People around the country are becoming anxious over the growing lawlessness and violence throughout the country.
They’ve even coined a phrase for it: The Ferguson Effect.
It’s one of the first times the national media acknowledged that the movement to vilify the police, as was the case in Ferguson, is having a dire effect on policing, particularly in large cities.
Conservative columnist Patrick Buchanan describes it as well as anyone:
This year, 24 cops have been gunned down. And the day after deputy Goforth’s execution, “Black Lives Matter!” showed up at the Minnesota state fair chanting, “Pigs in a blanket! Fry ’em like bacon!”
Last fall, when mobs blocked highways after the death of Eric Garner in an encounter with police on Staten Island, the hoodlum chant was: “What do we want? Dead cops! When do we want ’em? Now!”
Soon after, two cops in Brooklyn were executed in their patrol car…
For some of the evils of the last century we thought we left behind seem to be returning, as is the old indulgence of lawlessness when done by those claiming some “grievance” against society.
Violent crime is rising again, a direct result, many believe, of a new police reluctance to be aggressive in enforcing the law, to avoid violent clashes with criminals and suspects, the so-called “Ferguson effect.”
The lead story in the Sept. 1 New York Times reported a surge in murders in the city after the Eric Garner incident, and even greater surges in Milwaukee, St. Louis, Baltimore, Washington, D.C., and Chicago.
A closer look at the Times figures reveals something more disturbing. Chicago, a city with not half the population of New York, exceeds New York in murders this year, 294 to 208.
Washington, a city not a tenth as populous as New York, had half as many murders, 105. Baltimore, where Freddie Gray died in police custody, and six officers have been charged in his death, has had more murders this year, 215, than New York, though New York has 14 times the population.
The intense media pressure to vilify the police in Ferguson might seem to be new to the rest of the country, but it is all too familiar to members of the law enforcement community in Chicago.
Here, city cops have been dealing with it for more than 40 years.
Older cops, now mostly retired, can trace its origins to the 1968 riots in Chicago. There has always been bitter contention over who was at fault for the violence in Chicago at the convention, the protestors or the police. Many of the narratives, written by “protesters,” placed the blame on the cops.
But the truth is that even by 1968, a radical, violent and often revolutionary collection of activists was taking shape in the city, and taking aim at the police. Initially, they threw rocks and bottles at the police, then shot them and set off bombs.
From City Journal:
Numerous histories from participant-memoirists unsurprisingly second the “police riot” verdict. Cathy Wilkerson, whose cadre unleashed stink bombs and phoned bomb threats to local hotels, notes in her recent memoir that the “rampant brutality” of Chicago mayor Richard J. Daley “was exposed for all the world to see.” For Tom Hayden, the coordinator of the Chicago protests who was arrested for deflating a police car’s tire, “rioting police” exhibited “brutal behavior” and “mindless sadism.” Bill Ayers, who brags of pelting Chicago cops with marbles fired from a slingshot, decries the “violent police assaults” and police “rioting.” But far from political innocents clubbed into reality by sadistic policemen, the activists who squared off with cops were generally movement veterans who went to Chicago looking for a fight. As Jeff Jones and Mike Spiegel of New Left Notes wrote six months before the convention, “to envision non-violent demonstrations at the Convention is to indulge in pleasant fantasying.” By 1968, the movement had moved from mere protest to open confrontation. Leaving for Chicago, Terry Robbins—who, 18 months later, would blow himself up while constructing a bomb intended for a soldiers’ dance—told comrades: “Let’s go kick some ass.”
The figure most closely associated with the Chicago protests is Tom Hayden, now point man for Progressives for Obama. Students for a Democratic Society (SDS) activist Gerry Long recalled to David Horowitz that Hayden noted the benefits of firebombing Chicago police cruisers. “I heard Tom Hayden speak, in chillingly cavalier tones, about street actions which would run the risk of getting people killed,” Todd Gitlin remembered in The Sixties. In a conversation with me, Mike Klonsky, SDS’s national secretary during the convention riots, described how Hayden plotted to scatter nails over a nearby highway…
The behind-closed-doors Hayden occasionally ventured into public view. In Chicago, he called on activists to “avenge” the injuries of co- organizer, Rennie Davis, who had suffered a concussion battling the police. Hayden exhorted the throngs: “Make sure that if blood is going to flow, it will flow all over this city.” Hayden wasn’t alone among future Chicago Eight defendants in his violent rhetoric. “If a pig comes up to us and starts swinging a billy club,” Black Panther Bobby Seale counseled, “and you check around and you got your piece, you got to down that pig in defense of yourself! We’re going to barbecue us some pork!” Abbie Hoffman called for “a huge orgasm of destruction,” and (along with sidekick Jerry Rubin) daydreamed of poisoning Chicago’s water supply with LSD. Hearing the reckless pronouncements of the riot’s ringleaders, Americans—already weary from several years of deadly urban rioting across the country—supported the Chicago police by greater than 2–1 margins. “The whole world is watching!” the protestors chanted, but polls showed that not everyone saw events their way.
