Legislators may be off for spring recess, but debates about their bills are still happening outside committee rooms. One spicy intra-party exchange between Democratic Assemblymembers focuses on a measure about retail theft — underscoring the difficult balance for lawmakers responding to public concerns about crime, while not over-policing historically targeted communities.

Los Angeles Assemblymember Wendy Carrillo, vice chairperson of the Legislative Progressive Caucus, introduced Assembly Bill 1990, which would allow police officers to make warrantless arrests for misdemeanor shoplifting offenses (as in, items that total $950 or less) if officers have probable cause. Officers do not need to be present when the crime occurred.

Warrantless arrests when police don’t witness the crime aren’t new — officers can already arrest people on misdemeanor charges for domestic violence, violating a restraining order or for carrying a concealed gun at an airport.

The bill has bipartisan support with the backing of Assemblymember Juan Alanis, a Republican from Modesto and vice chairperson of the Public Safety Committee. In a statement, Carrillo said that by “increasing enforcement against suspected shoplifters, we are sending a clear message: we will not tolerate these acts that threaten our public safety and economic vitality.”

But Inglewood Assemblymember Tina McKinnor, a fellow progressive caucus member, urged lawmakers to reject the bill, saying on social media that it was “bad for black and brown folks.”

In an emailed statement, McKinnor told CalMatters that AB 1990 is unnecessary and will promote mass incarceration: “We need our law enforcement partners to enforce the laws on the books, not discourage retailers from asking for help.”

A 2019 report from the Public Policy Institute of California found that African Americans in nearly all California counties have higher arrest rates than whites, and that misdemeanors have increased as a share of all arrests. (Latinos, however, were arrested at lower rates than whites in 26 out of the 58 counties.)

Carrillo pushed back, however, arguing that her bill “is committed to fairness, equity, and the protection of all individuals’ rights, regardless of race or background.”

In an email to CalMatters, Carrillo also said that McKinnor hasn’t met with her to talk about the measure, and that while she is “always open” to discuss policy with colleagues, “I don’t legislate via social media.”

Gardena Assemblymember Mike Gipson, who is one of the bill’s co-authors, also stood by Carrillo, arguing that “communities of color are hurting” because of retail theft and job loss. Gipson also posed a question to his (unspecified) colleague on social media: “What do you offer besides throwing rocks? What do you offer, I ask, as any form of a solution to a statewide problem?”

The debate is emblematic of the tightrope progressive lawmakers attempt to walk on public safety. And it’s an issue that Assemblymember Kevin McCarty, chairperson of the Public Safety Committee, will have to navigate as Carrillo’s bill heads to the committee.

While McCarty’s office said he was not available for comment yesterday, he spoke with CalMatters earlier this month about his approach to retail theft. The Sacramento Democrat said that lawmakers are “at the forefront” to address the issue, and that he aims to have a “balanced response” that does not “overcorrect” with unintended consequences.

McCarty, Assembly Speaker Robert Rivas and Assemblymember Rick Zbur, chairperson of a select committee appointed by Rivas, have their own retail theft legislation.

The potential to “overcorrect” is particularly pertinent with retail theft, as the severity of a perceived crime wave remains up for debate (or as the Brookings Institution put it, “greatly exaggerated.”)

According to another Public Policy Institute of California study, shoplifting rates in California remained 8% below pre-pandemic levels in 2022. Last September, a handful of media outlets poked holes in Target’s rationale to close some of its locations due to crime. And in December, the National Retail Federation had to walk back its claim that half of the $94.5 billion merchandise loss the industry experienced in 2021 was due to organized retail theft (experts put the figure closer to 5%).

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CalMatters.org is a nonprofit, nonpartisan media venture explaining California policies and politics.

The coolest lady I know passed away on February 21, 2024 at the age of 83. Born JoAnn Hinkel on December 15, 1940 in Virginia, she passed peacefully in Crescent City. JoAnn was either loved by most the second they met her or disliked for her lack of a filter, saying things exactly as she thought, and never mincing words. She wore her “B*TCH” necklace proudly as she was not concerned what others thought of her.

Growing up in Stuarts Draft, Virginia wasn’t always easy for JoAnn but she was strong, independent, tough and hard-working. Her younger years took her to Florida, where she worked as a cocktail waitress at the famed Fountainebleau Miami Beach, was lead dancer at tasteful dance clubs, and was an original wedding crasher. Joann and her girlfriend attended many weddings, uninvited, to enjoy the food and entertainment. JoAnn was also a baton twirler, worked in a factory along with her mother using a loom to weave the velvet cloth that lined coffins, and was a beauty.

It was in Blackstone, Virginia that she caught the attentive eye of a military policeman stationed at the base near her home. It was one Lucky Gardella and she took a huge (and brave) leap of faith by getting on a bus and following him to California. As she hoped, but wasn’t 100% sure, he picked her up at the bus station and that was it.

In Eureka, JoAnn worked at Daly’s Department Store for a few years and made many friends. A lot would change in 1976 when Lucky and JoAnn bought their dream piece of land off Snow Camp Road, surrounded by the hills of Eastern Humboldt, and JoAnn became a true mountain woman. They established their piece of paradise, living off grid way before that was a thing, without the amenities of town. In the early days JoAnn would wake up really early and make Lucky’s lunch before he would take off on logging jobs all over and without a phone, would always anticipate his safe return. She would battle scorpions in the firewood, the occasional mountain lion, and wouldn’t hesitate to meet an unexpected visitor with a pistol in hand. We will all miss the sunny day visits under the apple tree listening to her stories and never ending supply of hysterical one-liners. God she was funny. Sitting around the cookie table and bonfire during Christmas tree season will be missed too. She loved handing out cookies, candy canes and cocoa to the children, and visiting with the families that would come get trees.

