long string of arrests.

Capt. Frank Gale, spokesman for the jail, said he cannot comment on the ongoing investigation by the Denver Police Department and the Denver district attorney's office, and cannot confirm the inmates' accounts.

He said what happened at the Van Cise-Simonet Detention Facility would have been recorded on videotape.

"If in fact what they are saying is true, it should be reflected in the video," Gale said.

District attorney spokeswoman Lynn Kimbrough said she couldn't comment during the investigation, which could take several more weeks. The coroner's office is awaiting test results before completing the autopsy report and determining how Booker died, she said. In the meantime, the deputies involved in Booker's case are still on the job.

Yedo has had one prior arrest, in 1974 on a drug charge. Christopher Maten, 25, the other witness, was arrested in 2005 for public consumption of alcohol. Neither is a career criminal. The versions the two suspects tell are nearly identical.

"I can't breathe . . ."

Both say that Booker, 56, was asleep in a chair in a holding area of the jail when his name was called and he was ordered to a processing desk.

Half-asleep about 3 a.m., Booker walked to the desk in his socks, forgetting to put on his shoes. The female deputy ordered Booker to sit in a chair in front of the desk.

Booker responded that he wished to stand. When the deputy threatened to have him placed in a holding cell if he didn't sit, Booker told her he would go to the holding cell, said Maten, who had been arrested that morning for resisting arrest in a confrontation with a parking-meter attendant.

" 'Let me get my shoes,' " Maten quoted Booker as saying as he walked toward the chairs to get his shoes.

The deputy yelled at him repeatedly to stop, got up and followed Booker. Booker turned and repeated that he was getting his shoes, Maten said.

The deputy grabbed Booker by the arm and put a lock on him, Yedo said. Booker, who was 5 feet 5 and weighed 175 pounds, pushed her away. At that point, four other deputies wrestled Booker to the concrete floor. They slid down two steps to the floor in the sitting area. Yedo said the deputies each grabbed a limb while he struggled.

" 'Get the Taser. Get the Taser,' " Yedo quoted one of the deputies as saying.

Yedo said he was only about 3 feet away, and Maten said he was close enough that if he stood and took one step, he could reach out and touch one of the deputies.

None of the deputies involved in the restraint has been identified. One female deputy was treated at a hospital for an injury she suffered in the confrontation, Gale said.

A fifth deputy put Booker in a headlock just as the female deputy began shocking him with a Taser with encouragement from one of the deputies, who kept repeating, "Probe his ---," Maten said. He could hear the Taser crackle repeatedly.

Saturday, July 17, 2010

NPR: Difficult Births: Laboring and Delivering in Shackles

NPR
It's a practice so hidden, many don't realize it exists: the shackling of incarcerated women during childbirth.
Across the U.S., there are stories of women going from jails or prisons to hospitals, where they labor and sometimes even deliver while restrained with handcuffs, leg shackles or both.
In recent years, a growing number of states have moved to ban the practice. Ten states now have anti-shackling legislation: California, Colorado, Illinois, New Mexico, New York, Texas, Vermont, Washington, West Virginia — and as of two weeks ago, Pennsylvania.
There have also been lawsuits in a number of states. On Thursday, a jury in rural Arkansas found that a guard had violated the constitutional rights of a woman by shackling her while she was in labor, though they awarded her just $1. In May, a shackling case was settled in Washington state for $125,000. And in Illinois, there's a class action lawsuit against Cook County and its sheriff, Tom Dart.
Legs Chained, Handcuffed To The Bed
Chicago attorneys Tom Morrissey and Ken Flaxman believe there could be as many as 100 to 150 women included in the class action suit, with cases dating back to late 2006. They're seeking an end to the shackling of inmates during childbirth, and compensation for their clients, including Jennifer Farrar, 25.
In November 2008, Farrar was arrested for cashing fake payroll checks. She was charged with forgery, and booked into the Cook County Jail, a sprawling complex on the southwest side of Chicago, and one of the largest jails in the country. She was almost seven months pregnant at the time.
One day the following January, Farrar went to court for a hearing, and there the pains began. An ambulance was called. Farrar says officers cuffed her hands and chained her legs together. Another chain was placed around her belly, connecting her hands to her feet. When she got to the hospital, she says, the belly chain was removed, but her legs were still chained, and one hand was cuffed to the bed.
"The doctor and the nurse," Farrar says, "they were telling the officer, is this necessary, you know? Where is she going to go? She's in labor you know."
She says she remained that way for eight or nine hours, until it came time to push. At that point, the correctional officer unlocked the leg restraints, but left one arm cuffed to the bed. An hour later, Jennifer Farrar delivered her baby girl.
"Here I am, a mother giving birth," Farrar says. "It should be a happy time in my life. I know that I did something wrong, and you have to take the responsibility for what you do. But it wasn't like I was a murderer."
"Tantamount To Torture"
Another plaintiff, Cora Fletcher, was 17 years old in 2006 when she was charged with retail theft. A year later, she missed a court date, and a warrant was issued for her arrest. A year after that, officers showed up at her house, and took her in when she was eight months pregnant. (Click the title to read more)

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

How Far Should The DNA Dragnet Go?

New York Times

Updated July 14, 2010, 03:46 PM
Mitchell R. Morrissey is the district attorney of Denver. An expert in DNA technology and its application in criminal prosecutions, he introduced the first DNA evidence used in a criminal trial in Denver and maintains an online DNA resource.
The recent arrest of Lonnie Franklin for the so-called Grim Sleeper murders is a dramatic example of the value of using familial DNA searches. This arrest highlights the importance of employing every resource and investigative lead available, and reminds us that more than 95 percent of the victims of crime involving DNA are women and children.

When conducting a familial DNA search, investigators use specially designed software to search the DNA database for near matches to generate leads to help solve crimes, often rapes and murders. A near match indicates that the criminal who left the DNA at the crime scene could be the father, brother or sister of the offender whose DNA is in the database. This extra step was estimated by one study to provide a 40 percent increase in the number of investigative leads generated from a DNA database search. This could mean the difference between a serial rapist or murderer being caught or getting away with it, as the "Grim Sleeper" did for 22 years.

Increased public safety is the primary benefit of using familial searching software. DNA helps identify predators; familial DNA searching provides a science-based investigative lead in those cases in which a predator has avoided having his DNA added to the database. This procedure represents a solid first step, grounded in biology, statistics and genetics, which, in conjunction with traditional investigative work, can result in solving crimes and stopping a predator before he strikes again. Of equal importance to law enforcement and the community is the crucial ability of DNA to exonerate the innocent.

Familial searches, and the traditional investigation those searches yield, must be conducted in a legal and constitutional manner. The goal is always to provide investigators with a scientifically based lead while addressing privacy concerns. The familial search polices of the United Kingdom and in Colorado and California address the issues of privacy through a carefully crafted set of practices.

I believe we have a responsibility to use available technology in a constitutional and legal way to protect our communities. Familial searches extend the benefits of DNA technology to ensure that we are doing our best to prevent and solve crimes, and exonerate the innocent. By evaluating DNA evidence and providing leads for investigators, familial DNA searches save time, money and future victims.

Weld County judge will handle Broderick perjury case - The Denver Post

Weld County judge will handle Broderick perjury case - The Denver Post

Weld County District Court Chief Judge James Hartmann will handle the felony perjury case against Fort Collins police Lt. James Broderick.

Hartmann — a former Weld County prosecutor — was assigned the case Tuesday by state court officials.

Larimer County Chief Stephen Schapanski last week asked the state to appoint an outside judge to the Broderick case, since all of Larimer's district judges had voluntarily disqualified themselves. The reason was that sitting judges Terry Gilmore and Jolene Blair may be called as witnesses in any trial of Broderick.

Broderick was indicted by a grand jury last month of eight counts of fabricating evidence and lying during the investigation of Tim Masters for the 1987 murder of Peggy Hettrick.

Hettrick's mutiliated body was found in a field near Masters' home in Fort Collins.

Masters, convicted of murder in 1999, was freed in 2008 following several hearings in which his lawyers produced DNA results that indicated someone else killed Hettrick.

Broderick was the lead investigator in the case and Gilmore and Blair both prosecuted Masters. After Masters was released, Blair and Gilmore were censured by the Colorado Supreme Court for not providing Masters' defense team all the evidence collected by police.

Broderick's first court appearance is scheduled for Monday.

Widgets and snuzus - The Denver Post

Widgets and snuzus - The Denver Post

If Colorado lawmakers restructured how prisons operate, the system could pay for itself and actually benefit society further than just warehousing humans.