But over the course of several decades their war on the police and criminal justice became more sophisticated.
To understand this evolution, one must look at a crucial event in Chicago more than a decade after the 1968 riots.
It was 1992. Mayor Richard Daley, the leader of perhaps the country’s most formidable political machine, faced an ominous decision. The same group of lawyers and activists who had rioted or supported the rioting at the 1968 Democratic Convention claimed that a Chicago Police Commander, Jon Burge, had tortured murder suspects.
The claim by these lawyers was based primarily on the case of Andrew Wilson, a career thug who gunned down two police officers during a traffic stop in February of 1982. The murder of the police officers took place during a period of unprecedented violence against police—the kind of violence against the police many of these radicals had called for in the 1960s. In one month of 1982, five cops were gunned down, four fatally, in the same year in which the city logged some 900 murders.
Wilson was captured several days after he murdered the two officers and was interrogated by Burge and his men in Area 2 on the far south side of Chicago. Up until this case, Burge was considered one of the best cops in the city, with one of the best homicide resolution rates. Tough cases, like the Wilson murders, were often given to him.
After Burge and his men interviewed Wilson and got a confession from him, Wilson was transported by a police wagon to central detention downtown. When he arrived, he was badly beaten. The lockup keeper would not accept the badly bruised Wilson, so the two wagon men took him to the hospital, where a doctor and nurses watched one of the wagon men become unhinged in dealing with Wilson, calling him names, pulling out his gun and threatening him.
It was never clear who abused Wilson. Many believed it was the wagon men. But the fact that four cops had been killed was clearly more than some cops could handle.
There was really never much evidence against Burge and his men, despite the claims by Andrew Wilson, claims that were his last, desperate hope of avoiding an almost certain death penalty, which he did. Wilson got off death row in large part because he had been beaten.
Nevertheless, it made little sense that detectives would leave marks all over Wilson, giving him an instant defense when they were trying desperately to build a case that would get him executed.
Based in large part on Wilson’s wounds, a group of lawyers and activists, spearheaded by the People’s Law Office (PLO), began pressing their claims that Burge and his men were racist monsters that tortured confessions out of suspects.
The PLO tried twice to sue Burge and his men over the abuse against Wilson.
Twice they failed.
“We’re sure something happened to him [Wilson], but maybe he inflicted it on himself,” one juror said after the first trial.
“We never would have given him money,” said another.
Despite these losses in the courtroom, a courtroom in which lead PLO attorney G. Flint Taylor would be held in contempt several times, turning the trial into a kind of circus, much as ultra-left attorney William Kunstler had done in his defense of the Chicago seven after the 1968 riots, the PLO pressed its case.
In doing so, Taylor and the PLO claimed they were fighting for justice and human rights, something that struck many people in the criminal justice system as ludicrous, since the PLO and many of their associates were comprised of self proclaimed revolutionary Marxists with a long history of supporting domestic terrorists, including the FALN bombers and the Weather Underground. These groups were extraordinarily violent. Later, they would be tied to black revolutionary groups that also committed many murders, including the murder of police officers.
In fact, the PLO got its start representing family members of the Black Panthers, who also called themselves revolutionary Marxists, and spoke endlessly about “killing the pigs.” Two of their members, Mark Clark and Fred Hampton, had been killed during a shootout with police in 1969, when a joint Chicago Police and FBI group tried to serve a warrant on a west side apartment that contained a weapons cache by the group.
