By Jag Davies, Policy Researcher, ACLU Drug Law Reform Project
What do you get when you combine the use of heavily armed paramilitary units for routine police work with a lack of prosecutorial and judicial oversight?
The cases of Tracy Ingles and Corey Maye underscore the death and destruction that are the inevitable outcomes of unsound, unbridled policing practices in the "War on Drugs."
As detailed in an Arkansas Times report and Reason Magazine's blog, on January 7, 2008, a paramilitary unit in North Little Rock conducted a drug raid on the home of 40-year-old Tracy Ingle. As Radley Balko described in his jaw-dropping 2006 Cato Institute report, "Overkill: The Rise of Paramilitary Police Raids in America," over 40,000 such raids occur each year in the U.S., most commonly to serve drug warrants, and often for misdemeanor, nonviolent offenses.
In Ingle's case, the police were able to obtain a no-knock warrant without presenting any evidence of why Ingle posed a risk to police safety and without even a specific reference to Ingle, who had no history of violence or drug law violations. When Ingle was awoken from a nap to the sound of his door being knocked down with a battering ram and police shattering his windows, he assumed he was being robbed and reached for a broken gun in an effort to ward off the intruders. When the officers entered the house and saw Ingle holding a gun, they opened fire, shooting him five times. One bullet nearly severed his leg by shattering his thighbone, and another entered just above his heart. After trashing his house, police found no drugs in Ingle's home.
Miraculously, Ingle survived following 10 days in intensive care. Unfortunately, though, Ingle's pain was just beginning. Ingle — still in hospital pajamas, unable to walk thanks to an infection in his leg, and with a bullet still lodged in his chest — was removed from intensive care, taken to the North Little Rock police department for five hours of questioning, arrested, and transferred to county jail. Ingle was charged with running a drug enterprise. The evidence? A scale and some plastic bags. Adding insult to injury, Ingle was also charged with assault, for pointing the broken gun at the police he mistook for armed robbers.
According to Balko, Ingle can't afford an attorney and is still looking for representation. He has no health insurance, no money to pay for medication, and no resources to continue treatment of his injuries. Tracy's sister has set up a Website that is accepting donations for his legal and medical expenses.
Another botched, unnecessarily aggressive paramilitary drug raid is the subject of "Mississippi Drug War Blues: The Story of Corey Maye," the latest installment of the Drew Carey Project on reason.tv.
On the day after Christmas, 2001, police obtained a search warrant to raid the home that Maye — a 21-year-old father of two with no criminal record — shared with his girlfriend and their 18-month-old daughter. The only evidence against Maye leading police to his home was the alleged assertion from a confidential informant that there was a "large stash" of marijuana inside his half of the duplex. Maye was not mentioned by name in any of the affidavits or warrants, and there was no evidence that he was selling drugs.
When a paramilitary police unit smashed through Maye's back door as he was dozing off in front of the television, he hid in his dark bedroom and grabbed his gun, assuming that the intruders were robbers. According to Maye's court testimony, when police burst into his bedroom, Maye fired three bullets into the darkness, then dropped his gun once the police identified themselves. Tragically, one of the bullets killed Officer Ron Jones, son of the local police chief. Instead of finding a "large stash" of marijuana, police found less than a gram — a misdemeanor offense.
The police told a slightly different story, claiming that they identified themselves before entering Maye's house and bedroom. As a result, Maye was indicted for capital murder, and in 2004 a jury sentenced him to death. Earlier this year, after a judge ruled that Maye's lawyer had been incompetent during the sentencing phase of his trial, Maye's sentence was reduced to life in prison without the possibility of parole.
As epitomized in Mississippi Drug War Blues and the case of Tracy Ingle, systemic flaws in our criminal justice system can easily cause unnecessary deaths and injuries, not just of drug offenders, but also of innocent suspects and police officers. By implementing basic safeguards and regulations that ensure ample oversight and corroboration of informant testimony, we can begin to rebuild the broken trust between police and the communities they aspire to serve and protect. To learn more about the ACLU's work to reform America's informant system, please visit aclu.org/unnecessaryevil.