Miranda document

Question Description

Use the Miranda Document ONLY to answer answer the following questions in a properly formatted document (list your answers 1., 2., etc.- DO NOT USE COMPLETE SENTENCES OR RETYPE THE QUESTIONS-simply type your answer next to the number; you can use complete sentences for #3, #10, and #20 if you don’t think you can answer appropriately without; failure to follow directions will result in a withdrawal):

1. What date (day, month, year) did Miranda commit his precedent setting crime?

2. When (grade in school) did Miranda have his first criminal conviction?

3. Was Miranda’s victim considered a typical 18 year old? Why/why not?

4. How did police get the license plate number for the car Miranda drove during his precedent setting crime?

5. The victim told police something very specific/unusual about the car Miranda drove. The police noticed this when they found the car in Miranda’s driveway. What was it?

6. For what offense did Miranda spend time in Federal prison?

7. Where did Miranda move to around 1956?

8. What type of defense did Miranda’s attorney (Moore) originally feel would be appropriate?

9. What U.S. Supreme Court case decision that courts across the country were struggling to interpret, did the Arizona Supreme Court feel did not apply to Miranda?

10. Who was the author of the Arizona Supreme Court’s decision and why did he feel the case in the previous question did not apply to Miranda?

11. Did Miranda’s victim positively identify him in the police lineup?

12. What was the sole item entered into evidence in Miranda’s first trial?

13. What was Miranda’s original sentence in his first trial?

14. Why/how was Miranda found guilty in his second trial if his written confession from the first trial could not be used against him?