The present Colorado inmate workforce of 22,550 prisoners costs taxpayers an average of $30,000 per year to house a single offender. At $755 million, the Colorado Department of Corrections budget is the third largest expenditure for Colorado taxpayers.

Just imagine if two-thirds of the prisoners created more revenue than it costs to house them. There would be additional monies for other areas of state government, and much-needed funds for when prisoners are released.

This is achievable. How?

Inmates could manufacture, service, and sell widgets and snuzus.

What are widgets and snuzus, you wonder?

Widgets and snuzus are a hot commodity, only we aren't producing or marketing them any longer — we are making them abroad.

Due to rising corporate taxes, increased wages, and towering costs of benefits widgets and snuzu companies are leaving Colorado and the U.S. for foreign countries like Mexico, Malaysia and India every day.

What do they make and sell? Everything, you name it: pencils, toys, electronics, bicycle helmets, telemarketing customer service, etc.

But what if we could offer a few of these companies the very advantages they were seeking overseas, here at home, with an eager supply of employees?

DOC director Ari Zavaras has been complaining that violence is on the rise in Colorado prisons. His only solution was more money to partially staff a new maximum security prison.

The majority of Colorado prisoners sleep all morning, play cards all day, and exercise. If they are lucky, they are given a 15-minute task, for which they earn 60 cents a day to pay for their hygiene, restitution, and save for their release.

Given the chance to earn a real income, even a meager income, most prisoners would flock to the opportunity.

Colorado has 24 adult prisons. Each prison would work in conjunction with a contracted medium-sized company that would build their facilities right on prison grounds. Two-thirds of the prisoners would work for the company, the other third would work for the prison itself doing the cooking, laundry, maintenance and schooling. The convicts would receive prevailing wages of at least minimum wage, and the state and private company would split the profits.

This would reduce overall corrections spending from the state budget, and free up revenue for more vital core programs like education and health care.

Profit margins would be substantial. The private companies would not have to provide benefits, wages would be low, and there would be tax breaks. This is a win-win situation.

The biggest winner of all would be the public. Crime would actually be reduced.

As these prisoners are released with savings and good work habits, no doubt, a greater percentage of them would succeed. And dare say, we might actually have to close some prisons.

It's time Colorado lawmakers start thinking outside the box — a box of widgets and snuzus.

State lawmakers OK $2 million to eliminate backlog on medical-marijuana applications - The Denver Post

State lawmakers OK $2 million to eliminate backlog on medical-marijuana applications - The Denver Post

State lawmakers have approved an extra $2 million for the state to hire 56 temporary workers to process a backlog of 63,000 medical-marijuana applications that grows by the day, according to budget records.

State law requires the patient applications to be processed within 35 days, but it is taking the state six to eight months, according to 9News.

"The backlog has continued to grow at a faster pace than anticipated and the authorized funding is no longer sufficient. This backlog must be eliminated," wrote the Colorado Department of Public Health and Environment to the Joint Budget Committee in June.

The health department expects to receive 150,000 medical-marijuana applications a year, based on the number of applications it receives each day. That is equivalent to everyone in Fort Collins getting a medical-marijuana license every year.

According to the health department, 63,100 pieces of mail have not been opened, and 31,400 applications have been opened and evaluated, but the data have not been entered into the system.

Johnson: Leon Kelly helping to keep parolees free - The Denver Post

Johnson: Leon Kelly helping to keep parolees free - The Denver Post

The calls come every single day.

This time the man's name is Alex. He is 35 years old and a 16-year penitentiary loser out on parole with a voice as sweet as an angel's.

Indeed, he says over the speaker phone, he and his wife have just finished scrubbing the kitchen floor of his 80-year-old neighbor's.

He also tells of having a great lead on a job doing fundraising work. Hopefully, he says, it will be the one thing that finally launches him on a "normal life."

The Rev. Leon Kelly hears this, throws himself backward in his big, plush office chair and beams a smile that would warm pretty much every square foot of surrounding Lower Downtown.

"You have come a long way," Kelly tells him, still beaming, repeating the man's words, before asking about the man's wife and whether there is anything he can do for them.

This may represent the next act for Leon Kelly, who for 25 years has struggled mightily to keep gang warfare from exploding in Denver.

Now Kelly, who turns 57 today, is rapidly focusing his life on keeping gang members he might have missed from re-offending and returning to prison.

He sat with me, and we chatted a long time about his newest project.

Last week, he graduated the second class of his "Flipping the Script" program, in which he works with 10 to 12 parolees to keep them from ever landing behind bars again.

Among this recent class of 11, not one was ever a saint.

Drugs, robbery, burglary — "these have been very bad people," he says of the group he now calls his "children."

He got them for six weeks. He sought not one of them out. They were told what he was up to. Not one was required to take part.

"Each of them looked me in the eye and told me they were tired of prison, that they wanted a life," Kelly says.

He can't remember the length of the parolee list he was given. He selected more than 20 for one-on-one interviews. The parolees ranged in age from 28 to 35.

He could tell the ones who were not ready, were still too hostile and wanted back in the gang life. Those he turned away.

"I told them, 'If I take you on, I will treat you like my own son or daughter.' Some simply were not ready for that," Kelly says.

If they were ready, he would teach them how to change their life path, how to better communicate, how to get a job or finish their education, how to lead a happier and more productive life.

"Not one of them had ever had someone, a father or other role model, who had ever respected them enough that they could trust and actually listen to," Kelly says.

He always knew that was why the penitentiary gates were constantly spinning with the same people.

He had mentioned this to a Department of Corrections higher- up, a man who asked for his ideas and greenlighted this one.

Of the 21 parolees in his two classes, three no longer have contact. Kelly knows they are not back in prison. He just wonders why they don't call.

The other 18 still show up every Thursday night to chat with Kelly.

"It is about adjusting their mind-set. That," he says, "is the biggest thing for me."

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

CSP II to open September 1.

CANON CITY — A portion of a new administrative-maximum security prison will open Sept. 1, providing much-needed deluxe security beds for the state's most-dangerous prisoners.
Workers are finishing up construction of the $162 million Colorado State Penitentiary II. At the same time, new staff who will be working there are undergoing training at the Colorado Department of Corrections Training Academy here.
"There will be a total of 229 employees working in one tower which will house 316 inmates. Some staff will be transferred from other prisons and some are new," said Katherine Sanguinetti, DOC spokeswoman.
The prison will be operated under a shared administration with Centennial Correctional Facility which is adjacent to the new prison. Susan Jones will be warden of the combined prisons.
Because the new prison will share not only administrators and other amenities such as food service operations, they will be jointly referred to as Centennial.
"We will rededicate CSPII as Centennial at a ceremony August 25," Sanguinetti explained.
 All food will be made at the new prison cafeteria and shared with the existing Centennial prison. All totaled the combined Centennial prisons will house 652 inmates.
The current high-security Centennial houses 317 inmates and has a capacity of 336. The new prison has a capacity of 967 inmates but will only house 316 to start.
Sanguinetti said the 316 new beds will be filled quickly because of the state's pressing need for additional administrative-maximum security beds.
As the state finds more money in its budget to open the remainder of the new prison, it can house an additional 651 inmates, which will require another 270 employees to operate.
The state currently houses a total of 22,860 inmates at both state and private prisons.

Monday, July 12, 2010

More Grand Junction police in trouble over allegations involving homeless - The Denver Post

More Grand Junction police in trouble over allegations involving homeless - The Denver Post

GRAND JUNCTION — Three officers have been fired, one has resigned and another remains on paid leave as an investigation of police officers mistreating the homeless wraps up in Grand Junction.

Grand Junction Police Chief John Camper said he does not expect any more firings in the 110-officer department after some officers slashed tents and bicycle tires belonging to the homeless, and in separate incidents, sprayed sleeping bags and rooms at abandoned buildings with pepper spray.

The ongoing investigation of these incidents began in May when an advocacy group for the homeless reported that officers went into a camp near downtown and damaged property left there by homeless people. Officers Justin Roberts, Phillip Van Why and Joseph Mulcahy were fired for causing the damage.

During interviews, the three fired officers gave information about other officers using pepper spray to deter the homeless from gathering at certain places. That resulted in the resignation of the unnamed officer.


Sunday, July 11, 2010

Staying Behind Bars On A Claim Of Innocence

The New York Times


He is either innocent or a madman. Whichever one he is, Everton Wagstaffe will not go quietly.
Locked up nearly 19 years for a crime that he says he did not do, Mr. Wagstaffe could have gotten out of prison long ago by expressing remorse for being involved in the killing of a teenage girl in Brooklyn on New Year’s Day 1992. He and another man, Reginald Connor, were convicted of kidnapping the girl largely on the testimony of a single witness.

