August
30, 2002 9:00 a.m. Intelligent
Life Discovered in an L.A. Jury Room
A
federal-court jury rejects claim of racial profiling.
aints
be praised! My faith in the jury system, having been crushed, shredded,
and ripped to bits years ago by the O. J. Simpson travesty, is at last
on the mend. On Monday, a unanimous federal-court jury ruled that a group
of Los Angeles Police Department officers did not violate three black
motorists' civil rights during a 1999 traffic stop. The jury debated seven
hours before rejecting the plaintiffs' claims that they were victims of
racial profiling, excessive force, and unlawful search. Making the victory
all the sweeter was the fact that the plaintiffs were represented by Stephen
Yagman, a man who has derived a handsome income and, it seems to me, inordinate
glee from hauling most of the police officers in Southern California into
various courtrooms over the years.
On
the afternoon of July 3, 1999, two LAPD officers were patrolling in the
heavy, holiday-weekend traffic near Venice Beach. When they saw a red
Volvo make a right turn without stopping for a red traffic signal, they
began following it with the idea of issuing the driver a citation. Observing
customary procedure, the officers checked the Volvo's license number on
their police car's computer before pulling it over. The return from the
Department of Motor Vehicles' database indicated that the license plate
did not belong to a Volvo, but rather to some other type of car. "Well
now," one officer probably said to the other, "something's fishy
here." Believing they may have been following a stolen car, the officers
broadcast a request for additional units, several of which responded.
A police helicopter was shortly overhead, also.
The officers stopped
the Volvo and, at gunpoint, ordered the male and two female occupants
to exit and lie facedown on the ground. The three were handcuffed and
searched, then helped to their feet and escorted to the side of the street,
all through which they were screaming bloody murder about how they were
being mistreated. The officers soon discovered that the Volvo was not
in fact stolen, nor was there anything at all in the way of criminal behavior
afoot. (Alas, being a crybaby is still perfectly legal.) The DMV, being
the ever-efficient government behemoth it is, had sent the wrong set of
license plates to the Volvo's owner, who, never suspecting there had been
a snafu, put them on her car to await the fateful encounter. A mistake,
certainly, but not on the part of the cops.
The officers and
their sergeant fell all over themselves apologizing to the three, one
of whom was a juvenile-court judge from Portsmouth, Virginia. Stuff your
apologies, they said, we'll see you in court. So now they have, and they
walked out of court on Monday with a big goose egg for their troubles.
The Los Angeles Times reported that the plaintiffs declined to
comment as they left the courtroom. You can bet they would have had plenty
to say if the jury had gone the other way, as would have the Times,
which buried the story on Page 4 of the second section in Tuesday's paper.
If the jury had bought the plaintiffs' argument, the story would have
been above-the-fold, front-page stuff, and would have included plenty
of editorializing about the need for "reform" and "sensitivity"
in the LAPD.
Granted, I'm sure
it was an altogether unpleasant experience to be pulled over at gunpoint
and ordered to lie on the asphalt on that hot July afternoon. But the
California Court of Appeal has wisely noted that "[o]urs is a government
of laws, to preserve which we require law-enforcement officers —
live ones." And to remain alive we must sometimes `follow certain
procedures, one of which is to point guns at people we reasonably believe
might be dangerous. Yet the theory adopted by the plaintiffs in this case
would demand that police officers somehow intuit that they are confronting
law-abiding citizens, even when presented with evidence to the contrary.
It is the cop who lets his guard down, the cop who ignores the danger
signs for fear of getting a complaint, the cop who leaves his gun in his
holster because he's afraid he might be sued, this is the cop whose family
will hear the knock on the door in the middle of the night. He is the
cop who won't be coming home.
Every cop has heard
the old saw: Better to be tried by twelve than carried by six. Better
still to be tried by twelve who, like those jurors in L.A. on Monday,
can summon the courage to fling a group of whiny plaintiffs down the courthouse
steps.
—
Jack Dunphy is an officer in the Los Angeles Police Department. "Jack
Dunphy" is the author's nom de cyber. The opinions expressed are
his own and almost certainly do not reflect those of the LAPD management.
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aints
be praised! My faith in the jury system, having been crushed, shredded,
and ripped to bits years ago by the O. J. Simpson travesty, is at last
on the mend. On Monday, a unanimous federal-court jury ruled that a group
of Los Angeles Police Department officers did not violate three black
motorists' civil rights during a 1999 traffic stop. The jury debated seven
hours before rejecting the plaintiffs' claims that they were victims of
racial profiling, excessive force, and unlawful search. Making the victory
all the sweeter was the fact that the plaintiffs were represented by Stephen
Yagman, a man who has derived a handsome income and, it seems to me, inordinate
glee from hauling most of the police officers in Southern California into
various courtrooms over the years. 