Ultimately, dementia took JoAnn from us way before we were ready to let her go but she leaves a lasting impression on all the friends and family she left behind. There is a little less sunshine on the mountain but the void is filled with memories of the fearless, strong, witty lady we knew.

JoAnn was preceded in death by her beloved mother, her father, two brothers and one sister. She is survived by her husband of 53 years, Lucky, son Randy, sister-in-law Trudy and nephew Michael.

JoAnn is terribly missed by Lucky, her mountain family, her truest, most special friend Mary Massei and Mary’s husband Joe, Butch & Sherry Reeves, who always made sure JoAnn had homemade goodies to satisfy her sweet tooth, and many other friends and family. She was cremated at Ayres Family Cremation and taken back home to be laid to rest alongside her many pets. May you rest in love, peace and laughter, JoAnn.

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The obituary above was submitted on behalf of JoAnn Gardella’s loved ones. The Lost Coast Outpost runs obituaries of Humboldt County residents at no charge. See guidelines here.

Jacob “Jake” Zukowski passed away peacefully in his sleep on March 5, 2024 at the age of 48. Jacob was born on November 16, 1975 in Pittsburgh, Penn.

He was the beloved son of the late Robert and Claudia (Cygnarowicz) and the adored brother of his late sister, Robin. Although preceded in death by his parents and sister, he forever carried cherished memories and great love for them for all of his remaining days. Jake is survived by his large and loving family — aunts, uncles and many cousins — all who love him dearly. And all whom Jacob dearly loved. He truly felt grateful and blessed to be a part of his family. Jake truly loved Kat, his most-beloved friend and soulmate. Jake loved Rubin (and Arlo and Otis) and all dogs and received great joy from their company. Jake was fortunate to be surrounded by dear friends. He cherished them and enjoyed having fun and spending time with each of them.

When you were with Jake, you were in a “judgment-free” zone! Jake accepted everyone and met them where they were. He offered kindness and love to all. Jake had a big loving, caring and giving heart and he appreciated everyone and everything. His welcoming smile and laughter reached out to so many. His sharp wit and sense of humor made him so much fun to be around.

Jake was a graduate of the Pittsburgh Culinary Institute and worked for many years as a chef. He created exquisite dishes that were enjoyed by folks on both the East and West coasts. For over five years Jake worked at the prestigious Ingomar Club at the Carson Mansion in Eureka, where his talents were appreciated by all who had the pleasure of tasting his dishes and where his kind and generous spirit and fun-loving wit were held dear by coworkers. He then chose to move on and merge his culinary skills with his love of the outdoors. Most recently, Jake was a chef at the Vermillion Valley Resort (VVR) located in the Sierra Nevada Mountains in Lakeshore, Calif. He was able to use his cooking skills while also helping people along their travels on the Pacific Coast Trail — a personal favorite destination for Jake.

Jake loved listening to music and camping. He enjoyed researching and collecting different camping equipment to help make his outings successful. He found solace and peace while spending time outdoors.

Jake was filled with passion, persistence and trust in God. His spirit was strong and courageous. He was filled with gratitude and appreciation. Never bitter or resentful, he forgave everyone. He truly loved. And he loved in a truly pure way. His light will forever shine and his love, ever pure, will remain with us forever.

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The obituary above was submitted on behalf of Jake Zukowsi’s loved ones. The Lost Coast Outpost runs obituaries of Humboldt County residents at no charge. See guidelines here.

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After a protracted legal battle, five California Native American tribes, including the Blue Lake Rancheria, have been granted independence from state authority over their casino operations, giving them the right to regulate themselves, with oversight from the National Indian Gaming Commission.

[DISCLOSURE: The Blue Lake Rancheria is a minority owner of the Outpost’s parent company, Lost Coast Communications, Inc.]

This landmark arrangement stems from an Eastern District of California Court ruling, and subsequent Ninth Circuit appeal, in the case of Chicken Ranch Rancheria v. California. The rulings triggered a mediation process required under the Indian Gaming Regulatory Act (IGRA). And finally, with a “joint stipulation and order for dismissal” issued in late January, Department of the Interior Secretary Deb Haaland approved new gaming procedures for the five tribes.

Ukiah-based attorney Lester Marston, who represented four of the five tribes in the case, described this as a significant victory for tribal authority.

“At this point, the State of California has no regulatory role and no say whatsoever about how the tribe conducts Class III gaming on its reservation,” Marston said when reached by phone last week. (Class III games include banked card games such as baccarat and blackjack as well as slot machines and casino games such as roulette, craps and keno.)

“This is a game changer,” Marston continued. “It not only has far-reaching implications across the state, it has far-reaching implications across the nation.”

Under the new federally approved gaming procedures, the five tribes can put an unlimited number of gaming machines in an unlimited number of casinos on their reservations, though economic conditions will likely dictate how many are actually deployed.

Perhaps more significant, according to Marston, are the financial implications. Typically, California tribes have to negotiate new gaming compact provisions with the state periodically. Each new compact comes with a fixed term, which has historically prevented tribes from acquiring 30-year bond financing from banks.

“The State of California allows every single government within the state — every city, every county, every special district, even the State of California itself — to engage in 30-year bond financing,” Marston said. “Why? Because we recognize that construction of infrastructure improvements doesn’t generate revenue, but yet they have to be done.”

