Feb. 27
TEXAS:
The day I crossed the line to go to jail -- Death penalty activist wanted
'to do something more'
5 days in jail for an act of civil disobedience is not a long time, but it
was long enough to awaken me to the dehumanizing impact of incarceration
on the human soul.
I spent 5 days in the Walker County Jail in Huntsville for "crossing the
line" in front of the Walls Unit during the execution of Anthony Fuentes
on Nov. 17.
My wife, Peggy, and I were standing in front of the prison with about 75
other protesters, including Anthony's grandmother, Ursula, who was shaking
from head to foot with the knowledge of what was about to take place
inside the prison.
I said to myself, "I can't just stand here with my protest sign one more
time. ... I need to do something more." And so I walked past the yellow
crime scene tape that prison officials had stretched in front of the road
to keep the protesters back from the prison during an execution.
The police officers on the other side of the tape warned me that I would
be arrested if I didn't return to the other side of the tape. When I
refused, they promptly handcuffed me and took me away from the other
protesters until the execution was completed. I was then taken to the
Walker County Jail, fingerprinted, photographed, issued jail clothing and
held for about 3 hours until Peggy bailed me out.
My court date was set for Jan. 20. At that time I was given a choice of a
$500 fine or 5 days in jail by the judge. I chose to do the 5 days in jail
as a protest against the death penalty and because I did not want to put
any money into the Walker County coffers, the county where 339 executions
have taken place since the death penalty was resumed in Texas in 1982.
I spent the 5 days in jail in a "tank" with 11 other prisoners, all of
them significantly younger than I am (I'm 63 years old). During this time
in jail, I came to appreciate how dehumanizing prison can be. The tank was
made of steel and concrete and had no windows to the outside, so it was
like being in a dungeon. Privacy was minimal, the noise constant and the
food was bland. However, what was most difficult for me was staying warm.
The jail's heating system was not working and the blanket I had been given
seemed to be of Civil War vintage - tattered around the edges and very
thin.
During my time in jail, I gained a much greater appreciation of what it
would be like to be incarcerated for a long period of time. I have visited
prisoners on Texas death row for many years. Most of them have been in
prison for a long time, awaiting that dreaded execution date to arrive and
hoping that something good might happen in the meantime. I now have a much
better understanding of what they are going through living in a tiny 6
feet by 10 feet cell for 23 hours a day and being disrespected (and
sometimes brutalized) by the guards.
On Texas death row, there is no work program, no group recreation, no
church services and no TV. There are no words to describe these inhumane
conditions other than "cruel and unusual punishment." When we abolish the
death penalty (the day is coming), we must, as a minimum, provide humane
living conditions and opportunities for growth for all the men and women
behind the prison walls if we are to be called a civilized society.
My time in jail reminded me of the words of Eugene Debs that my good
friend, Marta Glass, gave me many years ago:
"While there is a lower class, I am in it. While there is a criminal
element, I am of it, and while there is a soul in prison, I am not free."
Perhaps Marta knew my day would come.
(source: Houston Chronicle, Viewpoints (Atwood, a Houstonian, heads the
Texas Coalition to Abolish the Death Penalty)
*********************
Grand jury indicts EN grad on murder
A recent East Newton graduate has been indicted by a Texas grand jury on
murder charges.
Pvt. Timothy Doan Payne, 18, a native of the Granby area, was indicted in
Bell County, Texas. Payne is in custody near Killeen -- where he was
stationed at Fort Hood -- on a capital murder charge in connection with
the Nov. 26 deaths of Mohamed-amine Rahmouni, 25, of Killeen and his
friend, Haitham Frank Zayed, 28, of Austin. Rahmouni was the manager of a
gentleman's club called Teazers.
The men were found shot to death on Nov. 26 west of Killeen outside of the
city limits. Two days later, the bodies of Tiffany Loraine Dotson, 18, and
her friend, a 16-year-old Alabama runaway identified by family members as
Amanda Benefield, were found in a car off of a rural road near a lakeside
park in central Texas. Ms. Dotson was a dancer at Teazers.
Also in custody is Richard Lee Tabler, 25, who faces 2 capital murder
charges in connection with the 4 deaths.
