Everyone
knows two numbers about Thomas' death: He was the 15th African
American killed by Cincinnati Police in five years, and he had
14 warrants and capiases for his arrest.
Other numbers, however, have gotten little attention in
all of the investigations of his death, even though they tell
more about Thomas' relationship with the law than do the numbers
14 and 15.
· Nineteen is the number of times Thomas appeared in
court during three months of 2000: quite an attendance record
for a man people accuse of ducking the law.
· Sixteen is the number of days Thomas spent in jail
for his traffic violations. At one point, as court records
show, Thomas believed he had served his sentence and was starting
with a clean record.
· Two is the number of jobs Thomas lost for missing
work due to court appearances.
· Ten is the number of times police stopped Thomas'
car before deciding he should also be cited for having illegally
tinted windows.
· Eight is the number of times police had Thomas in
custody but, instead of arresting him, simply wrote more tickets.
· One is the number of addresses shown on all of the
tickets, raising the question of why police didn't go there
and arrest him. One is also the number of cars Thomas drove;
he got all of the tickets in the same 1978 Chevrolet. He was
anything but hard to find.
This is the short history of Thomas' driving problems. At
2:45 a.m. Feb. 29, 2000, two officers stopped him at 2538
Woodburn Ave., just a few blocks from his home. One officer
cited him for loud sound, and his partner wrote a ticket for
driving without a license. Six days later an officer cited
Thomas for driving without a license and not wearing a seat
belt. Six hours after that, a cop cited him for driving without
a license and disobeying a traffic device. Four days later
he was cited for driving without a license and not wearing
a seat belt. Less than five hours later he was again pulled
over and cited for driving without a license.
A week later an officer cited Thomas for driving without
a license and not wearing a seat belt. Four days after that
he was again pulled over, one door from his home, for driving
without a license and not wearing a seat belt. The next day
he received a ticket for the same offenses: driving without
a license and not wearing a seat belt.
Twenty-seven days later an officer issued Thomas a ticket
for driving without a license. Three days after that, he was
cited for driving without a license, not wearing a seat belt,
having a child in the car without a safety restraint and having
an illegally tinted window.
Thirteen days later, on May 4, Thomas was cited for the
last time, for driving without a license. In the course of
66 days, Cincinnati Police stopped Timothy Thomas 11 times,
writing tickets for 22 charges. Eleven of the tickets were
for the same offense, driving without a license.
Something is clearly wrong with such a system, according
to Officer Scotty Johnson. Officers who stopped Thomas after
he had already been repeatedly cited and had skipped court
should not have let him go.
"He should have been arrested and held in jail until all
of that was cleared up," Johnson says. After the third or
fourth citation, "a physical arrest should have been made,"
according to Johnson, who is president of the Sentinel Police
Association, an organization of black Cincinnati cops.
"In my 17 years of experience, if you keep re-citing a guy
six or seven times in a month for the same violation, there
should have been a physical arrest," he says. "Both parts
of the system fumbled here -- the police along with the Hamilton
County court system. The court dropped the ball on these along
the same lines. The court could have consolidated all these
citations and had it taken care of in one swoop."
Records at the Hamilton County Justice Center show Thomas'
first stay in jail was March 24-27, 2000, for driving without
a license and not wearing a seat belt. By that time, he had
racked up eight citations for driving without a license. Yet
his second stay, on April 2, 2000, was for not paying a fine
for loud noise.
Thomas' final citation for driving without a license, on
May 4, 2000, led to his being incarcerated until May 16.
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Photo By Jymi Bolden
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Angela Leisure leaves New Prospect Baptist Church after
her son's funeral. Second from left is Kweisi Mfume, national
president of the NAACP.
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Police spokesman Lt. Kurt Byrd says a person cited for driving
without a license would have to park his car and not drive home.
If other violations have occurred, the car might be towed, Byrd
says.
But Angela Leisure, Thomas' mother, says he drove the car
home after at least two citations for driving without a license.