Cities need functioning roads, sidewalks, water and sewer systems to attract business and serve residents, for example, and bonds are the means by which such infrastructure typically get financed.

“Tribes can’t [do that] because banks are only going to loan the tribes money that can be paid back within the term of their compact — because it’s the gaming revenue that the tribes are going to use to repay the loan,” Marston explained.

Under the new arrangement with the National Indian Gaming Commission, the five tribes involved now have a compact in perpetuity.

“No other tribe has this … ,” Marston said. “So it opens up a whole new financing avenue that’s available to them.”

Blue Lake Rancheria Chairman Jason Ramos said this case never would have gone to court if the state hadn’t tried to overstep its authority through the gaming compact negotiation process.

“I think it’s important for people to understand that the tribes really were trying to get a deal with the state,” he said. “We really made an effort.”

The root of the tribes’s dispute with the state concerned negotiations over a new gaming compact. In Chicken Ranch Rancheria v. California, the tribes argued that California illegally tried to force them to negotiate provisions relating to matters that had no direct connection to playing games on the casino floor.

This included matters of family law, such as child support and spousal support orders, as well as environmental regulations and liability for personal injuries or property damage that occur anywhere on casino grounds, including restaurants and parking lots. 

The Indian Gaming Regulatory Act strictly limits the topics states may include in tribal-state Class III compacts to those directly related to the operation of gaming activities. While the state tried to draw such connections, the Ninth Circuit Court found that the proposed provisions  were “far outside the bounds of permissible negotiation” under the Indian Gaming Regulation Act and struck them down.

A press release issued by Marston’s law office put it this way: “The Court held that the imposition of State law unrelated to gaming was a bad faith attempt to use the compacting process as subterfuge for expanding State jurisdiction in Indian country.”

The tribes also argued that various fees demanded by the state amounted to an illegal tax under the Indian Gaming Regulatory Act because, in negotiations, the state failed to offer the tribes a meaningful concession in exchange.

Marston likened this to extortion.

“The state put a gun to the tribe’s head and said, ‘You’ve got a choice: You can either pay up the money — let us rob you — or you can not have Class III gaming,” he said.

Again, the Ninth Circuit Court agreed with the tribes, ruling in their favor and sending the matter into court-imposed mediation.

Ramos said this process works just like baseball arbitration: Each side presents its last best offer to an arbitrator — in this case, retired federal district court judge Raul Ramirez — who then must determine which of the two competing offers best comport with federal law.

“And you don’t mix them up,” Ramos said. “You either pick one or the other.”

Last March, the judge selected the tribes’s offer. Two months later, according to the Press-Democrat, the office of California Attorney General Rob Bonta signaled its refusal to consent to his decision, automatically sending the gaming compact matter directly to the Secretary of the Interior.

In consultation with the tribes, Halaand was then required to prescribe procedures that are consistent with the Indian Gaming Regulatory Act, the relevant provisions of state law and the proposed compact selected by the mediator.

Ramos said the decision in the Chicken Ranch case “reset expectations about what were proper subjects of negotiation [under] the Indian Gaming Regulatory Act.”

He added that the Blue Lake Rancheria doesn’t currently have any plans to add more casino games or secure bonds to finance any new facilities, such as a hotel expansion or new casino facilities.

“In the current state of this county’s economy? I don’t think anybody does,” Ramos said.

But the new secretarial procedures will give the tribe more long-term stability.

“What it says is that our business, as it is now, can continue to operate,” Ramos said. “Our team members, including those union team members, their jobs are safe. Moving forward, we can continue business as usual, and if we have an opportunity in the future, if it’s a financial or economic reality, [then] we have an opportunity to do some new things.”

Asked if he was worried that things might have gone the other way — that the courts or the mediator might have upheld the state’s compact rather than the tribes’s — Ramos replied, “I didn’t sleep for three years, man.”

Looking back, he said the fight was worth the risk.

“We were not willing to make those those concessions to the state, especially in light that they had no meaningful concessions on their side … ,” he continued. “We were really forced to take this route, and I’m glad we did. And I’m glad we prevailed, but it was not certain that we would. But we didn’t give up and we didn’t we didn’t give ground when it came to those areas of our tribal sovereignty.”

Why does this case have such large implications for tribes throughout California and beyond? Marston said that the precedent established in the Chicken Ranch case can now be cited during current and future gaming compact negotiations.

“Right now, for example, the tribes in Arizona and New Mexico have provisions in their compact that require them to pay a percentage of their slot revenue to the state,” he said. “In Arizona it’s 8 percent; in New Mexico and 16 percent.”

Unlike in California, where voter-approved Proposition 1A (1999) waived the state’s 11th Amendment immunities, tribes in Arizona and New Mexico can’t sue over gaming compact provisions.

“But now those tribes have a remedy,” Marston said. “What’s the remedy? Well, now they can stop making their payments to the state. The state is then left with a choice: They can either do nothing and the tribes get to keep the money, or they can initiate the dispute resolution provisions in those compacts in Arizona and New Mexico, and they can sue the tribe.”

Once those states go to court voluntarily, they waive their 11th Amendment immunity.

“If New Mexico or Arizona goes into federal court to sue the tribe [that stopped paying percentages of its slot revenues] … the tribes then can assert as a defense the Chicken Ranch decision and argue that it’s an illegal tax, because the states never gave the tribe a meaningful concession in exchange for the payment of the tax.”

Eventually, through such proceedings, more tribes across the country could join the five from this case in becoming self-governing when it comes to casino gaming operations.