Texas authorities have speculated that the slayings were out of revenge,
as Rahmouni banned Tabler from the strip club, telling the former customer
that he could have the man and his family killed for as little as $10.
Tabler allegedly lured the men to a rural area near Fort Hood, where he
then allegedly shot them to death.
2 days later, the women were lured to a remote lakeside park between
Nolanville and the Bell County seat, Belton, with the promise of crack
cocaine. The women were shot several times in the head and body.
Authorities have said Tabler had a hit list of at least nine other people,
most of whom are affiliated with the strip club. After club managers were
notified of the first shootings, Teazers was closed down, with dancers and
other workers staying at the guarded home of a manager for 2 days.
According to an arrest affidavit filed Nov. 30, Tabler told authorities
Payne filmed the murder of the 2 men with a video camera. Payne's written
statement collaborated Tabler's that he videotaped the shootings, and that
he helped search the bodies for money and other valuables. The videotape
of the murders was apparently destroyed by Tabler, according to Paul
McWilliams, an attorney with the Bell County District Attorney's Office.
Under Texas law, capital murder charges are filed under the following
circumstances: status of the victim (such as a child under the age of 6,
or a peace officer in the lawful discharge of official duties);
intentional commission of murder during other crimes, such as sexual
assault, robbery, burglary, kidnapping or arson; murder for hire; and
multiple victims.
Therefore, under Texas law, while Tabler is accused of committing 4
murders, he faces 2 capital murder charges. Likewise, although Payne is a
suspect in 2 of the murders, he faces a single capital murder charge.
If a conviction of capital murder is reached, sentencing would include
either life in prison or the death penalty. Life in prison carries a
minimum sentence of 40 years before the inmate can be considered for
parole. Texas does not have life in prison without the possibility of
parole.
Payne is a 2004 graduate of East Newton High School, where he was active
with FFA.
(source : Neosho Daily News)
**********************************
Murder-trial jury being picked
In Denton, jury selection in the capital murder trial of Christopher Swift
could take 4 more weeks, court officials said.
Testimony may begin at the end of March, court officials said.
Jury selection started Jan. 31 for Swift, who faces the death penalty if
convicted.
Swift is accused of killing his wife, Amy Sabeh-Swift, 27, and his
mother-in-law, Sandra Stevens Sabeh, 61, in April 2003. His wife was 8
months pregnant when she was killed. The unborn child also died.
Sabeh-Swift's body was found April 30 in her home at Irving View RV Park
in Irving.
Her mother's body was found the same day at Kingswood Mobile Home Park in
Lake Dallas.
Swift's son, Zachery, who was 5 when his mother and grandmother were
killed, is believed to have witnessed the slayings, police said. He has
been living with relatives, officials said.
The slayings occurred in Dallas and Denton counties, but the cases have
been consolidated, officials said.
Police arrested Swift in Dallas hours after the bodies were found.
(source: Fort Worth Star-Telegram)
********************
Gardner indicted
A man who shot his wife in the head during a domestic dispute was indicted
for capital murder by the Collin County Grand Jury on Thursday, court
records said.
John Steven Gardner, 49, was arrested on Sunday, Jan. 23 after shooting
his wife Tammy Dawn Gardner, 41, at their home in the 9100 block of FM
2862, according to police records.
Gardner's capital murder charge means if he is found guilty, he could
receive a life sentence or the death penalty, according to the Texas Penal
Code.
Tammy Gardner called 911 just a few minutes before 911 and told police she
had been shot during a domestic dispute. Police arrived on the scene and
found she had been shot in the head. She was Careflighted to Parkland
Hospital in Dallas where she remained in critical condition until she was
taken off life support the following Monday.
John Gardner was arrested Wednesday, Jan. 26 in Laurel, Miss. and returned
to Collin County to face murder charges. He is currently being held in the
Collin County Detention Center on a $500,000 bond.
According to clippings from the Laurel Leader Call in Laurel, Miss.,
Gardner had been charged and convicted for shooting his first wife, Rhoda
Gardner, 18, on Dec. 13, 1982 multiple times in the neck and stomach in a
parking lot with a .45 caliber automatic handgun.
