The hearings began soon after we finished the interviews, and we all looked closely at the television screen in front of us, and listened intently to the computer speakers.  Because the city did not have enough resources to bring the inmates from central lock-up to the courthouse, which was only a block away, the judge held hearings via webcam.  Although a resourceful way to hold hearings, it still struck me as very odd that although the city did not have the resources to transport the inmates to the courthouse, the judge did not walk over to the House of D to hold the hearings.

The judge inquired into the prior records of each defendant to set the bail amounts.  On the drug related charges, he consistently asked how much drugs were found on the defendant because of the New Orleans Police Department policy of arresting individuals using drugs along with anyone found with that person.  He quickly held hearings for the 45 inmates we interviewed and we recorded the bail amounts as he set them so that we could call and inform the inmates' relative or whoever that he was in jail and what the bail was set at.  Then the room cleared as quickly as it filled and only empty chairs remained.

The "House of D" sits amidst a block of buildings flooded by Hurricane Katrina.  With no resources to restore the buildings, they sit abandoned.  Plants are quickly claiming territory.

Outside the "House of D," Andy answers our questions.

Mike Akerly, Kathy Hwang, Adam "Tom" Shane, Choya Washington, Suyeon Kim 

 Suits, Ties and Guys

"What are you guys, lawyers?  You guys are like carpetbaggers from the North."

- The owner of our hotel

The criminal courthouse stands on a desolate strip of Tulane Avenue, a speedy four-lane roadway that turns into a highway.  Like most courthouses, most of the business signage around it is for bail bondsmen.  The courthouse itself is beautiful, and the lobby area leading to the courtrooms has what looks like fifty foot vaulted ceilings.  Soaring windows line the wall across from the courtroom doors.  The floors are marble, and intricate moldings and murals of blind and beautiful Justice cover the height of the walls, reaching up to the ceiling. 

"The Impartial Administration of Justice is the Foundation of Liberty."

Engraving on the Orleans Parish Criminal Court.

We observed Tanzanike, a public defender, argue in Section L before Judge Alarcon.  The state asked for continuances on most of the cases, so she didn't have to do much arguing when we were there.  At one point, another defender named Stewart asked that the judge dismiss a case because the state had failed to ever produce evidence against his client.  His urging was met by bitter frustration on the part of Judge Alarcon over the state of the criminal justice system.  He flatly stated that "The degree of incompetence in this system is mindboggling."  He continued, "I say it on the record every day."  We were struck by the court's seeming inability to order police to bring evidence to an apperance on an appointed date.  Judge Alarcon remarked that, "I really don't believe anything that anyone tells me on the condition of evidence.  I don't think they really know." 

Kathy Hwang and OPD lawyer Tanzanike review notes for a motion to appeal. 

The Orleans Public Defenders' office is located in downtown New Orleans, on the seventh floor of an office building a few steps from the Magistrate Court and the House of Detention.  The offices take up the entire floor, and quotations in gothic capital letters are the primary decorations in the public spaces: from Nietzsche ("Distrust all in whom the impulse to punish is powerful.") to Theodore Roosevelt ("Far better it is to dare mighty things, to win glorious triumphs, even though checkered by failure, than to take rank with those poor spirits who neither enjoy much nor suffer much, because they live in the gray twilight that knows not victory nor defeat.")  The office is bright and spacious, with windows with 360 degree views, but there are still no nameplates on the doors.  The office tower in which the defenders office is in an area where the effects of Katrina are still very visible: the views from the windows include houses that look abandoned with torn roofs.  The nearby House of Detention has a rust colored stain on its doors and walls at chest-height, marking the flood water line.  The House of Detention's capacity has also never recovered its capacity since Hurricane Katrina, so tents have appeared behind it to accommodate the jail population.  More recent hurricanes are also making an impact:after a courthouse flooded with three inches of water last week, it was closed and other courtrooms are picking up the slack.

 

If anything, public defenders are busy.  We walked in at ten past nine (late because we couldn't find Tulane Avenue, where the office is located), and before we could get comfortable in the conference room, we were grabbed by various attorneys and given assignments.  Choya went off to help a staff attorney in court with a trial (the client was acquitted!); another staff attorney grabbed Mike and took him off to do some research on the public records hearsay exception; Kathy began to research a memo on eyewitness identification; and Adam and I helped out at arraignments and bond hearings.

Adam assists OPD lawyer Matt Robnett with research.

Mike drafts a memo.

