Rebuilding Completed?

Sometimes all you can do is laugh at a situation else you'll be brought to tears. Perhaps a little humor and satire from the Onion will help prod things along.

Fight Crime, Not Mosquitos

A quick footnote to my last post. The Times Picayune reported today on salaries for the Mayor's top aides. I was a bit startled to see that the City's "Mosquito Control Director" makes $128,242 a year, which is actually more than even Hizzoner CRN the Mayor is paid! But what's truly disgraceful is that the chief fly catcher is making $100,000 more than a new recruit for the NOPD! I know mosquitoes are a serious health risk, and I'm sure some NRA sympathizer has some statistics showing how many more people die from mosquito-borne infections than gunshots (much like those who point out that driving is more dangerous, statistically, than flying), but come on. I realize times are tough and budgets are tight, but how about a little administrative belt tightening in other areas and putting our resources to work in areas that are most vital to the community's safety and survival.

Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is

Why don't we have better law enforcement? A pithy bumper-sticker slogan may provide a clue: "Pay Police Like Your Life Depends On It." Police officers, particularly in New Orleans, have a dangerous -- and too often thankless -- job. As a defense lawyer, I often see what may be police excess and overreaching. But most police officers are honorable people doing a job that most of us would never want to do, working under immense stress, dealing with unsavory people, and all for very little money. If we are serious about law enforcement, we should be certain our police officers have the resources (and salaries) they need.

It's a real boon to defense lawyers having police officers fail to appear in court, or lacking basic resources to run a crime lab, or being simply too overworked to get the facts straight in a written report. But for the sake of the community, that's obviously not a good thing. I overheard someone in court today say that the New Orleans Police Department is losing, on average, 17 officers per month. If that's true (and I have no idea if it is or not), the City's problems are only going to get worse. You can't well survive as a City if you don't have basis law and order, and I'm afraid we are witnessing the slow erosion of whatever peace remains in the City.

There was a little noticed report on the news the other day that said the District Attorney's Office is setting up a task force of prosecutors who will prosecute only the most violent offenses. Those ADAs will enjoy drastically reduced case loads (about 20 cases per person) and will be attracted to stay with an increased salary. From the defense perspective, this is not necessarily good news. But as citizens, we should all applaud the extra attention being given to the most serious cases. Stop diverting resources to petty offenses and concentrate on the most serious stuff. If you want to get crime under control, you have to ante up the resources to address it.

What about public defense? Obviously, I'm in favor of increasing resources there as well. Some may say that defense lawyers merely perpetuate the problem by helping guilty people go free. Perhaps that has a kernel of truth, but a well functioning defense system also keeps the system running more smoothly and efficiently, which translates into less wasted resources. It also means people can trust both sides of the law enforcement equation. No one wants to live in a police state where the State has unlimited power, and having a robust defense system keeps it all working in a comfortable balance.

"Like It or Not" - More on Crime in New Orleans

Rather than subject everyone to my droning monologue, I'd like to share with you an interesting post from Bart Everson's blog, "B.Rox," discussing crime in New Orleans. Many of the comments are equally interesting. Enjoy.

Believe

Hell? Check.
High water? Double check!
Saints in the Superbowl? Check this.

Maybe there's something to this "destiny" or "fate" thing. Everyone outside of Chicago seems to be pulling for the Saints. (Everyone except the Maloney brothers.)

Geaux Saints!

Crime and Politics

The flurry of murders to start the year has fueled the perception that violent crime is out of control in New Orleans. It doesn't really matter whether crime is in fact any worse, statistically, than in years past. The community seems to have lost confidence in its leaders to protect the City from the apparent seige. Right now, gunshots speak much louder than any marches, press conferences, and talk of curfews. If City Hall and criminals are both vying for our attention, the bad guys are winning. You get the sense that we're hanging by one hand on the window sill of law and order, and the criminals are slowly peeling our fingers away before we take a fateful plunge. We need leaders who will yank us back inside from the slippery ledge, not those who can only promise a flimsy net if we've already lost our grip.

