Prison and jail officers often encounter extremely violent inmates who are a serious threat to themselves, staff, and other inmates. In these situations, normal restraining devices – handcuffs, waist chains, and leg irons – are simply not enough to properly subdue the unruly prisoner. The most effective means to safely restrain and transport combative prisoners is to utilize a restraint chair.

Restraint chairs completely immobilize the prisoner’s torso and limbs. Special attachments can also limit head movement. Once the inmate is securely fastened to the chair he can be wheeled (the chair is designed to tilt back on two rear wheels similar to a furniture dolly) to desired destinations, such as the medical department, court hearings, segregation and other areas, such as the special housing unit (SHU).

Under no circumstances should restraint chairs be used as a means of punishment. Also, prisoners should not be left seated in a restraint chair for more than two hours.

*Tomorrow – Author Lori Lake: Guns, Guns, Guns!

Please join us as for part one of a three part series about the firearms carried by law enforcement officers. Lori is also going to give us a peek at the guns toted by bad guys, too.

Police Officer Lanny Ash

My mother always told me that people who roamed the streets past midnight were up to no good. I found out just how right she was when I became a police officer working the graveyard shift. When the clock strikes twelve, the crazies of the world definitely begin to creep out of the shadows. Their mission—to do bad things.

Many police officers actually prefer to work the night shift because of all the action. The busiest hours for law enforcement are normally between 10pm and 2am. That’s when nice turns to mean and good switches to evil. Unfortunately, late and lonely nights can bring on bouts of sadness and depression, too. Such was the case for a young Ohio woman who picked the graveyard shift to end her life. Fortunately for her, Officer Lanny Ash was working midnights that month.

Officer Ash received the 2:15 am call about a woman threatening to end her life by jumping off a highway overpass into the traffic below. When he arrived at the base of the highway bridge, another officer was already on the overpass talking to the 140 lb, distraught woman. Before Officer Ash could join his partner in the effort to calm the woman, she jumped. Officer Ash quickly moved into position and caught her, severely injuring both his arms. The woman received a broken elbow – her only injury.

There’s no doubt Officer Lanny Ash saved this woman’s life while risking his own. Of course, he, like most officers, felt his actions were no big deal. That’s what cops do. It’s part of the job.

For his bravery, he was awarded his department’s second highest honor, The Meritorious Service Ribbon.

Officer Ash, you are truly one of Friday’s Heroes.

Jessa Lutz is a private bar criminal defense attorney in Madison, Wisconsin. She runs a two attorney firm, Frederick/Nicholson, LLC,  with her business partner, Terry Frederick.  Jessa attended the University of Michigan for her undergraduate studies and the University of Wisconsin law school.  She is a member of the Wisconsin Bar, the Dane County Bar Association, and the Wisconsin Association of Criminal Defense Attorneys.  Frederick/Nicholson, LLC provides all types of criminal defense both state and federal, including felonies, misdemeanors, and OWI/traffic offenses.  Jessa has successfully litigated a number of criminal cases both at the pre-trial stage and through jury trials, winning dismissals and acquittals for clients in both felony and misdemeanor matters. In her spare time, Jessa enjoys art, books, strong ale, good music, and not being in a suit.

Jessa Lutz:

One of the (many) things I never expected when I was making the decision to become a criminal defense attorney was what an attraction I would be to the accountants and software developers of the world at cocktail parties. What starts out as quotidian, polite small talk quickly turns into one of those rubbernecking, scene-of-the-accident-stare type things. People immediately take a hushed tone, grab my arm, and, like we’re old friends, say “Can I ask you a question about that?” The inquiry that follows is predictable.  People want to know one of two things. First, how is it that I can do what I do every day and live with myself, defending guilty people, trying to keep them out of prison? Second, is it, in real life, like it is on television?