Arraignments were an opportunity to view the Louisiana criminal justice system from the very beginning of the process.  Just insisde the "House of D" (the rest of the word "detention" had fallen off the entrance's sign), in the old line-up identification room, thirty defendants in neon orange shirts emblazoned "OPP" for "Orleans Parish Prison" sat in folding chairs, each one shackled to a fellow defendant at his ankles.  A large flat screen television stood at the elevated space at the head of the room.  Arraignments were held via webcam.  At the appointed time, the judge appeared on the screen.  Via the screen, he would call a name, and that person would stand, along with his shackled compatriot, and they would both shuffle to the front so the judge could see them on his screen.  Both the client and the judge had a public defender on their side: one helped the clients, and the other argued for bond amounts before the judge.  The webcam only had a microphone for the judge, so defendants could not hear the arguments of the prosecutor, or the responses of the public defender.  The crimes I observed being arraigned ranged from marijuana possession to one case of aggravated rape (bail set at $200,000).  Most were crack/cocaine possession, and the judge generally set bail at around $20,000 (of which the defendant would have to post thirteen percent, or about $2,000).  I couldn't hear what the public defender was arguing, but the lack of variation in bail amounts for particular charges suggested that the individual variables, like flight risk and ties to the community, were given marginal weight by the court.  In a too-classic example of the race distinctions in the criminal justice system, the only person whose case was dismissed was white.  Every other defendant was black, with the exception of one latino man, and they all went back to the pen. 

To summarize, the first day on the job was both an eye-opening experience, as well as a welcome opportunity for us to apply our legal training in concrete ways.  Tomorrow promises to be equally exciting. 

Here is an article from CNN.com from just this past Friday that briefly describes the latest development in the ongoing struggle for adequately funded indigent defense in New Orleans: a criminal court judge ordered the release of 42 criminal defendants because they were not receiving adequate representation (the judge immediately stayed the order to mid-April).  The last paragraph is a quote from the head of the Defenders Office, Steve Singer, who suggested that the judge was frustrated by the Louisiana state legislature's failure to allocate the requisite funding to create a functional defender's office:

New Orleans judge orders 42 freed

POSTED: 3:13 p.m. EDT, March 30, 2007

NEW ORLEANS, Louisiana (AP) -- A judge on Friday ordered the release of up to 42 criminal defendants, saying they aren't being adequately represented by the city's financially struggling indigent defenders office.

But Orleans Criminal Court Judge Arthur Hunter immediately delayed the order to mid April.

It wasn't clear how many suspects would be released after April 18 if Hunter's order stands.

The order would suspend their prosecution but not dismiss the charges against them.

Assistant District Attorney David Pipes said his office might appeal. He said most of the 42 defendants face drug charges, but several are charged with violent crimes, including armed robbery and sexual battery.

Hunter faulted the Louisiana Legislature for failing to adequately fund the Indigent Defenders Office in New Orleans.

"Hurricane Katrina is no longer an excuse and the state has a budget surplus. Indigent defense in New Orleans is unbelievable, unconstitutional, totally lacking the basic professional standards of legal representation and a mockery of what a criminal justice system should be in a western civilized nation," the judge wrote.

Before the hurricane hit, three-quarters of the defenders office's budget was financed by traffic court fines. That revenue dried up after the Katrina devastated New Orleans in August 2005.

Hunter, who had released some inmates facing misdemeanor drug possession charges last year for the same reason, said he delayed his new release order so he could get more information from the District Attorney's Office, the state bar association and the indigent defenders.

"I think the judge is clearly frustrated with the Louisiana Legislature's repeated failure to step up to its obligation to fund a critical aspect of the criminal justice system -- that is, indigent defense," said Stephen Singer, lead trial counsel for the public defenders office.

Judging from this article, it looks like we won't lack for things to do during our stay.   

Her husband has since taken a job driving a truck for Lowes, and is gone for long stretches of time. Lauren has begun working as a construction worker, she looks at us to see if we understand how ridiculous this is. She reiterates, "a construction worker! I'm a girly girl!" FEMA has not reimbursed her for her hospital bills and did not assist her in any other ways. She is currently working construction for a condo that was bought by a "head honcho" at FEMA, taking advantage of the low cost of the land in Mississippi. Again, she stops to make sure we see the irony here.

Finally, Lauren tells us about a robbery attempt the previous night. At around 2:30 police were called to her home because burglars had broken in. Lauren tells us, "I know it wasn't anyone from this neighborhood, they all know I have rifle." She smiles at us in a sad, amused way, "and they know, I know how to use it." Then her smile broadens, "That's why around here, they call me, Daisy Mae."

