Part 2 of 2

how the political game is played. Rep. Peter Courtney calls him "a CEO
type" and a "force to be reckoned with."

Others call him awkward and criticize his stiff demeanor and his sometimes
unyielding disposition. One lawyer describes him as an "ice man with a
volcano underneath."

"It's a mystery to me where this guy gets his power," says Portland defense
lawyer Paul Levy, who has testified on criminal-justice issues in Salem.
"I'm not sure it is him. I think it's what he represents: the fear of
crime."

That's not a concept many politicians want to be seen as knocking. "I know
how politicians and candidates fear [Doell] and worry about him," Courtney
says.

In addition to lobbying, Doell dabbles in electoral politics. For example,
Eugene legislator Karsten Rasmussen lost a reelection bid in 1994 after he
was blitzed with eight straight days of radio ads branding him as soft on
crime. Doell read the script, which mentioned his daughter's death.

"That is the kind of thing that sends ripples through [the Capitol]," said
one Legislature-watcher.

Doell has also had influence in judicial appointments. Henry H. Lazenby
Jr., the governor's legal counsel, says that "we weigh [CVU's viewpoint]
along with other opinions" when choosing judges. Dick Springer, who was
seeking appointment as a referee in late 1997, thinks Doell's influence may
be more significant.

"He appeared twice before the Supreme Court to testify and present written
testimony that really blistered me as an enemy of the people because I had
chosen to disagree with him," Springer says. The court chose not to approve
Springer as a pro tem judge. (Some say that he wouldn't have gotten the job
with or without Doell, and in fact a bar committee did not recommend him.)

This year, Doell and former Rep. Bob Tiernan decided to take their concerns
over individual judges to a broader level by sponsoring a ballot initiative
that would have drastically changed the way they were elected. Lawyers were
so worried about this measure that they formed a PAC and quickly raised
almost $60,000 to try to block it. At the last minute, Doell and Tiernan
withdrew the measure but threatened judges with bringing it back in 2000.
The District Attorneys Association, which has benefited from crime victims'
initiatives, was the only major group of lawyers not to oppose the measure.

Steve Doell and his supporters acknowledge that they have revolutionized
the way justice is doled out in Oregon. And they argue their efforts have
been effective in reducing crime.

In fact, the violent crime rate has declined since 1994. "There were 12,000
Oregonians who weren't raped, murdered assaulted or robbed because Measure
11 passed," Mannix says.

The best criminal justice experts in the country can't agree on exactly
what causes the rise and fall of crime, although they all say that
incarceration rates are but one piece of a puzzle that includes
demographics, economics and various other factors.

"It's complicated," says defense lawyer Levy, "and the desire of folks like
Mannix and Doell is to make it seem simple."

Even Mannix concedes that Measure 11 was drafted without the benefit of any
real analysis of the correlation between sentences and crime rates. "It's
my own personal scale of justice," he says. "Even if it didn't make a dent
in the crime rate, it was the right thing to do."

While opinions differ on the effect of ballot measures on the crime rate,
there is no debate about the extent to which Doell's efforts have tied the
hands of judges.

Judge Ellis tells a story of his first Measure 11 case, a shoplifter who
struggled when she was caught. According to Ellis, she said, "Let me go.
I've got a gun"--even though she did not have a weapon. Because she
physically resisted and claimed she was armed, the charge was second-degree
robbery, a Measure 11 crime that carries a mandatory 70-month sentence.
Eventually, she accepted a plea bargain--pleading guilty to a lesser
offense--and went to prison for 14 months.

"She was a single parent with two preschool children and no prior record,"
Ellis said. "I suppose you could say it's a good lesson to a shoplifter,
but it's so wildly disproportionate to the level of the crime. I'm not sure
what social end was achieved by that."

As justice in Oregon has been transformed by Doell, so has the amount we
pay for it.

"Voters made a decision for us in '94 that we would spend money on
construction and operation of new prisons," says Bob Applegate, Kitzhaber's
spokesman. "That vote was a budget decision." As tax revenues grew to
unprecedented levels from a booming economy, they were quickly eaten up
because elected officials were forced to allocate more money for prisons.

The shift has been dramatic. While overall the state budget has risen 39
percent since 1993, the corrections portion has increased by 90 percent,
mainly to pay for the building of new prison cells. Since 1994, the
Department of Corrections has added 2,350 beds. It has started construction
on one new prison and sited five more. During that same time, the
higher-education budget has risen by 0.5 percent, and human resources has
increased by 16 percent.

This biennium, Oregon will reach a dubious milestone. For the first time
ever, the state will spend more on corrections ($836 million) than it will
on higher education ($704 million).

Measure 61, the tough-on-crime initiative on this November's ballot, could
cost an additional $850 million to $1.4 billion over the next 10 years and
will require the construction of between 2,800 and 4,300 prison beds.

The problem, of course, is what isn't getting funded. "Only about 50
percent of the people who seek drug and alcohol treatment and counseling
can find it in this state," Applegate says. "If you take the money we've
put into expanding our prison system in the last four years and put a tenth
of it in those kinds of services, might we be a safer place? That's how we
feel about it, but it's too late. Measure 11 is law."

If you believe, as Doell does, that protecting citizens is the most
important mission of government, then this isn't a problem. Clearly, Doell
has no regrets.

"There's certainly more noble things we could spend our money on," he says,
"but once we can get a real handle on the crime problem, which I think
we're starting to see, then we can go more into the prevention mode.
Hopefully, we can shift money the other way some day."

