Category: criminal justice

PubliCola Questions: City Attorney Candidate Erika Evans

By Erica C. Barnett

Ann Davison, Seattle’s one-term Republican city attorney, is vulnerable.

The reasons are both obvious—did I mention she’s a Republican? How about the fact that she became a Republican after Trump’s first election?—and not-so: Davison has led the way on some initiatives that have proved to be quite controversial, including punitive crackdowns on drug use and sex work, but can’t point to measurable results, such as fewer people using fentanyl in public or a reduction in sex trafficking—the ostensible reason for reintroducing the city’s “prostitution loitering” law.

Three candidates have stepped forward so far, all running against Davison from the left. Erika Evans, until recently an assistant US Attorney at the Department of Justice, says her experience in both the federal government and the city attorney’s office, where she worked in both the civil and criminal divisions under former city attorney Pete Holmes, gives her a unique perspective on the role.

Evans has also worked as a pro tem municipal court judge outside Seattle, is past president of the Loren Miller Bar Association, and co-chaired the Washington Leadership Institute, which helps lawyers from underrepresented groups develop their careers.

We spoke on Monday.

PubliCola (ECB): Tell me a little bit about yourself and your background.

Erika Evans (EE): I was born and raised in Tacoma, Washington. My grandparents instilled the values in me, early on, of standing up when something’s wrong and of standing up for community and public service. Before I started law school, I wrote a letter to myself about why I wanted to be an attorney—to serve and represent my community—and that’s what I’ve done.

I’m running because my values, and the reason why I became an attorney, were completely obstructed in my previous role as an assistant US Attorney, with the crazy executive orders that have come down from the Trump administration. They are completely counter to the values that I hold. I’m someone that is willing to fight and go up against Trump for what is happening. People are scared. That’s why I’m running for city attorney— because I have the values and experience to fight Trump.

ECB: Were you laid off in the recent purges or did you resign—and what were your responsibilities there?

EE: I resigned last Friday on my own terms. I wasn’t fired. I didn’t take Musk’s deferred resignation offer.

I was one of the civil rights coordinators. We were responsible for the prosecution and investigations of hate crimes and also violations by law enforcement officers who violate people’s rights. I was also in the violent crimes and terrorism unit. I’ve been involved with getting hundreds of thousands of fentanyl pills off the street, getting unlawful firearms off the streets.

ECB: As a federal employee, I’m sure you have lots of thoughts about what the Trump administration is doing to gut the justice department and the rest of the federal government. Where do you think the city attorney’s office could be stepping up to speak or act out against the administration, and how has Davison’s office fallen short?

EE: The city attorney absolutely does not need to be afraid to challenge President Trump and stand up to him. We need to make sure that Seattle is safe for all people. I think a big role the city attorney’s office can play right now is bringing affirmative litigation when it affects the city of Seattle as well as partnering with the attorney general on some of these issues.

A big failure we’re seeing is [Davison] hiding and not doing anything and not saying anything when people are really afraid right now. I was speaking with a professional who said they recently started bringing multiple pieces of ID around with them in Seattle because they were scared of being identified as potentially an immigrant.

Ann has isolated herself. She quit the Democratic Party to become a Republican during the Trump administration. She’s not in community and just not being responsive to what’s going on, and that’s not leadership.

PubliCola is supported entirely by readers like you.
CLICK BELOW to become a one-time or monthly contributor.

Support PubliCola

ECB: What did you think of Davison’s decision to join the lawsuit challenging Trump’s executive order threatening to pull federal funding out of sanctuary cities like Seattle, which came a couple weeks after it was filed?

EE: I think it was obviously too late when she jumped in. She also did it at a time when she was getting pressure from the mayor to do something. She also defined [the issue] as local control and that’s weird—it’s not what this is about. This is about protecting our community members who live here—our neighbors, our friends, and people we care about and love. She’s done the bare minimum, and that’s not what our city deserves at all.

ECB: What are your top priorities if you’re elected and how will you distinguish yourself from the current group of candidates, which also includes Rory O’Sullivan and, in the left lane, Nathan Rouse?

EE: My top priorities are public safety, leading with a restorative justice model, and not being afraid to fight back for our community and the city of Seattle. What sets me apart is my lived experience, my professional experience, and my community leadership. Navigating the world as a Black woman, running for an elected prosecutor position in a world where our work will affect communities of color, coming from a background of being a federal prosecutor and actually doing the work of prosecuting in the federal courts, and community leadership, being the head of the largest diverse bar association in our state.

