The Slick 50s Case: A Model of Justice

In our sometimes-mythologized view of American justice, we have an image of the judge.

He or she is the wisest of the wise. The smartest of the smart. The fairest of the fair. Sitting on their Olympian thrones above the lawyers and the jurors, it is the judges who see all, know all and fear no one.

Or so we hope.

Last week in an Orange County courtroom, a judge rose to the occasion. He did it in the most time-honored American way: He dispensed justice.

The moment was the sentencing of four members and one “associate” of the so-called Slick 50s gang in South County.

The crime occurred at a party in 1998, when the five--four teens and a 21-year-old--beat up a 17-year-old boy. The most serious aspects of the incident occurred when one of the five hit the victim in the head with a beer bottle and then, after the fight had apparently ended, another stabbed the victim as he walked away.

The district attorney’s office took all five to court on attempted-murder charges that had them looking at 15-year prison sentences. Prosecutors argued that the five acted as a gang and were, in essence, equally accountable for what happened.

It was a classic case of overcharging, but it occurred in the climate where overcharging grows best: public fear. In this case, it was the fear of gang violence in South County.

The danger in overcharging is that juries sometimes buy it, as they did in the Slick 50s case. Last August, all five were convicted of attempted murder, although the consensus was that only one of the teens wielded the beer bottle and the 21-year-old did the stabbing.

Those of us who argued that only those who directly threatened the victim’s life should have been charged with attempted murder--in the absence of a clear conspiracy--were met with the usual soft-on-crime barrage.

Judge Refuses to Take Easy Way Out

Enter Judge Robert Fitzgerald, a retired Superior Court judge who still takes cases on assignment and who presided over the Slick 50s trial. During his career, no one ever called the former prosecutor squishy on crime. Fitzgerald has signed death-penalty warrants and was even removed in 1997 from the mass murder trial of Charles Ng for intemperate remarks toward the defense.

The easy thing for Fitzgerald to do was accept the jury’s findings. Not wanting to defy juries or rattle the cages of prosecutors, that’s what judges do with regularity.

Instead, Fitzgerald honored his profession by reducing the attempted-murder convictions of three of the teens to assault. He let the attempted-murder charges stick against the two assailants who wielded the bottle and the knife and gave them prison sentences of six and 11 years, respectively.

He deferred sentencing on the three remaining teens until getting a report from the California Youth Authority. If he incarcerates them, he said, it will be for a maximum of four years.

He also said he wasn’t adding the “gang enhancement” penalty to any of the five.

You could argue that, as a retired judge who doesn’t face voters, Fitzgerald could afford to buck the system. Even the victim asked him to be lenient.

Fine. Argue that.

However, Fitzgerald’s reputation is that he was always independent.

I talked to one of the teens’ mothers this week. Somewhat relieved, she doesn’t want to be identified or even say very much because formal sentencing awaits her son in May. But she did talk about the months-long anguish from knowing that only the judge last week stood between her son and a lengthy state prison term.

“Nobody knew what was going to happen,” she says of last week’s proceedings. “I think we were all preparing for the worst, because when we were waiting for the verdicts last year, we didn’t expect attempted murder. When that happened, we were all so devastated, we were afraid to hope anymore.”

This case was never about turning a blind eye to the culpability of the five, nor about minimizing the victim’s injuries. It shouldn’t have been about playing to the crowd.

It was only about meting out the proper punishment.

Last week, Judge Fitzgerald was wise, smart and fair.

In my book, that’s justice served.

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Dana Parsons’ column appears Wednesday, Friday and Sunday. Readers may reach Parsons by calling (714) 966-7821, by writing to him at The Times’ Orange County edition, 1375 Sunflower Ave., Costa Mesa, CA 92626, or at dana.parsons@latimes.com.