More Prisoner Abuses In NOLA

Human Rights Watch reports that Six Weeks after Hurricane, Arrests for Minor Offenses Turn into Indefinite Jail Time.

Six weeks later, they are still waiting to be brought before a judge. Even if found guilty, they would only have spent 10 days at most in jail. Many would have been released on bond and some would never have been prosecuted. Instead, they remain locked up in jails scattered throughout the state, unable to rejoin their families, many of whom are also struggling to rebuild their lives in the wake of the hurricane.

“People entitled to freedom remain behind bars because public officials are putting up obstacles instead of restoring justice after the hurricane,” said Corinne Carey, a lawyer and researcher for Human Rights Watch. “Keeping people locked up six weeks after the storm for petty offenses they may not have even committed makes a mockery of due process.”

Local parish prisons—the equivalent of a county jail—in six Louisiana parishes hit hardest by the hurricane held more than 8,500 people when the storm hit. These detainees were evacuated to 43 state and local facilities across the state. Several hundred were sent to Florida as well. Some had been convicted of felonies and were under the jurisdiction of the state Department of Public Safety and Corrections. But most were being held for minor municipal offenses or misdemeanors such as public intoxication, disorderly conduct, sleeping in a public place, traffic violations, or even reading tarot cards without a license. . . .

Prosecutors and department of corrections officials have not simply dragged their feet, however. They have also actively sought to impede the release of those who should be free. In habeas and civil rights proceedings brought on behalf of some 200 prisoners, the state’s attorney general, the district attorney, and the department of corrections all argued that the court should delay releasing those who served their time until they could demonstrate that they had somewhere to go when they were released. There is no requirement under Louisiana law, however, that those released after serving their sentence inform authorities of where they intend to go.

While there was plenty of coverage of the NOLA police beating of retired school teacher Robert Davis, much less discussed has been "Camp Amtrak," the makeshift prison where he was taken. Camp Amtrak is a place that sounds like our own Guantanimo, right here in the continental US.

In interviews both inside and outside of Camp Amtrak, people who had been through the process told harrowing accounts of police brutality and harsh conditions. Some of them, like Davis, had visible injuries. Many said police had attacked them or others in their cells with pepper spray. All recounted trying to sleep on the concrete floor of the bus parking lot with just one blanket – or in some cases no blanket – to protect them from the cold and the mosquitoes which swoop in on randomly alternating nights here. None was given a phone call or access to an attorney.

Many of the arrests that bring prisoners to Camp Amtrak are gratuitous, and there are reports of terrible violence against the prisoners.

"I was in my yard, and a young white guy came by the gate and I was talking to him and the police came and arrested both of us," he recounted. "He was outside breaking curfew; I was inside… behind the gate. The police broke my gate down with a pick-ax. They broke it completely off the fence."

Jack continued: "It makes me really angry, man. It made me realize that the law isn’t working the way it is supposed to."

Sandy Freelander, a relief volunteer from Wisconsin, was also one of the hundreds arrested. He said that he and two friends – one a New Orleanian widely known here for having helped rescue hundreds of people in the Seventh Ward during the flooding – were detained by police in a parking lot last Thursday. He said that they were on their knees with their hands behind their heads when a police officer attacked his friend.

One of the motivations for accumulating these prisoners at Camp Amtrak is to provide the police with slave labor for its clean ups of its facilities.

A visit to the courtroom yesterday confirmed their accounts. In a stark, second-floor room of the Greyhound station, police brought in about 20 inmates who had spent the night in the cages. When they entered the room, public defender Clyde Merritt briefly explained the options while the defendants strained to hear him. In most cases, he told them, they could plead guilty and they would be sentenced to about 40 hours of "community service." If they wished the maintain their innocence, he said, they would be sent to Hunts Correctional Facility where they could wait as long as 21 days to be processed, no matter how minor or unsupported their charges.

Many of the defendants were obviously confused. They swarmed him with questions, but he held them off, telling them that he could not give them individual advice. For that, he said, they would have to retain their own attorneys. . . .

"The situation down there is really bad," said Don Antenen, a prisoner support activist from Cincinnati, Ohio who has been monitoring Camp Amtrak and working to secure legal support for people whose rights have been violated. "It’s not isolated from the rest of the prison system in the United States," Antenen said, "but we’re seeing all of the worst elements of the United States prison system coming all to the forefront and being very concentrated in one location."

He continued: "The police are basically arresting people for curfew violations and public intoxication and just using it as a way to get free labor to clean up the prisons and court houses and the police stations. They’re just using it as a way to get people to do their dirty work for free."

These human rights violations demand IMMEDIATE attention. Where is the Department of Justice? Juana gets the last word on this one: "I SOMETIMES HAVE TO QUESTION THE RIGHTS OF THE GOVERNMENT THAT DIDNT COME HELP OUR CITIZENS."