ECB: Davison has been very proactive on legislation, actively advocating for laws like SOAP and SODA, which target drug users and people who pay for sex. Is there legislation that you will push for if you’re elected?

EE: I think that while the city attorney is not a legislative role, there’s definitely room for using the power to advocate. At the end of the day, our values are: We care about community and people being safe, we want people to have homes, we want people who are dealing with addiction to have treatment. Those are the values that Seattleites care about.

When we’re talking about SOAP and SODA, there were a lot of promises from Ann on that. We’ve seen from the Seattle Times article that it’s not even being enforced. There’s way more effective tools for going after things that matter. That’s the experience I have—going after high-level traffickers, understanding the dynamics of that, knowing how to partner with our federal prosecutors that are doing that work.

ECB: Some have accused Davison of being slow to prosecute crimes like domestic violence and DUI, blaming the crime lab backlog for the DUI cases. Would you prioritize these kinds of cases above other cases like drug arrests and prosecutions under the new SOAP and SODA laws?

EE: I think that comes from just a lack of experience. It’s not fair to communities when we’re having drivers that are driving intoxicated and putting others at risk and there’s no accountability. It needs to be swift.

I think Ann’s high-utilizer [initiative] definitely has an overemphasis on incarceration, and people are cycling through that without exiting to long-term solutions. There needs to be behavioral health and resources for people that are going through a revolving door, not just locking people up.

ECB: Can you respond to the argument that jail gives people a “time out” and an opportunity to become clear-headed enough to think about treatment, stable housing, and other services they may not be clear-headed enough to consider when they’re out on the street?

EE: Being at the federal level, I saw that drugs get into the jails and people use drugs in jail all the time. I prosecuted someone that was smuggling them in. Jail is not really a place to have the resources and support people need.

ECB: Do you think the city attorney was right to end community court, and would you try to replace or revive this resource?

EE: I think it was a disaster to get rid of community court. When you’re talking about opportunities for people to get a case dismissed and comply with services and get help, that should definitely be available.

ECB: As city attorney, you’ll have to defend the city even when you personally don’t agree with its actions. How will you handle that part of the job? And is there anything the city attorney’s office can do upstream to reduce the number and size of these settlements, which continue to grow every year?

EE: Working in that office on the civil side, I had cases where the city was our client, and SPD is our client too. On the other end, there were cases I worked on where we were representing the city because officers were suing the city. That’s absolutely what part of the role is—you have a responsibility to city of Seattle agencies and you’re their attorney.

It’s important to try to avoid things in the first place, and I’m thinking of the precinct liaisons that are in every police department precinct and how we are training offices to interact with communities to avoid those lawsuits. And experience is needed at that top level—someone that’s actually done those cases and knows some of the pitfalls that can be resolved.

ECB: Ann Davison is a Republican. In what ways should that a concern to Seattle voters going into a second Trump administration?

EE: We are at a terrible and crazy time where we have attacks on communities of color, on LGBTQ+ communities, on our immigrant communities, on our identities. All of that is stuff that Trump has told us he is going to be coming after and has come after. All these things put our communities at risk. People are scared right now, and having [a city attorney] that is not saying anything is disgraceful. And we absolutely need someone that understands the federal system, that has served in it and is willing to fight against Trump and all the things that are coming. We need to be not just reactive—we need to be proactive.

We talked about my decision to leave my position. We got a note and an executive order from Pam Bondi and the White House. It said that as US Attorneys, we are Trump’s lawyers, and that is their interpretation of the law. They were completely taking away our independent discretion. You asked about Ann during a Trump administration. It hones the importance of having a leaders that understands their oath is to the constitution, upholding the law, and protecting people. That is what I represent and the job I will do as city attorney and that is something that has been lacking.

Eleven People Have Died at this South King County Jail in the Last Two Years. Their Families Are Demanding Answers.

SCORE jail in Des Moines. Photo by Andrew Engelson

Families, former medical staff, and people incarcerated at SCORE say the jail is plagued by inadequate care, filthy conditions, and hostile staff.

By Andrew Engelson

Deaken Sullivan was in high school in the late 1990s when he attempted to sneak into a Tom Petty concert at the Gorge amphitheater. In the process, he fell off a cliff and nearly died. Sullivan was evacuated, received medical care, and got a prescription for oxycodone, which was widely marketed in the 1990s under the brand name Oxycontin. Like many others, Sullivan quickly developed an addiction to the drug.

