Pubdate: Sun, 11 Jan 2004 Source: Mobile Register (AL) Copyright: 2004 Mobile Register. Contact: http://www.al.com/mobileregister/today/ Details: http://www.mapinc.org/media/269 Author: Joe Danborn, Staff Reporter BEASLEY HOPES SENTENCING ERROR OPENS CELL DOOR For the time being, the most controversial figure of the civil rights era in Mobile sits in a federal prison in Florida, nearly 14 years and counting into a sentence of life without parole for conspiring to push crack cocaine. Noble Columbus Beasley, 71, and his supporters -- who know him as "Bip" -- have long argued that he was framed as punishment for his outspokenness for black rights in the 1960s and '70s. Authorities have dismissed portrayals of Beasley as a man persecuted for his advocacy, noting his convictions for extortion and dealing heroin prior to his 1990 crack conviction. Beasley's guilt or innocence doesn't much matter, however, when it comes to the most recent filings in his crack case, which center on an apparent sentencing miscalculation by court officials. Nearly everyone involved seems to agree that Beasley was incorrectly sentenced, and that the proper term should have ranged from less than 23 years up to nearly 34 years. The error offers at least some hope for him that he could walk out of prison one day. Beasley himself discovered the discrepancy while researching behind bars for his repeated, unsuccessful appeals and his lawsuits against a federal judge, an employee in the court clerk's office and his prison warden, among others. "Nobody picked it up 'til later, and to his credit, he was the one who did," said Federal Defender Carlos Williams of Mobile, Beasley's new lawyer. Getting Beasley a release date, however, isn't as simple as having deputy U.S. marshals bring him from his cell to the federal courthouse downtown on St. Joseph Street for a fresh sentencing hearing before U.S. District Judge William Steele. The same pleadings that drew attention to the incorrect sentence also all but exhausted Beasley's avenues for appeal. Beasley, a bear-sized man who grew up in the Toulminville neighborhood of north Mobile, made his name rallying, antagonizing and organizing others. As head of the Neighborhood Organized Workers during the civil rights era, Beasley led protests against the America's Junior Miss program and various Mardi Gras events, among other targets. "His work to foster equal opportunity for his people is well documented," Mobile City Councilman Fred Richardson wrote of his former NOW comrade in one of numerous letters to Steele from Beasley supporters last year. But Beasley also clashed with the local NAACP chapter, as well as the Mobile County Improvement Association, a coalition of black educators. Longtime City Commissioner Joe Langan -- widely considered a racial progressive -- once said that descriptions of Beasley as a force for positive change turned his stomach, according to a 1997 article in Mobile Bay Monthly magazine. The Rev. William James, of St. Patrick's Catholic Church in Robertsdale, told Steele in a letter that his days as pastor in Toulminville, where he met regularly with Beasley and joined some of his demonstrations, were among the fondest of his 50 years as a priest in the Mobile area. "Mr. Beasley was a strong leader in many ways, and we were good friends," James wrote. "That his life at that time, as leader and as a member of the black community of Mobile, was fraught with a mixture of the good and the struggle and pain of most black people, goes without saying." In July 1968, black radical Stokely Carmichael visited Mobile on NOW's invitation, with Beasley welcoming him at the airport. Police deployed en masse, anticipating public disturbances that never occurred after Carmichael spoke to a crowd of more than 700 downtown, according to news accounts. Police took Beasley into custody more than once during his marches and demonstrations. But his first serious difficulty with the law came in 1970: He was charged with murdering a man who had reportedly talked about taking money to kill him. Beasley gained acquittal at the highly publicized trial, which he claimed was an attempt to embarrass him. By 1974, he went back on trial, was convicted of heroin-dealing and federal income tax violations, and handed a 23-year prison term. After Beasley served several years, his sentence was reduced on appeal to five years of probation. Also that year, federal jurors found Beasley guilty of extortion in a scheme involving payoffs from performers at the Mobile Civic Center, then called the Mobile Municipal Auditorium. His 10-year term for that crime eventually was reduced to the 310 days he had served, with the remainder suspended. At 58, when many men might anticipate retirement, Beasley was sent to prison in 1990 for life. Jurors in U.S. District Court convicted him of conspiring with several other people to distribute nearly 20 pounds of crack cocaine in and around the Trinity Gardens community that straddles the Mobile-Prichard line. In legal briefs and public comments, Beasley has maintained his innocence, as have his backers. The case against him