The high-ranking police officer I call "Commander Tough Glove" sent me an email about my recent blog post about petty "slap on the wrist" sentences for drug dealing...
...saying it gave him a "good laugh" and it's "great when people discover for the first time how the justice system treats the people who hold it in contempt."
Tough Glove then adds the following.
Several years ago, one of the most notorious gang members of the late 1990s was a young man named Isaac Hodge. He was forever on the edge of major incidents (shootings, murders, etc.) but we were never able to get him charged, often due to the way gangs keep people from cooperating in our investigations.
The police were finally able to get him dirty with a quantity of crack cocaine and he was convicted of a FELONY. The judge gave him the usual extended sentence and probation, but to show how serious he was the judge ordered Hodge to take his mother to dinner and spend at least $40, and to bring the receipt to court to prove he had done so.
Justice!
2 comments:
Aren't cops on the Northside just the best? That's been my experience anyway. Take the time to get to know them and you learn the most interesting things.
I meant to say this on one of your other entries, but never got around to it, so I'll do it now. I know this so-called justice system sucks big time and at times it seems pointless to even bother with 911, but you must. At least take pleasure in the fact that by doing so you're making the dealers lives a bit less comfortable and a bit more miserable. If it happens enough, they move on to somewhere else - hopefully out to the 'burbs. I personally vote for Woodbury or Champlin, but that's just me. I know it's not solving the problem, but we work with what we have.
I can't tell you how many times I've chuckled with glee after the cops responded to one of my 911 calls, found the stash hidden in the bushes or found the little packets of weed hidden in some schmuck's pocket and crushed them in street with his boot. It's even funnier watching the schmuck trying to pick the pieces of weed out of the asphalt after the cops leave. We laugh a lot around here.
Yeah, when I said I was questioning the point of calling 911, I guess I meant...calling 911 used to be 10 times the fun, kind of like when you're a kid and you taste Kentucky fried chicken for the first time and it's really, really yummy. The very sight of the red and white bucket is like a Christmas present in the middle of summer.
But now, after learning how effective it is to call 911, in reality, it's kind of like...yeah, Kentucky fried chicken. Filling, adequate, somewhat tasty. But hardly worth jumping with glee.
I plan to be pulling more information out of that same City Attorney website, compiling it, and putting it on this blog. For example, I'm seeing that South Minneapolis is getting all the prostitution stings while we're just getting the prostitutes.
THAT ain't fair! That's like working at a hot grill all day long and never getting a taste of chicken.
Huh. I just figured out something. It's, like, sooooooo lunchtime and there's a Chinese buffet right across the street.
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