On Sunday, May 10, the Atlanta Journal Constitution published an article by Bill Torpy that raises troubling questions about what is going on in Atlanta’s courtrooms. Like this April 10 story by Steve Visser, Torpy’s story focuses on an element of the justice system that receives less attention than policing but is arguably far more responsible for the presence of dangerous felons on Atlanta’s streets: the choices, both legal and administrative, made by Atlanta’s judges.
We invest judges with extraordinary power. We allow judicial discretion in all sorts of sentencing and administrative decisions. Legislators have tried to limit judges’ discretion in recent years by imposing minimum mandatory sentence guidelines and repeat offender laws. But Georgia’s sentencing guidelines still give judges far too much latitude to let criminals go free. Also, far too many judges have responded to this legislative oversight (aka, the will of the people) by simply ignoring the intent, and even the letter, of those laws.
Not long ago, I was sitting in a Tampa courtroom listening to a request to overturn a particularly egregious lapse in judicial discretion in the case of Richard Chotiner. Chotiner is a former nurse who used his status as a caregiver to sexually assault a developmentally disabled young man. He was convicted of the crime and sentenced to fifteen years behind bars. Then the judge let him go, to wait out his appeals as a free man. To say that this decision was unusual is an understatement; nonetheless, facing criticism, the judge dug in. Next, he allowed Chotiner to remove his ankle monitor on some trumped-up claim of needing to undergo physical therapy, and then refused to require Chotiner to put the monitor back on after the “therapy” was completed. It’s hard to see the judge’s decision to remove the ankle monitor as anything other than a petulant reaction to being criticized in the first place.
In other words, this judge decided that his ego was more important than the victim’s peace of mind, public safety, or justice itself. And when another judge was called upon to re-evaluate the first judge’s lack of judgment, Judge Number Two said that while he would not have let Chotiner go, he certainly was not going to second-guess the brillant legal mind of his esteemed colleague, etc. etc. etc.
Chotiner is still on the loose, though Judge Number Two actually did second-guess Judge Number One’s decision to remove his ankle monitor and ordered it put back on. I suppose we weren’t supposed to notice that logical inconsistency while swooning in abject gratitude that one of these Apollonian deities had deigned to throw a few scraps the victim’s way.
Now, thanks to Bill Torpy’s article, Atlantans can watch a similar Olympian battle of wills not unfold in the Fulton Superior Court. Expect other judges not to act to rein in the behavior of Judge Marvin Arrington, who once again completely forgot that he isn’t yet presiding over a fake television courtroom. Expect the chief justice to not speak out in the face of yet another miscarriage of justice, and to not look into the chain of events that put yet another attempted murderer back on Atlanta’s streets. They are, after all, judges. The rest of us should mind our place.
This time, Arrington released a violent criminal who shot a fellow Morehouse student three times with a handgun. He then treated the court to another episode of what goes on in his mind, saying:
[The attempted murderer] needs to have a curfew. He needs to be in a dorm where you can get some study time. Take organic chemistry and physics. Make him some A’s . . . All of them got cars. Don’t need no dern car. They need a MARTA card.”
Let me attempt to summarize. If you have repeatedly shot a person with a handgun, what you need to do is not go to jail, but study more and take public transportation. That should fix it.
Just like the judge who wouldn’t judge another judge in Tampa, Arrington did feign some harsh words for the defense. He actually cut the defense attorney off in mid-sentence (!), declaring:
“No more excuses. He doesn’t have any reason to give for not being successful.
“Where is the mama?
“Better put your arms around him and make sure he goes in the right direction. If he comes back here, I’m going to put him in jail. J-A-I-L.”
Then, after spelling out the word J-A-I-L in harsh tones for emphasis, Arrington let Joshua Brandon Norris go free.
OK, I’m not being completely fair to Marvin Arrington. As Torpy’s article explains, an inexperienced prosecutor, and thus the prosecutor’s boss, D.A. Paul Howard, agreed to the crazy plea deal in this case (Allowing a plea in a case of attempted murder means that the sentencing law needs to be changed. Or, conversely, enforced, with penalties accruing to judges who fail to follow the law). But regardless of the prosecutor’s actions, it is still Arrington’s courtroom.
Of course, there were reports of other crimes by Norris. Serious ones. Like, gun stuff. Like grinding a bar glass into a girlfriend’s face. Such things are apparently meaningless, however, in the halls of the bizarro-world of the Fulton Superior Court, where shooting somebody gets you sent to study hall, and aiming a gun at two women gets you — well, nothing. Here is Torpy’s article. I’ve quoted from it extensively because it is important — please go to the website and read the whole thing:
Tale of two students with a twist
Shooting victim won’t be Morehouse Man, but suspect to earn degree.
By Bill Torpy
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Joshua Brandon Norris is expected to graduate soon and become a Morehouse Man, with all its prestige. At 22, he’s had a good run during his time at Morehouse College. He drove a Hummer, co-owned a fashion store at Perimeter Mall and owns a stylish $450,000 townhouse.
He also shot another student.