The PLO’s formation to represent the Panthers typified the bridge-building between the upper middle class terrorist organizations like the Weather Underground and the urban black militants like the Panthers in the late 1960s, all of whom shared a philosophy calling for violence against the police, all of it shallowly disguised in the rhetoric of human rights.
A chief BPP [Black Panther Party] priority was to harass police officers under the mask of a “political” program. The “self defense” part of that program involved Panther members appearing in public places heavily armed, as a means of standing up defiantly to “police brutality” and America’s allegedly racist power structure. This—coupled with the Party's anti-police (“pig”) rhetoric—caught the political fancy of Sixties radicals who considered themselves to be at war with the United States and were beginning to flirt with “revolutionary violence.”
To be sure, BPP was engaged in veritable warfare against the police, not merely “defending the people” against them. As BPP leader Eldridge Cleaver told Reason magazine years later (in 1986): "We [Panthers] would go out and ambush cops, but if we got caught we would blame it on them and claim innocence."
Whenever possible, BPP actively sought out opportunities to spark confrontations with police. On February 21, 1967, for instance, Huey Newton provided an armed escort for Betty Shabazz, widow of Malcolm X, during a Bay Area speaking engagement. When newsmen tried to get closer to Shabazz than the Panthers wished to allow, police tried to enforce order with their nightsticks. In response, Newton and his fellow Panthers promptly loaded shells into their shotguns. After a tense standoff of several minutes, both sides backed off. Newton, however, boasted that the Panthers had “won” as a result of their “superior firepower.” The incident propelled Newton and the Panthers to national prominence.
The Black Panthers would lie about police violence in an effort to cast the police as the villains, distracting the gullible left from seeing the groups own growing criminal undertakings and violence.
But radical mythmakers tried to snatch victory out of the jaws of defeat. They portrayed the Panthers killed in the conflict as not merely dead, but as victims of "genocide." Thus, in 1969, Newton attorney Charles Garry claimed that 31 (or 29 or 28, depending on what day he was being interviewed) Panthers had been "assassinated" by law-enforcement authorities in the preceding two years. While it was true that approximately that many Panthers had indeed been killed since the group's inception, almost all of them had died in the course of criminal activities or in conflicts with other black militants. Of those Panthers who did die at the hands of police, all had provoked the shootouts.
The PLO represented the family members of Hampton and Clark by filing a wrongful death lawsuit. The PLO claim—big surprise here—that the deaths of Hampton and Clark were executions by the police. The PLO engaged a strategy they have been using ever since: making their clients the victims and the police the criminals.
The tenuousness of Panther martyrdom was seen even in the most celebrated claim of innocent victimhood—the death of Chicago Panther Fred Hampton. According to Garry and other Panther supporters, Hampton had been wantonly murdered in his sleep as part of a police-FBI conspiracy. While it was true that Hampton was killed in a crossfire of bullets while sleeping off a drug binge, it was also true that when the police knocked on the door of the apartment, which served as a storage facility for all manner of BPP weaponry, they were greeted by a blast from Panther Mark Clark's shotgun, which initiated the shootout.
A decade after the PLO had formed to represent the Panthers, Andrew Wilson’s wounds provided a prime opportunity for the law firm to push their anti-police agenda once again.
The fact that Burge was also a decorated Vietnam veteran tied into the firm’s fervent anti-war platform as well. The lawyers at the PLO made the giant leap that Burge learned how to torture confessions while in Vietnam, then came back to the states and employed the tactics as a police commander. The assumption in the claims by the PLO was that the police department was in sympathy with Burge’s racist crimes, because he was quickly promoted through the department and never disciplined for any torture, so the entire police department was painted with a veneer or racism, torture, and abuse.
Even though the PLO was shut down in court in their crusade against Burge and his men, they pressed their claims with a fervency and aggression only the most radicalized activists can muster. Talk to a PLO founding member today and he may refer to the mission not in legal terms, but in revolutionary ones, calling their crusade against Burge as part of “the movement.”
As it was, the campaign against Burge by the PLO at first failed miserably, including the two civil trials, where the trial antics of PLO attorney G. Flint Taylor earned the scorn of lawyers and reporters alike.
But in time, the PLO prevailed, based in large part because Chicago was governed by a crooked political machine that acquiesced to emerging political factions, regardless of their legitimacy.
