from the Oregonian
Salem attorney Bruce Mowery, who represents the city in some of the cases through City/County Insurance Services, said the claims --which target city officials, Sandy police officers and Clackamas County sheriff's deputies --have no merit.
All of the lawsuits accuse Sandy and Clackamas County officers of excessive force, harassment and violating defendants' constitutional rights. The suits are all separate claims, though three of the defendants share the same lawyer.
The latest case, filed March 12 in U.S. District Court in Oregon by Sandy resident Samuel Contreras, claims Contreras was set up by police and wrongfully arrested for possession of a controlled substance, having a concealed weapon and tampering with a witness. Contreras had previously been convicted for possession of firearms and charged on multiple occasions with drug possession, Sandy police said.
The other cases are:
* Estacada resident Britt Woodring alleges officers used excessive force in his arrest outside a Sandy restaurant last year.
* Juan Rubio, the father of a man whose remains were found in the woods in 2005, claims that Sandy officers were verbally abusive to him and that city officials neglected his complaints during the search for his son.
* Another Rubio lawsuit against a Sandy officer alleges Rubio was threatened during several incidents between 2004 and 2006.
* A federal lawsuit against Sandy and county officers claims the county, city and police officers violated the civil rights of Fouad Kaady, a Portland man killed after a string of hit-and-run collisions, a car fire and a possible assault. The family filed the suit. A Clackamas County grand jury last year cleared the officers of wrongdoing.
* A lawsuit filed by Sandy resident Jerry Eureal Woodford alleges Sandy police officers unrightfully tackled him and stunned him with a Taser while he was staying at a hotel.
The second Rubio suit is filed in circuit court; the others are filed in federal court.
Attorney Edward Merrill of Bend --who represents Rubio, Woodring and Contreras --said his clients filed the lawsuits not for monetary gain but to protest police department actions. Mowery, who represents Sandy on these cases, said the claims are orchestrated by the Bend attorney.
Friday, March 9, 2007
Sunday, January 7, 2007
Police as Brownshirts: The Torture & Execution of Fouad Kaady
from Educate-Yourself
Editor's Note: The use of Taser guns by police departments around this country must come to an end. They are invariably employed by a growing army of inhumane fascist cowards wearing police uniforms who invariably employ Tasers as tools of modern torture to force immediate "compliance" with whatever "orders" they bark out, regardless of how unreasonable or unjustified those 'orders' might be. Again, and again, and again, we hear reports of police behaving with an utter disregard for human suffering and a blatant contempt for the constitutional rights of their victims.
They behave as if the non-uniformed denizens of this country are rabid, wild animals, a separate breed from themselves, whom they can abuse and torture without concern or limit- just as long as they say "sir" in a loud voice while they are beating or tazing that citizen to death. That's the important thing you understand, saying "sir" out loud proves to everyone within hearing distance (especially, the Police Review Board) that you aware of the importance of that citizen's right to walk about in his own country unmolested and that you "respect" him as a citizen (if Kafka isn't spinning in his grave by now, he'll never do a turn).
Two such uniformed cretins responded to a call about an auto accident on September 6, 2005 in Clackamas County, Oregon, and within minutes of arriving at the scene, first abused, then inexplicably Taser tortured, and finally murdered a naked, unarmed 27 year old man who had recently emerged from a burning car wreck with burnt flesh hanging from his limbs and completely covered in blood. He had at no time done anything or said anything that was threatening or provoking to his executioners. What movement he did made was in REACTION to the unbelievable pain he must have been suffering from having two 50,000 volt Taser guns emptied into his burnt body, and his desire to GET AWAY from these two uniformed lunatics. But the two Brownshirts had no intention of letting him go anywhere and they also had no intention of touching his bloody body, so they shot him; not once, but seven times in the chest at point blank range. This murder was ruled to be a "justified response" by the Clackamas County Review Board for the two Nazi officers who were in "fear" that they might be killed by the naked, burnt, and unarmed 27 year old man who was trying to desperately to escape from them.
Fouad's execution took exactly 28 seconds. After shooting him, his executioners immediately called their dispatcher for medical assistance, They said in the video interview that that they concerned about getting Kaady medical "help" after his lifeless, bullet riddled body slide off the rear trunk of the police cruiser onto the warm pavement.
I've posted links below to the five part series on the killing of Fouad Kaady posted at YouTube by a person (or group) called "Portlandvftr"
I wonder if they also remembered to call Fouad "sir' while they were shooting him? ...Ken Adachi
Editor's Note: The use of Taser guns by police departments around this country must come to an end. They are invariably employed by a growing army of inhumane fascist cowards wearing police uniforms who invariably employ Tasers as tools of modern torture to force immediate "compliance" with whatever "orders" they bark out, regardless of how unreasonable or unjustified those 'orders' might be. Again, and again, and again, we hear reports of police behaving with an utter disregard for human suffering and a blatant contempt for the constitutional rights of their victims.
They behave as if the non-uniformed denizens of this country are rabid, wild animals, a separate breed from themselves, whom they can abuse and torture without concern or limit- just as long as they say "sir" in a loud voice while they are beating or tazing that citizen to death. That's the important thing you understand, saying "sir" out loud proves to everyone within hearing distance (especially, the Police Review Board) that you aware of the importance of that citizen's right to walk about in his own country unmolested and that you "respect" him as a citizen (if Kafka isn't spinning in his grave by now, he'll never do a turn).
