• Report: Autopsy showed broken skin on Trayvon Martin’s knuckles. Medical records also show that George Zimmerman had “a pair of black eyes, a nose fracture and two cuts to the back of his head.”
• Longtime drug warrior Calvina Fay takes on Law Enforcement Against Prohibition.
• Headline of the day.
• Grandmother, first-time offender sent to prison for life. She tried to import about a ton of cocaine. But because she wasn’t connected, she couldn’t play the informant game.
• How FBI Entrapment Is Inventing ‘Terrorists’ – and Letting Bad Guys Off the Hook
• Obama makes it illegal for U.S. citizens to criticize the government of Yemen.

In the name of preventing the diversion of prescription painkillers, the DEA is causing unneeded suffering in America’s nursing homes.

Meanwhile, here’s an email I received today from a pain patient in Tennessee.

Hi Mr. Balko. First, thank you so very, very,  much for being the “voice” for all of us chronic pain disease people. I have a rare disease called RSD/CRPS. It is rated the highest of all pain diseases on the Mcgill Pain Scale. It is rated higher in pain than child birth or the loss of a digit. I am on a fentanyl patch and other meds as well. I have recently been informed that the pharmacies near me will no longer fill opiate pain meds! My husband has to drive all over the state to find a place that will fill my medicine. I would be willing to talk to you if it will help me and others with the nightmare we are living. Again, thank you for what you are trying to do. We need you.

After my Huffington Post series on chronic pain, I created a file for emails from pain patients who can’t find treatment. It’s up to 300 messages.

But they must all be lying. Because the drug czar assures me such people don’t exist.

An exhaustive investigation from Columbia Law School argues yes.

It is now clear that a person was executed for a crime he did not commit, and his name – Carlos DeLuna – is being shouted from the rooftops of the Columbia Human Rights Law Review. The august journal has cleared its entire spring edition, doubling its normal size to 436 pages, to carry an extraordinary investigation by a Columbia law school professor and his students.

The book sets out in precise and shocking detail how an innocent man was sent to his death on 8 December 1989, courtesy of the state of Texas. Los Tocayos Carlos: An Anatomy of a Wrongful Execution, is based on six years of intensive detective work by Professor James Liebman and 12 students.

Starting in 2004, they meticulously chased down every possible lead in the case, interviewing more than 100 witnesses, perusing about 900 pieces of source material and poring over crime scene photographs and legal documents that, when stacked, stand over 10ft high.

What they discovered stunned even Liebman, who, as an expert in America’s use of capital punishment, was well versed in its flaws. “It was a house of cards. We found that everything that could go wrong did go wrong,” he says.

Carlos DeLuna was arrested, aged 20, on 4 February 1983 for the brutal murder of a young woman, Wanda Lopez. She had been stabbed once through the left breast with an 8in lock-blade buck knife which had cut an artery causing her to bleed to death.

From the moment of his arrest until the day of his death by lethal injection six years later, DeLuna consistently protested he was innocent. He went further – he said that though he hadn’t committed the murder, he knew who had. He even named the culprit: a notoriously violent criminal called Carlos Hernandez.

The two Carloses were not just namesakes – or tocayos in Spanish, as referenced in the title of the Columbia book. They were the same height and weight, and looked so alike that they were sometimes mistaken for twins. When Carlos Hernandez’s lawyer saw pictures of the two men, he confused one for the other, as did DeLuna’s sister Rose . . .

All the evidence the Columbia team has gathered on the DeLuna case has been placed on the internet with open public access . . .

Carlos DeLuna commented on his own ending in a television interview a couple of years before his execution. “Maybe one day the truth will come out,” he said from behind reinforced glass. “I’m hoping it will. If I end up getting executed for this, I don’t think it’s right.”

You can read the book and review the evidence here.

The conversation between the reporter and the Tennessee cop in this article is just surreal.

For more than a year, NewsChannel 5 Investigates has been shining a light on a practice that some call “policing for profit.”

In this latest case, a Monterey police officer took $22,000 off the driver — even though he had committed no crime.

“You live in the United States, you think you have rights — and apparently you don’t,” said George Reby . . .

Reby was driving down Interstate 40, heading west through Putnam County, when he was stopped for speeding.

A Monterey police officer wanted to know if he was carrying any large amounts of cash.

“I said, ‘Around $20,000,’” he recalled. “Then, at the point, he said, ‘Do you mind if I search your vehicle?’ I said, ‘No, I don’t mind.’ I certainly didn’t feel I was doing anything wrong. It was my money.”

