Previously on Serial. You know, at first I was like, haha, you know, sad, but you don't have his audio. You don't hear the officer saying, police, break it up. You got to worry, I'm not, listen, I'm not going to press charges, it doesn't matter, you're fine.
Like, you'll just be seen as an irritant now in this case. Well, it's an obstructionist. You don't want to get a reputation for that. No, you'll be, not, you'll be fine.
That's fine, but you still have to go through this. From this American life in WBEZ Chicago, it's Serial. One courthouse told week by week, I'm sericating. First thing I said to myself when I looked at the list of felony judges in Kuyoga County was, holy cow, that's a lot of Irish names.
Well, truthfully, that was the second thing I said. First thing I said was, where are the Jews? Second thing, so many Irish. There's Judge Corrigan, another Judge Corrigan, Judge Holly Gallagher, Judge Shannon Gallagher, Judge Kelly Gallagher, Judge Shaughnessy, Judge Chian, Judge McClellan, Judge McClellan, Judge MacCormack, Judge MacCormack, Judge O'Donnell, and Judge Donnell, and Judge Donnellie.
Second to the Irish are the Italians, namely Russo, Russo, Russo, Russo, and Russo. Judge John J. Russo, Judge Joseph Russo, Judge Michael Russo, and Judge Nancy Margaret Russo. At the end of the list is Judge Zatula and her cousin, Judge Zatula.
And finally, Judge Sineberg. I know, sounds like my kind of judge, which is actually Italian, married to Sineberg. The Upshot. In a courthouse where the majority of the defendants is black, out of the 34 felony judges, 32 are white, two are African American.
Early on in my reporting here, I was on the 19th floor of the Justice Center, and I wandered into the courtroom of Judge Daniel Gall, just in time to hear him sentencing someone. I think it was four years ago I was about to get. I didn't record it, but I took notes. You're pathetic, the judge was saying.
You're pathetic, dude. My father had a saying. I shouldn't say this in court, but I'm gonna say it. You're a bullshit artist.
You're a criminal and a liar, and you've used the system all your life. Then the bullshit artist says to Judge Gall, a liar, a cheater, that's not what I built my life on. Don't come in here and make these pretty speeches, Judge Gall says. You've got what's called a mortal character flaw.
The man says, I'm not gonna let you down. I left the courtroom a little wigged out. I'd never heard a judge talk to a defendant quite like that, raw and brutal and confusingly intimate, as if these two men were locked in a personal argument rather than a legal one. The man up on the bench, tight and small, acting the enraged parent, the other chin up but shamed, trying to mollify.
The judge's job here, when it comes to sentencing, is broadly speaking, to punish the offender and to protect the public. There are sentencing guidelines, of course, spelled out in excruciating detail in the Ohio revised code. And I'd assume the guideline's meant that sentencing was fairly mechanical. A certain kind of charge would produce a certain kind of sentence, plus or minus a wiggly room in the margin to account for special circumstances or whatever else.
But it's not like that. County judges in Ohio have a lot of leeway in sentencing, a lot of discretion, to interpret what punishment consists of, what danger to the public looks like. Leeway, discretion, that's power by another name. Today's episode, we're gonna spend it all in one place in Judge Gall's courtroom.
And we chose his room, we as our producer, Manuel, Jocey and I, because frankly, it's sometimes thrilling in there. The shock factor alone is worth the price of admission, but also because his room, more than any other person, is a little bit more than anything. Also because his room, more than any we saw, laid bare this prodigious power that judges hold, and the many ways they can wield that power to try to get what they want. Emmanuel's gonna tell part of today's episode.
He actually moved to Cleveland for us, went to the Justice Center almost every day. He'll be reporting some of this series, so you'll hear from him throughout. And hang on to your hats, America. Emmanuel went to high school and college in Ohio, but he sounds like an Englishman.
Long story. Here's Emmanuel. It's been about five months off and on, watching cases in Judge Gall's courtroom. And so I can say with confidence that this is a typical day.
Do you have any common sense of all dude? Why do you just pull over? Most of what's happening in Judge Gall's courtroom, in any courtroom, are pleas and sentences. Transly exception.
So this one I'm starting with, sentencing for a 19-year-old I'm gonna call Terrell, isn't unusual anyway. Terrell was caught driving a stolen car. He then put police in the chase. He put guilty about a month earlier, and now he was back in front of Judge Gall for sentencing.
So let's back up for a second here. Please tell me who's in the courtroom, is that your mother in the far corner to the left? Yes, sir. Hi, how are you today?
Terrell's family is sitting back there, which is usually a good thing for a defendant. He's meant to telegraph if there are people who can keep the defendant in line. Should he or she be released? Who else is here with your mother?
His sister? Okay, hi, how are you? Judge Gall greets Terrell's sister, and another sister and brother, then turns back to Terrell. Starts to churn out a lecture anyone with better behaved siblings are said.