After the accident, Sullivan ran into trouble with the law and eventually became homeless. On July 30, 2024, he was booked into the South Correctional Entity, an 800-bed jail in South King County commonly known as SCORE. The following day, he died in custody from “acute fentanyl and methamphetamine intoxication,” according to the King County Medical Examiner.

“He was funny. He was a comedian. He was very athletic. He loved football,” said Deaken’s sister, Stacy Bradley. “He was very popular. The girls loved him.”

Bradley, who lives near Phoenix, said of her brother’s death, “I don’t understand how someone just dies in custody. That doesn’t make sense to me. It doesn’t compute—how does he just die?”

Sullivan was one of 11 people who have died in custody at SCORE in the past two years.

Though the jail is owned and operated by the cities of Auburn, Burien, Des Moines, Renton, SeaTac, and Tukwila, more than half its inmates are from other cities that contract with the jail, including jurisdictions ranging from the Port of Seattle to Bellevue and Bellingham.

The city of Seattle entered into an interlocal agreement with SCORE last year to house some misdemeanor offenders at the jail. But Callie Craighead, a spokeswoman for Mayor Bruce Harrell’s office, said the city has not begun this pilot project, which would cost the city $2.8 million for 20 beds if implemented.

An agreement in November between the city of Seattle and King County now allows the Seattle Police Department to book more people for misdemeanors in the county’s downtown jail, alleviating the potential need for beds at SCORE. The mayor’s office said SPD has booked about 1,000 people into SCORE in the past year, almost exclusively on arrest warrants from jurisdictions outside Seattle.  “Booking in the King County Jail will remain the preferred option for the City,” Craighead said.

In the past three months alone, two people have died in custody at SCORE, and one died immediately after being released: Garrett Floth on November 1, Dwight Benson on January 27, and Patricia Ryden on February 1. Benson died at Valley Medical Center in Renton on the day he was released from SCORE. SCORE director Devon Schrum declined to respond to questions about the recent deaths, saying that she could not comment on any ongoing investigation.

Over the past few months, PubliCola spoke with family members of people who have died at SCORE, a former member of the jail’s medical staff, and several people who have been incarcerated at SCORE. They say the jail has inadequate medical care, substandard detox procedures, and filthy living conditions.

Bradley has requested documents from SCORE related to her brother’s death, but has not received them.

Bradley had lost touch with her brother by the time  he was incarcerated at SCORE, but said she still loved him and had hoped he’d eventually get into recovery. “You think you’re prepared for the call,” she said. “But when it comes, you’re just totally not prepared. It rocked my world. He was my baby brother.”

Bradley said she called SCORE not long after her brother’s death to ask how often guards checked in on her brother and what, if any, medical or detox care he received. She said the staff member she spoke to was defensive. According to Bradley, the staffer told her someone had checked on Sullivan four times, that he was given aspirin, and that he refused food and water. At that point, Bradley said, she asked if medical staff had given him an IV to replace lost fluids and electrolytes. Bradley said the staff member told her, “He wouldn’t need an IV,” then said he couldn’t discuss any more medical details with her.

Schrum said, “SCORE expects all staff to always treat everyone with compassion and professionalism regardless of the circumstances.”

Lisa Rogers, who worked as a nurse at SCORE. Photo by Andrew Engelson

“The most unprofessional place I’ve ever worked in my life”

Lisa Rogers, a registered nurse for 27 years, worked the night shift at SCORE between March 2022 and October 2022 as an employee of WellPath, a national health care contractor that provides medical care at SCORE.

“It was the most unprofessional place I’ve ever worked in my life,” Rogers said of SCORE. “It was filthy, and the people were very unprofessional in the way that they spoke [and] the way that they made decisions based on patient care.”

Rogers said she had little assistance caring for the more than 400 people incarcerated at SCORE. There were two licensed practical nurses on the night shift, but Rogers said they were mostly responsible for administering medications. (LPNs go through a shorter certification program than RNs and usually do basic tasks under supervision).

Guards and other staff pressured her to treat people in the jail as inmates rather than patients, she said. “It was not quality nursing. It was quantity nursing. They didn’t care, as long as there was a nurse there that had a license. Rogers recalled being told to “just page through” new inmates’ three-page intake form without seriously assessing people.

“They’re just trying to get people booked as quickly as they can,” she said. Continue reading “Eleven People Have Died at this South King County Jail in the Last Two Years. Their Families Are Demanding Answers.”

Council Committee Reinstates “Stay Out” Zones for Drug Use and Sex Work, Along With Prostitution Loitering Law

Photo of Councilmember Rob Saka in council chambers

The council called in two top police officials to subdue a small group of people who wanted to give public comment against the proposals.