That’s when Officer Larry Bates confiscated the cash based on his suspicion that it was drug money.

“Why didn’t you arrest him?” we asked Bates.

“Because he hadn’t committed a criminal law,” the officer answered.

Bates said the amount of money and the way it was packed gave him reason to be suspicious.

“The safest place to put your money if it’s legitimate is in a bank account,” he explained. “He stated he had two. I would put it in a bank account. It draws interest and it’s safer.”

“But it’s not illegal to carry cash,” we noted.

“No, it’s not illegal to carry cash,” Bates said. “Again, it’s what the cash is being used for to facilitate or what it is being utilized for.”

NewsChannel 5 Investigates noted, “But you had no proof that money was being used for drug trafficking, correct? No proof?”

“And he couldn’t prove it was legitimate,” Bates insisted.

I didn’t realize Tennessee’s forfeiture law was quite this absurd:

He said that, while police are required to get a judge to sign off on a seizure within five days, state law says that hearing “shall be ex parte” — meaning only the officer’s side can be heard.

That’s why George Reby was never told that there was a hearing on his case.

“It wouldn’t have mattered because the judge would have said, ‘This says it shall be ex parte. Sit down and shut up. I’m not to hear from you — by statute,” Miles added.

George Reby said that he told Monterey officers that “I had active bids on EBay, that I was trying to buy a vehicle. They just didn’t want to hear it.”

In fact, Reby had proof on his computer.

But the Monterey officer drew up a damning affidavit, citing his own training that “common people do not carry this much U.S. currency.”

“On the street, a thousand-dollar bundle could approximately buy two ounces of cocaine,” Bates told NewsChannel 5 Investigates.

“Or the money could have been used to buy a car,” we observed.

“It’s possible,” he admitted.

NewsChannel 5 Investigates asked Bates if Reby had told him that he was trying to buy a car?

“He did,” the officer acknowledged.

“But you did not include that in your report,” we noted.

“If it’s not in there, I didn’t put it in there.”

So why did he leave that out?

“I don’t know,” the officer said.

The guy eventually got his money back, but only after four months, and even then only after News Channel 5 started asking questions. He was still required to come back to Tennessee from New Jersey—on his own dime—to claim it. And get this:

He had two clients where police agreed to drop the cases in exchange for a cut of the money — $1,000 in one case, $2,000 in another. In both cases, that was less than what they might have paid in attorney fees.

Miles called that “extortion.”

I’d say he’s right.

Nashville’s New Channel 5 continues to do great work on this topic (and in general, actually). One of their previous reports on forfeiture in Tennessee noted that the vast majority of drug stops on Tennessee interstates were of motorists leaving Nashville, when a drug runner would presumably be flush with cash, than heading into the city, when the car would contain the drugs. Meaning they were willing to let the drugs be sold so they could make a bust that would bring some money back to their respective police agencies.

• America’s is about to get hit with a massive surge in addiction.
• New Yorkers seem to be exceptionally “furtive.” Especially the black and brown ones.
• Good reporting here on police militarization in Ohio.
• Puppycide. Cops show up at the wrong house, kill the owner’s dog.
• Another look at the ugly federal pardon process.
• Fort Lee, New Jersey has banned texting while walking.
• Your waistline is apparently a threat to U.S. national security.

• L.A. Sheriff’s Department deputies harass, arrest photographer for taking pictures of them.
• All of the police officers in Germany fired just 85 bullets last year.
• Bloomberg accidentally explains why New York’s Stop and Frisk program is unconstitutional.
• No-fly list nabs 18-month-old would-be terrorist.
• Remember how U.S. officials keep saying that the violence in Mexico means we’re “winning” the drug war? We must really be winning the hell out of it.
• Dumb federal law means military dogs more likely to be euthanized after service than adopted.

According to the BBC, now is approximately the 250th anniversary of the invention of that magnificent and versatile foodstuff, the sandwich.

I would like to celebrate with the ultimate sandwich thread. Please share your favorite sandwich stories, your favorite sandwich recipes, the name and location of the restaurants where you have eaten memorable sandwiches, and—if applicable—a story about the time a sandwich saved your life, or helped deliver one of your children in the back of a taxicab.

I’ll start.

