At DC Superior Court, a system up at all hours under Trump’s order
In the basement of D.C. Superior Court on Monday, more than 100 men and women walked in chains or appeared on a large screen being streamed from a hospital or jail in courtroom C-10 to hear the crimes they’d been accused of committing and enter a plea.
Some had spent the entire weekend incarcerated as a result of minor charges. Among those who spent two nights in jail were a man arrested for allegedly failing to pay Metro fare at the Fort Totten station on Saturday morning, another who was accused of having an open bottle of tequila while walking to a bus station in Southeast Washington on Saturday evening, and a third who was picked up by police that evening after they said they observed him urinating in a park in Columbia Heights, court records show.
They were among the 122 names on the “lockup list,” a roster of those detained in jail awaiting their initial appearance. At least 100 people have been scheduled to appear here each of the past three Mondays, a spike in the wake of President Donald Trump’s crackdown on D.C. crime and top D.C. prosecutor Jeanine Pirro’s order to always file the stiffest charges possible. In recent years, the U.S. attorney’s office has declined to prosecute about half the arrests made by police.
Under the new posture, this courtroom often stays in session well past sunset, even on Labor Day, when the rest of the building was deserted. On Aug. 25, court didn’t wrap up until well after midnight, according to community organizers and a judge.
An analysis of court records showed that more than half of the charges heard Monday were filed under simple assault, a misdemeanor, and drug possession. A few were charged with more serious crimes, including felony strangulation and first-degree sexual abuse.
Ninety percent of people on the list were Black and about 75 percent were men, according to court records. In each of the last two years, more than 80 percent of those arrested in D.C. were Black.
The steady stream of arrests has pushed D.C. arraignment court to the limit, community organizers said. Cases that were once dismissed immediately now land in court, requiring nearly everyone arrested on weekends held in jail until Monday. The city’s Superior Court has 13 vacant judge seats.
“Our courts are already overburdened; the D.C. system cannot sustain this influx,” said Frankie Seabron, program manager of Harriet’s Wildest Dreams, a local Black-led mutual aid and community defense organization, outside Superior Court on Monday. “We call not only on community leaders, but our elected officials to stand with us as we continue to fight to protect home rule.”
Volunteers lingered outside the courthouse, where dozens of people chanted “shame” and “free D.C.” For every person emerging after a weekend incarcerated, organizers handed them cigarettes, water bottles, bananas, bags of chips or granola bars.
Then they were handed a phone to call someone to give them a ride home.
The support efforts are one of the ways community organizers have responded to what they’ve declared a “state of emergency” amid the ongoing federalization of D.C. and a necessity to “get our city back,” they said.
One of Harriet’s Wildest Dreams’s community organizers, Afeni Evans, was arrested on Aug. 15 after being pepper-sprayed by Metro Transit Police and held in police cars for hours before being processed, she said. Police had accused her of fare evasion after they stopped her “for fraudulent use of a Kids Ride Free card,” the department said in a statement. She said she was protecting and helping Black children get home during a city-imposed curfew. Evans appeared in D.C. Superior Court and was released the next day, the charge dismissed, according to a spokeswoman for Harriet’s Wildest Dreams. Evans has since obtained a lawyer.
“The safest communities have compassion, humanity and love at the center,” Evans said during the earlier news conference, opposing the influx of law enforcement.
D.C. Mayor Muriel E. Bowser (D) has said she believes the increase in law enforcement has been effective and issued an executive order Tuesday ordering indefinite coordination between the city and federal law enforcement officials.
“Since the beginning of this federal surge of officers, it has always been my focus on - we didn’t ask for any federal officers, we’re driving crime down - but while they’re here, how can we most strategically use them to accelerate the work that MPD has done,” Bowser said at a recent news conference.
With local and federal authorities seemingly not slowing up, Seabron, with Harriet’s Wildest Dreams, said the courts “are the new front line,” encouraging people to volunteer as court watchers to keep tabs on arraignment court.
Inside the courtroom, the defendants, judge, defense attorneys, prosecutors and clerks followed a similar script, case after case. Charges ranged from fare evasion to assault with a dangerous weapon, court records show.
More than two dozen during a recent session were for minor crimes that included aggressive panhandling, marijuana possession, gambling, no permit and counterfeit tags. Six were for probation violations or outstanding warrants.
“Lockup No. 69, step out and state your name,” a court marshal said.
Shuffling with chains around their waists and ankles, one by one, they appeared before Judge J. Michael Ryan. Loved ones lined the gallery, some in tears, while they sat tight.
Step to the left if the judge ordered them released, a clerk would command, to the right if they were held without bond. Nearly all cases were “papered,” charged formally, save for a man charged with possession of an open container of alcohol after the government decided to drop the charges when he was called.
In more serious cases, such as assault with a dangerous weapon and strangulation, the judge held them without bond.
For hours, defense attorneys argued for their clients’ release, ensuring the defendants would show up for their next scheduled court date. Prosecutors wouldn’t oppose, in most cases, as many were less serious offenses. Judge Ryan would then grant the release and issue any stay-away orders.
The clerk warned them of the $1,000 fine or 180 days in jail, or both, that they could face if they fail to appear for their next court date.
Then the marshal would unlock their chains and drop the cuffs in black bins.
As many exited, their shoes flopped as they walked without laces, likely confiscated during processing, court paperwork in hand, through the doors.
The court adjourned for five minutes around 5 p.m. Charles Murdter, a retired attorney who was court-appointed to represent clients during their first appearance, stepped out for the break.
He described his role as a stand-in attorney for a client’s assigned attorney, who doesn’t have to be present for the initial appearance. Two other attorneys also were there to represent indigent clients, he said.
Lately, arraignment court has been “very busy,” Murdter said.
“As the government is papering more cases, the days have been longer,” he added.
When the five-minute recess drew to a close, Murdter said he expected court would be likely to drag on until around 9 p.m.
But it wouldn’t adjourn until an hour after that.
“I don’t know how people went for 1:30 a week ago,” Ryan, the judge, said.
Paul Duggan contributed to this report.
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