To tell you anything at all about my job requires me, oddly, to be rather forthcoming about something rather personal—my sleep patterns. That is, am I getting any, or am I waking up every night, tortured with my role as the devil’s advocate? That whole moral dilemma, if you will. What keeps me up at night. I spend the better part of my day, every day, with criminals. These are people accused of doing reprehensible things. I tend to focus on sexual assault and domestic violence cases. Thus, I’m smack dab in the center of crying victims, wounded children, blood spatter, rape kits, photographs of bruises, stitches and missing teeth. You know when the limousine liberals at the aforementioned cocktail parties tell you that they’re for treatment, not incarceration for non-violent offenders? Yeah. They aren’t talking about my average client; at least, they don’t think that they are.

First off, let me start by saying this: I almost never know whether my clients are guilty or innocent. This is true for a host of reasons, but mainly because I don’t ask.  I don’t ask because, first, whatever version of events a client tells me, I’m stuck with, since I can’t knowingly suborn perjury (meaning, if somebody tells me it was self-defense, and then later produces an alibi witness claiming the guy was 200 miles from the scene of the crime, the Bar has a bit of a problem with me putting Joe Citizen up on the stand to flat out lie to a jury) and secondly, it doesn’t really matter to me if they are innocent or not. That might sound strange to some people, but it’s true. To me, what matters is whether the government can prove their case against my client. I believe fervently in the constitutional safeguards put in place to protect the accused, in the right to a fair trial. I believe in the saying that it is better for ten guilty men to go free than for one innocent person to be convicted. Most of all, I believe the government should be held to their burden. If the government can’t show beyond a reasonable doubt that my guy is the one that did the crime, then he should be off the hook. Over time, I think every defense attorney’s focus shifts from innocence and guilt to strength of the evidence and what can be proven. It’s a natural progression.

I’d also note that innocent clients, as a rule, are particularly frightening. They’re the ones that I lose sleep over.  If someone is guilty, and the evidence is strong enough to persuade people of that guilt, and the person has had a good, competent attorney that files motions and challenges things and forces the government to do its job; if all of the procedural barricades are put up and zealously advocated for, and then the person is still convicted, well, that’s one thing.  To be the only person standing between an innocent man and a prison cell is another thing entirely.

A lot of times, it takes the better part of a year to get a case to trial—and that’s in Wisconsin, where, though we have a fair amount of crime, the system isn’t nearly as backlogged as it is in larger, more metropolitan areas.  Somewhere like Cook County or South Central Los Angeles, I imagine the wait is much longer.   Many of my clients come from poverty-stricken backgrounds and simply cannot afford to both pay an attorney and post their high cash bail. Thus, that year or so that they’re waiting for trial, they’re sitting in jail.  Sure, that’s jail, not prison, but whoever tells you that sitting county time without work release isn’t hard time hasn’t ever been to county.  Over the course of this time, clients become increasingly disconnected to family members and friends.  Sometimes, I’m the only person they talk to that isn’t another inmate or a deputy for days, if not weeks.  The lack of human contact, of a person’s utter inability to communicate with the outside world, with loved ones, makes me sick to my stomach when I think about it—even if they’re guilty. It tortures me if they’re innocent.

Since I can sometimes be the only person they get a chance to talk to, I get to know my clients fairly well. I get the lion’s share of their fears, their hopes and dreams, their feelings of frustration about the system. Through the hours and hours I spend hearing about their lives, I’ve come to the following conclusion.  I think it’s worth nothing—and, feel free to completely write this off, because most people don’t believe me—-but my clients, by and large, are not monsters.  They aren’t evil, despite being accused of doing some pretty evil things. Most of the time, they didn’t have a grand plan. Most of the time, there’s no plan at all. Said reprehensible action is undertaken through instinct, or substance abuse issues, or mental health issues, or learned behavior, or some combination of all of the above. Many of my clients lack significant formal education or job skills. They lack stable home environments, and any semblance of normalcy in their peer group. Many of them have said or written things that have made me stop and think about how I’m living my life. I’ve walked out of the jail on a number of occasions shaking my head at what a waste it is that we’re keeping a client of mine locked up.  I’ve handled hundreds of criminal cases, and I can count on one hand the number of clients I’ve represented whom I would describe as being truly “bad” people. This is true in spite of what they may have done.