Two such uniformed cretins responded to a call about an auto accident on September 6, 2005 in Clackamas County, Oregon, and within minutes of arriving at the scene, first abused, then inexplicably Taser tortured, and finally murdered a naked, unarmed 27 year old man who had recently emerged from a burning car wreck with burnt flesh hanging from his limbs and completely covered in blood. He had at no time done anything or said anything that was threatening or provoking to his executioners. What movement he did made was in REACTION to the unbelievable pain he must have been suffering from having two 50,000 volt Taser guns emptied into his burnt body, and his desire to GET AWAY from these two uniformed lunatics. But the two Brownshirts had no intention of letting him go anywhere and they also had no intention of touching his bloody body, so they shot him; not once, but seven times in the chest at point blank range. This murder was ruled to be a "justified response" by the Clackamas County Review Board for the two Nazi officers who were in "fear" that they might be killed by the naked, burnt, and unarmed 27 year old man who was trying to desperately to escape from them.
Fouad's execution took exactly 28 seconds. After shooting him, his executioners immediately called their dispatcher for medical assistance, They said in the video interview that that they concerned about getting Kaady medical "help" after his lifeless, bullet riddled body slide off the rear trunk of the police cruiser onto the warm pavement.
I've posted links below to the five part series on the killing of Fouad Kaady posted at YouTube by a person (or group) called "Portlandvftr"
I wonder if they also remembered to call Fouad "sir' while they were shooting him? ...Ken Adachi
Friday, January 5, 2007
Fouad Kaady’s 29th Birthday
author: Lew Nassa - published in Portland Indymedia
On Monday, Fouad would have been twenty nine years old, and presumably enjoying his new found career as a real estate salesman. He would still be the loving son, brother, friend, and human being that so many here have reported about.
On Monday, Fouad would have been twenty nine years old, and presumably enjoying his new found career as a real estate salesman. He would still be the loving son, brother, friend, and human being that so many here have reported about.
That did not happen. Instead, he was cruelly tortured and murdered by the fascist tools of the corporate state, Officer Bergin (Sandy Police) and Deputy Willard (Clackamas County Sheriff.
On September 6, 2005, Fouad was driving his parent's car, apparently carrying gasoline to his pickup truck, which had run out of gas. It was a hot day, and we think that he was clad only in shorts. At some point in this trip, something went dreadfully wrong. Initial reports indicate that Fouad was involved in a rear end collision with a car being driven by a Ms. Tiffany Stanko. From some witness' accounts, he may have already had a fire inside the vehicle, or it may have combusted when he struck Ms. Stanko's car. At any rate, he did not stop, as he may have been otherwise engaged (people who are on fire sometimes do strange things). Ms Stanko started the law enforcement gang rolling with her cell phone cries for help.
Meantime, Fouad was still careening down the rural highway, and struck a couple more cars, before running off the road and bailing out, tearing what little clothing remained from his body, while fleeing the flaming car, which was a total wreck.
Here, a "coincidental" thing happened: Ms Stanko's uncle, who was working on a survey crew nearby, chased Fouad into the woods with a baseball bat. According to him, he caught up to Fouad, and tried to grab him, but since Fouad's skin was burned and peeling, and he was bloody, he lost his grip as Fouad kicked out at him. Fouad fell to the ground at that point, then rose, and continued to run, through the woods, apparently hysterical with pain.
By this time, there are countless first responders in the area, including an ambulance, a couple of fire rigs, and multiple agency police. Enter our two heros: Willard, who a few moments ago was many miles away, finishing part of his lunch and trying to decide whether to have his power bar or his afternoon prayer, and Bergin, a rookie in Sandy, who was also headed for lunch when he heard the calls for aid. Upon arrival in the area, Willard removed his shotgun from his patrol unit, and took off like Rifleman, through the woods, presumably to bag an elk or something similar.
Unable to see the victim (Fouad IS the victim), he returned to the safety of the street, when Bergin came screaming up in his patrol car. About this time, a witness came by, saying that they saw a badly bleeding naked man, about a quarter mile up the road from where this assembly of first responders were congregated. Of course, Willard leaped into Bergin's car, and they screamed off like Batman and Robin, in hopes of being first to "bag" this helpless victim.
When they arrived, according to both officers, Fouad was "seated, Indian style (cross legged), naked, bleeding, with skin hanging from his body, rocking back and forth, in a catatonic state, and moaning." Seeing that Fouad was unarmed, and obviously injured, Willard said and did the only intelligent thing that he did in the entire encounter, he "transitioned to less lethal force (taser), and put down his shotgun. Of course, he had another brain lapse at this point (shoulda had the power bar), he tossed the loaded shotgun onto the hood of Bergin's car, and both officers draw their electric torture tools, and advance upon the victim (catatonic, seated, naked, bleeding, injured, etc.), yelling in typical "Cops" style (can't you just hear them?) for him to prone himself on the hot pavement. When he did not comply with these ridiculous demands, Bergin began tasering him, and continued until his toy ran out of electricity. Then, because the victim was writhing in pain, and they had no idea what to do with him (obviously, the idea of first aid never occurred to them), Willard similarly discharged his taser until empty.
