http://www.jsonline.com/news/metro/jan03/113589.asp
Gun initiative's results stir racial debate
Analysis shows CEASEFIRE hits African-Americans harder than whites
By GINA BARTON
[email protected]
Last Updated: Jan. 25, 2003
While searching Carmella Colin's apartment during a drug investigation, Milwaukee Police discovered a handgun loaded with hollow-point bullets. Colin had five felony convictions, and once shot a man three times.
CEASEFIRE
In another case, police saw Milton Jones flash a handgun outside a nightclub and drive off. They pulled him over and found the gun in the front seat. He had four felony convictions; none involved firing a weapon.
Both were breaking the law, since it is illegal for a felon to have a gun.
The penalty for Colin: a $500 fine.
For Jones: nearly 20 years in prison.
Both Colin and Jones were prosecuted as a result of CEASEFIRE, a joint state and federal law enforcement initiative to reduce gun violence that began in Milwaukee County in January 2000.
So why the difference?
Colin, 60, was prosecuted in state court, where the maximum sentence for her crime is two years. Jones, 31 was prosecuted in federal court, where the same crime - with a record like theirs - carries a minimum of 15 years in prison.
Further, a Journal Sentinel analysis of CEASEFIRE records from the start of the program through the end of 2002 indicates that a disproportionate number of blacks are prosecuted. The race gap is even wider among those sent to federal court.
Colin is white; Jones is black.
Of the 828 CEASEFIRE defendants whose primary charge was "felon in possession of a firearm," 702 - or 85% - were black. Just 73, or 9%, were white.
Of the 130 people sent to federal court, 118, or 91%, were black. Just eight - or 6% - were white.
(In several cases, the same person was prosecuted more than once for separate offenses.)
No one tracks the number of felons living in Milwaukee County, much less the racial breakdown. But the state Department of Corrections maintains a database of felons on probation and parole. At the end of last year, there were 10,606 in the county - 67% black, 30% white. Bill Clausius, a department spokesman, said the racial breakdown remains fairly constant.
CEASEFIRE "manifests the most insidious flaws of the criminal justice system for two centuries," said federal public defender Dean Strang. "It says, 'We're afraid of guns, we're afraid of black men, and we're really afraid of black men with guns.' "
Strang said part of the problem is that prosecutors want to send the most likely candidates for long sentences - people with repeat convictions involving drugs or violence - to federal court. Those people are more often black than white.
John Chisholm, the Milwaukee County assistant district attorney who coordinates CEASEFIRE, said the prosecution decisions are based on criminal histories and the offense's circumstances, not race.
"Clearly these individuals have had chances," he said. "How can you say you're being unfairly targeted because of your race? You're being fairly targeted for being a habitual offender and carrying a gun."
CEASEFIRE's founders knew race would become an issue, Chisholm said. That's one reason why they instituted it at the county level, rather than just the city.
"Yes, there are more African-Americans (being prosecuted) than whites," Chisholm said. "That's a harsh reality. They're living in these geographical areas where gunfire is a nightly occurrence. As a result, you're going to get a higher proportion of minorities."
Milwaukee County Sheriff David Clarke, formerly a CEASEFIRE coordinator with the Milwaukee Police Department, said he thinks focusing on those areas makes sense, regardless of any racial considerations.
"Ozaukee County? Washington County? Those communities are ravaged by violent crime? I don't think so," Clarke said. "Why are we doing it? To show we're not targeting a certain population? We're not targeting a population anyway. We're targeting neighborhoods.
"The majority of people arrested for violent crimes, they're black males. Why should we kid ourselves? A large percentage of people committing crimes are African-American males, and they're ravaging the lives of other black individuals."
Nevertheless, U.S. Attorney Steven M. Biskupic and criminal chief Michelle Jacobs have been working to expand federal gun prosecutions throughout the Eastern District of Wisconsin, whose 28 counties are largely rural and white.
"Our hope is that the race becomes irrelevant," Biskupic said. "Our intention is not to let violent felons in Milwaukee's inner city off easy. We want to make sure harsh penalties are applied to violent felons throughout the Eastern District."
Targeting worst of worst
CEASEFIRE was originally set up with a simple premise: Decrease gun violence and gun homicides by taking guns off the streets. It was funded in part by a $300,000 grant from the U.S. Department of Justice.
The program has two parts. An education component uses billboards, bus signs, radio spots and other advertisements to remind felons that it's illegal to have a gun, even if they don't fire it. A prosecution element aims to get more gun cases into federal court, where penalties are more severe.
"In state court, the bad guy is back out on the street in no time flat," said Daniel Jones, who runs the Milwaukee office of the U.S. Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms.
