Texas Drug Sting Became Racist Roundup, Critics Say

by Katherine Stapp

Like anyplace else, people say, Tulia had its share of drug users. But were there really 46 cocaine dealers -- 32 of them black -- in a town of just 5,000?

And if so, asked one woman with five close relatives in jail, "(where are all the) cars, houses, money? We don't have that."

No drugs, guns or cash were found in last July's pre-dawn raids. The only evidence was the word of one white undercover officer named Tom Coleman, who was later voted "Lawman of the Year."

Then the sentences started coming down, and real fear set in. Freddie Brookins' son, Freddie, Jr., a 22-year-old with a job and no prior record, was given 20 years for delivering 3.5 grams of cocaine, an amount known on the street as an "eightball" that sells for roughly $200.

"I believe they focused in on certain people they wanted to get rid of," the elder Mr. Brookins said. "Personally, I think it was racially motivated. Most of the people were in mixed (race) relationships, and in a small town, they just can't deal with that."

Added one resident: "Even the ones who are white (that were arrested) have black family members."

The 99-year sentence given to Joe Moore, 67, signalled to many that justice had taken a wrong turn. Moore was convicted of two counts of delivering an eightball to Coleman, who single-handedly ran the sting operation. His sentence was compounded by two prior felonies.

Kizzie Henry, 23, who had two young children and a clean record, got 25 years. And on it went.

Freddie Brookins, Sr. and others say the harsh sentences meted out in the initial trials were a pressure tactic to get other defendants to plead guilty -- a tactic that appears to have worked until critical stories in the Texas press started to appear.

Now, Kareem White, Kizzie's brother and the last of the 46 defendants, is preparing for trial on Sept. 5 amid an atmosphere of intense distrust among Tulia's African-American community.

"It's prejudice," declared White's mother, Mattie, who is now raising Kizzie's two children, ages three and six. "They don't want the blacks in this town...You're black, you don't have a chance. We know what it is."

Swisher County district attorney, Terry McEachern comment has repeatedly denied that race played a role in the sweep.

Kareem, who everyone calls "Kreamy," has been charged with one count of delivery of a controlled substance. He is facing two-20 years in prison, and says he is innocent.

"There's not even a semblance of justice in these cases," said White's court-appointed attorney, Dwight McDonald. "I'm as much against crime as the next person, but let's do it right. I think they didn't do it right here."

While these may not be particularly unusual tactics for an 18- month deep-cover operation in a small rural community, defense lawyers and others say that aspects of Coleman's past make his testimony less than credible.

Coleman himself had been charged with theft by his previous employer, the Cochran County Sheriff's Office, over misuse of his county credit card. Although the Tulia sheriff was notified of the outstanding warrant months into the sting, he allowed Coleman to continue.

The issue was apparently resolved when Coleman agreed to pay nearly $7,000 in restitution. But when asked in court later if he had any criminal record, Coleman said he did not.

Defense attorneys complain that they have not been permitted to use this information to impugn Coleman's testimony.

"He lied to the court or he lied on the stand -- either way, he lied," said Kizzie Henry's lawyer Ronald Spriggs.

Meanwhile, families are struggling to care for the children left behind, as they await the outcome of state court appeals.

"Virtually the entire black community has been impacted," said Charles Kiker, a retired white preacher who got involved after Joe Moore was given 99 years in prison. Kiker holds weekly prayer meetings with the relatives of those arrested, and hopes to attract the interest of legal aid groups.

"Our strategy has been to try to call attention to it, and it has been a long, slow process," Kiker said. "The black community is pretty discouraged. We're hoping that sooner or later, we can get a civil rights lawsuit."

A spokesman for the American Civil Liberties Union in Texas confirmed that some of the branch's attorneys planned to go to Tulia this week to investigate the possibility of a class action lawsuit for civil rights violations.

Gary Gardner, another of Tulia's handful of white residents troubled by the busts, compared the atmosphere to the communist witchhunts of the 1950s.

"Law enforcement in Tulia has talked up a major crime wave, but there's no drug problem of the scale they've shown, and that's based on facts," said Gardner, who has attended several of the trials. "The whole system is screwed up in the town...If you put these 46 people in a line-up and gave this undercover cop nametags and said pin 'em on, he couldn't do it."

"There's 46 human stories down here," Gardner added. "It's one of those things where you see what's happened, know what's happened, but it's damned hard to prove."