August 7 NEW YORK: Where Killers Are Out of Style THE lions aren't lying down with the lambs yet at the Bronx Zoo, but New York is becoming an increasingly peaceable kingdom. With the year more than half over, it appears the number of homicides in the city may fall below 500 for the first time since 1961, when the subway fare was 15 cents and Roger Maris hit 61 home runs. If that happens, this could be the first year in nearly half a century when more New Yorkers kill themselves than are murdered, as well as the 1st time since then that New York's murder rate, the number of murders per 100,000 people, is lower than that of the nation as a whole. At the peak in 1990, 2,245 murders were committed in New York. Whatever has driven down the murder rate since then - and no one is sure what that is - the drop raises 2 intriguing questions: Given the dwindling number of victims, who typically is killed? And, considering that even the first family in biblical Eden had a 1 in 4 chance of being slain, just how low will human nature let the murder rate go? Today, random murders are way down: strangers commit just 16 % of murders, down from 33 percent in 1991 (about 45 random murders were committed through July of this year, compared with 710 in all of 1991). Murders committed during robberies and burglaries have declined, too, to 11 % today from 16 % in 1991 (or about 31 deaths so far this year compared with 344 then). Both declines appear to be largely attributable to a greater police presence, fewer guns and the decrease in random violence in the city that came with the waning of the crack epidemic (fewer bystanders are being shot in drug wars; fewer store clerks are being killed in robberies committed by crack addicts). In general, murder discriminates; you're much more likely to be a victim in New York if you're black and male. The most likely murder candidate is a black man with a criminal record, from the age of 25 to 40, outdoors on a weekend in Brooklyn and confronted by an angry 18- to 24-year-old friend, acquaintance or relative who is a former convict and is wielding a gun. "If you're not in that group, your chances of being murdered are minimal," Police Commissioner Raymond W. Kelly said. Joshua Cohen, a senior researcher at Harvard's Center for Risk Analysis, said that a black man is about 36 times more likely to be murdered than a white woman. Last year, New York's 570 murder victims included 327 blacks (277 men and 50 women), 157 Hispanics and 66 whites (14 women). This year, about 11 % of murder victims have been white. Homicides are not declining because of some certainty that the police would find the killers. About 40 % of murders go unsolved, a proportion that has remained pretty much the same for decades. And murder remains the leading cause of death among New Yorkers 15 to 34 years old. "Can you get away with murder?" Commissioner Kelly said. "Yes, the clearance rate shows it." Analyses by Eric Monkkonen of the University of California, Los Angeles, found that at least 100 people have been killed in New York City annually since 1898. The toll passed 200 in 1906, 300 in 1920, 400 in 1929, 500 in 1931. The peak in 1990 came at the height of the crack epidemic, when scores of bystanders were killed by stray bullets, and drugs figured in about 40 % of murders, compared with about 24 % today. But if, in 1990, the question was how high the number could go, today the question is how far it can fall. James Alan Fox, a criminologist at Northeastern University, analyzed the range of murder rates in the nation's 40 biggest cities and adjusted for demographic factors - primarily for race, which correlates with poverty and fragile family structure, both good predictors for crime. His model, based on how murder rates have fluctuated in all the major cities, suggests that the number of murders in New York could range from 2,407 in a very bad year to 385 in a very good one. Those numbers are statisical abstractions, of course, not irrational flesh-and-blood human beings. In fact, it is possible that murders could fall even below 385. But in a city of 8 million souls, in which more than 55,000 violent crimes took place last year, statistics and history, logic and experience, argue that some number murders will inevitably take place, whether committed by calculating criminals, impassioned lovers or a men having an argument in a bar. "Could it go lower?" said Mr. Fox. " Yes. Is 385 doable? That's pretty low. It would put you at a rate where the only one that would be lower is Honolulu. I don't think it's going to happen. I call it the criminal justice limbo stick. The closer you get to the minimum the harder it is to reach it." One reason to hope the number of murders will continue to fall is that, armed with an increasingly sophisticated computerized crime database called Compstat, the police are learning more about who gets killed and why, and can try to pre-empt murder. They have learned, for example, that if they stop enough people for minor offenses, frisk them and impose mandatory sentences for gun possession, word spreads pretty quickly (which may also explain why a growing proportion of murders these days are being committed with knives). Take complaints of domestic abuse more seriously, and fewer spouses and partners will become homicide victims (a Health Department study found that more than half of murdered women are killed in their homes, a third by their intimate partners). Stake out social clubs on Saturday nights, and you can intervene before a fight becomes fatal. "It is still possible to reduce the number of murders," said Thomas A. Reppetto, president of the Citizens Crime Commission. He pointed out that the