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Michael Dunne: I'm Michael Dunne. There are plenty of jokes out there disparaging lawyers and the legal profession as a whole. But of course, it's easy to make fun of attorneys until you need one, and right now, Oregon needs one. Or, more precisely, Oregon needs hundreds. Today on the show, you'll hear from a reporter from The Guardian newspaper about how a crushing lack of attorneys, especially public defenders, is doing great harm to the state and its citizens. It's been a crisis that's been building for quite some time, and right now, there are thousands of people in the state who are charged with crimes they didn't commit, overcharged for minor offenses, or in legal limbo simply because they can't see a lawyer. Then in the second part of the show, we'll check in with KLCC's Love Cross on her Oregon Ready series. Sam Levin, a senior reporter with The Guardian. Sam, great to talk to you again. Thanks so much for coming on.
Sam Levin: Thank you so much for having me.
Dunne: I read your recent story titled "Falsely Charged With a Crime, No Way to Fight It: Inside Oregon's Court Crisis." Let's start with this. Tell us the story of Corshelle Jenkins. What happened to her?
Levin: Corshelle Jenkins is a mom of six. She works as a medication technician at a senior living facility, and one day last year, she got a letter in the mail saying that she had failed to appear in court and there was a warrant for her arrest. She was extremely shocked, because she had never been arrested for theft. She had no idea what this was. It was clear to her that this was mistaken identity, but she went into court and tried to resolve the matter, and learned that she could not fight her case or make arguments of wrongful prosecution without an attorney. She could not get an attorney, because Oregon has a massive shortage of public defenders, so all she could do was wait for a lawyer, which started a nearly yearlong saga for her.
Dunne: That's amazing. Could you give us some numbers, not just with Corshelle, but with other folks, in terms of how many cases like hers are happening to other people? What are we talking about here? How many attorneys does Oregon need to have a more balanced system?
Levin: Those are great questions. When Corshelle first entered the court system, there were roughly 4,000 defendants across Oregon who were waiting for a lawyer at that time. Those were people who had been arraigned and charged with crimes, said they needed a court-appointed lawyer, couldn't afford their own attorney, and the state agreed they qualified, but could not provide one. Today, that number is smaller, but it's still around 1,200 people waiting for lawyers, with roughly 600 in Multnomah County in Portland, where she's based. The question of how many lawyers Oregon needs to resolve this crisis is actually a very complicated one that I couldn't get a straightforward answer to despite spending months on this story. That's partly due to the very convoluted way that Oregon provides public defense through a patchwork of contractors, nonprofits, and individuals, so Oregon does not have a clear number of how many people are currently working in public defense or how many they would need to solve the crisis.
Dunne: And I'm wondering, could Ms. Jenkins have tried to defend herself? Or is there a statute that says she couldn't?
Levin: People are allowed to represent themselves if they choose to do so. But generally, that's not advised for someone without a legal background. For her, it was clear she wanted to wait for a lawyer. I don't think she was presented with an option of representing herself. It was very straightforward: We don't have a lawyer for you today, Ms. Jenkins. Please come back to your next court hearing and we'll see if we have one for you. I listened to one of the court hearings. It was very brief. It was essentially: Come back to court, and if you don't, there will be a warrant for your arrest. She did come back to court, and when she came back, they said, Sorry, we still don't have a lawyer for you.
Dunne: Wow. Can you talk about what can be amazingly challenging impacts on people because of this problem here in Oregon?
Levin: That was my goal for the story: to really understand the human toll of this crisis, which has been brewing for years. We see really extreme impacts on people who are stuck waiting for lawyers. On a basic level, when you are charged with a crime, there are many conditions that are put in place. Some people remain in jail. Others who are released have pretrial conditions, which might mean they have to wear an ankle monitor, or they're barred from going to certain places, or they might be restricted from seeing their family, with very serious child custody implications. Without a lawyer, you have no way to challenge those consequences. You have no way to argue that you deserve to be able to travel to work and maintain a relationship with your kids. At the same time, having a charge hanging over you has very serious consequences in this country. It affects people's ability to get jobs and housing, really fundamental things, because this is a criminal record hanging over you. Corshelle's case was obviously particularly extraordinary, because she was accused of a crime she did not commit. It was completely false, and she had this charge hanging over her, which meant she couldn't apply for a job she wanted because the record would automatically prohibit her from doing that work. It was also affecting her life through the constant fear of missing a court date and having a warrant out for her arrest, which means that if an officer stops you for a traffic violation, they would then take you to jail.
