The woman had stolen two strawberries and when the judge asked me what her sentence should be I told him: “Give her the chair!”
Her name was Datcher. I forget her first name. It was in Washington DC and, as a newspaper reporter, I had called His Honor during the two-week adjournment. I thought the frivolous suggestion of a death sentence would register my astonishment that a case as piffling as this would ever go to trial. I was wrong.
The judge wasn’t amused and said that the lady’s offense was “very serious”. He ended up giving her 18 months’ probation.
For two strawberries.
That same week the head of Columbia Pictures was convicted of embezzlement. David Begelman had stolen a fortune from his studio’s stars, Judy Garland among them, and Cliff Robertson had finally blown the whistle on him for converting his latest $10,000 check.
That big time crook got a year’s community service which he was permitted to spend making an anti-drug documentary. His penance completed, he crossed the street to become president and CEO of the rival MGM Studios.
Anything wrong with that picture? How about this one:
A young man hands the pharmacist a note demanding narcotics and gets 120 years in the slammer – even though he had no weapon and this was his very first offence. Ricky Kiser, 23, was desperate after his doctor abruptly cut off the highly addictive drugs he’d been prescribing
Virginia judge Joseph Spruill said he’d decided to make an example of the guy. Addicts? That’ll larn ‘em!
But by so doing he created clear grounds for an appeal because a warning to others cannot be the basis of your sentencing. And maybe some who applaud this judge’s ruling overlook one other factor: the public foots the bill for all court proceedings and also the convict’s incarceration. The more trials, the more prison, the more jobs for the boys in the law industry. And the more we all pay.
Some 2½ million of us are behind bars, that’s about eight Americans in every thousand. In other western countries the number is less than one.
Spruill’s isn’t the most bizarre of the over-the-top sentences. Not just draconian punishments for non-violent crimes but ridiculous multiple life terms for serious offences like rape and murder. We just saw Boston’s hatchet man Whitey Bulger given two consecutive life terms plus five years. It makes no sense. Three murderous Somali pirates each received 21 life sentences, 19 of which consecutive.
How does this work? When the miscreant croaks in prison at age 90 do they resurrect him with a jolt of voltage so he can begin his next life stretch and so on?
I know you’re dead, Butch, but the judge said you had to serve another six life terms, so… Bzzzzt!
The penalty scale is crazy. Mandatory mayhem has judges stuffing marijuana smokers into our prisons, causing overcrowding that forces the release of really dangerous bastards far too early. The child molesters .The killers. The sociopaths are out here with us again but rest easy, folks, we do have those vicious pot puffers away in the dungeons. The streets are safe from weedheads
.
A Utah judge accommodates Weldon Angelos, 24, in the Big House for 55 years for selling a pound and a half of grass and immediately calls on President George W. Bush to commute the “cruel, unjust and irrational” sentence the rules have just forced him to apply. Bush ignores him. That’s the Bush who dodged questions of marijuana and cocaine use, reportedly saying: “I don’t want some little kid doing what I tried.”
The drugs issue is a major one nationwide. I’m no big proponent of “substances” but let’s be real. Why, for instance, would five grams of crack cocaine get you five years’ bird, yet you’d have to be caught with 100 times as much of the powdered snortin’ kind to be given that same stretch?
It’s not just the sentencing; the whole system stinks.
How about condemned murderer Andre Thomas who plucked out his only remaining eyeball, ate it and was pronounced by a unanimous nine-member Texas appeals court crazy and also sane. Yep, both. At the same time. Apparently it’s possible to be crackers yet legally not: and you don’t even have to be a member of the Tea Party. Plus they never even asked him how it tasted.
But hey, we hear all the time how our legal system is the best in the world when it most certainly is not. We convict ‘em and then we try ‘em.
Take the Latin phrase sub judice, which means a case is under the auspices of the court. The moment a suspect is charged with a crime the matter may no longer be discussed, especially in the media, until there’s a verdict. The purpose is to avoid poisoning a prospective jury, prejudicing a defendant’s rights by pre-judging him guilty.
Butch butchered them folks sure ‘nough, an’ his sorry ass gits tried Friday. Fry him! Really? Then why even bother to have a trial. Butch is already toast. Buttered. And jelly on top.
In countries that, like ours, adhere to Common English Law sub judice is enforced and those who contravene it are guilty of contempt of court. In the US it isn’t, which is why we so often have a carnival followed by an overturned conviction and a retrial. Lots of hoopla and expensive repeat proceedings and guess who gets all the well-paid work and who foots the bill?
We are also alone in engaging in the curious practice of jury selection – a way to try and fix the verdict, and we saw the result in O.J. Simpson’s famous jury nullification fiasco. Why not just the first twelve off the street, as in other countries? Less business for the justice industry.
Then there’s the plea bargain, some more very American judicial jiu-jitsu, and an easy out for prosecutors. So Butch concedes he roughed those people up but gets away with actually butchering them.
At its most egregious we saw turncoat Mafia torpedo Sammy ‘The Bull’ Gravano confess to 19 killings and haggle his way to just one year in clink for becoming Sammy The Rat. Sure, he helped put away ‘Dapper Don’ John Gotti and other mobsters, but then, while a government protected witness, resumed his life of crime.
There’s something inherently wrong with putting a professional murderer back on the streets. All in the interest of expediency – but not of the public at large. How else to get the goods? Why not try some old-fashioned dogged investigation.
We all know the difference between right and wrong. No question. But wait – in this country there’s also something in between those two absolutes, some wiggle room and it’s all perfectly legal. It’s called nolo contendere, no contest. What on earth is that? Guilty? You bet I am, but I’m sure not telling you!
There is, I know, some ultrafine legal definition for nolo to do with possible future civil litigation. But basically it’s nonsense. I’m no expert, but in my book nolo contendere is nolo excusere. You’re culpable, pal, whether you mince words or not. That non-admission admission is good enough for me, Butch. Off with his head!
© Fred Wehner is a mainstream Fleet Street journalist. He was a reporter and sub-editor with the Daily Mail in London before setting up and running the New York News Agency, providing news and features to daily and weekly publications worldwide. He lives in Georgia..