The best variation on a club sandwich I’ve ever eaten is the swordfish club at Rustico in Alexandria, Virginia. The best Cuban sandwich I’ve ever had, oddly enough, was in Louisville, Kentucky, at a place called Havana Rumba. Best Philly cheese steak was at Primanti Bros. in Pittsburgh. My favorite place for a deli sandwich is still the wonderfully-named Dagwood’s in Bloomington, Indiana. My favorite (and much underrated) sandwich cheese is cream Havarti. My favorite specialty sandwich accoutrement is the jalapeno bacon from Nashville’s Loveless Cafe.  The best burger I’ve ever eaten was at The Fatted Calf in Clayton, Missouri. Best meatball sandwich (and best authentic Italian cold cut sandwich) was at The Italian Store in Arlington, Virginia. Favorite somewhat exotic sandwich: the Banh Mi. My favorite national sandwich chain is Cosi. Or possibly Panera. Finally, just to mix things up, last week I was at Noshville Delicatessen in midtown Nashville. They’ve recently added a bold new creation to their menu called “Reuben Soup.” As you might guess, it’s a Reuben sandwich, only in soup form. I can report that it is a smashing success.

Other sandwich tips:

• Think beyond mayo or mustard. Dress your sandwich with salad dressings, dips (spinach dip is a personal favorite), relishes, and tapenades.

• How to make any sandwich at least 60 percent more delicious: Brush each side with olive oil, add some rosemary or Italian seasoning mix, then press in your Foreman Grill for about 10 minutes on medium heat.

•   Caramelized onions. Always caramelized onions. But to the point where they’re a wee bit charred, so they have some crunch.

Lastly, here is my favorite sandwich-related comedy sketch.

Great reporting by the Miami New Times on the city’s hyper-aggressive Tactical Narcotics Team, which goes by the charmingly subtle moniker “TNT.”

Suddenly, flashing lights bathe the front lawn in red and blue. More than a dozen cops in light-gray polos, dark-gray cargo pants, and black vests flood out of the Chrysler and other unmarked cars, storming through the front gate with guns drawn. Dante drops his beer. Before he can react, a beefy cop tackles him, knocking down his 1-year-old, who screams in terror.

The police, all members of an elite Miami-Dade unit called the Tactical Narcotics Team — TNT for short — arrest Dante and his friends, and haul Khalid and Alexis off to jail as well.

The Levels were just three of the 112 people in Liberty City booked that weekend as part of a TNT operation cheekily dubbed “Santa’s Helper,” which the Miami Herald and local TV stations ate up as a feel-good story about cops keeping the inner city safe — an especially juicy tale when coupled with video of the widow of a slain officer handing out 500 toys to poor children. The Levels’ arrest led the 6 p.m. telecasts, with CBS 4 reporter Peter D’Oench hailing the MDPD for “getting kids in the neighborhood to see… the human side of the officers who love to interact with the children.” A Herald story, meanwhile, offered that the “streets of northwest Miami-Dade [will be] safe for when Santa comes to town.”

However, a two-month investigation by New Times has found that Santa’s Helper was a colossal waste of police resources. Of the 112 suspects arrested, 73 people were charged only with misdemeanor pot possession. The vast majority of the busted pot smokers were either released within 24 hours or avoided jail by promising to show up in court. Of the 73 alleged tokers, 68 of them — including Dante Level and his siblings — had no violent criminal record. If they were guilty of anything, it was smoking a joint on their own front porch.

Police say TNT, a 31-officer team that focuses on aggressive, low-level drug busts such as Santa’s Helper, is vital because their work prevents more serious drug and gang violence. Even as other units specializing in cargo and auto theft were disbanded last month to save money for the cash-strapped department, the brass left TNT and its $3 million budget untouched.

“This is a great way to capture a cross section of robbers, burglars, thieves, and dopers who shoot kids and cops and will openly spray a corner with bullets,” says Maj. Charles Nanney, head of the Miami-Dade Narcotics Bureau. “Cocaine, marijuana, and heroin availability at the street level poses the greatest threat.”

But neighborhood activists and some criminologists say letting an aggressive unit loose on small-time users does more to alienate black neighborhoods than it does to end violent crime. Santa’s Helper, they say, is a perfect illustration of how a unit with a history of corruption — and a mound of complaints about excessive force — has lost the War on Drugs. In recent years, three officers who worked with TNT, but not assigned to the unit full-time, were busted in public corruption probes. Meanwhile, 14 current squad members have combined for 40-plus internal affairs probes.

We’ve seen this over and over again. These tactics are typically justified on the argument that they’re only used on the nastiest, most dangerous drug distributors. Time and again, when local media looks into what these raids typically turn up, they find vanishingly few weapons, significant drug busts, or felony charges. In the case above, three people were charged for possessing the same joint.