One inroad was through higher education. In their transformation from terrorists or terrorist supporters to mainstream lawyers, academics, and journalists, many of the surviving 1960s revolutionaries in “the movement” would end up in some of Chicago’s most prestigious universities, where they set up law and journalism departments aimed at attacking the criminal justice system. Former Weather Underground (WU) bomber Bernadine Dohrn, for example, ended up at Northwestern University working on wrongful conviction cases. Her husband, former WU bomber Bill Ayers, got a job at the University of Illinois.
In Chicago, crime not only pays, it grants tenure.
A second inroad was into the local media. The PLO and other “movement” activists held relationships with key journalists in the city who acted as their personal PR agents, rarely reviewing the full record of evidence in murder cases. Instead, they merely parroted the claims of law firms like the PLO and of the Innocence Project at Northwestern University.
Try finding, for example, one single article by a Chicago media outlet about the PLO detailing their long history supporting the Weather Underground when Weather Underground members were on the FBI’s most wanted list and living underground.
Furthermore, these journalists would use their positions to vilify anyone who questioned wrongful conviction myths. Chief among them was Chicago Tribune columnist Eric Zorn. Even if a trial proved one again that a wrongful conviction case was a complete falsehood, as it did in 2005, Zorn was willing to assail the claims, and the lawyer who made them, in his columns.
A third inroad was into the black caucuses in the inner cities. From the earliest days representing the Black Panthers, the PLO had established ties to African American political leaders. When Black Panthers like Bobby Rush—who had been at the Panther apartment shortly before the shoot out in 1969—moved into the political establishment, much as former WU members had moved into academia, these ties became invaluable.
All of brings us back to the dilemma Mayor Daley faced in 1992.
Here is why.
In 1982, when Andrew Wilson was arrested for murdering the two police officers and then showed up at central detention badly beaten, Daley was the chief prosecutor in the city. Two doctors had documented Wilson’s abuse, but Daley had never done anything about it.
Now, as the mayor, he was being confronted by leaders in the African American community asking him why he didn’t do anything about it back then and why he wasn’t doing anything about Jon Burge now.
Organizations had formed demanding action, just as they had in the 1960s. They marched, protested, shouted.
And there is one political reality every mayor in Chicago had to face: It is virtually impossible to maintain the position of Mayor in Chicago without the black vote.
So Daley did what many leaders of political machines do—and what he did dozens of times in the decades he ran the city with an iron fist: He threw an underling under the bus and let that underling take the fall.
Daley appointed a new director of the agency that oversees police misconduct, the Office of Professional Standards (OPS), to look once again into the allegations against Burge and his men. Her name was Gayle Shines.
It is important to remember that this decision from Daley came after the PLO lost two trials in their attempt to pin torture allegations on Burge and after previous OPS investigations nearly ten years earlier had not sustained any complaints against Burge in connection with Andrew Wilson.
Sure enough, this second OPS investigation concluded there was widespread abuse in the police department and recommended that Burge should be fired.
Cops and the cop union were furious, as were attorneys representing them.
Then FOP President John Dineen in the Tribune:
Dineen said it was unfair for the Office of Professional Standards to file charges nine and a half years later while the agency was “into its third director. Francis Nolan [a former director] couldn’t find anything wrong. David Fogel [who succeeded Nolan] couldn’t find anything wrong.
“Suddenly, Gayle Shines, finds something wrong. Was there something wrong, or was the political atmosphere such that they had to find something wrong?”
William Kunkle, Burge’s attorney:
“I think it is atrocious that OPS would reinstate these charges after nine and a half years, when Andrew Wilson has never made himself available to any prosecutorial agency or the OPS to be interviewed with respect to these charges.
Police Board hearings were convened to determine whether Burge would be fired in light of this last OPS investigation.
The family members of the two police officers gunned down by Andrew Wilson had already relived the murders through two criminal trials and two civil trials. Now they were forced once again to relive them and endure Wilson’s claims in another proceeding, one more resembling a kangaroo court than a legitimate trial proceeding.
This was, after all, a man who was supposed to have been executed.
It didn’t matter. It was all part of a process by the PLO to transform killers and other violent criminals into victims and make the police the offenders.
And if it meant making the family members of the victims reliving time and again the horrible murder of their loved ones, well, then, so be it.
