If you haven’t the moral courage to hear that and consider what should be done about it, then go somewhere else: you’re not going to be happy reading this blog post.  (Be sure to stay away from Injustice Everywhere, too.)

On April 11, Bobby Frederick posted an article about something that, one day, is probably going to get me killed: Contempt of Cop. With a link to video.

The next day, before I could get around to blogging about Frederick’s revelation, came this story about police essentially stopping people at will and searching them.  Fourth Amendment?  What Fourth Amendment?  Oh, yeah.  In case you didn’t follow the link: that story had another video.

The next day, Brian Tannebaum steps in with an analysis of the script cops use when they violate the law regarding stopping and arresting people.  Brian’s script, accompanied by video, boils down to this:  Lather, Rinse, Repeat.

As Brian points out, this sort of thing isn’t new.  Police officers sincerely believe themselves to be in charge of the world.  The law doesn’t apply to them, because they are the law.  So you can’t question them, and you don’t get in their way.

It doesn’t matter if you’re driving a stricken patient to the hospital in an ambulance. (Video.)  It doesn’t matter if you’re an innocent victim and called the police for help.  (Video.)  It doesn’t matter if you’re lying on the ground with a broken back.  (Yep, video.)  Or if you’re already a paraplegic.  (Video.)  It doesn’t matter if your hands are cuffed behind your back.  (Video.)  Or if you’re cuffed and several officers have you pinned to the ground.  (Video.)  Sometimes, if you’re lippy, you just have to be handled, even if you’re only 15. (Video.)  Or 5 (yes, that’s five).  (Video.)  Or 62.  (Video.)  Or 87.  (Video.)  Or if you’re in your home.  (Video.)  You might just be out for a bicycle ride.  (Video.)  It doesn’t matter if you’re mentally challenged.  (Video.)  It doesn’t matter how smart you are.  (Allegedly there is video, but I can’t find it; another story alleging there is video.)  It doesn’t matter if you’re a reporter doing your job.  (Video.)  It doesn’t even matter if you’re not the person they were looking to beat.  (No video.)  It doesn’t matter if you’re one of their own.  (Video.)  Heck, sometimes they get so confused, they even attack themselves!  (Video and video.)

Sorry.  I had to make the last two links to something funny.  After watching hours of police  attacking people on video — I couldn’t stop myself; it’s like watching the great train wreck of the republic — I just had to add the funny ones.

But it doesn’t really help.  Because as Scott Greenfield noted, the day following Brian’s post, referring to the video Brian posted:

The video, and the story surrounding the video, still suggests that it’s an isolated incident. But for the video, this would be just another story about a beaten kid complaining about cops without any evidence to back him up. This isn’t to say that the police are wrong in every instance, but that the police can no longer wrap themselves in the presumption of being the good guys. The question remains, when a video like this goes viral amongst the general public and mainstream media, how to make clear that this isn’t an isolated incident?

How?  Because, truthfully, we’re not nutcases.  It is not an isolated incident.  They are not isolated incidents.  There are (at least) hundreds of them which have been videotaped.  There are thousands of them reported.  They are part of a pervasive culture of power, the natural outcome of an “us versus them” way of life.  The script Brian delineated has become so common that many — and not just defense attorneys — now know it by heart.

Especially items 4 and 5 from the script, both of which can be summed up by saying, wait until “the investigation” (which we, the police, will conduct and/or control), before “jumping to conclusions.”  Wait until we have rallied our troops, put our heads together, to come up with some explanation that will have some modicum of plausibility.

Angry that anyone would question their “split-second decisions,” the law enforcement “community” said it was wrong to jump to conclusions before the details of the investigation were complete. The sheriff defended the police publicly before any investigation even started, so he apparently was jumping to conclusions, but never mind. The consensus: calm down and wait for the department to see what happened. (Steven Greenhut, “The Militarization of American Police” (March 2008) The Freeman: Ideas on Liberty, vol. 58, issue 2.)