The one difference with the TNT unit is that, as the story indicates, while it was initially set up to target criminals with violent histories, busting low-level offenders with the shock-and-awe bullshit is now stated policy.  So they’ve dispensed with the pretense. If a few toddlers and grandmas get in the way of scaring the vocabulary out of the city’s pot smokers, well, that’s a price these cops are willing to pay.

But I suppose there’s no questioning the results. As I understand it, Miami is now basically drug-free.

The Nation‘s Liliana Segura digs up a devastating, 35-year-old case that calls up the horrors of a number of tough-on-crime policies, most notably juvenile life without parole.

On August 29, 1976, around 1:40 am, a fire erupted at 1138 Spruce Street in Chester, Pennsylvania. The building, in a row of two-family homes just south of the Delaware Expressway, burned for two hours, killing two boys: 13-year-old Brian Harvey and his 6-year-old brother, Derrick.

Neighbors spotted two local girls at the scene: 16-year-old Frances Newsome and 14-year-old Trina Garnett. But according to early reports in the Delaware County Daily Times, “the immediate focus” was Trina, a “mysterious girl” with a “grudge” against Sylvia Harvey, the boys’ mother. Investigators theorized that she had broken a kitchen window and climbed through, lighting matches throughout the first floor of the house and then escaping before it went up in flames. On September 3, Trina was arrested and charged with homicide, arson, conspiracy and burglary. She was held without bail; police told reporters she would be tried as an adult.

The youngest of twelve kids, Trina was known as a slow child. She had a very low IQ and couldn’t read or write. Kids made fun of her for sucking her fingers. Her mother died when Trina was 9, and her father was a violent alcoholic capable of unthinkable cruelty. (Sworn affidavits describe, in addition to horrific abuse against his wife and kids, how he once beat the family dog to death with a hammer as Trina watched, then made his children clean up its remains.) From the time Trina was young, she was mostly cared for by her siblings: among them, Edith (or Edy), the eldest, who took over her mother’s responsibilities, and twin sisters Lynn and Linda, just a year older than Trina. In and out of homelessness, Trina and the twins slept in cars and abandoned buildings, washing their clothes in police stations and foraging for food wherever they could, including from trash cans.

When she was 11, Trina was sent by her grandmother to Allentown State Hospital for mental treatment; she was discharged at 13 against the advice of her doctor and stopped taking her medication.

Following the fire, prison officials requested she be given a psychiatric evaluation, after which she was deemed unfit for trial and hospitalized. A second evaluation yielded a diagnosis of schizophrenia. But a third assessment, just a few weeks later, deemed her competent to stand trial. Her lawyer did not challenge the decision. Nor did he challenge the prosecutor’s successful push to try Trina as an adult. (He would later be jailed and disbarred.) Trina was tried in March 1977. Trial transcripts have been lost, but it’s clear that she took the stand as the sole witness for the defense. Frances Newsome was the key witness for the prosecution, telling the jury Trina had set the fire as revenge on Sylvia Harvey for forbidding her sons to play with her.

Trina was found guilty of arson, two counts of second-degree murder and “causing a catastrophe.” The conviction sealed her fate. Had she been facing the death penalty, she would have had the right to introduce mitigating evidence, according to a Supreme Court ruling the previous year striking down mandatory death sentences as cruel and unusual punishment. But no such right extended to defendants facing mandatory life sentences. In Pennsylvania this meant that Trina’s age, severe mental problems, history of abuse and neglect, and, most crucially, rehabilitative potential were not up for discussion. Bound by the state’s mandatory sentencing statutes, on July 7, 1977, Delaware County Judge Howard Reed handed down two life terms plus up to forty years in prison. He called her case “one of the saddest I’ve ever seen” and expressed worry that there was “no facility whatsoever to take care of these few juveniles in desperate need of a secure, safe and meaningful facility.”

His words would prove prescient. Trina had barely begun her sentence at the State Correctional Institution (SCI) at Muncy when she was raped by a prison guard. She got pregnant and delivered the baby, which was taken into foster care. Trina’s sister Brenda (who died in 2003) eventually won custody of the child. His name is Rodney.

Today, Trina is one of approximately 470 prisoners in Pennsylvania serving life without parole for crimes they committed as teenagers.

She has since been diagnosed with MS, and is confined to a wheelchair. (Echoes of the Paul House case.) The story just gets more awful from there.

The U.S. Supreme Court will hand down its decision on juvenile life without parole in the fall.

I’m in New York for the weekend. So here’s Steve Earle. He’s going to New York City, where he hears that the girls are pretty.