15. What was Miranda’s sentence in his second trial?

16. How many times was Miranda turned down for parole before finally being released?

17. What was the name of the attorney who represented Miranda for the U.S. Supreme Court case?

18. Why was the courtroom packed when the U.S. Supreme Court heard the arguments in Miranda v Arizona?

19. Who (full name and title) wrote the opinion in Miranda v Arizona?

20. Effectively, what did the Miranda decision (U.S. Supreme Court) require law enforcement to do?

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This is the story of Miranda that I have used for the past several years—I originally found it on TruTV, but two semesters ago the link and any reference to TruTV disappeared. I recently found it again online and have copied the document so I always have access to it. It is the most extensive document (with the exception of books) I have found that explains the story of Ernesto Miranda in such detail. Miranda v. Arizona From http://www.trutv.com/library/crime/notorious_murders/not_guilty/miranda/1.html The young woman working at the concession stand at the Paramount Theater in downtown Phoenix watched as the last of the Saturday night crowd filtered out beneath the hundreds of lights on the theaters marquee into the cool March evening. The movie that was playing that night was the World War II epic, The Longest Day, and as a result of the shows extra long running time, she was forced to close down the movie theater and walk home along the darkened downtown thoroughfares much later than she was used to. It was shortly after 11 p.m. on March 2, 1963, and in a few moments the 18-year-old woman would become a central character in a criminal act that would have ramifications far beyond her small world. Patricia McGee (not her real name) sat next to a male co-worker for much of her bus ride home, but when their bus reached northeast Phoenix, the two separated and Patty transferred to another route. She got off at her normal stop near Seventh and Marlette streets, on the edge of a commercial district and headed up Marlette toward home. As she walked down the street, a car pulled out from a driveway, nearly hitting her, and headed in the same direction as Patty east. The car stopped about a block in front of her and a man got out and started toward her. Even at 11 p.m. it wasn’t unusual for people to be out on Marlette, but this night, just Patty and the tall, slim dark-haired man were on the street. She glanced at him as they got nearer, but paid little attention. They drew abreast of each other, not making eye contact, and just as she was about to pass the nondescript man, he reached out and grabbed her. His other hand reached over her mouth and he warned her not to make any noise. Don’t scream, he said sternly. Don’t scream and I wont hurt you. Patty begged him to let her go, but the attacker dragged the 18-year-old to his car. He tied her hands behind her before pushing her into the backseat and forcing her to lie down on the floor. The terrified woman did as she was told, and once she was inside, her captor bound her ankles, as well. As they drove away from Phoenix into the desert, Patty continued to plead for her freedom, and the man replied that he wasn’t going to hurt her. He drove for about 20 minutes into the high desert; once he reached his chosen spot, he raped Patty McGee. After the assault, the rapist asked Patty for money, and she gave him the four dollars she had in her purse. He then ordered the violated girl back into the car, threw his jacket over her head and drove back into Phoenix. About a half-mile from her home, he dropped Patty off and sped away into the night. Rape was becoming an ever-increasing problem in Phoenix in the early 1960s. There were 152 rapes in the city the year Patty was attacked, up 20 percent from the year before and 33 percent from 1961, according to Liva Baker, the reporter who wrote the definitive book on the Miranda case. By 1970, Baker wrote, the number of rapes in Phoenix would nearly double from the 1963 figure. Police interviewed Patty shortly after the assault when the hysterical young woman was brought to a local hospital by her distraught family. Physicians told police that Patty had traces of semen inside her, but disputed the girl’s claim that prior to the assault she had been a virgin. Based on her statements, police began looking for a 27 or 28-year-old Mexican man with a mustache, a little less than six feet tall, weighing 175 pounds. The rapist was further described as being of slender build, medium complexion, with black, short curly hair. He was wearing denim jeans and white shirt, and wore dark-rimmed glasses, Patty told police. Her attacker had no accent, she said, and when police pressed her, Patty said he could have been Italian. She was unsure about his heritage, she said, but she would never forget his face and felt confident she would be able to identify him. Patty gave conflicting stories about the course of the events following her abduction, such as whether or not her rapist had removed her clothes or if she had done it herself. She said she had fought her attacker, but her body showed no signs of bruising or cuts. She also was vague about how many times she had been penetrated. During further interviews, investigators found glaring impossibilities in her story, such as the route she said the man had taken to get out of town. Her evasive answers, reluctance to talk and conflicting accounts of the rape would eventually prompt authorities to give her a lie detector test, which was inconclusive. She may have taken a tranquilizer beforehand, and some of her answers were downright untruthful, the examiner told authorities. Patty was unable to give many details about the car the man drove, but believed it was a Ford or Chevy. It was green, she told them, and the interior smelled like paint or turpentine. Oh yes, she added. There was a loop of rope hanging from the rear of the front seat like a handrail to give backseat passengers something to grab on to when exiting the car. Even though Phoenix was above the norm in the number of reported rapes, police were about to file Patty’s case away as a possible fraudulent report because of her vague descriptions and evasive answers, when her family approached police with several pieces of information, one of which would break the case wide open. First, one brother-in-law told investigators Patty was somewhat emotionally disabled, having a measured intelligence of a 12- or 13-year-old. Second, she was so painfully shy that in the three years he had been in the family, she had spoken maybe three dozen words to him. Police should take that into account when questioning her. The third, and most important, revelation came from another brother-in-law who was picking her up from the bus stop