Fouad, when added pain of the tasers ceased to torture him momentarily, did the only thing anyone would do in such a state, he fled the pain givers, and climbed to the highest refuge that he could find, the top of the patrol cars.
The protectors of the public peace had by this time decided (according to their statements) that there was no way that they could allow Fouad to leave, and yet, that there was also no way that they would allow him to touch them (all that icky blood and skin and stuff), so they had no choice. They shot him seven times, and at some point in this homicidal action, Fouad's young life was terminated.
Because of these fine individual's insensitivity to the agony that the victim was suffering, and their unwarranted fear of blood (first responders?), Fouad's family and friends must now SUFFER through his birthday, rather than celebrate it.
Please take a moment to share their pain, and to consider what has brought us to the state we are now in, where such egregious actions were not even condemned by a grand jury, led by the District Attorney, mentioned above. How will you be treated, if ever you are injured, bleeding, and burned?
A quick search of Indy, using Fouad's name will bring up past entries, for those who have just joined us.
On Monday, Fouad would have been twenty nine years old, and presumably enjoying his new found career as a real estate salesman. He would still be the loving son, brother, friend, and human being that so many here have reported about.
On Monday, Fouad would have been twenty nine years old, and presumably enjoying his new found career as a real estate salesman. He would still be the loving son, brother, friend, and human being that so many here have reported about.
That did not happen. Instead, he was cruelly tortured and murdered by the fascist tools of the corporate state, Officer Bergin (Sandy Police) and Deputy Willard (Clackamas County Sheriff.
On September 6, 2005, Fouad was driving his parent's car, apparently carrying gasoline to his pickup truck, which had run out of gas. It was a hot day, and we think that he was clad only in shorts. At some point in this trip, something went dreadfully wrong. Initial reports indicate that Fouad was involved in a rear end collision with a car being driven by a Ms. Tiffany Stanko. From some witness' accounts, he may have already had a fire inside the vehicle, or it may have combusted when he struck Ms. Stanko's car. At any rate, he did not stop, as he may have been otherwise engaged (people who are on fire sometimes do strange things). Ms Stanko started the law enforcement gang rolling with her cell phone cries for help.
Meantime, Fouad was still careening down the rural highway, and struck a couple more cars, before running off the road and bailing out, tearing what little clothing remained from his body, while fleeing the flaming car, which was a total wreck.
Here, a "coincidental" thing happened: Ms Stanko's uncle, who was working on a survey crew nearby, chased Fouad into the woods with a baseball bat. According to him, he caught up to Fouad, and tried to grab him, but since Fouad's skin was burned and peeling, and he was bloody, he lost his grip as Fouad kicked out at him. Fouad fell to the ground at that point, then rose, and continued to run, through the woods, apparently hysterical with pain.
By this time, there are countless first responders in the area, including an ambulance, a couple of fire rigs, and multiple agency police. Enter our two heros: Willard, who a few moments ago was many miles away, finishing part of his lunch and trying to decide whether to have his power bar or his afternoon prayer, and Bergin, a rookie in Sandy, who was also headed for lunch when he heard the calls for aid. Upon arrival in the area, Willard removed his shotgun from his patrol unit, and took off like Rifleman, through the woods, presumably to bag an elk or something similar.
Unable to see the victim (Fouad IS the victim), he returned to the safety of the street, when Bergin came screaming up in his patrol car. About this time, a witness came by, saying that they saw a badly bleeding naked man, about a quarter mile up the road from where this assembly of first responders were congregated. Of course, Willard leaped into Bergin's car, and they screamed off like Batman and Robin, in hopes of being first to "bag" this helpless victim.
When they arrived, according to both officers, Fouad was "seated, Indian style (cross legged), naked, bleeding, with skin hanging from his body, rocking back and forth, in a catatonic state, and moaning." Seeing that Fouad was unarmed, and obviously injured, Willard said and did the only intelligent thing that he did in the entire encounter, he "transitioned to less lethal force (taser), and put down his shotgun. Of course, he had another brain lapse at this point (shoulda had the power bar), he tossed the loaded shotgun onto the hood of Bergin's car, and both officers draw their electric torture tools, and advance upon the victim (catatonic, seated, naked, bleeding, injured, etc.), yelling in typical "Cops" style (can't you just hear them?) for him to prone himself on the hot pavement. When he did not comply with these ridiculous demands, Bergin began tasering him, and continued until his toy ran out of electricity. Then, because the victim was writhing in pain, and they had no idea what to do with him (obviously, the idea of first aid never occurred to them), Willard similarly discharged his taser until empty.
Fouad, when added pain of the tasers ceased to torture him momentarily, did the only thing anyone would do in such a state, he fled the pain givers, and climbed to the highest refuge that he could find, the top of the patrol cars.
The protectors of the public peace had by this time decided (according to their statements) that there was no way that they could allow Fouad to leave, and yet, that there was also no way that they would allow him to touch them (all that icky blood and skin and stuff), so they had no choice. They shot him seven times, and at some point in this homicidal action, Fouad's young life was terminated.
