Officers demanded that he get down on the ground. Anderson told them he "was not going to be treated like an animal." But, Anderson says, they did.
Officer Rusty Leslie grabbed at Anderson twice but he backed away both times. According to Anderson's attorney, Leslie then unholstered his service revolver and smashed Anderson on the face. With blood coming from his mouth and ears, Anderson was taken to the King County Jail, where officials refused to book him because he was in such bad shape. He was taken to Harborview Medical Center, where doctors wired shut his broken, pistol-whipped jaw.
What followed for Anderson embodies what many observers say is wrong with how the Seattle Police Department investigates officers accused of abusing members of the public. The concept of police officers investigating themselves for alleged misconduct, though a cozy arrangement for law enforcement, has been the source of great discomfort for civil libertarians, neighborhood activists, minority leaders and defense lawyers for as long as nightstick justice has been fashionable. Not to mention for those on the receiving end.
A close look at what happened to Anderson - just one of hundreds of people every year who claim that Seattle police officers mistreated them - reveals a department where defensiveness, self-righteousness and resistance to change are the defining qualities.
But you can't look too close. SPD is so secretive that it's almost impossible to find out whether an officer has been disciplined, much less the reason or the form of punishment. Unless you've actually filed a complaint, you can't get the smallest shred of information from any internal investigation file. High-priced attorneys hired by the city's insurance company make sure these files are seen by as few outsiders as possible.
Taken together, these forces have led to a profound questioning of the department's desire and ability to weed out bad cops. In 1992, officers accused of misconduct were found guilty only 5.4 percent of the time, making Seattle one of the few major U.S. cities with a rate below 10 percent. The department actually looked into only 4 out every 10 complaints.
"Right now there are a lot of people in the community who do not regard [SPD's disciplinary system] as being fair," said Fred Diamondstone, a cooperating attorney with the ACLU of Washington. "The discipline process needs to have light shined on it. It needs to be opened up."
SPD's protectionist culture also has created a sense of futility in the minds of people who believe they have been mistreated by the police, but who fear their grievances will be ignored by a department where officers close ranks when accused of wrongdoing, and where preserving the careers of cops competes with preserving the rights of citizens.
Seattle police officers have been known to wad up citizens' complaints and throw them into the garbage can before the citizens walked out of the police department, says Jolinda Stephens, a steering committee member of Mothers Against Police Harassment, a Seattle watchdog organization that assists police-brutality victims. None of the more than 20 complaints it has helped to file has been upheld by SPD, including at least one beating allegation.
"People don't file complaints because they know nothing will happen. They simply have no faith and they have no reason to have faith," Stephens said. "They know that nobody will believe them."
'They Were Covering Their Asses'
Shortly after his jaw was broken in the Sea Galley parking lot, James Anderson filed a complaint with SPD's internal investigations section (IIS), which has its own offices but is staffed by regular SPD officials on rotation. Anderson asked IIS officials a question that he already could answer: Did Officer Leslie used excessive force that night in October? What Anderson got was a legal nightmare.
Though SPD's top brass initially decided that Leslie should not have bashed Anderson in the face, Leslie contested the ruling. Despite hearing testimony from witnesses backing up Anderson's story, a departmental appeals board overturned the initial finding, in part, because he and his friends "had been drinking that evening," according to a letter Anderson got from Police Chief Patrick Fitzsimons.
"What is the burden of proof?" said Anderson's attorney, Lem Howell, who is nationally recognized for his work on police misconduct cases. "Do you have to have 20 nuns and five priests witnessing the incident?"
Adding insult to injury, Anderson was charged with obstructing a police officer - six months after he filed his complaint against Officer Leslie.
"They were covering their asses," Howell says.
The city tried Anderson three separate times in Municipal Court on the obstruction charge: there was a hung jury the first time; conviction the second, though it was overturned on appeal; and, finally, acquittal.
"He's not a murderer. The first trial should have been the end of it," Howell said. "Think of all the city's resources that were expended on this case."
Anderson has sued Officer Leslie and the city of Seattle for monetary damages. The case is scheduled to go before a court-appointed arbitrator this July 7.
SPD has a policy not to discuss active lawsuits in which officers are a party, said Officer Sean O'Donnell, a department spokesperson.
A Recipe for Mistrust
The Rodney King beating probably has done more to elevate the dual issues of police brutality and self-inspection into the national consciousness than the millions of misconduct complaints and lawsuits filed every year in the U.S. And while Seattle is still waiting for a police beating to be captured on film, and while SPD is viewed as being relatively innocuous compared to the departments in Los Angeles, Chicago, Miami and elsewhere, many people who keep their eye on SPD's self-policing program say there are big problems.
"We give the police extraordinary powers. But there are no checks and balances. We think there needs to be," said Marc Auerbach of the Puget Sound Coalition for Police Accountability, a two-year-old police watchdog group. "In no other place in this society do we accept this sort of system."