Dunne: So maybe this is the million-dollar question. How did we get here in Oregon?
Levin: It's a long journey to how we got here in Oregon, stemming in part from the fact that it's very hard to recruit people for public defense jobs. They are lower-paying lawyer positions with very demanding, high caseloads, and that's always been a challenge. Then during COVID, when the courts shut down, it led to a severe backlog of cases. So as Oregon was getting out of the pandemic, there was this huge backlog of cases just waiting for attorneys, and the problem kept getting worse. At the same time, Oregon was struggling with a worsening homelessness and drug addiction crisis, which was bleeding its way into the court system. Public defenders were getting cases with really complex issues: people with mental health challenges, struggling with homelessness and addiction. That further compounded the problem. We also saw the rise in body camera footage, which created significant time burdens on public defenders, who are required to review hours and hours of footage to properly represent their clients. So every case was taking longer, and this ballooned into a bigger and bigger problem over the last four or so years.
Dunne: So, kind of a perfect storm of not enough attorneys, people dropping out of being public defenders, and more crimes being levied against people.
Levin: Yeah, absolutely. Public defenders were getting really burnt out. I talked to many of them about the exodus from the profession, people moving to different jobs, positions that were more stable or better paying. That had a cascading effect, because the more you lost attorneys, the more you were unable to represent people being charged with crimes, and the longer that list got, the harder it was to bring it down. The problem just got worse and worse.
Dunne: You also talked about what the state Supreme Court is considering. What action might they take?
Levin: It's important to remember that people have a constitutional right to a lawyer. That's in the state constitution and in the United States Constitution. This has been litigated for a long time, and there was a case centering on a man named Alan Roberts who had essentially gone unrepresented for four years. He had been charged with a crime and he kept showing up to court, and they kept saying he didn't have a lawyer, so this dragged on for a really long time. Eventually, when he did get lawyers, they argued that the case should be dismissed because it's not fair or just to have him charged with a crime after four years. That ultimately led to a pretty extraordinary ruling. The state Supreme Court said the state had to dismiss cases of people who had been waiting more than 90 days for counsel on felonies and more than 60 days for misdemeanors. That meant about 1,400 cases had to be dropped because those people had been waiting too long for an attorney and their rights had been violated. That ruling is now moving forward. If people have their cases going past 60 or 90 days, depending on whether it's a misdemeanor or felony, those cases have to be dismissed.
Dunne: Is this exclusively happening in Oregon? Are there other states facing this same problem?
Levin: This is not an Oregon-exclusive problem. We've seen similar issues in Massachusetts, Maine and Wisconsin. But few of those crises have been at the scale and duration of Oregon's, which has gone on for so long and has impacted thousands of people. I think that's partly due to Oregon's convoluted public defense bureaucracy and the really intense homelessness and addiction crises that have heavily impacted the court system here.
Dunne: And I would imagine this disproportionately impacts people of color and people of lower income. Is that true?
Levin: Yes. People who are impacted by the criminal legal system are disproportionately low income and people of color. And by nature, people who need public defenders are people who can't afford attorneys on their own. I sat in court many times during the reporting process, and you see that the people navigating this without attorneys are often, especially in misdemeanor court where it's lower-level crimes, unhoused people or people struggling with addiction. Minor crimes like trespassing: someone was in a 7-Eleven, was told to leave, and didn't leave. Or someone who got cited for unlawful camping and then had to keep going back to court to fight the case but couldn't get an attorney. These are really marginalized people suffering in a system where they don't have the ability to fight their cases, and they often don't understand what's happening. It's very confusing to show up to court without a lawyer who can explain what the process is, what an arraignment is, what you're being charged with, what your rights are. It's really challenging for anyone to navigate that process without help.
