Gainesville’s war on drugs It’s fought in the hood – not on campus

GAINESVILLE — On a Saturday night near the University of Florida campus, throngs of college students roam noisy streets lit by bars and restaurants.

They cram popular hangouts like The Social at Midtown.

They party outside the Alpha Tau Omega fraternity house.

They dance in an empty parking lot, animated by hip-hop from a white Honda Civic, its doors flung open and fuzzy dice hanging on the rearview mirror.

Gainesville nightlife. HERALD-TRIBUNE STAFF PHOTO / EMILY LE COZ

Meanwhile, in the predominantly black neighborhood just east of the university, darkened streets obscure quiet homes illuminated from within by the flicker of televisions.

Lone bicyclists slice through the neighborhoods, outnumbering vehicle traffic at a rate of two to one.

Even the main thoroughfares lack signs of life beyond the few gas stations and liquor marts.

No loud parties. No blatant intoxication. No horde of wild youth.

But while studies show college-aged adults in both communities use drugs at identical rates, it’s here in east Gainesville where police make the majority of drug busts.

“The students can get away with just about anything they want,” said University of Florida history professor Paul Ortiz. “There is a different style of policing in east Gainesville versus west Gainesville versus the University of Florida.”

University of Florida History Professor Paul Ortiz. HERALD-TRIBUNE STAFF VIDEO / DAN WAGNER

College-aged blacks off campus are nine times more likely to be arrested for drugs than their white peers at UF, according to a Herald-Tribune per capita analysis of arrest records maintained by the state. They are four times more likely to be arrested than black UF students.

That’s despite a university that consistently earns a spot on Princeton Review’s list of top party schools nationwide — in part because of campus drug use.

Once in court, blacks from the ages of 18 to 30 face more obstacles at every step.

Because they’re arrested more often, those with darker skin often have longer rap sheets, leading to fewer opportunities for pretrial drug programs and, ultimately, longer sentences than their white peers.

For hard drugs like cocaine, whites and blacks arrested by campus police don’t spend any time behind bars, while college-age blacks busted by city police average 236 days and whites average 76 days.

“It’s the white folks' system,” said Larry Byrd, a retired black Alachua County correctional officer who lives in east Gainesville. “The system is made for white folks by white folks.”

Former Alachua County correctional officer Larry Byrd at his home in east Gainesville. HERALD-TRIBUNE STAFF PHOTO / DAN WAGNER

The Herald-Tribune reviewed hundreds of thousands of drug cases compiled by court clerks and the Florida Department of Corrections to compare the racial discrepancies in Alachua County with other Florida counties. Reporters also examined more than 8,000 drug arrests among defendants ages 30 and younger in the Gainesville area since 2004, reviewed nearly 600 misdemeanor marijuana arrests by city and university police in 2014 and interviewed more than a dozen people involved in Alachua County's criminal justice system.

The analysis showed:

• Law enforcement in Alachua County takes the war on drugs to the black communities, targeting those with darker skin for petty infractions that ultimately spur a drug search. Three-quarters of those arrested for misdemeanor pot by the Gainesville Police Department in 2014 and 2015 were black. The stop-and-search tactics produce at least one arrest every day — a constant pressure that has left the black neighborhood feeling persecuted and fatigued.

• At the university, police are less aggressive in their search for drugs, relying instead on complaints. Even then, few minor drug busts end in arrest and even fewer in conviction. Unlike residents in the black neighborhood, students feel police are there to protect them.

• The arrest disparities prompt judges in Alachua County to sentence black defendants to more time behind bars. By the time they’re in court, most black drug offenders have longer records and therefore get fewer second chances.

• The courts in Alachua County are more lenient toward college students. Nine in ten whites and eight in ten blacks busted by campus police for small amounts of pot are offered pretrial diversion, which allows them to avoid jail through a drug program or probation. Eight in ten college-age whites arrested off campus by Gainesville police also get the same benefit. But that reprieve drops to a rate of five in 10 for college-aged blacks busted in the city.

• Some in the community have begged the sheriff and prosecutor to stop enforcing misdemeanor marijuana laws, but they refuse. Critics claim that is because the war on drugs is so lucrative. Drug enforcement justifies officer salaries. High arrest numbers help agencies apply for millions of dollars in federal grants. Forfeiture laws let police keep cars and cash seized from drug dealers.