Quite a lifestyle for someone whose dad is a cop in Nashville (see below). That must be some clothing store.
Across the country, Frank Rashad Johnson, the victim, attends Sacramento City College and lives with his mother, trying to save money. He, too, wanted to be a Morehouse Man.
“My great-uncle was a classmate of Martin Luther King’s,” Johnson said. “It has a long history of exemplary students and good men. It was my dream school.”
But all that fell apart when he was shot three times outside a school-related Halloween party near Atlantic Station in 2007. Police reports say Norris was kicked out of a nightclub, had words with Johnson after bumping into him outside, then shot the fellow Morehouse student during a struggle in the street.
Pause on this for a moment. One shot, two shots, three shots, six shots in all. In a public place.
Completing a Morehouse degree is vital to Norris. Fulton County Judge Marvin Arrington ordered him to do so after he pleaded no contest to a charge of aggravated assault with a deadly weapon. The deal calls for six years of probation and comes with first-offender status —- meaning Norris’ record will be wiped clean if he stays out of trouble.
“You’re getting the break of your life,” Arrington said during the Jan. 27 hearing.
Arrington was accepting a plea offered by the prosecution and the defense. But he could have done any one of a number of things. Instead, he went off on his routine about staying in school, as if the situation were somehow not real, a pantomine, or an after-school special. It’s crazy, how the courts have been hijacked by this type of foolishness.
The arrangement constitutes a bizarre twist of fate for Johnson.
“I sit at home, still recovering from my wound, painfully aware my Morehouse dreams have become a nightmare,” Johnson wrote to Fulton District Attorney Paul Howard after hearing about the deal. “My victimizer (and almost murderer) received a closeted, secretive, back-door slap on the wrist and is now back at Morehouse, moving forward with his educational aspirations without having paid any price for his crime.”
This is the person who is not at Morehouse. The president of Morehouse chose an attempted murderer over this young man, the victim of his crime. Nice message to send, President Franklin.
[District Attorney Paul] Howard recently investigated how the case was handled after receiving questions from The Atlanta Journal-Constitution. “I am uncomfortable with the quality of the prosecutorial services provided … in this matter,” Howard wrote the family. Reid Thompson, the prosecutor who cut the deal, resigned.
Howard surely must have approved the plea deal. And so, this must be routine. If the public cannot count on its prosecutors to demand justice, then they have no protection against violent criminals.
The case is an example of how a relatively new prosecutor got caught up in Arrington’s crusade to save young black men. Of an overworked department dealing with a hard-charging defense attorney. Of a victim not getting his just due in court. And, says Johnson’s family, of a young man once again escaping serious criminal charges.
I’d like to know more about how Arrington’s crusade to save young black men ended up with someone who tried to kill a young black man receiving a get-out-of-jail-free card for a serious, violent felony, while the actually endangered young black man who didn’t try to kill anybody got the shaft.
And nearly killed. But it gets worse.
The deal came after Thompson, a former Fulton police lieutenant who became an attorney in 2005, heard Arrington’s up-by-your bootstraps message in court weeks earlier, according to a transcript of the hearing. Last year, Arrington removed whites from his courtroom to lecture black defendants on proper behavior.
“We’ve got this young man who’s coming back to Morehouse now, he’s close to graduation,” Thompson told Arrington. “Sending him to state prison for two years, I don’t think that would be in the state’s best interest. Hopefully, this will be the lesson he needs.”
This is the prosecutor speaking. That’s insane. He resigned? He should return his salary. But I imagine there will be a reward system in place for him in academia somewhere. And why, precisely, was the choice between two years in prison or no time at all? This was attempted murder, firing a weapon in a public place. The Code of Georgia does not allow for “attainment of a college degree” as punishment for this crime:
Georgia Code, 16-5-21
(a) A person commits the offense of aggravated assault when he or she assaults:
(1) With intent to murder, to rape, or to rob;
(2) With a deadly weapon or with any object, device, or instrument which, when used offensively against a person, is likely to or actually does result in serious bodily injury; or
(3) A person or persons without legal justification by discharging a firearm from within a motor vehicle toward a person or persons.
(b) Except as provided in subsections (c) through (i) of this Code section, [not applicable] a person convicted of the offense of aggravated assault shall be punished by imprisonment for not less than one nor more than 20 years.
Can anyone explain to me how it is that Judge Arrington, and D.A. Paul Howard, agreed to quietly circumvent this law? Why aren’t they resigning? It really is time for new blood at the D.A.’s office.
[The victim, Frank Rashad] Johnson complains his voice remained silent during the hearing. Actually, not only was his voice absent, but a version opposite of what police reports said happened that night was presented. In the hearing, [Prosecutor] Thompson said [victim] Johnson was kicked out of the nightclub before a fight started outside. And the defense attorney picked up from there, telling the judge Johnson and his friends surrounded his client’s Hummer and threatened him.
But several police reports in the court file say it was Norris who was kicked out of the party, one that Johnson never entered. And the reports say Norris returned to his vehicle after arguing with Johnson, then drove back, slammed on his brakes and got out with a gun.