Here in California, two other groups of tribes are in their own federal court processes, according to Ramos, with about half a dozen tribes headed for mediation. The Bear River Band of the Rohnerville Rancheria is among the tribes currently in negotiations, and Ramos said negotiators are pointing to the Ninth Circuit Court ruling in the Chicken Ranch case, along with the newly approved secretarial procedures, and asking the state to adhere to the precedents they established.

Marston said his law firm is currently representing the Buena Vista Rancheria of Me-Wuk Indians, based in Amador County, in a lawsuit against Governor Gavin Newsom’s office. The suit argues that certain provisions of the tribe’s 2016 compact “are invalid and unenforceable as a result of the United States Court of Appeals for the Ninth Circuit’s decision in Chicken Ranch Rancheria.”

Marston’s firm is also representing the Picayune Rancheria of Chukchansi Indians (Madera County) in negotiations over a new gaming compact.

“And surprisingly enough,” Marston said, “the Governor has taken the exact same position with Picayune that he took with the five tribes in their negotiations. So I’m not optimistic that we’ll reach an agreement, and if we don’t, Picayune will be filing suit against the government for that.”

The Outpost emailed a number of questions to Governor Newsom’s office. Among them, when the Eastern District Court ruled that the state had been negotiating in bad faith, why didn’t Newsom’s office simply go back to the negotiating table to pursue a new agreement, rather than filing an appeal, thereby opening itself up to litigation?

In response, a spokesperson replied via email that the office has no comment beyond an explanatory paragraph describing the chain of events in terms that imply inevitability:

After the Ninth Circuit ruled against the state in July 2022 in Chicken Ranch Rancheria v. California, 42 F.4th 1024, the state and tribes proceeded through the remedial process required under the Indian Gaming Regulatory Act. That process concluded when the U.S. Department of the Interior issued secretarial procedures for the tribes on January 31, 2024. Once the remedial process had finished, there was no further action for the court to take and the parties agreed to dismiss the case.

Marston said he was surprised that the state never petitioned the U.S. Supreme Court for review of the Ninth District ruling.

But now, that ship has sailed. When it comes to regulating gaming for these five tribes, the State of California is out forever, he said. “They will never, ever be allowed again to have any say in what these five tribes do regarding gaming on their reservation.”

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DOCUMENT: Class III Gaming Secretarial Procedures for the Blue Lake Rancheria

PREVIOUSLY:

• At a Two-Day Conference in Eureka This Week, North Coast Tribes Advocate for ‘Meaningful Engagement’ With Offshore Wind Developers, Federal Regulators
• Yurok Tribal Council Votes to Formally Oppose Floating Offshore Wind Energy Projects Along the North Coast
• Bear River Tribal Council Joins Yurok in Formally Opposing Offshore Wind Development Along the North Coast

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Press release from the Trinidad Rancheria:

On March 19, 2024, the Cher-Ae Heights Indian Community of the Trinidad Rancheria (Trinidad Rancheria) Tribal Council approved a resolution opposing offshore wind, expressing support for the National Congress of American Indian’s (NCAI) resolution requesting a moratorium on offshore wind energy development, and urging the Department of the Interior and the Bureau of Ocean Energy Management to halt all scoping and permitting for offshore wind projects. The Cher-Ae Heights Indian Community of the Trinidad Rancheria is a federally recognized tribe located on the Pacific coast of Northern California in Humboldt County. The Trinidad Rancheria has ancestral ties to the Yurok, Wiyot, Tolowa, Chetco, Karuk and Hupa peoples.

While they share similar cultural and historical traditions, each tribe has a distinct heritage. The Rancheria is within the aboriginal territory of the Yurok peoples with an ancestral territory which includes the Pacific coastline from Damnation Creek, south to Little River and is located in an area of great cultural significance to the Trinidad Rancheria and other local tribes. The Trinidad Rancheria is situated on a bluff overlooking the Trinidad Bay, an area of Special Biological Significance and the Tribe has a longstanding commitment to the stewardship of its ancestral coastal and marine environments. The Tribe is inextricably connected to the marine environment and continues to be involved in several marine initiatives to foster responsible and sustainable stewardship, healthy and diverse ecosystems, as well as preserve and protect tribal rights within our marine waters.

The Trinidad Rancheria stands in solidarity with other local Tribes in opposition of offshore wind projects until there is shared tribal jurisdictional authority over, and tribal management of, offshore renewable energy activities. There is insufficient scientific research on the adverse impacts associated with the floating wind turbines and platforms, the effects to marine life from the subsea transmission cables and the overland transmission lines, and there has been minimal effort to consult with Tribes on this project that would have massive impacts on our ancestral lands and waters. We have significant concerns regarding the impact to view shed from sacred cultural sites and the impacts to the cultural landscape overall. Additionally, this project is not benefiting the local community and instead asks us yet again, to sacrifice our cultural and marine resources for the benefit of communities far from home.

The Trinidad Rancheria Tribal Council strongly urges the Department of Interior and the Bureau of Ocean Energy Management to halt all scoping and permitting for offshore wind projects until completion of a comprehensive and transparent procedure adequately protecting Trinidad Rancheria environmental and sovereign interests is developed and implemented.

Trinidad Rancheria Tribal Council Resolution TC-24-07 attached for reference.

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After receiving $14 million in funding through the California Jobs First initiative, Redwood Region Resilient Inclusive Sustainable Economy (RISE) – a relatively new community coalition –  is developing a vision to bring more good, sustainable jobs to our region. 