Black community members have long denounced the disparities.

They march in rallies, organize special committees and work with national groups like the NAACP to bring change.

Not deaf to criticism, local police and the Sheriff’s Office launched programs that have reduced drug arrests by a quarter during the past three years. They also have sought to foster better relations with the black community and put officers through bias training.

“My desired outcome is building trust,” said Tony Jones, the Gainesville Police Department’s chief. “If I can build trust, that’s a block where you can do great things. If you have mistrust out there, you get nothing.”

Gainesville Police Chief Tony Jones. HERALD-TRIBUNE STAFF VIDEO / DAN WAGNER

But in a town with a history of racism — once a stronghold for the Ku Klux Klan; where a known Klan member worked for the county jail as recently as 2009; and where a police officer involved in a controversial shooting rode around a black neighborhood throwing eggs at suspected drug dealers and prostitutes — trust is hard to come by.

Larry Turner

What’s more, police initiatives have done little to close the racial gap in arrests and sentencing. Blacks still represent less than a quarter of the city residents but more than two-thirds of drug arrests.

“There is no question that white defendants get better treatment than black defendants from police encounters to arrests to initial bail hearings, all the way through the system,” said Larry Turner, a former judge with Alachua County’s 8th Circuit. “I remember when I was a new judge, frankly, almost breaking into tears when I saw one beautiful black man after another come before me who just seemed to be in the cycle of the criminal justice system and thinking, what in the world are we doing?”

The Campus: 'It’s like there’s amnesty'

The University of Florida’s sprawling campus sits in the heart of Gainesville, boasting manicured lawns, stately, brick buildings and one of the most expansive football stadiums in the nation.

Each fall, more than 50,000 students show up for classes. Fewer than 4,000 are black.

Life on campus. HERALD-TRIBUNE STAFF PHOTO / DAN WAGNER

Black UF students say they are treated fairly by campus police, but they cannot say the same for city cops.

“The campus police make you feel that they’re here to protect you, whereas off-campus it’s different,” said Gilbert Mudenda, a black student from Zambia.

Mudenda, who has lived in America for six years, recalled the time when several Gainesville police officers drew guns on him in a case of mistaken identity. They let him go after realizing he wasn’t their guy, but the experience scared him.

He’s wary now when he leaves campus.

At UF, though, “it’s like there’s amnesty,” Mudenda said. “This is kind of a safe zone where you get to experiment, both with your mind and your body.”

Forty percent of the roughly 100 drug-related offenses handled by the university in 2014 were prompted by complaints — usually a dormitory adviser who smelled pot from one of the rooms.

Not a single case involving a confirmed UF student ended with a guilty verdict.

The university’s police department issues student defendants notices to appear in court or simply refers them to UF’s internal Student Conduct and Conflict Resolution program, where a committee of faculty, staff and students make recommendations as to punishment for transgressions.

Some students receive warnings. The rest have charges dropped after completing six months of court-ordered probation.

Max Klein is a typical example.

The 18-year-old was caught smoking pot in his dorm room after a resident advisor smelled the odor and called university police. It was Klein's first brush with the law. His charges were dismissed after completing six months of probation under a plea deal. He has not been busted since.

The same goes for 22-year-old Ashley Cook.

She was caught smoking a joint at a concert by a plainclothes university police officer. It was Cook's second run-in with law enforcement — her first was possession of alcohol as a minor, but a judge in that case withheld her guilt.

Like Klein, Cook also saw her pot charges dismissed after a six-month probation under a plea deal. There is nothing else on her criminal record.

William Donelan

Then there’s William Donelan.

Police stopped the 31-year-old UF medical student in April 2014 for speeding. They found two pounds of marijuana in a vacuum-sealed package under his seat. He pleaded no contest to possession of marijuana and drug paraphernalia and could have received six years in prison, but the state prosecutor recommended mercy and Judge David Kreider complied. He gave the white student two years of probation instead.

University students of both races say campus police rarely go out of their way to catch students with drugs and in some cases turn a blind eye altogether.

But university administrators deny any atmosphere of tolerance. The lack of drug-related arrests is tied less to lax enforcement and more to the caliber of its students, said university Dean of Students Jen Day Shaw.

Dean Jen Day Shaw

She said most UF students are highly motivated people with their eyes on successful post-college careers, and they’re not going to sabotage those plans by doing drugs — at least not where they’ll get caught.