When you're not in jail, do you live with those fine people? Yes. That's too bad for them, isn't it? Because you've been pretty much of a bad guy, you're two nice sisters and your nice brother.
They don't have these problems, do they? But you bring grief to their door, don't you? Don't you tell me. Judge Gall looks at Terrell's PSI, presenting investigation, which is details about Terrell's background.
Is your father in the picture? I see him, Terrell says. What is happening? They were divorced when you were five.
Director? Did your father have criminal record? Terrell says, not what I know of. Has he been to the detention?
He's a decent guy. What's he doing for a living? You don't know him, he sort of deserted you in the fact, right? Your brother's and sisters, full brothers and sisters are step sisters.
You're a good brother, a full brothers and sisters. And your parents divorced when you were five. Is that correct? If you're hearing a sharp note of racial stereotyping and judge Gall's questions, an assumption on the part of the judge that this black family is redless and unstable, but all these kids must be from different, possibly incarcerated fathers.
Yeah. I'm guessing Terrell hears it too. I'm quite certain his attorney, John Stanan hears it. He's standing just behind Terrell, a patipodium in the middle of the courtroom.
He's got one hand, a patipack of Terrell's neck, and the other firmly on Terrell's hip, as though he's physically trying to steer Terrell's bruises. Mother, do you want him back? Take a look? Terrell's mother says yes she wants him back.
Plus she says Terrell's son needs him. Right, that was the other thing, are you married? No, you're not, you're in the kind of jail. And you've been in the kind of jail hall hall?
Okay, so when I ask you if you're working, you don't work in the kind of jail, you don't support your child. And you had a baby at what age? 18. Was that a smart move?
That was also a bad decision, right? So let's just read you. Judge Gall lists for bad decisions, that led Terrell to this moment. And he's not altogether wrong.
A lot of bad decisions were in play. Finally, Judge Gall sentenced his Terrell to four years of probation, not a terrible outcome for him, considering Judge Gall could have given him almost three years in prison. Judge Gall explains the term for Terrell's probation, periodic drug testing, get a job, and he takes from one last condition. He tells Terrell that if he has another child out of wedlock, that he can't support, you will consider that a violation of his probation.
Mother, would you never... Thank you. Your mother's talked to you about that. Responsibility.
It's responsibility to the community. I'm in that town with you having kids and dumping them into graves on the shoulders of the taxpayer. I know some people don't think that's politically correct, but that's my view. That's my view.
And if you demonstrate your responsibility to the court, I will send you to the pen tip, you get a job, and believe me, you're going to pay child support, you're a support for every child that you have. Terrell doesn't say anything. His attorney, John Stanley, thanks Judge Gall, and his courts has gone out. No one in the room can tell that what Judge Gall is just threatened to do is unconstitutional.
He can't punish Terrell for having a child, not legally, but this is the sort of thing Judge Gall does. As the day continues, he puts the same condition on two more defendants. If your probation to me and you have more kids out of wedlock than you can afford to pay for, I'm going to send you right back to the institution. As far as I know, Judge Gall has never made good on this.
He issues threats all the time. You're going to tap your cell phone, you can test your hair follicles for opiates right now, and it's all bluster. The attorneys know that. And what they also know is that as long as you don't piss him off, Judge Gall isn't an especially tough sentence, sir.
All of the punishments he handed out on this day were reasonable for this building. He put people on probation, whom he could have sent to prison, and the people he did send to prison, he said he considered giving early release. So, for defendants and their attorneys, the strategy in Judge Gall's courtroom is, enjoy whatever he loves at you. Don't challenge him.
Don't trigger him. And you'll probably come out okay. That's what a defense attorney like John Stanan is trying to convey by squeezing through his shoulders. Just hold on.
Don't say anything. We're almost there. Can you see me one second? Back in his office, Judge Gall's got souvenirs from Ireland.
A lot of the judges have Ireland stuff in their chambers. He's also got one of those putter things. Hi, there are a lot of golf balls. You want to be funny by the slip and fall case from your golf balls.
We have to get a visiting job. Judge Gall is at home here. He's nestled into the building, along with the sons of other prominent Clevelanders. On his floor are two other judges whose fathers were also county judges.
Judge Gall's own father was a Cleveland City Councilman and later county treasurer. Judge Gall started out as a defense and civil attorney, and then ran for Judge in 1992. County judges are elected in Ohio. He hasn't lost an election since.
There have been four of them. He's known around here as a TV judge, controversially entertaining. The way he talks, the way he reacts instantaneously to stimuli. It's why the Cleveland dot com reporter sometimes parks himself in Judge Gall's room on a slow news day.
A recent headline, woman convicted and murder conspiracy, calls Judge racist, gets life sentence. Here's another. Judge compares man acquitted of murder charge to Las Vegas shooter at sentencing. Note the word acquitted of murder.
In that one, Judge Gall said that if the defendant had pulled a gun on him on Judge Gall, quote, I would have busted a cap in you, unquote. The defendant's name was DiMaggio Callahan. Judge Gall said he remembered this guy from a previous case because, quote, he's got an Italian first name and an Irish last name, and he's a brother. He'll often call black defendants brother and dude.