The prosecutor makes the defense’s case, contradicting police reports.
Meanwhile, back in the victim’s world:
Johnson said prosecutors repeatedly told him they were up against a “prestigious” attorney. “I think they were intimidated by him,” he said. “It infuriates me I was never able to give anyone my sense of outrage or my story.”
Here are the details of the crime. I also doubt it’s the only such case in the Fulton courts. If you’re searching for the reason why innocent people keep getting killed in Atlanta, here it is:
According to police reports, witnesses said the events of Oct. 31, 2007, unfolded this way:
Norris and his girlfriend were escorted out of a Halloween party at LITKitchen. Norris bumped into Johnson, who was waiting outside. The two exchanged words and Norris walked to his Hummer, drove back and screeched to a halt —- a point nearly every witness mentioned.
Witnesses said Norris jumped out and pushed the gun at Johnson’s face. Johnson struggled with Norris as he fired at least six shots. Three bullets hit Johnson in the leg. Norris fled.
Norris turned himself in a week later after conferring with a lawyer and was released on bond.
Norris’ identity was known. Why did it take a week to get him? Was he hiding? Was his father, a Nashville cop, involved in hiding him? And since he was on the run for a week, why the hell did a judge let him free on bond, instead of holding him to make sure he didn’t run again?
Who, precisely, let Norris bond out? To do this:
Eight months passed, and then last summer, Fulton prosecutors moved to revoke Norris’ bond after learning he was accused of smashing a glass in his ex-girlfriend’s face at a Nashville bar. She received severe cuts in her forehead requiring eight inches of stitches, police reports said.
The victim’s aunt, Kelly Carr, told police “when she went to the ER her niece told her Brandon had done this to me.” The aunt also said, “the victim is scared of the suspect because he is out on bond for attempted homicide” and Norris’ stepfather, Daniel Turner, a Nashville cop, “pulled her from the room and said his son, wanted to see/speak with [the victim].”
An officer reported this to internal affairs, which investigated and cleared Turner. The victim was “completely uncooperative,” Nashville police reported.
The victim was scared out of her mind. And why not? It’s not as if anybody was protecting her. Only people like Norris get protection from this system. Victims learn to shut up.
During Norris’ bond revocation hearing in Fulton last August, the woman testified she was cut when a fight broke out in the Nashville bar while she walked toward Norris’ table. He was cut in the hand in the same fight, according to testimony. Prosecutors later dropped the matter.
Which prosecutor dropped the matter? What is happening in Paul Howard’s office? The scariest part is that this level of dysfunction cannot be unique.
How many Joshua Brandon Norrises are walking Atlanta’s streets? Why isn’t Paul Howard screaming from the rooftops for more resources, if things have gotten so bad that he does not ever try to put attempted murderers away? Why isn’t the Mayor helping him? Why isn’t the Chief of Police? Why aren’t they standing in the city council, and the county commission, and the state legislature, every single day, pleading for the resources to keep killers off the streets?
But in the end, the decision gets made by the sitting judge: Marvin Arrington. And then his peers do what judges do when other judges fail to enforce the law: they do nothing.
Of course, there’s more:
In another case in Fulton court files, Clark Atlanta University students Britteny Turman and Grace Dixon say Norris pulled a gun on them during a traffic dispute near Morehouse in November 2005. The women, in recent interviews, said Norris screamed profanities and followed them in their car for several blocks.
“He was laughing like it was funny when [he waved his gun and] we both ducked,” Turman said.
“I don’t understand why he didn’t get kicked out of Morehouse,” Dixon said. “He shouldn’t have been there to do this to somebody else.”
The two say they heard no follow-up from Fulton solicitors. Morehouse officials declined to answer questions about Norris.
In fairness, Marvin Arrington never said anything about saving young women.
Asked about Norris’ plea deal in the shooting, Arrington said he has “close to 100 cases a week” and doesn’t remember it. But he recalled the Nashville assault case when Norris came before him during the plea hearing.
“This is the young man who was whipping a young lady?” the judge asked.
Then he let him go. Told ’em to study hard.
Johnson [the shooting victim] last month got a letter from Morehouse President Robert M. Franklin after the Johnson family repeatedly contacted the college after the plea deal.
Franklin suggested Johnson return. “Your matriculation would be a wonderful triumph over adversity,” he wrote.
Johnson aspired to becoming a Morehouse Man, as have three generations of relatives. But he has soured on that.
“Honestly, I don’t want to do that; I don’t feel safe there,” he said. “The situation is all backward to me.”
Is anything stopping Paul Howard from prosecuting Norris for his armed attack on Britteny Turman and Grace Dixon?
When the judge in Tampa let Richard Chotiner walk away from a sexual assault conviction, television host Bill O’Reilly stepped in to protest Chotiner’s release. I hope that O’Reilly would be similarly interested in the release of Joshua Brandon Norris, and the grotesquely raw deal delivered to his victims, Britteny Turman, Grace Dixon, and Frank Rashad Johnson. They have a right to justice.