Pubdate: Thu, 16 May 2002
Source: Dallas Observer (TX)
Copyright: 2002 2000 New Times, Inc.
Contact: http://www.dallasobserver.com/
Details: http://www.mapinc.org/media/884
Author: Mark Donald
INHALE WITH HALE
Itinerant Pro-Pot Candidate Steven Hale Is Down Again, But Not Out
You'd almost have to be stoned to mix pot and politics, particularly if you
were running for prosecuting attorney.
If elected, it would be your job to uphold the very law you had a fondness
for breaking.
But Stephen Hale doesn't believe he's being hypocritical when he stumps for
district attorney, which is just about every recent election cycle. "A
prosecutor's job is to see that justice is done," he says. "It's unjust to
prosecute people for possessing small amounts of marijuana--and a waste of
valuable police resources." That's why he dismissed more than 500 cases
while he was Wise County district attorney, alienating the conservative
Baptist community until he was voted out of office in 1996. That's why he
ran for district attorney in Denton County in 1998, until his race
unraveled after he was charged with delivering marijuana to a former
girlfriend. That's why he planned to run for district attorney in Harris
County until the Democratic Party withdrew his name from the ballot.
And that's why he ran for district attorney in Galveston County until he
was defeated in the March Democratic primary. "It's hard building a
constituency out of old stoners," he says. "They just forget to vote."
At 49, Hale easily could be the next poster boy for marijuana activists as
they turn their statewide lobbying efforts from medical to personal use.
His campaigns don't bother with crime statistics, docket management or
party politics.
They are defined by one issue, the decriminalization of marijuana--the same
issue that has defined and devastated his life.
Born in Dallas, Hale attended Mountain View College, until he was drafted
into the Army, where his pot smoking picked up considerably, he says. "It
made being a soldier a lot easier to take." It also made him careless.
While retrieving a package of pot for an Army buddy at a bus station, he
was busted by the Florida police.
In 1974, he received three years' probation, which was expunged after he
completed his sentence.
After leaving the Army, he attended North Texas State University (now the
University of North Texas) in Denton, and then South Texas College of Law
in Houston where he gained his law degree.
The state Bar, however, refused to allow him to take the Bar exam. Its
board of law examiners, he says, was concerned with only one question: Have
you smoked marijuana since you got out of the Army? His honesty resulted in
the board finding "that you do not possess present good moral character."
"So I showed them," he says. "I moved to Alaska," which at the time was one
of the few states that had made it legal to possess marijuana in the
privacy of your own home. For the next five years, he built a criminal
practice, honing his considerable trial skills by representing a rogue's
gallery of down-and-outers. But he tired of cold weather, and in 1985
returned to Texas, assuring the state Bar that if it would admit him, he
had no intention of smoking pot. It did, and he didn't--at least not while
he was an assistant district attorney in Grayson County, where he was
obliged to prosecute marijuana cases.
When his parents retired to Wise County, he set up his law practice in
Decatur before deciding to run for county attorney in 1992. He handily
defeated his opponent, who also had a marijuana conviction, which
effectively removed the issue from the campaign.
Although Hale claims he ran with no pot agenda, he began dismissing
marijuana cases (possession under 4 ounces) "in the interest of justice"
shortly after he took office.
When the sheriff caught on eight months later, Hale stood by his policy.
This outraged several local narcotics officers who enlisted the help of the
Wise County Messenger, which began a virulent campaign to rid the county of
its prosecutor. Not that Hale was without his supporters, many of whom were
pleased with his job performance. But he drew an opponent and lost by more
than 350 votes after a bitter campaign that had him fending off rumors of
homosexuality and drug parties. "Basically, politics suck," he told the
Dallas Observer ("Zero Tolerance," November 14, 1996) in its profile of the
race.
That attitude didn't last long. In 1997, friends persuaded him to move to
Denton County to run for district attorney on a pro-pot platform. "I didn't
think I could win," he admits. "But if enough people supported a marijuana
candidate, it might send a message to the Legislature that the law needed
to be changed." Hale didn't fathom the depths of the resentment he still
engendered from law enforcement. In June 1997, six months before he
announced for district attorney, a former girlfriend, Leah Hall, asked him
to help her find some pot, he says. Time and again, he refused, but she
claimed she was trying to kick a Valium addiction and pot eased her
withdrawal. Turns out, Hall was a paid informant for "many of the same
narcotics officers whose cases I had dismissed," Hale says. Although he
eventually gave ("not sold," he stresses) Hall 2 ounces of marijuana, the
police didn't arrest him until nine months after the incident, just a week
after Hale became the Democratic candidate for district attorney.
With his indictment, Hale attempted to withdraw from the race; however, the
secretary of state kept his name on the ballot because his withdrawal
letter was not notarized.
Despite receiving a two-year deferred probation on the delivery charge, he
still received 26 percent of the vote. The state Bar also suspended his law
license for 17 months, during which time he moved to Houston where he could
only find work as a courier driver.
When he learned there would be an open seat for the Harris County district
attorney's race in 2000, he again felt compelled to run.
"Because I was a courier driver, I figured I could pass out fliers to get
my name out," he says. "That would give me a soapbox for the cause." The
Harris County Democratic Party saw it differently, fielding another
candidate, he says, and removing his name from the primary ballot because
his law license was suspended when he filed.
Arguing his suspension would be lifted before the general election, Hale
sued and lost. With his political future as limited as his job prospects,
he moved to Galveston to pursue a career in bartending.
He worked at a popular beach bar but didn't get many shifts, he says,
"because I am bald and ugly." Instead he bided his time until October 2000,
when his law license was restored.
Quickly, he built up a law practice, gaining a reputation in this laid-back
community, says Galveston lawyer Wayne Lynch, "as someone who fights for
his clients." Then came the news that the current district attorney was
retiring, and once again, Hale couldn't resist. "I guess I am just a
political junkie," he says.
Two other lawyers, both with histories as high-level prosecutors, also
sought the Democratic nomination. "We joked that Stephen should use the
slogan 'Inhale With Hale,'" says candidate Margaret Hindman. "But people
did take him seriously." Apparently, Hale struck a chord with fellow
surfers, aging hippies and libertarian retirees. "They wanted to vote for
him to make a statement," Hindman says.
Hale stayed on message, passing out fliers that succinctly put the issue
before voters. "Decriminalize Marijuana. Vote Stephen Hale for District
Attorney." The other candidates maintained it was the Legislature's job to
change unjust laws; a prosecutor, on the other hand, must enforce all the
laws, including those for pot possession. The electorate must have agreed;
Hale ran a distant third, receiving only 12.6 percent of the vote.
Yet even in defeat, he remains undaunted: His law practice is thriving, he
surfs when the tide is high, and in true political fashion, he dances
around questions regarding any plans he might have to run for the
Legislature. "Let's just say I am not ruling it out."
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MAP posted-by: Larry Stevens