|
Who’s
to Judge?
By
Erin Sullivan
Photos by Leif Zurmuhlen
Critics
wonder if the state Commission on Judicial Conduct is fulfilling
its mandate to make judges accountable for their actions
Ron
Loeber likes to talk about history. Loeber, a small-businessman
living in Knox, peppers his conversations with examples from
American and European history. He can quote parts of the Gettysberg
Address, pretty much verbatim, and he refers to voluminous
texts on legal matters, case law, historical incidents and
dead politicians when making a point.
Especially when he’s making a point about what he likes to
call the “divine right of kings.”
“Eight
hundred years ago, in a place in England called Runnymeade,”
he says, “a bunch of guys got together and they had their
swords poised, and they were about to sever the head from
the body of a man named John who called himself king. Unless
he abided by and signed a document they presented to him:
the first oath of office, called the Magna Carta.”
In 17th-century Europe, the expression “divine right” was
used to argue the notion that kings ruled because they were
annointed by God, making them the indisputable supreme rulers
of the land. Accountable to no one, many kings let power go
to their heads and—like King John—forced their despotic wills
on their subjects. Loeber likes to explain how, in 1215, a
group of barons and landowners, fed up with the abuses of
the monarchy, finally put an end to the absolute power of
the king. They dragged King John into a field at swordpoint
and threatened to murder him on the spot if he refused to
sign the Magna Carta, which stripped him and his successors
of their claim to “divine right.” The Magna Carta forced the
king to uphold an oath of office when he came into power,
and just as importantly, it laid out the rules for a new judicial
system under which a man’s life, liberty and property could
not be forcibly taken from him without a trial of his peers—due
process of
the law—in a court of the land. The document laid the groundwork
for the modern British, and eventually American, forms of
government.
Centuries later in modern-day Knox, Albany County, there are
no kings. But Loeber says that doesn’t stop some government
leaders from exercising their divine rights, as he says he
found out in the late 1990s, when he was involved in a property
dispute with a local developer.
“My
father had sold his farm,” he explains. “When he sold it,
he exempted from the sale the house that he lived in and the
plot of land it was on. He created in the deed an easement
with the right to use, and the right to maintain, a water-supply
system over near the pump house.”
Originally, the purchaser of the property, Charles Rao, said
he would maintain the property as a horse farm. But when the
town of Guilderland raised the taxes on the 105-acre parcel,
Rao sold it to Robert Marini Builders. Marini, in turn, developed
the property into a subdivision consisting of 63 individual
building lots. Loeber says that his father’s easement on the
deed restricted Marini’s ability to realize his vision for
the property, so the builder attempted to purchase the easement
rights from the family. The Loebers declined, according to
Loeber, and “[Marini] said, ‘Screw you, then we’re going to
take it away from you in court.’ And he accused me of attempted
extortion!”
According to court records, Marini had his lawyer draw up
a new deed for the property, and named Loeber as a third party
in a suit against Rao. Loeber planned to represent himself,
but when he arrived in court in November 1997, state Supreme
Court Judge Joseph Teresi made a default judgment against
him. Loeber was ordered by the judge to sign the deed—and
property rights—over to Marini. “I told him I wouldn’t do
it,” Loeber says. “That I wouldn’t give up my rights.”
Loeber appeared before Teresi two more times on the matter,
and on each occasion, he tried to no avail to defend the merits
of his case. On Dec. 30, 1997, Teresi found Loeber in contempt
of court for refusing to sign the deed as ordered by the court,
and sentenced him to six months in jail.
“They
took me to the basement of the courthouse and they strip-searched
me, and they shackled me with leg irons and chains,” Loeber
recalls. “Then they came back two hours later and said, ‘Are
you ready to sign the deed now?’ ”
Loeber still refused to sign the deed and was brought to Albany
County Jail, where he was held for 45 days without ever having
a hearing. He was held until another court acted on a petition
for his release brought by his attorney.
“Two
hours before I was released, Joe Teresi signed an order naming
the [county] sheriff receiver of my property,” Loeber says
bitterly. “And he directed the sheriff to sign for it.”
