American Samoa Courts, Part 1

     I don't yet have a firm grasp about the American Samoa legal system  Eventually I will post more about it. One can critique; there are flaws and issues,but it functions. The legal system can be, and often is, indeed harsh and difficult, yet every day it seems I see another facet. Some are good, some not. It's a target that keeps shifting and moving. Today was good; a few days ago quite the opposite. I need more exposure here, and will post when I have that. Let me at least start with the very basics.

     American Samoa has its own court system. It is not a US Federal Court. It is not a part of any circuit court of appeals. It is completely home grown. It has very, very little to do with American courts, and there is little to no connection between them.

    There are three levels. At the basic level there is a District Court. This handles all misdemeanors, first appearances in felony cases, juvenile and child neglect cases, and most driving (DWI) felonies. Here is a photo of me standing in front of the District Court building:

Rick at District Court one fine January morning.

That is customary court attire. No, I rarely wear it, almost always I wear slacks, a dress shirt, and a tie. Jackets are never worn. Nor shoes. Everyone wears sandals or flip-flops to court. It seems strange until you see the judges take the bench with bare legs beneath the robes, and flip-flops on their feet. Let me repeat for you snow-bound denizens of frigid Minnesota who might be tempted to snicker: I WEAR FLIP-FLOPS EVERY DAY TO COURT. ALL WINTER LONG. So there.

Here is the District Court building:

American Samoa District Court building, Fagatoga

District Court, old High Court (to be repaired)

It survived the tsunami pretty well. There is one courtroom, rather large, and one really small one. They usually handle juvenile cases in the small one, insuring privacy because no one can fit inside except for the parties. I rarely do misdemeanor cases here, but I appear here sometimes for felony arraignments and probable cause hearings. They make a big deal of those p.c. hearings; elaborately questioning the defendants to make sure they know what an important right it is. No case in living memory has ever been found not to have probable cause; so those who waive it lose nothing. I've had several; they call an investigator who reads the complaint into the record. Then the judge finds p.c. much as he did when he signed that same complaint a couple days before. Most get waived. You tell me any effective difference?

     Then there is High Court, where all felony cases go after the silliness of a p.c. hearing. High Court is the domain of the Chief Justice, the lord of this realm. High Court is where I go almost every day.  The Chief Justice handles most of the felony cases. There is an Associate Justice, who does some, but he mainly handles civil cases. Here are photos of the High Court:

High Court (temporary)

High Court, break time

This is a temporary building, the real High Court is adjacent to District Court and got severely damaged in the tsunami. Here's a photo of the old one:

Old High Court, a moldie oldie due to tsunami

You may recall the story of the frozen files (see Tsunami). They sit in the parking lot, right. As a big surprise, at least to me, they say this building will be rehabbed soon. Mold experts have been brought in, plans made. I have no idea where money to do this will come from, as the government is reducing employee hours and raising all kinds of taxes just to keep operating. There is no money here. Stay tuned.

UPDATE:  As of mid-2011, the old High Court building is back in use.  I am bummed out, never having had the opportunity to appear in this building.

     There is a group of Samoan judges, about 5 or 6. Some are lawyers, some aren't. Every case has the main judge and (usually) two Samoan judges. The Samoan judges don't participate in criminal cases, save in one respect. They are consulted as to the sentencing. The main judge decides it, but the Samoan judges have some influence. They can, and do, temper to a wee bit the overall harshness of the law here. The Samoan judges do control and decide internal cases, mainly of property disputes (traditional family lands have very fuzzy borders) and titles. Every family, every village, has ranking people, usually men but also women, who get titles. The highest is matai, the top chief. There is a bewildering (to me) number of lesser and related titles and ranks. The Samoan judges hear cases when a title has to be granted, usually by death of the title-holder. So they are busy; these are court trials with evidence taken.  I find the Samoan judges to be very friendly, quiet and decent fellows.

     Finally there is the Appellate Division. That consists of one of the other main judges (apart from the trial judge) and two assigned judges from the USA, often federal circuit or district court judges. They come about once every two years, hear some appeals, then leave. I'll have more to say about appeals later. Suffice for now to note that appeals are infrequent, costly, far to strung out, yet even so too often embarrassing (in their eyes) to the regular judges here. Overall, except for the amusement value, appeals are insignificant.

     Here are a couple photos of our office:

Central inner area, that's Steph and receptionist Flo

Rick and Joe, the new guys, hard at work. 

PD entry and reception area.

I will generously describe the facilities as “spartan”. Supplies are few; I use my own little travel computer as there is no other for me. The phone lines buzz, the AC often dies, the carpets make “threadbare” a step up. Best of all, if you work late (i.e. pretty much anytime after 4:00 p.m.) you are not alone; furry little friends scamper in, and occasionally out, of the walls and ceilings. We PD's always get the raw deal, you say? Well yes, but this is the Executive Office Building, the best on the island; the Governor's office is just down the hall. My colleagues are highly dedicated lawyers and a pleasure to work with. OK, not as experienced as my favorite A team back home, but super people indeed.

     We are about a half-mile from the courts. We drive to & fro in PD01 and PD02:

PD-01 at District Court

PD-02 on the wharf outside High Court

They really are PD01 and PD02 – check the license plates (PD-02 is hanging from the rear window!). They both make funny noises, both badly need service (no money for that!) and somehow, both stay running. Elegant, they are not.

     The jail, where most of our clients reside, is a good news-bad news deal. The bad is that it's about 20 – 30 minutes drive to get there. The good is that the drive is along that glorious stretch of ocean I pictured in my former post A Day In The Life. Here are photos:

TCF - the jail and prison, all in one.

Front entry to TCF; this is all the fence there is.

Note the front gate, right of photo. The door isn't locked – it simply has a latch. Usually not engaged. Inmates can walk out. Sometimes they do; they always return. I recently had an escape charge – my client left (he went over the fence out back), went home for dinner, then snuck back in. He was hungry. They only caught him because somebody saw him walking down the street.  He'll get 5 years for having dinner with Mom.

     Jail transport is a hoot. The van brings prisoners in orange jump suits up to Court. They get out, then mill around in & out of the court building. Families, girlfriends, kids are there and they get together, hug, and talk. If I need to speak to a client, I take him outside, we talk, I bring him back. The jailors don't seem to get bent out of shape about it. Then, in High Court, when they go into the actual courtroom all are shackled hand and foot with big chains. They can only shuffler aound, and can't even sign their names if required. Once they leave court, the chains come off and they meander outside back toward the van. Weird. But, where would they go? They're wearing an orange coverall and it's an ISLAND!!

What about the cases, the actual work? Another post for that. Think harsh, often absurdly harsh. Don't get arrested here.