Although jailors and prison guards are not labeled as police officers, they are equally responsible for those in their custody, and the behavior of some jail and prison officials, appears to be inhumane and totally insensitive toward family members. Just because people are incarcerated doesn’t mean that they have been forgotten. Why are innocent family members subjected to needless pain and suffering? In the majority of cases with problems of notifications, I sense that people would like to know if their relative has died while serving time in a penal institution. There are too many of these unfortunate situations of families not being notified of their loved one’s death. Actually, one is too many. I am going to share a mere two of these cases with you.
Forty-year-old Willie Lee was incarcerated on March 15, 2014, in the Orleans Parish Prison. He was being held in lieu of a $20,500 bond. Nine days later, he was dead. There were conflicting reports of what caused his death. The sheriff’s office reported that Lee had extensive heart problems and died from cardiac arrest. An inmate later reported to Lee’s former girlfriend that the “sudden heart problem” was caused by a beating by inmates, followed by excessive force and lack of medical attention by prison guards. Lee was taken to Interim Louisiana State University Hospital at 10:35 p.m. on March 23, 2014, and pronounced dead at 12:17 a.m. on March 24, 2014. Family members were totally unaware that he had even been injured and taken to the hospital.
In the meantime, Lee’s mother, Margie Lee Hulitt, was busy still raising bail money and trying to contact her son by telephone. Her repeated attempts to reach Willie failed. With every attempt, she would receive the same recorded message that her son had been released. She was confused by that response, because she knew that the family had not yet paid the bond. Ms. Hulitt asked her daughter, a deputy at the prison, to try to contact her brother. His sister looked through the prison computer system for information and received the same notice as her mother—that Willie Lee had been released. As previously mentioned, the notification of her son’s death came indirectly through an inmate contacting Lee’s former girlfriend, who then contacted Ms. Hulitt with the sad news. All that time, officials never bothered to contact the family, who assumed that he was still in custody. Orleans Parish Prison had been under federal investigation related to numerous in-custody deaths. Within a nine-year period after Hurricane Katrina, forty-four inmates suffering from an illness or injury died at Orleans Parish Prison or died at a hospital after being sent there from Orleans Parish Prison.3
In another disgraceful situation, twenty-two-year-old Lonnie Hamilton was incarcerated at Marcy Correctional Facility in New York. After his January 2016 incarceration, Lonnie’s family tried to telephone him for several weeks before seeking his address to write him a letter. On May 6, 2016, they looked on the state’s correctional website to find his address and were shocked to see that he was listed as deceased. Further inquiries revealed that Lonnie Hamilton died on March 18, 2016, and was already buried in a cemetery near the prison. Prison officials told family members that he committed suicide while in solitary confinement and that they were unable to reach family members.4 In this case, New York State’s Department of Corrections and Community Supervision Directive #4013, for administrative responsibility after an inmate’s death, was not followed. An excerpt from the six-page policy, dated November 26, 2013, is as follows:
The prison’s chaplain or Supervising Offender Rehabilitation Coordinator must notify the next of kin or another pre-designated individual of the inmate’s death. If a working telephone number can’t be found, the facility is required to send two certified letters to at least two next of kin or pre-designated individuals. If that proves unsuccessful, it is “recommended” that the facility reach out to local law enforcement officials for help.5
Family members were further horrified by the fact that Lonnie was not embalmed. His body was just put in a box and placed in the prison’s cemetery. There was no opportunity for the family to say good-bye. The chaplain reported trying to contact the father twice, but the cell phone number was not working. The father’s address was still the same one that officials used when they arrested Lonnie at the father’s home, but no certified letter was sent.6
It is interesting that between 2001 and 2014 there was a fourteen-year high of 50,785 prisoner deaths in state and federal prisons, with 45,640 of those prisoner deaths occurring in state prisons. Furthermore, in state institutions, suicide is reported as the leading cause of death. This alarming information was reported by CBS News on August 4, 2015, with the title “Inmate deaths on the rise in United States prisons and jails, says Bureau of Justice Statistics.” I wonder how many families of those persons received timely notifications of the deaths. I venture to caution that a facility’s report of suicide as the cause of death may not necessarily be accurate.
Let’s consider the case of Sandra Bland. I met Geneva Reed-Veal, Sandra’s mother, in St. Louis in 2016. We and several other grieving mothers attended a memorial event hosted by Lezley McSpadden, the mother of Michael Brown. Ms. Reed-Veal spoke of the circumstances surrounding Sandra’s death. She vehemently expressed her belief that her daughter’s death in a Texas jail on July 13, 2015, was a homicide, not a suicide. I share in her belief that there are reasons to be suspicious of the jailor’s report on the cause of her daughter’s death. In fact, one might question why Waller County, Texas, settled a wrongful death lawsuit with the family for $1.9 million if jailors were absolved of responsibility in Sandra’s death. As in most in-custody cases that are eventually settled, there was no admission of wrongdoing.7
The deaths of many other incarcerated individuals are reported as natural causes. In 2011, a United States Department of Justice report cited cancer and heart disease, followed by respiratory disease and AIDS-related deaths, as significant causes of death in local jails and prisons.8 In a different research report, liver disease was reported as the third leading cause of death in these institutions.9 As with any group of statistics, teasing out the facts can be challenging, considering that there can be missing information, conflicting reports, and questions focused on the legitimacy of self-reporting of institutions. People die from natural causes without being incarcerated, so I am not suggesting that all of these deaths are questionable. However, considering the alarming numbers that are reported, one might question the reliability of reasons reported as the cause of death.
