Tag: police accountability

“Over his 17 years on the job — including eight as the union president of the Fraternal Order of Police in South Florida — 49 people have complained about him to Internal Affairs as he amassed 19 official use-of-force incidents, $600,000 in lawsuit settlements and a book’s worth of terrible headlines related to his record and his racially inflammatory social media posts, many of which attacked alleged victims of police violence.

Yet Ortiz has repeatedly beaten back attempts to discipline him. He returned to work in March from a yearlong paid suspension during which state and federal investigators examined whether he “engaged in a pattern of abuse and bias against minorities, particularly African Americans … [and] has been known for cyber-stalking and doxing civilians who question his authority or file complaints against him.” The investigation was launched after three Miami police sergeants accused him of abusing his position and said the department had repeatedly botched investigations into him.

But investigators concluded their hands were tied because 13 of the 19 use-of-force complaints were beyond the five-year statute of limitations, and the others lacked enough hard evidence beyond the assertions of the alleged victims. The findings underscored a truism in many urban police departments: The most troublesome cops are so insulated by protective union contracts and laws passed by politicians who are eager to advertise their law-and-order bona fides that removing them is nearly impossible — even when their own colleagues are witnesses against them.”

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“As a police officer with an encyclopedic knowledge of labor law and grievance procedures, Ortiz shielded himself over the years with the extensive protections woven into the local union’s collective bargaining agreement and Florida’s “Law Enforcement Officers’ Bill of Rights,” a police-friendly law that passed decades ago and has been continuously beefed up with bipartisan support. He has also availed himself of a controversial judicial doctrine, called qualified immunity, which shields police from certain forms of liability.
Among the special provisions that have made policing Florida’s police so difficult is a rule in the bill of rights that says all investigations must be wrapped up in 180 days. Critics say the rule is a vehicle for sympathetic colleagues to protect an officer simply by dragging their feet. In its review of Ortiz, the Florida Department of Law Enforcement reported that between 2013 and 2018 seven citizen complaints against him were voided because the department failed to finish investigating within the prescribed time limit.

An even more significant obstacle in the bill of rights is a rule that officers must be shown all evidence against them before they are interviewed about complaints — a right that isn’t afforded to civilians and that flies in the face of normal investigative techniques. It allows officers to tailor their responses to the evidence, avoid being caught in lies and even, says former Miami police chief Art Acevedo, “interfere with the investigation or retaliate” against witnesses.”

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“Ortiz’s record stands out sharply compared with those of his peers. The 49 citizen complaints against him are 2½ times more than the combined complaints against the department’s four other captains. Those other captains also have a combined 16 use of force incidents on their records, three fewer than the 19 on Ortiz’s record.”

“Additional video shows three cops—Hopp, Jalia, and Tyler Blackett—watching the footage the day they booked Garner.

“Ready for the pop?” asks Hopp, as Jalia squirms and appears visibly uncomfortable. “Hear the pop?”

“What’d you pop?” asks Blackett. “I think it was her shoulder,” responds Hopp, as he re-enacts the motion.

“I hate it,” says Jalia.

“I love it,” one of the male officers responds. Garner did not receive medical care for six hours after the ordeal, according to the suit. (Blackett later resigned.)

Loveland Police Chief Robert Ticer has claimed that the department was unaware of the extent of the brutality until the lawsuit became public, but the contents of an internal report released yesterday appear to directly contradict that, with documents showing that Assistant Chief of Police Ray Butler viewed the footage and said that Hopp’s actions were “necessary, reasonable and within policy.”

“There is no excuse, under any circumstances, for what happened to Ms. Garner. We have agreed on steps we need to take to begin building back trust,” Ticer said in a statement. “While these actions won’t change what Ms. Garner experienced, they will serve to improve this police department and hopefully restore faith that the LPD exists to serve those who live in and visit Loveland.” He also said that department policy now requires an assistant city attorney and personnel from city of Loveland human resources to review use of force incidents, as opposed to just a member of the police force. Sarah Schielke, an attorney for the family, has called for his resignation.”