Because of these fine individual's insensitivity to the agony that the victim was suffering, and their unwarranted fear of blood (first responders?), Fouad's family and friends must now SUFFER through his birthday, rather than celebrate it.
Please take a moment to share their pain, and to consider what has brought us to the state we are now in, where such egregious actions were not even condemned by a grand jury, led by the District Attorney, mentioned above. How will you be treated, if ever you are injured, bleeding, and burned?
A quick search of Indy, using Fouad's name will bring up past entries, for those who have just joined us.
Thursday, November 9, 2006
LETTERS TO THE EDITOR Inquest wouldn't help
from the Oregonian
The Oregonian has called for a public inquest into the death of Fouad Kaady (editorial, Nov. 1). A grand jury has already listened carefully to the sworn testimony of 40 witnesses and visited the scene of the shooting. In addition, Clackamas County Sheriff Craig Roberts released the police reports after the grand jury's decision.
I do not believe a public inquest would further the important discussion that is ongoing about officer-involved shootings. Under Oregon statutes, a public inquest may be ordered to determine the "cause and manner of death." In this case, those are well known. Furthermore, a public inquest is a flawed legal process. The statutes do not clearly state whether the rules of evidence apply or who may participate. An inquest can turn into a forum to air grievances or personal opinions.
In the last legislative session, Senate Bill 301 would have required that grand jury proceedings in officer-involved shooting deaths be transcribed and made public. Unfortunately, it didn't pass. It would have provided a better way to inform the public. I encourage our legislators to approve it in the next session.
JOHN S. FOOTE
District Attorney
Clackamas County
The Oregonian has called for a public inquest into the death of Fouad Kaady (editorial, Nov. 1). A grand jury has already listened carefully to the sworn testimony of 40 witnesses and visited the scene of the shooting. In addition, Clackamas County Sheriff Craig Roberts released the police reports after the grand jury's decision.
I do not believe a public inquest would further the important discussion that is ongoing about officer-involved shootings. Under Oregon statutes, a public inquest may be ordered to determine the "cause and manner of death." In this case, those are well known. Furthermore, a public inquest is a flawed legal process. The statutes do not clearly state whether the rules of evidence apply or who may participate. An inquest can turn into a forum to air grievances or personal opinions.
In the last legislative session, Senate Bill 301 would have required that grand jury proceedings in officer-involved shooting deaths be transcribed and made public. Unfortunately, it didn't pass. It would have provided a better way to inform the public. I encourage our legislators to approve it in the next session.
JOHN S. FOOTE
District Attorney
Clackamas County
Defusing crises dispelling myths
from the Oregonian
Two years ago deputies responding to a call of a resident disturbing the peace shot and killed the woman after she charged them with a knife. The residents, a Clackamas County mental health worker has advised the deputies, are still a little on edge.
The visit is part of the sheriff's office's third semiannual training devoted to teaching officers how to better handle encounters involving people who are mentally ill, who often don't respond well to traditional police commands and techniques and who might act unpredictably at times of crisis.
The sessions begins.
A woman with ice-blue eyes and bangs pinned back with a sparkly clip asks the deputies why they have to carry guns. Guns, she says, petrify her. She's seen what police do with them on TV.
The police officers assure her they use their guns only in true emergencies --not like the actors on TV.
Another resident wants to know whether police stereotype mentally ill people.
"Do you automatically put us in a box?" she asks.
"Do you think mentally ill people have hotter tempers than other people?" asks another.
And another resident chimes in: "Don't you have a code --1151 or something --to refer to us?"
"It's 1234," answers one of the deputies, adding that the categorization is only used so police can better help the person in mental crisis. "The police officer will hear that and start asking questions: 'How are you doing?' 'What do you need?' "
By the end of the exchange, the room appears to have warmed some. The residents appear a little more relaxed, and the police officers, too.
The training --known as Crisis Intervention Training --was held late last month. It is the third since Clackamas County Sheriff Craig Roberts took office in January 2005 and said his office must better equip deputies to deal with the increasing number of calls about people in mental crisis.
Roberts said he recognized the need a few years ago as a detective when he responded to the call near Oregon 212 in the Boring area. Roberts showed up to find a suicidal man who'd doused himself with two cans of gasoline and was holding a cigarette lighter.
"I thought 'This is absurd,' " said Roberts, realizing he didn't have training to draw upon. Roberts was able to talk the man into surrendering but felt he was grasping for what to say or do.
Jail data show that as many as 28 percent of Clackamas County Jail inmates have a diagnosed mental illness. But officials say the true percentage of inmates who have mental illnesses --diagnosed or not --is probably much higher.
Sgt. Nick Watt, who helped developed the crisis intervention course, estimates that 50 percent of the calls he responds to involve someone with mental health issues a suicidal person, a car thief on mind-altering methamphetamine, or a combative person yelling at anyone who passes by.
The dangers of police encounters with mentally ill people have been highlighted recently by high-profile incidents in the Portland area, including the September death in police custody of James P. Chasse Jr., a man police thought was on drugs or drunk but who actually suffered from schizophrenia.