When a citizen complains to SPD, the department serves as its own investigator, prosecutor, defense attorney, judge and jury. Then it seals the files forever, purging some records after three years. The system is viewed as being even more closed and more secretive than its equivalent within the federal government, where an "inspector general" in each agency is free to investigate wrongdoing and incompetence and report findings and recommendations directly to Congress.
Beyond an outside auditor who reviews internal investigations but is powerless to recommend findings of guilt or discipline, SPD handles misconduct allegations in a complete vacuum. You need a court order to disgorge the investigation files - even files that show an officer was found guilty of misconduct and punished.
"When the citizenry is closed out of the process, we must accept what the police say. That is not a prospect I am comfortable with," said Julya Hampton, the top attorney for the American Civil Liberties Union of Washington.
"When you file a complaint, all you are told is 'We looked into it - trust us.' You are given nothing more than that," Hampton said. "That's a natural breeding ground for contempt of the process. And a system as closed as the one in Seattle gives a green light to those few officers who abuse their position and power."
Hampton is one of a handful of people who have recommended reforms they think would make the department's internal investigations system more effective in determining an officer's guilt, as well as more accountable to the taxpayers.
Since the landmark "Bell" study of November 1989 revealed that IIS had serious troubles, the Seattle Human Rights Commission, the ACLU, Mothers Against Police Harassment and the Puget Sound Coalition for Police Accountability all have been pushing for a less secretive, more accountable and more fair police department.
Independent auditor Terrence Carroll, hired by the City Council last year to review the IIS, proposed broad reforms earlier this month intended to upgrade and update the unit. Most of the ideas are not new ones; they were in Carroll's initial report issued last October but were never acted upon. (see "Auditor to SPD..."). Many of the ideas have been repeated independently by two or more organizations.
"I think there are things that we can improve," said Susan Crane, head staffer to Seattle's Public Safety Committee, which oversees SPD matters. "We still have a way to go."
While it seems City Hall is listening, SPD isn't. Despite reams of studies, recommendations and proposals, SPD has only made what some have called cosmetic changes at IIS. Among them, the department:
Reformers Fight Losing Battle
Still left unresolved are larger problems perceived to be at the heart of why much of the public, particularly in the African-American and other minority communities, doesn't trust the department to do the right thing when investigating citizen complaints.
Standing in the way of unbiased investigations, critics say, is the department's military-style, chain-of-command system that keeps IIS from deciding an officer's guilt and recommending discipline. Instead, these decisions are left to the officer's bosses, opening the door to the forces of favoritism and politics.
"The chain-of-command's participation in the review of these cases is totally ridiculous," said Seattle attorney Frank Shoichet, who is representing a woman claiming she was sexually abused by a Seattle police officer who ultimately left the force after other women complained about him. "What can the police chief and other superiors hope to know more than IIS?"
Don van Blaricom, a former Bellevue police chief and frequently called-upon expert witness in police brutality cases, agrees. "People in the chain of command are going to be applying their own philosophy to [investigations]."
Despite the fact that Carroll and other experts have recommended that this procedure be stopped, police Capt. Toni McWashington, head of IIS, thinks it's a good idea.
"Each person may see a case differently. I think it is imperative that the chief has as many opinions as he can get," McWashington said, adding that it is "imperative that we [at IIS] stay out of the circle of making determinations in the cases we investigate."
Also viewed as being problematic is the way SPD questions officers who stand accused of misconduct. Instead of conducting face-to-face interviews, IIS officials allow officers to answer the charges in writing. In cases when "minor" misconduct is alleged and the investigation is handled by superiors, officers are allowed to see the written complaints filed by citizens, providing an apparent advantage in piecing together past events.
"The institutional method of investigating these complaints accords the officer so much deference. No one else who does anything wrong in this society has those sort of privileges," attorney Shoichet said. "They cook the books."
Diamondstone agreed. "No other investigation anywhere is conducted like that - and for good reason. It allows the officer the opportunity to make sure that his or her story 'fits,' or to figure out what his line of attack against the complaint is going to be. In no case should there be that kind of opportunity."
Like the chain-of-command discipline system, SPD's method of questioning officers resembles military protocol, not traditional governmental practices.
The Less Scrutiny the Better
Further adding to public suspicion is the department's obsessive concern with privacy. Outside of certain high-ranking police officials, no one can see an internal investigation file without a court order. And the only people with a reasonable chance of gaining a court order are attorneys representing people claiming they were mistreated. Even then, it's no open-and-shut case.
"The department uses obstructionist tactics to make sure you don't get the files," said Seattle attorney Lynne Wilson, who has handled high-profile police brutality cases. "They fight tooth and nail."