Gardner had stolen the handgun from the friend he was staying with at the
time of the shooting, court transcripts said.
Police said in the story the shooting was the result of a domestic
dispute.
Gardner turned himself in to sheriff's deputies the follow day and was
charged with aggravated assault, the story said. He later pled guilty and
was sentenced to 8 years in the State Penitentiary on May 3, 1983, his
sentence order said.
Rhoda Gardner died nearly 2 months after the shooting from a "brief
illness," according to an obituary that ran in the Leader Call on Feb. 3,
1983. Gardner was a native of McAllen, and lived in Laurel for 15 years.
(source : The McKinney Courier-Gazette)
**********************
Longtime UT professor who wrote Texas juvenile code dies
Robert "Mad Dog" Dawson, who spent half his life teaching law at the
University of Texas and helped remake the state's juvenile justice system
into a national model, has died. He was 65.
Dawson, who continued teaching as he battled lung cancer, taught his last
criminal law class Feb. 17. He died Saturday at his farm in Fentress,
surrounded by his family and his law books.
"It's like one of the planets has gone out of orbit," said criminal
defense lawyer David Sheppard, who studied under Dawson 30 years ago and
later taught beside him. "He was just that important to everybody."
A lover of horses, Dawson was a giant in the obscure field of equine law.
He and his wife taught an equine law class together at UT.
Per Dawson's request, his ashes will be mixed with old horse stall bedding
and scattered by manure spreader on pastures at the farm. "They will make
good fertilizer for the hay crop," he wrote before his death.
Over the course of more than three decades at UT, Dawson worked to give
his students real-world experience, founding the school's Criminal Defense
Clinic in 1974. The clinic lets 3rd-year students represent criminal
defendants in court under the guidance of professors.
Dawson also wrote the state's juvenile justice laws in 1973, then worked
with lawmakers to draft a wholesale revision in 1995. The result was a
juvenile system that replaced adult-style punishment with programs aimed
at turning young offenders into responsible citizens.
More recently, he started a program in which students try to find and
assist innocent people who had been convicted of crimes and sent to
prison.
In his spare time, Dawson wrote a 10-chapter text for what become the
Actual Innocence Clinic, now in its 4th semester.
"He just saw this thing as an adventure," clinical law professor Bill
Allison told the Austin American-Statesman for Sunday's editions. "His
enthusiasm was just infectious."
At the beginning of each semester, he would tell his first-year students
that during his time as a prosecutor in Washington, D.C., he had earned
the nickname "Mad Dog." When a student's answer didn't satisfy him in
class, he would lean forward and say, "Mad Dog wants more."
"He genuinely cared how we developed not just as law students but as
members of the community," said Zeke Derose, who was in Dawson's class
last semester.
Dawson grew up in Vandalia, Mo. and graduated Phi Beta Kappa from the
University of Missouri-Columbia in 1960. He arrived in Austin in 1967.
In 1983, he married his 3rd wife, Jan, who teaches in the equine program
at Texas State University-San Marcos and introduced horses to Dawson.
Arrangements were pending with Weed-Corley-Fish Funeral Home. A memorial
service was scheduled for April 2 at 2 p.m. at UT's LBJ Auditorium.
(source: Waco Tribune-Herald)
***********************
County jails unaware of mentally ill inmates' needs
A significant number of mentally ill inmates in Texas' county jails could
be cycling through the system without jail administrators ever becoming
aware of their special medical needs, according to a recent study released
by the Texas Commission on Jail Standards.
In the small-scale study - conducted by the Texas Correctional Office on
Offenders with Medical or Mental Impairments (TCOOMMI) - the number of
clients of the state mental health system whose illness was never noted by
jail staff nearly doubled the number of inmates with a recorded mental
health diagnosis.
According to Lubbock County Sheriff David Gutierrez, the study raises
important questions about how the criminal justice system treats the
mentally ill.
If no one - including the jail, defense attorney or prosecutors - knew
about an inmate's mental illness, the question becomes, "Were they
competent to stand trial?" Gutierrez asked.
Gov. Rick Perry named Gutierrez the presiding officer of the Jail
Standards Commission in December.
