OFFICER'S CLAIM OF SELF-DEFENSE DOESN'T FIT

Put yourself in Prince Jones's shoes: You've finished a day's work as a
fitness trainer at the Bally's health club in Hyattsville, and you're
heading to the home of your fiancee and 11-month-old child in the Seven
Corners area of Fairfax County.

You've done nothing wrong.

Being mistaken for a dope dealer by a Prince George's County cop is the
last thing on your mind. Just because you're a 25-year-old black man
driving a black Jeep Cherokee with a Pennsylvania tag ought not make you
the object of surveillance, harassment and, eventually, a killing by police
who are looking for some other black man in some other black Cherokee--with
Maryland tags, no less.

Little do you know that you're about to encounter a police department with
a reputation for racial insensitivity and brutality, but with more than
enough apologists in high places to tolerate misconduct and incompetence.

Including your wrongful death.

After botching the arrest of the man they were actually looking for--the
suspect apparently used his car to ram a police cruiser and make his
escape--"a decision was made by the Prince George's police that it was too
dangerous to attempt another street arrest," said Virginia Commonwealth's
Attorney Robert F. Horan Jr. "They wanted to find an address where an
arrest could be made."

Since when did it become "too dangerous" for police to make street arrests?

Nevertheless, a nervous cop has mistaken you for that suspect and is
following you. At some point during the early morning of Sept. 1, 1999, you
notice that someone is tailing you. Your heart is racing. Who is it?
Carjackers? Skinheads? The Klan?

In self-defense mode, you cut into a driveway and turn out the lights. You
see this strange car. You see this man you don't know. And as fear turns to
rage, you leave your car to find out just what in the world is going on.

The man waves a gun at you. He says he's a police officer. But he's not in
uniform. He's not in a police car. And he doesn't even have a badge. Worst
of all, he's a young black man like you. And the rage turns to hate.

You can't believe it. All you want to do is to keep him from getting to
you, to your loved ones. So you ram his car, hoping to at least trap him.
But the man, Cpl. Carlton B. Jones, 32, fires 16 times, hitting you six
times in the back.

Virginia law says that any right to a claim of self-defense depends
primarily on whether you reasonably fear death or serious bodily harm. The
law also says you can forfeit that claim if you are in any way responsible
for causing the confrontation.

Prince Jones clearly met the criteria for acting in self-defense.

Carlton Jones did not.

Incredibly, in announcing his decision not to prosecute Carlton Jones,
Horan managed on Monday to twist the law to the breaking point, concluding
that the police officer shot in self-defense while implying that Prince
Jones was to blame.

"It remains a mystery why Prince Jones rammed the police vehicle at least
twice in a neighborhood he knew quite well," Horan said.

By Horan's reasoning, any action you take to protect yourself when being
stalked and harassed entitles the other person to kill you in
self-defense--as long as the killer turns out to be a cop, of course, and
you are just another dead black man.

"On the other hand," said Ted J. Williams, an attorney for Prince Jones's
family, "had Carlton Jones followed a young white man into Fairfax County
from Maryland through the District of Columbia and shot that young white
fellow in the back six times, he could have claimed self-defense from now
until the end of time, but it would have been from a jail cell as he
awaited a jury of the fine citizens of Fairfax County to decide his fate."

Horan, a commonwealth's attorney for 34 years, said he declined to
prosecute because no jury in Virginia would have convicted Carlton Jones.
If Horan is right, that says as much about the people of Virginia as it
does about Horan.

"It is not a question of what the reasonable man would have believed, but
whether the actual belief of the defendant was reasonable in light of the
circumstances as he perceived them," Horan said. "In other words, a jury is
told to put themselves in the shoes of the defendant."

But if you're in Prince Jones's shoes, you've still done nothing wrong. And
the cop who killed you ought to answer for your murder.