“He
held no trial and summarily gave my water easement to others
without just compensation,” Loeber wrote in a complaint to
the state Commission on Judicial Conduct on Dec. 15, 1998.
“In effect, he denied me my fundamental, inherent and constitutionally
secured rights to due process, liberty and prosperity. . .
. He has violated my rights to a fair trial. He has held me
to a procedural standard which he would not meet, and one
to which he did not hold my adversaries. His decisions and
conduct were not fair. They were biased, and he was prejudicial.”
Loeber sought relief for his losses in federal court, but
found that unlike King John, Judge Teresi was not going to
be skewered for lording his power over the little people.
“I
sued everybody,” Loeber says. “I sued the judge, the two lawyers,
Rao and Marini, the sheriff and the county. The judge was
dismissed from the lawsuit. They called it ‘judicial immunity.’
I call it the ‘divine right of kings.’ If the judge cannot
be held liable for his willful actions against us, what reason
does he have to do things right?”
Justice Teresi was not available for comment on this story.
He was presiding over a murder trial and was not able to return
calls.
In 1998, Loeber joined the ranks of some 22,000 New Yorkers
who have filed formal complaints against a judge with the
state Commission on Judicial Conduct since 1975. The commission,
an 11-member body mandated by state law to examine complaints
against the state’s jurists, was permanently established in
1976 by a special amendment to the state Constitution to “receive,
initiate, investigate and hear complaints with respect to
the conduct, qualifications, fitness to perform or performance
of official duties of any judge or justice in the unified
court system.” Four of the commission members are appointed
by the governor, one by the temporary president of the Senate,
one by the Assembly speaker, one by the minority leader of
the Assembly and three by the chief judge of the Court of
Appeals.
Though the commission is intended to be the watchdog of the
judiciary, the organization has lately become the subject
of media criticism. The Times Union recently completed
a five-part editorial series on the commission called “Unequal
Justice,” and the New York Daily News has critiqued
it in its six-month “Judging the Judges” editorial series,
which complained that “incompetent or unethical” judges are
rarely sanctioned.
In 1981 and 1987, when the commission was still quite young,
it was the subject of public hearings in the state Legislature
to determine whether it was living up to its duties. In the
1981 hearing before the Senate and Assembly judiciary committees,
Sen. Douglas Barclay, chair of the Senate committee, noted
that “the work of the commission
. . . requires periodic legislative review of its charter.”
In the 1987 hearing, commission administrator Gerald Stern
acknowledged that the commission may be dealing with some
“minor charges or allegations [that]. . . the commission has
not followed its legislative mandate.” Again, it was indicated
that the best way to evaluate how well the commission was
performing was through periodic legislative hearings.
Since that time, there has not been another public legislative
hearing to evaluate the commission.
In 1989, then-state Comptroller Edward Regan attempted to
look into whether the commission was properly investigating
complaints brought to it, but he was thwarted by the confidentiality
rules that cloak the commission’s operations in secrecy. Regan
said that without access to the transcripts, hearings, complaints
and evidence submitted to the commission, it would be virtually
impossible to determine whether the panel was functioning
properly. But judiciary law only allows limited access to
the commission’s records by the governor, the state Senate
and the Commission on Judicial Nomination.
“Without
an effective system of checks and balances, the potential
exists that the commission may be abusing its authority by
wrongfully dismissing complaints against judges without cause
and justification,” Regan told reporters at the time.
Since then, the commission has been scrutinized from time
to time in the media, and Chief Judge Judith Kaye appointed
a special inspector general to investigate fiduciary appointments
by the courts, but the Legislature has pretty much let the
commission go about its business without public examination
of its activities.
According to Gerald Stern, the commission’s administrator,
“not much happened” as a result of either the 1981 or 1987
legislative hearings, and he’s not sure whether there would
be much result should the Legislature hold one now.
“I
suppose they would look at our statute, and how it could be
amended,” he comments. But the thing that would have a significant
impact on the organization’s function is money. Right now
the commission is operating on a scant budget of $2.12 million
per year. Ten years ago, its budget was $2.26 million. The
commission used to employ nearly 40 people. Today its staff
consists of 27, only six of whom are investigators.
“We
have made the point that we need more funding,” Stern says.