In Clackamas County, there have been several incidents in which police shot and killed people acting irrationally or exhibiting mental problems --including Clint Carey, a 24-year-old Carver man who in 2005 duct-taped a knife to his hand and then charged at deputies; Fouad Kaady, a 27-year-old Gresham man who was reportedly growling, naked and non-compliant to police commands in 2005; and Joyce Staudenmaier, the Chez Ami resident shot in 2004, who had battled schizophrenia for nearly three decades.
Clackamas County's 40-hour class teaches participants about the gamut of mental illnesses and the drugs used to treat them. Participants hear mental health experts' advice on how police should approach and speak to people with mental disorders. They also act out scenarios they might encounter in the field.
Portland, and in more recent years, Washington and Marion counties, also have crisis intervention training. Portland Mayor Tom Potter recently said he wants every patrol officer on the Portland Police force to go through the city's 40-hour course, which during the past 12 years has been voluntary.
And starting in January, the state's police academy will increase classroom instruction on how to interact with mentally ill people from three hours to 12. Students seeking a basic police officer certification also will undergo eight to 10 hours of scenario-based training.
In Clackamas County, 75 members of law enforcement --including about three dozen sheriff's deputies and three dozen officers from police departments including Lake Oswego, Oregon City, Canby and Sandy --have been through the sheriff's training. Roberts said his goal is to train all 91 of his patrol deputies in the next few years. So far, he's about a third of the way there.
Sharing experiences
After a few days of intensive classroom training, the Clackamas County class breaks into small groups to tour apartments and group homes of people with mental illnesses; Portland Adventist's psychiatric ward, where police often bring people who are threatening to harm themselves or others; and the Hooper detox center in Portland, where police drop off people intoxicated by drugs or alcohol.
The visits give officers opportunities to interact with people with mental illnesses and those who treat them.
A Milwaukie group home manager tells visiting officers that it's a good idea to turn off overhead lights and sirens when responding to incidents at her group home. Lights and sirens can stir bad memories.
A woman who suffers from depression tells officers that she doesn't like handcuffs because they make her feel like a criminal. And a man tells officers that a little bit of leeway goes a long way with him --he still remembers the officer who let him keep his chewing tobacco in his mouth as he was driving to jail.
At the Chez Ami Apartments, resident Susan Funk tells the deputies that she's happy to talk to them about her police encounters because she wants them to see what she's like 80 percent of the year.
"You only know me when I'm freaking out, and that's why I come to these (trainings)," says Funk, 40, who was diagnosed 17 years ago with bipolar disorder.
Funk is clear-headed, witty and pointed in her conversation with deputies. She says if they happen to encounter her on a bad day, they should try to treat her with respect. She doesn't respond well to harsh commands or force.
"Try to be nice to me if you can," she said. "Try not to corner me. Because that would make me feel like I want to fight and struggle."
Funk also shares her take on the small number of police encounters that go bad.
"It's not only a failure of police," Funk says. "It's also a failure of family, the community and the mental health staff who have not been able to intervene."
Not just a police issue
Funk's statements about mental health officials, family and friends stepping in before a person with mental illness reaches a state of crisis ring true with Watt, who helped develop the class. Watt, the Clackamas sergeant who helped develop the program, says that clearly many people who need help aren't getting or seeking the help --and police are the ones called at the last minute when mentally ill people act out in troubling ways.
Officers can't force a mentally ill person to seek treatment unless that person is presenting a safety threat. In those cases, police try to find a hospital placement, but Watt says too often beds at Portland-area hospitals are full. Once, Watt says, the only bed he could find for an emotionally disturbed person was in Roseburg, 175 miles south.
What's more, admittance to a hospital for psychiatric help might only be a short-term fix, because psychiatric staff release the person once the immediate threat has passed. Too often, mental health experts say, people refuse additional treatment.
Police and mental health officials attribute the rise in mental health-related calls to a fundamental change in philosophy about how to treat people. People with severe mental illnesses used to be institutionalized, said Jessica Leitner, program manager for the county's behavioral health division.
But closing Dammasch State Hospital in the mid-1990s signaled a change in that philosophy in Oregon: Mental health experts came to believe that people with mental health issues were best placed in smaller community treatment facilities, group homes or their own homes.
Having more people with mental health issues living in the community, however, makes contacts with local police more likely.
Eric Cederholm, who has been diagnosed with chronic depression and post-traumatic stress disorder, was eager to talk to crisis-intervention class participants during their visit to his Milwaukie group home. He wants to offer them support.
While training is good, he said, he wants them to know that they won't always be able to talk a mentally ill person through a crisis.
Cederholm said he was determined to die in June 2005 when he pointed a gun at a Milwaukie Police officer, and the officer shot him in the arm, narrowly missing his chest. He still has the scar.
"I was hell-bent," Cederholm tells the class participants. "Some poor (guy) had to shoot me. I'm sure it ruined his day."
Two years ago deputies responding to a call of a resident disturbing the peace shot and killed the woman after she charged them with a knife. The residents, a Clackamas County mental health worker has advised the deputies, are still a little on edge.
The visit is part of the sheriff's office's third semiannual training devoted to teaching officers how to better handle encounters involving people who are mentally ill, who often don't respond well to traditional police commands and techniques and who might act unpredictably at times of crisis.