Instead, in thousands of letters and volumes of legal briefs he wrote himself, Mr. Wagstaffe has declared his innocence. This is free speech with a twist: he can say whatever he wants, as long as he’s willing to stay in prison until 2017.

“I would rather die here behind bars than live behind the lie that I had anything to do with this terrible crime,” said Mr. Wagstaffe, 41.

Now, after his long and successful battle to get DNA tests and previously undisclosed records, a new team of lawyers has persuaded Acting Justice Sheryl Parker of State Supreme Court to hold a hearing on Mr. Wagstaffe’s claims that he is innocent and that his trial was ruinously flawed by official misconduct and poor legal representation. It will be held this fall. Lawyers for Mr. Connor, 42, are also arguing that his conviction should be overturned on the same grounds.

Last October, the authorities disclosed for the first time that the main prosecution witness — and the only one to directly tie Mr. Wagstaffe and Mr. Connor to the crime — had been a police informant for several years before the trial. The witness, who was addicted to drugs and supported herself as a prostitute, has since died.

Although the defense had asked in 1992 if informants had been used in the case, the prosecution did not reveal that its central and very troubled witness had a history of working with the police.
The failure to disclose that relationship before the trial “provides an overriding reason why the convictions should be set aside,” Myron Beldock, the lawyer who is leading Mr. Wagstaffe’s appeal, wrote in a court filing earlier this year.

The Brooklyn district attorney’s office, which brought the charges and is now defending the conviction, said in its court papers that the witness’s history showed that she “had a track record of providing accurate information to police in other cases.” Joyce Slevin, an assistant district attorney, argued that the information would not have helped the defense anyway. She also said the witness, Brunhilda Capella, got no favors from the authorities.

The trial was delayed for three days while detectives hunted for Ms. Capella, who was going through heroin withdrawal. When she was found, she was held as a material witness.

The case began around dawn on Jan. 1, 1992, with the discovery of the body of Jennifer Negron, 16, on a street in East New York, Brooklyn. Ms. Capella testified that at 3:15 a.m. she had seen Mr. Wagstaffe open a car door and throw Ms. Negron into the front seat, next to Mr. Connor. She did not report the abduction, but said that she later led detectives to the place where the car was parked.

Inside the car was a glove with a spot of blood and a headband that appeared similar to one that was worn by Ms. Negron. At the trial, the prosecution said that Ms. Capella’s identification of the car, and what appeared to be Ms. Negron’s headband, were proof that Ms. Capella was telling the truth.

Neither of the lawyers representing Mr. Wagstaffe or Mr. Connor spoke with the owner of the car, a middle-aged woman who years later said that on the night of the killing she had used her car to drive to a New Year’s church service, where it was blocked in by double parkers. Had the defense lawyers spoken with her, they might have argued that it could not have been used in the abduction, and therefore did not corroborate Ms. Capella’s testimony. Ultimately, a judge said there was no evidence connecting Mr. Wagstaffe and Mr. Connor to the murder of Ms. Negron, but both men were convicted of kidnapping.

The Cornerback and The Ex-Con

New York Times


POMPANO BEACH, Fla. — The cornerback steered his custom truck through familiar streets. The ex-convict sat shotgun and pointed out landmarks, this “drug hole,” that “crack house,” the best routes for eluding the police.
The cornerback is Al Harris. He wears No. 31 for the Green Bay Packers. The ex-convict is Kevin Soto. He wore No. 693430 in the Florida Department of Corrections.
They met 25 years ago, two boys from the same neighborhood north of Miami, bonded by break dancing and back flips and music above all else. That was before Harris went to the N.F.L., before Soto went to prison, before either man had heard of Christian rap.
“All these years, music kept coming up, kept bringing us together,” Harris, 35, said. “It always came back to music, no matter what we did, or where we went.”
In August, Harris and Soto will release a Christian rap album, the culmination of two lives that veered in opposite directions and converged again recently.
The cornerback wore shoulder pads for the first time at age 2, already certain his future was in football. The local boys’ club produced a stunning number of elite athletes, including the N.B.A. guard Eddie Jones and the seven players from Harris’s Blanche Ely High School teams who have played in the N.F.L.
The ex-convict preferred hip-hop. Soto owned one of the first portable stereos in the neighborhood, and he wrote rhymes about street life and Burger King commercials and rapped over the latest beats.
The boys rode the same bus to different schools, with Soto three years older. They engaged in enough adolescent mischief — lobbing batteries at buses, breaking car windows with rocks — that the bus driver separated them by at least two rows, they said.
Soto protected Harris as if he were his brother, wary of the dangers. Their hometown once consisted entirely of fields; beans, peppers, squash and tomatoes lined the horizon. Eventually it filled with families, lower and middle class.
Then came crack cocaine, which produced the usual byproducts: gangs, drugs and crime. The worst centered in Grace Apartments, at the dead end of a one-way street. Soto lived there for years, his favorite memory the night when police officers, clad in helmets and carrying shields, refused to advance beyond a certain point.
“When they tore down those projects, people were upset,” Soto said. “And I was one of them. To a juvenile delinquent, that was like Disney World.”
Even while their paths diverged, the cornerback kept tabs on his friend. Harris heard that Soto carried a gun and experimented with marijuana and cocaine. Harris’s father, Johnny, worked at the high school and noticed Soto driving stolen cars.
“Your boy, he’s heading down the wrong path,” he told his son.
Florida court records show what happened: felony arrests for aggravated assault with a firearm, battery, cocaine possession, robbery with a deadly weapon and marijuana distribution, all between 1990 and 1996.
Soto, 38, estimated he was picked up by the police more than 100 times. Eventually he served three terms in prison, where he said he felt more comfortable than outside.
He outlined his criminal past with detail but not emotion. He stashed drugs in lockers and went high to school, eventually being kicked out. He hid several stolen cars around the neighborhood. He escaped from juvenile detention. On and on it went.
A typical story: “The cops came to the house, and I ran out back. I jumped off a seven-story balcony and broke my kneecap. I have a full cast on my leg. I’m on the run from the police. My wife is tired. I can’t go back home. And I’m still going out trying to keep my drug spot going.”
The ex-convict felt abandoned and rejected by the father he never knew. In Johnny Harris, Soto saw the effect of parental influence. Johnny Harris never cared how many friends his son hosted. Their house sometimes filled with 20 children, but all under his watch.
The cornerback went to junior college, then boosted his N.F.L. stock at Texas A.&M.-Kingsville. Harris started 175 straight games with Philadelphia and Green Bay and became a Pro Bowl regular.
There were chance meetings with the ex-convict over the years, at gas stations or neighborhood haunts. Sometimes, Soto looked muscular, buffed by prison workouts.
After Harris spent 1997 on Tampa Bay’s practice squad, he visited a music studio back home, and recognized Soto’s voice inside the booth as Soto rapped with the lights off. Afterward, Harris asked Soto if he would consider a career in music.
But Soto was not ready. As recently as 2008, behind on child support, depressed and an alcoholic, Soto said he considered suicide. His wife, the mother of five of his six children, initiated a divorce.
What happened next made even Harris skeptical. On April 2, 2008, Soto went to church. He went again. And again. He fixed his marriage and became an usher. Now, the ex-convict counsels prisoners on Wednesday nights.
Eventually, Harris formed 31 Entertainment and teamed with Soto for this project. Last August, they started to make the album they long envisioned, with a twist.
Soto still rhymes about the life he lived, but he also speaks to consequences and incorporates his faith. What results is music at once gritty and introspective, a cross between traditional and Christian rap. Soto calls himself Proof — of God’s work, of redemption, he cautiously hopes.
“No one paints the whole picture,” Harris said. “Mothers who lost sons. Kids who lost their dads. All to live up to some lifestyle that isn’t worth it.”
Harris admitted that even friends were skeptical of the new venture. For years, he had tightened his inner circle, and then he went out and hired an ex-con.
Producers worried that Soto would return and rob their studio, Harris said. Others wondered if he had really changed.
“Al always believed in Kevin,” Johnny Harris said. “Sometimes, that’s what it takes.”
Soto recently finished a mix tape and distributed it to build buzz for the album they plan to release in August. Soto’s appendix burst during production, and less than one month later, Harris sustained a gruesome and rare knee injury that threatened his career and still requires rehabilitation. His future with the Packers appears somewhat uncertain, but he said he thought he would play this season.
The album reflects those struggles, along with their friendship, now 25 years strong. In recent discussions, Harris and Soto talked less about music and more about family, about faith, about men sharpening men

