Night
Cabbie | Murmurs
STOP IN THE
NAME OF THE MAYOR!
A secret study by a university professor has become the
subject of a political tug-of-war between Mayor Vera Katz
and the citizens advisory committee she appointed to overhaul
Portland's police-accountability system.
The preliminary study was sent to the Police Bureau this
summer by researcher Ken Adams, an associate professor in
criminal justice at Indiana University/Purdue University-Indianapolis.
Adams examined several civilian police-oversight systems,
including Portland's oft-criticized body, the Police Internal
Investigations Auditing Committee.
Members of a citizens' work group whom Katz appointed to
recommend ways to improve PIIAC want the document to be
made public before the City Council votes on any reforms.
"One of the big issues from the get-go has been whether
the current system is working or not," says committee member
Alan Graf. "Here's a professor from outside the city who's
completely objective. His study would help support one side
or the other."
The committee asked to see the study after Diane Lane,
a member of the committee, says Adams told her in a telephone
conversation that PIIAC got poor marks in his survey of
people who'd gone through the complaint system.
But Katz won't budge. She argues that the correspondence
is not hers to give, even though it is under her control
as the police commissioner. Aides to the mayor, who has
historically opposed anything more than tinkering with PIIAC,
have refused to release the study.
They also cite a Sept. 12 letter from Adams requesting
confidentiality. "At this time the findings are highly tentative,"
wrote Adams, adding that his data could "be subject to misinterpretation."
"It's not our data, it's not our study," says Katz aide
Elise Marshall. "When he completes the report we will release
it."
Unfortunately that may not be in time for the council to
vote on PIIAC reform.
Graf plans to appeal the city's denial.
--Nick Budnick
12 YEARS
FOR LARRY
Ten long years after their son's unexplained disappearance
from a Portland nightclub, after the recurring nightmares,
the tooth-grinding uncertainty, the false leads and the fading
hope, Michael and Penny Moreau finally got the chance this
week to confront the man responsible for their agony.
Before a packed courtroom on the sixth floor of the Multnomah
County courthouse, rock promoter Larry Hurwitz, 45, clad
in pink T-shirt and jailhouse blues, stared sullenly into
space as the Moreaus recounted how their son Tim, a naive
21-year-old Reedie, vanished into the darkened corridors
of Starry Night on Jan. 23, 1990, a few days after a John
Lee Hooker concert involving counterfeit tickets.
"The last 10 years have been a living nightmare for me
and my family," said Mike Moreau, a social worker from New
Orleans. "For the first eight years, we were living a paradox--knowing
logically that our firstborn son was dead, but not willing
to give up the hope that somehow, somewhere, he might still
be alive."
Despite widespread suspicions, the case went unsolved until
1998, when investigators tracked down Hurwitz's ex father-in-law,
Harvey Freeman, in Thailand. Freeman told prosecutors what
he knew of the murder in exchange for immunity. In 1999,
George Castagnola, a former Hurwitz lieutenant, confessed
that he and Hurwitz strangled him with a garrote made from
a broomstick and speaker wire after Moreau threatened to
tell the police about the ticket scam. Castagnola said they
wrapped Moreau in duct tape and buried his body on the Washington
side of the Columbia Gorge.
After the Moreaus' statements, Judge Kimberley Frankel
asked Hurwitz if he wished to say anything. Every eye turned
to the former rock impresario. Would he finally crack? Would
he offer even a hint of remorse?
But faced with this opportunity to confront the truth head
on, Hurwitz swerved. "This has been a difficult experience
and process for everyone," he said in a barely audible mumble.
"I did not do or participate in any way in what George Castagnola
or Harvey Freeman said I did. Tim Moreau's death was a tragedy...I'm
deeply sorry for anything I did to contribute to the pain
of his parents."
Breaking the stunned silence afterwards, Frankel reminded
Hurwitz that while Moreau's death was undoubtedly a tragedy,
it was also a crime to which Hurwitz had last month pleaded
no contest in return for a reduced sentence. As such, she
sentenced him to 12 years and two months in prison.