For the study, TCOOMMI collected standardized health status reports from
100 inmates processed at three county jails last March. The reports, which
are mandated by the state, provide a uniform method for documenting
inmates' medical conditions.
Fifteen inmates had a mental health diagnosis noted, but 29 other inmates
lacked a diagnosis even though TCOOMMI verified through a database
maintained by Mental Health/Mental Retardation that they were past or
current clients of that state agency.
Although the study involved a relatively small number of inmates, TCOOMMI
Director Dee Wilson called the study's results "eye-opening, especially to
see that many people without any diagnosis."
The system currently relies on jail staff to make diagnoses at intake and
then to alert the nearest regional MHMR center to make a mental health
assessment. The study suggests, though, that many mentally ill inmates are
currently slipping through the cracks, she said.
TCOOMMI is recommending a change in intake procedures that will give
jailers better information about an inmate's mental condition. Recommended
changes include either allowing jailers access to portions of MHMR's
computerized database or establishing a 24-hour MHMR hotline for jailers
to call.
The reforms would address communications problems that sometimes occur
between sheriff's offices that operate 24 hours a day, seven days a week
and MHMR centers which keep office hours. Lubbock Regional MHMR Center has
an employee always on hand to answer its 24-hour crisis hotline, according
to spokeswoman Beth Moore.
Every regional MHMR center maintains a 24-hour crisis line, but some
centers contract with an answering service during parts of the day, she
said.
The database won't identify everyone receiving mental health care because
many people seek private care, "but it will give you a better baseline,"
Wilson said.
And it will improve the current situation where "if you ask somebody how
many people with mental illness are in jail, they won't be able to tell
you," she said.
In Lubbock County, Lubbock MHMR has a written agreement with the Sheriff's
Office that calls for MHMR staff to assess inmates as needed by jail
staff. Depending on the risk the inmate poses to himself or others, the
inmate can receive an assessment as soon as one hour after the jail calls,
according to Moore.
The agreement delineates the responsibilities of each agency in
identifying and diverting mentally ill prisoners to either the jail or to
a hospital like University Medical Center or Sunrise Canyon Hospital for
treatment.
The agencies' memorandum of understanding was highlighted by the Jail
Standards Commission as a practice that should be adopted statewide.
In addition, Gutierrez trained 24 deputies about 2 or 3 years ago to
become certified mental health peace officers because it "is crucial that
officers on the street or people in the jail are able to recognize the
symptoms in these individuals, such as erratic behavior or not thinking
and talking logically," he said.
Gutierrez said he will probably train another batch of officers on dealing
with mentally ill suspects or patients sometime soon. A future training
session would be open to other law enforcement agencies on the South
Plains.
In recent weeks, Gutierrez has been working with the governor's office to
incorporate more training on mental health issues for all of Texas'
80,000-plus peace officers, he said.
Diagnosing mental health patients and diverting them to facilities where
they can receive treatment benefits jail staff by reducing attacks on
jailers, he said.
"I believe there's a direct relationship between undiagnosed mental health
problems and assaults on deputies or incidents of erratic behavior," he
said.
Lives might also hang in the balance. Gutierrez pointed out that 125
suicides have occurred in county jails over the past 5 years, including 2
in Lubbock County.
"I would dare say a good portion of these had mental health issues," he
said.
(source: Lubbock Avalanche-Journal)
*************************
Study: Conditions worsen jail illnesses -- Inadequate infirmary, 'crude'
dental unit among listed problems
The physical conditions in the Dallas County Jail actually exacerbate
illnesses among inmates and "are so unsafe for some persons that they are
life-threatening," a new study of the jail's health programs says.
The study, requested by county officials, argues that although serious
shortages in medical and guard staff add to the difficulties, many of the
dangerous problems stem from the dire physical conditions in which inmates
are housed and treated.
These include cellblocks that allow only verbal communication and not
physical examinations of patients by medical staff, an infirmary whose
cells are "physically separated from the nursing station by a winding maze
of corridors," and a "crude" dental unit for tooth extractions outfitted
with no sink and only hand tools.
The study also suggests that the majority of inmates held in suicide
prevention cells are not likely to be suicidal but merely are there for
punishment or because they're intoxicated.