Saturday, July 10, 2010

The Face Of America's Homeless Youth

CNN
Denver, Colorado (CNN) -- When the sun dips below the Rocky Mountains and the streets of Denver go dark, Lokki, his girlfriend Magic and their friend Tripp head home.
They climb in between the rafters of a highway overpass, crouching as they sit under the concrete structure that rumbles with every car that crosses overhead.
It is where they will sleep tonight. It is where they say they can live safely after escaping from abusive homes.
"It's pretty hard," says Magic, 18, when asked about living on the streets. "But most of the time it's just life, you know. Life's not going to be easy."
She refuses to talk about what caused her to leave home.
Her boyfriend Lokki has a different outlook: He says he enjoys the fun and freedom of life on the streets.
"I don't really have to worry about anything," says Lokki, 20. "I get some food and kick back with the homies."
Out of the three friends, Tripp seems to be the most concerned about the future. He says he began living on the streets two years ago, after escaping a violent relationship with his stepfather.
"If I defended myself against him, I always got looked at badly," he said. "So when I turned 18, I left."
He stops talking as he watches a homeless man walk by.
"I'd hate to think that's the way I'm going," says Tripp. "That I'm going to end up being 40 years old and on the streets."
Getting off the streets is a daunting challenge for these young adults and others like them, who have no address, no job, very little education, and many times drug addictions and mental health issues.


"We see a lot of kids really since age of 7 or 8 [who] haven't had any real roots to call their own," according to Tom Manning, spokesman for Covenant House, which helps those who are young and homeless. "Those are the 18-year-olds who [have] very limited education and really need to start from square one."

Investigation underway after man, 56, dies while in custody at Denver's new jail - The Denver Post

Investigation underway after man, 56, dies while in custody at Denver's new jail - The Denver Post

Denver police are investigating the death of an inmate at 3:30 a.m. Friday at the new downtown jail after an incident involving the use of force by sheriff's deputies.

The inmate, Marvin Louis Booker, 56, of Denver, had been arrested about 1 a.m. Friday on suspicion of drug-paraphernalia possession at East 37th Avenue and Williams Street.

Booker was in the intake room, an open seating area, of the new Van Cise-Simonet Detention Facility when the incident occurred, said Denver sheriff's Capt. Frank Gale.

A female sheriff's officer was treated and released for injuries she suffered in the incident, Gale said. No deputies have been suspended from duty, he said.

Gale did not say how many deputies were involved in the incident.

Booker was taken to Denver Health Medical Center, where he was pronounced dead at 4:33 a.m., according to the Denver Office of the Medical Examiner. The office will perform an autopsy.

"I don't know if he was breathing when he left the jail or not," Gale said.

Booker's cousin, George Booker, said the family was still trying early Friday evening to obtain information about Marvin Booker's death. His parents, he said, had been notified but were still unsure their son had died.

Gale said in-custody deaths are automatically investigated as crimes, and he could not release further information about the incident.

Denver police, with the deputy district attorney and a chief deputy district attorney, are investigating.

However, Denver police will not comment on any aspect of the case, Lt. Matt Murray said. The sheriff's department is handling all media inquiries, he said.

DA spokeswoman Lynn Kimbrough said it is expected that the investigation and review will take several weeks.

Booker had a record of drug-related arrests. He also had arrests for disorderly conduct, trespass, loitering, disturbing the peace, carrying a concealed weapon and threatening assault. Many charges against him were ultimately dismissed by the court, but by 2000 he was classified in court records as a habitual criminal.

The $159 million Van Cise-Simonet Detention Center, at 490 W. Colfax Ave., was hailed at its dedication April 14 as a national model that would enable authorities to operate in "a safe, humane and secure environment," said then-Corrections Director William Lovingier.

The most recent previous death of an inmate in custody at a Denver jail was the 2006 death of Emily Rice, 24, who bled to death in jail from injuries sustained in a drunken-driving crash. She had been released from the hospital.

Denver Health and the city of Denver settled separately with Rice's family in 2008 for a total of about $7 million over the claims that her fatal injuries went undetected at the hospital and jailers ignored her cries for help.

Friday, July 09, 2010

Denver Councilman Linkhart seeks additional 6 percent sales tax on medical marijuana - The Denver Post

Denver Councilman Linkhart seeks additional 6 percent sales tax on medical marijuana - The Denver Post

Denver City Councilman Doug Linkhart has proposed a ballot measure that would place an additional 6 percent sales tax on medical marijuana sold in the city to pay for youth programming.

He wants his colleagues on the council to refer the issue to the voters on the November ballot and will bring the matter before the council's safety committee, which he chairs, on July 21.

Other council members expressed interest but also said they had some reservations about taxing the burgeoning medical-marijuana industry, which also is facing new state regulations. They also questioned the timing of creating new programs when the city is facing ongoing budget woes and may have to cut core services.

The new tax would raise an estimated $4.24 million annually, based on current sales-tax revenues generated by medical-marijuana sales in the city. Linkhart said the new tax would sunset after 10 years. He also would exempt those who are indigent from paying the new tax.

"Most people I talk to support it and think it will be a slam dunk," said Linkhart, who added that he believes spending on youth programs now will reduce costs elsewhere in the future by ensuring troubled teens become productive citizens.

Rob Corry, attorney for several medical-marijuana dispensaries and their patients, said Linkhart has his support as long as indigent patients don't have to pay the extra tax.

"Through taxation comes legitimacy, and this would further legitimize our industry," Corry said.

The 6 percent tax would be on top of the current 7.72 percent in sales taxes collected in Denver to fund items ranging from the city's preschool program to Invesco Field, RTD and cultural facilities.

"The connection between medical marijuana and youth programs is that these are kids that are most vulnerable to using drugs and getting into other problems," Link hart said. "I want to protect them from those issues."

Linkhart said the spending would be targeted toward those from the ages of 13 to 15. The tax would raise $3 million annually for after- school, recreation and summer programs, including waiving admission fees for those under 18 to use city recreation centers.

Another $1 million would be generated annually for crime prevention, including a new juvenile assessment center for minor offenders and youth with mental health, substance abuse and family or school-related problems.

A new oversight board would oversee the funding and monitor outcomes.

"Lot of question marks"Many of Linkhart's colleagues on the council were taking a wait-and-see approach.

"I guess on its face, having a moderate tax on medical marijuana that would fund youth programs would be a good thing, but I have questions," Councilman Chris Nevitt said.

"It's a little hard to contemplate generating new revenue for a new program when we're in a situation where we're looking at potentially cutting core city services and laying off city employees," Nevitt said.

He added that he worries about how dispensaries will handle the new tax at a time when the state is imposing new regulations.

"There are still a lot of question marks about how the state licensing regime and regulatory regime is going to work, and what that is going to cost this brand-new industry," Nevitt said.

Councilwoman Carol Boigon said that once new state regulations take full effect, she suspects far fewer people will be using medical marijuana recreationally.

She said if that occurs, she'll be leery of taxing something that the remaining patients consider a vital medical need.

Councilwoman Jeanne Faatz said she told Linkhart she couldn't support his plan.

"At a time when we face a $100 million budget deficit, an expansion of programs is not on the top of my priority list," she said.

Fruita has similar tax

If seven of the 13 council members supported Link hart's proposal, the measure would be headed toward the November ballot. If Mayor John Hickenlooper vetoed that action, the support of nine council members would be required.

"A plan to put any tax proposal on the ballot should include a wide range of community members who can help think through the issue," said Hickenlooper, who did not return telephone calls seeking comment but issued a prepared statement. "We understand Councilman Linkhart is engaged in that process. We support his effort to start a community review of his idea."

Thus far, voters in one other Colorado city have approved an extra tax on medical marijuana. In April, 60 percent of the voters in Fruita, which at that time had no actual medical-marijuana dispensaries, approved an extra 5 percent sales tax.

Oakland, Calif., voters approved a similar tax on medical marijuana last summer.

The Denver council would have to act by Aug. 16 to get the measure on the November ballot.

Thursday, July 08, 2010

Beaten Denver jail inmate sues now-fired deputy and city - The Denver Post

Beaten Denver jail inmate sues now-fired deputy and city - The Denver Post

A Denver City Jail inmate who was beaten by a former sheriff's deputy has filed a federal lawsuit claiming the city has a "deliberate indifference" to a pattern of unconstitutional misconduct by its law enforcement officers.

Robert Duran sued former Deputy Steven Koehler and the city and county of Denver on July 1 for the incident in the jail, which was partially captured on videotape.