was built largely on the word of felons, Beasley's supporters have noted, and several of those witnesses have since recanted their testimony, according to letters the witnesses have written to various court officials. Those in Beasley's camp also point to FBI files showing that the agency -- using helicopters, telephone records and covert recordings - -- investigated Beasley for at least a decade prior to his crack conviction. Agents reviewed allegations including jury tampering and drug dealing but found no cause to charge Beasley until the 1990 crack case, according to bureau documents. Beasley, who is serving his sentence at the federal prison in Marianna, Fla., south of Dothan, was unavailable for comment for this story. Esther Beasley, his daughter, said Mobile's white leadership had always eyed him warily. "I think more than anything else, they feared him because they couldn't control him," she said. "Anytime you can't predict something, you can't understand it, you tend to fear it and label it, and I think that's what happened with him. " Esther Beasley said her father was particularly distressed to be linked by prosecutors to crack cocaine, which had harmed two of their family members. "It practically destroyed the family, destroyed our lives," she said. At the heart of the latest filings in Beasley's case is Amendment 505 to the U.S. Sentencing Guidelines. That amendment lowered the maximum punishment range for federal drug offenders, based on the amount of drugs involved in their crime. It came in 1994, amid a politically charged outcry about lengthy mandatory sentences for federal drug criminals, which often punished kingpins and small-time couriers in comparable fashion. The U.S. Sentencing Commission made Amendment 505 retroactive, meaning defendants who had been sentenced under the more stringent earlier guidelines could apply to have their sentences reduced. Within two years of his 1990 crack conviction, Beasley filed four motions for a new trial before U.S. District Judge Alex Howard and an appeal to the 11th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals. Some of those motions were based on Amendment 505. All of them were rejected. "The defendant has failed to explain how this Court can consider a motion to modify based on Amendment 505 after Judge Howard has denied relief on this basis and the 11th Circuit has affirmed that denial," Steele wrote in an order last month. In 2001, Beasley convinced a U.S. probation officer that his sentence had been incorrectly calculated. Justice system officials, Beasley discovered, had used the 1990 version of the sentencing guidelines when they should have used the 1988 version, which was still in effect at the time of Beasley's alleged crime. The later rules were more stringent in that they no longer allowed parole from federal prison terms. "After looking more closely at his allegations, I find that he is correct in the assertion that his sentence was based on guidelines which were not yet in effect," reads a portion of a letter that supervising probation officer Gerald L. Duncan Jr. wrote to Beasley's case manager at the Marianna prison. However, "As Mr. Beasley correctly understands, the case is, at this point, beyond the jurisdiction of the Probation Office," Duncan concluded in his September 2001 letter. A few months earlier, in response to one of Beasley's many court motions, federal prosecutors also acknowledged that his argument seemed legitimate. They said, though, that their hands were tied because several judges had already denied Beasley's appeals of similar issues. "The question raised does indeed appear to have legal merit," wrote then-Assistant U.S. Attorney Ginny Granade, who has since become the Southern District of Alabama's chief federal judge. "Because relief appears to be procedurally barred, however, the United States is constrained to oppose" a new sentencing hearing. Granade recommended that the court appoint a lawyer to help Beasley figure out a way around the impediments. Almost a year ago, Williams, the federal defender in Mobile, agreed to Beasley's family's requests that he review the case. By last July, Williams had filed a motion asking Steele to revisit Beasley's sentence. Beasley's earlier motions had been filed without the help of a lawyer, Williams pointed out, and were denied on technical grounds rather than on their merits. In an order last month, Steele stopped short of denying Beasley's request for a reduced sentence. He gave Williams until Jan. 16 to further explain his arguments; prosecutors will then have until the end of the month to respond. U.S. Attorney David York declined to discuss the case, saying it would be inappropriate for him to comment on pending litigation. Williams said he has faith that there will be a way for Steele to act on the sentencing error. He mentioned a legal premise known as equity, which allows injustices to be rectified by unorthodox means. "The law on equity says, 'The law will not suffer a wrong without righting it,'" Williams said. "My attitude is, there must be some way to fix this." - --- MAP posted-by: Richard Lake