You got a bit of an attitude, your brother. Emmanuel told me that in eight months of watching his courtroom, the only black person he didn't hear Judge Gall call brother or dude was Emmanuel. He used the terms like baby's mama and baby's daddy, which impossible for a white guy to do without making the whole room cringe. He has no truck with political correctness.
He's apt to use the term race card. If you throw it down in his courtroom, he says it is not going to work. I eat woman calls Judge racist, gets life sentence. He'll work the Black Lives Matter movement into his colloquy as a pun, I guess.
His black life didn't matter to you, did it? He'll say, has said, more than once. He'll black defend it regarding a black victim. Judge Gall knows he's blunt, knows he's skirting, not the quibble, but I see crossing various lines constitutionally and socially.
He says he's been called all the names, misogynist, racist, but he says that is the price he pays for trying to connect with defendants. Now I have been criticized in the past for maybe using a little slang or being a little bit too casual sometimes, but I'm talking to a group of people, and I want to speak to them in their idiom. In language that they can understand, not in legal ease, not in foot-noted references and germs, I just, hey dude, get real. I really want them to understand me and understand that I understand them.
He's doing something up there, he says. He's not just a functionary. Say what you will about Judge Gall's personal views and his manner and his temperament, and I will say many things here, but he is not cynical. He's fundamentally optimistic in a way, but he can fix what's broken, defendant by defendant.
And I really think I know these people sometimes better than they know themselves, and I share this information from them, I make them think about their lives. Every day Judge Gall is seeing all these depressing stats made manifest. It's almost always there in the PSIs. He'll see that the defendants' parents were drug addicts or abusive, couldn't or didn't take care of their children, maybe ended up in prison themselves.
And now this person, a product of foster care and a word of education with kids of his or her own, comes before Judge Gall having committed a crime, sometimes a horrible crime. It's a rotten family cycle, and Judge Gall wants to break it. He told Emmanuel that's why he's asking defendants about their children. You ask me why I ask people how many kids they have.
Why go there? Because it should be an issue of social concern. It's not politically correct to ask people how many children they have. Why, I don't know, I think perhaps because some people think it disses women.
It's not about that. If I believe that most of the people are in here because of abuse or abandonment or neglect as a child, and I do, then I want to see too it that there aren't kids that are just born and left by themselves in abandon. You know, some people would say, well, you're a misogynist. Wait a second.
I'm defending little boys and little girls who are brought into this world and raised in foster care for the rest of their life. Why do you think they're a chance of this, Emmanuel? And what percentage of the kids can be born into poverty before we don't have a middle class anymore? Or there's a permanent underclass?
So, theory, meet, practice. Please tell me you don't have children. This woman had pleaded guilty to theft and incited on a Macy's. You have children?
How many? Her lawyer tries to help her out. He explains she has one child and a second on the way. Then she'll threaten it now.
Even better. Wonderful. Who's the first baby's dad? Judge Goll gave her a couple years probation.
This was on a Monday. Over the weekend, Judge Goll had read an article about the percentage of children born on Medicaid. After the Macy's woman left the courtroom, he started talking about it. Anybody see the story in the paper about the percentage of children born in this country on Medicaid?
Anybody see this? I don't even want to know. I'm on a defense attorney. New Mexico, I think, leads the country.
72%. He told them. And the national average is over 50%. I believe it's a prosecutor.
We'd hear Judge Goll cite this statistic from the bench several times as the month went on. Judge Goll is one of the most transparent judges in the building. His worldview seemed woven into every proceeding. He liked the old days better, and Cleveland was better, and America was better.
When people were more respectful, more resilient, less whiny. Now we're dealing with a generation raised on ADHD medication, which did who knows what to their brain chemistry, and these millennials nourished on participation trophies, think they're owed something from the rest of us. All of this, this whole building, the 13,000 felony cases moving through the criminal court each year, Judge Goll traces it to a frightful shortage of personal responsibility. Sentencing in Ohio, the recent history of it, is similar to what's evolved all over the country.
Back in the mid-1990s, when we were freaking out about rising violent crime, Ohio, like many states, revamped its sentencing laws. It redefined certain felonies, made some punishments harsher, and got rid of parole for most cases. And I'm going to shamelessly oversimplify for a second because the reasons why Ohio's prison population climbed are complex and super interesting, by the way, but just now it did climb, mostly because people began serving longer sentences. In 1974, Ohio prisons held 10,700 people.
By 2011, they held almost 51,000 people, a 400% increase. That's expensive, more than a billion and a quarter dollars expensive. So that year, 2011, Ohio, again, like other places, swung back the other way. It passed new legislation aimed at unpacking the prisons.
It gave judges more options for diverting low-level felons to alternative punishments, and broadened the opportunities for probation. That suits Judge Goll just fine. He likes probation. He likes lengthy probation.