As it was, Daley turning OPS into a kind of instrument of the PLO was perhaps the most crucial moment in the entire history of “the movement,” when the most radical, lawless groups on the left coalesced and compelled a city’s institution, OPS, to bend to their will, even after they had utterly failed to push their cause in the courts.
From the moment the PLO compelled Daley to fire Burge, “the movement” had its foot in the door, and the “Ferguson Effect” was taking shape.
Bit by bit, these radicals were able to undermine city institutions, compelling them to betray the obligations of their office, just as Daley had perverted the office OPS to go after Burge and his men.
While their advocates celebrated the firing of Burge as a grand achievement for justice and human rights, in reality it was a fundamental breakdown of the democratic process, one that took shape, ironically, through the city’s Democratic Party.
The emergence of “the movement” pushed the Democratic Party far to the left, away from the traditional power bases of representing the working class and fighting for reform within the system by using the government as an instrument to help the poor, unfortunate and the weak. Instead, the party morphed into a kind of schizophrenic state, in which, on the one hand, it was supposed to bolster the democratic system, but, on the other, gave itself over to factions who did not like democracy at all—whether it was the upper class Marxists from the 1960s who became terrorists or terrorist supporters, like the PLO and WU, or black militant organizations like the Black Panthers, or even starry-eyed students spellbound by the possibility that they might release an “innocent” man from prison.
Soon after the PLO got Burge fired they began a larger offensive against the police. They and their allies began claiming that the police, even ones who had never worked with Burge, had also framed innocent men for killings. Dozens of killers were set free, even some from death row.
It didn’t matter that even a cursory review of key wrongful conviction claims showed them to be not only false, but completely absurd.
Consider the most influential wrongful conviction case, Anthony Porter—sent to death row after being convicted of killing a couple in a park in 1982—maintained that the detectives had attempted to torture him into confessing, but he would not give in.
That would be quite a strange event, since the detectives never encountered Porter in the course of their investigation. How, then, could they have tortured him?
This simple fact was never even acknowledged by the Chicago media as they ran one story after another about the detectives framing Porter, in strict obedience to the party line of activists like the PLO, now the emerging power brokers in the city’s political machine.
Then there was the fact that detectives found two groups of witnesses in the Porter case who all came up with the same description of Porter murdering a couple in a park. The two groups had never met each other, and made their statements in front of several people, not just detectives. So how could detectives have conspired to make up a false story?
And if two groups of witnesses came up with the same story— how could their accounts that Porter was the offender be false?
It was impossible and a key reason why the jury in 2005 refused to give Anthony Porter a dime in his civil lawsuit against the detectives in the case. The jury realized Porter was the killer, despite the fact that wrongful conviction activists had conspired to get him out.
Time and again, one pulls back the cover of these wrongful conviction theories and their claims collapse under the barest scrutiny.
It’s not just that OPS, now called IPRA, has succumbed to the anti-police hysteria generated by the city’s wrongful conviction advocates. These advocates have made far greater inroads.
One of the crowning achievements of “the movement” is their undermining of the prosecutor’s office.
There is ample evidence, for example, that prosecutors in the Porter case violated the oaths of their office when they took a confession from another man they knew to be false, a confession that allowed Anthony Porter to get out.
It was 1999 when Northwestern University Professor David Protess and his private investigator Paul Ciolino, strong allies of the PLO, came forward with a recorded confession to the murders Anthony Porter had been convicted of, a confession made by Alstory Simon.
Not everyone in the prosecutor’s office bought the confession. The second in command at the office, Thomas Epach, advised Cook County State’s Attorney Dick Devine not to let Porter out of prison and not to indict Simon. But Devine, facing the unrelenting pressure of PLO allies of Protess and Northwestern and their media allies, went ahead anyway.
In doing so, the prosecutor betrayed not only Alstory Simon, an innocent man, but also the cops involved in the Porter case, and the entire police department, as the Porter exoneration initiated a flood of equally dubious cases.
It gets worse.
Furious at the turn of events, Epach stayed true to the oaths of his office and initiated a grand jury investigation into the Porter exoneration. Sure enough, the Northwestern case fell apart under scrutiny. A vast body of evidence showed Porter was in fact guilty.
Nevertheless, Devine pressed forward with the exoneration of Porter and taking the confession of Simon. His underling, Thomas Gainer, marched into court and took a confession from Simon when he, Gainer, knew full well there was vast exculpating evidence.