Police cannot guard a car for 24 hours, Byrd says. Thomas
could have returned to the car when they weren't looking,
he says.
How many times can a person be cited for driving without
a license before being arrested?
"There's actually not a number there," Byrd says. "Typically
for the city of Cincinnati, we issue a citation with a mandatory
court appearance."
The pattern of Thomas' driving history -- repeatedly cited
for the same offenses, then allowed to go on his way -- raises
serious questions about the way Cincinnati Police enforce
traffic laws, according to Johnson.
"Are we now playing a game to get bumps on our work sheet
or are we trying to keep somebody from violating the law?"
he says.
At a March 19 meeting of the Law and Public Safety Committee,
City Councilman David Crowley raised the possibility of ineffectiveness
in the way police and the courts handled Thomas' driving offenses.
"Timothy Thomas might be dead today regardless of whether
he was arrested and put in jail for six or nine months," he
said. "But then again, if he got the table cleared, he might
not have been."
Streicher did not try to argue the point.
"I respect that," he said. "That's a very good possibility."
Leslie Blade, a teacher at the University of Cincinnati,
has been trying for most of a year to get the city to look
at the pattern of police interaction with Thomas. She tried
to get the Law Committee to study the issue when she spoke
at its meeting May 14, 2001.
"His address is the same on all 12 tickets," Blade said.
"If they're so concerned about picking someone up, he didn't
move around. He was at the same address and again now we're
here a year later and it turns into a mangled mess."
'Behavior that cannot be confronted
legally'
As 19-year-olds go, Thomas apparently was not a bad driver.
None of his tickets involved traffic crashes. They didn't
involve speeding, let alone more serious charges. Indeed,
only one of the tickets in Thomas' files was for a moving
violation.
Of the 14 warrants and capiases Thomas was wanted on, eight
were for operating a motor vehicle without a license and four
were for seat belt violations.
A cop doesn't know a driver has no license until he pulls
the driver over. The same is true of seat belt violations.
These two offenses -- driving without a license and driving
without a seat belt -- are often cited in studies of racial
profiling by police. A CityBeat investigation last
year, for example, showed Cincinnati Police cited more than
twice as many African Americans for driving without licenses
and for not wearing seat belts than they did whites -- even
though blacks are a minority of the city's drivers (see Moving
Violations issue of March 8-14, 2001).
Blade believes harassment was behind the extraordinary number
of traffic tickets Thomas received.
"From Feb. 29 through May 4 -- so we're talking 65 days
that this young man got 12 citations, which honestly I think
is statistically impossible unless someone's hounding you,"
Blade told the committee. "I mean, it's just kind of obvious
on its face."
Attorney Kenneth Lawson, who represents Thomas' mother,
agrees. Lawson also represents the Black United Front in a
lawsuit in federal court over racial profiling by Cincinnati
Police. He has seen the pattern that swept up Thomas' life.
"All they're doing really is pulling him over checking him
for drugs," Lawson says. "Their intent was to take him to
jail, but not for traffic."
But for all his encounters with police, Thomas never had
any drug charges on his record.
"Not everybody down there is dealing drugs and not everybody
who runs from the police is doing something illegal," Lawson
says.
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Photo By Jymi Bolden
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Police Chief Thomas Streicher addresses the Law and
Public Safety Committee on March 19. At left is activist
Jackie Shropshire of the West End.
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Police frequently harassed young black men in the family's neighborhood
in Evanston, according to Leisure. Police would jump out of
cars and force the men to the ground and search them, only to
let them go.
"I thought half of the young black men over there were profiled,"
she says.
Byrd says he is unaware of the incidents. Citizens who witness
misconduct by officers should file complaints so police can
investigate them, he says.
Police were less than discreet about their feelings toward
those who lived in the neighborhood, Leisure says.
"Whenever they came, they would turn on their loudspeaker
and tell people to get off their sidewalk," she says.
