Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SUNDAY, October 17, 1993 TAG: 9310170222
SECTION: HORIZON PAGE: D-1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: By ERNEST SANDER The Associated Press
DATELINE: LOS ANGELES LENGTH: Long
While prosecutors are discovering the limitations of videotape as evidence in the courtroom, many police departments are moving ahead with plans to use video cameras as a law enforcement tool.
Two recent sensational beating trials suggest that footage of a crime being committed isn't necessarily the damning evidence that might be expected.
Even before they had entered the courtroom to face assault charges in 1992, the four Los Angeles police officers who rained baton blows on Rodney King had been deemed guilty by public opinion.
With the infamous 90 seconds of videotaped evidence in hand, people wondered how the officers could possibly be let off.
But they were.
And in a separate case, a long list of prosecution witnesses described in horrifying specifics the assault on truck driver Reginald Denny during the Los Angeles riots. Yet only a few were able to identify the defendants.
Still, police in places like Palmdale, Calif., Fredricksburg, Va., and Newark, N.J., insist that videotaping has become a valuable part of crime control and they are using video cameras to help in their fight against graffiti, drugs and theft.
Sure, video cameras are a deterrent, they say, but they are also more than that.
When three men kicked, beat and shot officer Darrell Lunsford to death with his own gun in Garrison, Texas, his patrol car video camera recorded much of the attack. The jury that saw the tape convicted two of the men, while the third pleaded guilty.
"The old adage: `A picture is worth a thousand words,' is true here," said Maureen Siegel, chief of criminal operations in the Los Angeles City Attorney's office.
In downtown Newark, an officer sits in a kiosk in front of several TV screens that display images from six closed-circuit cameras mounted on poles and street lamps in a 2-square-mile section of downtown. The kiosk officer relays the information to field officers.
Newark police say auto burglaries and street robberies have decreased and criminals have been prosecuted using the tapes as evidence. Further, the cameras are being hailed by local citizens and the business community.
"The video cameras have gone far beyond our expectations," says Newark police director William Celester.
Other police departments are investing in video camera equipment and counting on similar results.
For $8,600, Palmdale bought a remote-controlled video camera that uses infrared technology to take pictures of graffiti artists at night. The mobile camera is hidden on rooftops or in bushes.
In Fredricksburg, police use hidden cameras to tape drug transactions.
Patrol cars in some parts of the country have video cameras fixed on their dashboards. Officers carry wireless microphones that are good for up to 1,000 feet. In addition to being prosecution evidence, the footage can be useful in fighting claims of police abuse.
Yet, other cops and video camera critics say the technology is too dangerous, too expensive, too invasive and can be taken out of context.
"It's just a gigantic problem," says Cmdr. John White of the LAPD detective services group. "We've been dealing with this for a number of years now and we haven't come to any final conclusion on what to do."
Which leaves L.A. cops like Officer John Smith out on a limb. In late July, Smith used his personal video camera, which he had mounted in his patrol car, to record a gang rape that he was responding to.
The LAPD had no rule prohibiting what he did, nor one condoning it. So in the next 48 hours, Smith was told to take the camera out, then allowed to put it back in, then told to remove it again.
Then he was ordered not to talk about the case.
LAPD's video camera debate did not begin with Smith, however.
In its 1991 report on the department, the Christopher Commission recommended putting video cameras in all patrol cars. Yet a pilot program that would outfit seven cars was vetoed in January by then-Mayor Tom Bradley, although recently endorsed by a Los Angeles City Council committee.
Police Chief Willie Williams has said he understands the cry for video cameras but is concerned about the expense. He has estimated it would take about $8.5 million to install cameras in all cars.
Next to some of the technology police are considering - satellites that can take pictures of the entire city, thermal imaging that locates people by sensing their body heat - video cameras seem mundane.
But some police say their effectiveness should not be underestimated.
That message has not been lost on private citizens, some of whom are arming themselves with video cameras and becoming crime-fighting partners with police.
Take Gary, for instance, who lives in Hollywood, overlooking a wall that is a favorite among graffiti artists.
In his apartment a video camera is set up by the window. With the lights off and the shades drawn, he films taggers at work.
He keeps detailed records of all his videotaping - date, time, and suspect number - and supplies police with copies of his tapes.
Gary, who is unemployed, does the videotaping mostly for the reward money - $500 per arrest. He's made $1,500 in the last year, he says.
But such a hobby is not without danger.
"I always live in fear and I always try to avoid seeing them and them seeing me," says Gary, who asked that his last name not be used.
Gary thinks the rock that was thrown through his window and the bullet that ricocheted off his door were warnings from the taggers.
Police have trained an entire corps of lookouts in the San Fernando Valley. The Volunteer Surveillance Team consists of about 50 members. Police set up crews of six or eight to do continuous filming from vacant apartments or other locations.
Despite a video camera craze in the making, others note that the technology is fraught with unanswered questions.
"People have a tendency to place videotape at the top of the rung as far as reliability, and I don't know if that is necessarily true," says Terry White, one of the prosecutors in the first King beating trial. "Videotape is just like any other evidence in that it is subject to different interpretations."
As the King footage demonstrated, videotape can leave the viewer without a context. What happened before and after the footage? Is the tape obscuring some other important information?
"The videotape probably is only going to be part of the story," says White, now a grand jury adviser.
Many also predict that greater reliance on videotaped evidence would cause logistical headaches for police departments. Where would all the tapes be stored and for how long? Who would have access to them?
Los Angeles City law states that all police evidence must be kept for 10 years. Maintaining the videotapes would mean constructing temperature controlled rooms free from electromagnetic fields.
Also, there are some doubts about the reliability of the camera equipment. Because the LAPD has yet to do thorough testing, for example, it is unclear how the sound quality would be affected by a rainstorm or a chase in progress.
And what about privacy?
Erwin Chemerinsky, a law professor at the University of Southern California, say as long as videotaping is done out in the open, in public spaces, there are few legal restrictions.
But, adds Jerry Wilson of the nonprofit Crime Control Institute in Washington D.C., "People do things in public spaces that they would not like to have pictures taken of."
The thought of cameras at every intersection sends chills down some people's spines.
During some pretrial hearings in the Denny case, news got out that the LAPD was covertly videotaping the scene outside the courtroom, in the hope that the footage would lead them to other participants in the beating.
Chemerinsky and others denounced the practice.
In short, many agree, police departments should take cautious steps into the field of video technology.
by CNB