The charges could not be expunged until the State Bar of Texas finished its case in July with former prosecutor Terry McEachern. He was accused of withholding information from defense attorneys about Coleman's criminal history.
The bar allowed McEachern, who was defeated in a March 2004 re-election bid, to keep his law license but placed him on probation until June 2007.
(...)
Coleman was convicted in January of perjury and sentenced to 10 years probation. He is appealing.
Why aren't the Christian conservatives out for blood on this case? The Bible prescribes the death penalty for acts of false witness. So why aren't they all over this? Where's their outrage when things like
this are done?
Early on the morning of July 23, 1999, cops burst into homes all over this tiny town in the Texas panhandle. Forty-six people—a few whites and almost half the town's black adult population—were indicted for drug trafficking. Dozens of children became virtual orphans as their parents were hauled to jail. In the coming months, 19 people would be shipped to state prison, some with sentences of 20, 60, or even 99 years.
The last trial ended in the fall of 2000, but this chapter in Tulia history has certainly not closed. Ever since the arrests, prisoners' relatives and friends have been struggling with the aftermath: destroyed families, traumatized children, townspeople's cold stares. The ripple effects of a large drug bust may be the same everywhere, but they are especially apparent in a small town, where there is none of the frenzy of urban life to hide the damage.
Mattie, a 50-year-old mother of six, was never accused of selling drugs, but she too has been punished. The undercover drug operation snared her two sons, one daughter, one brother-in-law, two nephews, one son-in-law, one niece, and two cousins. Now Mattie struggles to raise her daughter's two children and juggle two jobs, including one as a prison guard. (Her ex-husband took in a few other grandchildren.) About the undercover drug operation, Mattie says, "It has made my life miserable. My whole world seems like it fell down on me."
Make no mistake: this was a judicial pogrom. And the local media cheered it on:
Shortly after the arrests, The Tulia Sentinel ran a story on its front page with the headline "Tulia's Streets Cleared of Garbage." A reader skimming the newspaper might have thought the article had something to do with local sanitation efforts. In fact, the first paragraph stated that the arrests of the town's "known" drug dealers "had cleared away some of the garbage off Tulia's streets."
Coleman received a state "Lawman of the Year" award for his actions.
In the end, the 45 victims in this case were awarded $6 million. No, not each. That's just six million to be split among the lot of them. A pittance compared to the settlements that whites routinely get for suffering far less serious wrongs.
And their oppressors -- because
oppressors is what these men literally are -- get
probation for these crimes? Their black victims were originally sentenced to up to 99 years in prison purely on a white man's say-so -- but the white men who perpetrated this vicious act get
probation? Even though one of those oppressors
already had a prior criminal record?All of this illustrates why international scrutiny and oversight will be necessary if the Katrina victims are to be helped. Southern society lacks any real will to justice, and America as a whole lacks any real will to impose justice on the South.