Backers of Three Strikes Unflinchingly Defend Law

All they ask, really, is for you to imagine. Then, they believe, you will understand.

First, imagine: Your doorbell rings. An officer stands on your stoop. He clears his throat. Frowns. And tells you: Your daughter has been shot. Or your son has been bludgeoned. She is dead. Or he is dead. Murdered.

Now, understand: The grief, the fear, the anger. The vow that the killer will pay. That all killers will pay. And not just killers, but muggers and robbers and dope pushers, too. Anyone who repeatedly, willfully flouts the law.

Imagine their horror, understand their vow, and you will appreciate the fierce passion behind the victims’ rights movement that propelled California’s three-strikes initiative into law.

In the two years since the law took effect, the activists who crusaded for it have heard all the criticism--that the punishments are too harsh, the costs are too high, the rules are too strict.

They’ve heard, too, of the sad-sack cases--the man who filches the piece of pizza or pockets the bag of crack and lands in jail for 25 years to life. Some have even read the recent California Supreme Court decision that modified three strikes by granting judges the power to overlook prior convictions and hand out shorter sentences.

Still, they remain convinced that Californians want, need and deserve three strikes.

Many victims’ advocates are trying to move on to other issues--like lobbying for a law to take away certain inmates’ rights to extended, unsupervised conjugal visits. But they remain ready to spring back to their primary cause, to defend and uphold three strikes. In their minds, it should be the most basic law of all: criminals who repeatedly prey on society get locked away so they cannot hurt anyone else.

“We need three strikes,” Thousand Oaks activist Martha Farwell explains, “so someone like me will not have to say, ‘If we had put him away, my daughter would still be alive.’ ”

Activists are certain the problems now attributed to three strikes, from crowded jails to clogged courts, will settle down over the next few years, as repeat offenders either mend their ways or leave the state. In the meantime, they stand ready to fight fight off doubters.

* You want to talk about cost? OK, fine. Talk about how much it costs to incarcerate inmates. Robert Leach will respond by telling you how much more it costs to set them free.

“My daughter was murdered 13 years ago when she was a senior [at UC Santa Barbara], studying to be a teacher of handicapped children,” said Leach, president of the Southern California group Justice for Homicide Victims. The man who killed her was not a repeat offender--he was her ex-boyfriend, in fact, and he shot her in the head with a shotgun in Malibu. Still, Leach uses his own pain--and his daughter’s promise--to rebut those who would say three strikes costs too much: “Who knows how much her death cost society? Not to mention our personal anguish.”

* You want to talk about priorities? Argue, perhaps, that we should spend more on schools, social work or defense than on holding prisoners behind bars for decades? Century City resident Harold Young, who lost his son to a murderous robber, will quickly set you straight: “People in this country today don’t care about Bosnia, don’t care about the Arab conflict with Israel. What they care about is the safety of their families. People are afraid. It’s as simple as that.”

* You want to tug on the heartstrings? Say it doesn’t seem fair that some guy who shoplifts a bottle of perfume can get locked up for life just because he committed two robberies 15 years ago? Go to it. Summon up all the outrage you can muster. But be ready for an angry earful from Jan Miller.

Miller’s daughter was beaten to death in her apartment 12 years ago, when she was attending Chico State University. Detectives never did solve the homicide. The murderer got away clean--no arrest, no conviction. That painful fact leads Miller to believe that many criminals commit many horrible deeds before they ever get caught. The way she figures it, if someone gets convicted twice, he deserves life in the slammer the third time around, no matter what his offense.

“When TV gives us this 2 1/2-minute sound bite about the pour soul who stole a piece of pizza, they ask if he deserves to spend 25 years to life in prison. Well, the truth of the matter is, he probably does,” said Miller, who runs the national group Citizens Against Homicide from her home in San Rafael.

Miller and other activists identify with three strikes so strongly that they take criticism of the law almost as a personal affront.

As activist Kelly Rudiger put it: “The people who say [ease three strikes] are people who have never lost someone to crime.”