By Erica C. Barnett

When then-King County Prosecutor Norm Maleng first proposed Stay Out of Drug Areas (SODA)—parts of town from which people accused of drug-related crimes, including use and possession, could be banned—in 1990, city leaders and the Seattle Times hailed the innovation as a solution to “open-air drug dealing,” particularly in an area centered around Pike Street and Third Avenue downtown.

At the time, crack was the drug most people were using in public, and supporters of the new banishment zones, located in neighborhoods across the city, said they would disrupt drug activity and reduce problematic drug use by making crack less available; addicts, the idea went, would stop smoking so much crack if the city made it harder to get by arresting people for going inside the new “drug areas.”

At the same time, supporters of the banishment areas—which also included Stay Out of Area of Prostitution, or SOAP, zones—were explicit that the primary goal was to “clean up” neighborhoods where homeowners said they were frightened and disgusted at the sight of sex workers and drug users. One neighborhood activist from the Denny Regrade area told the Seattle Times in 1992 that she was glad the orders would prevent “a very small number of people to control our lives”; a police officer added that that the program was successful because drug users and sex workers were “going somewhere else.”

Over time, the crack epidemic waned and the drugs causing successive waves of SODA orders changed, from Oxycontin to heroin to meth. Research has shown that the orders did not reduce drug use or sex work, but they did make the lives of drug users and sex workers harder, by physically banning them from areas in which they used to access services and by turning them into hunted people who could be, and were, jailed when they were caught simply being inside the areas from which they were banished. Eventually, some 25 years after the first SODA orders, the city largely abandoned the experiment, concluding on the basis of decades of evidence that it hadn’t worked.

On Tuesday, a majority of the Seattle City Council voted to start the cycle over again, by legislatively creating six new banishment zones for drug offenders and one for clients of sex workers and pimps. The new SODA areas, approved by the council’s public safety committee in a 5-0 vote, will include parts of Belltown, downtown around Third and Pine, Pioneer Square, Capitol Hill, the University District, and the Chinatown/International District; anyone accused of violating the city’s misdemeanor drug law, which bans people from using or possessing illegal drugs in public, may be subject to a ban—even if they are never convicted of a violation.

The new SOAP zone, which will stretch several blocks to the east and west of Aurora Avenue North from 85th to 145th Street, is included in legislation that will also reinstate a repealed “prostitution loitering” law that will allow police to arrest people for engaging in behavior that, according to the legislation, suggests they are sex workers, such as waving at people, repeatedly “engag[ing] passersby in conversation,” or asking someone if they are a police officer. The law will make it significantly easier for police to arrest sex workers and men attempting to buy sex; under current law, undercover cops must obtain a verbal agreement to trade money for sex before they can make an arrest.

PubliCola is supported entirely by readers like you.
CLICK BELOW to become a one-time or monthly contributor.

Support PubliCola

 

Council members added five new drug areas to the bill, each arguing that a particular spot in their council district was especially dangerous and that this danger would be fixed by creating a no-go zone for drug users; although the bill explicitly refers to the misdemeanor drug law, which targets users, many council members suggested it would target a completely separate group of “dealers” who were preying on addicts. In reality, many drug users sell drugs as a form of subsistence income.

Arguing for a new SODA area encompassing 21 blocks of Capitol Hill, including all of Cal Anderson Park, for example, Councilmember Joy Hollingsworth said, “the outdoor drug consumption [in the area] has been incredibly unsafe. It is a severe hazard and has created an incredibly dangerous environment for our community.”

Maritza Rivera, supporting a SODA zone encompassing 18 blocks around University Way NE, said she had grown up in an “inner-city neighborhood” where, as a child, she had to “walk every day through those areas, constantly fearing for being caught in the crossfire between between the drug dealers … in my neighborhood.” The new SODA area on the Ave, she said, would disrupt a similarly dangerous situation there.

And Rob Saka, adding a new SODA zone in Pioneer Square, said, “the headline for this piece of legislation is clear, and let it be known from the rooftops, Seattle is no longer a safe place, a safe space to do your dirt. It’s no longer a tolerable, permissive place where pushers and drug dealers can come and take advantage and exploit our most vulnerable residents and neighbors suffering from debilitating behavioral health crisis and drug addiction challenges.”

Saka also inadvertently acknowledged the expansionary nature of SODA zones, noting that with new SODA areas to the east and west of Pioneer Square, there would be a “spillover effect” unless Pioneer Square was also made off-limits to drug users.