This is one of my biggest complaints about novels and television shows about the criminal—that there’s this dream of a great criminal mastermind. I’ve yet to meet one. I’m not saying they aren’t out there, but it is rare, at best.  The twenty-two year old kid who decides to rob a convenience store to support his smack habit sure as hell ain’t it. Neither is the drunk guy at the party who grabs a girl’s ass without her permission.

Otherwise, the differences are more mundane. Most of us in real life aren’t nearly as good looking as the television stars that portray district attorneys and defense counsel on television. We probably aren’t as articulate, either—but I like to think I can string together coherent sentences for a closing argument. We certainly don’t seemingly effortlessly get “the real killer” to confess on the witness stand. (Though I do have a friend in the DA’s office who had one faint once, under the pressure of cross-examination). Public defenders, though undoubtedly overworked and underpaid, are often some of the best trial attorneys you’ll ever encounter—this is a far cry from the myth of the hapless PD who misses crucial evidence.

Something that is true? It gets wild. I’ve had clients dragged out screaming at the judge, had bizarre sexual videotapes show up as “evidence” in unmarked packages, uncovered sinister plots beneath the surface of seemingly simple arguments, and gone countless rounds at high volume, arguing my point.  In criminal law, as compared to civil, many motions are made right on the spot, without time to research the issue thoroughly and brief it, so a lot falls on your wits and ability to think on your feet. The things that happen in my average work week don’t happen to other people.  I’m in jails, prisons, mental hospitals, and the courtroom—and it is, at the end of the day, fascinating.  I suppose that’s why I’m always asked about it at cocktail parties.

Thermal imaging and night vision are NOT the same. Night-vision equipment needs some sort of light to work properly. Thermal imaging devices don’t use light to operate. Instead, they detect differences in temperature. For example, TI can see various building materials, such as wall studs, floor joists, HVAC ducting, and window and door frames, inside a structure. The equipment is able to do so because of the differences in densities of the materials (different densities radiate heat differently).

TI devices cannot see people inside buildings. That’s a TV and film myth. There is technology available that does detect the presence of people inside buildings, but that’s a topic for another day.

A thermal imaging device can detect hidden compartments inside a building, such as hiding places and secret compartments used for concealing narcotics, cash, and weapons.

Police aircraft are often fitted with thermal imaging equipment called FLIR (Forward Looking Infrared ) systems. These devices are normally attached to the front of the aircraft, like the one pictured above (the upside-down, black and white, dome shaped object hanging below the door).

Thermal imaging/FLIR device and videocamera. The device can rotate a full 360 degrees, and has zoom capability.

The FLIR (pronounced – fleer) is gyro-stabilized to ensure steady imagery (images can be recorded on a video recorder inside the aircraft). A cockpit monitor also allows the crew to view the images in real time.

Law enforcement officers are able to search large areas at night, in total darkness, for missing and wanted persons. They’re also able to detect freshly turned earth (graves), which enables officers to locate the body of a murder victim.

Thermal imaging devices are also available as handheld models.

Handheld thermal imaging device

Thermal imaging detects a human walking  through a neighborhood.

Thermal imaging shows a man wearing a bullet resistant vest, holding a handgun.

Night vision scopes must have some sort of light source to operate properly. The images are seen in the familiar green tone.

Thermal image of author Terry Odell and her husband. Now that’s a hot couple!

The U.S. Supreme Court has ruled that the use of thermal imaging devices on private property, such as a home or personal office, requires a search warrant.