Even though the Washington State Supreme Court has ruled on more than one occasion that IIS files must be released to attorneys who need them, they say SPD continues to block access at every turn.
"In contrast to its liberal image, the city continues to tolerate defense tactics in police misconduct cases that are scandalous," Shoichet said. "On a cost basis, they believe it pays to be obstreperous instead of paying claims. But what they don't take into account is the long-term effects on the public's respect for the police. Being a police officer isn't as valued quite as it once was."
Even when attorneys gain access to files, they are forbidden to discuss their contents with anyone outside the courtroom.
"It might be a natural reaction to protect yourself. Or it might be a management decision to send a message to your officers that you don't release files willy-nilly," said Hampton of the ACLU. "Either way, they operate under the assumption that they need protection. I think that assumption is wrong."
Several lawyers told the Free Press that because of the city's obstructionist tactics, they take only the most grievous cases of police abuse - cases they believe they can win and that likely will have the most societal impact.
Leo Poort, a police department attorney, could not be reached for comment.
As hard as the department fights to keep IIS files out of the hands of lawyers, it fights even harder to prevent them from being released to the public at large.
"You have to look at the rights of the officer," said Capt. McWashington, head of IIS. "I don't think anyone who is employed at a place where there is an internal system [to investigate wrongdoing] would want their personnel files to become a public record."
Carroll, the police auditor, recommended earlier this month that files showing an officer was guilty of misconduct be available to the public, not just attorneys. Such a change, however, would have to win the approval of the Seattle Police Officers Guild, whose contract forbids the public release of IIS files (see "Auditor to SPD...").
Union Busts Progress
In general, the police union is viewed as being a major impediment to changes in how IIS is run. In its latest 3-year contract signed with the city this spring, for example, the union won a new provision calling for an arbitrator to decide whether a civilian review board should be created. The result is to take that decision away from the City Council, which otherwise would have the power to enhance civilian oversight of the department.
"It's one more obstacle that's been put in place to stop the momentum for more civilian oversight," the ACLU's Hampton said. "The union is a heavy hitter. And this certainly is an important issue to them.
"It has long been the department's culture to run in a closed system," Hampton said. "The union is going to work to prevent any changes to that system. But I don't know if that is in the best interest of its members."
Whether or not change would be good for police officers, union officials know most people don't think police misconduct is a big problem, said Martin Munguia of the ACLU's police practices project.
"The union knows that most people want to see police out there on the street and doing their job, and that they are not worried about what force the police are using and that they might screw up," Munguia said. "The guild is only following tradition. We are working against tradition in calling for accountability."
The head of the union, Seattle police Sgt. Ed Striedinger, did not respond to a request for an interview.
While Striedinger and the rest of the police establishment vehemently oppose civilian review boards, police watchdogs are equally as united in their support.
"We all suffer because there is not enough civilian review," Hampton said. "We all suffer in immeasurable ways.
At least 30 of the country's 50 largest cities have civilian review boards that examine how citizen complaints are handled. "Cities that haven't implemented citizen review boards are out of step with the national trend," Sam Walker, a University of Nebraska-Omaha criminal justice professor who conducted a major study on the issue in 1991, was quoted at the time as saying.
Seattle needs to get in step by creating a civilian review board that is elected by the public, has subpoena power and can influence how officers are investigated and disciplined, said Marc Auerbach of the police accountability coalition.
"Some people say that would handcuff the police, that they would be afraid to respond effectively to criminal activity," Auerbach said. "But this is a democracy. If you are going to give someone special power, you have to have special accountability."
Auerbach's group, the ACLU, the Seattle Human Rights Commission and Mothers Against Police Harassment all have called for a civilian review board. But Police Chief Fitzsimons and the police union are firmly against the idea.
Perhaps the biggest problem cited by watchdogs, however, is a growing distrust of the department's sincerity in investigating officer wrongdoing. With only 50 sustained complaints out of 921 filed last year, people ask themselves, "Why bother going through the motions?"
"I went in with a friend to file a complaint and we were laughed at," said Stephens of Mothers Against Police Harassment. "The reaction we got was 'I don't believe what you're saying.' They didn't even write anything down."
With this sort of story going around town, it's no wonder that watchdogs say SPD must improve its method of investigating complaints in order for its public image to have any chance of improving.
"We don't think you can have good relations if you don't have trust, and you can't have trust without accountability," Auerbach said. "If people knew that they had some recourse, there would be a better relationship with the police."
Capt. McWashington of IIS says SPD "has worked hard to ensure that the public knows the facts and information" about how complaints are investigated, and that she has spoken at a number of community forums. But watchdogs say more is needed.
"[SPD] is a paramilitary organization where officers have close personal bonds with their own code of conduct and code of silence. They do not wish to be subject to the review of anyone else," attorney Frank Shoichet said. "We have gotten away from thinking of the police department as being part of the community."