I probably put more people on probation than any other judge in the score house. Because I can always put them in prison later, right? And I keep my eye on them. Probation gives Judge Goll ongoing control over people's lives.
It's his best hope for getting them to change. And I probably have anywhere between, I don't know, a couple thousand people on probation to me. 50% of people on probation, finally. Probation, what insiders call getting paper rather than time, is what most defendants want.
But probation has its own hazards. Probation here is actually called community control sanctions, emphasis on the control, which is why I have heard defendants tell judges they'd rather pay a big fine or just do some jail time and get it over with, rather than beyond probation. On probation, you're out, but you're not free. You are still tethered to the courthouse.
And the conditions of your release can worm their way into almost every aspect of your life. They can dictate who you live with, where you work, whether you can have a beer after work, whether you can go to your uncle's funeral, or your niece's wedding. It's so easy to slip up. A dirty urine test, a missed meeting, maybe you get indicted on a new crime, and you're back before Judge Goll.
That's why he's got more cases than most judges in the building, because of all those probation violations. We watched one violation hearing for a woman named Vivian. I know you quite well. We've talked on five or six occasions now.
Correct? I was upset. So I feel like an idiot. Judge Goll doesn't know Vivian pretty well, but he knows her specs.
She's 29, single, three children. Her youngest is three months old. A couple of years ago in 2015, she pleaded guilty to felony drug possession. She got caught with a small amount of cocaine.
Rather than convict her of the felony, Judge Goll granted her what's called an ILC, intervention in lieu of conviction. Works sort of like probation. The idea is that Vivian can do everything she's supposed to. Her case will go away.
The list of requirements is significant. Report weekly, undergo drug testing, complete intensive outpatient drug treatment, go to AA meetings, obtain a sponsor, get counted, and get counted. She's done everything. Accept, stay clean.
A recent drug test she's been using. This is her fifth violation for six times before Judge Goll. And I'm telling you that you've got to deal with the drug problem or you're going to lose your job and your children are living in Harvard. Judge Goll takes time with Vivian.
For a matter of another judge you might have dealt with in five minutes tops, Judge Goll spends 20 minutes talking to her. That's a dog's age in this building. He spins through the usual jazz about babies, daddies, and bad decisions in the welfare state, Medicaid, New Mexico, 72%. But he also seems sincere about trying to help her.
He bores into the detail of her schedule, asks about her job. She works nights in the kitchen of a casino for $10 an hour. Bad idea, he tells her. That's exactly the kind of place where you're going to be offered cocaine.
You need to stop the second shift work. I think it's set me up for better. I do. You can get up and get the kids off and get the kids daycare and work during the daylight hours so that you and the children can rest at the same time.
You need to get honest. You're working, you know, 16 hours a day. We're about to help with anybody. Three months ago at another violation hearing, Judge Goll got fed up and sent Vivian to jail for a week to try to scare her straight.
That didn't work. Today she's desperate not to get locked up. She's where she'll lose her children. Her comportment is deft.
She knows not to beg in here, not to whine. She admits her weakness, flags her strength. She tells him all on her own she's enrolled herself in an intensive outpatient drug treatment program, an IOP. I just feel like I should do better and I can do better.
And if you give me the opportunity, I can't be seen out there. I know I've done wrong numerous times, but I've been wrong myself. It's a not a key program without court order, without anybody telling you to let it down. Vivian's attorney today requests that Judge Goll transferred Vivian to drug court.
Instead of remaining under Judge Goll's supervision, she'd be put on a specialized docket designed specifically for her. People who aren't violent, who don't want to be criminals, but who get in trouble with the law because of their addiction. Over in drug court, they use a therapeutic model. Their question is not how can we best punish you?
It's how can we best help you get better? One of the drug court judges is Joan Sennenberg, who has a social work background. Actually, she's the recovery court judge, which is a docket for people struggling with both mental health and drug problems. And it is a different vibe over there.
Just really fast. I'm going to show you. I was with her one day when she popped into that courtroom to say hi. Hi, how are you?
How are you? Another judge was substituting for her because she was tied up on a murder trial. The participants sat in the jury box and on the benches, the atmosphere was casual and warm. I miss you a lot.
Are we missing? I'm sorry, I'm just saying. Right? I love you.
I love you. On the way out, Judge Sennenberg ran into one of the recovery court participants in the hallway, got him crag, gave him a big hug. He's amazing. Yeah.
He's one of the most amazing. Your mother's inspiration. He's probably, I'm amazing. A little hectic and stressful, but amazing.
This whole experience is amazing. I'm so proud of you. You have come so far. Nice, right?
No one gets torn down in drug court. No one is asked why they're pregnant. I'm not saying it's a cure-all. Ohio has been devastated by the opioid crisis.
But research shows that programs like these are the best way we found to help people with drug problems stay out of the criminal justice system. So, Vivian's attorney asks for drug court, and the probation department, which is staffed with substance abuse specialists and social workers, they're well regarded around here. They're also recommending Vivian for drug court. But Judge Gall flicks that idea aside.