The whole situation reminds me of Grouch Marx' observation about politics: It is the art of looking for trouble, finding it everywhere, diagnosing it incorrectly and applying the wrong remedies. I don't know what the solution is. I'm fairly certain late-night checkpoints aren't it. I drove through one the other night and thought it a strange use of resources. The police can't blockade every route through the City, and they seem most likely to end up arresting a bunch of drunk drivers. (I doubt you could say drunk driving is part of the City's 'charm,' but installing checkpoints right before Mardi Gras might dampen some of the tourists' enthusiasm for the place, and we certainly don't want to give people any more reason not to visit.) I don't see how stopping cars at stationary checkpoints in the middle of the night is going to have a significant impact on violent crime.

The emphasis on community policing seems a good place to start. Building relationships and confidence in the community may encourage concerned citizens to contact their community partners when they see something suspicious, and hopefully to come forward when they witness crimes. Spending resources investigating and prosecuting the most violent criminals also seems sensible. We've been trying the trickle-up approach -- the theory that zero tolerance for petty crime will reduce more serious crime -- but that doesn't seem to be working. (Perhaps people who know they won't be harassed for every petty infraction will be more willing to help the police combat more serious crime?) We need more leadership and a new approach, not political pep rallies and more of the same.

Free at last?

Mercifully, the law prevailed and Leo is out of jail. Case closed, so the docket reflects. Like many criminal cases, this one has been a minuet of law and emotion. Usually it’s the defense lawyer making the emotional plea that the law is too harsh and unfair. Here, the law had to tame the court’s emotions. The trial judge was frustrated with Leo because, in his view, Leo had not satisfied his probationary bargain. Thus, he tried to keep Leo in jail despite lacking the legal basis. The court of appeals, however, confirmed that Leo’s probationary term had expired, thus extinguishing the courts’ dominion over Leo. The trial judge nevertheless defiantly threatened to keep Leo in jail. The judge relented as we prepared another emergency appeal. Leo is free, at least legally speaking.

Leo patiently waited for justice to run its course, emotions in check, despite having spent four months in jail for no good reason, and then another week in jail while we wrestled with the trial judge over the limits to his authority. Leo has not complained, at least not publicly, and he has carried himself with quiet dignity throughout this process. Yet, his equanimity does not dampen the emotions percolating beneath.

Leo describes his tangle with the law like reciting facts from a textbook. The emotions take charge, however, when he recounts his arrest for a phantom probation violation. The court issued a warrant for Leo’s arrest for failing to appear at a status hearing in January 2006, just a few months after Hurricane Katrina stampeded through New Orleans. Leo was arrested in September 2006, but he is at pains describe the rest, not for loss of words, but lack of comprehension. Leo, like just about everyone else, had evacuated from New Orleans and was busy concentrating on his emotional and physical survival after Katrina. In January 2006, he was living in Houston, trying to rebuild his life and planning his return while the City of New Orleans hobbled toward its own recovery. The court, which was barely operating out of borrowed space at that time, nevertheless faulted Leo for missing a status hearing. Leo’s supposed dereliction – at a time when the City could hardly offer electricity, clean water, mail service, shelter, or police protection – would lead to an arrest warrant. How is it that a man can lose everything – his home, his friends, possessions, familiar surroundings – and yet the State tries to take more?

Evidently perspective vanished with Katrina and vanquished our priorities. People here, especially those who are poor and black, were literally abandoned in the wake of Hurricane Katrina. The levees failed. The government failed. Civilization failed as people had to fend for themselves in the newfound Hobbesian state of nature. Emotions run high in post-Katrina New Orleans, and only those who have lived through it all can really begin to understand the magnitude of pain visited upon the people here. But even then it is hard to comprehend the indignity of Leo’s fate. He is free at last, but he will carry a burden of painful emotions. It will take time to heal the wounds and restore perspective. For now, the law may have to mediate as all sides struggle with emotions and wrestle for the City’s soul.