because of her fear of walking home alone. They had noticed a green car frequenting the area of Marlette Street, and Patty had mentioned it looked like the one her attacker had driven. It was a Packard, the brother-in-law said, and on the second time he had seen it in the area, he noted the license plate: DLF-312. When police traced the license plate DLF-312, it turned out to be registered to an Oldsmobile that was nowhere near Phoenix on the night of the assault. But the owner of license plate DLF-317 was a woman in Phoenix, and the plate belonged on a green Packard. However, when police went to the address on the registration, they found out that the woman and her mustachioed Mexican boyfriend had moved out two days earlier. No one knew where they moved to, but neighbors did tell police that they had used a produce company truck to move their belongings. With the help of the postal service, police managed to track down the woman at her new address and went to investigate. Approaching the house, one of the officers peered into the back of the green Packard parked in the driveway and noticed a rope strap attached to the rear of the front bench. When Ernest Miranda went with police to their headquarters, it wasn’t the first time he had been in police custody. He had been in trouble from the time he was in grade school in Mesa, Arizona, shortly after his mother died and his father remarried. Ernest and his father didn’t get along very well, and the boy kept his distance from his brothers and stepmother, as well. He was a chronic truant, and had his first criminal conviction when he was in 8th grade. The following year, Miranda was arrested and convicted of burglary, and sentenced to a year in reform school. In 1956, about a month after he was released from the Arizona State Industrial School for Boys, Ernest was walking home one night when he happened to glimpse a nude woman lying on a bed in her home. To Miranda, this was an invitation to enter the home, which he did through the unlocked front door. He got on the bed with the woman, attempted but failed at intercourse, and remained in bed with her until her husband came home and called police. Miranda was returned to reform school for an additional year. Ernest felt that a change of scenery would do him some good, so after he was released from the reformatory, he headed west to Los Angeles. A geographic cure didn’t work, and within months he had been arrested on suspicion of armed robbery he was not convicted as well as some minor sex offenses including being caught in the act of being a peeping Tom. After his arrest and two-and-a-half month detention on the armed robbery charges, authorities felt that the people of California would be better off without Ernest Miranda and deported the 18-year-old back to Arizona. With an already lengthy criminal record, few job skills and no family support, Miranda did the only legitimate thing he could do in the face of such hardship he joined the Army. Unfortunately, a second geographic cure, with the help of Uncle Sam, didn’t change Ernest Miranda. His service record lists AWOL and voyeurism charges and Miranda spent six months in the Fort Campbell, Kentucky stockade at hard labor. After 15 months in the service, during which time he was ordered to consult a psychiatrist but only went to one session, Miranda was dishonorably discharged. He drifted around the south for a few months, spending time in jail in Texas for vagrancy, and was arrested in Nashville driving a stolen car. Because he had taken the stolen vehicle across state lines, Miranda was sentenced to a year and a day in the federal prison system, serving time in Chillicothe, Ohio and later in Lompoc, California. Through no work on his part, Ernest kept a low profile for the next couple of years, moving from menial job to menial job before landing a position as a laborer on the night loading dock for the Phoenix produce company. He was still working at the produce firm, where his foreman told authorities he was one of the best workers there, when police showed up to question him about Patty McGee’s rape. Police officers Carroll Cooley and Wilfred Young were met at the front door of Miranda’s home by his common-law wife; a 29-year-old mother of a boy and a girl by another man, from whom she could not afford a divorce. Miranda was sleeping in the bedroom, having returned about an hour before from his 12hour shift at the produce company. The woman, Twila Hoffman, owner of the Packard in the driveway, woke Ernest who pleasantly, if hesitantly, greeted the detectives. Cooley asked Miranda to accompany them downtown for questioning about the rape and robbery of Patty McGee. We didn’t want to talk with him in front of his wife, Cooley said later. The officers’ concern for Miranda’s domestic relations was not entirely altruistic. Criminal investigators rarely want to question a suspect in a place that is familiar and comfortable to the alleged offender. Interviewing a suspect felon is a battle of psychology and wits, and police, who almost invariably have more experience at interviewing than the accused, enjoy a tremendous advantage. The principal psychological factor contributing to a successful interrogation is privacy being alone with the person under investigation, wrote Fred Inbau and John E. Reid in their law enforcement text Criminal Interrogations and Confessions. Inbau and Reid go on to say that in his own home, (the suspect) may be confident, indignant, or recalcitrant. He is more keenly aware of his rights and more reluctant to tell of his indiscretions within the walls of his home. Moreover, his family and other friends are nearby, their presence lending moral support. In his own office, the investigator possesses all the advantages. The atmosphere suggests the invincibility of the forces of the law. At this point, Miranda was unsure of his status with authorities. I didn’t know whether I had a choice, he said later. I got in the car and asked them what it was about. They said they couldn’t tell me anything. In fact, he was under arrest, and would have had to accompany the officers to the station whether he wanted to or not. Almost immediately after arriving at the headquarters, Cooley and Young put Ernest Miranda into a line-up with three other Mexican-Americans from the city jail who approximately matched his physical appearance. Miranda was the only man who wore a shirt that allowed viewers to see his tattooed arms. They brought in Patty McGee, who looked at the group through a two-way mirror. The first man in the group similar to her attacker, she said, but she couldn’t be sure. She asked to hear the man Ernest Miranda speak. All in all, it was an unsuccessful line-up from the police perspective. How did I do? Miranda asked Cooley when he was being taken to a sterile interrogation room. You