As if drug court is going to do something different than what we've already done. It's as if he's saying, I got this. Ideal with addiction all day long. Vivian's just got to buckle down, stay the course.
She doesn't need drug court. She has me. Vivian's attorney doesn't push back much on this. He even seems to agree with Judge Gall with difference what it make.
One difference. In drug court, she'd have one defense attorney dedicated to her case. He'd follow her progress and update the judge. But this guy is her fifth attorney.
Each time she has to appear before Judge Gall, she's assigned someone new. First, there's a public defender, Linda Rico, who negotiated the aisle CDL. Since then, it's been assignmentless attorneys. There's Charles Morgan, Jim Hoefflic, and Aaron Brockler, who represented her at two hearings, actually.
Today, it's Joseph O'Malley. Their goal, all of them, is to keep Vivian out of jail. Other than that, they don't have much of a stake here. They're not thinking too hard about how she progresses with drug treatment or what would work best for her.
They're getting paid $100 for this hearing. And the moment's over, she's not their client anymore. Today, Judge Gall ends up putting Vivian on house arrest at her own suggestion. I'm sure Vivian would like this interaction with Judge Gall to be her last, but alas, she is midstream.
A month from now, she'll be indicted for theft for using a friend's credit card. At another hearing, Judge Gall will tell Vivian she's out of control and he'll send her to jail. She'll spend 51 days there while the credit card case gets sorted out. She'll be guilty to a couple of first-degree misdemeanors.
Judge Gall will tell her she's weak, indulgent, selfish. He'll tell her to quit the tears sweetheart, and he'll give her a suspended jail sentence, more home detention, plus two years probation. Now, instead of three AA meetings a week, she must go to four a week. Two months later, she'll violate again.
This time, she'll beg for inpatient treatment. She'll tell Judge Gall her cousin died three weeks ago from an overdose, and she's afraid. I need help. I need help.
She'll say it seven times. I need to learn to get through this sickness. You call it a sickness and I call it a crime, he'll say. He'll send her to jail.
Once again, she will leave for three sons, who by this time are nine years old, six years old, and nine months old, with her grandmother. After Vivian has spent 66 days locked up, her ninth assigned lawyer will write Judge Gall asking him to let her out, and Judge Gall will release Vivian from jail. We'll put her on probation for another year and a half, and now she must attend five AA meetings a week. Judge Gall is trying to help Vivian, at least I think he is, but consider.
If Vivian had gone to drug court, that new theft charge would have been rolled into her existing case. It would not have affected her status in drug court at all. If she'd been in drug court, it's unlikely she would have spent even one day in the county jail, much less 127 days. If she'd been in drug court and if she was anything like the other drug court participants, almost all of whom backslide and struggle, to have graduated from that program in about 13 months.
As it stands, she's been embroiled with Judge Gall for three and a half years, and counting for fewer than five grams of cocaine. This is possibly the most profound and least examined question in the building. What works? The court doesn't gather statistics on sentencing, and that's true for most of the country by the way.
No data that says defendants in Cuyoga County do better after six months of probation than after three years of probation, or in terms of reoffending four years in prison yields better results than seven years in prison. We just don't know. Which I found rather astounding when I realized no one is tracking this. The court keeps extensive data regarding efficiency.
How many cases are moving through who's dockets and how quickly, which I'm not knocking efficiency, it's important. So I people here are generally not waiting years and years for their cases to resolve, and that's good. There's no database locally or nationally that shows what works. So each judge in the building has to muddle it out for him or herself.
Judge Cassandra Collier Williams put it to me this way. There's 34 judges up here, and it's like 34 different cities. Of course judges here aren't just winging it, or mostly they're not winging it. They're basing their decisions on the sentencing guidelines and on their professional experience, but they're also making decisions based on their life experience, on where they come from, and who they know, and where they live, and what they read, and what it is they hold dear.
Duck into various courtrooms and you feel it right away. Mr. Cook how old are you? I need to just speak up just a little bit.
Judge Collier Williams on the 23rd floor taking a plea, case of phlonious assault with a gun. She painstakingly lists for Mr. Cook all the rights he's getting up by not going to trial. With gentleness she makes double sure he understands what she's saying.
Okay, so what's the total time you're looking at the possibility from five to 11 years? Understand? Yes. Okay.
Finally she lectures him. Thank you. I accept your P.F. guilty to count three and find you guilty.
They're on. Just kidding. She's done. No must no fuss.
Though we have seen her do this. You have 30 days to raise your vote, and she'll prove to be a probation officer, and now you're required to vote in all elections, and the reason why I do that is not a matter of the election. The reason why I do that is because people died for this right. Just call your Williams wants felons to participate in democracy, like everybody else, but she actually stopped doing this ever since the ACLU had a little chat with her.