Once Leisure and her son Timothy watched as police threw
a neighbor down and searched him in front of their apartment
building.
"Tim was like, 'Man, Mom! They're always doing stuff like
that. You know if it was nighttime it would be worse,' " Leisure
says.
Thomas was terrified of police, his mother says. "He had
been thrown up against the wall and on the ground with the
kneecap in the back of the head in broad daylight," she says.
This happened twice, Leisure says.
"I witnessed both of those times myself," she says.
She also remembers the disrespect implicit in the way police
asked young black men if they had any drugs.
"They would always call them by their first name," Leisure
says. "It was black cops, too."
Why did Timothy Thomas run from police April 7, 2001? Perhaps
the better question is why wouldn't he run.
"A lot of people are running from the police not because
they're doing anything illegal, but because they're tired
of being harassed," Lawson says.
At the May 14, 2001, hearing, City Councilman Jim Tarbell
rejected the suggestion police had harassed Thomas.
"I can assure you that in my experience these police officers
have a whole lot more to do than to hone in on any individual
who has misdemeanor violations in the form of a personal vendetta,"
Tarbell said. "It simply doesn't happen in my 30 years of
experience in Over-the-Rhine."
But then Tarbell unwittingly framed the case in the very
terms used to define racial profiling: police action against
people for reasons that have nothing to do with breaking the
law.
"If there is something that seems unusual, it is usually
because there is something else going on," Tarbell said. "There
is another form of behavior that cannot be confronted legally,
so they will use whatever means possible they can to address
that individual's behavior. I'm not saying that's the case
here, but that is frequently the case."
Tarbell then made a shocking suggestion: Perhaps police
cited Thomas for minor violations but deliberately let him
go on more serious ones.
"When you see, as we did here, safety belt violations, in
my experience -- this is just my experience -- that would
suggest there's something else going on, that there was a
more serious violation such as running a stop sign and rather
than give a ticket for running a stop sign, which is not going
to be paid, they will stop the individual so as to see if
there's anything else more serious going on," Tarbell said.
"If they look at the record and yet another running a stop
sign citation seems superfluous, they will do something to
justify the fact that they stopped them and usually it will
fall to the least of the offenses."
Byrd, the police spokesman, says he was not close enough
to the situation to comment on the Thomas case. But speaking
more generally, he offers an explanation for the frequency
with which police stopped Thomas.
"You have a tendency to start noticing the same person,
so that face implants in your mind," he says.
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Photo By Jymi Bolden
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The Rev. Damon Lynch III tries to calm rioting that
erupted following Thomas' shooting by Officer Stephen
Roach in April 2001.
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But that explanation leads right back to the first question:
If Thomas were familiar to officers as a man wanted on multiple
traffic tickets, why didn't they go to his house and arrest
him? Thomas lived at the same Woodburn Avenue address for all
of the year 2000. All of his tickets listed the same address.
"He was at the same address at all times," Leisure says.
The 480 Club and 'dead time'
Writing tickets often means police officers have to spend
time in courtrooms. This, in turn, can translate to extra
money in their paychecks. Perhaps the most odious explanation
for giving Thomas so many tickets is the easiest to understand:
overtime pay.
The arrangement can be lucrative. According to Byrd, if
a first-shift officer testifies during his regular work day,
he gets no additional credited hours --- it is considered
part of his shift. If a second-shift or third-shift officer
testifies in his off-schedule hours, he is credited three
hours of time. This credited time applies whether or not the
officer actually spends three hours in court.
"Five minutes or two hours -- you get three hours back,"
Byrd says.
It gets even better. For officers on third shift, there's
also what's known as "dead time." Any time an officer goes
into court within eight hours of getting off duty, they receive
credit for "dead time." An officer who gets off work at 7
a.m., for example, gets two hours of dead time, at straight
pay, in order to appear in court at 9 a.m.