And we will do this.  We will wait.  We will criticize and try to silence anyone who states the obvious.  Because not to do this means to recognize the truth: that our police officers can no longer be trusted at their word.  Yes, they do protect us from the bad guys — well, the bad guys who don’t wear police uniforms.

But, increasingly, the bad guys wear uniforms.

See, the days when the uniforms designated the good guys — those were the old days.  (I’m not so naive as to think of them as the “good old days“; they are merely the old days.)  A different breed of police officer walks the beat.  Well, actually, they no longer walk.  And “the beat” has become “the beatdown.”

Police officials always depict their officers as reluctant warriors who rarely, if ever, use or even brandish their weapons. But this is a fiction from the past. Officers tell me the old-school guys are mostly gone and that the new breed of cop has a military mentality and often a military background. The SWAT-team members are the ones who do the training and get promoted to top positions in the departments.

There’s plenty of anecdotal evidence that police are far from reluctant to pull their weapons or feel much remorse when they do. After Riverside police gunned down a sleeping girl named Tyisha Miller in a car in 1998 (she had a gun in her lap, was unconscious, and after police smashed her window, she moved and they immediately opened fire), the officers involved in the shooting stood around, joked, and animatedly reenacted the shooting, according to Los Angeles Times reports. One of the officers commented, “This is going to ruin their Kwanzaa,” after upset family members showed up at the scene. One local man arrived at the scene of another officer-involved shooting and reported that the police were high-fiving each other. (Greenhut, supra.)

In the streets, the police are in control.  Anyone who doubts it needs merely to start clicking some of the videos I linked near the beginning of this article.  In the courtroom, though, citizens, jurors — or, as the militarized police call us, “civilians” — are still in control.

Therein is found the answer to what we can do about this.  There, in the courtroom, is where we can start to tear down the “us versus them” mentality, by refusing to buy into it ourselves.  As Scott noted,

This isn’t about fostering public hatred of police…. This is about healthy skepticism, the end of blind faith.

We start to eliminate the “us versus them” mentality by reminding ourselves — and through our healthy skepticism, the police — that “they” are no different than “us.”  “They” are human beings who will, like “us,” sometimes lie when it is in their own best interest to do so.  The words of law enforcement witnesses must be heard and examined with at least the same healthy skepticism that we apply to the words of other — “civilian” — witnesses.

The only way to stop the great train wreck of the republic is to remember that it’s not a matter of “us versus them.”  We’re all on this train together.  Fundamentally, we’re all the same in our drives, our motivations, and our willingness to paint the picture of a world where we are always right.  But officers must hold themselves, and be held, to a higher standard, because our republic cannot survive if we cannot trust those whose job it is to enforce its laws.

First, let me be clear about something, because every time I write about police abusing their authority, it seems the police supporters come crawling out of the woodwork.  In Fresno, as with much of the Central San Joaquin Valley, the police can do no wrong, even when they do.  Having said that, this post is not my own personal pronouncement that the jury screwed up and let a guilty man go free.  I actually don’t know if that’s true. 

I am, however, going to talk about what the newspaper has reported, throw in a few comments from things I’ve heard from attorneys who are more familiar with the facts, and express my opinion.

Well, okay, I’ve already started expressing my opinion: In Fresno, as with much of the Central San Joaquin Valley, the police can do no wrong, even when they do. 

As I said, though, I wasn’t involved with this case.  I didn’t attend the trial.  I only read what was in The Fresno Bee.  And I know full well that The Fresno Bee seldom gets the story right when it comes to our courts.

Yet it is worth noting that the failure of a jury to convict does not an innocent man make.  Juries are not called on to decide innocence: they’re called on to decide guilt.  So when they decide someone is not guilty, they are saying only that guilt was not proven beyond a reasonable doubt.   They are not saying someone is innocent.  That is not something within their power to do.

As Michael Idiart, a well-respected local criminal defense attorney has noted:

[J]uries read about violent crime in Fresno and are inclined to believe police officers over people portrayed by the defense as gang members.