As in our case, and the experience of many others, Leslie was not incarcerated at the time of his death. According to data collected between 2003 and 2009, and reported in 2011 from the Bureau of Justice Statistics, 4,813 persons died during or shortly after law enforcement personnel attempted to arrest or restrain them. Also, about 60 percent of those arrest-related deaths, or 2,931, were classified as homicides by law enforcement personnel.10 I can only assume that Leslie’s death was among those numbers.
One would think that police departments would have anticipated that allegations of police brutality could occur and would have developed written proactive strategies to deal with these matters. Of course, even if a written policy is in place, there is no guarantee that behavior will match policy expectations. Because no two situations are identical, it is expected that there could be some variance in the responses. However, especially departments that have experienced in-custody deaths should be prepared with a constructive, consistent response, rather than a reactive one.
Consider the case of Freddie Gray, who died in custody in Baltimore on April 19, 2015. I realize that no two situations are exactly the same, but I must question, “Was there a policy in place in Baltimore to address in-custody death procedures?” On October 3, 2014, the Baltimore Sun reported that over the past four years, more than one hundred people won court judgments or settlements related to allegations of police brutality and civil rights violations.11 Those payments totaled about $5.7 million. From that report alone, it appears that Baltimore should be quite familiar with matters of police misconduct, although not all allegatio
ns resulted in deaths.
Jerriell Lyles was a victim of police misconduct. Fortunately, he lived to tell his story. He had just purchased a carry-out box of chicken. A plainclothes Baltimore officer stopped him, frisked him, and ordered him to get down on the floor. He refused. Lyles later testified that the officer hit him hard. He said, “The blow was so heavy, my eyes swelled up. Blood was dripping down my nose and out my eye.” The officer objected to Lyles’s version but could not explain why he had stopped Lyles or how Lyles got hurt. The result was the city of Baltimore paid Lyles $200,000 in damages. In addition to the $5.7 million previously mentioned, the city paid $5.8 million to law firms. Since 2011, Baltimore has lost or settled more than one hundred cases related to police brutality.12 The Lyles incident, and at least ninety-nine others, preceded Freddie Gray, who died after a neck injury while in police custody. Baltimore reached a $6.4 million settlement with Freddie Gray’s family.13 All six of the officers charged in Gray’s death pleaded not guilty. Three were acquitted at trial, and charges were dropped against the remaining three.14
Procedures in response to in-custody deaths should be clearly stated and included in a written policy manual. There is no excuse for police department personnel to behave as though they are surprised by these occurrences and have no clue of how to respond. The departmental decision makers should not be “running around like a chicken with its head cut off,” an expression used often by my late grandfather. Was there a written policy in Ferguson, Missouri, directing the police department to bring out armored military tanks and assault rifles after an announcement of a planned community march?15 I doubt it.
One might expect that some departments, especially those located in large metropolitan areas, would be well experienced with in-custody deaths. In addition to Baltimore, other cities have had numerous occurrences of police misconduct, including killings of unarmed citizens, in which there is no apparent threat to the lives of officers. Although those cities have a history of these deaths, it appears that they still make the same mistakes over and over again in dealing with these matters. Maybe some of their officers are not making mistakes but are executing intentional actions. Trends of misconduct related to in-custody deaths have prompted investigations from the Department of Justice. Sadly, whether the federal government gets involved seems to be more dependent on the person serving as attorney general, rather than the legitimacy of the claims of police brutality.
Departments may not have any written policies of what to do or who will be responsible for specified actions when an in-custody death occurs. Could it be possible that there are police departments that have never experienced an in-custody death? Even if that is the case, does this mean that they cannot fathom an in-custody death happening in their jurisdiction? Do they perceive their officers to be better trained in avoiding in-custody deaths? When there is no obvious physical danger to officers, why don’t they use critical thinking in the place of deadly force? In so many of those situations, in which officers are not threatened, why does their “split-second” decision end in a citizen’s loss of life? I am merely asking questions predicated upon the mystery of how unarmed citizens posing no threat to the life of an officer can be a victim of these homicides. I don’t need to hear the speech again that officers make split-second decisions. Everyone understands that lives of officers should be protected. I understand that as well, and I support continued life for everyone. Circumstances questioned by many are outside of the scenario in which police officers act in self-defense. Many question instances in which an unarmed citizen is running away from a police officer and is shot multiple times in the back, as in the case of unarmed African American Walter Scott, who was shot and killed while running away from Michael Slager, a white police officer. The fatality occurred on April 4, 2015, in North Charleston, South Carolina.16 What could possibly be the rationale for that homicide? I have pondered that question but still have no answers. Do you?