The sessions begins.
A woman with ice-blue eyes and bangs pinned back with a sparkly clip asks the deputies why they have to carry guns. Guns, she says, petrify her. She's seen what police do with them on TV.
The police officers assure her they use their guns only in true emergencies --not like the actors on TV.
Another resident wants to know whether police stereotype mentally ill people.
"Do you automatically put us in a box?" she asks.
"Do you think mentally ill people have hotter tempers than other people?" asks another.
And another resident chimes in: "Don't you have a code --1151 or something --to refer to us?"
"It's 1234," answers one of the deputies, adding that the categorization is only used so police can better help the person in mental crisis. "The police officer will hear that and start asking questions: 'How are you doing?' 'What do you need?' "
By the end of the exchange, the room appears to have warmed some. The residents appear a little more relaxed, and the police officers, too.
The training --known as Crisis Intervention Training --was held late last month. It is the third since Clackamas County Sheriff Craig Roberts took office in January 2005 and said his office must better equip deputies to deal with the increasing number of calls about people in mental crisis.
Roberts said he recognized the need a few years ago as a detective when he responded to the call near Oregon 212 in the Boring area. Roberts showed up to find a suicidal man who'd doused himself with two cans of gasoline and was holding a cigarette lighter.
"I thought 'This is absurd,' " said Roberts, realizing he didn't have training to draw upon. Roberts was able to talk the man into surrendering but felt he was grasping for what to say or do.
Jail data show that as many as 28 percent of Clackamas County Jail inmates have a diagnosed mental illness. But officials say the true percentage of inmates who have mental illnesses --diagnosed or not --is probably much higher.
Sgt. Nick Watt, who helped developed the crisis intervention course, estimates that 50 percent of the calls he responds to involve someone with mental health issues a suicidal person, a car thief on mind-altering methamphetamine, or a combative person yelling at anyone who passes by.
The dangers of police encounters with mentally ill people have been highlighted recently by high-profile incidents in the Portland area, including the September death in police custody of James P. Chasse Jr., a man police thought was on drugs or drunk but who actually suffered from schizophrenia.
In Clackamas County, there have been several incidents in which police shot and killed people acting irrationally or exhibiting mental problems --including Clint Carey, a 24-year-old Carver man who in 2005 duct-taped a knife to his hand and then charged at deputies; Fouad Kaady, a 27-year-old Gresham man who was reportedly growling, naked and non-compliant to police commands in 2005; and Joyce Staudenmaier, the Chez Ami resident shot in 2004, who had battled schizophrenia for nearly three decades.
Clackamas County's 40-hour class teaches participants about the gamut of mental illnesses and the drugs used to treat them. Participants hear mental health experts' advice on how police should approach and speak to people with mental disorders. They also act out scenarios they might encounter in the field.
Portland, and in more recent years, Washington and Marion counties, also have crisis intervention training. Portland Mayor Tom Potter recently said he wants every patrol officer on the Portland Police force to go through the city's 40-hour course, which during the past 12 years has been voluntary.
And starting in January, the state's police academy will increase classroom instruction on how to interact with mentally ill people from three hours to 12. Students seeking a basic police officer certification also will undergo eight to 10 hours of scenario-based training.
In Clackamas County, 75 members of law enforcement --including about three dozen sheriff's deputies and three dozen officers from police departments including Lake Oswego, Oregon City, Canby and Sandy --have been through the sheriff's training. Roberts said his goal is to train all 91 of his patrol deputies in the next few years. So far, he's about a third of the way there.
Sharing experiences
After a few days of intensive classroom training, the Clackamas County class breaks into small groups to tour apartments and group homes of people with mental illnesses; Portland Adventist's psychiatric ward, where police often bring people who are threatening to harm themselves or others; and the Hooper detox center in Portland, where police drop off people intoxicated by drugs or alcohol.
The visits give officers opportunities to interact with people with mental illnesses and those who treat them.
A Milwaukie group home manager tells visiting officers that it's a good idea to turn off overhead lights and sirens when responding to incidents at her group home. Lights and sirens can stir bad memories.
A woman who suffers from depression tells officers that she doesn't like handcuffs because they make her feel like a criminal. And a man tells officers that a little bit of leeway goes a long way with him --he still remembers the officer who let him keep his chewing tobacco in his mouth as he was driving to jail.
At the Chez Ami Apartments, resident Susan Funk tells the deputies that she's happy to talk to them about her police encounters because she wants them to see what she's like 80 percent of the year.
"You only know me when I'm freaking out, and that's why I come to these (trainings)," says Funk, 40, who was diagnosed 17 years ago with bipolar disorder.
Funk is clear-headed, witty and pointed in her conversation with deputies. She says if they happen to encounter her on a bad day, they should try to treat her with respect. She doesn't respond well to harsh commands or force.
"Try to be nice to me if you can," she said. "Try not to corner me. Because that would make me feel like I want to fight and struggle."
Funk also shares her take on the small number of police encounters that go bad.
"It's not only a failure of police," Funk says. "It's also a failure of family, the community and the mental health staff who have not been able to intervene."
