High Court to Consider Who’ll Pay for Rogue Cop’s Acts

Jill Brown, a 25-year-old Texas woman, was driving home with her husband late one night when she had an encounter with a police officer from which she will never fully recover.

Although innocent of any crime, she was pulled from their pickup truck and hurled onto her knees by a volatile rookie officer with a long criminal record. The impact jammed her kneecaps into their joints and tore the cartilage, leaving her unable to walk for a year. Four operations later, she is facing further surgery to put artificial joints in both knees.

This week, the Supreme Court will hear her case to reconsider whether the county that put the rogue cop on the street can be forced to pay for the damage he caused.

The case of Bryan County vs. Jill Brown (95-1100) has become this term’s most closely watched dispute between local officials and civil rights attorneys, and the outcome could have a far-reaching impact on the law.

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For nearly 20 years, the justices have been closely divided on when local governments may be held liable for misconduct by their employees.

In a landmark 1978 ruling, a liberal-leaning high court said cities, counties and school districts could be forced to pay damages if an employee, carrying out an official “policy,” violated a citizen’s constitutional rights. Ever since, the court has been unable to agree on what actions represent an official policy.

Conservative legal groups and the National Assn. of Counties are urging the court to throw out the jury’s damage award for Brown and rule that local governments may not be held liable for a single bad decision by a county official.

“There was no pattern of violations against this [police] department,” said Wallace B. Jefferson, an attorney representing the county.

He is hoping the more conservative court will be inclined to shield local governments from most damage suits. And he is likely to have an ally in Chief Justice William H. Rehnquist, who dissented from the 1978 ruling that allowed liability for constitutional violations.

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Women’s-rights groups and civil libertarians have joined the case on Brown’s side, arguing that the government should not be immune simply because an egregious mistake was the first to result in a lawsuit.

They point out the example of a Texas school district that was successfully sued after a 13-year-old was raped by a newly hired school custodian who was a paroled rapist. In the past, the high court also has said police departments may be sued for giving a gun to a new officer who is not trained in how to use it. These cases established the rule that government agencies can be sued if they show a “deliberate indifference” to a citizen’s rights.

Rarely do police officers face criminal charges for excessive use of force--the case of Los Angeles motorist Rodney G. King was an exception--because the charges generally must be lodged by the same governmental units that employ the officers.

Moreover, many states prohibit civil damage suits against government agencies, and most of those that permit them, including California, make it hard for a plaintiff to win much money. So most cases of alleged police brutality--Brown’s included--are civil suits filed in federal court.

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Brown, like most people suing the government, brought her claim under the 1871 Ku Klux Klan Act, which allows damage claims against “every person who, under color of any statute [or] regulation,” deprives someone of rights “secured by the Constitution.”

Lawyers for Brown say her situation is a prime example of a federal case charging the police with indifference to her rights.

“This guy had a long rap sheet, and the sheriff didn’t even bother to read it all,” said Duke Walker, speaking of the rookie officer who injured his client.

For her part, Brown says she hopes her case sounds a warning about the importance of carefully selecting police officers.

“I’ve had good friends who are in law enforcement,” she said. “It’s a stressful job, a hard job, but it is not something that everyone can handle.”

She says the case also shows that “police brutality is not a racial issue. I’m a white woman, and I had never had any problems with the police before this.”

The same cannot be said for Stacy Burns, the 21-year-old officer who prompted the lawsuit.

The son of the sheriff’s nephew, Burns was hired by the Bryan County, Okla., Police Department despite a rap sheet that included a conviction for assault and battery, a conviction for carrying a false identification and nine moving traffic violations--including driving while intoxicated and driving with a suspended license. He also had an outstanding warrant for his arrest for violating a probation order.

During the trial, Sheriff B.J. Moore said he believed all the charges against Burns were minor misdemeanors. In response to questions, he was forced to admit he had not read all the charges on the rap sheet.

“He had a long record,” the sheriff said. “I didn’t have no idea he was on probation.”

On May 12, 1991, his sixth day on the job and just two months after the nation had seen the videotaped beating of King, Burns was manning a police checkpoint near Cartwright, Okla., just north of the Texas border.

According to court testimony, Brown and her husband, Todd, had spent the day visiting flea markets in northern Texas. Late that night, they planned to stop by their horse farm on the Oklahoma side of the border to check on the animals.

About 1 a.m., they came upon the police checkpoint, a stop that several times before had held them up for more than 30 minutes.

Irked, Todd turned the pickup around and headed back to their home in Texas. Jill says she awoke to see blue flashing lights in the mirror as her husband pulled to the side of the road.

“Get out! Get out! And get your hands up!” Burns shouted as he pulled open the passenger side door. While one officer handcuffed Todd, Burns grabbed Jill Brown by her arms, hurled her from the truck’s high seat to the pavement and shoved his knee into her back.

“I screamed,” she said, “but it was more from shock than pain. He was so angry and upset, I thought they were going to kill us.”

“This is just like L.A., huh, boys,” Todd Brown said.

“No, this is a hell of lot worse,” Burns replied.

Burns dumped Jill’s purse on the seat and searched the truck. A few minutes later, he yanked her up from the pavement by pulling the chain connecting the handcuffs behind her back. She was put in the back of the truck, where she sat for more than an hour.

No one explained why the couple was chased and stopped. They were allowed to leave after an officer wrote Todd tickets for running a roadblock and carrying a concealed rifle, although the gun was legal in Texas.

“They didn’t say anything to us,” she said. “One guy later said, ‘It was to get people like you who are out late at night: druggies, drunks and thieves.’ ”

Unable to walk or hold a job, Jill Brown faced a series of operations to reconstruct her knees. She has already spent $130,000 for medical bills.

So she sued, and the jury concluded that both the county and Burns were liable for the injuries inflicted. Burns was hit with a $20,000 judgment and the county, $711,000.

Late last year, the U.S. Court of Appeals in New Orleans upheld the award. It said the testimony showed Burns had a “propensity for violence” and the county sheriff displayed a “deliberate indifference to the public’s welfare” by hiring him.

In California and most other states, the government pays verdicts handed down against police officers. Most juries, however, do not impose big damage verdicts unless a county or city is named as the defendant.

On Tuesday the Supreme Court will hear arguments on whether a county such as this should be made immune for a hiring decision that went awry.