As PubliCola has reported, SODA and SOAP zones were not effective in improving the lives of the people they targeted (by reducing addiction, for example), or eliminating drug use and sex work in the areas where they were in effect. Instead, drug users and sex workers generally returned to the areas from which they were banished, dodging police or facing arrest again and again.

Nonetheless, Council President Sara Nelson said it was incorrect to say these zones didn’t work in the past, because according to a council central staff report, between 2006 and 2009, “defendants in 83 percent of SODA cases did not violate their orders, and 58 percent did not commit another drug offense.”

Although Nelson suggested that people who were banished from SODA areas stopped going into those areas and ceased using drugs, it is far more likely—according to research by academic Katherine Beckett into the impacts the bans had on the people they targeted—that during those years, only 17 percent of people were caught inside the areas from which they were banned. Back then, SODA areas only applied to felonies, and a relatively small number of people faced prosecution—the 58 percent of people who “did not commit another drug offense” represent just 121 people prosecuted for felony drug offenses who were subject to SODA order, a tiny sample that says nothing about overall drug use in the city.

Speaking in favor of her SOAP zone proposal, Councilmember Cathy Moore said she had heard repeatedly from constituents that sex workers were a threat to their safety, including “constituents whose elderly parents were actually assaulted” by sex workers, that “school children” were being “solicited” by sex workers on their way to and from school, and that “a tremendous amount of violence,” robberies, and assaults in her district, including shootings, have “truly been fueled by the sex trade.”

This, like the rhetoric about drug use, is a common refrain in Seattle’s history; residents near Aurora have blamed sex workers for crime in the area since at least the late 1960s, when the city began pushing sex workers out of downtown, and successive crackdowns, including thousands of arrests for prostitution loitering and SOAP order violations, have failed to eliminate the sex trade in the area.

The council’s votes for the new banishment areas came after an hour and a half of public comment, most of it opposed to the two proposals, which committee chair Bob Kettle cut off in the interest of “time.”

More than 100 people had signed up to speak, and comments were already reduced from the standard two minutes to 60 seconds, strictly enforced—public commenters, including Alison Eisinger of the Seattle/King County Coalition on Homelessness and King County Department of Public Defense director Anita Khandelwal, were cut off mid-word, as if the council couldn’t abide letting a single person finish their sentence. Kettle’s decision to cut off public comment prompted an entirely predictable outburst of anger from the crowd, which demanded that the council listen to the remaining people who had taken time out of their days to give feedback to their elected representatives.

Ironically, Kettle sent out an email before the meeting encouraging people to show up and comment on the legislation; he may have assumed that the response to his request would be a groundswell of supportive comments, rather than the overwhelming opposition to both laws the council has heard in public comment so far.

Faced with negative feedback, the council has repeatedly shut down public comments, marching off the dais en masse and retreating to their offices for recesses that typically last longer than it would have taken to let people speak.  Yesterday was no exception. As people began to yell things like “shame!” “this is going to exacerbate the problem!” and “You wouldn’t listen to all the people!,” Kettle, Council President Sara Nelson, and Councilmember Joy Hollingsworth shouted “point of order!” and accused the crowd of being “disruptive” and violating council rules.

After calling out “security!” several times, Kettle summoned the captain of SPD’s West Precinct, Steve Strand, and Assistant Police Chief Thomas Mahaffey, along with several other officers, to deal with with a small group of stragglers who continued to demand that the council let them speak.

Moore went so far as to suggest that sex workers who showed up to explain how the bill would impact them, among others who spoke in opposition to her bill, were “delegitimizing” the experiences of women who were trafficked, “which is very, very traumatizing in itself.” And Hollingsworth said members of the public who continued to speak were being disrespectful and preventing people with actual “lived experience” from delivering a planned presentation—never mind that many of the speakers who opposed the bill were people who took the risky step of identifying themselves as sex workers in a very public forum.

The “people with lived experience” Hollingsworth was referring to turned out to be two representatives from a one-year-old group called The More We Love run by Kirkland mortgage broker Kristine Moreland, plus a sex trafficking consultant who supports Moore’s bill.

PubliCola has extensively covered Moreland’s strange rise to prominence, from a volunteer with the Union Gospel Mission to the owner-operator of The More We Love, originally a private business offering encampment “sweeps” at $515 per person removed, or $20,000 for a “40-person sweep.” Earlier this year, Burien City Manager Adolfo Bailon ended the city’s longstanding contract with REACH, an established outreach organization, and transferred their million-dollar contract to The More We Love and Moreland, who has claimed—without offering evidence—to be more successful than any organization in Burien’s history at housing and providing services to unsheltered people.