Leoni Fohr, a communications associate for the California Center for Rural Policy (CCRP) at Cal Poly Humboldt, told the Outpost that RISE was formed in 2021 after the California Jobs First initiative (SB 162, formerly known as the Community Economic Resilience Fund) was signed into law with the intent of supporting statewide economic recovery from the distress of COVID-19. It took a while for things to really get going, Fohr said, and the coalition started meeting regularly in February 2023. 

“This past year has been a lot of building up the program, conducting outreach and education and getting folks involved,” Fohr said in a recent phone interview. “We have close to 1,000 members in our community and a lot of representatives from community-based organizations.” 

Those members are made up of representatives from local tribes, education, environmental justice groups, labor unions and government bodies, collaborating to create a 10-year vision to create more jobs and foster a sustainable economy in Humboldt, Del Norte, Lake and Mendocino counties and tribal lands. The California Center for Rural Policy acts as part of the coalition’s “convening team,” which is in charge of bringing together the various groups and organizations, and also includes representatives from the Arcata Economic Development Corporation, North Coast Opportunities and True North Organizing Network. 

Currently RISE’s vision is still in the planning phase, Fohr said, and it’s working to identify which projects and programs the coalition wants to support. RISE has been accepting project proposals, and Fohr said that the $14 million funding will go toward continuing the selection process and prepping the chosen projects to ready them for additional grant funding. Though the $14 million will not go far enough to actually launch the selected proposals, Fohr said, it will allow RISE to get the projects “shovel-ready,” so that they are eligible for competitive grants to keep the projects going. 

“It takes a lot for a project to move from planning to implementation,” Fohr said. “That’s where a lot of projects get stuck – there is funding for the planning, but not enough funding to keep them running. At the end of August 2024, there’s $26 $260 million becoming available in competitive funding. We’re hoping to get the projects ready to apply for that funding.” 

RISE is selecting a wide range of proposals, Fohr said, that would support job creation or workforce development, including developing youth job-training centers, healthcare training and scholarship programs for training firefighters. RISE is particularly interested in supporting programs that offer creative solutions to more than one economic problem, Fohr said. For example, one project RISE is looking to support would work with local healthcare partners to establish an art therapy program and train local artists to lead the classes. This would address our area’s lack of mental healthcare, while also creating jobs for out-of-work artists. 

If you have a great idea for a project or program that will stimulate our regional economic development, RISE is still accepting proposals via its Project Inventory Intake Form. RISE will continue accepting submissions on an ongoing basis, but the deadline to be considered for implementation funding is March 28. 

And if you don’t have a proposal to submit, but are still interested in being involved in RISE’s decisions or just want to learn more about the coalition, you can attend one of RISE’s monthly Collaborative Meetings, held over Zoom on the last Thursday of each month. That means the next meeting is coming right up – Thursday, March 28, from 11 a.m. to 12:30 p.m. You can join by following this link. 

RISE is meant to be a community-led coalition, so Fohr encourages everyone to get involved in whatever way they can to help RISE hear directly from members of the community on their needs. 

“It’s a fairly new approach to really working with communities…to hear from them what they need,” Fohr said. “This is so valuable on a state level, because it’s hard to picture what it’s like living in a rural area. If RISE does a good job we can show our area’s unique difficulties, but also show our resilience.”

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CORRECTION: This article has been changed from its original version to reflect that $260 million, not $26 million, will be available in competitive funding. That’s a big difference! It has also be changed to reflect that CCRP is a part of Cal Poly Humboldt. 

People are dying in custody at record rates across California. They’re dying in big jails and small jails, in red counties and blue counties, in rural holding cells and downtown mega-complexes. They’re dying from suicide, drug overdoses and the catch-all term natural causes.

The number of jail deaths is up even though the number of people in jail is down.

The state is aware. Reams of reports from oversight agencies have repeatedly pointed to problems in individual jails and the state board that oversees them.

Gov. Gavin Newsom pledged almost five years ago that the state would take a stronger hand to prevent deaths in the 57 jail systems run by California county sheriffs.

In every year since, more people have died in California jails than when Newsom made that pledge — hitting a high of 215 in 2022. Tulare, San Diego, Kern, Riverside and San Bernardino counties’ jails set records.

Nor was the pandemic the driving factor: California in 2022 had the smallest share of deaths due to natural causes in the past four decades. A surge in overdoses drove the trend of increasing deaths. And almost every person who died was waiting to be tried. A previous CalMatters investigation found that three-quarters of those held in county jails had not been convicted or sentenced, with many awaiting trial more than three years.

A state board was supposed to put in place measures that would keep inmates safer. Newsom committed to working through that board when he said in 2020, “I’ve got a board that’s responsibility is oversight. I want to see them step things up.”

But since then, Newsom and the Board of State and Community Corrections have been unable to slow the deaths. Until recently, the board was not even notified about deaths inside the county-run lockups, and a 2021 State Auditor’s report criticized the board for failing to enforce its own rules and standards on mental health checks and in-cell wellness checks of inmates.

The state has begun to take a somewhat stronger role.

The governor appointed a formerly incarcerated person to the Board of State and Community Corrections, and also signed a bill last year that added to it a licensed health care provider and a licensed mental or behavioral health care provider.

Following through on his 2021 budget proposal to increase the frequency of jail inspections and allow the board to perform them unannounced, Newsom directed an additional $3.1 million each year to the oversight board. The board reported that last year it conducted 31 unannounced jail inspections, a change from past practice when it would visit jails just once every two years, and told jail authorities in advance when inspectors were coming.

And a new law in July will add a staff position to review in-custody deaths, a position to be appointed by Newsom and confirmed by the Senate.