Again, unconstitutional. Judge Michael Donnelly on 19, he'll only discuss police on the record, no backroom sentencing deals. Judge Janet Burnside down on 16 finds she's giving people accused of serious crimes longer and longer prison terms because she's so struck by the sheer violence she's seeing. But for probation she swings light.
She wants to get people off of court supervision as quickly as possible. Few years ago the probation department started using what are called evidence-based practices to determine probation. You ask a bunch of questions to try to figure out a defendant's risk of recidivism and tailor the conditions of probation to his or her level of risk. A PowerPoint I saw in the method included a slide that said, Avoid threatening, lecturing, arguing, shaming, or sympathizing.
But judges don't have to take the probation department's recommendations. They're optional. Judge Kathleen Ann Sattula back up on 23 says she uses the evidence-based thing only sometimes. Her philosophy is akin to judge goals.
She told us short probation, that's throwing a person away. She'll typically give five years probation, super strict conditions. 98 A-Means in 90 days for instance. And if you miss a day you have to start over.
She owns her reputation as a tough judge. Wake up! Mean would be the tamest thing we heard to describe her. But I gotta say we didn't see that so much.
She was tough but we didn't get the feeling her toughness was self-serving. We watched the sentencing of a young guy, 19. He'd stolen a bunch of cars. Other guys were involved but they didn't get indicted.
It was intense. She asked the defendant, you live with your father. So why didn't he pay your bond? Two hundred and fifty bucks and you could have gone home months ago instead of sitting in jail all this time.
You know we called your father. He said he didn't know your address or where you say. That's a crime, Chief. Yes ma'am.
Yes ma'am. He was smurfs. You're standing here all alone. There's no Lewis, there's no Martina, and even your father doesn't want to stand here with you.
Does this tell you something? Do you have any thoughts about this in your head? Yes ma'am. What are they?
Share them with me. I've been going down the road down. Yeah. Big time.
By the end they're talking about his future plans. She mentions college. I don't know. Can one stiff talking to change the trajectory of a teenager's life?
I don't know. Maybe. When I ask judges here, how do you know? How do you know if what you're doing is working?
They talk about the people who come back, just to visit or who write letters or whom they see on the street, who say thank you for being hard on me or thank you for giving me a chance. You help me. I have my kids back. I'm doing well.
Which must be great for a judge to hear. But rigorous evidence it isn't. For Judge Gall, I wasn't exactly sure what he needed to see from a defendant in order to declare success. Until he came upon the case of Rishan Ellis.
That's after this. When Judge Gall sentences someone, the principle thing he's looking for is remorse. Re-abilitation can't begin. Until there's some acceptance of responsibility.
Some candor with the court. Some demonstration of remorse. Acceptance of responsibility. Showing remorse.
Judge Gall did not invent these phrases. They come from federal and state sentencing guidelines. And they sound bedrockish. They're probably chiseled into the courthouse while someplace.
But in practice, they're controversial. Because acceptance of responsibility or showing genuine remorse. What does that mean? What's that supposed to look like?
It's subjective. Some judges will say, well, you played guilty, so that's taking responsibility right there. That's enough for me. But in Judge Gall's room, plea alone, definitely not enough.
He needs to hear you say it. Even better he wants to feel you feeling it. If you do, it's a good bet your sentence will be lighter. If you deflect responsibility or stay mum on the subject.
The sentence could be heavier. The starkest example we saw of this was the sentencing of a guy named Rishan Ellis. Rishan was 31. He'd been a defendant in many cases.
Ever since he was a teenager. Some charges he beat, some he hadn't. Near before he picked up a new case. Or caught a new case, as if it's a virus.
Anyway, Rishan caught a new case. Serious charges. Flowniest assault. Weapons violations.
It was a messy incident, but the gist was that a guy shot a gun out the window of Rishan's car while Rishan was driving. And a fight had broken out. Early on, Judge Gall made a claim he thought Rishan should plead guilty. But Rishan said he wasn't the instigator of this debacle.
And what's more, he had tried to deescalate the situation. To break up the fight. He'd been scared for his own life, he said. Rishan took the case to trial.
And he won. Mostly. He was acquitted of the most serious charge. Flowniest assault.
But he was convicted on two weapons charges. Both of which carried the possibility of prison time. Because of the gun in the car, even though it wasn't Rishan's gun, and he didn't fire it, the jury found he was still criminally responsible for it. Immediately after the verdict, with the jury still sitting there, Judge Gall launched.
Rishan he said he should resolve this case a long time ago. User are going to be looking at the harsh task event. Okay? Because I'm not going to put on a street.
A person that's so dysfunctional and destructive. That doesn't understand that you should resolve this case without risking 23 years on the first count, he found him guilty. 26. 26.
Right? I want to pause on this for a second. So the perversity of the moment can sink in. Judge Gall is angry at Rishan for refusing to plead guilty.
For risking huge prison time on an assault charge. For which he has just been acquitted. Not guilty. That's what's dysfunctional and destructive.
