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Indiana prosecutor takes “a hard line” on opioid dealers

Terry Curry

Indiana prosecutor takes “a hard line” on opioid dealers


Marion County Prosecutor Terry Curry has vowed to seek longer prison terms for drug dealers in an attempt to crack down on the opioid epidemic damaging Indianapolis and large regions of the country.

“Our office has made a decision that we are taking a hard line,” Curry recently told Fox 59 in Indianapolis. “We just feel it’s important that we make a statement and don’t lose sight that there is a criminal side to the opioid epidemic that’s occurring.”

Curry said his office will continue to divert low level drug possession cases and first time offenders to drug court for treatment in lieu of pursuing criminal sanctions. But he simultaneously argued it was important to push for long prison sentences for those dealing in large quantities of opioids and other drugs.

“There’s a distinction between those battling addiction and those who are feeding addiction,” Curry said.

The prosecutor showed he was serious earlier this month when his office secured long prison sentences for two individuals convicted of selling heroin. Frank Dangerfield was sentenced to 26 years in prison and Braxton Buxford was sentenced to 30 years in prison on similar charges. In addition to heroin, police found $7,928, 36 grams of cocaine, 125 grams of methamphetamine and 160 grams of fentanyl in Buxford’s vehicle.

Curry’s hard-line approach, however, is increasingly coming under fire by those who maintain that the opioid epidemic in this country should be treated as a public health, not criminal justice, crisis. For example, Northeastern University Law Professor Leo Beletsky, a public health and drug policy expert, said sending more people to prison for longer periods of time has never been an effective crime or drug prevention strategy.

“Locking people up during the 1980’s and 1990’s didn’t lower the crime rate or prevent people from using, and the same is true with opioids today,” Beletsky said. He argues that law enforcement should step aside to allow the health care community to play a larger role in addressing widespread opioid use. He concedes, however, “that’s hard for prosecutors to understand.”

“This gives them a chance to make themselves central to the crisis,” Beletsky said. “But we don’t usually expect prosecutors to respond to an epidemic.” Rather, he suggested, “that’s a role for epidemiologists and other medical personnel.”

Beletsky also maintained that Curry’s distinction between users and dealers — and the different treatments they should receive — is not always realistic.

“The people who sell are also the people who use,” he said. “And if you study the history, users always end up getting arrested.”

Feel-Good Victims Rights Legislation Doesn’t Help Victims

Flickr user Tom Arthur

Feel-Good Victims Rights Legislation Doesn’t Help Victims


This November, Ohio voters will consider a ballot measure that, if approved, will add new crime victim protections to the state constitution.

The proposed constitutional amendment is called the Ohio Crime Victims Bill of Rights or Marsy’s Law. It is based on a similar victims rights bill enacted in California in 2008, named for Marsalee “Marsy” Nicholas, a University of California Santa Barbara student who was stalked and killed by her boyfriend in 1983.

The Ohio version of Marsy’s Law would give crime victims the right to notification of all legal proceedings involving their case. Victims would also have the right to weigh in on plea deals, receive restitution, and to be notified when their perpetrator is released from custody. But state law and the Ohio constitution already contain victims rights provisions similar to Marsy’s Law.

Proponents argue that existing victims rights laws are not enforced, but Marsy’s Law does not address the problem of enforcement nor does it create a cause of action for damages or compensation against the state or a political subdivision if government violates victims’ constitutional rights.

Also, it could have unintended financial consequences, needlessly straining an already overburdened criminal justice system.

The Ohio Office of Management and Budget predicted that Marsy’s Law could impose significant costs on the local level, “particularly as they relate to the court system and public defender costs borne by counties.”

Its language also expands the definition of victim and treats low-level crime and violent crime too similarly.

It broadly defines “victim” to include those “directly or proximately harmed.” Critics, including public defenders, private defense attorneys, and prosecutors, have warned that this definition goes beyond, for example, a shooting victim in a store robbery, to cover the store owner and even the store’s insurance company.

The measure also puts violent crime on the same level as a low-level property crime, whereas existing victims rights laws are limited to felonies and certain misdemeanor offenses. While Ohio already has well-established protocol for providing notice and assistance to victims of violent crime, the services provided to victims of lower-level crimes — like petty theft, fraud, or harassment — are less clear. And while current law allows a victim to provide a statement during particular proceedings, Marsy’s Law would allow a victim or a victim’s representative to assert his or her rights in any proceeding involving the criminal offense. At the very least, extending services to victims of lower-level crimes would slow down court proceedings, which would be detrimental to victims.

Worst of all, Marsy’s Law could impinge on the fundamental rights of people accused of crimes.

For example, the measure would allow a victim to refuse an interview, deposition, or discovery requests, all at a moment when criminal defense attorneys already face huge obstacles in obtaining the discovery they need to effectively represent their clients. And in its effort to protect victims’ privacy, Marsy’s Law could erode a defendant’s right to confront his or her accuser.