annual number of murders in Manhattan recently dipped below 100 for the 1st time since the 19th century. Hardly anybody noticed. (source: New York Times) ALABAMA: Sentencing is ripe for reform, needs financial support It's embarrassing that U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals Judge Bill Pryor used his home state, Alabama, as an example of the disastrous effects of unsound sentencing practices in a speech last week to state legislators from across the South. At the same time, however, Pryor's address to the Southern Legislative Conference in Mobile offered an insider's view of how things went wrong in Alabama -- and what the state should do to improve. Pryor was Alabama attorney general before his appointment last year to the federal bench. A conservative hard-liner on crime, he was never the kind of official who could be accused of coddling lawbreakers. But Pryor also is an intelligent man who understands that the approach to criminals favored for many decades by leading elected officials in Alabama -- "lock 'em up and throw away the key" -- makes no practical sense. In Alabama, here's what has happened: Between 1930 and 1980, the prison population held fairly steady at about 5,000 inmates. Then came an explosion as crime became a political issue, fueled by the war on drugs. By 1990, the state inmate census had doubled to around 10,000; by 2003, that number had skyrocketed to 23,000. They were packed into facilities built to house 13,000 prisoners. The growth rate of incarceration outstripped the state's population increase, 600 % to 30 %, respectively, between 1973 and 2003. Strict laws passed during that period set out sentence enhancements for various crimes and mandated jail terms for repeat offenders. "Alabama used incarceration as a punishment more often than almost any other state," Pryor said. The get-tough-on-crime policies played well with voters. However, the state's leaders refused to allocate sufficient money to accommodate the big new influx of inmates. Alabama's prisons remain seriously crowded. In an attempt to relieve some of the pressure, Gov. Bob Riley created a second parole board in September 2003 to expedite the release of non-violent criminals. It resulted in an overall reduction of about 1,000 inmates. However, the prison population has been increasing again in recent months. As attorney general, Pryor advocated sentencing reform. Thanks in large part to his efforts, the Legislature created the Alabama Sentencing Commission to set out fair and practical guidelines for judges that would allow them to bypass the mandatory enhancements of the Habitual Felony Offender Act. Unfortunately, the Legislature has failed, for 2 years in a row, to adopt the voluntary standards. At the same time, it has failed to come to grips with the financial realities of continuing the present politics. Prison Commissioner Donal Campbell this year requested doubling his budget to $580 million, including $151 million for 2 new prisons. The lawmakers told him to forget it. That's how they have approached prison reform. We need the new sentencing guidelines, as well as new revenue stream to fund corrections needs. It shouldn't take the intervention of the federal judiciary to get the lawmakers' attention but Pryor's comments make it clear that change is needed. "I could not find a single defender of the status quo," he told the conference. (source: Tuscaloosa News) PENNSYLVANIA: State doesn't give dime to the innocent----Only 20 states compensate those wrongfully jailed More than a century of Pennsylvania jurisprudence separates Thomas Doswell and Andrew Toth, but the 2 have much in common. Both spent nearly 20 years in prison for crimes they didn't commit, Doswell for a 1986 East End rape and Toth for a murder in 1891 at the Edgar Thomson Steel Works in Braddock. Both were exonerated by new evidence, Doswell by DNA and Toth by a dying man's confession half a world away. Both relied on family and religion behind bars, and both forgave those who put them there. "They have a job to do," Doswell said Wednesday of Pittsburgh police, after becoming the 1st person in Allegheny County exonerated by DNA evidence. "I hold nothing against the men who put me in prison, though they did me wrong," wrote Toth, when he got out of Western Penitentiary in 1911. "But, oh, I am glad to be free again." These men share something else, too. Neither got a dime from the state that imprisoned them. Doswell received a couple of $1,000 checks this week from private citizens, including one from a former state Supreme Court justice who called him a remarkable man and said, "I am truly sorry for what happened to you." For his part, Toth received a $40-a-month pension from his former employer, Andrew Carnegie, who was bothered by the case. Although 20 states and the federal government provide some form of compensation for the wrongly convicted, Pennsylvania doesn't -- even though it was Toth's case that helped raise awareness across the country that men in his position need help. "It's ironic that Pennsylvania doesn't have a compensation law," said Rob Warden, director of the Center on Wrongful Convictions at Northwestern University School of Law in Chicago. A state legislator wants to change that. After Doswell got out of prison last week, Rep. Mike McGeehan, D-Philadelphia, renewed his push for a bill to pay people like him. "Science is catching up with law enforcement. We're finding that we do make mistakes," said McGeehan, who comes from a family of police officers. "We owe these folks more than a shrug and bus fare home." In April, McGeehan held a news conference to unveil legislation that would provide wrongfully incarcerated