Under federal law, an officer can accumulate only 480 hours
of compensatory time during his career. After that is accumulated,
the time spent in court is paid to the officer. An officer
who has already reached the level of 480 accumulated hours
receives pay for any additional hours credited for court appearances.
Byrd denies this creates an incentive for officers to write
tickets. In fact, some of the officers dislike the system,
he says.
"There's a lot of guys who like that 480," he says. "There's
a lot of guys who dislike it."
But Johnson says the overtime rules can be a motivation
for officers.
"Absolutely it's an incentive," he says. "Do we have officers
that take advantage of the 480 compensation? Absolutely."
When an officer writes tickets that he knows are unjustified,
Lawson says, he expects the drivers to make plea bargains,
so the cop probably won't even have to testify.
"The chances of a cop having to commit perjury knowing that
he's lying when he's writing a ticket is slim," Lawson says.
Even if cops testify falsely, they know a judge is going
to believe them rather than the drivers, according to Lawson.
"I think a lot of tickets are written not only for court
time," he says. "It's twofold. It's not only money, but it's
also harassment. Yeah, overtime has something to do with it
and I think harassment has something to do with it."
When Roach shot Thomas, police hadn't chased him for almost
a year -- after twice chasing him the year before. He missed
six court appearances between March and June 2000. But Thomas
also appeared in court at least 19 times between March and
May.
Leisure says he lost two long-term assignments with a temporary
agency because he missed so much work due to court appearances.
One job paid $11 an hour.
'I'm locking you up next time'
Sitting in her Golf Manor home, Angela Leisure looks with
pain at copies of her son's traffic tickets. They're the reason
given for his death.
"I know he had been trying to get it taken care of, but
I also know he was frustrated, too," Leisure says.
Thomas and his fiancée had a baby. The couple was preparing
to marry. After May 4, 2000, Thomas didn't receive another
traffic ticket. According to his mother, he thought the mess
was over.
On April 13, 2000, he pleaded no contest to driving without
a license, and a seat belt charge was dismissed. Municipal
Judge John Andrew West ordered Thomas to pay $200 and court
costs by June 13.
During the trial, West noted Thomas had been cited three
times for driving without a license.
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Photo By Jymi Bolden
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Leisure listens to Streicher's description of the chase
that ended in her son's death.
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"Don't come back on a fourth," West told him. "I'm locking you
up next time. Understand?"
But West was apparently ignorant of the scope of Thomas'
record. By that time, he had actually been cited eight times
for driving without a license.
On May 16, 2000, Thomas again appeared before Judge West,
after spending 12 days in jail. The judge sentenced Thomas
to the 12 days already served. But that unfortunately only
took care of one of the tickets -- something Thomas apparently
did not understand.
"He thought it was over," Leisure says. "When he got out
of jail, he said, 'Well, Mom, now I don't have to worry about
the tickets.' "
Thomas quit driving after that date, she says, and the traffic
tickets quit coming.
In another court transcript -- six days later, on May 22,
2000 -- Thomas seemed to indicate a belief his legal problems
were nearing an end.
In the hearing, Assistant Prosecutor Alan Triggs told Judge
West, "Mr. Thomas looks familiar to me, because I think he
was just here last week. Mr. Thomas has one, two, three, four,
five, six, seven, eight, nine pending NDL (no driver's license)
charges before you, which are on different dates. He was cited
on Feb. 29, March 6, March 10, March 17, March 21, March 22,
April 18, April 21 and May 4, all this year (2000)."
The judge then questioned Thomas about whether he was free
on bail or locked up.
"No," Thomas said. "The cases was dismissed."
Thomas said he had served 12 days in jail because of the
tickets.
But the prosecutor was skeptical.
"They're all NDL," Triggs said. "I can't see how they would
all be dismissed. I think they need to all be consolidated
if he's gonna get an attorney and have them work it out."
The judge then sent Thomas to get a public defender.
"Just a word to the wise: If you do not have a valid license,
do not drive," the judge told Thomas.