“For years, St. Paul police officer Heather Weyker was swamped. She gathered evidence, cultivated witnesses, filled out the police reports, testified under oath—all in connection with an interstate sex trafficking ring run by Somali refugees. But perhaps most impressive is that she did all that while fabricating the same ring she was investigating, which resulted in 30 indictments, 9 trials, and 0 convictions.

Hamdi Mohamud, then a 16-year-old refugee from Somalia, found herself caught up in that scheme in 2011, when one of Weyker’s witnesses, Muna Abdulkadir, tried to attack her and her friends at knifepoint. Mohamud called the police, and Weyker intervened—on behalf of Abdulkadir. She arrested Mohamud and her friends for allegedly tampering with a federal witness, and Mohamud subsequently spent two years in jail before the trumped-up charges were dismissed.

While Mohamud lost those two years of her life, Weyker has not paid any price—not in spite of her position, but because of it. Since the officer conducted her investigation as part of a federal task force, she is entitled to absolute immunity and cannot be sued, the U.S. Court of Appeals for the 8th Circuit ruled last year.”

“”Middle-management circuit judges must salute smartly and follow precedent,” Judge Don Willett regretfully explained in his concurring opinion. “And today’s result is precedentially inescapable: Private citizens who are brutalized—even killed—by rogue federal officers can find little solace” in U.S. Supreme Court case law. The unfortunate reality, Willett observed, is that “if you wear a federal badge, you can inflict excessive force on someone with little fear of liability.”
Vindicating your rights in court is a cornerstone of the rule of law. As the famous British jurist William Blackstone observed, “in vain would rights be declared, in vain directed to be observed, if there were no method of recovering and asserting those rights, when wrongfully withheld or invaded.”

Blackstone’s dire scenario resembles what is happening in the United States today in cases like Byrd v. Lamb. File suit for damages against a lawless federal officer, and the federal courts likely will toss the suit in the name of following precedent. As Willett noted in his judicial protest, “redress for a federal officer’s unconstitutional acts is either extremely limited or wholly nonexistent, allowing federal officials to operate in something resembling a Constitution-free zone.””

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“If a Bivens claim arises in a “new context,” meaning “the case is different in a meaningful way from previous Bivens cases decided by this Court,” Justice Anthony Kennedy wrote, the presiding judge must scour the record for any “special factors counselling hesitation.” For example, Kennedy said, “the risk of personal damages liability is more likely to cause an officer to second-guess difficult but necessary decisions concerning national security policy.” If any such “special factor” is found (or simply invented by the judge), the lawsuit against the federal officer must be dismissed.”

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“The lower courts got the message. In Oliva v. Nivar (2020), the 5th Circuit dismissed a Bivens claim by 70-year-old José Oliva, a Vietnam veteran who was beaten and permanently injured by federal police at a Department of Veterans Affairs hospital in El Paso, Texas. According to Oliva, the officers took a disliking to him because he did not immediately show his ID, which was momentarily out of his reach in a metal detector bin. He also spoke up against their verbal bullying. “I got a problem with this man,” one of the officers reportedly said about Oliva’s lack of deference. “He’s got an attitude.” The same officer placed Oliva in a chokehold and slammed him to the ground, severely injuring his shoulder.

The 5th Circuit characterized Oliva’s civil rights lawsuit as a “new context,” which is basically the kiss of death for Bivens claims. Yes, the court admitted, both Oliva and Bivens centered on allegations of Fourth Amendment violations by federal officers. But “this case differs from Bivens in several meaningful ways.” For one, “the case arose in a government hospital, not a private home.” For another, “the VA officers were manning a metal detector, not making a warrantless search for narcotics.” From there it was all too easy for the 5th Circuit to find “special factors counselling hesitation,” such as the fact that Congress specifically “did not make individual officers liable for excessive-force claims.”

In sum, thanks to SCOTUS-sanctioned legal hairsplitting, a victim of abusive federal policing did not even get a chance to make his case for damages.”