Koehler was fired in December after an internal affairs investigation.

He appealed his termination, arguing his actions were justified because Duran was combative, but the Colorado State Personnel Board upheld his firing.

Duran's lawsuit, filed by attorneys David Lane and Qusair Mohamedbhai, says the city has a "continuing, persistent and widespread practice of unconstitutional misconduct by its law enforcement engaging in excessive force."

City Attorney David Fine declined to comment on the lawsuit because his office had not been served with the complaint and he had not had an opportunity to view it.

On March 22, 2009, Duran was booked into the jail on a third-degree assault charge, and once there, he got into a fight with a fellow prisoner in a holding cell.

Duran was told to move toward an elevator so he could be taken to another part of the jail. Koehler approached him and asked, "You want to be a bad---?" the suit says.

The videotape shows Duran put his hands up and was not aggressive toward Koehler.

Koehler then pushed Duran up against the elevator wall, dragged him out and then slammed his head into the frame of a doorway about 10 feet from the elevator.

Koehler then kicked Duran, who was handcuffed, all over his head and body, the suit says.

"Other unknown deputies attempted and eventually succeeded in controlling Koehler," the suit says.

Duran had cuts on his scalp, a bruised chest and ribs, and a head injury.

Criminal charges against Duran were dismissed, and none was ever filed against him with regard to the incident with Koehler.

Koehler told internal affairs investigators that Duran was hostile, yelling and using hand gestures toward him. The former deputy claimed Duran took a fighting stance and refused to get out of the jail's elevator. But the video shows Duran put his hands in the air in a surrendering gesture.

Koehler also claimed he tried to protect fellow deputies from Duran, but the other officers contradicted Koehler's statements.

Pot advocates ask Colorado to allow medical-marijuana use for PTSD - The Denver Post

Pot advocates ask Colorado to allow medical-marijuana use for PTSD - The Denver Post

Cannabis advocates on Wednesday filed a petition to include post-traumatic stress disorder on the state's list of medical-marijuana-approved conditions.

The petition argues that medical marijuana can help with PTSD — especially in veterans — by easing depression, anxiety and nightmares. The petition was formally filed at the state health department by Kevin Grimsinger, an Army veteran and double amputee who said he lost his legs after stepping on a land mine in 2001 in Afghanistan.

"People who have served our country or other people who were injured and have PTSD should be able to have access to medicine that helps them," said Brian Vicente, executive director of Sensible Colorado, an advocacy group backing the

petition.

Colorado voters in 2000 approved a constitutional amendment allowing for the use of medical marijuana for eight conditions. The amendment also creates a petition process by which more conditions can be approved.

Grimsinger's petition will be reviewed by Ned Calonge, the state's chief medical officer, who will determine within 180 days whether it warrants a public hearing before the state Board of Health. If the board gives the OK, doctors would be able to write marijuana recommendations for PTSD.

Four previous petitions — for Parkinson's disease, anxiety, asthma and bipolar disorder — were denied for lack of a scientific basis. The PTSD petition cites multiple studies that suggest marijuana can be beneficial to PTSD patients.

State Rep. Joe Miklosi, a Denver Democrat who supports the petition, said that should be enough to prompt a public hearing.

"All we're asking for is a fair shot, a fair hearing and review process," he said.

Grimsinger, who uses a wheelchair, works as a veterans outreach coordinator for a medical-marijuana dispensary. He said marijuana has helped ease his pain, both physical and emotional.

Wednesday, July 07, 2010

The Case For Treating Drug Addicts In Prison

Newsweek

For the last 16 years, Dr. Josiah Rich has gone weekly to prisons in or near Providence, R.I., to treat people being held there for drug-related offenses. Each time, he has wrestled with an ethical conundrum: not the issue of whether the offenders have done something wrong, but whether the American prison system is doing something worse. “What I see is not bad people,” he says. “Predominantly, I see people with a disease.”
Of the 2.3 million inmates in the U.S., more than half have a history of substance abuse and addiction. Not all those inmates are imprisoned on drug-related charges (although drug arrests have been rising steadily since the early 1990s; there were 195,700 arrests in 2007). But in many cases, their crimes, such as burglary, have been committed in the service of feeding their addictions. Rich, a professor of medicine and community health at Brown University, is worried that, by refusing or neglecting to provide treatment to these addicts, many U.S. prisons are missing the best chance to cure them—and in the process to cut down on future crime. Treatment can reduce recidivism rates from 50 percent to something more like 20 percent, according to the DEA. Yet it is not widely provided. “Our system has taken the highest-risk and most ill people and put them in a place where they have constitutionally mandated health care,“ Rich says. “What a great opportunity to make a difference. Are we just trying to punish people? Or are we trying to rehabilitate people? What do we want out of this?”

Classrooms or Prison Cells?

Faced with a $19 billion budget deficit this spring, California Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger announced that he was taking a cleaver to state health and welfare programs for the poor, the disabled, and the elderly. And rather than removing another slice from the state’s vaunted higher education system—which had already experienced years of reductions in state aid, ensuing tuition hikes, and student protests in response—budget cutters took more than $1 billion out of the state corrections programs, particularly prison health care.

It may seem odd that state funding for college kids often competes with money for prisoners, but if you track spending in California over the past 30 years, you’ll see evidence of a long-standing tug of war between these two very different constituencies. Over much of the past decade, funding for corrections has gone steadily up, while spending on state colleges has tumbled. “The state seems to be saying we have more of a future in prisons than in universities,” University of California president Mark Yudof said in a recent speech.

Following months of protests by students, parents, and colleges, urged the California legislature to pass a constitutional amendment earlier this year that would require the state to spend more on college classrooms than prison cells. “What does it say about any state that focuses more on prison uniforms than on caps and gowns?” Schwarzenegger said, adding that “30 years ago, 10 percent of the general fund went to higher education and 3 percent went to prisons. Today, almost 11 percent goes to prisons and only 7.5 percent goes to higher education. Spending 45 percent more on prisons than universities is no way to proceed into the future.” The state’s priorities, he added, “have become out of whack.”

While his proposal hasn’t succeeded in securing serious political traction, Schwarzenegger’s words are clearly having an impact on voters. When the Public Policy Institute of California recently conducted a poll asking where state government should be trimmed, most respondents said no to more cuts for higher education, and overwhelmingly said yes to trimming the corrections budget. But maybe that was because all the talk about prisons versus colleges confused voters, says Thad Kousser, an associate professor of political science at UC San Diego. The PPI study also found that 49 percent of those polled had the mistaken impression that California was spending more on corrections than anything else. “Prisons are not this mammoth thing that is eating up the rest of the budget,” he says.

The 11 percent that California is spending on corrections is higher than the national state average of 7 percent, and the Golden State’s university system is one of the most extensive in the country. So it may not be surprising that nowhere else in the country is the faceoff between prisons and higher education so stark. However, it is also true that 30 states have already slashed their higher-education budgets in response to recessionary pressure, and there’s every reason to think more cuts will be coming. (A recent report by the National Governors Association [NGA] predicts that states may not regain their fiscal footing until the end of the decade.)

Most states have a commission or committee looking for ways to reduce their budgets, and there’s not much maneuvering room, partly because of rising corrections and health-care costs. Those two, says John Thomasian, director of the NGA’s Center for Best Practices, are “sucking the wind out of any discretionary funding” states had. Most states spend most of their money on K–12 education, but that’s also the least popular place to cut, he says.

As a result, higher education is the budget item that ends up being particularly vulnerable. “When times are good, states put more money into it, because they know it’s their economic engine,” says Thomasian. “But there is no constitutional requirement to fund higher ed.” Governors and legislatures know that they can “let tuition make up the difference” so they treat their state colleges and universities as “a fiscal balance wheel,” acknowledges Terry Hartle of the American Council on Education. It doesn’t help, adds Thomasian, that many state leaders think university systems aren’t managed as efficiently as they should be. “They are not viewed as one of the most productive areas of our economy,” he says. “More money doesn’t produce better students or higher graduation rates.”