Piling On

As if the criminal justice system isn't under enough strain, here's an example of how not to solve the problem. Frustrated with the lack of public defenders to represent juvenile defendants, the Chief Judge of the Juvenile Court held in contempt and jailed Steve Singer, the trial chief of the public defender's office. Brilliant! There aren't enough lawyers, so toss one of the few experienced public defenders in jail. Fortunately, Mr. Singer was released by day's end, leading to discussions with the Chief Judge about plans to increase the number of lawyers. What a way to spark a conversation.

The Chief Judge's frustration is understandable. (Indeed, any sensible person probably shares his impatience.) But this is a curious way to tackle the problem. Surely no public defender needs to see central lock-up from the inside to know the system isn't working. Maybe some others could use a jailhouse invitation to spark some change. Why not jail prosecutors who routinely are not ready to proceed to trial and seek continuances as matter of routine? Or police officers who fail to appear for scheduled hearings? Or Sheriff's deputies who fail to transport prisoners for court hearings? Or court officials who can't seem to schedule proceedings in an efficient manner (rather than the woefully inefficient daily cattle calls)? Or legislators who won't allocate enough funds to pay to fix the system? Or the voters who keep electing these folks to office without demanding more accountability and results? The quotidian blame game is no solution. Perhaps a little more cooperation among all the players will help advance the ball.

A New Year, But More of the Same

Leo made it home for the holidays, but his vacation was short lived. Yesterday, the court sent him right back to jail after he allegedly failed a drug test. Never mind the fact that he just spent four months in jail for concededly no good reason (because no one notified the court that Leo was in custody). Never mind that his probation should have expired long ago. The court has him under its judicial thumb, seemingly in perpetuity. More grist for the appellate mill. Stay tuned for further updates.

Farewell to Ford

The federal government is closed today to mark the passing of President Gerald Ford. The state funeral was relatively modest as compared to another recent past president's, probably to reflect Ford's modest character and even more modest imprint on the nation's history. Save flags at half mast, Ford's passing enjoyed seemingly less hype than James Brown's. (Some would say the King of Soul's trademark moves will have a more lasting impact on the nation.) That's unfortunate.

The pundits' trivia grab-bag is shallow for the man who served less than a full term and is branded as the first unelected president. (Some say we've now had two.) They all note that his preemptive pardon of Nixon strained his own legitimacy. (History may well judge him wise for sparing the country more of the needless sideshow.) And we know Ford presided over the withdrawal of American troops from Vietnam. (And Ford apparently had little taste for Iraq.)

We may forget that Ford played on two national champion football teams. I, for one, am too young to remember Ford dodging an assassination attempt by one of Charles Manson's followers. Few could name the Helsinki Accords as a crowning achievement, and even fewer have the faintest clue what the Accords signified. (Count me among the Accords-illiterate.)

But Ford has a lasting legacy, one that has had a profound impact on the nation. Ford appointed John Paul Stevens as associate justice to the U.S. Supreme Court, and Justice Stevens continues to serve more than three decades later. Stevens, a nominal republican nominee, hardly fits the familiar ideological mold we've seen from recent presidents. Depending on your leanings, you may variously curse or celebrate Stevens' ideological defiance. In any case, he has been a champion for some of society's least popular and most vulnerable, especially in the realm of criminal defense. Whether Ford knew it or not, this would be his enduring legacy.

Happy New Year

Thanks for reading and have a wonderful new year!

Home for the Holidays

Leo made it home for Christmas. A humbug night in jail is now a night of holiday cheer with family, thanks to volunteers from the Student Hurricane Network. Leo’s offense was failing to appear last January for a court hearing to check on the status of his probation. He missed his court date because he was in Houston, where he evacuated after Hurricane Katrina. Saving himself apparently is no excuse. The court issued a warrant for his arrest despite the fact that the local courts (and most parts of the City) were barely open and functioning. The sheriff arrested Leo in September, and he’s been in jail ever since. Neither the sheriff nor the correctional facility where he was held, however, bothered to tell the Court that Leo was in their custody. He was not brought promptly before a judge, nor was any hearing scheduled within ten days, as is required by State Code. Instead, he waited patiently for four months – without seeing a lawyer or a judge – before the volunteers could find him.