convicts with an award equal to lost wages or a legislator's $129 a day in expense money, whichever is higher. The bill would also provide $50,000 a year for inmates who had wrongfully served on death row. Appearing with McGeehan that day were Vincent Moto, a Philadelphia man freed from prison after serving 10 years for a rape that DNA evidence showed he didn't commit, and Ray Krone of Dover, York County, who had been dubbed the "snaggle-tooth killer" in a 1991 Arizona murder before DNA cleared him in 2002. They said they were angry that they received nothing for their lost years behind bars, although Krone did win a $1.2 million settlement from the Arizona county that convicted him. "What's happening is that these people are thrown back into society without any support," McGeehan said last week. "It's nearly impossible for them to reacclimate to their new-found freedom." Doswell, 44, of Homewood, a soft-spoken former laborer for the U.S. Department of Housing, said he wasn't angry about what happened to him. He said a man can't let anger consume him, because "it will, it will." He said he also had the benefit of support at home that others in his position don't have. "I had good family support before I went in, and it's still there," he said as he prepared for a CNN interview. "I'm learning to live all over again with the help of my family and my counsel." He bought a new suit of clothes and wants to return to his old job, but he left the compensation questions to his lawyer, James E. DePasquale, who said he's looking into a possible federal civil rights lawsuit. DePasquale plans to talk to the two witnesses who, independently and incorrectly, picked Doswell out of a photo lineup. "I want to know from them what went on," he said. If he can show that the witnesses were influenced in some way by the police to finger Doswell, he could make a case for misconduct. But the legal hurdles are high in federal cases. "The standard is that you can only sue the police (not the prosecutors) and you have to prove they had no reasonable cause for an arrest," said Warden. "But usually the police do have reasonable cause." More often than acting out of negligence or malice, they just make mistakes. DePasquale said Doswell can't count on winning a suit, and the chances that McGeehan's compensation bill will become law any time soon appear slim. "I've made it clear (to Doswell) that both may be tremendous longshots," DePasquale said. The compensation bill doesn't face any real opposition in the legislature, but it doesn't seem to be gaining much traction. It went nowhere after McGeehan introduced it in the 2003-2004 session. He resurrected it in the spring and this week asked for support again in the wake of the Doswell story. At least 1 high-ranking state official, Attorney General Tom Corbett, doesn't support it. "This is a solution in search of a problem," said Corbett spokesman Kevin Harley, repeating a quote he has given before on the subject. Harley said the law isn't necessary, because cases of exoneration are rare in Pennsylvania, and the wrongly convicted can always pursue their claims through the federal court system. But former inmates and their advocates, such as the various Innocence Projects across the country that provide legal help to the incarcerated, take the opposite view. They say even in states where substantial compensation exists, such as Illinois, Texas and California, it isn't enough to make up for lost freedom. And since the availability of DNA testing has become widespread, more and more inmates will undoubtedly be cleared in the years to come and will need financial help. More than 328 people have been exonerated since 1989, nearly 1/2 of them by DNA evidence. "It's going to keep happening," said McGeehan. "Science is the great equalizer." Several large states and the federal government have both just recently recognized the growing issue. Last year President Bush signed the Innocence Protection Act, which upgraded a 1948 law that provided a flat $5,000 for the wrongly convicted. The new law bumped that up to $100,000 a year for death penalty cases and $50,000 for other cases. Just last week in Massachusetts, the attorney general asked the administration to approve the 1st payments under the new law for 2 men falsely convicted of rape. The amounts weren't disclosed, but the law provides for up to $500,000. In Louisiana, the amounts are $15,000 for each year behind bars up to a maximum of $150,000. Various other states are all across the board with their compensation. Oklahoma gives a maximum of $175,000, Maine $300,000, North Carolina up to $500,000 and Tennessee a max of $1 million. In Illinois, where 19 death row inmates have been exonerated and the former governor declared a moratorium on capital punishment, a compensation law has long been on the books that adjusts payments pegged to the Consumer Price Index. Gary Gauger has received a total of $61,000 under it, but he said that's nowhere near enough. He was arrested for the 1993 murder of his parents on their farm in Richmond, Ill., and was on death row before being exonerated when federal agents linked 2 members of a biker gang to the killings. Gauger, 53, sued the prosecuting county in federal court in 1999, saying investigators and prosecutors conspired to frame him. A judge threw out the suit in 2002, but he has since re-filed it in county court. The case is pending. Gauger's $61,000, which he got last year, can't even approach his attorney's fees, which were originally $210,000 before being reduced. "How do you compensate someone for being framed by the police?" he said last week from his farm. "It should at least be the average American income, plus