Eleven of the 13 people who allegedly participated in killing Florida A&M drum major Robert Champion have been charged with “a hazing resulting in death,” a low-grade felony. The two others are accused of misdemeanors.

  You can’t blame Champion’s family for being disappointed and a bit confused.

  Champion was singled out for an attack, then beaten until he died. That it occurred during a hazing doesn’t mean it should be handled differently from any other violent homicide, yet it is being handled differently. Way differently.

  Not one of the 13 suspects was booked for murder or even plain old manslaughter, a second-degree felony that can bring up to 15 years in prison. By contrast, causing a death by hazing is only a third-degree felony for which the maximum term is six years.

  In other words, a gang-style lethal assault in Florida is more leniently appraised when it’s a moronic college ritual gone awry. Six years behind bars isn’t light time, but it’s much better than the high end of a manslaughter conviction.

  What do you think would have happened if Champion had been killed by a mob of strangers in a barroom or on a street corner? For starters, authorities wouldn’t have taken more than five months to make an arrest, especially if they had the names of everyone involved. You can also be sure that the defendants in such a case wouldn’t be charged with “hazing”—they’d be facing much heavier felonies.

  Here’s how Champion died. The 26-year-old man was made to walk down the aisle of a chartered bus that was parked outside an Orlando hotel, while fellow band members (and possibly others) repeatedly kicked and punched him. Evidently, this is what passed for dear tradition within the famed A&M Marching 100, now in disciplinary limbo.

  Eventually, Champion collapsed. Later somebody dialed 911: “One of our drum majors is on the bus, and he’s not breathing.… He’s in my hands, ma’am. He’s cold.”

  If Champion was cold to the touch, it was likely he’d been down for a while.

  Dying among his own bandmates after a football-game performance.

  In December, less than a month after the incident, the Orange-Osceola Medical Examiner’s Office ruled Champion’s death was a homicide, the autopsy showing “extensive contusions of his chest, arms, shoulder and back with extensive hemorrhage.”

  Although coroners found no bone fractures or damage to Champion’s internal organs, there was “significant rapid blood loss” from the injuries he’d received. The cause of death was reported as “hemorrhagic shock due to soft tissue hemorrhage, incurred by blunt force trauma sustained during a hazing incident.”

  So it was manifest from the beginning that Champion hadn’t fallen down the steps of the bus 20 or 30 times. He’d been battered—and not by teenagers gone wild. Most of the suspects are men in their 20s.

  The state of Florida didn’t need a special anti-hazing law in order to prosecute. Long-standing criminal statutes specifically address assaults that end in death. Nowhere in this country is it legal for 13 persons—or six, or two, or one—to strike another person if he or she isn’t a threat. Theoretically, it shouldn’t matter to prosecutors whether the assailants are wearing band uniforms, fraternity jerseys, or the do-rag of a street gang. Orange-Osceola State Attorney Lawson Lamar said the Champion case is complicated, and investigators didn’t find sufficient evidence for a murder charge.

  Then how about manslaughter, at least?

  Said Lamar: “We do not have a blow or a shot or a knife thrust that killed Mr. Champion. It is an aggregation of things.…”

  In fact, Champion suffered repeated blows. Identifying which of the band members delivered the most—or the most damaging—won’t be easy. It seldom is when multiple participants are involved. But Lamar said the killing fits Florida’s statute against hazing, a widely banned practice that he described as “bullying with a tradition—a tradition that we cannot bear in America.”

  It would be nice to think that the publicity about the attack on Champion will deter future hazing in high schools, colleges, and the military. So far, the prospects aren’t so good. Two months after the FAMU killing, two male students seeking to join the Kappa Alpha Psi fraternity at Youngstown State University in Ohio were “initiated” by being beaten with fists, a paddle, and a wire laundry hanger. The abuse continued over a period of 12 days, after which one of the victims required a ventilator to breathe. Nine men, only one a current YSU student, were indicted.

  Here’s the difference: The Ohio defendants aren’t being charged with hazing but, rather, with felony assault.