Currently, the maximum state court sentence for being a felon in possession of a firearm is two years in prison, with three years of supervision upon release. (In February, truth-in-sentencing laws will increase that to five years, with another five on supervision.) In federal court, the same crime carries a maximum term of life in prison, depending on the defendant's record.
Race isn't the deciding factor, but prosecutors do have discretion, Chisholm said. Colin, for example, hadn't been in trouble with the law in 25 years, while Milton Jones' criminal history was much more recent.
"I sincerely believe these investigations have nothing to do with race," Chisholm said. "It has to do with neighborhood. In neighborhoods where there are high levels of crime and violence, of course that's where our resources are going to be concentrated."
Bridgette Baldwin, who teaches criminal justice at Northeastern University in Boston and is a native of Milwaukee, said that's a rationalization for a flawed effort.
"If monitoring felons with guns is important, it should be important across the board, not just in some areas," she said.
In some ways, she continued, blacks "can be blamed for their actions, but that doesn't mean society should just give up and target black males."
Law enforcement, she said, should move beyond the inner city.
"I would suggest skinheads are equally violent, and they're usually white and rural dwellers," she said. "We need to be proportionate."
Other cases illustrative
Colin and Milton Jones represent some of the most extreme differences in sentencing found in the Journal Sentinel review. But other cases also were telling.
In 2000, Daniel Billings, a 30-year-old black man, was asleep when his girlfriend let police into their apartment. The officers, who had come to investigate an anonymous drug complaint, found five guns under Billings' bed. A sixth gun - a 9mm Jennings with a round in the chamber - was found on the bed near Billings' young son, who also was asleep. Billings had a single previous felony conviction for possession of a sawed-off shotgun. Under CEASEFIRE, he was prosecuted in federal court and sentenced to more than five years in prison.
In 2001, police went to the Milwaukee home of Daniel Woydal, 49 and white, to investigate a tip that he was selling guns illegally at a rummage sale. Woydal had 31 rifles and shotguns, and tried to sell one to an undercover police officer. Woydal's previous convictions were for possession of cocaine and possession of marijuana, which were upgraded to felonies because of multiple offenses. Under CEASEFIRE, he was prosecuted in state court and placed on three years' probation.
"Sometimes, even if someone qualifies for a federal rocket ride, it just doesn't seem right, so we keep it (in state court)," Chisholm said, speaking generally - not about a particular case.
The missing ingredient
Racial disparities aren't the only problems with CEASEFIRE. Even those most dedicated to the program have begun to question its effectiveness.
CEASEFIRE was originally modeled after a program in Richmond, Va. The number of gun homicides there dropped from 94 in 1998 to 72 during each of the following three years.
The changes in Milwaukee County have been less dramatic. In 1999, before CEASEFIRE's implementation, there were 106 gun homicides. That dropped to 96 in 2000, and 93 in 2001. (Last year's statistics are not available yet.)
"Would there have been more if we weren't aggressively pursuing this?" Chisholm asked. "I don't know. . . . We expected to be seeing the results by this point."
The missing ingredient is aggressive, street-level enforcement, officials say. Most of CEASEFIRE's gun prosecutions start with traffic stops. Some begin with citizen complaints. Few are the result of proactive gun investigations.
Chisholm believes illegal firearms should be treated more like illegal drugs. There are more than 100 officers in area state, local and federal agencies whose primary responsibility is arresting drug dealers and getting their products off the streets, he said.
Even Milwaukee Police Chief Arthur Jones' controversial violent crime task force, which has put hundreds of officers on overtime into high-crime areas, isn't the answer, Chisholm and Clarke said. They believe the police effort needs to be focused on guns, not quality of life offenses.
Arthur Jones did not return phone calls.
"It's kind of everybody's job and nobody's job," Clarke said of firearms enforcement. "It's not conveyed that it's the primary responsibility of a certain unit."
Connecting the dots
Clarke said he plans to assign a group of deputies to work specifically on firearms investigations. Right now, however, the only such group in the county is a joint Milwaukee Police Department and federal Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms effort, which formed in February 2002 with six members.
The task force tracks the sources of the guns and investigates the people who are putting them on the streets. Through the end of 2002, the group seized more than 100 firearms, including 16 machine guns and six destructive devices such as pipe bombs and grenades. The ATF's Daniel Jones said he was happy with those numbers, but knows they're only a start.
Chisholm believes a larger group, specializing in gun investigations and working with CEASEFIRE prosecutors, is the only way to solve Milwaukee's gun violence problem.
Barring that, authorities need to do more follow-up investigation of the gun cases they already have. For example, Milwaukee police policy dictates that anyone arrested with a gun must be fingerprinted and interviewed.
"I don't know what happens to that information, and that's a problem," Chisholm said. "We should talk to them to determine the origin of the gun, not just to solve the crime. Very few people are connecting the dots, and the dots are there to be connected."