Contributed by Lena

Ms. Moses is a partner in Carver, Darden, Koretzky, Tessier, Finn, Blossman & Areaux. She has been an attorney for seventeen years. She currently practices while chairing the board of Second Harvest Food bank of Greater New Orleans, since 2004.

Ms. Moses speaks to students about pre-levees New Orleans.

Ms. Jayroe is the President and CEO of Second Harvest. She came on board right before the storm. She was in the hospitality industry beforehand but decided to put her efforts into public service. She plead with her company to send her to New Orleans instead of San Diego so that she could help with the relief efforts.

It has been a year and a half since the levees broke and both ladies agreed that it was the local and national non-profits and volunteers that are mainly responsible for the recovery thus far. Organizations, such as Second Harvest, have stepped in place of the federal, state, and local government. Congressmen even refused to visit the city and the members that did only did so after being personally invited and/or flown down. Ms. Moses and Jayroe also said that the main problems in the city, which were exacerbated by the hurricanes, continue to be crime and education. In addition, the police force and the legal system are in shambles. There have been 9 murders so far this year, many children are unsupervised because their parents are deceased and there are about four public schools open. There is also a huge problem with a shortage of housing and price gouging because of the lack of regulation. Moreover, Ms. Jayroe says that less than half of the hospitals are in operation, there are about 15 psychiatric beds throughout the city, and the suicide rates are higher than before Hurricanes Rita and Katrina. Meanwhile, Ms. Moses said that FEMA has set up a reimbursement program that pays 90% but requires that the local government have the other 10% before being eligible to receive the money. The problem with the reimbursement program is that the local government has many projects to do and absolutely no money to do it with therefore they can’t come up with the 10% necessary to begin them and it becomes a “chicken and egg” problem. This leads to troubles such as the city losing 60 million of gallons of water, a day, because of the cracked pipes that can’t be fixed.

With dissipating media coverage since the levees first broke the nation has somewhat forgotten about our problems in the United States and shifted attention elsewhere. There is a lot much more to be done here in New Orleans and on the Gulf Coast of Mississippi. Ms. Moses and Jayroe said that everyone can help by volunteering, visiting the city, and going back to their home states and keeping the nation informed about the continuing problem.

To be in this city feels like how people describe Sao Paolo. There is beauty, extreme poverty, devastation, and a civil society that floats overhead, working out of decayed offices, mired in the corruption and political infighting of a political class that seems completely removed from the reality of the situation it is tasked with overseeing.

A destroyed building in downtown New Orleans

Since January 1, there have been more murders in New Orleans then there are days in this new year. Leaving the D.A.’s office, we waded into a crowded protest outside of city hall. Anderson Cooper was standing next to us. The crowd was as diverse as the banners they held aloft. An old white lady in pearls stood alongside a young mother whose t-shirt proclaimed her residency in the lower 9th ward. A sign demanding the National Guard leave Iraq and enter New Orleans fought for airspace with another advocating the payment of loans to small businesses. People are fearful of the violence the police are doing little to control, and angry at the mayor, state, and feds for basically ignoring their plight.

Pictures of New Orleans Protest - January 11, 2007

Pictures of New Orleans Protest - January 11, 2007

Pictures of New Orleans Protest - January 11, 2007

Pictures of New Orleans Protest - January 11, 2007

Pictures of New Orleans Protest - It's Anderson Cooper! - January 11, 2007

Locals give different estimates for how long it will take to rebuild the city, anywhere from one to several decades. But uniformly, however expert or amateur the prognosis, it always ends with the resigned sigh, “if ever.”

We see this in our search for DNA evidence. One day, the evidence that sits unaccounted for will be itemized. One day the various fiefs and agencies will coordinate their tasks and centralize their databases. One day they all might even have databases. But when, and to what degree such rehabilitation and modernization of this decrepit system will ever take place, can today only be answered with “if ever.”

Brian and Laura on the steps of Orleans Parish Criminal Courthouse

Oh, the food and music down here are fantastic, and the people are so friendly. To see how they live breaks my goddamn heart.

Mrs. Tanzy explains tells her story.

Lunch in the Tanzy trailer.

Tanzy trailer bedroom.

The Tanzys have now been in their trailer for almost a year and a half while rebuilding their home. They have made a lot of progress, rebuilding the roof, purchasing furniture and rebuilding the insides. William is working to scrape together money for renovations. However, three months ago, the Tanzys ran out of funds because their contractor brought in an unlicensed electrician to reroute the house. Now, William is working to replenish his house funds, and must personally find an electrician who will draw up plans to be approved by the city. The renovation cannot go forward until the electricity is installed. There are piles of sheet rock stored in the Tanzy home waiting to be installed. Although frustrated, William says that his grandmother keeps the family motivated, encouraging them to go forward.