Those who do get caught on campus face not only legal consequences but university sanctions that can include expulsion, Shaw said.

Students “tend to be more afraid of us than they are of downtown,” Shaw said. “For us, it’s, ‘Please don’t kick me out, and please don’t take away my ability to be involved on campus.’”

Records show that students caught once typically aren’t caught again.

The Hood: 'They feel hopeless'

East Gainesville sits within walking distance of campus. The mostly black and low-income area is separated from the rest of the city by a former railroad track, now a converted walking and biking trail.

A woman and her daughter wait for a bus in east Gainesville. Herald-Tribune staff photo / Dan Wagner

Empty shops, boarded-up buildings and vacant lots dot the landscape despite repeated pledges by politicians to invest there.

Alachua County’s unemployment ranks among the lowest statewide. But in east Gainesville, one in three lack jobs, according to state unemployment data.

“Candidates always promise to bring more jobs to east Gainesville,” said Cynthia Moore Chestnut, a former Alachua County commissioner. “That promise disappears after the election.”

Cynthia Chestnut

Those broken promises have become so commonplace in the black community that many people no longer care to cast ballots, said Evelyn Foxx, president of the NAACP of Alachua County.

Foxx heard from dozens of people who told her during a voter registration drive ahead of November’s election that their voice doesn’t matter.

“They feel hopeless,” she said. “The politicians come into our churches and into our organizations and into our events and into the black community begging for our votes and then we don’t hear anything from them and they don’t do anything to make life better for us.”

Evelyn Foxx. GAINESVILLE SUN

For blacks in east Gainesville, run-ins with police are part of everyday life.

No matter how petty the reason — jaywalking, riding a bicycle without lights, acting nervous — blacks both young and old say it’s an excuse for officers or deputies to stop and search them.

“We get stopped just for walking or riding our bike through the neighborhood,” said Charles Nelson, a 63-year-old resident of east Gainesville. “They say it’s a drug neighborhood. It’s racist here — always has been.”

In 2014, at least 455 young adults stopped by the Gainesville Police Department ended up getting busted for misdemeanor marijuana possession. Three-quarters were black, and the vast majority was stopped for reasons unrelated to drugs.

About 130 blacks were detained for traffic violations. Half for serious offenses like speeding or running a stop sign and half for minor infractions — inoperable tag lights, failing to signal before changing lanes, not wearing a seat belt, illegal window tint or going 38 mph in a 35 mph zone.

Another 140 blacks stopped by city police were not driving at all. Half were passengers in cars pulled over for traffic infractions; 26 were standing or walking around the city; 19 were sitting in parked cars; eight were nabbed outside a nightclub; seven outside an apartment complex; seven for riding bicycles without lights; and eight more were just sitting somewhere minding their own business.

David Littles and Demetrius Ross were sitting under a tree playing cards when an officer walked up and asked to search them because he smelled marijuana. Deaglan Collins, Eric Bell and Andre Moore were sitting at a picnic table where police said they saw them trying to hide something. Alfred Cason was just sitting on a park bench.

In most cases, searches revealed small amounts of marijuana — rarely more than a joint or two. But defendants still had to go to court, and while some — like the three men sitting at the picnic table — had their charges dropped because of insufficient evidence, most ended up with fines of $300 or more.

If defendants refused to be searched, the police called the K-9 patrol and the results were the same.

“Police over-respond and over-arrest in these neighborhoods,” said Lanard Perry, assistant director of Alachua County Department Court Services.

Unlike college students, a disproportionate number of black Gainesville residents aren’t caught with drugs just once. They get busted over and over.

One-third of the 343 black defendants busted for pot in 2014 had been busted for the same offense before, and 32 were arrested again that same year.

Consider Ausheria Green. The 22-year-old was caught with marijuana while riding in a car pulled over by city police in 2013. She pleaded no contest and a judge found her guilty of possessing drug paraphernalia, sentencing her to a year of probation. Eighteen months later, she was busted on the same charge and entered a plea agreement. A judge found her guilty and ordered her to pay $301 in court fees.

Or James Brown. The 23-year-old was popped with pot in his car after being pulled over by city police during a traffic stop in January 2011. He pleaded "no contest" to possessing drug equipment and was ordered to pay $301 in court costs. It was his first of three drug-related busts over the next five years. In each case, the outcome was the same: A judge found him guilty after a "no contest" plea and he was ordered to pay $301 in court costs.