According to the Bureau of Justice Statistics, there are approximately twelve thousand local police departments. The bureau defines a police department as a general purpose law enforcement agency, other than a sheriff’s office, that is operated by a unit of local government, such as a town, city, township, or county.17 I have no idea how many of these local police departments in the United States have embedded procedures in their policy manuals that deal with in-custody deaths and in-custody injuries. I applaud police departments that have taken these matters seriously, as indicated by their inclusion of directives in their policy manuals. For example, the police department in Urbana, Illinois, is among those that wisely established a policy to address officer-involved deaths of citizens. Its Policy 305, Serious Uses of Force and In-Custody Deaths, was adopted December 30, 2015. The five-page policy provides details for procedures applied to the death or injury of a person by their police officers. This is at least a first step, although there is no guarantee that the directives are followed. The purpose and scope of the Urbana policy states:
The purpose of this policy is to establish policy and procedures for the investigation of an incident in which a person is injured or dies as the result of an officer-involved shooting or dies as a result of other action of an officer.18
In-custody death investigations are one-sided from the beginning. In many cases, there is more than one officer involved. So, the police officers can give their account of what happened, whether factual or not. Even if there is only one officer who made physical contact with the victim, often other officers may have witnessed the altercation. If there is a recording of the incident, the perception of officers may differ from that of others after reviewing the evidence. Unfortunately, the person who had the most accurate knowledge of what happened cannot contribute to the investigation. The voice of the deceased has been silenced. Who will tell that side of what actually occurred?
Will newspaper and television reporters give an accurate accounting of what happened? To answer this question, one first has to examine the source of the information reported by the media. Obviously, reporters are not expected to be everywhere when newsworthy incidents occur, and most of the information the public receives is secondary. In comparison to other situations, we would dismiss such content as “hearsay.”
When an in-custody death occurs, where do newspaper and television reporters go for their information? It is not unusual for news agencies to assign reporters to work exclusively on crime-related stories, or the “police beat.” A typical beat will include cops, courts, and the city council. That assignment can be stressful, challenging, and rewarding. Because of the content, these “beat” newspaper reporters are in a position to write many of the front-page stories.19 For televised breaking news, we usually anticipate that the top anchor person will read the story.
What is the source of the content describing an in-custody death? There is not just one source. However, it is well known how powerful and lasting first impressions are. Those first interviews are critical for establishing the public’s perception of the event and impression of the victim.
More often than not, police department officials are the first to give information to reporters about an in-custody death. Some departments have identified public relations officers for that role. Depending on the anticipated local and national public outcry, the mayor may also speak on behalf of the city and the police department. With larger public protests, the governor may get involved, as in the aftermath of demonstrations in Ferguson, Missouri, and Charlotte, North Carolina.
It would be helpful to have a policy in place and followed to determine which persons are to speak as police department representatives. If there are a number of people with this responsibility, the message should be consistent. In the event that a reporter quickly arrives on the scene, there may be an opportunity to speak to eyewitnesses even prior to receiving a statement from the official department representative. However, some people will absolutely refuse to get involved; others will not speak on camera or
be quoted by name in a newspaper article. Some eyewitnesses may be fearful for their safety, anticipating repercussions from police officers. After witnessing the police kill one citizen, they may wonder who will protect them from the same fate. Did the body of Michael Brown lying in the street for hours serve as an effective vehicle of intimidation?
Accuracy is so important in reporting, and especially in crime reporting, but it may be considered less of a priority than being first to get the exclusive “breaking news” story. Moreover, it is in reporters’ professional best interest to have a good relationship with police officers and officials, and to have fostered a platform of mutual trust. Sometimes that trust can be unconditional. They may accept the accounts of police officers as facts and quickly communicate those “facts” to the public.
The foundation of trust in reporters and police administrators is challenged when their reports are contradicted by video and audio from the scene. In the case of unarmed Walter Scott, for example, the police officer used the common defense that he felt his life was threatened, but the video showed the officer chasing Scott and shooting him five times in the back.20 Yes, there are honest police officers with the highest degree of integrity, but they are probably not the same officers who would shoot an unarmed man in the back.
Like most families, prior to Leslie’s death, we had not been directly involved in an in-custody wrongful death situation. However, Chattanooga was our hometown. During my fifty years of residency there, I had read of experiences with others in dealing with the city’s police department and had developed a sense of caution. I already felt that I should not accept everything Chattanooga police officials said as factual. Like many African Americans in Chattanooga, I was familiar with the negative reputation of its police department. With that background, I approached contact with the police chief with suspicions. Chief Jimmie Dotson was from Texas and had only been in Chattanooga for a short time. I think he was unaware of my long history there and underestimated me as being one who would not question statements he gave to the press. The first newspaper report of Leslie’s death was based on the interview the chief provided.
Excessive Use of Force Page 12