Even then, it was a surprisingly slow ride home. We secured a court order for Leo’s immediate release last Thursday. The prison should have released Leo promptly and put him on a bus back to New Orleans, but the bureaucracy predictably dampened all sense of urgency. Despite a court order and having kept Leo four months past expiration, prison officials were in no hurry to get him home in time for the holidays. After some cajoling, the prison assured us that Leo would be on a bus to New Orleans on Saturday. I waited, sign and all, for Leo to arrive at the bus station so I could make sure he got from the station to the home he shares with his elderly sister. I left disappointed. Several people called the prison trying to track down Leo, but no one would give us any information. “Call back on Tuesday, after the holiday, when the full staff is here.” Eventually, we got a call from Leo himself. He had made it back to New Orleans by Sunday, just in time for Christmas.

To paraphrase Churchill, prison officials finally did right by Leo after exhausting every other possibility. We have located numerous other inmates who have been held in prison well past their allotted time. As for them, the prison Scrooges evidently have a few lumps of coal to go around. Maybe the new year will bring some cheer for them.

Sight for Sore Eyes

I never wanted to see the inside of a prison. No one does, really, especially not in New Orleans. After arrest here, the accused are ushered in front of a magistrate who recites their charges and sets their bonds in a factory-like process. Before they can process what has just happened, before they’ve had a meaningful conversation (if any at all) with a lawyer, the accused are prodded along like shackled cattle back into the holding tank. Their eyes are filled variously with confusion, frustration, or anger, all of which give way to resignation and despair if they can’t make bail. What awaits them inside is a daily struggle to survive. The conditions are assuredly inhospitable if not inhumane. I confess that much comes as no surprise. There is an element, however, that I have come to crave.

It is that sense of humanity that we have discarded and forgotten. I came to realize this after visiting a particular client in jail for the second time. After I greeted him, he paused and looked at me searchingly. Then he said something like this: “You really came back. The guards told me nobody’s coming to see me. Everyone says there’s no way a lawyer will come and talk to you. And you’re here again?” I assured him that I would be back as many times as needed to prepare his defense. He can’t believe his luck. His hope is percolating, which I sense overtaking his despair.

This encounter seems repeated with each person I meet in jail. They all are surprised that a lawyer would take an interest in their cases. This is not to say that the public defenders have intentionally, systematically ignored their clients. Rather, they are simply too overloaded with cases to possibly devote such time to each of their clients. Hence, we have had to turn to volunteers, like the law students from the Student Hurricane Network, to help fill in the breach. What are we to make of a justice system that must depend on the good graces of volunteers? In just the first week of student trips, we have uncovered numerous pre-trial detainees who have been held well past the maximum time allowed for a speedy trial, and sometimes beyond the maximum time allowed for a sentence even if they had been convicted. It is a system that has failed. Without advocates, the accused are subject to the merciless winds of a system stacked against them.

We evidently have a tremendous blind spot for those accused of crimes, especially for those who are too poor to afford a lawyer. Out of sight, out of mind is the prevailing view. When we leave these people literally defenseless, we have stripped them of the most basic elements of their humanity, treating them purely as caged animals. (For the skeptics out there, I suppose I should note that the client described above is one that I believe to be wrongfully accused; the presumption of innocence, in any event, should serve as an equalizer for that conceit.) If we should accept that sorry state of affairs, then we might as well check our own humanity at the door.

No rest for the weary

Some of my recent commentary apparently struck a nerve. As well it should have, some would say. But that misses the point. To be sure, my prior post was provocative by design. My aim, however, was to draw attention to important issues, not to offend. While it’s easy to be critical, it takes courtesy to be constructive. My colorful commentary regrettably may have crossed a line from constructive to just plain coarse.