Refusing to plead. And that's what makes Rishan deserve prison. A month later, Emmanuel went to Rishan's sentencing. We were curious to see what he was going to get.
Because on Monday morning, Rishan was one of his first cases of the day. And already, Judge Gall was worked up. You get indicted and you don't even make your responsibility. You don't demonstrate any remorse.
You know you're going to go to prison on a probation violation because I told you that through your attorney. Right? He's not done. Rishan had been in probation at Judge Gall when this new case happened.
That's partly why it was pissed. Judge Gall was start listing arrest after arrest, charged after charge, dropped or not. That Rishan faced ever since he was a juvenile. Then he and Rishan was attorney, John Mazzannon, started really getting the facts of the current case.
John's exasperated and not pretend exasperated. You often see attorneys performing an argument, but you don't often see a real one. John is insisting that Rishan is trying to do the right thing to keep the people around him from getting shot. He's getting hurt with the judge.
This goes on and on. Rishan is facing five and a half years on the probation violation alone. Never mind the new charges he's just been convicted of, which could have another four and a half years. So, ten years total if the judge wants to stick it to him.
This fighting is not helping. Finally, right as Judge Gall says, so your sentence to Rishan interrupts. So your sentence to? I thought you did speak, you must speak further.
Ready? Rishan takes out a four page letter. I'm begins reading. Your honor, Judge Gall?
Your honor, Judge Gall? I know I was staying with you and trying to communicate in this whole time. I was lonely. I was lonely.
I was lonely being cremated. Later, back in his chambers, Judge Gall read parts of the letter aloud to me. I was being a criminal. My point of view has been clouded since I was first charged and 16 years old.
And I have been angry ever since. I have finally opened my eyes and saw and came to realize. I have been wrong for 15 years. It has humbled me.
This experience has helped save my life and awaken me. To my self-destructive illusions. You are an outstanding judge. I'm going to remind you of what you said that I could be your son.
And I'm not assuming that as favoritism. That comment really touched me and made me look at you different. I originally perceived you to be prejudiced and never expected you to show me your human personal decency. I recognized the wisdom and helped you and parted on me that I was wrong and you have been trying to reason with me to consider my choice to associate with the criminal lifestyle.
And it goes on and on and on. In the courtroom, Rishan read his letter for more than seven minutes. When he finished, Judge Gall was stunned. It's really tremendous that I've been doing this for 35 years and that's sort of like the criminal equivalent of the Gettysburg Address.
He said he wanted to get the letter laminated and read it from time to time because he found it inspiring. A visitor to the courtroom, such as myself, might consider Rishan's letter a brilliant strategic move, while also wondering whether Judge Gall had just been played. But Judge Gall believed the letter was genuine. He was moved.
He said to Rishan, it's not possible for anyone to fake what you just said. The letter was gratifying for Judge Gall. Of course it was. But I think it was also maybe vindicating for him because I'd been there to hear it.
I'd also been in the room a few weeks earlier when a defendant had called Judge Gall racist. Judge Gall knew I'd been squinting uncomfortably with her rangs and his stereotyping. And now he was proof. Gall's method worked.
Judge Gall was emotional about it afterwards. He mentioned a Bible story about the good thief who was redeemed. He choked up. So, there may be some redemption here.
He's certainly on it. And if he changes his attitude, he may amount to something. He may make it. Because of the letter, Rishan got his own sentence roughly in half.
Judge Gall was going to give him six and a half for seven years instead. He gave him three. And he told Rishan, come back in six months and apply for judicial release, once known as Shock Release, a way of cunning someone lose his learned his lesson after the shock of prison. So six months he said, file a motion.
Maybe I'll shock you out. Six months to the day, John Mazzanin, Rishan's attorney, did file a motion for shock release. Judge Gall held a hearing. Rishan and Mazzanin were there.
But it lacked the magic of the sentencing. Instead, Judge Gall trawled Rishan's criminal record all over again. So much prior involvement with the system. Cruelty to animals.
That jumps off the page. Anyone that would do that to an animal. Rishan pushed back. It wasn't me.
I was 14 years old and someone shot a cat on my porch with a BB gun and I didn't tell. What about the aggravated robbery in 2001? Well, that one, I didn't do it, but I was there, so I got caught. And then the crime at hand.
Judge Gall accused Rishan of knowing about the gun, of putting other people in danger. Rishan said, it wasn't like that. Judge Gall said, why are you minimizing? The Gettysburg Address wasn't echoing in anyone's ears.
Judge Gall denied Rishan's motion for judicial release. I'm denying your motion for shock probation at this time, he said, because you are not accepting responsibility and therefore you're not demonstrating any remorse. Try again in six months, he told him. See if your attitude has changed.
After it was all over, I talked to Rishan about how this whole thing went down. He told me he still hadn't made sense of it. Judge Gall had all the promise to shock him out if he did well in prison, and he had done well. Six months earlier, when he wrote the letter, he said it was partly sincere, partly political.