Lately, Moreland has been positioning herself as an expert on getting women out of the sex trade, and now refers to The More We Love as a “direct service provider that works with commercially exploited people.” Moreland’s rebrand has apparently convinced the Seattle City Council; Moore has invited Moreland and people affiliated with The More We Love to council chambers twice to give extensive presentations, and has described Moreland—who previously volunteered with Real Escape from the Sex Trade (REST)—as an expert on the sex trade.

Moore has repeatedly said she wants to proposed funding for a “receiving center” for women wanting to escape sex trafficking—the carrot to go along with the stick of prosecutions and jail for people caught “loitering” on Aurora. Moreland’s group, conveniently enough, has proposed just such a receiving center, which would “offer transitional housing to survivors” of sex work, according to the Federal Way Mirror. All they need is for money to begin flowing from some new government source—like, say, the City of Seattle.

Wild Day at City Hall as Council Blocks Social Housing from Ballot, Shuts Down Meeting, Retreats to Their Offices to Approve New Jail Contract

City Council President Sara Nelson, after reconvening the meeting from inside her council office.

By Erica C. Barnett

The Seattle City Council delayed a vote on an initiative, I-137, to fund social housing, citing unspecified legal concerns, on Tuesday. The council’s last-minute maneuver prevents the measure from going onto the ballot in November, when progressive voter turnout is likely to be high. A majority of the council appears to oppose the measure, which would impose a 5% tax, paid by employers, on employee compensation above $1 million a year.

Voters approved a separate measure, Initiative 135, last February; that initiative created a new public developer to build permanently affordable, mixed-income public housing for people making between 0 and 120 percent of the Seattle median income. Initiative 137 would provide a funding source to build that housing. The campaign for I-135 and I-137, House Our Neighbors, collected about 35,000 signatures to support putting the measure on the November ballot.

The delay gives the council more time to draft and approve an alternative ballot measure that would appear alongside the social housing measure. Last week, the Seattle Chamber put out a poll testing messages on I-137 and an alternative measure, “Proposition 1-B,” that would amend the housing levy voters adopted last year to use some of its funds for social housing, defined as “housing with a mix of income levels not to exceed 80% of median income, that is developed or acquired by, and then owned in perpetuity or as long as lawfully possible by, a public developer.”

A question from a Chamber-sponsored poll testing messages against I-137, which would fund social housing.

Ordinarily, when a council majority opposes an initiative, their recourse is to put a competing initiative on the ballot—something that happened with voting alternatives in 2022 and with the Families and Education Levy in 2014, to name just a couple of examples. What councils generally don’t do—what appears, in fact, to be unprecedented in recent history—is use delay tactics to keep a measure out of the election for which it qualified, in order to push the measure to a later, less favorable election cycle.

Councilmember Tammy Morales, the only council member to vote against the delay, later called the vote “one of the most undemocratic moments I’ve seen in Seattle,” noting that not only did the council vote to keep I-137 off the Presidential election-year ballot, Council President Sara Nelson also cut off public comment, refusing to hear from people who showed up and signed in to speak.

Nelson had already cut the allotted time for each comment from two minutes to one, a practice the city council once used far more judiciously, and admonished the audience repeatedly for clapping and cheering, which she said slowed down the public comment process.

Near the end of in-person public comment, Councilmember Bob Kettle—whose legislation approving a contract with the SCORE jail many members of the public had come to City Hall to oppose—could be heard on a hot mic, immediately after a person spoke against the jail contract and proposed anti-drug and prostitution laws, muttering, “This fucking drives me nuts” (listen below):

Nelson herself was responsible for most of the delay in Tuesday’s meeting, because she called two ten-minute recesses, which were both followed—unsurprisingly—by shouts from the crowd, who chanted, “You didn’t let us speak!”

In the past, council members in charge of meetings have often defused similar situations by letting people speak, or (less productively) forcing the public to leave, using security or police to move or arrest people who refuse to go. This time—perhaps hoping to avoid the spectacle of arresting members of the public—Nelson  stopped the meeting and had the entire council retreat to their offices, where they reemerged, virtually, a few minutes later. (Nelson, somewhat ironically, has insisted that in-person meetings are infinitely superior to virtual ones.)