But that doesn’t mean that there isn’t pressure building in many states to find smarter ways to cut corrections costs. In California, for instance, two thirds of state-prison admissions are related to technical parole violations, Thomasian says. Yet research shows that parole compliance is better when convicts are hit with immediate sanctions (like a weekend in a local jail) than if they are eventually sent back to prison. Electronic monitoring devices, which restrict convicts’ geographic movements, are also getting more consideration. Both ideas require more state investment in parole and probation supervision, but in the long run, Thomasian says, they will save money and lives. “When people are behind bars, they are not paying child support or paying taxes,” he says. “It’s also a fact that after someone spends two years in prison, they are lost, even if they came in as a nonviolent offender. Total immersion in that kind of culture leaves its mark.
Imprisonment is also very expensive. In California, the cost of keeping an inmate behind bars for a year is about $52,000, similar to the cost of tuition, room, and board at Stanford University. Among the reasons for that high price tag: California has the best-paid prison guards in the country and their union’s political muscle has helped ensure that corrections jobs kept growing over the past three decades. As the state budget crisis has escalated, however, there’s been more of a push by reformers to consider ways to whittle down the prison population by reducing sentences, easing penalties for parole violations, or releasing some prisoners (particularly the elderly and sick) early. But experts say such proposals are politically risky.

New drunken driving laws could lead to more trials | SummitDaily.com

New drunken driving laws could lead to more trials | SummitDaily.com

SUMMIT COUNTY — Statewide drunken driving laws that took effect this month extend minimum sentences for repeat offenders, but the local impact remains to be seen.

“What it's going to do in DUI cases is basically have the unintended consequence of more and more cases going to trial,” said JB Katz, an attorney in Breckenridge.

She said that a person facing more jail time is more likely to plea “not guilty.”

The new laws require second-time offenders to serve at least 10 days in jail and third-time offenders to serve at least two months.

Breckenridge attorney Sean McAllister said he doesn't expect the laws to have much effect locally.

“Frankly, it's not all that different from what Summit County has been doing in the past,” he said.

But he added that he recalls the case of a single mother who got her third DUI, and the judge gave her an ankle monitor with home detention because there was nobody else available to take care of the kids.

“No defense attorney ever likes mandatory jail,” McAllister said. “There may be some people like this woman.”

District Attorney Mark Hurlbert said the disparate sentencing in districts across the state made the new laws necessary.

“DUIs are a huge public safety problem. The person driving is essentially pointing a two-ton weapon at the victim,” he said. “People who drive drunk and have (multiple) drunk driving convictions should be put in jail.”

Katz said that while many people figure “a harsh law will have an incentive effect,” the mind of an alcoholic doesn't always calculate the potential outcome of drunken driving. She said the jail time could lead to less treatment to address illness.

“In the end, what still happens is people die,” she said. “If we don't start changing the thinking on how alcohol is viewed in society, what you're going to end up with is (more) dead people in car accidents.”

Lightened drug laws to follow stiffer DUI penalties

The state Legislature last session also approved a bill taking effect next month to reduce severity of drug-possession crimes.

Marijuana possession for people without medical marijuana licenses is to be a petty offense for up to 2 ounces. The existing law makes possession of more than 1 ounce a misdemeanor.

Possessing small amounts of marijuana concentrate will no longer be a felony, and possession of cocaine and other hard drug amounts will have a higher threshold before becoming a more highly penalized felony.

Hurlbert said he expects these laws to free up money that had been used on incarceration to instead provide treatment. The changes are to impact how the state funds the Department of Corrections.

“The person that was going to prison before is still going to go to prison,” he said.

Both Hurlbert and McAllister worked on a drug task force under the state subcommittee of Colorado Commission on Criminal and Juvenile Justice.

The task force helped to frame the new laws, which McAllister said are a “major reform” toward a system more focused on treatment than incarceration.

“Not everybody who uses drugs is addicted, so it's not a public safety problem,” he said. “We shouldn't be spending millions of dollars a year attacking every person who smokes a joint or does a drug that doesn't endanger anyone else.”

Other than methamphetamine, most drugs have a “pretty small” addiction rate, McAllister said.

Hurlbert aims to have a drug court in Summit County by this fall. He and other local people involved in criminal justice have attended training in Kansas City and are “on the right track” toward setting up the drug court, he said.

Katz, who serves on the drug court board, said the new drug laws reflect a “little more enlightened society.”

Hurlbert said meth hasn't been much of a problem locally, but that other drugs are rather popular.

“There is this party atmosphere up here, so we do see probably more drug cases per capita than some of the other jurisdictions. We have a lot of powder cocaine,” he said.

Tribune Opinion: Justice elusive for Tim Masters | Greeley Tribune

Tribune Opinion: Justice elusive for Tim Masters | Greeley Tribune
After spending 10 years in prison for a crime the courts now say he didn't commit, Timothy Masters' definition of justice has probably changed.

Masters, who spent 10 years in prison for the 1987 murder of Peggy Hettrick only to have the conviction overturned, did receive a settlement of about

$10 million after he sued both the city of Fort Collins and Larimer County for wrongful conviction. But city officials were careful not to take any of the blame for a shoddy investigation or prosecution that led to the conviction.

Fort Collins City Manager Darin Atteberry released this statement after the settlement was announced: “The decision to settle this case does not mean the city agrees with Mr. Masters' allegations. To the contrary, we remain firmly convinced that Lt. (Jim) Broderick and the other officers who investigated the Peggy Hettrick homicide did so in good faith, using the best technologies and expert consultants that were available to them at the time. The decision to settle the case is strictly a business decision that reflects the financial realities and risks of proceeding to trial.”

Those comments strike us as less than genuine. If Fort Collins police acted in “good faith” in their investigation of Masters, then why did he receive

$10 million in settlements? We're just glad it's not Weld County taxpayers who will absorb this loss. But if we were a Larimer County taxpayer, we'd be disappointed, if not outraged, in a

$10 million settlement followed by a statement that it was strictly a “business decision.”

Somebody clearly did something wrong in the Masters investigation and prosecution — $10 million worth of wrong — and it's about time somebody stood up to take responsibility.

In a few months, Broderick will face multiple perjury charges after a grand jury found there was enough evidence to file criminal charges against the detective.

Most of the allegations against Broderick are disturbing. Broderick is accused of lying about having the FBI develop a profile for the alleged killer. He is accused of lying about the shoe prints found at the scene, which he said were linked to Masters and were instrumental in the conviction. He's also accused of trying to link the appearance of the victim to that of Masters' deceased mother, although few similarities existed.

Broderick's fate will ultimately be decided in court. But obviously someone, if not several people, screwed up this investigation. Much money has been spent on prosecuting this case, the numerous appeals and eventual overturning of the conviction, and, of course, the settlement paid to Masters.

Residents have a right to know what really happened in this case, which can undermine our faith in law enforcement and the judicial system. We have to believe that everyone involved in a prosecution — from the police officers to detectives to prosecutors and judges — are acting on the best information and not simply trying to get a conviction at all costs. We need to have some faith that justice will be served.

Obviously, that's not the case here.

Masters himself was guarded in his statement regarding charges against Broderick: “I'm not going to celebrate. But I am pleased to see a glimmer of hope that the man most directly responsible for my wrongful incarceration might be held accountable for his actions to some extent.”

We aren't celebrating either. This is a sad case, for Masters, for the family of Peggy Hettrick and for the residents of northern Colorado.

But we certainly hope for the day that someone — or many people — is held accountable for what has become a serious miscarriage of justice.

Greene: Injured Vet Wants Battle Over Pot To End

Injured Vet Wants Battle Over Pot To End
Consider the case of Kevin Grimsinger.
The 42-year-old former special-forces medic had served in Kosovo and Desert Storm before stepping on a land mine in Kandahar, Afghanistan, in 2001. He lost parts of both legs, broke his back in 13 places, shattered a shoulder and ribs and suffered injuries to several internal organs.
But by far, his toughest wounds are to his brain — textbook post-traumatic stress disorder.
That means flashbacks. It means struggling to sleep and thinking about suicide more often than he cares to admit. His nightmares are constant, he says. "They're bloody, they're noisy and they're gory."
After two years in hospitals, Grimsinger was released addicted "to every pain medication known to man," he tells me. It wasn't until turning to therapeutic cannabis, along with other prescriptions, that he says he has been able to function. Medical marijuana doesn't take away his trauma. But it gives him a break long enough to sleep.
Grimsinger has served on Denver's Commission for People with Disabilities and as a quartermaster at his local Veterans of Foreign Wars post. He works as a veterans advocate at Budding Health, a Denver dispensary, where he leads a support group of nearly 200 former service members.
Most have registered as chronic-pain patients. But just as Grimsinger's stumps are easier to spot than his brain injuries, what ails their minds is far more debilitating.
PTSD isn't a condition that