Furthermore, allowing a victim to intervene at any stage in a criminal proceeding could threaten a defendant’s fundamental rights to fairness and a speedy trial.

Writing about a 2016 Marsy’s Law initiative in Montana, retired state Supreme Court justice James C. Nelson explained how making victims’ rights paramount to the rights of defendants could actually jeopardize cases:

If the defendant’s constitutional rights to a fair trial, to due process, to effective assistance of counsel, to confront and meet accusers and witnesses face to face and to compulsory process of witnesses [are compromised], both Montana and federal constitutional law may require that the charges against the defendant be dismissed or may require a second trial — the victims’ rights notwithstanding.

This is contrary to the interests of victims.

Rather than passing feel-good legislation, the best thing we can do for victims is solve serious crimes like murder and rape, as clearance rates for both have fallen to scandalous levels. In Detroit, for example, only 14 percent of killings were cleared in 2016. In Las Vegas police cleared only about 9% of rapes. Victims do not need expensive programs freighted with Sixth Amendment issues. They need justice.

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California jail hunger strikers: “We’re seeking humanity”

Alameda and Santa Clara County jail detainees round out the first week of a hunger strike for better conditions.

California jail hunger strikers: “We’re seeking humanity”

Alameda and Santa Clara County jail detainees round out the first week of a hunger strike for better conditions.


Sheri Costa’s life in Alameda County, California has always been touched by incarceration. Her father was in and out of prison her whole life, her ex-husband wound up in prison, and her brothers in law have been locked up. “It’s been a personal experience for me,” 56-year-old Costa tells In Justice Today. “It’s just been the norm in our family, which is sad to say.”

In 2015, her nephew Mario Martinez died in Alameda County’s Santa Rita Jail two days before his 30th birthday. Martinez collapsed and died of acute asthmatic respiratory insufficiency while in jail fighting charges of attempted murder and possession of stolen property, according to SFGate. Costa and her family alleged that Martinez was neglected by medical providers in the prison, who worked for Corizon Healthcare, a private corrections healthcare provider that has faced lawsuits across the country for substandard care of people in custody.

These personal connections drive Costa’s support of currently incarcerated people in Alameda and Santa Clara Counties who started a hunger strike this week to protest the conditions of the local jails. The strike began Sunday in Oakland’s Glenn Dyer Detention Facility, and spread to Santa Rita Jail. Prisoners in Santa Clara County Main Jail and Elmwood Correctional Complex plan to begin striking in solidarity on Sunday, Oct. 22, organizing as part of Prisoners United of Silicon Valley, a prisoner-led group that is backed by outside community-based civil rights groups.

The strikers have five core demands: “End indefinite solitary confinement, “end subjective grievance practices, end abuse of discretion to lockdown, end insufficient and unsanitary clothing, and end insufficient food and starvation for indigent prisoners.” As of Thursday evening, Costa says the Alameda County Sherriff’s office had not contacted the community organizers who are supporting the prisoners to sit down and discuss the issues at hand.

“We would disagree that any of their demands are not being met,” Sergeant Ray Kelly, the Alameda County Sheriff’s public information officer tells In Justice Today. “They’re making it sound like our county jail [Glenn Dyer] is some kind of very oppressive environment, and I would disagree with that…there’s a lot of care that goes on in there.”

“Our number one priority is the health and safety of those that are hunger striking, while respecting their right to protest,” added Kelly. “At some point we’re going to have to have a talk or sit down with the protesters.”

On Tuesday, Costa and groups such as Communities United for Restorative Youth Justice (CURYJ) rallied at the Board of Supervisors building in downtown Oakland. Marlene Sanchez, associate director of CURYJ who attended the rally, says these demands and issues have “been brought up before to supervisors, and they have been taking it really lightly, saying ‘no that stuff isn’t happening’….People have died inside and we still have not seen much change.”

Sanchez has heard from prisoners involved in the strike that the jails are serving them leftover food multiple days in a row, that many packages sent from loved ones are never received, and that they are not being provided with clean clothes (or a regularly opportunity to wash their clothing). Others tell her that people held in solitary confinement are sometimes not allowed out of their cells for more than two hours each month.

Kelly stipulates that the jails do not use solitary confinement, but instead use administrative segregation — which he says does not involve the same level of “sensory deprivation.” Advocates like Sanchez argue that these two labels describe the same thing, and research illustrates that prolonged isolation can have damaging mental health effects.

Costa hopes that the hunger strike will attract greater outside support for the prisoners, and draw a deeper understanding of how the mistreatment of jail detainees also effects their families. When one person breaks a rule and an entire facility is locked down for an extended period of time, she notes, families also pay the price.

“Most of these people are not even convicted,” Costa notes. “You’re taking humanity away from people who are sitting there because they can’t afford bail. They still deserve to be treated like a human being…We can do better than this.”

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