The physical conditions and staffing situation are so severe that most
staff members have "a survival mentality" and "see their main purpose as
trying to address the emergency of the day rather than being engaged in a
health care program," the study said.
The conditions and poor health care cause some inmates to return to the
community and potentially infect others with tuberculosis, sexually
transmitted diseases and other illnesses. Or, in the case of inmates with
mental illness, the lack of consistent medical care and medication,
combined with the dangerous housing conditions, cause them to be released
with their conditions untreated, which leads them often to repeat the
behavior that sent them to jail in the first place, setting up a revolving
door at the jail.
About 90,000 people were incarcerated in the county jail in 2004. Since
winning a contract in 2002, the University of Texas Medical Branch has
handled the jail's medical care.
Needs highlighted
The report was funded by the Meadows Foundation and requested by County
Judge Margaret Keliher, who said the results have "highlighted that we
have to address health care in the jail."
She said that in the case of mentally ill inmates, efforts must be made to
find alternatives to jail, such as a new divert court program, which
directs arrestees into special care programs in the community instead of
the jail.
Though the county received the report Feb. 1, officials have yet to make
it public. The Dallas Morning News obtained a copy Tuesday.
The study was produced by Health Management Associates and written by Dr.
Michael Puisis, a specialist in correctional health who has held top
medical positions with Cook County Hospital in Chicago and New Mexico's
corrections system. Dr. Puisis, who spent 8 days at the jail documenting
the problems, said he could not comment without permission from the
county.
Physical barriers
UTMB officials agreed with the major finding of the report, arguing that
the physical barriers of the jail facility make it harder for health staff
to provide adequate care.
"The Dallas County Jail is an older structure with significant plant
limitations. We'd be supportive of any changes that would allow us greater
access to and visibility of patients," said Dr. Owen Murray, medical
director of correctional health care services for UTMB.
In his report, Dr. Puisis noted that despite being so understaffed, the
jail employees "work extremely hard in a very challenging environment with
a dedication I found admirable. I hope they are able ... to separate the
criticisms of the program from their clinical dedication to their work."
Dr. Murray agreed that the physical conditions in the jail, along with a
dearth of jail guards to escort medical staff, have deeply affected morale
among the health-care staff. He said there is "a great deal of frustration
and anxiety" among workers, and noted that a recent UTMB audit of staffing
needs recommends that the county add about 50 positions to the jail health
staff.
Conditions deteriorate
There are "significant physical barriers to inmates' access to mental
health and medical care in the Dallas County Jail," the report said.
"Housing arrangements ... actually promote deterioration" of medical
conditions.
For inmates housed in closed behavior-observation cells, "treatment is
further worsened because clinical staff are not permitted any contact
except verbal contact with the inmate through the food port," a small
opening in the cell door to pass food into the cell. If a clinician wants
to evaluate the patient outside the cell, a second jail guard must be
present, and since they are so hard to come by, "inmates are rarely, if
ever, examined out of the cell."
The "extreme forced physical isolation" of mentally ill inmates placed in
closed observation cells "harms them. ... It appears that the primary
clinical consideration is prevention of suicide. Therapy is not a
priority."
Infirmary lacking
The report sharply criticizes the jail's current infirmary. It describes
the industry standard for jail infirmaries as a designated area where
inmates are within sight and sound of a health professional and managed by
a registered nurse 24 hours a day.
But the Dallas jail infirmary is a "complex maze of 19 separate housing
units, almost all of which are out of sight or sound of nurses. ... Nurses
cannot look into any single cell unit from their station. Most of the
cells are physically separated from the nursing station by a winding maze
of corridors."
In addition, patient-inmates place "kites," or requests for care, rather
than nurses checking on them daily, as is the practice in a typical
infirmary. "The level of services is minimal," the report said.
The dental unit, meanwhile, "consists of a single chair and light, both
... in poor repair," the report said. "The room is not clean. The only
procedure performed is extractions. There is no sink, no equipment except
hand tools, and no receptacle for the patient to expectorate. ... The
dentist works with rudimentary tools and equipment. This situation is very
crude."
(source : Dallas Morning News)
