Cleveland settles suit with former prison guard for
$900,000
CLEVELAND,
Ohio -- Cleveland has agreed to pay a former state prison guard $900,000 in a
settlement over a 2009 confrontation with vice cops in which the
officers came close to shooting one another outside a prison.
The
face-off occurred when plainclothes Cleveland vice officers inexplicably
approached a hole in a prison fence in Cleveland, where uniformed prison guards
were standing watch to make sure no one escaped or entered. The guards, not
knowing the interlopers were officers, ordered them off the prison grounds, but
the police pulled guns instead.
The
settlement came two weeks after a federal judge called the city's arguments to
throw out the lawsuit on its merits ridiculous.
"With
their motions, the defendants say they should be able to come on
state-controlled property at 1 a.m. and [be] permitted to beat a state
corrections officer when that officer told the defendants to stop approaching
an opening in the state prison fence," U.S. District Judge James Gwin
wrote in an order March 13.
The
city made the first payment toward the settlement last week. The agreement
closes a federal civil rights lawsuit that raised questions about Cleveland
police's accountability, procedure and use of nondeadly force. The city and the
four officers settled the case without admitting any wrongdoing.
The
suit accused vice officers of attacking and falsely arresting Martin Robinson
about 1 a.m. July 10, 2009, as he worked outside the Northeast Pre-Release
Center on East 30th Street in Cleveland. He and two other corrections officers
were guarding a prison fence, where a car had crashed into it the day before,
creating holes.
In
court documents, Robinson said he reached for his weapon after two cars pulled
up, and the occupants, dressed in dark clothing, approached the guards.
The
guards yelled to the people in the cars -- who turned out to be vice
cops from the city's Third District -- that they were on state property
and ordered them to stop. Before Robinson could draw his gun from its
holster, an officer pointed a gun at Robinson. In a matter of seconds, the
guard was on the ground, handcuffed.
The
city's lawyers said the officers' actions were justified because Robinson had
reached for his weapon, a .38-caliber handgun, putting the officers' lives in
jeopardy.
Robinson,
in his first interview, said he was doing his job, and the standoff has left
him with physical and emotional scars. He said he suffers from post-traumatic
stress disorder, and he cannot work.
"I'll
never be the same again," he said. "This will affect me the rest of
my life. There is no amount of money that will make everything OK. People will
look at the settlement and see some closure. But I have to deal with this every
day. The people who did this can still carry a gun and badge."
The
confrontation involved Lt. Jerome Barrow, whose behavior has been the focus of
nearly three dozen police investigations. In his career of more than 32 years,
Barrow has been praised as well as criticized as an aggressive officer who
refuses to shy away from a fight.
The
case with Robinson involved a little-known 2006 city policy that deals with how
off-duty or plain-clothes officers are to approach uniformed guards or
patrolmen, which is what happened when Barrow and three other officers came
upon Robinson and two guards.
The
policy calls for the officers to contact uniformed patrol officers in their own
departments before dealing with uniformed officers from other jurisdictions.
But only one of four of the vice cops who approached the guards recalled the
policy, according to court records.
The
policy is meant to prevent officers from shooting their colleagues through
miscommunication.
"There
could have been a bloodbath that day," said Robinson's attorney, Terry
Gilbert.
Barbara
Langhenry, the interim city law director, said in a statement that the city and
its officers disputed Robinson's account but added "the city was able to
reasonably resolve Mr. Robinson's claims. The city stands behind its decision
and believes it to be in the best interest of the city, its officers and its
citizens."
Documents
describe confrontation
Hundreds
of pages of documents, including experts' reports, depositions and police
statements, spell out a series of tense moments involving Robinson and the vice
officers. The records, published reports and interviews indicate the
confrontation unfolded like this:
About
3 a.m. July 9, 2010, the day before the confrontation, a woman plowed her car
into the prison fence. She said she had taken a sleeping pill and didn't
remember getting into the car or driving, according to the accident report.
The
accident and the work to remove the car from the scene created two holes in the
fence. To prevent escapes, officials posted guards at the fence. The
Pre-Release Center is part of the state prison system, and it is where female
prisoners go before they are released back into society.
Nearly
a day after the crash, about 12:45 a.m. July 10, Robinson and corrections
officer Jennifer Jones were together near the damaged fence, making sure no one
entered or left through the holes. A third guard, Brian Woods, was stationed
nearby. The three wore guard uniforms and hats.
At the
same time, Barrow and Detective Anthony Spencer drove near the prison in an
unmarked Ford Taurus. Trailing them as they made their way through the city
were detectives Erin O'Donnell and Michael Demchak, who were in another
unmarked Taurus.
Spencer,
according to court records, said he wanted to stop and talk to the officers
about a bar across the street from the prison that he suspected may have been
operating illegally. He and Barrow got out of the car and approached the
guards, with Spencer in the lead.
Barrow
testified in a deposition that he provided backup to Spencer because he didn't
know the situation.