The challenging landscape of post-Katrina New Orleans naturally breeds frustration. People who have lived through it are all too familiar with the problems. For those with the benefit of critical distance, myself included, it’s all too easy to focus on the thicket of problems without honoring the accomplishments. Remember, 80% of the City was flooded little more than a year ago. For months, people couldn’t return to their homes, if they had homes to which they could return. City services were crippled, and people had to drive out of town just to buy groceries. Businesses are struggling, and tax revenues are down. Even in the best of circumstances, it would be challenging to reform the system on the do-it-now timetable everyone craves. Needless to say, current conditions in New Orleans are far from ideal. When you put it all into context – the on-the-ground reality of a crippled City – the incremental progress that has been made is truly impressive. And even more impressive are the people who, despite enormous personal and professional demands, still find the boundless time and energy to serve the community when it would be a whole lot easier to throw up your hands.

Of course, there is a long, bumpy road ahead. Naturally, there will be lively debates about the appropriate reforms. What is unacceptable is pretending all work is done, or casting blame without lending a hand. There is work to be done.

Students to the Rescue

Orleans Parish might make Kafka blush. After being arrested in Orleans Parish, a defendant is brought before a magistrate for an initial appearance to receive formal notice of the charges and for setting of bond. State law also requires that a lawyer be appointed to represent the defendant if he or she is indigent. In practice, the court may as well appoint a mayfly. If the defendant cannot make bail, in all likelihood he won’t see or speak to a lawyer again until trial. He has no one to advise him, conduct an investigation, or tell him when he will be going to court. There are untold numbers of such inmates from Orleans Parish sitting in jail waiting (months and sometimes much longer) to speak to someone, anyone really.

Student volunteers are on their way. Waves of them, in fact. (Or locust swarms, if you’re asking the Sheriff.) In conjunction with the Student Hurricane Network, law students from around the country are spending their winter breaks to fan out across Louisiana to interview inmates, create client files, and help queue them up for effective legal representation. The students must depend entirely on their own dime for travel, accommodations, and expenses. (They are not too proud for your donations!) If the State cannot and will not address its own problems, at least we know we can rely on the generosity of indefatigable student volunteers to save the day. Kafka’s Josef K. never had it so good.

Drunk Justice

The New Orleans criminal justice system is broken, and the people charged with fixing it are a bunch of drunks. Not the over-served-on-Bourbon-Street variety, but drunks all the same. The muckety-mucks minding the store would like you to think they’ve got everything under control. They don’t. They’re barely holding it together with bureaucratic spit and tape. Like alcoholics convinced by their own excuses, they won’t even acknowledge the problem. And anyone who offers cover or turns a blind eye might as well be pouring the drink.

If you’re not outraged, you’re not paying attention. State prisons are chock full of Orleans Parish inmates awaiting trial who have never spoken to a lawyer. As many as 1,800 of them. In the 1970s, Orleans Parish had only about 800 inmates; thirty years later, that number reached 8,000 despite the City shedding 100,000 people. We’re not stocking jails with newly minted violent criminals – FBI crime statistics betray that farce – but consider yourself safe from Tarot card readers and dope smokers. The Constitution is virtually unknown in these quarters. Judges set bonds (a supposedly individualized determination) without defendants, and often no defense lawyers, present. The Legislature evidently finds inconvenient the State’s burden of proof and thus has passed (patently unconstitutional) laws to shift key evidentiary burdens to the defense. Never mind innocent until proved guilty; the D.A. shamelessly prefers to detain indefinitely anyone who's poor while ignoring something we like to call due process. And the Sheriff is only too happy to oblige, earning $30 a night for every inmate in the Parish motel. Three strikes – or three feather-weight victimless crimes – and you’ll have plenty of time, at taxpayers’ expense, to repent for your sins. My client charged with soliciting oral sex for $13 faces twenty years to life. Too poor to pay your fines? Nonpayment will land you right back in jail. For municipal offenses, judges offer the choice of paying fines or spending 60 days in jail: The rich can go home, the poor get three squares and a bed at the Orleans Parish Bastille.

As recently reported at the Criminal Justice Task Force meeting, there has been some modest amount of progress. But this is no time for self-congratulatory pats on the back. Like angry drunks, the powers-that-be still scorn anyone who dares suggest any reforms. (The judges of the criminal court recently threatened contempt of the reform-minded board overseeing the public defenders.) The first step to recovery is acknowledging that you have a problem. The problems here are long-standing, not just a Katrina hangover. It’s time for an intervention.

