phill4paul
07-18-2014, 08:14 PM
Petty tyranny has infected the AmeriKan mind to such an extent that they cannot sit, simply, in judgement. They feel that they must exercise their newly found power to an extant that makes a mockery of the entire JustUs system....
A disturbing glimpse into the shrouded world of the Texas grand jury system
By Lisa Falkenberg
July 16, 2014 | Updated: July 17, 2014 7:24pm
"Sir, I don't know anything else," the young mother of three told a Harris County prosecutor on an April morning in 2003.
But the prosecutor, Dan Rizzo, didn't believe her. And neither did the Harris County grand jury listening to her testimony.
They seemed convinced that Ericka Jean Dockery's boyfriend of six months, Alfred Dewayne Brown, had murdered veteran Houston police officer Charles R. Clark during a three-man burglary of a check-cashing place, and they didn't seem to be willing to believe Dockery's testimony that he was at her house the morning of the murder.
"If we find out that you're not telling the truth, we're coming after you," one grand juror tells Dockery.
"You won't be able to get a job flipping burgers," says another.
Dockery tells the group that if she believed Brown actually killed people, she'd turn him in herself: "If he did it, he deserves to get whatever is coming to him. Truly," she says.
In May, I reported that a land-line phone record supporting Brown's contention that he called Dockery that morning from her apartment phone had mysteriously turned up in a homicide detective's garage, more than seven years after he was convicted and sentenced to death. The Harris County District Attorney's Office maintained Rizzo, now retired, must have inadvertently lost the record, and agreed to a new trial. The Texas Court of Criminal Appeals inexplicably has sat on the case for more than a year.
Initially, Dockery's story meshed with Brown's. She told grand jurors he was indeed asleep on her couch at the early morning hour when prosecutors believed he was scouting venues. Dockery also confirmed the land-line call to her workplace - made at the same time prosecutors placed Brown at an apartment complex with suspects, changing clothes and watching TV news coverage of the crime.
Neither the prosecutor nor the grand jury would take Dockery's "truth" for an answer.
The young woman, a home health aide who made Subway sandwiches by night, had no attorney. No experience dealing with authorities. No criminal history aside from traffic tickets.
She caved. At Brown's capital murder trial in October 2005, Dockery was a key prosecution witness, helping seal her boyfriend's death sentence by telling the court that when she asked him if he did it, he had confessed, saying, " 'I was there. I was there.' "
How she got from one point to another would be hard to imagine. But thanks to a formerly confidential document in Brown's court file, we don't have to imagine.
In it, grand jurors don't just inquire. They interrogate. They intimidate. They appear to abandon their duty to serve as a check on overzealous government prosecution and instead join the team.
When the grand jury returns, the foreman says the members are not convinced by Dockery's story and "wanted to express our concern" for her children if she doesn't come clean.
"That's why we're really pulling this testimony," the foreman tells her.
The foreman adds that if the evidence shows she's perjuring herself "then you know the kids are going to be taken by Child Protective Services, and you're going to the penitentiary and you won't see your kids for a long time."
'Think about your kids'
Rizzo goes on to accuse Dockery of misleading the grand jury. Then, after being told again and again to think about her children, Dockery changes her story a bit. She says Brown was not at the house when she left for work.
"Think about your kids, darling," a grand juror says.
"That's what we're concerned about here, is your kids," the foreman says.
"He was not at the house," a grand juror urges.
"We're as much concerned about your kids as you are," the foreman says. "So, tell the truth."
Months later, Dockery found herself in jail charged with perjury for allegedly lying about what time she last saw Brown the day of the murder and whether she called another suspect. She faced bail she couldn't pay and, apparently, one cruel choice - stay locked up away from her children, or tell them what they wanted to hear.
http://www.houstonchronicle.com/news/columnists/falkenberg/article/A-disturbing-glimpse-into-the-shrouded-world-of-5626689.php?cmpid=twitter-premium&t=7436fa9ed
A disturbing glimpse into the shrouded world of the Texas grand jury system
By Lisa Falkenberg
July 16, 2014 | Updated: July 17, 2014 7:24pm
"Sir, I don't know anything else," the young mother of three told a Harris County prosecutor on an April morning in 2003.
But the prosecutor, Dan Rizzo, didn't believe her. And neither did the Harris County grand jury listening to her testimony.
They seemed convinced that Ericka Jean Dockery's boyfriend of six months, Alfred Dewayne Brown, had murdered veteran Houston police officer Charles R. Clark during a three-man burglary of a check-cashing place, and they didn't seem to be willing to believe Dockery's testimony that he was at her house the morning of the murder.
"If we find out that you're not telling the truth, we're coming after you," one grand juror tells Dockery.
"You won't be able to get a job flipping burgers," says another.
Dockery tells the group that if she believed Brown actually killed people, she'd turn him in herself: "If he did it, he deserves to get whatever is coming to him. Truly," she says.
In May, I reported that a land-line phone record supporting Brown's contention that he called Dockery that morning from her apartment phone had mysteriously turned up in a homicide detective's garage, more than seven years after he was convicted and sentenced to death. The Harris County District Attorney's Office maintained Rizzo, now retired, must have inadvertently lost the record, and agreed to a new trial. The Texas Court of Criminal Appeals inexplicably has sat on the case for more than a year.
Initially, Dockery's story meshed with Brown's. She told grand jurors he was indeed asleep on her couch at the early morning hour when prosecutors believed he was scouting venues. Dockery also confirmed the land-line call to her workplace - made at the same time prosecutors placed Brown at an apartment complex with suspects, changing clothes and watching TV news coverage of the crime.
Neither the prosecutor nor the grand jury would take Dockery's "truth" for an answer.
The young woman, a home health aide who made Subway sandwiches by night, had no attorney. No experience dealing with authorities. No criminal history aside from traffic tickets.
She caved. At Brown's capital murder trial in October 2005, Dockery was a key prosecution witness, helping seal her boyfriend's death sentence by telling the court that when she asked him if he did it, he had confessed, saying, " 'I was there. I was there.' "
How she got from one point to another would be hard to imagine. But thanks to a formerly confidential document in Brown's court file, we don't have to imagine.
In it, grand jurors don't just inquire. They interrogate. They intimidate. They appear to abandon their duty to serve as a check on overzealous government prosecution and instead join the team.
When the grand jury returns, the foreman says the members are not convinced by Dockery's story and "wanted to express our concern" for her children if she doesn't come clean.
"That's why we're really pulling this testimony," the foreman tells her.
The foreman adds that if the evidence shows she's perjuring herself "then you know the kids are going to be taken by Child Protective Services, and you're going to the penitentiary and you won't see your kids for a long time."
'Think about your kids'
Rizzo goes on to accuse Dockery of misleading the grand jury. Then, after being told again and again to think about her children, Dockery changes her story a bit. She says Brown was not at the house when she left for work.
"Think about your kids, darling," a grand juror says.
"That's what we're concerned about here, is your kids," the foreman says.
"He was not at the house," a grand juror urges.
"We're as much concerned about your kids as you are," the foreman says. "So, tell the truth."
Months later, Dockery found herself in jail charged with perjury for allegedly lying about what time she last saw Brown the day of the murder and whether she called another suspect. She faced bail she couldn't pay and, apparently, one cruel choice - stay locked up away from her children, or tell them what they wanted to hear.
http://www.houstonchronicle.com/news/columnists/falkenberg/article/A-disturbing-glimpse-into-the-shrouded-world-of-5626689.php?cmpid=twitter-premium&t=7436fa9ed