--Chris Lydgate
SOB GETS A SLAP
ON THE WRIST
Notorious Portland divorce lawyer Allan Knappenberger this
month faced his most serious challenge ever before the Oregon
State Bar and survived largely unscathed.
The State Bar issued Knappenberger a letter of reprimand
on Sept. 8. Weak as it is, this punishment is the toughest
discipline yet for the man critics hold up as a case study
in the Bar's inability to discipline lawyers (see "S.O.B.,
Esq.," WW, March 22, 2000).
The reprimand arose from a 1996 case where Knappenberger
was hired by A.C. Avery, who had previously been convicted
of Medicare fraud, to foreclose on a nursing home that he'd
sold to Daniel Knapp. Knappenberger's handling of the case
was later described by Marion County Judge Paul Lipscomb
as resembling "a deliberate pattern of obstruction, [engaging
in] financial confusion...and trying to make Knapp look
like a poor credit risk."
Knapp then filed a complaint with the Bar accusing Knappenberger
of knowingly making a false claim. Knappenberger denied
any wrongdoing. The bar's reprimand dings Knappenberger
only on the minor charge of bypassing an opposing lawyer
to contact their client.
"I am personally disappointed. A reprimand is a slap on
the wrist," says lawyer Mike Knapp, who represented his
brother Dan in the foreclosure case. "This is a sign for
the public to get more involved in the process, because
I don't think the Bar is doing a good job of policing itself."
Some 87 complaints have been filed against Knappenberger,
including accusations from dozens of clients who say he
overbilled them and others who say he mishandled their case.
But Knappenberger's consistent denial of wrongdoing has
apparently been persuasive--at least to the Oregon State
Bar. Only three complaints resulted in a letter of admonishment,
the lowest level of discipline. However, 14 complaints are
pending.
Now Knappenberger's critics are taking their case to court.
In March, four current and former employees sued him, claiming
he violated labor laws and forced them to assist in billing
clients for work he never did (see "A Lawyer's Labor Strife,"
WW, April 12, 2000). In July, 11 former clients sued
him, accusing him of overbilling and negligence. And next
month Knappenberger is scheduled to go to trial on a legal
malpractice suit in Multnomah County Circuit Court. In all
cases he has denied the allegations. His attorney, Timothy
Daly Smith, declined to comment.
--Nick Budnick
SILENT NIGHT
AT DEAF CHURCH
These have been trying times for the 25 members of the
First Baptist Church of the Deaf. Their pastor died in the
spring of 1998, and in January 1999 an arsonist set the
church aflame, causing $200,000 in damages--a few months
after their fire-insurance policy lapsed. Now, after the
Ladd Circle landmark has stood mute and shuttered for almost
two years, First Baptist may get a new owner. Last week
the congregation accepted an offer on their burnt-out stucco
sanctuary at 2003 SE Larch Ave., which was built in the
1920s.
According to Tom Hickson of the Northwest Baptist Foundation,
which oversees local Southern Baptist affiliates, First
Baptist's fire insurance lapsed in the confusion following
the pastor's demise, and because the insurance company failed
to follow up effectively. The insurer, which Hickson declines
to identify, sent a bill to the church but made no attempts
to communicate with members in person or via TTY-phones.
"We're talking about a deaf church," Hickson says. "It's
in the name. You can't just pick up a regular phone and
expect to talk to them."
While several local churches have deaf ministries, First
Baptist has been the only Portland church exclusively for
the hearing-impaired since its founding in December 1974.
Since the fire, First Baptist's members have met every Sunday
at Lincoln Street Baptist Church in Southeast Portland,
but they have not joined in Lincoln worship services or
activities despite numerous invitations to do so, according
to Lincoln Pastor Paul Paquin.
The church's buyer and final selling price remain a secret
(its asking price was $175,000) but it appears likely the
building will be used as a residence. First Baptist members
hope to use the proceeds to build a new church and hire
a new, full-time pastor.
--Rachel Graham
STARBUCKS' NEW
TACK
After enduring weeks of bad publicity, customer complaints
and employee protests, Starbucks has decided to bow to the
awesome power of the free press.
In a statement last Friday, Starbucks President and CEO
Orin Smith said, "We recognize that free publications are
an important part of our coffeehouse culture and that they
provide a connection to the communities in which we live
and work."