But critics say those steps have been insufficient. For instance, the original bill would have put jail death monitors in every county.

From right, Gov. Gavin Newsom, along with Senate President Pro Tem Toni Atkins, and Attorney General Rob Bonta, speaks in support of Prop. 1 during a press conference at the United Domestic Workers of America building in San Diego on Feb. 29, 2024. Photo by Kristian Carreon for CalMatters

CalMatters sent nine questions to the governor about jail deaths, the effectiveness of the state board, and his own 2021 pledge to strengthen jail oversight.

Newsom’s office did not answer the questions, instead sending a list of accomplishments to reflect “the Governor’s extensive record in this space.” Those mostly applied to his policies for state prisons, such as a death penalty moratorium.

When CalMatters asked him about high statewide jail deaths at a March 1 press conference in the Inland Empire, Newsom responded by saying:

“The governor,” Newsom said, “just signed legislation to actually be able to create a point person specifically responsible for overseeing what’s happening in county jails, working with (Attorney General Rob Bonta), who’s also been advancing investigations. One very close to home here in Riverside County, related to 18 in-custody deaths in 2022 with the current sheriff.”

The officials with the greatest influence over what happens in jails — the state’s elected county sheriffs — say additional state oversight is unnecessary. California State Sheriffs’ Association president Mike Boudreaux, who is also the sheriff of Tulare County, said he already answers to a state oversight board, the state Justice Department, county grand juries, federal courts, state courts and the media.

“What we see is that people criticize jails, they criticize sheriffs’ offices,” Boudreaux said. “And the reality of it is, they’ve never been inside a jail. They’ve never worked side-by-side with the sheriffs’ offices. They’ve never sat in meetings that we sit in to make sure that not only are we doing things right, we’re doing things that are for the safety and security of those inmates.”

In 2011 California — as it thinned severely overcrowded state prisons by sending tens of thousands of recently convicted offenders to county-run jails — created an oversight board for prisons and jails. This 13-member Board of State and Community Corrections is composed mostly of people with law enforcement and probation experience. The governor appoints eight, with one each appointed by the Judicial Council of California, Speaker of the Assembly and Senate Rules Committee.

The other two current board members are the state prison system’s chief and its director of parole operations.

The board’s initial mission was to lend independent expertise to jails and prisons and act as a “data and information clearinghouse.” The board gives out $400 million each year to jails, prisons, tribes and community organizations. It also sets standards for correctional facilities, from the hourly checks performed on inmates to the time set aside for recreation.

Almost immediately after its formation, the board was confronted with the limits of its powers: It lacked authority to mandate that all California sheriffs report their data – including in-custody deaths.

That will change when the state board’s new reviewer of in-custody death starts this summer.

When asked by CalMatters why more people are dying in California jails, despite a declining jail population, Board of State and Community Corrections representative Adam A. Lwin responded, “The BSCC is not in a position to comment on this question with respect to deaths in jails.”

“Until the passage of (the new law adding a detention monitor), the BSCC did not have specific responsibilities related to deaths in custody, beyond inspecting for the local agency’s policy and procedures related to reporting on any death in custody,” Lwin wrote in response to CalMatters’ questions.

So why are so many dying in California jails?

The reasons people are dying at record rates in California jails are a matter of circumstance, although in interviews with more than 70 people involved in California jails systems, from sheriffs and prosecutors to inmates and nurses, some patterns emerged.

Natural causes have long accounted for the biggest share of jail deaths, followed by suicides.

Suicide prevention should be a higher priority for jail staff, said University of Texas School of Law professor Michele Deitch, among the nation’s foremost authorities on deaths in prisons and jails.

“The vast majority of these deaths are preventable,” she said.

The causes of a significant number of deaths for recent years are still pending – meaning that the sheriff’s office hasn’t yet identified the cause or the Justice Department hasn’t updated the cause in its data collection.

But the recent increase in deaths came from the third largest cause overall, accidental deaths including fentanyl overdoses. Overdoses accounted for 43 deaths in 2022.

Fentanyl overdoses present a far deadlier challenge now than the previous dominant drug in jails, methamphetamine. Other factors are the same ones Newsom cited a few years ago: suicide; failures in health care or psychiatric evaluations; and less commonly, violence among inmates or by jail guards.

Protestors hold signs outside the John F. Tavaglione Executive Annex building in protest of jail deaths in Riverside County, on Oct. 31, 2023. Photo by Jules Hotz for CalMatters

First: A row of cells in an inmate housing unit at the Tulare County Adult Pre-Trial Facility on Sept. 18, 2023. Photo by Larry Valenzuela, CalMatters/CatchLight Local. Last: Sabrina Weddle protests in front of the San Diego Central Jail in San Diego on Oct. 24, 2023. Waddle’s brother, Saxon Rodriguez, died while in custody at the jail after overdosing on fentanyl in 2021. Photo by Adriana Heldiz, CalMatters

Shannon Dicus, San Bernardino County’s Sheriff and a member of the Board of State and Community Corrections, said the rise in deaths in part reflects trends that are unfolding outside of jails, including an overstretched mental health system and widespread use of potentially deadly opiates.

For his deputies, a persistent issue is people who know they are in violation of their probation terms hiding drugs in their bodies before they’re returned to jail.

“So a lot of these folks are secreting opiates in their rectum,” Dicus said. “We run dogs through. We do a number of things. We’re spending $250,000 on body scanners. And what happens is some of these people, they’ll have it in their bodies where we can’t detect it.

