Help is on the way for public defender's office By Matthew PenixSt. Tammany News Overworked, underpaid and short-staffed, St. Tammany Parish public defenders constantly face uphill battles, with many working 12 hours a days and weekends, swamped in more cases than legally healthy and all the while doing it with little to no pay raises. It's definitely a labor of love, a boyish chance to change the world, said John Simmons, chief indigent defender at the 22nd Judicial District Court in Covington. But those heartstrings may be plucked harder next year with the arrival of two new state family court judges at 22nd Judicial Court and with it between a 20 and 50 percent surge in felony cases. Already, 22nd Judicial District public defenders tackle, on average, up to 250 felony cases a year, well above the maximum 150 cases per year recommended by the Louisiana District Attorney's Association, Simmons said. In Covington's 10 courtrooms, one public defender is assigned to each division. Tack on no pay raises in the last three years, a recent 50 percent dip in traffic tickets that fund 40 percent of the office's daily operations and a staff that's half as large as it needs to be, it's as if going to work is stepping into the ring with a 300-pound monster, Simmons said. 'We work to the crisis,' he said. 'If a crisis comes up, we have to respond. It's like a boxer in the ring.' Help, however, is on the way. Act 307, signed into law last year and sponsored by dozens of lawmakers, including local state Rep. Tim Burns, R-Mandeville and Sen. A.G. Crowe, R-Slidell, provides, if needed, a possibility of larger sums of state money to fund the states 41 public defender's offices. As of now, about $35 from each traffic ticket in Washington and St. Tammany parishes funds 40 percent of the 22nd Judicial District public defender's office. Coupled with some state money, the department boast a $2.5 million average yearly budget, Simmons said. But with only 22 attorneys and 10 to 12 more needed, a roughly $1 million windfall is needed to plug the gaps, Simmons said. ACT 307, he said, may do just that. The bill requires an accurate account of caseloads, man hours etc. for each public defender's office statewide. Based on those results, state officials may adjust indigent defenders' pay scales, which in St. Tammany offer about $30,000 a year, compared to a possible six-figure income as a criminal defense attorney. The reports, though, are no easy task. While each department keeps its own records, each also scores its workload different, representing what Simmons calls a 'nation of lexicons' trying to decide on one language. For example: Should a case be counted as active, if not resolved, but no action has been taken in years? Some offices say yes, others no. But if so, the database programming is time consuming, not a priority for a lawyer trying to prepare a death sentence defense. 'It's like taking a million nations trying to find the common lexicon when they all speak a different language,' he said. 'Everything is predicated on something else. It takes time and frustration,' likely about two to three years to complete. Still, 'it's the beginning of the turnaround to make the public defender's office more efficient and effective,' he said. Meanwhile, Simmons' office is projecting its reserves will be tapped. The office managed to stash away $400,000 in reserves but is facing a $335,828 deficit in its $2.5 million budget, Simmons said. 'We don't get bailed out (like American automakers),' he said. 'All we have are those floaties under our arms.' At the end of the day it's those heartstrings, the boyish charm to save that world, that keep many public defenders afloat. Simmons, who for 44 years has worked as a lawyer, the majority as a public defender, quit his job with the Department of Energy to become a public defender. Those who qualify for public law assistance typically earn at or below the poverty level, or for a single person about $20,800 a year. Simmons jokes he is now that person, taking 20 years as a public servant to make what he made in one year in the private sector. But he loves it, he said. referring to his job. 'It's tough love, but it's about the belief that anyone should get proper representation under the Constitution,' he said. |