Darnell Sylvester

Or Darnell Sylvester, a black teenager who had at least eight encounters with law enforcement in 2014 alone.

In April, an incident report says Sylvester and his friends were spotted running away from Gardenia Apartments in east Gainesville after police received reports of a possible disturbance.

An officer stopped Sylvester and asked for his ID. When the 18-year-old reached in his pocket, a small bag of marijuana fell out, the report says. That prompted the officer to perform a pat down, discovering a second small bag of pot in Sylvester’s underwear.

Sylvester was charged, but a judge withheld his guilt.

A month later, an officer watched Sylvester walking through his east Gainesville neighborhood with a brown cigarette, a police report says. The officer suspected it was a joint and arrested him.

Sylvester was charged, but a judge withheld his guilt.

Seven months after that, police stopped the black teen near his home for riding his bicycle without front or rear lights. There was a warrant for his arrest on theft charges. Police searched him and found more pot, the offense report says.

Once again, Sylvester was charged, but the charges were later dropped.

Three weeks later, an officer recognized Sylvester behind the wheel of a car. The officer knew Sylvester had a suspended license and there was a warrant for his arrest, a police report says. The officer searched the car and found more pot, prompting yet another misdemeanor marijuana arrest.

This time, Sylvester was found guilty of misdemeanor marijuana possession. He spent 10 days in jail and was ordered to pay a $401 fine.

To many in law enforcement, these repeated arrests are evidence of the black community’s disregard for the law.

“What probably accounts for a lot of the disparities you see in arrests of whites and blacks is that the culture tends to be, from my experience, that black individuals tend to be more social in their use of marijuana in outside settings,” said Alachua County Sheriff Sadie Darnell. “Whites tend to do it indoors and so they’re less prone to being seen.”

Sadie Darnell

Others call it police profiling.

“If four young black men get into car at 8 o’clock, they’ll be stopped by 12 o’clock by a white cop,” said Byrd, the retired correctional officer. “All they have to do is drive around Gainesville, and they’ll be stopped.”

Black residents are tired of the attention.

“People are really bitter and they don’t respect the officers,” said Foxx, Alachua County’s NAACP president. “They don’t have any faith in them.”

Even when black leaders assume public office, like Gainesville Police Chief Tony Jones, people believe their hands are tied by the system.

“Tony Jones is a good man,” said Nelson, the 63-year-old east Gainesville resident. “But Tony is just one little black dude. What the hell is he going to do that they don’t tell him to do?”

The Courts: 'You just want to get out of jail'

The uneven policing leads to even more disparities in the county’s courts.

Many blacks appearing before judges have long rap sheets. Of the 343 young black adults busted for pot by Gainesville police in 2014, 60 percent had at least two prior arrests on their records.

Those longer criminal histories mean blacks are more likely to be arrested for minor infractions rather than receive a notice to appear in court. They’re more likely to be held on bail and receive longer sentences. And they are less likely to be offered pretrial diversion to avoid prosecution.

Judges in Alachua County often set bail for defendants even when they pose no flight risk or danger to society. Not surprisingly, these financial obstacles to freedom disproportionately affect blacks.

Alachua County Court Services recently studied what it called low-level bail, which it defined as any amount set at less than $5,000. It found that two-thirds of the 43 defendants held on low-level bail in October were black. One of them, Carl Denson, lacked only $50 to get out.

The longer defendants sit in jail awaiting trial, the more likely they are to plead guilty just to get out.

“If you’re in jail, you are more likely to plead guilty than if you’re not in jail,” said Michael Buchanan, a Gainesville criminal defense attorney. “This is particularly evident in the drug war. That’s a statistical reality. You just want to get out of jail.”

The result is that one-third of all young black adults busted on pot charges by Gainesville police from 2004 through 2015 were found guilty, according to records from the Offender Based Transaction System, a massive database of criminal cases compiled by court clerks.

That guilty rate dropped to 2 percent for white college kids busted on campus.

When it came to harder drugs, more than half of neighborhood blacks between 18 and 30 years old were found guilty during the same 12-year period, OBTS records show. For white college kids, it was 6 percent.

“Most white folks can come up with the money one way or another and most blacks cannot — not without great sacrifice,” said Turner, the former circuit judge. “It’s one of the things that used to make me crazy. One of the reasons I’m not a judge anymore. One of the reasons I retired early.”