“They go into the jail, they get housed in their general housing assignment, and then all of a sudden I have seven fentanyl overdoses. And that’s the truth.”

Dicus said jails also find letters sent to inmates in the mail that were dipped in diluted fentanyl or methamphetamine.

But sometimes the jail-keepers themselves are responsible. During the pandemic, when jails were closed to visitors, drugs still found a way in. Jail deputies in Riverside and Fresno counties have been charged with drug smuggling, and an Alameda County civil grand jury found that a private jail contractor fired the medical director of the county’s jails for writing fake prescriptions to obtain opioids for herself.

Sheriffs have sometimes resisted outside pressure to more closely monitor their employees. In San Diego County jails, where according to Justice Department statistics 47 people died between 2021 and 2023, Sheriff Kelly Martinez and her predecessor have repeatedly refused requests from the local civilian law enforcement review board to put her deputies through scanners before they start their shifts. Two jail deputies pleaded guilty to drug-related charges last year, one for burglary of medication from a jail prescription medication drop-off box and the other for possession of cocaine on jail property.

Burned out jail medical staff

Jails could do a better job beginning at intake and reception, said Corene Kendrick, deputy director of the American Civil Liberties Union National Prison Project. She noted that people who have been arrested often are asked deeply personal questions about their substance use and history of self-harm, within earshot of jail deputies and other inmates.

If they don’t disclose that they have drug or alcohol dependency – perhaps fearing that will lead to more charges – Kendrick said the immediate cutoff can pose an enormous health risk.

And for people who are on psychiatric medication but don’t like the side-effects or don’t want to disclose their condition, the cessation of their medication can send their mental health into a tailspin.

The pandemic also badly dented jails’ ability to provide quality health care, critics contend.

When jails reopened to their regular capacity, Kendrick said, the arrival of new inmates and the resignations of burned-out health care workers stressed the systems beyond their breaking points. “A lot of jails have said that they’re having problems with correctional and health care staff who quit during the pandemic,” she said.

“I was not able to offer the kind of medical care that I wanted to be able to offer and that contributed to burnout for me.”
— Dr. Lauren Wolchok

One of those was Dr. Lauren Wolchok, who worked in Los Angeles County jails from 2016 to 2021. Before and during the pandemic, she said, the number of opioid-dependent patients she saw skyrocketed. But those jails strictly restricted opioid treatment, she said, confining it to a small subset of the population that needed it.

“I was not able to offer the kind of medical care that I wanted to be able to offer and that contributed to burnout for me,” Wolchok said. “I had long struggled with the existential crisis of, am I doing more harm than good by working in this terrible setting or am I sort of fighting against the system and getting people care that they otherwise wouldn’t have?

“Especially as the quality of the care that I felt I was delivering declined, it became harder and harder for me personally to decide that I was fighting the good fight.”

Drug overdoses, insufficient medical treatment, suicides — all of those causes of jail deaths could be minimized by more stringent policies. Academics, inmates and their advocates suggest scanning jail workers for drugs, providing a ready supply of the opioid-blocking naloxone nasal spray, ensuring inmates go through intake in a more private area, performing more frequent checks of inmates, and instituting local oversight boards.

Those decisions fall to one person: The county sheriff.

An overdose? Or a heart attack?

Some of California’s deadliest jails are in Riverside County, where 45 people have died since Jan. 1, 2021. One of them was Richard Matus.

Matus knew he wasn’t feeling well days before he died.

In journals he kept during his incarceration, which his family provided to CalMatters along with his medical records, Matus complained of feeling ill and receiving no medical help in jail.

“Its hard to deal with being treated as a sick animal an feeling like im just waiting to die,” he wrote in one entry. “Iv put in medical slips to see a doctor because I felt sick, very dizzy, bad head ack, felt like I was running fever and completely lost my sense of smell witch was really weird. They never followed up I believe it was twice I put in medical slips an no response so I gave up.”

Matus, whose family said he hadn’t used drugs besides marijuana before his incarceration, was found dead in his cell on Aug. 10, 2022, of a fentanyl overdose.

The Riverside County Sheriff’s Department coroner’s death record for Richard Matus Jr. Illustration by Miguel Gutierrez Jr., CalMatters

In a lawsuit filed in March 2023, Matus’ family alleges that Matus was lucid and communicative on the phone with his mother, Lisa, hours before his death. They allege that his “dire need for emergency medical intervention went unnoticed by the (jail’s) custody staff.”

An autopsy conducted eight hours after Matus’ death found something else. His left anterior descending artery, which provides half the heart’s blood supply and is known colloquially as “the widowmaker,” was 80% to 90% blocked. A medical form filled out by Matus on Sept. 26, 2021, indicated that a doctor told him his cholesterol and blood pressure were far above normal.

“Every time he complained to that (jail medical) office, they gave him cholesterol pills and told him to lose weight,” Matus’ mother, Lisa, told CalMatters. “They never sent him to the hospital, even though his blood pressure and cholesterol was (above normal). The whole time, he needed medical care and they just ignored him.”

That contention became part of the family’s lawsuit.

“Due to the great delays in securing adequate emergency medical attention for Richard Matus, Jr., and the failures on behalf of the (jail’s) custody staff in performing the required safety and welfare checks,” Matus’ family wrote in the lawsuit, “Mr. Matus did not respond to medical intervention and died.”

The Riverside County Sheriff’s Office responded to the lawsuit by denying all liability and said that Matus’ death was his own doing.