Three days later Thomas was back in West's court, explaining
he had gone to the public defender's office and was trying
to get the cases rescheduled to June 14, 2000.
"Hopefully, we can get them done and over with," Thomas
told the judge.
The proceedings concluded with West saying he wanted to
verify who the public defender was before setting all the
cases.
But Thomas never went back to court. His next contact with
the police came in July and August 2000, running from officers
when they chased him.
Almost a year went by before the police made contact with
him again. This time, the last time, the chase turned deadly.
The thrill of the hunt
Both Johnson and Byrd say police don't have time to go to
people's homes and arrest people wanted on minor offenses.
"You just don't have the manpower to run around and arrest
people on minor misdemeanor capiases," Johnson says.
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Photo By Jymi Bolden
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Thomas' death caused a fury. A year later many are
still unsatisfied with the pace of reforms in the Cincinnati
Police Department.
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But if officers see a wanted person on the street, Byrd says,
they have a duty to attempt an arrest.
"If you see a wanted person and he runs, generally younger
policemen chase a fleeing subject," he says. "If we see him
drive by or walk by, then we try to take the opportunity to
make the arrest."
But officers have to decide when and how to chase suspects,
according to Johnson.
"We're given a great deal of discretion, and who you chase
and how much vigor you put into the chase is totally up to
the individual," he says. "You have to use discretion on a
lot of different things."
For example, if an officer sees a person run a red light
on Reading Road when children are leaving school, he has to
decide whether it is safe to chase that person. In light of
the potential danger to children, Johnson says, he may choose
not to.
"If you happen to be chasing someone on a misdemeanor violation
and you feel it's getting dangerous, absolutely you have a
right to stop," Johnson says.
According to Johnson, most foot chases involve younger officers.
Every situation is different, and officers have to weigh whether
a chase justifies the risk. Nothing in police policy says
officers have to chase, he says.
In other words, Roach did not have to enter that alley.
He could have halted the chase at any time.
"You're not obligated to chase anybody," Johnson says. "That's
what the radio's for and that's what common sense is for."
Byrd admits police have a right to stop a foot pursuit.
"We can't run forever," he says. "There's a point either
you've caught him or he's gotten away."
Or, as in Thomas' case, the suspect is killed.
If Thomas were wanted on nothing but misdemeanor warrants
and capiases, why did Roach seem so intent on chasing him
through a dark alley in Over-the-Rhine? Tarbell points out
dispatchers hadn't explained Thomas was just a traffic-ticket
dodger, not a danger to anyone.
But even if Thomas had been wanted on violent felonies,
Roach had no justification for shooting him, according to
Streicher.
"No matter what the charges were that a person's wanted
for, the charges that he is wanted for, the warrants themselves
he was wanted for, never ever ever can be justification for
a use of force," he said.
The only time police can use deadly force is to prevent
serious injury or death to the officer or another person,
according to Byrd. Running from arrest is not grounds for
shooting someone, Streicher said.
"Running from the officer never rises to that level," Streicher
said. "You can be wanted for jaywalking and murder at the
same time. Just because you're wanted for murder doesn't give
me the authority to use force against you."
In the case of Timothy Thomas, the equation between crime
and punishment is all the more uneven.
"Tim Thomas shouldn't be dead because he didn't have a driver's
license," Johnson says.
If Roach didn't have to chase Thomas and had no cause to
shoot him, what can explain the chase to the death on April
7, 2001?
In his testimony March 19 before the Law Committee, Streicher
might have shed light on what happened, hinting at a kind
of cowboy attitude played out in urban streets. Chasing people
is not something police dislike, Streicher said.
"The cops like a good foot pursuit," he said. "It's fun.
Catch a bad guy. The thrill of victory. The agony of defeat.
There's kind of a competition between the cops and the bad
guys out there. Chasing somebody is not this giant dilemma
for us in policing. It's not. It's a matter of catch (sic)
and mouse." ©