Not just a police issue
Funk's statements about mental health officials, family and friends stepping in before a person with mental illness reaches a state of crisis ring true with Watt, who helped develop the class. Watt, the Clackamas sergeant who helped develop the program, says that clearly many people who need help aren't getting or seeking the help --and police are the ones called at the last minute when mentally ill people act out in troubling ways.
Officers can't force a mentally ill person to seek treatment unless that person is presenting a safety threat. In those cases, police try to find a hospital placement, but Watt says too often beds at Portland-area hospitals are full. Once, Watt says, the only bed he could find for an emotionally disturbed person was in Roseburg, 175 miles south.
What's more, admittance to a hospital for psychiatric help might only be a short-term fix, because psychiatric staff release the person once the immediate threat has passed. Too often, mental health experts say, people refuse additional treatment.
Police and mental health officials attribute the rise in mental health-related calls to a fundamental change in philosophy about how to treat people. People with severe mental illnesses used to be institutionalized, said Jessica Leitner, program manager for the county's behavioral health division.
But closing Dammasch State Hospital in the mid-1990s signaled a change in that philosophy in Oregon: Mental health experts came to believe that people with mental health issues were best placed in smaller community treatment facilities, group homes or their own homes.
Having more people with mental health issues living in the community, however, makes contacts with local police more likely.
Eric Cederholm, who has been diagnosed with chronic depression and post-traumatic stress disorder, was eager to talk to crisis-intervention class participants during their visit to his Milwaukie group home. He wants to offer them support.
While training is good, he said, he wants them to know that they won't always be able to talk a mentally ill person through a crisis.
Cederholm said he was determined to die in June 2005 when he pointed a gun at a Milwaukie Police officer, and the officer shot him in the arm, narrowly missing his chest. He still has the scar.
"I was hell-bent," Cederholm tells the class participants. "Some poor (guy) had to shoot me. I'm sure it ruined his day."
Thursday, October 26, 2006
Portland Residents Protest Police Killings
from BreakTheChains.info
Around fifty people gathered at the North Park Blocks in
downtown Portland today to protest police brutality and the recent
death of James Chasse who died in police custody. The event was held
in conjunction with similar events around the country to highlight
police abuses, but was organized autonomously of the national
coalition. Most participants dressed in black to show support for the
families of people killed by police.
People started banging on plastic bucket drums and a parade formed
behind the banner "Cops and Klan go hand in hand." People paraded
through downtown streets chanting against police abuse and the system
that fosters it. Portland police remained mostly out of sight except
for a few plainclothes officers videotaping the crowd.
The parade ended in Pioneer Square where people unrelated to protest
held signs reading "free hugs." Many people accepted the free hugs.
People soon gathered again to talk about police abuse and why they
were there. The names of people killed by the police in the Portland
area were announced over the megaphone. One man spoke in detail about
how his cousin Fouad Kaady was murdered by police. These speeches
attracted more people from the square who were curious what was going
on.
The event ended without incident. Some participants expressed the
need to do more outreach and education to get more people involved in
the future. Others expressed the continued importance of people
standing in solidarity with the families and friends of people
victimized by the police.
Around fifty people gathered at the North Park Blocks in
downtown Portland today to protest police brutality and the recent
death of James Chasse who died in police custody. The event was held
in conjunction with similar events around the country to highlight
police abuses, but was organized autonomously of the national
coalition. Most participants dressed in black to show support for the
families of people killed by police.
People started banging on plastic bucket drums and a parade formed
behind the banner "Cops and Klan go hand in hand." People paraded
through downtown streets chanting against police abuse and the system
that fosters it. Portland police remained mostly out of sight except
for a few plainclothes officers videotaping the crowd.
The parade ended in Pioneer Square where people unrelated to protest
held signs reading "free hugs." Many people accepted the free hugs.
People soon gathered again to talk about police abuse and why they
were there. The names of people killed by the police in the Portland
area were announced over the megaphone. One man spoke in detail about
how his cousin Fouad Kaady was murdered by police. These speeches
attracted more people from the square who were curious what was going
on.
The event ended without incident. Some participants expressed the
need to do more outreach and education to get more people involved in
the future. Others expressed the continued importance of people
standing in solidarity with the families and friends of people
victimized by the police.
Monday, October 9, 2006
Local police fire back on shooting rules
from the Oregonian
Last week I wrote about a former policeman who questioned whether police these days are trained to worry too much about their own welfare.
Several local policemen responded that officers are not paid to get hurt or die. Wrote one: "Bottom line, when people arm themselves with knives or other weapons, and refuse to follow commands given to them by officers, they are likely to be shot before they can take action to harm or kill an officer. That is how it should be."
Jeff Leighty, a 20-year veteran and president of the Oregon State Police Officers' Association, e-mailed that in response to my column he'd canceled his subscription to The Oregonian.
By that logic, we should all vote against police levies simply because we disagree with something cops have done.
The truth is, both sides of the debate about shootings involving officers seem frozen in their own beliefs.
When I wrote, last year, that I understood the difficult spot cops found themselves in during the odd string of events that led to the tragic fatal police shooting of 27-year-old Fouad Kaady in Sandy, I got many angry responses about my blind allegiance to police.