The family of Richard Matus Jr. stands outside the John F. Tavaglione Executive Annex with memorial photos of Richard, who died in-custody of the Riverside Sheriff’s Department in Riverside County. Photo by Jules Hotz for CalMatters

“If Plaintiffs sustained any injury or damages,” they wrote, “such injury or damages were solely caused or contributed to by the wrongful conduct of other entities or persons other than the answer Defendants.”

Some sheriffs have changed their practices to avoid in-custody deaths. Others say they’re looking for solutions. But Riverside County Sheriff Chad Bianco has instead taken an adversarial approach.

Criticism of his policy and practices, Bianco told the Riverside Press-Enterprise, are a “political publicity stunt of the far left.” He did not answer questions from CalMatters.

After an inmate died in 2022, the Riverside Press-Enterprise posted an interview with Bianco. In the comments under the story, someone who identified himself as Bianco ­ interacted with commenters, referring to the demands of people whose family members had died in his jails.

“Did they demand their family members not commit suicide or consume drugs while they were in custody?” he wrote. “Did they ever demand that their family members not commit crimes in the first place? Did their parents ever demand that they take responsibility for their own actions?”

The ACLU sent a letter in September 2021 demanding that the state investigate Riverside County jails. In 2022, another 19 people died, including Matus. After the ACLU wrote again demanding an inquiry by the state’s jail oversight board in early 2023, Attorney General Rob Bonta launched an investigation.

The Justice Department refused to answer any questions about its investigation. Bianco did.

“This announcement comes as a shock but at the same time should have been expected from our California DOJ and the attorney general who cares more about politics than he does about transparency and the truth,” Bianco said in a video the day the investigation was announced.

“This investigation is based on nothing but false and misleading statements and straight out lies from activists, including their attorneys. This will prove to be a complete waste of time and resources.”

‘All we’re doing is making recommendations to sheriffs’

The attorney general has two open investigations into jails, one in Riverside County and one in Santa Clara County. But the organization charged with overseeing day-to-day operations of California’s jails is the Board of State and Community Corrections.

The board can wield significant power.

When it repeatedly found the Los Angeles juvenile hall were unsuitable for housing last year, it shut down the system and directed the county probation department to find new housing for about 300 young people.

But that was an exception.

A Feb. 9, 2023 board meeting turned contentious when it came to the Riverside County jail system, the 15th-largest in the U.S.

Avalon Edwards, a policy associate of Riverside-based social justice organization Starting Over Inc., said the board was not enforcing its own standards of inmate care.

“If (Riverside County) can kill 20 people in 13 months and fail to provide any information to the families impacted, fail to report those deaths to the DOJ within the 10-day mandated reporting period, continue to lie to the public about the cause of death for all these people,” he said, “what are those minimum standards accomplishing?”

Edwards urged the board to withhold funding from noncompliant departments or, if they wouldn’t, he asked every board member to resign.

Critics argue that the board lacks the ability to effectively regulate jails.

“It is not set up with the kind of enforcement power, or teeth, to be able to meaningfully hold accountable agencies that are failing to comply with standards,” recently recalled San Francisco District Attorney Chesa Boudin told CalMatters. “So that’s one problem. And I don’t say that as a criticism of the organization or the people there so much as of the structure.

“I mean, it doesn’t have the ability to actually impose remedies even when it is aware of violations,” he said.

Two independent state oversight agencies also have found fault with the board and the jail system. The Legislative Analyst’s Office found in 2021 that the board’s effectiveness is hard to judge because it’s unclear what the board’s mission is. It said this “undermines the Legislature’s ability to assess whether the program is operating effectively and is consistent with Legislative priorities.”

The State Auditor’s Office, meanwhile, zeroed in on San Diego County jails in February 2022. It found that the San Diego Sheriff’s Department failed to prevent deaths in its jails and that its practices “likely contributed to in‑custody deaths.” The auditor’s office also found fault with the state corrections board, saying its jail regulations are inconsistent and its answers to the audit were “deficient or misleading.”

Even one member of the state corrections board feels the board’s hands are tied.

“All we’re doing is making recommendations to sheriffs,” said board member Norma Cumpian. “You’re like, hey, 20 people have died in your jails. We recommend that you, you know, report it quicker. Like, that’s not a lot.”

A Tulare County Sheriff stands guard at an inmate housing unit at the Tulare County Adult Pre-Trial Facility on Sept. 18, 2023. Photo by Larry Valenzuela, CalMatters/CatchLight Local

Cumpian, a former inmate who served nearly 20 years in prison for killing her abusive partner, said she often senses indifference or complacency from her colleagues.

As for plans to add a detention monitor, a dubious Cumpian said “I don’t know, this bill is supposed to release reports to the public. Like, what is that gonna do?”

Dicus, the San Bernardino sheriff who operates the seventh-largest jail system in the U.S., doesn’t see a problem with the way the oversight board operates. He said the oversight board is doing its job in accordance with its mission: assessing the policies and procedures of the jails it oversees while ensuring facilities are up to code.

He said the blame for in-custody deaths extends beyond the jails.

“Locally, try getting some help,” Dicus said. “Our local department of behavioral health, and this is not me throwing stones at them, but they’re 9 to 5. We live in a 24/7 environment where people are in crisis. And the crisis that we’re experiencing, the cops are there 24/7, but we need some of these other service providers to have the same level of response.”

He said the state has to rethink how it operates the social safety net at the county level, especially for mental health and substance abuse.

“It’s just typically this is the way we’ve handled everything, and we need to break out of that,” he said. “I think we need kind of a statewide revisit of what’s working and what’s not.”

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CalMatters.org is a nonprofit, nonpartisan media venture explaining California policies and politics.