qualifies for medical-marijuana use in Colorado. Federally, the Veterans Affairs doesn't prescribe the drug and, by policy, threatens to cut off care and benefits to vets who test positive for using it. "Veterans feel incredibly disrespected on this issue, especially as it relates to PTSD," says Michael Krawitz, executive director of Veterans for Medical Marijuana Access.
More than 18 percent of vets returning from Afghanistan and Iraq are traumatized.
"I'd much rather these guys come home and smoke a joint than take pills or drink or beat up their wives," Grimsinger says. "We've seen our battle. We've done our fighting. Don't make us continue to fight: Fight for sleep. Fight for appetite. Fight to get out of bed in the mornings."
He petitioned state Department of Public Health on Friday to add PTSD as a condition for legal medical-marijuana use. A rally is planned outside the health department at 11 a.m. Wednesday.
Despite assertions by health officials to the contrary, his petition cites studies showing cannabis as a more effective treatment for trauma than most pharmaceuticals and with fewer side effects. It also cites a policy in Canada authorizing that government to pay for medical marijuana for veterans. California allows doctors the freedom to decide which conditions qualify.
In New Mexico, the only state citing PTSD as a qualifying condition, more users are registered for trauma than for pain. Health officials here fear a similar floodgate effect, not just among veterans but all Coloradans.
"They've been fighting us on this forever," says Martin Chilcutt, a former intelligence officer and chronic PTSD patient who led the campaign to legalize marijuana here in 2000.
Ten years after Coloradans passed Amendment 20, it is easier to get a marijuana card for carpal tunnel syndrome than for literally being shell- shocked. Call me a flaming liberal or a bleeding heart, but as public policies go, that is messed up.
"Yes, it is, ma'am," Grimsinger says. "Yes, it certainly is."

Monday, July 05, 2010

DOC Statistical Report 2009

2009 Statistical Report

Commentary: 'The New Jim Crow' by Michelle Alexander, a must read | McClatchy

This was my read for Independence Day...appropriate.

Commentary: 'The New Jim Crow' by Michelle Alexander, a must read | McClatchy
You have to face the fact that the whole problem is really the blacks. The key is to devise a system that recognizes this all while not appearing to." — Richard Nixon as quoted by H.R. Haldeman, supporting a get-tough-on drugs strategy.
"They give black people time like it's lunch down there. You go down there looking for justice, that's what you find: just us." — Richard Pryor.


Michelle Alexander was an ACLU attorney in Oakland, preparing a racial profiling lawsuit against the California Highway Patrol. The ACLU had put out a request for anyone who had been profiled to get in touch. One day, in walked this black man.
He was maybe 19 and toted a thick sheaf of papers, what Alexander calls an "incredibly detailed" accounting of at least a dozen police stops over a nine-month period, with dates, places and officers' names. This was, she thought, a "dream plaintiff."
But it turned out he had a record, a drug felony — and she told him she couldn't use him; the state's attorney would eat him alive. He insisted he was innocent, said police had planted drugs and beaten him. But she was no longer listening. Finally, enraged, he snatched the papers back and started shredding them.
"You're no better than the police," he cried. "You're doing what they did to me!" The conviction meant he couldn't work or go to school, had to live with his grandmother. Did Alexander know how that felt? And she wanted a dream plaintiff? "Just go to my neighborhood," he said. "See if you can find one black man my age they haven't gotten to already."
She saw him again a couple of months later. He gave her a potted plant from his grandmother's porch — he couldn't afford flowers — and apologized. A few months after that, a scandal broke: Oakland police officers accused of planting drugs and beating up innocent victims. One of the officers involved was the one named by that young man.
"It was," says Alexander now, more than 10 years later, "the beginning of me asking some hard questions of myself as a civil rights lawyer. ... What is actually going on in his neighborhood? How is it that they've already gotten to all the young African-American men in his neighborhood? I began questioning my own assumptions about how the criminal justice system works."
The result is a compelling new book. Others have written of the racial bias of the criminal injustice system. In "The New Jim Crow," Alexander goes a provocative step further. She contends that the mass incarceration of black men for nonviolent drug offenses, combined with sentencing disparities and laws making it legal to discriminate against felons in housing, employment, education and voting, constitute nothing less than a new racial caste system. A new segregation.
She has a point. Yes, the War on Drugs is officially race-neutral. So were the grandfather clause and other Jim Crow laws whose intention and effect was nevertheless to restrict black freedom.
The War on Drugs is a war on African-American people and we countenance it because we implicitly accept certain assumptions sold to us by news and entertainment media, chief among them that drug use is rampant in the black community. But. The. Assumption. Is. WRONG.
According to federal figures, blacks and whites use drugs at a roughly equal rate in percentage terms. In terms of raw numbers, WHITES are far and away the biggest users — and dealers — of illegal drugs.
So why aren't cops kicking THEIR doors in? Why aren't THEIR sons pulled over a dozen times in nine months? Why are black men 12 times likelier to be jailed for drugs than white ones? Why aren't WHITE communities robbed of their fathers, brothers, sons?
With inexorable logic, "The New Jim Crow" propounds an answer many will resist and most have not even considered. It is a troubling and profoundly NECESSARY book.

Targeting Blacks For Marijuana

Drug Policy Alliance Report
For Immediate Release: Wednesday, June 30, 2010. Contact: Stephen Gutwillig (323) 542-2606 or Tony Newman (646) 335-5384

The Drug Policy Alliance, the nation's leading organization advocating alternatives to the war on drugs, has released a report that documents widespread race-based disparities in the enforcement of low-level marijuana possession laws in California. Focused on the 25 largest counties in the state, the report finds that African Americans are arrested for marijuana possession at substantially higher rates than whites, typically at double, triple or even quadruple the rate of whites. Further, blacks are arrested for marijuana possession far out of proportion to their percentage in the total population of the counties.
According to the report, “Targeting Blacks for Marijuana,” these disparities in marijuana possession arrest rates between whites and blacks cannot be explained by their patterns of marijuana use. U.S. government studies consistently find that young blacks consume marijuana at lower rates than young whites. The report was released to coincide with the official endorsement of Proposition 19, the Control and Tax Cannabis Initiative 2010, by the California State Conference of the NAACP. Proposition 19 will appear on the general election ballot November 3rd.
“The findings in this report are a chilling reminder of the day-to-day realities of marijuana prohibition and the large-scale racist enforcement at its core,” said Stephen Gutwillig, California director of the Drug Policy Alliance. “Racial justice demands ending this policy disaster and replacing it with a sensible regulatory system that redirects law enforcement to matters of genuine public safety. Proposition 19 is California’s exit strategy from its failed war on marijuana.”
Led by Queens College sociologist Harry Levine, researchers studied arrest records from 2004 through 2008 in California’s 25 largest counties, home to about 90 percent of the state's population and almost all of the state's African Americans. Highlights of the report include:
In the 25 largest counties as a whole, blacks are 7% of the population but 20% of the people arrested for possessing marijuana.

Teenagers and young people age 20 to 29 make up the great bulk –70% to 80% – of all the people arrested for possessing marijuana.

These racially-biased marijuana arrests are a system-wide phenomenon, occurring in every county and nearly every police department in California, and elsewhere. The arrests are not mainly the result of personal bias or racism on the part of individual patrol officers.
Marijuana possession arrests have serious consequences. They create permanent "drug arrest" records that can be easily found on the Internet by employers, landlords, schools, credit agencies, licensing boards, and banks.
“Patrol and narcotics police face enormous pressure to meet arrest and ticket quotas. Marijuana arrests are a relatively safe and easy way to meet them, but they don’t reduce serious crime,” said Prof. Levine, primary author of the report. “However, these mass arrests can impact the life chances of young African Americans, who actually consume marijuana at lower rates than young whites.”
The report’s specific findings include:

  • In Los Angeles County, with nearly ten million residents and over a quarter of California's population, the marijuana possession arrest rate for blacks is 332% higher than the arrest rate for whites. Blacks make up less than 10% of L.A. County’s population, but they constitute 30% of the marijuana possession arrests.

  • In San Diego and Orange counties, each with about three million residents, the marijuana arrest rates for blacks are 365% and 221% higher than the arrest rates for whites. In San Diego County, blacks are 5.6% of the population but 20% of marijuana possession arrests.

  • In Riverside and San Bernardino counties, each with about two million people, the marijuana arrest rates for blacks are 265% and 255% higher than the arrest rates for whites. In Riverside County, blacks are 6.6% of the population, but 17% of the arrests. In San Bernardino County, they are 9.5% of the population, but 23% of the arrests.

  • Four other heavily populated counties – Santa Clara, Sacramento, Contra Costa, and Fresno – each with a population from just under two million to just under one million, arrest African Americans at double to triple the rate of whites. In Santa Clara County, blacks are less than 3% of the population but 11% of the arrests. In Sacramento County, blacks are 10.4% of the population but 38% of the marijuana possession arrests.