Dunne: What I really enjoyed about your piece was how you talked to people and exposed what they were going through. Tell us about Veronica Gates and Nacyus Barry. What did they have to go through?
Levin: Veronica Gates was a young woman, 20 years old, who had a very minor incident where her car broke down in the middle of the road, and she got into an argument with an officer. They ended up taking her to jail for disorderly conduct. It was her first offense. There were no victims, no allegations of harm or anything serious. She was just taken to jail after some kind of argument, and she was very eager to resolve the case, but she kept having to go back to court because she couldn't get a lawyer. She was just stuck waiting and waiting. The process took a real toll on her mentally. It impacted how she was applying for housing, and she stopped driving out of fear of having more problems with law enforcement. It really took a big toll on her life. By the time she got a lawyer, it had been months, and there was limited ability to build her case because surveillance footage had already run out. The case still dragged on, and eventually, just before it was heading to trial, because she didn't want to plead, prosecutors dismissed the case and it was over. But it had really taken a chunk of her life and derailed things for her. Nacyus Barry had a similar story. He was also young and was having a mental health episode at a Starbucks and was jailed for trespassing when he wouldn't leave. Also a minor case. He got mental health treatment and turned his life around, but this case went on for basically a year before he got an attorney. During that time, he couldn't apply for the fast-food jobs he wanted. It was really impacting his ability to put his life in the right direction.
Dunne: So are there any signs of improvement on this issue?
Levin: There are signs of progress. We went from roughly 4,000 people waiting for an attorney to roughly 1,200 today. That is significant progress, and it comes through some efforts at the state level to prioritize counties that have been having these issues with major attorney shortages, by creating special dockets to speed up cases and by sending some state lawyers to these counties to handle trials and move them along faster. But the big problem is Multnomah County, which is the epicenter of the crisis. It has the most cases, and solutions there have just been elusive. The problem keeps happening. More and more people keep getting charged with crimes, and there just aren't enough attorneys to represent them. But we are not there yet.
Dunne: Sam, as we close this out, my final question is: In talking to these people who have been so upended, what did they tell you in terms of the emotions they felt? Did they feel it was helpless, hopeless? Did they feel like it was important to tell the story, and that if it could happen to them, it could happen to literally anyone?
Levin: People absolutely lose faith in the system. For many of the folks I interacted with, it's their first time going through a criminal process, being charged with a crime, and there's a basic expectation that you have fundamental rights and will be able to argue your case. A lot of folks just found it really shocking and galling to show up to court and be told, sorry, nothing we can do, just come back again, with no guarantee that you'll get a lawyer when you do. People were really appalled by the system, hurt by it, and felt abused by it. The emotional and mental toll is really significant, because people feel trapped. They can't move on with their lives. They don't know when this case is going to end, or if it ever will. There's no guarantee. You just feel like you're stuck in a cycle you can't get out of, and it's really scary because there are serious consequences.
Dunne: Well, it's an incredibly well-researched piece. Sam Levin, a senior reporter with The Guardian, really appreciate you coming on and talking about this tragic situation.
Levin: Thank you so much for having me. Really appreciate it.
Dunne: We've been following KLCC's Oregon Ready series, one month at a time, toward being two weeks ready for disasters. Today, we're zeroing in on something people don't always think about until it's too late: money and paperwork after a disaster. Joining me now is KLCC's Love Cross, who's been reporting on, and importantly, participating in this whole preparedness challenge. Hi, Love.
Love Cross: Hi, Michael, thanks for having me.
Dunne: We didn't get a chance to talk last month, so I'm really glad we can connect. You've been very honest in this series that this isn't just reporting. You're kind of dragging yourself through preparedness alongside the rest of us.
Cross: Yeah, very much so. This is not me standing on a mountain of emergency supplies and looking down at everyone else. I am very much figuring this out in real time, that's for sure.
Dunne: OK, so recently you've been talking about what you're calling financial first aid, which honestly doesn't sound all that exciting.