  A grown-up charge for a grown-up crime, as it should be.

  And they’d be facing far worse if one of their victims had died, the way Robert Champion did.

  READY, AIM, FIRE

  December 9, 2001

  Gun Lobby’s Interests Before Public Safety

  This is some wacky war on terrorism.

  Incredibly, the U.S. Justice Department has forbidden the FBI from checking its own records to see whether any of the 1,200 persons detained since September 11 had bought guns.

  The information is sitting in computer files, and FBI agents are eager to examine them. But Attorney General John Ashcroft, a hard-line critic of firearms laws and background checks, opposes using gun-purchase records to investigate potential terrorists in the United States.

  He’s the same guy who advocated detaining hundreds of foreign nationals without criminal charges; the same guy who pushed for peremptory authority to wiretap individuals without court approval; the same guy who, after the slaughter of September 11, solemnly vowed that the government would do everything in its power to protect Americans from future attacks.

  Everything, apparently, except offend the National Rifle Association.

  In a move that has exasperated FBI officials and angered law-enforcement organizations, the Justice Department has decided that federal gun records cannot be used to investigate individuals, even in terrorism cases. “Absurd and unconscionable” was the reaction of Larry Todd, a California police chief who serves on the firearms committee of the International Association of the Chiefs of Police. The group has formally objected to Ashcroft’s closing the files to investigators.

  Currently, firearms dealers fax applications from prospective buyers to the FBI or state police agencies. Computers search to find out whether the applicant is a convicted felon or fits into another category of persons prohibited to buy guns. Those include illegal immigrants and foreigners who have been in the United States less than 90 days. The FBI says that many detainees fall into those two groups.

  In past criminal probes, the agency has used its gun-purchase data to determine whether someone was mistakenly allowed to buy a weapon when he or she should have been denied permission. Five days after the terrorist attacks on New York and Washington, D.C., the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms sent the names of 186 detainees to the FBI. Two of them, it turned out, had received approval to buy guns. The very next day, however, the FBI was informed that reviews of gun records no longer would be allowed. The Justice Department said that the policy reversal was based on a narrow new interpretation of the law.

  FBI officials believed the law gave clear authority and immediately asked to have the ban reconsidered. They failed.

  According to The New York Times, the Justice Department’s trigger man was Assistant Attorney General Viet Dinh, a political appointee and a pal of Ashcroft. Dinh’s ruling was a masterpiece of hypocrisy. He stated that the background checks being sought by terrorism investigators would violate the privacy rights of foreigners, including those being detained.

  In other words, we’ll lock you up with no trial, interrogate you with no lawyer present, secretly wiretap your friends and relatives—but heaven forbid we invade your privacy by checking to see whether you’ve bought any guns during your stay in the United States.

  That stupefying contradiction is merely Ashcroft playing politics. As a senator, he staunchly fronted for the gun lobby, which reciprocated generously. According to
the Violence Policy Center, National Rifle Association sources contributed nearly $340,000 to his last campaign.

  Among Ashcroft’s favorite targets was the Brady Law, which gave authorities the power to screen firearms buyers for past crimes. The legislation was welcomed by police and has blocked thousands of felons from purchasing handguns and other deadly weapons.

  Ashcroft remains unpersuaded. Now the country’s top cop, he’s seizing the opportunity to impose his pro-NRA agenda on the Justice Department. His timing couldn’t be worse. These days, the sight of a box cutter makes people jumpy. Extending gun-toting rights to visiting foreigners isn’t likely to be a popular idea.

  Notwithstanding Ashcroft’s sudden concern for their privacy, the detainees remain central to the September 11 investigation. If some turn out to have Al Qaeda connections, it would be helpful to know whether they’ve been building an arsenal while they’re here.

  The attorney general might say it’s being nosy to check, but most Americans will think it’s crazy not to.