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“Bivens became “a ‘disfavored’ judicial activity” because a majority of the Supreme Court has come to see it as an example of judicial activism, a modern ruling that empowered federal judges to do something they should not do. The late Justice Antonin Scalia called Bivens “a relic of the heady days in which this Court assumed common-law powers to create causes of action.” Justice Clarence Thomas has argued that “the analysis underlying Bivens cannot be defended.”

But was Bivens really such a radical departure? Not when considered in the full light of American legal history. Indeed, the idea that federal judges have the authority to impose damages against lawless federal officers is as old as the republic—older, in fact, since it comes from venerable British common law judgments that directly influenced the founding generation.”

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“America’s founding generation was deeply committed to seeing the judiciary hold wayward federal officers civilly liable for their misdeeds. That commitment is readily apparent when you examine the debates over the ratification of the Constitution, in which both sides subscribed to this particular view of the judicial role.

In 1788, for instance, the Anti-Federalist writer known as Maryland Farmer argued that “whenever an officer had deviated from the rigid letter of the law,” that officer should be forced to pay “ruinous damages.” But under the proposed Constitution, Maryland Farmer feared, federal judges might refuse to award damages to “spare the public purse, if not favour a brother officer.”

George Mason, another Anti-Federalist, raised the same concern at the Virginia ratifying convention. Speaking on June 19, 1788, Mason worried that the new federal judiciary could not be trusted “to bring officers to justice.” Suppose “any of the federal officers should be guilty of the greatest oppressions, or behave with the most insolent and wanton brutality to a man’s wife or daughter,” Mason demanded, “where is this man to get relief?”

Federalist John Marshall, the future chief justice of the United States, responded to Mason the next day. Mason “says that the officers of the government will be screened from merited punishment by the federal judiciary,” Marshall said. “The federal sheriff, [Mason] says, will go into a poor man’s house and beat him, or abuse his family, and the federal court will protect him.”

Nonsense, Marshall declared. “Will such great insults on the people of this country be allowable?” he asked. “Were a law made to authorize them, it would be void. The injured man would trust to a [judicial] tribunal in his neighborhood. To such a tribunal he would apply for redress, and get it.”

Marshall proved as good as his word while serving as chief justice. In Little v. Barreme (1804), he led the Supreme Court in finding a U.S. naval officer liable for trespass after he seized a ship based on an illegitimate presidential order. “The law must take its course,” Marshall wrote, “and he must pay such damages as are legally awarded against him.” Likewise, in Wise v. Withers (1806), Marshall found a District of Columbia justice of the peace liable for trespass after the officer entered a man’s home without legal authority.

Such rulings against rogue federal officers continued to appear in subsequent decades. “At the Founding, and for much of American history, there was no question as to whether federal courts had the power to provide judge-made damages remedies against individual federal officers,” observed University of Texas law professor Stephen Vladeck in the Cato Supreme Court Review: 2019–2020. “Not only did federal courts routinely provide such relief, but the Supreme Court repeatedly blessed the practice.” The Bivens case—in which federal drug cops were held civilly liable for unconstitutional search and seizure—is consistent with this noble legal tradition.”

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“Whatever the solution, it is long past time for the many victims of rights-violating federal officers to start getting some redress in court.”

“The family of Porter Feller says that a lie told by a Seattle police officer led to Feller’s suicide, according to a lawsuit they have filed against the city. Feller was involved in what the lawsuit describes as a “minor” car accident. No one reported injuries, and Feller left the scene. Later that day, Officer Matthew Kerby went to Feller’s house to get his ID and insurance information. Kerby told a fellow officer he “planned on using a ruse.” He was caught on video and audio saying, “It’s a lie, but it’s fun.” Feller wasn’t at the house when Kerby arrived, so Kerby told one of Feller’s friends that he had been involved in a hit-and-run accident and critically injured a woman who “might not survive,” the lawsuit said. According to the lawsuit, when informed of Kerby’s remark, Feller became increasingly distraught. He committed suicide four days later. The Seattle Office of Police Accountability found that Kerby’s lie was “abuse of his discretion.” It said Kerby’s lie “shocked fundamental fairness” and that he acted “without any apparent consideration of the possible consequences.” The department suspended him without pay for six days.”