Prosecutorial misconduct doesn’t get much worse than this, perhaps the greatest prosecutorial corruption in modern history, and it was prosecutorial misconduct in the service of the wrongful conviction movement, no different than when Daley turned OPS into a tool of the PLO seven years earlier.
Even fifteen years after Porter was let out, when the next head of the prosecutors office, Anita Alvarez, was finally forced to confront Simon’s wrongful conviction, Alvarez let Simon out of prison, but refused to acknowledge the clear corruption by her predecessor. Once again, the prosecutor’s office was protecting wrongful conviction activists, covering up their corruption that gave them power.
These are examples of how the PLO’s movement infiltrated OPS and the prosecutor’s office. But it is not the end of the story.
A few years after “the movement” sprang Porter from prison, they compelled one of the most corrupt governors in the history of the state, George Ryan, into freeing four other convicted killers, one of them, Madison Hobley, who was convicted of setting a fire that killed seven people on the south side in 1987.
Governor George Ryan liberated these men from prison despite the fact that no legal proceeding had ever suggested they were innocent. It was the kind of end around the criminal justice system typical of “the movement.” Remember, the PLO utterly failed to win a case in court against Burge and his men, so they turned to a kind of arm twisting of the Mayor and the political machine. Both instances were examples of democracy undermined through intimidation and manipulation.
Never mind that the evidence of Hobley’s guilt is overwhelming, that he confessed several times. Never mind that some of the same players involved in the Porter scandal were also involved in the Hobley case, accused of making the same bribes to witnesses in the Hobley case that they have been accused of in the Porter case, and others.
Hobley set the fire that killed seven people, but he got out of prison and was given $6 million as a settlement for his “wrongful conviction,” a complete compitulation of the entire city and state to the movement through a backroom deal with one of the most corrupt governor in the state’s history.
And from this travesty something else took shape. It was through the Hobley case that the PLO and the wrongful conviction lawyers finally obtained their trophy: the criminal conviction of Jon Burge in 2011. Through the course of a civil lawsuit filed by Burge’s attorneys, Burge denied ever abusing anyone.
Based on this statement, federal prosecutors indicted Burge for perjury and obstruction of justice and he was convicted. Burge was convicted in a case arising from a man who got away with incinerating his own family, a staggering indication of just how deeply “the movement” had penetrated the country’s legal system.
Now the entire political system in Illinois seems to be working on behalf of the PLO and other wrongful conviction law firms and university departments.
In the waning moments of his doomed administration, Governor Patrick Quinn early this year released prisoners without explanation or justifying why they should be released. These were prisoners who had been supported by wrongful conviction law firms. One of the offenders had shot three police officers and been convicted on four counts of attempted murder.
That’s right. Chicago cops watched a man who had tried to murder four of their own during a traffic stop walk right out of prison without explanation, in defiance of the courts.
Since that decision, Quinn is nowhere to be seen, unable to be questioned as to why he would betray the legal system and the police in particular.
Another man released by Quinn at the same time had been convicted of perjury in a wrongful conviction case where lawyers were trying to secure the freedom of two men convicted of two grisly gang murders.
The earlier this year, Flint Taylor at the PLO bagged perhaps his greatest trophy of all. The Chicago City Council voted unanimously to grant “reparations” to supposed victims of Burge torture. Inmates from the 1970s, some convicted of murder, might now be able to garner millions from the taxpayers merely by claiming they were tortured by Burge, even when there was no evidence of abuse.
The vote compelled Burge to break his long silence with the Chicago media and make a comment to Crooked City:
This entire scenario is being manipulated by lawyers like G. Flint Taylor and his ilk. They have been getting rich for years filing specious lawsuits against Chicago Police Officers, the City of Chicago and other government entities. They know that 99% of the time the City will settle the lawsuit rather than go to trial because it’s cheaper. The City never admits wrongdoing on their part or the part of the individual defendants (police officers) when they settle.
Evidence is slowly emerging that clearly shows what happened to the dedicated Chicago Police Detectives who fought, as best we could, the worst, most violent predators on the South side of Chicago. To understand, all one has to do is review the long record of unethical criminal activity exhibited by academics and students at Northwestern University, particularly in the case of Anthony Porter, a man obviously guilty of two murders, but released from custody after an "investigation" conducted by NU professor David Protess and his students. There has never been a case with more blatant Subornation of Perjury than when they framed an innocent man, Alstory Simon, for the crime committed by Porter.
