Eleven years ago, a couple of cops shot and killed a St. Bernard because it growled at them. And they did it in front of a little girl.
This wasn’t a pit bull or a Rottweiler or a Doberman. It was a St. Bernard. And no, it wasn’t Cujo. It was a family pet. And the cops shot it in front of a little kid.
To me there is no excuse. There is no justification. And there is not enough money in the world to make up for what they did.
But recently, after a lengthy court battle, the Harris family finally got justice for themselves and Seven, their slain St. Bernard. Specifically, the Connecticut city of Hartford reached a settlement with the family and agreed to pay them more than $800,000, which “includes damages and legal costs.”
To me an apology would have meant more. But in my opinion, a man who is capable of shooting a dog in cold blood isn’t capable of the human decency, much less the compassion and humility necessary to make a proper apology.
Paws up, don’t shoot!
Police claim Seven “growled” and “sprinted at them” when they showed up at the Harris house without a warrant in 2006.
According to news reports, Sgt. Johnmichael O’Hare and Sgt. Anthony Pia went to the residence after a gang member told them that ” two guns were stashed in an abandoned car in the backyard of (Glenn) Harris’ home.”
The officers didn’t find what they were looking for and were about to leave the yard when Seven acted on instinct. That’s when O’Hare shot and killed him.
According to published reports, “Harris’ daughter, who was nearby, claimed she saw O’Hare put the third bullet in Seven’s head, and that he then told her: ‘Sorry Miss. Your dog isn’t going to make it.'”
See you in court
Glenn Harris took matters into his own hands in 2008. That’s when he filed a lawsuit against the officers alleging constitutional violations and intentional infliction of emotional distress.
But as we all know, the wheels of justice turn very, very slowly. In this case it was four years from the time Harris filed the suit until a jury returned its verdict. When it did, it sided with the cops.
Luckily the story didn’t end there.
In 2012, the 2nd Circuit Court of Appeals in New York revisited the matter. And it reached a different conclusion. Specifically, Judge Rosemary Pooler found that the officers did nothing wrong when they followed up on the tip, However she also said they did not have the right to set foot on the property without a warrant.
If only the cops had figured that out in the first place…
“Before Miller, every juvenile convicted of a homicide offense could be sentenced to life without parole. After Miller, it will be the rare juvenile offender who can receive that same sentence.”
– from the majority opinion in the recent Supreme Court of the United States (SCOTUS) ruling on Montgomery v. Louisiana, delivered by Justice Anthony M. Kennedy.
Four years ago, a Supreme Court ruling in Miller v. Alabama put an end to life sentences without the possibility of parole for most young killers.
The majority held that children are fundamentally different from adults, and that several key characteristics specific to minors — such as lack of maturity and the propensity for some to be easily influenced –should be taken into account when they are sentenced. Furthermore, SCOTUS ruled, an offender’s ability to change must also be taken into account. Finally, the Court said that a life sentence without the possibility of parole is too severe in most cases, and essentially amounts to cruel and unusual punishment.
Last week, America’s highest court held that the 2012 ruling can be applied retroactively.
In other words, all juvenile offenders found guilty of murder and sentenced to life without the possibility of parole at any time before the Miller decision took effect must now get a chance to seek it. According to published reports, that could affect up to 1,000 offenders in three states.
Looking at these decisions from a strictly logical — rather than a strictly legal — standpoint, it is clear that they reveal a basic but serious flaw in the American justice system.
As we all know, the system is designed to protect the defendant’s rights from the time he or she is first questioned by the authorities through a trial (if the case comes to that) and beyond. The goal is to thwart unscrupulous police conduct, prevent wrongful conviction and remedy wrongful conviction if it occurs.
The preservation of a defendant’s Constitutional rights is paramount, and understandably so.
On the other hand — as the SCOTUS rulings in Miller and Montgomery demonstrate — the system routinely shows little regard, much less compassion, for victims and their families.
Of course it goes without saying that not all victims of violent crime are fine, upstanding, law-abiding citizens. One could even argue that some people who are murdered deserve their fate. Make no mistake about it: my argument does not pertain to them, but to ordinary people who have been killed in cold blood. It also pertains to the “young offenders” who have taken their lives.
Take Henry Montgomery. Today he is known as the petitioner in Montgomery v. Louisiana. But he was just 17 when he killed a cop in East Baton Rouge back in 1963. He was ultimately convicted and sentenced to life in prison without the possibility of parole and is now 69.