  • Police in other California counties, even those with relatively few blacks or relatively low rates of marijuana arrests, still arrest blacks at much higher rates than whites. African Americans are arrested for marijuana possession at nearly three times the rate of whites in Solano County, and at three to four times the rate of whites in Sonoma, Santa Cruz, and San Francisco counties.
     

Proposed 2012 ballot measure would change Colo. judicial system - The Denver Post

Proposed 2012 ballot measure would change Colo. judicial system - The Denver Post

Even if four state Supreme Court justices survive an attempt to remove them from the bench this election, another effort is underway to seriously alter Colorado's judiciary system.

A proposed ballot measure for the 2012 election would change how Colorado's judges are appointed and how long they could serve. It would trim the number of Supreme Court justices from seven to five and require Senate confirmation hearings for appointees.

The proposal, although a long way from becoming reality, has caused consternation.

"It injects more politics into the system," said Chuck Turner, president of the Colorado Bar Association.

"All you have to do is look at what is happening in Washington today to see how people line up and make this a partisan process," Turner said, referring to U.S. Supreme Court nominations before the Senate.

Those hearings are necessary, Turner said, because U.S. Supreme Court justices typically serve for life. In Colorado, he said, judges come up for "retention" before the voters and can be removed from the bench.

The measure was filed by Dennis Polhill of Golden, a Republican who has filed a number of ballot measures, and Douglas Campbell of Arvada, who has run for statewide office as the American Constitution Party candidate. Campbell also served as former Rep. Douglas Bruce's aide in 2008.

Campbell said he doesn't think Senate confirmation hearings, which would follow committee hearings where the public can testify, would politicize the process.

Polhill said he thinks "modest" changes are needed in a system that is already superior to many states.

"I'm very uncomfortable with the states that have partisan-elected judges," he said.

Colorado's system, in place since 1966, has received national praise. Nonpartisan nominating commissions interview candidates when there is vacancy on the bench and send two or three names to the governor.

The person the governor picks must run in the next general election and again every time his or her term is up.

Coloradans in 2006 rejected term limits for judges, voting down Amendment 40. It would have limited appellate-court justices to a maximum of 10 years on the bench.

This election, the group Clear the Bench Colorado is advocating voters reject all four Supreme Court justices up for retention because of rulings it believes are unconstitutional.

Lynn Bartels: 303-954-5327 or lbartels@denverpost.com


What could change

A ballot measure proposed for the 2012 election would change Colorado's process for selecting judges.

Currently: In case of a vacancy, a nonpartisan nominating commission gives the governor the names of two or three candidates. The governor picks the new judge.

Proposed: The governor could ignore the list and pick someone else. The nominee would have to be confirmed by the state Senate.

Currently: The terms for judges vary, including 10 years for Supreme Court justices and four years for county court judges.

Proposed: All judicial terms would be four years.

Currently: Judges don't have term limits. When their terms expire, voters decide whether to keep them for another term or kick them off the bench. Judges face mandatory retirement at age 72.

Proposed: Judges would still face retention elections, but appellate court judges would be limited to a maximum of 12 years on the bench. Local voters could determine whether to impose term limits for judges in their jurisdiction.

Sunday, July 04, 2010

Medical-marijuana advocates seek society's approval - The Denver Post

Medical-marijuana advocates seek society's approval - The Denver Post

The liquid inside the test tube is neon green, the color of lime Kool-Aid or the mad-scientist potions found only in comic books. Perhaps it's fitting, then, that the contents come with a whiff of danger. They are a mixture of marijuana and solvents, stirred together in a furious swirl by a lab technician wearing protective goggles and latex gloves.

Running the concoction through a $70,000 machine, the technician can learn with scientific precision the plant's unique chemical makeup, its potency, even its growing method.

The ultimate goal? Find out how good it is.

"We're not going to be taken seriously unless we have proof," said Michael Lee, the owner of the lab and its adjacent medical-marijuana dispensary,

Cannabis Therapeutics.

This is the new science of pot, part of a fresh wave of study and innovation among scientists and cannabis advocates all seeking to solve a central dilemma: In Colorado and other states, first came the approval of marijuana as medicine. Next comes the challenge of proving its effectiveness.

The newest research leaves little doubt that marijuana — or at least its chemical components — has promise in alleviating symptoms of some ailments, while also making clear that the drug is not without its drawbacks, some potentially serious.

What is less certain is whether Colorado's medical-marijuana system of dispensaries and caregivers — where commitment to scientific rigor and compassionate patient care is largely voluntary — can maximize that treatment potential for the benefit of patients.

Some dispensaries keep detailed patient records and embrace scientific testing in the hopes of providing patients with what works best. But medical-marijuana users report other dispensaries seem interested in just slinging snazzy weed, regardless of a patient's needs or ailments. (One ad on Craigslist: "Licensed caregiver looking to trade for Widespread Panic tickets.")

The


mainstream medical community, meanwhile, questions whether any system that uses a raw plant as medicine can be optimally effective. Instead, conventional drug researchers see promise mostly in harvesting marijuana's ingredients for more traditional medicines and avoiding consumption methods like smoking that can hurt patients' health.

"If there is any future for marijuana as a medicine," a panel of experts wrote in a landmark 1999 report for the National Academy of Science's Institute of Medicine, "it lies in its isolated components."

Most marijuana advocates enthusiastically embrace a future in which pot is as much an accepted medicine as penicillin. But that future might not come without significant changes to the way medical marijuana is handled. New medicines require new tests and government approvals. Those lead to new regulations and new oversight. There is a focus on standardization, sterility, precision, discipline.

If there were ever a world where marijuana was available behind the counter at the corner pharmacy, the do-it-yourself independence of Colorado's — and many other states' — medical-marijuana system might not have a place. The bud could become obsolete, and dispensaries — both medically inclined and not — could go extinct with it.

Medical-marijuana: Patients clouded in controversy - The Denver Post

Medical-marijuana: Patients clouded in controversy - The Denver Post

The feeling begins as a ripple, nothing more, somewhere deep in her stomach. Quickly, though, comes another. Then another. Soon Deana Martinez's stomach is convulsing, and the whole of her day now hinges on the next moments.

If she vomits, she might not eat for the next 24 hours. She might not even leave the bathroom for much of it. She's 119 pounds. The medications she's taking — 15 different kinds, 25 pills a day to treat her advanced AIDS, her intestinal tie-ups, her constant pain after 21 surgeries — don't work if she can't keep them down.

So she reaches for a glass pipe packed with marijuana, flicks a lighter and inhales deeply.

And that is how Martinez now begins nearly every morning of her life.

"When I smoke," she said, "I stop gagging immediately."

"If I don't medicate right away, I'm puking."

In 2000, stories like Martinez's sold Colorado voters on approving marijuana for use as a medical treatment for certain conditions, including HIV. And for a decade, that's largely how the drug was used.

But in the past year, the number of people legally allowed to use marijuana in the state shot from about 10,000 to more than 90,000 — with 650 new applications and renewals received each day at the state health department.

And most are not like Martinez.

The statistically average patient is male — three-quarters of medical-marijuana patients are, according to the most recently available figures — about 40 years old, living in the Denver metro area and said on his application that he suffers from severe pain. Ninety-two percent of patients listed that catch-all condition — severe pain — as at least one of their reasons for seeking marijuana.

Many within that group use marijuana to treat medical conditions for which more conventional — and more researched — treatments exist. Marijuana works better, they say. They like the idea of naturally grown medicine. They distrust the motives of the pharmaceutical companies and the medical industry in general.

"I know the grower, generally; I know what goes into it," said Naresh Chandranatha, a 20-year-old medical-marijuana patient who said he suffers from Crohn's disease and migraine headaches, neither of which are specifically mentioned on the list of conditions for which Colorado allows marijuana as treatment, but both of which fall in the "severe pain" category. "I would be wary of taking something from a pharmaceutical company that isn't grown naturally."

In some cases, patients may see the dispensary as supplanting traditional health care, while others see the two as working hand-in-hand. And some embrace the new science of marijuana, while others rely on the tribal knowledge of dispensary workers — budtenders, in industry parlance — to guide them to what they hope works best.

"I do usually ask when I go there what's the flavor of the day," medical-marijuana patient Michael Boling said. "And they usually point me to the strongest thing they have."

That is not to say Boling doesn't see himself as an informed patient.

Like many patients, he varies his use between energy-boosting strains in the morning and sleep-inducing ones at night. He eats a marijuana-infused brownie or candy bar when he's looking for long-lasting effects, and he smokes when he's in search of a quicker onset.