Sidebars:

Tougher on Crime - Property criminals get kicked with mandatory sentencing.

Irreconcilable Differences - Domestic violence in the Doell household led
to a 1989 divorce.

[note: The next few paragraphs appeared along the left column margin of the
lead story above.]

Steve Doell helped Bob Tiernan in his bid for the state Supreme Court. The
campaign was financed by Mark Hemstreet, Loren Parks and developer Robert
Randall. This month, Tiernan dropped out of the race.

Andrew Whitaker was acquitted of murder because of one hold-out juror,
whose son accidentally killed someone in his car two decades earlier. The
jury finally compromised on second-degree manslaughter.

So far, $56 million has been budgeted for Measure 17, the 1994 inmate work
initiative.

The district attorney contributed to the problems with the Whitaker
prosecution. For example, he didn't charge Whitaker with first-degree
manslaughter, which could have earned him a tougher sentence.

Whitaker was released from prison in March 1995. He was initially to live
with relatives in Michigan but was drummed out of town with bad publicity.

Gov. Kitzhaber has written a statement in opposition to Measure 61.

Gov. Kitzhaber's spokesman Bob Applegate says, "you could probably fully
fund Head Start with the money spent building one medium-security prison."

The Oregon Youth Authority has built five juvenile jails and one juvenile
boot camp since 1994. Today, the agency holds 1,018 young people; in 1994,
that number was just 633.

Oregon has had fluctuations in the crime rate without any changes in
sentencing laws, according to Phil Lemman, who heads the state Criminal
Justice Commission.

In 1996, the Rand Corporation found that giving students incentives to
graduate from high school was far more cost-effective in preventing crime
than locking them up was.

LEAD STORY SIDEBAR

Tougher on Crime

Measure 61 addresses a very real problem with state sentencing laws:
Property criminals, even repeat offenders, escape any serious consequence
for their crimes.

The measure calls for 12-month sentences for 35 different crimes, many of
which are property offenses. It also tacks on an additional one-year
sentence if the offender has one prior conviction, two years for two
convictions and three years for three. The "kicker" sentences are
mandatory, while the initial 12-month sentence is discretionary; in other
words, the judge could give a first-time offender probation.

According to Multnomah County District Attorney Mike Schrunk, "There is a
helluva problem with property crimes. We need to do something."

But Schrunk is not supporting 61. One problem, he says, is the cost,
estimated by state fiscal officers at $1.4 billion over 10 years for
additional prison beds. Steve Doell, a co-sponsor of the measure, says that
because many cases end in plea bargains, the price tag will be more like
$850 million.

Schrunk also believes these offenders can be better served with programs
like drug treatment. "If there's one group we can manage in the community,
it's property offenders," he says.

Critics of the measure also argue that the state Legislature has addressed
some of the problems with property crimes in a 1997 law that increases
sentences for some offenses. --MO

LEAD STORY SIDEBAR

Irreconcilable Differences

Steve Doell and his ex-wife, Colleen, divorced in the summer of 1989
because of "irreconcilable differences." According to court documents, the
split was difficult.

In November 1989, Colleen Doell took out a restraining order against her
ex-husband. In it, she claimed that Doell pulled their son, Scott, by his
hair and hit him on the head and back: "At about 3:30 am [one day in
October], Steve threatened Scott by telling him to keep the physical abuse
a secret or he would have to walk home, as well as other unspecific
retaliation." Colleen Doell further claimed that her ex-husband "grabbed my
neck, threw me against the wall of the house and choked me with sufficient
force to cut off my ability to breathe or speak. Steve then struck my son
several times in the head and grabbed my 9-year-old daughter [Lisa] and
tried to force her into his car as she screamed for help."

Doell does not deny the incidents. "What I did was wrong," he said.
"There's no excuse for that type of behavior."

Doell and his ex-wife also fought over child support.

According to court filings, Doell suddenly stopped making child support and
alimony payments about 12 months after the divorce. The lapse lasted 21
months, and the district attorney's and the attorney general's offices were
called in to enforce the court-ordered support payments. At one point Steve
Doell was nearly $21,000 in arrears. He has since paid what he owed.

"Financial difficulties were part of it," he says, noting that he "did pay
for other items that would never be listed there, like private school and
that type of thing." --MO

LEAD STORY SIDEBAR

Tougher on Crime

Measure 61 addresses a very real problem with state sentencing laws:
Property criminals, even repeat offenders, escape any serious consequence
for their crimes.

The measure calls for 12-month sentences for 35 different crimes, many of
which are property offenses. It also tacks on an additional one-year
sentence if the offender has one prior conviction, two years for two
convictions and three years for three. The "kicker" sentences are
mandatory, while the initial 12-month sentence is discretionary; in other
words, the judge could give a first-time offender probation.

According to Multnomah County District Attorney Mike Schrunk, "There is a
helluva problem with property crimes. We need to do something."

But Schrunk is not supporting 61. One problem, he says, is the cost,
estimated by state fiscal officers at $1.4 billion over 10 years for
additional prison beds. Steve Doell, a co-sponsor of the measure, says that
because many cases end in plea bargains, the price tag will be more like
$850 million.

Schrunk also believes these offenders can be better served with programs
like drug treatment. "If there's one group we can manage in the community,
it's property offenders," he says.

Critics of the measure also argue that the state Legislature has addressed
some of the problems with property crimes in a 1997 law that increases
sentences for some offenses.

Checked-by: Joel W. Johnson