  November 23, 2003

  Legislators’ Attempt to Block Police from Ownership Records Absurd

  If you’re a prosecutor or a police officer in Florida, here are some names to remember:

  Juan-Carlos Planas of Westchester; Carl Domino of Jupiter; Ken Sorensen of Key Largo; Mark Mahon, John Quinones, and Mike Davis of Jacksonville; Curtis Richardson and Lorraine Ausley of Tallahassee; Don Davis of Naples; Dennis Ross of Lakeland; Jeffrey Kottkamp of Cape Coral; Kevin Ambler of Lutz; and Gaton Catens of Miami.

  These are not friends of law enforcement.

  These are state legislators who are trying to make it as difficult as possible to trace the ownership of guns found at crime scenes. Every pistol-packing felon in Florida should write these knuckleheads a thank-you note.

  Last week, the House Judiciary Committee—on which the above-named politicians serve—okayed a bill that would ban police from maintaining computerized lists of gun sales and owners for more than 30 days. If passed by the Legislature next spring, the law will strip authorities of an important crime-solving tool for no other reason but politics.

  Currently, Florida police keep databases of firearm-sales records from pawnshops and some gun dealers. When one turns up at a crime scene or in a suspect’s possession, its origin can be traced by typing the serial number into a computer.

  The paranoid droolers at the National Rifle Association have long opposed police efforts to computerize gun records, saying it’s an iron-fisted step toward totalitarianism. According to the NRA’s propaganda, which reads like the National Lampoon, the same government that can’t locate thousands of visa violators (including terrorists) is somehow capable of tracking down and confiscating every lawfully owned firearm in America.

  To peddle this loony Orwellian fantasy, NRA lobbyists in Florida dredged up a couple of goobers named Dennis Baxley and Lindsay Harrington, Republican legislators from Ocala and Punta Gorda, respectively. Baxley and Harrington “cosponsored” the anti-cop bill that went to the House panel. As originally penned by the NRA, the legislation invoked the names of Adolf Hitler and Fidel Castro as examples of despots who espoused gun controls.

  Get a load of Baxley: “We’re at a point in our history where the government is trying to slowly take away our rights, piece by piece, and I’m trying to stop that. By accumulating all this [gun] data, it could fall into the wrong hands. And that could be a treacherous thing.”

  Don’t bother to ask him in what way a sales receipt for a .38 Special might be put to nefarious use and into whose evil hands it might fall. And don’t ask if he can name a single instance when it’s happened, because he can’t. Not even Marion Hammer, the NRA’s hatchet woman in Tallahassee, provided lawmakers with one example of a law-abiding citizen being “harassed” or “abused” because of computerized sales data. Police, however, can tell lots of stories about crimes being solved because they were able to swiftly track the ownership of a weapon. One recent example: Pawnshop sales records helped detectives connect a Miami Beach man accused of shooting three of his neighbors with the gun used in the attack.

  The notion that firearms buyers have a constitutional right to anonymity is a fiction promoted by the NRA, and one consistently not embraced by the courts. The government already keeps track of the land we own, the people we marry, the children we have, and the money we make. Most reasonable citizens don’t have a problem providing their names when pawning or purchasing a handgun. But the NRA fuels its recruiting with rabid fear, not facts, and there’s no shortage of hayseed politicians who are eager to take its money and go rant for the cause.

  It’s impossible to overstate the brainless lunacy of the proposed law, which would penalize police departments up to $5 million for keeping computerized gun lists.

  Yet, at the same time, law-enforcement agencies would be allowed to obtain the very same firearm-sales and ownership information—but only on paper. What is now a 30-second piece of keyboard detective work would become an all-day chore, requiring manual reviews of thousands of records.

  Obviously, the intent of the law is to discourage gun tracking by police, especially in busy, understaffed departments. The result will be more unsolved crimes, less evidence upon which to prosecute violent criminals, and more acquittals in court.

  And Republicans claim to be the law-and-order party?

  Every armed robber, carjacker, and gangbanger in Florida will sleep easier, if Rep. Baxley and the others get their way.