"I
didn't know what I had," Barrow testified. "It could have been a drug
deal, could have been a lover's lane thing. I didn't know, but my suspicions
were raised."
Barrow
testified that Spencer said, "What's going on? Cleveland police. What's
going on?"
Jones
and Robinson, however, said they heard Barrow screaming obscenities, according
to their statements to authorities.
"I
told them that they were on state property, that this was a prison, that we
were corrections officers, and I showed them my ID from the state of
Ohio," Jones told a police investigator.
Asked
by the investigator whom she thought the people were, Jones said: "I had
no clue."
Robinson
moved backward and ordered them to stay back, according to his report to his
supervisors. He said they continued on, moving even faster toward him.
He put
his hand on his weapon and unsnapped its holster. He then heard Barrow identify
himself, according to Robinson's report: "These are badges, motherf-----.
We're with vice squad."
Barrow
stressed to investigators that he identified himself and the others by saying,
"Cleveland police." He showed the guards his badge, which was hanging
around his neck, according to court records.
"I
held it up [to] eye level and said 'Cleveland police, Lt. Barrow,' more than
once," the officer testified in his deposition.
He
said he drew his weapon after noticing Robinson reach for his gun.
"He
had that look in his eyes that he was going to use his pistol," Barrow
said in his deposition. He added that he focused solely on Robinson.
"I
said, 'Dude, don't draw that gun,' " Barrow said.
Moments
later, the vice officers took Robinson to the ground and began struggling with
him. The detectives said they had to take down Robinson to pry the gun away
from him. He was put on the ground twice, the second time while he was
handcuffed, according to court records.
Robinson
called the officers "attackers," who rushed him and beat him.
"I
felt something pop in my right shoulder," Robinson said. "My head
bounced off the ground several times."
In a
letter to Cleveland Safety Director Martin Flask days after the incident,
then-warden Frank Shewalter wrote that Robinson had no idea who the people were
who approached him.
"This
situation could have clearly turned deadly as there were several armed subjects
involved," Shewalter wrote. "I would also like to know how it is
possible for your vice squad team to not be able to see three fully uniformed
and armed officers as they approached. And if they did see them, why would they
react in such a way?"
Officers
had little choice, city claims
City
officials said the use of force was justified. They also noted Robinson's
behavior once he was handcuffed and placed in a police car. An audio recorder
captured Robinson accusing his supervisors of being involved in setting him up
with police officers. He also threatened Barrow in a rambling tirade.
"I
can't wait till I see you on the street, and that's a threat!" Robinson
said, according to court records. He later said, "I should have shot that
f------ lieutenant ass!"
Robinson
was charged with aggravated menacing, a charge that was later dropped.
The
city and its police expert, David Grossi, said the officers had little choice.
"Their
options were to either resort to overwhelming physical force or wait to see if
Mr. Martin Robinson would actually draw and shoot them," said Grossi, a
retired police lieutenant from upstate New York, in his report.
Barrow
was accused of violating department policy for the way he talked with a police
dispatcher, including this exchange: "[The guards] were outside on the
grass; that's why we were checking them out, and the one idiot tried to grab
his gun, saying he didn't know who we were."
Barrow
also was accused of failing to get Robinson medical treatment or to get him to
the jail fast enough. Spencer was accused of failing to control Robinson after
he was handcuffed. Chief Michael McGrath later dismissed the administrative
charges. Also, a city prosecutor reviewed the case and rejected criminal
charges.
Melvin
Tucker, an expert hired by Robinson, said the incident could have been avoided.
"It
was well established in the law enforcement profession in July 2009 that
officers off-duty or working plainclothes should not intervene in non-urgent
matters but, instead, should call for an on-duty uniformed officer to respond
while continuing to assess the situation to gather accurate information to
provide to the responding officer," wrote Tucker, a retired police chief
of Tallahassee, Fla.
The
city has said the officers simply were seeking information from the guards
about the nearby bar.
In the
summer of 2011, Robinson filed suit in Cuyahoga County Common Pleas Court, a
case that was later transferred to U.S. District Court in Cleveland. He alleged
his civil rights were violated, and he cited the officers' use of excessive
force. The case was expected to go to trial in late March, but the attorneys
reached a settlement.
In an
interview, Gilbert, Robinson's lawyer, scoffed at the officers' treatment of
Robinson, who had worked in corrections for about 10 years.
"They
treated him like he was some suspicious person on the street," Gilbert
said. "They viewed themselves as a superior authority that could approach
and encounter anyone for any reason, just because they're police. To have that
kind of attitude when approaching a state law enforcement officer is the height
of arrogance."
Robinson
is more blunt: "What they did to me was criminal."
Had enough?
Write to the Speaker of the House, U.S.
House of Representatives, Washington, DC 20515 and demand federal hearings into
the police problem in America. Demand
mandatory body cameras for cops, one strike rule on abuse, and a permanent DOJ office on Police Misconduct.