A version of this story appeared in the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel on Jan. 26, 2003.
Gun initiative's results stir racial debate
Analysis shows CEASEFIRE hits African-Americans harder than whites
By GINA BARTON
[email protected]
Last Updated: Jan. 25, 2003
While searching Carmella Colin's apartment during a drug investigation, Milwaukee Police discovered a handgun loaded with hollow-point bullets. Colin had five felony convictions, and once shot a man three times.
CEASEFIRE
In another case, police saw Milton Jones flash a handgun outside a nightclub and drive off. They pulled him over and found the gun in the front seat. He had four felony convictions; none involved firing a weapon.
Both were breaking the law, since it is illegal for a felon to have a gun.
The penalty for Colin: a $500 fine.
For Jones: nearly 20 years in prison.
Both Colin and Jones were prosecuted as a result of CEASEFIRE, a joint state and federal law enforcement initiative to reduce gun violence that began in Milwaukee County in January 2000.
So why the difference?
Colin, 60, was prosecuted in state court, where the maximum sentence for her crime is two years. Jones, 31 was prosecuted in federal court, where the same crime - with a record like theirs - carries a minimum of 15 years in prison.
Further, a Journal Sentinel analysis of CEASEFIRE records from the start of the program through the end of 2002 indicates that a disproportionate number of blacks are prosecuted. The race gap is even wider among those sent to federal court.
Colin is white; Jones is black.
Of the 828 CEASEFIRE defendants whose primary charge was "felon in possession of a firearm," 702 - or 85% - were black. Just 73, or 9%, were white.
Of the 130 people sent to federal court, 118, or 91%, were black. Just eight - or 6% - were white.
(In several cases, the same person was prosecuted more than once for separate offenses.)
No one tracks the number of felons living in Milwaukee County, much less the racial breakdown. But the state Department of Corrections maintains a database of felons on probation and parole. At the end of last year, there were 10,606 in the county - 67% black, 30% white. Bill Clausius, a department spokesman, said the racial breakdown remains fairly constant.
CEASEFIRE "manifests the most insidious flaws of the criminal justice system for two centuries," said federal public defender Dean Strang. "It says, 'We're afraid of guns, we're afraid of black men, and we're really afraid of black men with guns.' "
Strang said part of the problem is that prosecutors want to send the most likely candidates for long sentences - people with repeat convictions involving drugs or violence - to federal court. Those people are more often black than white.
John Chisholm, the Milwaukee County assistant district attorney who coordinates CEASEFIRE, said the prosecution decisions are based on criminal histories and the offense's circumstances, not race.
"Clearly these individuals have had chances," he said. "How can you say you're being unfairly targeted because of your race? You're being fairly targeted for being a habitual offender and carrying a gun."
CEASEFIRE's founders knew race would become an issue, Chisholm said. That's one reason why they instituted it at the county level, rather than just the city.
"Yes, there are more African-Americans (being prosecuted) than whites," Chisholm said. "That's a harsh reality. They're living in these geographical areas where gunfire is a nightly occurrence. As a result, you're going to get a higher proportion of minorities."
Milwaukee County Sheriff David Clarke, formerly a CEASEFIRE coordinator with the Milwaukee Police Department, said he thinks focusing on those areas makes sense, regardless of any racial considerations.
"Ozaukee County? Washington County? Those communities are ravaged by violent crime? I don't think so," Clarke said. "Why are we doing it? To show we're not targeting a certain population? We're not targeting a population anyway. We're targeting neighborhoods.
"The majority of people arrested for violent crimes, they're black males. Why should we kid ourselves? A large percentage of people committing crimes are African-American males, and they're ravaging the lives of other black individuals."
Nevertheless, U.S. Attorney Steven M. Biskupic and criminal chief Michelle Jacobs have been working to expand federal gun prosecutions throughout the Eastern District of Wisconsin, whose 28 counties are largely rural and white.
"Our hope is that the race becomes irrelevant," Biskupic said. "Our intention is not to let violent felons in Milwaukee's inner city off easy. We want to make sure harsh penalties are applied to violent felons throughout the Eastern District."
Targeting worst of worst
CEASEFIRE was originally set up with a simple premise: Decrease gun violence and gun homicides by taking guns off the streets. It was funded in part by a $300,000 grant from the U.S. Department of Justice.
The program has two parts. An education component uses billboards, bus signs, radio spots and other advertisements to remind felons that it's illegal to have a gun, even if they don't fire it. A prosecution element aims to get more gun cases into federal court, where penalties are more severe.
"In state court, the bad guy is back out on the street in no time flat," said Daniel Jones, who runs the Milwaukee office of the U.S. Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms.
Currently, the maximum state court sentence for being a felon in possession of a firearm is two years in prison, with three years of supervision upon release. (In February, truth-in-sentencing laws will increase that to five years, with another five on supervision.) In federal court, the same crime carries a maximum term of life in prison, depending on the defendant's record.