Young, 69, a former court reporter, added that he never expected to spend his retirement pushing for three strikes. But after his son was killed by a robber with a rap sheet, Young became a convert to the three-strikes cause. And he is committed to carrying on the crusade. “It would be a dishonor to the memory of my son if I didn’t,” he said.

As proof that three strikes works, advocates point to the state’s plunging crime rate, which sank to a 25-year low last year. In announcing the latest statistics this week, Atty. Gen. Dan Lungren attributed the 4.4% dip in violent crimes and 8.5% drop in burglary and car theft to the three-strikes law.

“This thing is locking up the Who’s Who of criminals,” said Mike Reynolds, the Fresno photographer who led the charge for three strikes after his daughter was murdered during a purse snatching.

But for the law to work well, Reynolds and other hard-line activists insist it must be applied with full force to every case.

That means sentences of at least 25 years for anyone judged guilty of a third felony after two previous convictions for serious or violent crimes. It means double the normal sentence for defendants convicted of second strikes. And it means requiring all second- and third-strike felons to serve a minimum of 80% of their prison sentences.

Those who argue for softening the rules, Reynolds said, just don’t understand.

To be sure, some members of the victims’ rights movement are more willing to compromise. For all his tough talk, Leach said he would support giving leniency to ex-cons tripped up on relatively minor third strikes, such as petty thefts, if that would shush the critics who relentlessly attack the law.

“We want three strikes to stay as is, but we understand it would be wise--and the better part of political intelligence--to [compromise] in order to defang some of the criticism we think is frivolous and unfounded,” said Leach, who counts 10,000 members in his organization. “Then the critics wouldn’t have anything to bellyache about.”

That stance draws harsh words from Reynolds, Rudiger and other leaders of the victims rights movement. They are convinced that three strikes will work only if word gets out on the street that it’s a super-tough, no-exceptions law.

“You know who did the most to reduce crime in this state?” Reynolds asked. “It wasn’t me. It wasn’t Atty. Gen. Dan Lungren. It wasn’t Gov. Pete Wilson. It wasn’t [Los Angeles County Dist. Atty.] Gil Garcetti. It was some jerk who stole a slice of pizza in Southern California” and drew a three-strikes sentence.

“When [the pizza thief] said, ‘Damn, that’s a tough law,’ when the media said, ‘Damn, that’s a tough law,’ that’s when every other criminal in this state said, ‘Damn, that’s a tough law,’ ” Reynolds added proudly. “When you draw a line in the sand and say, ‘No more Mr. Nice Guy,’ the criminals seem to understand.”

To ensure that three-strikes remains as tough as originally envisioned, Reynolds is pushing for legislative action that would mitigate the effect of the recent Supreme Court decision. Backed by other activists, he supports a bill carried by Senate Republican Leader Rob Hurtt of Garden Grove that is scheduled to be heard today in the Assembly Appropriations Committee.

The bill would stipulate that judges cannot grant mercy to defendants whose prior strikes consisted of violent crimes, such as robbery, rape or assault.

It would also strip away judges’ right to offer leniency if the defendant’s most recent felony charge came less than five years after he had been released from prison. Finally, it would insist on the full punishment of 25 years to life for anyone convicted of a serious or violent third strike. Judges would still have leeway if the third strike was a nonviolent felony such as petty theft, residential burglary, or possession of few grams of cocaine.

“I don’t think it will run into any constitutional problem at all,” said Lungren, who endorsed the bill after lawmakers tacked on an amendment requiring prosecutors to explain themselves in court if they decide to overlook a previous strike.

The prospect that the Hurtt bill will restore three strikes to near-full strength cheers people like June Weitzberg, a member of Justice for Homicide Victims. Her husband, Louis, was killed in their garage when he surprised a burglar as he returned from work.

She explains her support for three strikes in just one sentence--a sentence that resonates with activists everywhere and urges them to keep up the fight. Weitzberg backs three strikes, and will defend it against all criticism, she said, for a simple reason: “My husband would be alive today if it had been in force earlier.”

Times staff writer Dan Morain contributed to this story.