damages. At a minimum, it should be $40,000 to $50,000 a year. At least they should compensate you for the amount they spent to keep you in prison." Gauger said states should also set up ex-inmates with jobs and job training and give them a place to stay, at least for a while. Warden, of the Center on Wrongful Convictions, agreed that the amount provided by most states is "extremely stingy." "People who emerge from this situation aren't in a position to cope with freedom," he said. "Nobody emerges from this experience whole. The best parts of their lives are gone." Money can't fill that void entirely, but he said he would like to see automatic compensation "in the 6 figures." There are other problems besides the price of lost freedom, advocates say. In some states, such as Illinois and Maryland, an inmate needs a pardon from the governor to qualify for compensation. But some inmates who were wrongly convicted don't feel they should need a pardon, because it implies they did the crime but are being forgiven. In other states, the process of collecting compensation is tangled by bureaucratic procedures that can take years to resolve. Gauger was released in 2002 but said it took two years to get paid by the state's Court of Claims. Perhaps the ultimate indignity is that those who are released after being wrongly convicted have far fewer resources than the guilty. After they get out, most inmates are on parole or supervised release and have access to counseling, job services and other opportunities to improve themselves. But in most states, the wrongly convicted get nothing. "You should have enough," said Warden, "to live a life of comfort for the rest of your years." (source: Pittsburgh Post-Gazette) CALIFORNIA: 2nd look at Bush service award ---- White House panel unaware honoree was on death row A White House council on volunteerism said Friday it's taking another look at how the President's Call to Service Award -- accompanied by a laudatory letter from President Bush -- was issued to Stanley "Tookie" Williams, a California death row inmate who has written a series of books warning young people against the gang life. A spokesman for the President's Council on Service and Civic Participation said that neither the council nor Bush had any way of knowing that the person they were honoring was a condemned multiple murderer. "We're reviewing the case," said the spokesman, Sandy Scott. "We're looking at who he is, how he got the award and what the organization is that certified him for the award. "We've never had anything like this before," Scott said. Williams, 51, a co-founder of the Crips street gang, was sentenced to death for 4 1979 murders in the Los Angeles area, crimes which he denies committing. He renounced gangs after 8 years in prison and has since written 10 books for children and youths. Admirers have nominated him for the Nobel Prize in both peace and literature. A cable network aired a movie about his life last year called "Redemption." Co-author Barbara Becnel, executive director of the Neighborhood House of North Richmond, said that about 60,000 e-mails have been sent to his Web site, www.tookie.com, and that he has been credited with saving or turning around countless lives. A federal appeals court has upheld Williams' conviction and death sentence, despite commenting that his "good works and accomplishments since incarceration" might be grounds for clemency from the governor. His lawyers have asked the U.S. Supreme Court to review claims that the prosecutor displayed racial bias by removing 3 African Americans from the jury and by comparing Williams in the courtroom to a "Bengal tiger in captivity in the zoo." If he loses the appeal, an execution date could be set before the end of this year. The presidential citation, which arrived last week, was a lifetime award for more than 4,000 hours of volunteer service. Williams was nominated by William Harrison, an archbishop in the Old Catholic Orthodox Church in West Monroe, La. The letter signed by Bush said, in part, "Through service to others, you demonstrate the outstanding character of America and help strengthen our country. ... Americans continue to serve and are part of the gathering momentum of millions of acts of kindness and decency that are changing America, one heart and soul at a time. Your actions contribute to this change." The White House council was created by Bush in 2003 to promote volunteering and is chaired by former pro football star Darrell Green and former Sens. Bob Dole and John Glenn, who signed a separate letter congratulating Williams. Scott, the council spokesman, said the awards are reviewed only by the nominating organizations -- 11,000 churches, schools, businesses and civic groups -- and not by the council or the White House. He said more than 267, 000 awards have been presented in 2 years, though most are for a year of service rather than the lifetime award given to Williams. The identity of the recipient would not be a reason to invalidate an award, Scott said, if the hours of service and the nominating organization are legitimate. But a California victims'-rights advocate said Bush should withdraw the award. "What kind of message are we sending out as a role model?" asked Harriet Salarno, president of Crime Victims United of California. A lawyer for a pro-prosecution organization predicted the publicity would prompt changes in the council. "When you give out awards like this, particularly with the president's name on it, you have to be more careful," said attorney Charles Hobson of the Criminal Justice Legal Foundation in Sacramento. "I'm sure they will be more careful in the future." (source: San Francisco Chronicle)