Back in the relative solitude of their offices, the council resumed its discussion about the city’s contract with SCORE, a jail in Des Moines where the city hopes to jail people accused of committing misdemeanors, such as public drug use and (soon) prostitution and drug loitering, in all parts of the city. Councilmember Bob Kettle, the council sponsor for Mayor Bruce Harrell’s legislation, said he was assured by a visit to SCORE that their facility was high-quality and the medical care was stellar. “They’re fantastic at providing care at SCORE,” Kettle said.

Shortly after the meeting, Andrew Engelson, who’s been covering SCORE for PubliCola, reported on X that a 42-year-old man died at SCORE one week ago—the seventh death at the jail in less than 18 months.

The downtown King County jail recently began booking people on misdemeanors committed in the so-called Downtown Activation Zone, but generally only books people accused of crimes that endanger other people directly, such as domestic violence and DUI, or people who are on City Attorney Ann Davison’s “high utilizers” list.)

The contract would cost well over the $2 million annual sticker price listed in the legislation, because that estimate doesn’t include any of the new court staff, defense attorneys, and technology upgrades the municipal court has said will be necessary to implement it. The cost to transport people between Des Moines and Seattle—a 30-to-40-minute drive—is also unknown, since the city hasn’t identified which kinds of cases it plans to send to SCORE; most people booked on nonviolent misdemeanors are back out on the street in a day or two, but those with more complex cases may stay longer, necessitating more travel back and forth for court appearances.

According to a fiscal note produced by Harrell’s office, the SCORE contract will have no race and social justice implications, and the city did not perform a racial equity toolkit or any other racial equity analysis on the legislation. “The ability to utilize the jail for misdemeanor bookings is not a new process for the city and has historically been utilized as one of many tools when upstream approaches and community-based interventions have been unsuccessful,” the fiscal note explains.

The city’s Reentry Work Group, established in 2015 by a city council that included Harrell, recommended in 2018 that the city reduce its reliance on jails as a response to misdemeanor offenses, noting that “Black individuals only comprise 7% of the King County population, but account for 36% of the King County Jail population; Native Americans only comprise of 1% of the King County population, but account for 2.7% of the King County Jail population.” That same work group recommended removing drug and prostitution loitering laws from the criminal code. Although that recommendation was released in 2018, the council didn’t pass it until two years later; now, arguing that the previous council went “too far” in adopting progressive legislation, the new council is preparing to reinstate both laws.

As its last act of the day, the council approved the SCORE contract (with an amendment by Councilmember Dan Strauss requiring a report on “identified operational issues”) on an 8-1 vote, with Morales voting “no.”

Note: This story originally reported that Tammy Morales abstained from the SCORE vote, and that the vote was 7-1. This error has been corrected.

Council Committee Approves Contract With SCORE Jail in Des Moines; SCORE Inmate Died of Overdose in June

City Councilmember Bob Kettle

1. The city council’s public safety committee advanced a contract with the South Correctional Entity (SCORE) yesterday that will allow the city to rent out 20 beds from the jail in Des Moines, which is jointly owned by six South King County cities.

According to an analysis by city council central staff, the contract could cost well over the estimated total of $2 million a year, because that estimate does not account for the cost to pay Seattle Police Department officers overtime wages (on average, $105 an hour) to ferry people back and forth from SCORE to Seattle Municipal Court in downtown Seattle; medical services for anyone who has to go to the South King County hospital where SCORE sends inmates who need medical attention; and up to $300,000 for a new “data bridge” connecting the jail to the Seattle Police Department and Municipal Court systems.

The city could also have to pay for additional marshals at the courthouse, additional public defense attorneys to handle the increase in caseload, and potentially an eighth judge to handle cases, including first appearance cases and mental health court. Mayor Bruce Harrell, who initiated the legislation, has not identified any funding source beyond this year; the city, meanwhile, is going into the 2025 budget cycle with a deficit of around $260 million.

The beds at SCORE would be in addition to those at the downtown Seattle jail, where King County just agreed to begin booking people for minor misdemeanors committed in downtown Seattle, after a long period of booking restrictions imposed during the COVID pandemic.

The contract just gives the city the right to use the beds, but does not commit Seattle to paying for beds at SCORE on an ongoing basis. If the jail opened up more beds, the city would likely find it more convenient to house misdemeanor offenders, who usually don’t spend more than a few days in jail, at that facility.

“If they solve their staffing problems, much like we have with our SPD [hiring] challenges, then we can reset those levels and then focus more on the King County Jail,” Kettle told PubliCola Wednesday. “The problem is, we do have that delta” between the number of people the city wants to jail and the number of available county jail beds, “and we have to address it.”