States Attorney Alvarez admitted the criminal behavior on the part of the crew from Northwestern when she announced she was dropping the case against Alstory Simon and petitioning for his release. This is not an unusual instance on the part of the Northwestern crew and slowly emerging evidence will condemn their participation in helping free other guilty criminals.
Working to free guilty, vicious criminals by the likes of G. Flint Taylor and others like him, as well as the Northwestern cabal, all with a radical political agenda, has created a thriving cottage industry in Chicago. These private attorneys grow rich because the City of Chicago is afraid to defend the lawsuits filed by these human vultures. Ask the mayor and City Counsel members how many relatives of the victims of these crimes they spoke with before deciding on their "Reparations.”
The chief spokesmen for G. Flint Taylor's reparations campaign are Darryl Cannon and Anthony Holmes. Cannon is a former El Rukn General who has been convicted of three separate murders in his long career, pleading guilty to the last one after cutting a deal for "time served." His first murder conviction was as a juvenile, so the police can't mention it, but I can. He still stands convicted of all three murders.
Anthony Holmes also had a long career. During one of his first visits to prison he was the "Barn Boss" at Statesville, when Statesville was the toughest prison in Illinois. That means he ran the prison. He was on Chicago's "10 Most Wanted" list when he was arrested for Murder. He subsequently gave a court reported confession to the crime. There was NO MOTION TO SUPRESS the confession. In fact there was no mention in public by Holmes that he was "tortured" until over a decade later, after he met G. Flint Taylor.
By the way, he claims he did 30 years for the murder. The truth is he was paroled after 11 years and got busted making a hand-to-hand dope buy from an undercover agent shortly after he was released. He went back to the joint for the Parole Violation and served a few more years. Holmes was one of the leaders of a group called "The Royal Family" which consisted of 31 ex-cons who patterned their operations after the mafia. They committed a string of commercial armed robberies unheard of at the time, and, if one of their crews got caught, they simply murdered the witnesses. I find it hard to believe that the City's political leadership could even contemplate giving "Reparations" to human vermin like them.
The media's long silence on these activities makes them complicit in the fraud being perpetrated on Chicago and the citizenry. When the true evidence finally rules the day and the record is set straight, the people who conspired to free a man like Madison Hobley, who was awarded six million dollars by the City after he burned seven people to death, including his wife and infant son, will have to pay the piper.
At that time I believe I and all the outstanding men and women I had the privilege of working with, as well as the Chicago Police Department itself, will be vindicated.
OPS, the city council, prosecutors, a governor, federal prosecutors…where does it end?
The larger, national media is only just beginning to understand exactly what the Ferguson Effect is and how deep are its roots. It will take a long time before they realize that this movement is actually an extension of a revolutionary movement that began in Chicago among the Left in the late 1960s.
It gained in power by moving into the Democratic machine that ruled the city, and then radicalized it, and now wields power on a national scale. The players and strategies honed in Chicago have now been employed throughout the country.
That is what the Ferguson Effect truly is.
Remember “Hands up, don’t shoot?”
It never happened. At least that’s what witnesses at the scene of the shooting, witnesses deemed reliable by authorities, said in their statements, if such evidence even matters anymore.
Nevertheless, the slogan “Hands up, don’t shoot” is now chanted time and time again, a dangerous ascendance of radical ideology over the rules of evidence and democratic process.
The attendant chaos in this Ferguson Effect is exactly the kind of chaos cherished by groups trying to undermine the system, not correct it.
The national media has not yet realized what is at stake in the Ferguson Effect, nor its origins.
It's a long, dark story, one that begins, and possibly ends, in the Crooked City.
Martin Preib is an awarding-winning writer and Chicago Police Officer. His first book, The Wagon and Other Stories From the City, was published by the University of Chicago Press. His second book, Crooked City, chronicles his investigation into Chicago's wrongful conviction movement and played a pivotal role in the release of Alstory Simon from prison last year. Told in the gripping tension of a crime novel, Crooked City paints a dire picture of the movement to release convicted killers from prison. Preib is currently working on a third book about an arson from 1987 on Chicago's south side that killed seven people.