[This post has generated some chatter. Please see my follow-up here.]

Filling in for Lady Liberty

Last night, I attended the monthly gathering of the Huddled Masses Social Aid and Pleasure Club. Historically, clubs of this sort served as benevolent aid societies, a social network that offered its members help in time of need, particularly for funerals. (The clubs served as an early form of insurance in the African-American community.) This particular group, formed not long after Hurricane Katrina departed, is an eclectic mix of locals that gathers to fraternize (and sometimes commiserate) over a pot-luck dinner and listen to a monthly speaker. The pleasure part here is much the social aid, which otherwise seems confined to trading notes about preferred mental health drugs. I guess Ellis Island has room for the tired and poor, but not the self-medicated and intoxicated.

This month’s speaker was Dr. Richard Deichmann, former chief of medicine at Baptist Hospital, who stayed behind to help evacuate the hospital as Katrina wreaked havoc on the City. His harrowing and heart-wrenching account would leave you speechless. (Dr. Deichmann’s full story is memorialized in his new book, Code Blue: A Katrina Physician’s Memoir.) The hospital was an evacuation center, not only serving as a drop-off point for some of the City’s most ailing patients, but also stuffed full of patients’ families (and pets!) who had nowhere to turn. Conditions rapidly deteriorated once generators ran out of fuel or were swamped. Without electricity to run air conditioning, temperatures inside the hospital reached 110 degrees in the hot summer; doctors and nurses carted patients up flights of stairs to the parking garage and roof to give patients the marginal relief of 95 degree humid air and hand-fanning with papers. One person asked, “So how did people die?” Any number of clinical reasons could be cataloged for these seriously ill patients, but Dr. Deichmann focused on one common affliction: despair. One could make the same observation about a struggling City. What is left if you have no hope? The Crescent City has a treasured history, rich traditions, and perseverant people who won’t let the City die. Take two of these with a little drink, and call the doctor in the morning. Cheers to the Huddled Masses!

Behind the Times, Above the Fold

Here’s a suggestion for Orleans Parish Prison: Take inventory. Nearly a year-and-a-half after Katrina, they still don’t know who’s in custody or to which prisons around the State all their wards were scattered after the big storm. A case in point is the story of Pedro Parra-Sanchez, who spent thirteen months in jail without speaking to a lawyer or seeing the inside of a courtroom. As reported today on the front page of the New Orleans Times Picayune, Mr. Parra-Sanchez finally had a day in court, thanks to the lawyers and student attorneys at the Tulane Law Clinic who secured his release. Unfortunately, Mr. Parra-Sanchez is not the first, and doubtfully the last, to suffer through this prisoner accounting snafu.

For what it’s worth, the Assistant District Attorney offered the State’s formal apology to Mr. Parra-Sanchez, and the presiding judge expressed his outrage. The Sheriff and Department of Corrections – which are responsible for housing prisoners – couldn’t muster an apology, preferring the blame game and finger pointing. Had they previously exhausted the reservoir of hari-kari outrage? I’d guess there’s more head rolling at Wal-Mart when too many DVDs and pampers disappear from the shelves than when Orleans Parish Prison loses track of its inmates. Is it really too much to ask to have the State keep tabs on its pre-trial detainees so it knows who’s in custody, where, and for how long? One would think modern computers are up to the task, and a decent tracking system would save the State a lot of front-page news embarrassment. (Well, except shame may be unknown in some bureaucratic quarters.)

A positive footnote: Kudos to Touro Synagogue, which paid for the travel expenses home to California for Mr. Parra-Sanchez, a devout Catholic man, after learning of his plight from a Tulane student attorney of Iranian descent. Score one for interfaith cooperation!