Cross: I know, you're so right. It's not the fun part of disaster prep. It's not like making tidy go-bags or standing back and admiring stored gallons of water. Yes, I've done that. But it turns out it might be one of the most important things you can do ahead of time: being financially prepared.
Dunne: OK, well, give us the big picture. What is financial first aid, and what does it actually mean?
Cross: At its core, it's about making sure that if something really bad happens, a fire, flood, or earthquake, you're not trying to reconstruct your entire financial life while you're already in shock. Regulators boil it down to three things: a home inventory, copies of key documents, and understanding your insurance coverage.
Dunne: OK, let's take that first one, home inventory, because that seems like the part most people are going to avoid.
Cross: Actually, that's very true. It sounds tedious, but it was kind of fun. I knew I should have done this years ago, but I was dragging my feet. Everyone I talked to, from regulators to insurers, said the same thing: This is where recovery starts. As part of the most recent segment, I spoke with Kenton Brine from the Northwest Insurance Council. Three simple words: proof of loss.
[Audio of Brine]
Dunne: Proof of loss sounds so clinical, but it's huge.
Cross: Yeah, and once he said it that way, it really stuck with me. Proof of loss is basically you being able to say, this is what I had, this is what happened to it, and this is what I need to replace.
Dunne: And that proof really starts before the disaster ever happens, which means you finally did the thing.
Cross: I did the thing. I walked through my house with my phone and just started recording closets, walls, furniture. I narrated it like a slightly unhinged tour guide around my house.
Dunne: And you included a little of that audio in your story.
Cross: Yeah, and that was me being very real about it.
[Audio of inventory]
Cross: And look, my home inventory is imperfect, but imperfect is infinitely better than nothing at all.
Dunne: Another point that really stood out to me was this idea that memory isn't reliable after a disaster, which makes sense, but we don't like thinking about it.
Cross: We kind of like to assume we'll just remember, but trauma really does mess with memory in a big way. Let's listen to Kenton Brine on that. "If you think about your state of mind after a disaster, it's really hard to imagine how you're going to respond personally. A lot of people are just in a state of shock. They've lost everything, or a significant portion of everything. If it's a fire and your home has been reduced to ash on the ground, you're literally sorting through ashes. It's going to be very hard to remember the things that were in every room of that house, so that you can get a fair settlement and get those things replaced as best you can."
Dunne: That image of people sorting through ashes really lands.
Cross: It does, and it really changed how I thought about the inventory. It's not about being organized. It's about protecting your future self when you might not be at your best.
Dunne: And you found that insurance surprises a lot of people.
Cross: Yeah, flood insurance in particular. A lot of people assume water damage is water damage, but if flooding comes from outside your house, it's not covered by standard homeowners' insurance. Many people are also underinsured for rebuild costs today. So part of being ready is reading the fine print, as painful as that sounds. It also means safeguarding documents, like IDs, insurance policies, titles, and birth certificates, so you can prove who you are when systems are down.
Dunne: If people listening feel overwhelmed, what's the first small step?
Cross: Just pick one thing. Maybe today it's recording one room in your house. Maybe it's taking photos of your important documents. You really don't have to do everything at once.
Dunne: Which is kind of the whole theme of Oregon Ready.
Cross: Exactly. One manageable task at a time, together, toward being two weeks ready. That's how I am moving through this year. And again, I want to invite disaster preparedness questions. Those can be emailed to questions@klcc.org. I also want to invite your Oregon on the Record listeners to tune in tomorrow to Morning Edition and All Things Considered, when I will be revisiting some of the questions we have received and getting answers to them. So tune in tomorrow.
Dunne: She's KLCC's Love Cross. Thank you for making the unglamorous parts of preparedness feel doable.
Cross: Thanks so much for having me once again, Michael.
Dunne: That's the show for today. All episodes of Oregon on the Record are available as a podcast at KLCC.org. Tomorrow, we'll bring you a special show with our guest, the former Labor Secretary in the Clinton administration and prolific author and lecturer Robert Reich. I'm Michael Dunne, host of Oregon on the Record. Thanks for listening.