One of the people who disagreed with me about that shooting was Ray O'Driscoll, the former San Francisco Bay Area policeman I wrote about last week.
Many current and former police officers were upset I allowed O'Driscoll, whose 12 years of police work came 30 years ago, to question current police training.
Of course, it makes no difference whether O'Driscoll was ever a cop. His questions are reasonable questions long debated by deadly force experts.
One of the nation's most prominent researchers in police training and accountability, James Fyfe, was serving as deputy commissioner for training of the New York Police Department when he died last year. Earlier in his career, Fyfe put in 16 years of patrol work that earned him seven NYPD citations.
In between his two stints at the NYPD, Fyfe was a professor of criminal justice at three colleges and wrote seven books about police work.
Fyfe was a perpetual critic of police training, saying it over-emphasizes the dangers of police work, which he found to be far safer than everything from bartending to construction. And he found that police guidelines are rarely specific enough about when to use deadly force or what the repercussions will be for misusing it. As a result, Fyfe said police often perceive danger where there is none and fire away.
Fyfe's studies concluded that there is little relationship between the number of people police shoot and how safe the police, or the public, are.
Fyfe believed the way to create more useful police standards is for communities to be outspoken about what they want and what they will not tolerate.
If communities don't force cops to include citizens in the discussion, nothing is likely to change, Fyfe said.
Of the dozens of responses I got from cops last week, only retired Portland policeman Jim Powell seemed interested in discussing the issue.
A 26-year veteran, he was a firearms and defensive tactics instructor and served as one of eight regional training coordinators in Oregon.
He didn't like my column. But after his anger cooled, he wanted to talk.
Powell, like Fyfe, believes police training can always improve. But he believes local police are carefully trained to consider all their other options before they pull the trigger.
He's never favored any type of citizen review committee to look at shootings involving officers. Still, he agrees that police policies must mirror what the community wants.
But public input, he says, "needs to occur on the front end," not during the public outcry after police shoot and kill.
I don't agree with everything Powell said. He doesn't agree with everything I said. But we've agreed to continue the conversation.
It may not lead anywhere at all.
But it beats dropping a subscription or refusing to pay for police.
Last week I wrote about a former policeman who questioned whether police these days are trained to worry too much about their own welfare.
Several local policemen responded that officers are not paid to get hurt or die. Wrote one: "Bottom line, when people arm themselves with knives or other weapons, and refuse to follow commands given to them by officers, they are likely to be shot before they can take action to harm or kill an officer. That is how it should be."
Jeff Leighty, a 20-year veteran and president of the Oregon State Police Officers' Association, e-mailed that in response to my column he'd canceled his subscription to The Oregonian.
By that logic, we should all vote against police levies simply because we disagree with something cops have done.
The truth is, both sides of the debate about shootings involving officers seem frozen in their own beliefs.
When I wrote, last year, that I understood the difficult spot cops found themselves in during the odd string of events that led to the tragic fatal police shooting of 27-year-old Fouad Kaady in Sandy, I got many angry responses about my blind allegiance to police.
One of the people who disagreed with me about that shooting was Ray O'Driscoll, the former San Francisco Bay Area policeman I wrote about last week.
Many current and former police officers were upset I allowed O'Driscoll, whose 12 years of police work came 30 years ago, to question current police training.
Of course, it makes no difference whether O'Driscoll was ever a cop. His questions are reasonable questions long debated by deadly force experts.
One of the nation's most prominent researchers in police training and accountability, James Fyfe, was serving as deputy commissioner for training of the New York Police Department when he died last year. Earlier in his career, Fyfe put in 16 years of patrol work that earned him seven NYPD citations.
In between his two stints at the NYPD, Fyfe was a professor of criminal justice at three colleges and wrote seven books about police work.
Fyfe was a perpetual critic of police training, saying it over-emphasizes the dangers of police work, which he found to be far safer than everything from bartending to construction. And he found that police guidelines are rarely specific enough about when to use deadly force or what the repercussions will be for misusing it. As a result, Fyfe said police often perceive danger where there is none and fire away.
Fyfe's studies concluded that there is little relationship between the number of people police shoot and how safe the police, or the public, are.
Fyfe believed the way to create more useful police standards is for communities to be outspoken about what they want and what they will not tolerate.
If communities don't force cops to include citizens in the discussion, nothing is likely to change, Fyfe said.
Of the dozens of responses I got from cops last week, only retired Portland policeman Jim Powell seemed interested in discussing the issue.
A 26-year veteran, he was a firearms and defensive tactics instructor and served as one of eight regional training coordinators in Oregon.
He didn't like my column. But after his anger cooled, he wanted to talk.
Powell, like Fyfe, believes police training can always improve. But he believes local police are carefully trained to consider all their other options before they pull the trigger.
He's never favored any type of citizen review committee to look at shootings involving officers. Still, he agrees that police policies must mirror what the community wants.
But public input, he says, "needs to occur on the front end," not during the public outcry after police shoot and kill.
I don't agree with everything Powell said. He doesn't agree with everything I said. But we've agreed to continue the conversation.
It may not lead anywhere at all.
But it beats dropping a subscription or refusing to pay for police.
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