“We are lacking investigators, we could do a more comprehensive
job in the field-investigation cases if we had those investigators.
We are lacking also in the nonpersonnel services part of our
budget. We have to curtail travel and equipment because we
come very close each year to running out of money. This year
we were told not to because the budget would not permit it.
Could we be function better with more money? Yes. But how
is it working? It’s working reasonably well. The system is
working well.”
Elena Ruth Sassower disagrees. Vehemently.
Sassower is cofounder and coordinator of the Center for Judicial
Accountability, a White Plains, N.Y., organization dedicated
to fighting political manipulation and dishonesty in the judiciary.
Sassower is an unrelenting campaigner for reform of the judicial-oversight
process, and she’s something of a court-reform zealot. She
becomes very emotional when she discusses her work to expose
what she believes is a corrupt judiciary-
oversight process. She has a tendency to bang on the table
for emphasis, and she punctuates her speeches on the commission’s
work with what she calls “readily verifiable evidence of corruption.”
She practically shakes with outrage when she describes how
her work with the center, which was formally incorporated
in 1994, has been overlooked and/or dismissed by the commission,
the state’s Chief Judge Judith Kaye, Attorney General Eliot
Spitzer, Gov. George Pataki, practically every state agency
involved with the judiciary, and the state’s Appellate Court.
Through Sassower and her mother, Doris Sassower, the Center
for Judicial Accountability has filed numerous complaints
with the commission. (Donna Sassower is a nationally renowned
equal-rights lawyer whose license was unceremoniously withdrawn
in 1991, which the center believes was a result of her “whistleblowing”
activities.) Between 1989 and 1994, alone, the center filed
eight conduct complaints, all of which were dismissed.
Frustrated that none of the petitions was being investigated—though
they made such serious charges as perjury, collusion and complicity—the
Sassowers sued. Doris Sassower sued the Commission on Judicial
Conduct, and her case was dismissed. After several attempts
to keep the case against the commission alive, Sassower eventually
was barred from initiating any further proceedings relating
to the charges brought in the case.
After her mother was barred from bringing suit, Elena Sassower
followed in her footsteps. In 1999, Sassower brought a suit
against the commission in Supreme Court, New York County,
in which she called for the governor to appoint a special
prosecutor to investigate the commission’s role in judicial
corruption and pattern of dismissing “facially meritorious”
complaints. In 2000, Manhattan Supreme Court Justice William
Wetzel dismissed the case and enjoined Sassower and the Center
for Judicial Accountability from “related” actions before
the court.
Sassower appealed the decision, and on Dec. 18, 2001, the
Supreme Court of the State of New York, Appellate Division,
First Department, dismissed Sassower’s petition without relief.
The court said that Sassower “lacks standing” to sue the commission
and upheld Wetzel’s dismissal.
On Jan. 17, 2002, Sassower made a motion for reargument of
her suit before the Appellate Court. In her affidavit for
reargument, she states that the court “overlooked or misapprehended
EVERY point presented by my appellate submissions and ALL
the uncontroverted, documented facts and controlling law on
which they are based.”
Her suit, which is pending another hearing before the New
York State Supreme Court Appellate Division, requests six
claims for relief. She asks the court to determine:
1. Whether the commission’s operating rules and procedures
are consistent with the commission’s mandate set forth in
the state Judiciary Law. According to Judiciary Law 44.1,
the commission “shall receive, initiate, investigate and hear
complaints with respect to” judicial conduct. However, in
the commission’s operating rules, whether the commission is
obligated to examine such cases becomes optional: “When a
complaint is received or when the administrator’s complaint
is filed, an initial review and inquiry may be undertaken.
Upon receipt of a complaint, or after an initial review and
inquiry, the complaint may be dismissed by the commission
or, when authorized by the commission, an investigation may
be undertaken,” according to 22 NYCRR 7000.3.
2. Whether Sassower’s Oct. 6, 1998,
judicial-misconduct complaint against Appellate Justice Albert
Rosenblatt is “facially meritorious.” Sassower alleged in
her complaint that Rosenblatt perjured himself before the
Commission on Judicial Nominations by failing to acknowledge
that he had been the subject of previous commission investigation.