Mr. Tanzy's crutches in remain in the trailer bedroom. The family rode the storm out as Grandpa had a broken leg at the time.

Joya explains the Center's flyer to the Tanzy family.

The rebuilt portion of the Tanzy's roof.

William is no older than 22 years old, yet he is working, caring for his grandparents and demonstrably mastering the ins and outs of rebuilding a home. This is of obvious necessity to ensure that the Tanzy home is completed without further contractor abuse. As William led me on a tour of the inside of the home, it was impossible to ignore the master bedroom which measured at least 225 square feet, as well as the new furniture wrapped in plastic, just waiting to be broken in. Meanwhile, the Tanzys must remain in their cramped trailer which is decorated with proudly displayed family photos.

Sofas waiting for the house to be completed.

Building materials and future plans.

Sheet rock stored until an electrician can be found.

Finally, we provided the Tanzys with fliers regarding the Center for Justice’s assistance meeting for housing grants. By directing the family to the Center, it may be possible for them to appeal the denial of their grant application, or to partake in the Phase II allocation.
* Names changed to protect identity of interviewees.

Contributed by Mike

OMG! We totally met Angela Davis over breakfast yesterday! She was just talking with the woman who cooks breakfast here at the place we’re staying – I look up from my grits and there’s Angela freaking Davis smiling down at me. I smile back and wave my hand, forgetting that it’s holding a fork stuck into a Cajun Sausage.

Also yesterday, the head of Orleans Parish’s public defenders unit was jailed on contempt charges, when no one from his office showed up in a juvenile courtroom. Apparently, the lawyer who was supposed to be there had to juggle four courts simultaneously. That didn’t seem to matter to the judge, who left the courthouse, drove over to the defenders’ offices, sent a sheriff’s deputy inside to find the chief defender, and after bringing the fellow back to court, sentenced him to 36 days in jail. Several hours in lockup later, a higher court stayed the order…

Today we met for the second time with the Orleans Parish Courthouse’s evidence clerk. It’s rough, man. The evidence documentation system has never been digitalized, so when Hurricane Katrina came along and destroyed much of the location indicators, that was pretty much it. This city’s judicial system needs a massive infusion of funds and expertise to sift through the literally hundreds of boxes of unmarked and corroded evidence, not just for post-conviction exoneration cases, but also those cases where people are being held awaiting trial while the evidence of the crimes for which they are charged has not been found. But that’s a whole other issue.

This is an emotionally draining business. Perhaps the city will take meaningful steps to preserve evidence from new cases before the next big storm hits. Perhaps. But baring a lucky break in the next few days, for the five imprisoned men we are down here representing, for whom DNA testing can prove with a scientific certainty their claims of actual innocence, it will be a long time before justice is accomplished.

At the end of the same street we spoke to an elderly woman who was not in need of as much assistance as her neighbor. The flood waters missed her house, but she lost her roof and suffered other wind damage in the hurricane. Although she spoke with a distant look on her face as she told us how she watched her Christmas decorations and other personal belongings away in the wind, she was not suffering as much as some of her neighbors. Whole houses on her street were lifted off their foundation and blown away. She was very and humble as she expressed how grateful she was that she received help from her insurance company after much persistence from her and her husband. (There is an article on her insurance company, State Farm, and the aid they are providing in the NY Times.

Her and her neighbor retold some stories with tears and some with laughter. He told us about coffins from a nearby cemetery which were lifted by the water surge and left corpses strewn around the neighborhood. Then with a smile he told us about a neighborhood dog who was tied up inside of his owner’s home during the storm and both he and the house were blown away during the hurricane. The dog was found alive and well a few miles down the road near a fish-net manufacturing plant. Apparently green dye from the plant covered the dog and dyed him green. Some members on our team were not so sure this qualifies as a funny story, but seeing the light in their eyes and smiles on their faces as they told this story was definitely something to remember. The dog has been featured in a book and dvd about the hurricane, which our interviewees were quite proud of. It is not something that can be easily expressed, but it was somewhat relieving to see that they as a community found a way to laugh at small things.

Contibuted by Alisha and Lena, photographed below talking with Biloxi resident.

Erin and Joya in front of house and flag in Biloxi.

Damaged house in Biloxi.

Site of former house in Biloxi.

Houses under reconstruction in Biloxi, residents living in FEMA trailers out front.

Damaged house in Biloxi.