The disparities in arrests also drive longer sentences for blacks.

Judges in Alachua County send college-aged blacks convicted of possessing hard drugs such as cocaine to 236 days in lockup if they were busted off campus. Black and white students accused of the same crimes on campus, however, have not spent a day in jail.

“We have set up this system that by design we can claim is race-neutral, but its impact is not race-neutral,” Buchanan said. “It’s easier to perhaps enforce drug laws in poor communities than it is behind the gated fences of upscale condos.”

Children walk home from school in East Gainesville. HERALD-TRIBUNE STAFF PHOTO / DAN WAGNER

The Cops: 'Blacks commit more crimes than whites'

The war on drugs did not start in some rural Florida courthouse. It began in the White House.

President Richard Nixon declared drug abuse “America’s public enemy No. 1” in 1971 and vowed to wage a “war on drugs.” He then created the Drug Enforcement Administration and helped spawn an army of laws that targeted low-income and minority communities.

The war accelerated under Ronald Reagan with the rise of the crack epidemic and the Anti-Drug Abuse Act.

It escalated again under Bill Clinton, whose federal crime bill expanded the size of police departments nationwide and mandated life sentences for anyone guilty of three or more felonies, including simple drug possession.

From the beginning, black neighborhoods were the natural targets.

Decades later, those policies continue to dominate decisions about how and where to allocate law enforcement resources.

“There never was war on drugs — there was a war on poor, black and brown people,” said Howard Finkelstein, Broward County’s public defender. “Blacks and whites use drugs at the same percentages, and you look at who is arrested and incarcerated. The disparity doesn’t mean you need to look close — it is so blatant, it is so in your face.”

Howard Finkelstein

Alachua County law enforcement officials know they patrol more heavily in minority communities, but say that’s where the crime is.

They know they arrest more blacks, but say they’re breaking more laws.

They know they’re giving blacks fewer second chances, but say they have the worst records.

“The reality is more blacks commit more crimes than whites,” said 8th Circuit State Attorney William Cervone. “I can’t tell you why, but you can’t argue with it.

William Cervone

Police say they are not on a witch hunt and point to complaints coming from people like Barbara Reed.

The 66-year-old black woman spends her days perched on a chair outside her home in the Pine Meadows housing project, clutching a cordless phone, ready to call the police, or the housing project manager, or other neighbors at the first whiff of delinquency.

Reed heads the area’s Neighborhood Crime Watch program. She knows most of the officers by name and said some of them will drop by just to check on her. A few will even bring her a soda or a snack.

“I call the cops whenever I see kids hanging out on the corner,” Reed said. “I am sick of the drug dealing. I don’t think that’s racist.”

But data show these complaints are not why police spend most of their time in the black neighborhood.

Only 15 percent of 343 young black adults busted for misdemeanor marijuana possession by Gainesville Police officers in 2014 were stopped because of an outstanding warrant, an undercover operation or because someone called the cops. The rest were either stopped for traffic violations or approached by foot patrols.

Alachua County commissioners have long complained about the volume of pot arrests in minority communities.

In August, they passed an ordinance giving deputies the ability to issue civil citations for misdemeanor marijuana instead of pressing criminal charges. But Alachua County law enforcement officers continue to resist despite repeated threats from the commission to cut funding.

Alachua County Commissioner Hutch Hutchinson says that’s because they have something to lose.

Hutch Hutchinson

Law enforcement agencies dedicate 25 staff members to the countywide drug task force and dozens more participate in busts during the normal course of duty.

The county sheriff and city police have used high numbers of drug arrests to apply for nearly $3 million in federal grants.

Law enforcement officers also seized more than $10 million in cash, cars and other valuable assets from drug dealers since 2004.

“Police are on an Easter egg hunt,” Hutchinson said. “What is the incentive? I think every now and then they luck out and find somebody with a large amount of dope in their car, and they get to confiscate the car. The forfeiture business has been big in Florida.”

Sheriff Darnell denied forfeiture opportunities motivate drug busts.

They’re simply not that big of a factor in an agency with a $30 million law enforcement budget, she said.

“We’re enforcing the laws as established by our lawmakers,” Darnell said. “If laws need to be changed, it’s by the legislative process.”

Extras

The role of race in poverty

Drug busts on and off campus