3. Whether the commission has wrongfully deprived complainants
of their rights to basic information as to why the
commission may have dismissed their complaints. As it stands,
many complainants—including Sassower—simply receive form letters
stating that their cases have been dismissed without investigation.
4. Whether the commission is behaving unconstitutionally when
it dismisses cases using only three members of the 11-member
judicial-conduct panel.
5. Whether the 10-year chairmanship of Henry Berger, who is
still serving as chair of the commission today, violates the
commission’s own rules. Commission chairmen are supposed to
be limited to a member’s “term in office or for a period of
two years, which ever is shorter.”
6. Whether the commission has a mandatory duty to receive
and determine complaints. Sassower cites one complaint in
particular—her 1999 complaint against Appellate Division Judge
Daniel Joy, which the commission simply refused to acknowledge.
At the time of the complaint, Joy also was the highest-ranking
judge on the commission.
On Feb. 7, the Commission on Judicial Conduct submitted a
motion to the court asking for dismissal of Sassower’s reargument
motion. Carol Fisher, an assistant solicitor general for the
attorney general, argued that Sassower’s case was baseless,
relied on “imagined conspiracy involving the governor and
the presumed wish possessed by judges to protect the supposed
conspiracy from exposure.”
It’s difficult to find an unbiased, professional opinions
on Sassower’s lawsuit, because Sassower seems to have made
too many enemies within the court system, state government
and bar associations of New York state. Very few people would
comment about her suit on the record, and some of the correspondence
Sassower has had with various agencies and organizations about
her case is so blistering that those who might possibly be
equipped to examine her claims have refused to have any further
contact with her.
Take Stephen Krane, president of the New York State Bar Association,
for example. Sassower provided him with a complete set of
papers on her appeal, and when he returned them to her, she
sent him a letter accusing him of making “false and defamatory”
statements. She took him to task for writing to her that the
matters her suit addresses “are not matters of statewide significance.”
She also raked him over the coals for returning the court
papers in pristine condition:
“There
were NO creases in the card-stock covers of the Appellant’s
brief and Appendix, nor any in the inside pages, NO creases
in the paper covers and contents of the Attorney General’s
Respondent’s Brief and my critique thereof. . . . In short,
these ‘materials’ seemed to be in ‘untouched by human hands
condition.’ I, therefore, call upon you to confirm that you
actually ‘reviewed’ these ‘materials’—which is what your [letter]
claims in its very first sentence.”
After Sassower sent Krane several such letters, he sent her
back an e-mail, which read:
“Apparently,
I did not sufficiently mutilate the papers you provided me
last spring, but rather had the courtesy to return them to
you in virtually the same condition in which I received them.
Rather than thanking me for doing so, you saw fit to accuse
me of lying about having reviewed your papers. I do not take
kindly to scurrilous charges against me, and thus have no
intention of responding to your correspondence or of wasting
any further time even thinking about what I consider to be
a baseless crusade on your part.”
The commission’s Stern had only this to say about Sassower
and the suit filed by the Center for Judicial Accountability:
“I
know of Ms. Sassower extremely well,” Stern says. “I’m not
going to have any comment. I’m not sure which of her many,
many lawsuits she’s called to your attention. She has been
barred from bringing complaints, from suing judges in the
court system, and she’s got a number of cases or appeals or
whatever. But I think you can call any other state agency
and they’ll be familiar with her, too. I’m not going to make
any other comment.”
After Loeber filed his com-
plaint against Teresi, he says, his early communications with
the Commission on Judicial Conduct were promising. He says
he was told that his case was going to be used to “build a
case against Teresi,” against whom there were other conduct
complaints already pending.
“I
was told that they examined 26,000 documents and found others
who were imprisoned illegally by Teresi,” Loeber says. “They
led me to believe that they were going to remove him from
the bench.”
Loeber says he waited patiently for more than a year for the
commission to act on the Teresi matter. “And then a guy named
Amadou Diallo got shot, causing a real serious problem for
New York,” Loeber says. “And a policy decision was made to
solve that problem.”