“A lot of jurors just believe police have a difficult job and criminals have it coming to them.”  (Pablo Lopez, “Jury acquits former Fresno officer” (January 26, 2010) p. A6, col. 4, quoting Michael Idiart.)

Marshall Hodgkins, speaking like the good criminal defense lawyer that he is, felt his client had been vindicated — although, remember, he was only found not guilty — and said that a half-courtroom filled with police officers had no impact on the jury:

This was one of the most analytical juries I have ever seen.  (Jim Guy, Pablo Lopez and George Hostetter, “Police chief orders two reviews” (January 26, 2010) p. A6, col. 2, quoting Marshall Hodgkins.)

In an attempt to thwart the jury’s analytical skills, the judge in the case ordered that the police officers filling the courtroom in support of their accused comrade could not wear uniforms or carry guns, except when testifying.  (The uniforms and guns are necessary when testilying to give the officers’ words extra authority, just in case a Fresno jury was inclined to doubt their veracity.)  The jurors were therefore incapable of linking the large number of broad shoulders, short haircuts, their demeanor and the fact that they sat behind the accused officer to a strong police presence.

The truth is, though, that this episode is not just good news for the modern police man (and woman).  It’s good news for all of us. 

With officers no doubt feeling emboldened by the refusal of Fresno County’s submitizens to ever convict an officer for wrongdoing — this is the second officer acquitted despite fairly strong evidence that something isn’t quite right here — the day may be almost upon us when officers will commit their crimes more openly.

Because what this acquittal convinces me of — whether this officer is factually culpable or not — is that until the abuse reaches “ordinary” submitizens and not just those the police can convincingly argue are ‘gang members,” police misconduct will continue to be a fact of life in Fresno.

Doris Daudy, a woman of approximately 38 years old, was walking north on Maroa toward her home just north of the Tower District.  Her purse was slung over one shoulder, her arms wrapped around grocery bags.  She never minded the walk; it was just a few blocks.  And although there was an occasional purse-snatching in the area, she’d walked this route for years without problems and felt perfectly safe.

Sam cut across the lawn at the end of the block, hoping to save himself a few seconds, and accidentally ran smack into Doris, knocking her to the ground.  Her groceries flew out of the bag, which miraculously was not ripped, and her purse spilled open.

Sam immediately began apologizing.  “I’m so sorry, ma’am!  I’m so very sorry!,” he said as he helped Doris to her feet.  “It’s just that I’m late for work and if I don’t get there on time my boss is going to fire me for sure!”

Doris knew the gut-wrenching feeling that went with not being able to make the bills because she or her husband were temporarily unemployed.  And she wasn’t really hurt.  She assured Sam that everything was fine as she started to collect her groceries and put them back into the back.  For his part, Sam was scrambling to help pick up her things, frantically stuffing spilled items back into her purse and worrying about how much later he was going to be now.  But he couldn’t run off without making sure she was okay.

Sam handed Doris her purse, continuing to apologize and brushing some leaves off Doris’s shoulder.

“Go on,” Doris said.  “I’m fine.  Really.  You don’t want to lose your job.”

Until a while after Doris got home, neither Sam nor Doris realized that when her purse spilled open, her wallet fell into the storm drain.

When Doris realized her wallet was missing, she didn’t really believe Sam had taken it.  She didn’t know Sam, but he had seemed so apologetic and nice.  But her husband insisted that she call the police.

“What else could have happened to it?,” he asked.

                                        * * * * *

Officer Steve “Stumper” Stevens was familiar with many people in the Tower District.  After getting Doris’s story and a description, he immediately knew who Sam was and went to his workplace to question him about “the assault on Doris and the theft of her wallet.”  Of course, he didn’t actually use these words with Sam.  Officer Stevens was smarter than that.

Officer Stevens asked Sam if he knew Doris.  Sam and Doris had not exchanged names and Sam didn’t know her, so he immediately confirmed Officer Stevens’ suspicions when he denied knowing Doris.

“Do you recall knocking a woman down earlier near Maroa and Floradora?,” Stevens asked.