SUPREME COURT OF THE UNITED STATES

KYLLO v. UNITED STATES

CERTIORARI TO THE UNITED STATES COURT OF APPEALS FOR THE NINTH CIRCUIT

No. 99—8508. Argued February 20, 2001–Decided June 11, 2001

Suspicious that marijuana was being grown in petitioner Kyllo’s home in a triplex, agents used a thermal imaging device to scan the triplex to determine if the amount of heat emanating from it was consistent with the high-intensity lamps typically used for indoor marijuana growth. The scan showed that Kyllo’s garage roof and a side wall were relatively hot compared to the rest of his home and substantially warmer than the neighboring units. Based in part on the thermal imaging, a Federal Magistrate Judge issued a warrant to search Kyllo’s home, where the agents found marijuana growing. After Kyllo was indicted on a federal drug charge, he unsuccessfully moved to suppress the evidence seized from his home and then entered a conditional guilty plea. The Ninth Circuit ultimately affirmed, upholding the thermal imaging on the ground that Kyllo had shown no subjective expectation of privacy because he had made no attempt to conceal the heat escaping from his home. Even if he had, ruled the court, there was no objectively reasonable expectation of privacy because the thermal imager did not expose any intimate details of Kyllo’s life, only amorphous hot spots on his home’s exterior.

Held: Where, as here, the Government uses a device that is not in general public use, to explore details of a private home that would previously have been unknowable without physical intrusion, the surveillance is a Fourth Amendment “search,” and is presumptively unreasonable without a warrant. Pp. 3—13.

(a) The question whether a warrantless search of a home is reasonable and hence constitutional must be answered no in most instances, but the antecedent question whether a Fourth Amendment “search” has occurred is not so simple. This Court has approved warrantless visual surveillance of a home, see California v. Ciraolo, 476 U.S. 207, 213, ruling that visual observation is no “search” at all, see Dow Chemical Co. v. United States, 476 U.S. 227, 234—235, 239. In assessing when a search is not a search, the Court has adapted a principle first enunciated in Katz v. United States, 389 U.S. 347, 361: A “search” does not occur–even when its object is a house explicitly protected by the Fourth Amendment–unless the individual manifested a subjective expectation of privacy in the searched object, and society is willing to recognize that expectation as reasonable, see, e.g., California v. Ciraolo, supra, at 211. Pp. 3—5.

(b) While it may be difficult to refine the Katz test in some instances, in the case of the search of a home’s interior–the prototypical and hence most commonly litigated area of protected privacy–there is a ready criterion, with roots deep in the common law, of the minimal expectation of privacy that exists, and that is acknowledged to be reasonable. To withdraw protection of this minimum expectation would be to permit police technology to erode the privacy guaranteed by the Fourth Amendment. Thus, obtaining by sense-enhancing technology any information regarding the home’s interior that could not otherwise have been obtained without physical “intrusion into a constitutionally protected area,” Silverman v. United States, 365 U.S. 505, 512, constitutes a search–at least where (as here) the technology in question is not in general public use. This assures preservation of that degree of privacy against government that existed when the Fourth Amendment was adopted. Pp. 6—7.

(c) Based on this criterion, the information obtained by the thermal imager in this case was the product of a search. The Court rejects the Government’s argument that the thermal imaging must be upheld because it detected only heat radiating from the home’s external surface. Such a mechanical interpretation of the Fourth Amendment was rejected in Katz, where the eavesdropping device in question picked up only sound waves that reached the exterior of the phone booth to which it was attached. Reversing that approach would leave the homeowner at the mercy of advancing technology–including imaging technology that could discern all human activity in the home. Also rejected is the Government’s contention that the thermal imaging was constitutional because it did not detect “intimate details.” Such an approach would be wrong in principle because, in the sanctity of the home, all details are intimate details. See e.g., United States v. Karo, 468 U.S. 705; Dow Chemical, supra, at 238, distinguished. It would also be impractical in application, failing to provide a workable accommodation between law enforcement needs and Fourth Amendment interests. See Oliver v. United States, 466 U.S. 170, 181. Pp. 7—12.

(d) Since the imaging in this case was an unlawful search, it will remain for the District Court to determine whether, without the evidence it provided, the search warrant was supported by probable cause–and if not, whether there is any other basis for supporting admission of that evidence. Pp. 12—13.

190 F.3d 1041, reversed and remanded.

Scalia, J., delivered the opinion of the Court, in which Souter, Thomas, Ginsburg, and Breyer, JJ., joined. Stevens, J., filed a dissenting opinion, in which Rehnquist, C. J., and O’Connor and Kennedy, JJ., joined.