Racism Charged in Cop-On-Cop Violence

By: Susan Hsu and Rebecca AndersonThe beating of black Chicago Police Officer Eric L. Holder by white officers in July 1997 was one of Chicago’s most high-profile cases of officer-on-officer violence in recent years. But it was not the only case.

While police officials say these incidents are rare, the Office of Professional Standards, which investigates allegations of misconduct, cannot provide information on how many police have filed complaints against other officers.

Still, some cases do end up in court. For example, in June 1994, Herbert Brown, a black narcotics officer working undercover in the West Side’s 15th District, charged he was struck and choked by two white tactical officers, Timothy Walters and Russell Lucas, who arrested him on drug charges, U.S. District Court records show.

Brown filed a federal lawsuit against the city of Chicago and the officers on Jan. 13, 1995. The case was settled for an undisclosed amount, court records show.

On Oct. 23, 1995, 19-year Police Officer Brenda Collins, an African American, sued the city and three officers, William Nass, Kim Anderson and Michael Reynolds. Among the charges: excessive force, false arrest, assault and battery, and ethnic intimidation.

Collins, an undercover officer in the organized crime and intelligence unit, was driving on the Northwest Side on Aug. 19, 1995, when she nearly collided with Nass. He pulled her over and was joined by officers Anderson and Reynolds, Collins alleged. They physically abused and handcuffed her, and Nass and Anderson called her “nigger,” Collins charged. But a jury ruled in favor of the defendants.

Racial stereotyping may be behind such alleged incidents, said William Geller, director of Geller and Associates, a law enforcement consulting firm in north suburban Wilmette. “It’s a culturally influenced determination by cops of what bad guys look like,” he said.

Childhood Dream
Police Officer Shelisa Jones, 29, said she was living out her childhood dream when she became a Chicago police officer in July 1995. She was assigned to finish her training at the 11th District station, 3151 W. Harrison St. on the West Side.

“I took this job seriously—it’s something I’ve wanted to do since I was a little bitty girl,” said Jones, who grew up on the West Side.

But on June 12, 1997, Jones and Police Officer Vicki Igess, both of whom are black, filed a federal civil rights lawsuit against the city and six police officers. On June 13, 1996, the two women charged, they finished their shift, left the station and returned about 3 a.m. in plain clothes to use the bathroom.

When Igess entered the locker room, Police Officers Kimberly Vick, an African American, and Margaret Qualizza, who is white, asked to see her identification because she was in civilian clothes. Igess would not comment for this article, but said in her court deposition that she believed the two officers were joking and replied, “I’m a citizen off of Flournoy,” a reference to a nearby street.

When they persisted, Igess identified herself as an officer and said her ID was in her car. In the lawsuit, Igess said Vick and Qualizza then shoved her and said she was under arrest.

Jones entered and identified Igess and herself as police officers. After the group moved upstairs, Police Officer Christopher Dobek, who is white, and an unidentified white female officer attacked Jones, “repeatedly slamming the back of Jones’ head into the wall,” according to court records.

Finally, Police Officer Roberto Jackson, an African American woman on desk duty, recognized Jones and Igess, and intervened.

Others involved with the case either could not be located or would not answer questions. Jones’ story was “not a full, accurate description of what happened that night,” said Jennifer Hoyle, a public information officer for the city Department of Law, which represented the defendants. The officers did not recognize Igess or Jones, who were “unwilling” to produce identification, she said. There was no evidence of a physical altercation, and Vick and Qualizza denied making racial remarks, Hoyle added.

Capt. Charles Dulay did not open a required investigation of the incident that night. He explained in a report filed a month later: “I considered it to be an argument between police officers which occurred in a police facility, outside of public view, and which had been resolved. … People were tired, they were tense.”

But Jones and Igess each received two-day suspensions for “engaging in an unjustified verbal altercation” and for not carrying identification, said their attorney, Craig B. Futterman of Futterman & Howard, a Chicago law firm. No one else was punished for the alleged beating, he said. Disciplinary action ranged from reprimands to suspensions, said Patrick Camden, deputy director of news affairs for the Chicago Police Department. But he would not identify the officers or their specific punishments.

On May 20, 1998, a jury ruled against Jones and Igess. The city filed a motion to recover its legal expenses, and Jones and Igess paid $12,382, Futterman said.

Jones now works in the 2nd District and is pursuing a master’s degree in social service administration at the University of Chicago. And she wonders how civilians—particularly minorities—are treated by police. “I take off my uniform and it’s like I’m not the same. And sometimes [white officers] will remind you of that.”

For more information on police accountability, visit the following sites:

w Report of the Commission on Police Integrity

w The Chicago Police Department

w Human Rights Watch report on Chicago in Shielded from Justice: Police Accountability and Brutality in the United States

w The National Coalition on Police Accountability and Citizens Alert

w California Scientific Software, the creators of BrainMaker

w Read the Reporter's story on policing the police: Police Brutality Complaints Decline; Disciplinary Actions Increase, September 1990. Also see Death Behind Bars, March 1999.

Contributing: Mick Dumke. Peggy A. Floume, Chanel Polk and J. Coyden Palmer helped research this article.