“Oh.  Oh, uhm, that.”  Sam was caught off-guard.  Why would a police officer come to talk to him about accidentally knocking someone down?  The woman had assured him she was alright.  He made sure of it before he left her!  “Yes,” Sam said.

“And did you have her purse?,” Stevens asked.

“Well, uh, yes.  I helped pick everything up and gave it back to her.”

“What happened to the wallet?” Stevens asked.

“The wallet?”

“Yes, the wallet.  Did you give her back her wallet?”

“Uh…I…well…I must have.  I just picked everything up, put it in the purse and gave it back to her.  I was trying to help!”  Sam was nervous.  Officer Stevens wasn’t just asking questions.  It sounded like the officer didn’t believe him.  He seemed to think Sam had stolen the lady’s wallet.  For his part, Sam was stumped.  He knew he didn’t steal anything.  So when Officer Stevens told him he had the right to remain silent, the right to have an attorney and — as he would later tell his Public Defender — “whatever else he said,” all he could think is that he wanted to do whatever it took to convince the officer he had not done anything.

After “mirandizing” Sam, Officer Stevens ran through the questions again.  Sam gave the same story as before.  Officer Stevens told Sam he was arresting him for robbery.

“Robbery!”  Sam’s head was spinning.  “But I didn’t do anything!  I swear I didn’t take that lady’s wallet!”

                                        * * * * *

Sam’s public defender, Shirley Singer, sat across from Sam at the Juvenile Justice Campus where he was being held.  At the perfunctory detention hearing three days earlier, the District Attorney had argued that Sam was “a danger to the community” because he had “viciously” knocked “a helpless middle-aged woman, her arms full of groceries,” to the ground before stealing her wallet.  The judge agreed this behavior was egregious.  As far as the judge was concerned, Sam was “a danger to himself or to the community” and he was ordered detained.  A trial confirmation date was set.  Shirley was here to discuss “the facts of the case,” including the police report.

As Shirley read the report, she noted that, at least according to Officer Stevens, Sam had “admitted” to knocking “the victim” to the ground and taking her purse.  Sam had also “admitted” that he did not return the wallet.

“That’s not what I said!”  Sam was upset.  Shirley didn’t know whether to believe him or not.  She knew, however, that it actually did not matter.  Ultimately, if this was what the police report said, Shirley knew this was likely to be the testimony of the officer.  Sam’s denial of an admission was going to look self-serving.

Shirley knew that the judge was likely to accept the word of the police officer over that of Sam, the only other witness to the conversation.

After all, why would the officer lie?  Sam’s denial of the admission was self-serving.  But there was no way the officer’s assertion that Sam had admitted this crime to him was.

But, hey, this is just a story, right?  Things like this don’t really happen.  So go ahead, talk to the police.  Help yourself to a conviction.

Or you can watch this video of a police officer explaining why there’s nothing you can do to help yourself, once a police officer starts to question you.

What I can’t understand is why the general public still wants to take the word of police witnesses over that of other witnesses whenever an accused person goes to trial.

I’m not saying necessarily we have to have less faith in police witnesses than other witnesses.  But, clearly, we should assess what they have to say the same way we’d assess other witnesses.  Police officers are not living up to the standard we should expect of them.

Before I became an attorney, I believed that 95% of officers were good, decent, hard-working and honest.  I believed most were heroes fighting hard to protect us and make us safe.  Five percent, I believed were bad.

After a few years of working criminal cases, I now believe that all police officers will lie on the stand if they feel it is important to help the case.  Most police officers will tell the truth, unless they think by telling the truth the case will be hurt, or unless they think by telling a lie it will help the prosecution.  Even the most trustworthy police officers I’ve seen on the stand seem unable to resist “spinning” their testimony.

I only wish I could quit hearing prospective jurors tell me that they put more faith in the testimony of a police officer than a non-police officer.  Police officers are paid to help obtain convictions.  It’s part of their jobs to testify.

And they aren’t testifying to help the accused person be found not guilty.