It was determined that the four police officers who shot Diallo,
an unarmed black man standing in a New York City doorway in
February 1999, could not receive a fair trial in New York
City due to the extraordinary amount of publicity surrounding
the case. When the case was brought to Albany, Chief Administrative
Judge Jonathan Lippman selected Teresi to preside over it.
In February 2000, the nation was stunned when the four police
officers who gunned down Diallo with 41 bullets were acquitted
on all charges.
“Joe
Teresi was given a dirty job to do,” Loeber said. “Teresi
got a not-guilty verdict on every defendant, on every count
and every lesser charge. Joe Teresi did a marvelous job in
doing the job he was assigned. And they made Joe Teresi a
national hero.”
One year later, in February 2001, Loeber was at home when
his phone rang. It was a reporter calling to ask him what
he thought of the commission’s verdict on the Teresi judicial-misconduct
case. On Feb. 8, 2001, the commission had ruled that, based
on his behavior in four separate cases including Loeber’s,
Teresi “failed to observe high standards of conduct” and violated
the due-process rights of Loeber. He was censured by the commission—essentially,
he was officially reprimanded—for his behavior. Loeber was
never called by the commission to testify. And no one bothered
to notify him about the determination until Feb. 23, weeks
after the information had already been distributed to Teresi,
all members of the commission and the press.
“They
had led me to believe he was going to be removed,” Loeber
says again. “It’s my opinion that Joe Teresi’s censure was
his reward.”
Stern says that he thinks the Loeber case was handled correctly
and that the appropriate punishment was meted out to Teresi:
“I think he should have been censured, and he was censured,”
Stern comments. “If I were involved in a particular case and
had a grievance against a judge and the commission found there
was an infraction, I would be very upset, too. I understand
that. But that’s why victims of crimes don’t sit on a jury.
The commission has to look at more than that. And Judge Teresi
had a good reputation, and he did some excellent work.”
Despite good deeds and excellent work, Teresi and any judge
who willfully violates an oath of office should be made to
pay, Loeber thinks.
In 2001, after the Teresi decision was made public, Loeber
started a New York chapter of J.A.I.L.4Judges (Judicial Accountability
and Integrity Legislation), an organization that wants to
create special grand juries to investigate complaints against
judges when all other avenues—including the filing of complaints
with the Commission on Judicial Conduct—have been exhausted.
The special grand juries J.A.I.L. would create would have
the power to discipline judges by levying fines, removing
them from the bench and, where appropriate, subjecting jurists
to criminal proceedings before special trial juries. According
to members of J.A.I.L.4Judges, the commission is too closely
tied to the judiciary. As a result, too many abuses of judicial
discretion, conflicts of interest, denial of due process and
violations of individuals’ rights are tolerated. J.A.I.L.
says that since judges enjoy judicial immunity—or divine right,
as Loeber likes to call it—there is no real avenue for relief
should the commission refuse to investigate a case. Or when
a case is investigated but the complainant doesn’t feel that
the punishment suits the crime.
“The
‘censure’ of that man [Teresi] is but the mere hurling of
a word against the wind
. . . and it wasn’t even a four-letter word,” Loeber complained
in a letter to Chief Judge Judith Kaye in March 2001. “The
Times Union reported that Joe Teresi said, ‘I take
full responsibility for all my actions and regret that they
occurred. I apologize to my colleagues in the judiciary for
any negative impact this might have.’ . . . Why is it that
with all the people Joe Teresi offended and damaged, he apologized
to his colleagues? . . . If I break the law as Joe Teresi
has done, will the district attorney, in the future, accept
my apology and offer polite censure to me?”
Probably not. Which is why Loeber is hoping to see a future
when judges can be held more directly accountable for their
actions.
“I
keep telling people I can’t wait until the first judge is
sent to jail on a three-strikes provision,” says Loeber, “and
gets a cellmate named Bubba, desperately wanting a girlfriend
as a cellmate.”
- To
contact Ron Loeber and J.A.I.L.4Judges, visit www.jail4judges.org
or e-mail him at valortoo@capital.net.
- To
find out more about Elena Sassower and the Center
for Judicial Accountability, visit www.judgewatch.org.
- To
find out more about the Commission on Judicial Conduct,
visit www.scjc.state.ny.us.
|
|