The full council is scheduled to vote on the SCORE contract on Monday.

According to the staff analysis, “Unless a specific funding source is identified (e.g., potential future KCJ savings), the ongoing costs for the use of SCORE will add to the budget deficit the City faces in 2025.”

PubliCola is supported entirely by readers like you.
CLICK BELOW to become a one-time or monthly contributor.

Support PubliCola

 

2. Last week, SCORE  responded to a records request from PubliCola about a death in custody that occurred at the jail on June 27, 2023. Ismail Mamatov, a 25-year-old man, was transferred to SCORE on June 26 from another facility and booked on theft and failure to appear charges. He’d previously been held for four months at the other facility and had been incarcerated 17 other times at SCORE.

According to a report filed with the state Department of Health and heavily redacted incident reports written by SCORE staff, Mamatov was found unresponsive in his cell at around 3 pm on June 27. Fire department medics were called and Mamatov was declared dead about 3:20 pm. The King County medical examiner determined the death was caused by acute fentanyl and methamphetamine intoxication. 

SCORE’s report said that a review of video surveillance showed Mamatov appeared to share an unknown substance with other cellmates, and was seen snorting that substance, though the report said he had been extensively searched prior to booking. The inmate had been subject to periodic detox checks, SCORE’s report said, but one check was missed just prior to Mamatov’s overdose.  

In its report to the State Department of Health, SCORE lays some blame for missing the 120-day deadline for submitting a death in custody report to the state on the King County Medical Examiner’s Office, noting “Additionally, the autopsy report related to this fatality was not available to SCORE until June 13, 2024, more than 120 days following the incident, which was an additional reason for the extension.”

But according to Kate Cole, a public information officer with Public Health – Seattle & King County, SCORE waited until May 21, 2024 to request a full autopsy report from the medical examiner’s office, and “they received the report from us on 6/12/24.”

The death was one of six at SCORE in a little over a year.

—Erica C. Barnett, Andrew Engelson

 

Fact Check: No, It Doesn’t “Take Five Convictions” Before Youth Can Be Detained for Firearms Felonies

By Erica C. Barnett

At a city council briefing this week, interim Seattle Police Chief Sue Rahr said she had recently learned that “it takes multiple convictions of firearms laws before juveniles are held in detention and held accountable.”

Rahr was responding to comments by Councilmember Maritza Rivera about the need to address gun violence in schools.

“What I have heard,” Rahr continued, “is, it actually takes five convictions before they are actually held in detention. That’s astounding to me. That is absolutely frightening to me.”

Prompted by a reader, we decided to fact-check Rahr’s claim. Turns out, juvenile offenders are absolutely held in detention for firearms offenses, even without a conviction.

According to King County Chief Deputy Prosecutor Jimmy Hung, who heads the juvenile division of the prosecutor’s office, “whether a child is held in detention pre-adjudication is entirely up to the judges, applying the legal standard for holding youth. In practice, I can assure you that children who are charged with felony possession of firearms are regularly held in juvenile detention, even with no prior history.”

SPD spokesman Randy Huserik confirmed that it “Actually, it requires four convictions for this crime before they can be held in a STATE detention facility.” If that is what Rahr meant, it’s significantly less “frightening” and “astounding” than what she seemed to be implying, which is that young people are being convicted of multiple firearms felonies without ever being “held accountable” by being locked up in jail.

PubliCola is supported entirely by readers like you.
CLICK BELOW to become a one-time or monthly contributor.

Support PubliCola

Under state juvenile sentencing guidelines, firearm possession is a Class C felonies subject to local sanctions, which include confinement in juvenile detention for up to 30 days. (More serious felonies come with harsher sanctions, including automatic confinement in a state detention center and sentences of up to five years). After four convictions, young offenders can be held in state juvenile jails, also known as “juvenile rehabilitation” centers, for up to 36 months. These sentencing guidelines have been in place since 1994, when state legislators stiffened penalties for juvenile offenders.

Bob Kettle, head of the council’s public safety committee, said he would add increasing sanctions for kids convicted of firearm possession to the “add that to the list for [the Office of Intergovernmental Relations] to work with Olympia in the upcoming [legislative] sessions, and the list is growing.”

On Thursday, Axios reported that Rahr walked back another statement she made about state law regarding juvenile witnesses,”clarifying that a 2021 state law doesn’t stop police from questioning juveniles who witness crimes.” Previously, Rahr said that the law—which requires police to provide access to an attorney before interrogating minors in criminal investigations—was impeding an investigation into a deadly shooting last month at Garfield High School.