In delivering the court’s decision that the Miller ruling should apply to Montgomery’s case, Justice Kennedy wrote:
“Extending parole eligibility to juvenile offenders does not impose an onerous burden on the States, nor does it disturb the finality of state convictions. Those prisoners who have shown an inability to reform will continue to serve life sentences. The opportunity for release will be afforded to those who demonstrate the truth of Miller’s central intuition — that children who commit even heinous crimes are capable of change.”
After spending most of his life in prison, Montgomery claims that he has changed. Maybe that’s true and maybe it isn’t. The bottom line is that he was convicted of killing Charles Hurt. A jury determined that Montgomery robbed Hurt of his future, and robbed Hurt’s family of a future with him. And that will never change.
Yet the Court makes no mention of the toll the crime likely took on Montgomery’s loved ones in its January 25 ruling on his case. Instead, Kennedy quotes from another case, Graham v. Florida, writing:
“Because retribution ‘relates to an offender’s blameworthiness, the case for retribution is not as strong with a minor as with an adult.'”
Yes, it would seem that a young killer’s rights trump all. The fact that a life has been taken means little. The fact that a family is left behind to pick up the pieces means nothing if the murderer was young, or too stupid to know better, or easily influenced.
A cynic could even say the odds are stacked against victims, their loved ones and the hard-working prosecutors that seek justice for them.
As anyone with even the most basic knowledge of criminal justice can tell you, crimes are committed against the community, not individuals. So technically, prosecuting attorneys represent “the people,” not the individual victim. In and of itself, that fundamental lack of personal advocacy can be confusing and frustrating, especially for those traumatized by violent crime.
Then there are the rules that can prevent the revelation of certain information about the defendant — such as prior convictions — at trial because it could be prejudicial. On the other hand, there’s little to keep the defense from calling witnesses to discredit the victim — especially if there’s anything sketchy in his or her past.
Now, to make matters even worse, the families of people murdered by minors initially sentenced to life in prison without the possibility of parole must come to grips with the fact that those killers may someday go free. For those who wish to prevent it, their only recourse may be to write the Parole Board or appear at the offender’s parole hearing to have their say.
I can only imagine how scary, unpleasant and stressful that would be. It would be cruel and unusual punishment, indeed.
*Because this blog is written for a general audience, Bluebook citations are not included.
“Nothing surprises me, but many things disappoint me.”
It’s something I often said while working as a reporter for more than 20 years — and it’s something that remains true today.
So, no, I wasn’t surprised when my daily search for blog fodder unearthed a recent techdirt.com article about the Virginia Supreme Court’s failure to implement new rules that would correct alleged imbalances the Commonwealth’s court system.
But I was definitely disappointed.
As I said, the premise of the article in question is that Virginia’s court system is flawed and willingly operates in such a way that the odds are constantly stacked against defendants. Furthermore, comprehensive policy review and public pressure has done nothing to convince those in charge to change the status quo.
That may all be true. In fact, after spending more than eight years on the cops and courts beat in Fauquier County, I don’t doubt it.
But perhaps the author wouldn’t have painted Virginia’s judicial system with such a broad — and scathing — brush if he’d been sitting with me in Fauquier County Circuit Court a few years ago.
Back then I was covering a case in which a man employed at the Pentagon was facing charges after he allegedly hit a state trooper with his car at the Virginia Gold Cup (or perhaps it was the International Gold Cup) steeple chase races at the Great Meadow Field Events Center in The Plains. The accused, who held some sort of military rank (I believe he was a lieutenant colonel) had supposedly been drinking and engaged in a verbal dispute with the trooper as he was leaving the grounds. When the trooper told him to stop his car, the man allegedly refused and the vehicle knocked the trooper to the ground.
When the case finally made its way to Circuit Court, the accused appeared in his military uniform. Now to me, that was highly unusual and highly questionable. After all, anyone who has ever covered courts knows that defendants in criminal cases can’t be tried in their “jail jumps” because it could potentially prejudice the jury. So why on earth would a defendant in a criminal case be allowed to appear in a military uniform? Couldn’t that also sway a jury, especially while the U.S. was in the midst of a war in the Middle East?
Never mind. That’s a rhetorical question. In my opinion, it did. In my opinion, this guy was allowed to wear his uniform in order to increase his chances of acquittal. And it worked. He didn’t even get a slap on the wrist. And when he got off, he celebrated by doing a little “victory dance” outside of the courthouse.
As far as I am concerned, his behavior was a disgrace to his uniform, and in his case, the odds were stacked against the prosecution.