The two teens allegedly responsible for a horrible murder in Lafayette probably deserve to be tried as adults. But a judge, not a prosecutor, should have made the call.
The Colorado law that allowed the Boulder County district attorney to put 17-year-old Bryan Grove and 15-year-old Tess Damm on trial as adults contradicts much of what America’s criminal justice system stands for.
Letting elected DAs whose jobs depend on seeming tough on crime unilaterally move juveniles into adult court ensures that justice is not blind. It also ignores presumed innocence, rehabilitation and a whole bunch of other crucial concepts.
Being fair and erring on the side of caution extends beyond any individual case. Grove is charged with first- degree murder for allegedly stabbing to death Linda Damm, his girlfriend’s mom. In adult court, he faces automatic life in prison without parole if convicted. Tess Damm is looking at as much as 30 years in prison for allegedly helping plot and cover up her mother’s murder. There’s every reason to let an objective third party decide how these two teenagers get tried.
Karen Ashby, the presiding judge of Denver’s juvenile court, laid it out perfectly. She would not talk specifically about Linda Damm’s murder. Ashby also did not talk about the constitutionality of prosecutors’ determining whether young defendants should be tried as adults. Appeals courts have already ruled the practice constitutional. What Ashby talked about was a legal process that makes sense and inspires confidence.
“I believe the best practice is not to have one of the attorneys doing the case make the decision,” Ashby said.
The elected status of prosecutors just adds to their dilemma in deciding about adult charges, Ashby said.
“That’s why you need a neutral party,” the judge explained. “Most district attorneys are ethical. But it is a difficult position for an elected official.”
This is not exactly radical thinking. It is the rule in many states, and it reflects the policy of the national organization of juvenile judges to which Ashby belongs. The need for judges to decide if juveniles are tried as adults recognizes the obvious: If you leave it up to prosecutors, they will almost always go with adult trials, the same way that if you left it up to defense attorneys, every teen perp would stay in the juvenile court system. That’s how advocates properly operate.
Seven years in a prison facility is the most time you can get for the worst crime in juvenile sentencing, said defense attorney Kurt Metsger.
Eight years in the penitentiary is the least time you can get in a routine adult court sentencing for a Class 2 felony.
Of course, you don’t do the crime if you can’t do the time. But that is not how the fates of teen criminals are supposed to be determined in America.
Transfer hearings, where judges weigh arguments for trying juveniles as adults, are “absolutely necessary,” Metsger said.
This isn’t about coddling the likes of Bryan Grove and Tess Damm. It’s about proving this country’s justice system can meet its stated expectations.
Prosecutors may ask for transfer hearings by judges but almost never do.
The opposite should be true.
“We’ve not had a transfer hearing for 8 1/2 years,” Ashby said of Denver’s juvenile court. In that time, plenty of juveniles have been tried as adults.
It is the same across Colorado. Prosecutors motivated by their natural role determine if teenagers are tried where they can go to prison for decades, if not life.
“There’s no guidance for the district attorneys to consider,” Ashby said. “They may just look at the nature of the offense.” By law, Ashby added, judges at transfer hearings must answer a list of questions about community interests, maturity, mental health and the like.
In the Colorado Revised Statutes, that list stretches a page and a half.
It is long because trying teens as adults is a serious call.
A lot more serious than leaving it up to prosecutors.
Jim Spencer’s column appears Monday, Wednesday and Friday. He can be reached at 303-954-1771, jspencer@denverpost.com or blogs.denverpost.com/spencer.