Bake Sales for Justice

Public defenders are responsible for representing indigent criminal defendants facing imprisonment. While it may seem that public defenders work for free – their meager salaries hardly suggest otherwise – the State is responsible for paying for indigent defense. But for the Sixth Amendment back-stop, it’s probably fair to say that the State of Louisiana would not provide its poor with defense counsel out of the goodness of its bureaucratic heart. (Having the nation’s highest rate of incarceration apparently is a badge of honor.) Even with the Constitutional mandate, however, funding for the Public Defender here is woefully – and arguably unconstitutionally – inadequate. Historically, the local Public Defender has been financed by revenue from parking tickets and court fines. The former essentially dried up after Hurricane Katrina; the latter presents an unsavory (and likely unconstitutional) conflict of interest when the Public Defender earns its keep when its clients are convicted and have to pay fines.


The judges of the Orleans Parish Criminal District Court recently concluded that the floundering system has imperiled the Public Defender’s ability to provide an adequate defense for all its indigent clients as the Constitution requires. True enough. Curiously, however, the judges blame the Public Defender’s recently implemented “policies and practices” for the breach, and the judges have threatened to hold the board that oversees the Public Defender in contempt if more public defenders are not hired. The offending policies and practices are things like hiring full-time public defenders, establishing a central office, and setting up a networked computer system to track cases – all changes recommended by every independent study (including one by the U.S. Department of Justice) of the problems with public defense in Orleans Parish. Nor do the judges even hint where the money will come from to hire more public defenders, to say nothing of the fact that attracting competent lawyers at $29,000 per year is no small task. Thus, the judges’ criticism sounds a lot like blaming teachers for a poor education system when the State fails to allocate sufficient funds to buy textbooks and hire enough qualified teachers to maintain a proper student-teacher ratio. I guess the Public Defender should take a page out of the PTA playbook and hold a bake sale to close the gap in funding.

Perhaps the judges’ threatened contempt proceedings are better directed at the Governor. It is the State, after all, that is responsible for ensuring that competent lawyers are provided to those who cannot afford them. (The Public Defender board is at the State’s mercy for funding.) If the State were serious about discharging this obligation, it would follow the federal model and consider funding the Public Defender in the same manner and to the same extent as the State’s Prosecutors. And if the State’s not willing to do that, the least it can do is dispatch more meter maids – or eat more cupcakes.

Prosecution under water?

Facts may be stubborn things, but criminal trials depend on evidence to prove up the facts, and waterlogged evidence may be the hobgoblin of prosecution in New Orleans. You see, the State's evidence rooms were flooded following Hurricane Katrina. The State depends on two evidence rooms, one under the court house and one under the adjacent police station. The former had chest-deep water in it, meaning items on the upper shelves were relatively unscathed, save the ubiquitous mold growing on everything in the damp, musty environment. The latter did not fare as well. That evidence room was completely submerged with evidence floating around in a giant fish bowl. By the time the waters receded, the doors were completely rusted shut and had to be opened like Geraldo cutting into Capone's vault, only this time the State interceded to block our cameras from filming the opening. We were permitted, however, to have an independent cameraman film the interior, which was a heaping, stinking mess of moldy, waterlogged, rusted "evidence." The State hired a remediation company to freeze dry papers to extract the water and clean up the mess. But they could not save water-worn evidence labels, nor could they know for sure to which case things belong that had been strewn about in the flood waters.

We now hear that 90% or more of the State's evidence has been "remediated," a term that necessarily makes defense lawyers, and perhaps juries, circumspect. In any case, that still leaves a good deal of evidence missing or destroyed. (See this excellent NY Times article by Chris Drew.) That's not to say that prosecutions can't go forward -- we've all heard of people being convicted for murder without a weapon or even a body being found. But what are we to make of the fact that the destruction of evidence was, at least in some sense, caused by the State's own folly? Like Jonah who slept as his ship split apart in tempestuous waters, the State seems to have completely ignored the obvious fact that flood waters could wreak havoc on the State's evidence room. Everyone knows basements are virtually non-existent in New Orleans -- even the dead are buried in above-ground crypts -- so you've got to wonder why the State was storing its precious evidence below the water table. Perhaps the State awaits Jonah's whale to spit us all out on the dry shores of Assyria?