flunked, Cooley lied. The two officers and Miranda sat down in Interrogation Room 2, a small soundproofed room with three chairs two on one side and one (for the suspect) on the other. At no point was Miranda advised of his Fifth Amendment right to not incriminate himself or his Sixth Amendment right to consult with a lawyer, but Cooley said later on the witness stand that he believed Miranda was familiar with his Constitutional rights. He was an ex-convict and had been through the routine before, Cooley testified. It didn’t take long before the officers had extracted a confession from Ernest about the rape of Patty McGee. The officers denied from the outset that they had coerced the confession, and also disputed Miranda’s claim that if he admitted to the rape, they would drop the robbery charge. Miranda, in his own testimony, said the officers threatened to throw the book at me. They would try to give me all the time they could. He also claimed that they promised to get him psychiatric counseling for his obvious sexual deviancy. Cooley and Young brought Patty McGee into the doorway of the room so that she could hear Miranda’s voice. Ernest, believing that Patty had already identified him from the line up, was asked if Patty was the girl he had raped. That’s the girl, Miranda said. After Patty left, the officers presented Miranda with a sheet of paper with a disclaimer at the top: the suspect, in making the written confession, acknowledged that the confession was voluntary and that he understood his rights even though those rights were not spelled out on the paper. Miranda wrote a confession that verified many of the same details Patty McGee had told police. The entire process had taken a little under three hours, but by shortly after lunch, 10 days after the rape, Ernest Miranda had given a confession that would be subject to debate all the way up to the United States Supreme Court. Miranda’s court trial was a cut-and-dried affair; the witnesses for the prosecution were Patty McGee, her sister, officers Cooley and Young, and Miranda’s own written confession was the sole item entered into evidence. No witnesses were presented on Ernest’s behalf. The key to the trial, felt his lawyer, 73-year-old Alvin Moore, was that Miranda’s confession was coerced and thereby inadmissible. Moore was appointed by the court and reluctantly agreed to serve. He had extensive experience in criminal law, and had an outstanding record in defending rapists: in 35 trials, only one defendant had been convicted of rape. Moore had only the month before added his name to the list of attorneys who would accept the $100 fee for defending the county’s indigent clients; he had stopped practicing criminal law several years before out of self-preservation, he told Liva Baker. In close association with criminals, you begin to think like criminals, Moore said. In self-protection, I gradually began to withdraw from the practice of criminal law. After reviewing Miranda’s record, Moore felt that an insanity defense would be appropriate, and filed notice of his strategy one day before the case was set for trial. Over the next several weeks, Miranda met with psychiatrists for the defense and the state, who eventually told the court that Miranda was at least fit to stand trial. Even though Ernest was found to be mentally abnormal, he was able to understand the charges against him, the possible ramifications of a guilty verdict, as well as assist in his own defense. The reports forced Moore to abandon his insanity defense claim. The case was set for trial in mid-June 1963. Patty McGee took the stand first for the prosecution and in quiet, halting tones, told the jury what had happened to her the previous March. She was a typical rape victim, traumatized by the assault, and several times she had to take breaks to recompose herself. When Cooley took the stand and the prosecution attempted to have Miranda’s confession entered as evidence, Moore objected. He felt Miranda’s confession was in violation of the Fifth Amendment, and that it was inadmissible. He questioned Cooley about the procedure for getting the admission from Miranda. Did you warn him of his rights?, the former military prosecutor asked Cooley. Yes, sir. At the heading of the statement is a paragraph typed out, and I read this paragraph to him out loud, Cooley responded. It is not your practice to advise people you arrest that they are entitled to an attorney before they make a statement? No, sir, Cooley said. Moore objected to the introduction of the confession because he believed the U.S. Supreme Court had ruled that a suspect is entitled to an attorney at the time of arrest. He was referring to the high courts decision in Gideon v. Wainwright, where the court had not said a defendant is allowed to have an attorney during arrest, but that all defendants are allowed counsel during trial. Maricopa Superior Court Judge Yale McFate overruled the objection and allowed Miranda’s confession to be heard by the jury. During his jury instructions, McFate reminded the jurors that he had allowed Miranda’s confession to be considered by them, but they were free to overrule his finding if they felt the confession was coerced. Most importantly, however, he told the jury that while coercion of a confession would render it useless to the state, the fact that a defendant was under arrest at the time he made the confession, or that he was not at the time represented by counsel or that he was not told that any statement he might make could or would be used against him, in and of themselves, will not render such confessions involuntary. It didn’t take the jury long to decide that Miranda was guilty of rape and kidnapping. Two weeks later, Ernest Miranda was sentenced to 20 to 30 years on both charges, sentences to be served concurrently. Moore believed that McFate had erred when he allowed the confession to be entered, and he felt that without it Miranda would have beaten the charge. He believed, and other observers concurred, that he had shown reasonable doubt as to the elements of the crime at the time, Arizona required rape victims to resist to the utmost and McGee had not been able to testify that she had done so. Alvin Moore immediately appealed the case to the Arizona Supreme Court. Was the statement made voluntarily?, he asked in his brief. And was appellant (a Mexican boy of limited education) afforded all the safeguards to his rights provided by the Constitution of the United States and the laws and the rules of the courts? By the time the Arizona high court got around to considering Miranda’s appeal in 1965, the U.S. Supreme Court under the liberal Earl Warren had weighed-in on the side of defendants rights. They had taken a half step toward Moore’s trial claim that a s …
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