Early in September, citing excessive "clutter," the latte
leviathan announced plans to cleanse all "alternative" newspapers
from its 3,382 coffeehouses worldwide (including 56 in greater
Portland, only three of which carry Willamette Week)
by Oct. 2.
The idea went over like a dog-turd cappuccino. Starbucks
was hammered in print and on television, particularly in
its hometown, where the Seattle Weekly took to the
streets and defiantly bolted newspaper boxes into the sidewalks
in front of 30 different Seattle-area cafes.
The caffeine colossus had little choice but to back off.
"They realized fairly quickly that they were making a huge
mistake," says Seattle Weekly editor Knute Berger.
"After all, what is Starbucks, other than caffeine and image?"
Indeed, any company self-conscious enough to call its workers
"partners" is bound to do whatever is necessary to appear
to be open-minded and tolerant--in addition to being good
for the environment, fair to the distant campesinos who
grow the products they sell, and not at all like those other
corporate chain stores.
--Ben Jacklet
Murmurs
IDLE GOSSIP, RANK SPECULATION & FAMOUS PEOPLE!
* Another Northwest Portland landmark will soon bite the
dust. Durst's Thriftway will shut its doors Oct.
15. "We've been running in the red too long and we don't
have the deep pockets of Fred Meyer or Zupan's," says store
manager Samantha Durst, whose grandpa opened the grocery
in 1936. "We needed to do a remodel and just didn't have
the resources to pull it off." Worse yet, longtime fans
of the beloved grocery and flower shop can't walk down the
street and drown their sorrows at The Blue Moon Tavern--it
burned down Friday night.
* Speaking of Northwest hot spots...What's up with Ira's?
The restaurant's doors have been locked for several days,
and no one is answering the phone. And speaking of restaurants...Steven
Spielberg and Kate Capshaw dropped in at Newport
Bay with a passel of kids last weekend for a low-key
dinner at the Riverplace.
* Expect a push for more funding for legal aid from
Salem. A study released this week by the Oregon Judicial
Department, the Oregon State Bar and Gov. John Kitzhaber
found that current funding for low-income legal services
meets only 20 percent of the need.
* During her brief and stormy tenure as Portland's top
cop, there were plenty of people who wanted to see Penny
Harrington up against the wall. Well, now they can:
The National Center for Women and Policing announced that
the ex-chief will be added to the "Wall of Fame" at Michigan
State University's School of Criminal Justice.
* In the wake of continuing INS scandal at the airport
and Delta's partial pullout comes more destabling news at
PDX. In a surprise announcement Tuesday, Port officials
said longtime aviation director John Brockley will
depart from his job Oct. 13. A port official says Brockley
was not fired and is leaving to pursue "other opportunities."
No permanent successor has been named.
Night Cabbie
BY Willie Milkis
willie_milkis@hotmail.com
14TH AND ALDER, 2:30 am. I've just dropped off a guy at
his apartment and I take a quick minute to note it on my
trip sheet. A new call comes in, and at the same time a
guy opens my back door and gets in. I don't know where he
came from, and I hate it when people get in without warning,
without asking, and especially late at night. "Can you take
me to the Greyhound station?" "I have a call." I say it
in a way that means, "Get the hell out of my cab," but he
adds, "I'd really appreciate it." I turn around to check
him out. He's black, in his mid-20s, hasn't shaved in a
few days and looks really, really tired. All right, what
the hell, my call can wait. "Where are you taking the bus?"
"Baltimore." "Why?" "It's my home. I'm trying to go pro.
I tried out for the Mariners and the San Antonio farm team.
I didn't make the Mariners, but it looks like Texas is going
to take me on. It's really tough though, keeping your ERA
down and your batting average up." So he's a pitcher. I
drop him around the corner from the bus station so he can
get a cup of bitter coffee before his trip. I feel like
I just got a glimpse of the old days--minor-league pitchers
following their dreams of going pro, riding all-night buses,
cross-country Greyhound trips, whatever it takes, so maybe
one day they can pitch under the big lights. I never got
his name.
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