Race isn't the deciding factor, but prosecutors do have discretion, Chisholm said. Colin, for example, hadn't been in trouble with the law in 25 years, while Milton Jones' criminal history was much more recent.
"I sincerely believe these investigations have nothing to do with race," Chisholm said. "It has to do with neighborhood. In neighborhoods where there are high levels of crime and violence, of course that's where our resources are going to be concentrated."
Bridgette Baldwin, who teaches criminal justice at Northeastern University in Boston and is a native of Milwaukee, said that's a rationalization for a flawed effort.
"If monitoring felons with guns is important, it should be important across the board, not just in some areas," she said.
In some ways, she continued, blacks "can be blamed for their actions, but that doesn't mean society should just give up and target black males."
Law enforcement, she said, should move beyond the inner city.
"I would suggest skinheads are equally violent, and they're usually white and rural dwellers," she said. "We need to be proportionate."
Other cases illustrative
Colin and Milton Jones represent some of the most extreme differences in sentencing found in the Journal Sentinel review. But other cases also were telling.
In 2000, Daniel Billings, a 30-year-old black man, was asleep when his girlfriend let police into their apartment. The officers, who had come to investigate an anonymous drug complaint, found five guns under Billings' bed. A sixth gun - a 9mm Jennings with a round in the chamber - was found on the bed near Billings' young son, who also was asleep. Billings had a single previous felony conviction for possession of a sawed-off shotgun. Under CEASEFIRE, he was prosecuted in federal court and sentenced to more than five years in prison.
In 2001, police went to the Milwaukee home of Daniel Woydal, 49 and white, to investigate a tip that he was selling guns illegally at a rummage sale. Woydal had 31 rifles and shotguns, and tried to sell one to an undercover police officer. Woydal's previous convictions were for possession of cocaine and possession of marijuana, which were upgraded to felonies because of multiple offenses. Under CEASEFIRE, he was prosecuted in state court and placed on three years' probation.
"Sometimes, even if someone qualifies for a federal rocket ride, it just doesn't seem right, so we keep it (in state court)," Chisholm said, speaking generally - not about a particular case.
The missing ingredient
Racial disparities aren't the only problems with CEASEFIRE. Even those most dedicated to the program have begun to question its effectiveness.
CEASEFIRE was originally modeled after a program in Richmond, Va. The number of gun homicides there dropped from 94 in 1998 to 72 during each of the following three years.
The changes in Milwaukee County have been less dramatic. In 1999, before CEASEFIRE's implementation, there were 106 gun homicides. That dropped to 96 in 2000, and 93 in 2001. (Last year's statistics are not available yet.)
"Would there have been more if we weren't aggressively pursuing this?" Chisholm asked. "I don't know. . . . We expected to be seeing the results by this point."
The missing ingredient is aggressive, street-level enforcement, officials say. Most of CEASEFIRE's gun prosecutions start with traffic stops. Some begin with citizen complaints. Few are the result of proactive gun investigations.
Chisholm believes illegal firearms should be treated more like illegal drugs. There are more than 100 officers in area state, local and federal agencies whose primary responsibility is arresting drug dealers and getting their products off the streets, he said.
Even Milwaukee Police Chief Arthur Jones' controversial violent crime task force, which has put hundreds of officers on overtime into high-crime areas, isn't the answer, Chisholm and Clarke said. They believe the police effort needs to be focused on guns, not quality of life offenses.
Arthur Jones did not return phone calls.
"It's kind of everybody's job and nobody's job," Clarke said of firearms enforcement. "It's not conveyed that it's the primary responsibility of a certain unit."
Connecting the dots
Clarke said he plans to assign a group of deputies to work specifically on firearms investigations. Right now, however, the only such group in the county is a joint Milwaukee Police Department and federal Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms effort, which formed in February 2002 with six members.
The task force tracks the sources of the guns and investigates the people who are putting them on the streets. Through the end of 2002, the group seized more than 100 firearms, including 16 machine guns and six destructive devices such as pipe bombs and grenades. The ATF's Daniel Jones said he was happy with those numbers, but knows they're only a start.
Chisholm believes a larger group, specializing in gun investigations and working with CEASEFIRE prosecutors, is the only way to solve Milwaukee's gun violence problem.
Barring that, authorities need to do more follow-up investigation of the gun cases they already have. For example, Milwaukee police policy dictates that anyone arrested with a gun must be fingerprinted and interviewed.
"I don't know what happens to that information, and that's a problem," Chisholm said. "We should talk to them to determine the origin of the gun, not just to solve the crime. Very few people are connecting the dots, and the dots are there to be connected."
A version of this story appeared in the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel on Jan. 26, 2003.