  May 8, 2005

  With New Law, Shooters May Beat the Rap

  If you’re a defense attorney in Florida, you’ve got to be excited by the new Protection of Persons and Property bill passed by the Legislature and signed by Gov. Jeb Bush.

  This is the bogus “stand your ground” law that allows people to start shooting wherever they happen to be, whenever they happen to feel threatened. The measure was written by the National Rifle Association, but the National Association of Criminal Defense Lawyers couldn’t have done a slicker job.

  Starting October 1, any person who is confronted has no “duty to retreat” and “has the right to stand his or her ground and meet force with force, including deadly force if he or she reasonably believes it is necessary to do so to prevent death or great bodily harm.…”

  Every gangbanger in the state should write a thank-you note to the NRA. For years, street thugs have tried without much luck to use self-defense as an excuse for their bloody shoot-outs—and now it’s right there in the statute books: If you get fired at, dawg, you can fire back.

  Better yet, the law is so purposefully slack that if you even imagine you’re going to be fired at, you can pull out your legally purchased AK-47 and open up. Your attorney will say you had a “reasonable belief” that you were in danger, and it’s hard to dispute. Being a gangster is a full-time dangerous gig.

  Thanks to the nitwits in Tallahassee, the courts could be seeing a lot more cases in which self-defense is creatively invoked. “You don’t even have to be that creative,” quips Richard Sharpstein, a top Miami trial lawyer. He predicts “an enormous swell” in assault and homicide cases in which the main defense is self-defense.

  Except for generating more political contributions from the NRA, passing the law was utterly pointless. Floridians have never been too shy about shooting each other. The motivation is more often an insult than a threat.

  We’ve got one of the worst murder rates in the country, and the vast majority of those killings are committed by family members or acquaintances of the victims. In the relatively few cases where citizens have killed a menacing criminal, the justice system has been solid in its support. The head of the state prosecutors’ association said that he knows of no instance when a law-abiding person has been hauled to court for using deadly force to protect himself or his family—at home or elsewhere. Even the main sponsor of the new law, Rep. Dennis Baxley of Ocala, couldn’t cite a single case of a lawful firearm owner being locked up for shooting someone in self-d
efense. But Florida lawmakers seldom let the facts deter them from sucking up to rich special-interest lobbies such as the NRA.

  By broadly expanding the so-called castle doctrine to public places—whether it’s the Publix, Dolphins stadium, or the neighborhood pub—the Legislature has opened what Sharpstein calls a “Pandora’s box of excuses and justifications” for violent assault.

  Deterrent? Yeah, right.

  Long ago I interviewed a member of the infamous Outlaws motorcycle gang who was doing a prison stretch for fatally stabbing a man during a bar fight. Naturally, the Outlaw said he’d acted in self-defense, an argument that didn’t fly in court. “Today he probably wouldn’t even be charged,” says Fred Haddad, a prominent Broward defense attorney involved in the case.

  Like Sharpstein, Haddad thinks the Legislature has made it easier to try the “self-defense” defense. “Where it’s really going to help is the cases of those who act first” and claim they feared for their safety, he says.

  In the absence of any demonstrable need for broadening the self-defense provisions, Rep. Baxley and others were left to argue that it would be a powerful deterrent to criminals, who would henceforth be reluctant to accost potentially armed citizens in public places.

  Oh, sure. The death penalty doesn’t deter these creeps. Mandatory hard time for using a gun doesn’t discourage them. They aren’t overly worried about the cops. But the remote possibility of being winged by a little old lady on her way to the ATM—that’s supposed to scare a hard-core badass into giving up his predatory ways and going straight.

  Only in the inverted universe of Tallahassee would such laughable nonsense carry the day.

  Implicitly encouraging armed citizens to “stand their ground” when they could get away doesn’t make the streets safer. It invites tragedy for the crime victims as well as bystanders. The bad guys surely aren’t scared. Ironically, more of them could be out on the streets because of the new law, which will make it easier for shooters to beat the rap in court.