He knew he'd need to stroke Judge Gall's ego. He behaves like a king, he said. But at the hearing for shock release, he figured they were past the stage of flattery and theatrics. So he was taken aback when Judge Gall started in on the details of his case.
Rishan said he kept trying to talk to him, man to man. I respect you with the subject and I need to be professional and to be prepared to find out with everything. Automatically already knew like it doesn't matter what your anything. I want you guilty.
I kept trying to pail him like theirs with something, want me to tell you. But that's the honest of God. Rishan didn't feel as if Judge Gall were leading him down the road toward responsibility and redemption. He felt as if Judge Gall simply wanted submission.
For its own sake. Rishan said Judge Gall quote, struck me as nothing less than a raging slave master. I'm not scared of you, man. You know, a lot of times I kept telling him I don't agree with you.
I don't agree with what you're saying. He just didn't like that. So he wanted it his way or no way. And it was just like that.
It's not your way or no way. But it is Judge Gall's way or no way. That's the maddening corkscrew of Rishan's position. Judge Gall shouldn't require him to grovel.
Rishan's right about that. But there's nothing Rishan can do about it. Because Rishan is the one who broke the law. Everything Judge Gall's doing is legal.
If you're wondering, does Judge Gall ever get in trouble for the waking runs his room? Has he ever reigned in? Well, let me tell you about this one last case just quickly. It was back in 2015, so I wasn't there for it, but I do have a transcript.
A guy named Carlton Heard was indicted for shooting. He said he didn't do it. He wanted to go to trial. After being postponed a few times, Dave Trial finally comes.
And Carlton Heard's attorney asks for another continuance. Because he said Mr. Heard had just informed him a half hour ago that he's been covering up for the real shooter. So now they need more time to investigate.
Judge Gall does not take kindly to this motion to continue. He thinks this last minute, new evidence claim is bogus. He's sure they're just trying to delay. He does what he does, which is to excoriate Mr.
Heard for being black, among other things. Your black life didn't matter to you, did it. And your child's gonna grow up and I'm speculating now just like you did without a dad. Did you have a father?
No, says Carlton Heard. No, says Carlton Heard. No, of course not, says Judge Gall. But then even by Judge Gall's standards, Judge Gall veers out of bounds.
He says to Carlton Heard, you're either gonna go to trial right now or you're gonna plead guilty. Carlton Heard hadn't asked for a plea deal, and the state had not offered one. No matter. Judge Gall comes up with his own deal for Carlton Heard.
He says, if you plead no contest to the indictment right now, I'll sentence you to 14 years. Quote, if you take the case to trial and are convicted, you will do multiples of 14 years. Because if you're convicted of these charges, that's what you deserve. You deserve to spend what could be the rest of your life in the state penal institution, unquote.
What's it gonna be? Carlton Heard says, I'll go to trial. His mom blarts out. No, Carlton says to her, listen to what he just said.
14 years seemed like forever to Carlton. His little daughter would be 18 when he got out. But his mom was hearing the other numbers, multiples of 14, if he's convicted of trial. They confer for a bit off the record.
Then Judge Gall tells them at length about another case he had, in which he offered a couple of quote knuckleheads a deal they didn't take. I had the same conversation with them I'm having with you. They sat right there, right in that chair. I told him, I said, look, you can do 15 years, or if you're convicted of all this other stuff, you're gonna get consecutive time.
They both got sentenced to 78 years. Judge Gall asks again whether Carlton wants to plead. I didn't do it, says Carlton. Judge Gall says, look, you want to go to trial, go to trial.
You have a beautiful suit on, you can sit there and maybe the jury will think you're a great guy and you're not guilty. What do you want to do? There's a pause. Alright, let's bring the jury up.
Judge Gall says, the jury's on its way. If they walk into this room, my deal with you is off. I'll take it, says Carlton heard. That's Carlton.
When I asked him why he said yes to the plea, he told me his mother persuaded him they could fight it. But they could appeal, which they did. Because it was like what he was saying, like we just knew that's not nothing that a judge really could be saying. He ain't part of being saying and doing none of that.
The Court of Appeals agreed. I got the sense reading their decision that the justices were straining to contain their displeasure. A plea is supposed to be knowingly, intelligently, and voluntarily made. That's the standard.
The fact that Judge Gall participated in the plea, by itself that's not necessarily unconstitutional. But the way Judge Gall did it, concocting the plea on his own without even asking the prosecutor, the defense attorney. Then you add in the pressure, the threats, the way he made it obviously thought Carlton was guilty before even seeing a scrap of evidence. The only thing Carlton heard could have knowingly and intelligently concluded, the Court said, was that he was unlikely to get either a fair trial or a fair sentence after trial from Judge Gall.
Under those circumstances, they said the plea was not voluntary. It was coerced, unconstitutional. They vacated the plea and then took the extraordinary step of ordering that Carlton heard's case to be reassigned to a different judge. The first fullness of the Court of Appeals decision was remarkable.