Roy Maynard: Early Returns

Want to try something really fun? Sneak up behind Sheriff J.B. Smith and yell the word, "tents!"

No, really. Try it. He won't shoot you. At least, probably not.

I'm all for a vigorous debate on the proposed jail project. But every debate must have some ground rules. And a rule that should be enforced now is keeping false alternatives off the table.

The issue of tents is one of them.

Let's debate the merits of the $125 million jail proposition. Let's discuss the price, location, the number of beds and the aesthetics.

But let's make it clear: No tents. Not in Texas. Not now. Probably not ever.

That's not me saying so, that's not the sheriff saying so. That's the Texas Commission on Jail Standards saying so.

In January, Smith asked the Jail Commission for "clarification" on whether Smith County could, indeed, erect some tents and solve our jail overcrowding problems for just a few hundred dollars.

"I know the answer to that," Smith said at the time. "They've told me time and time again that tents aren't an option. But I decided it was time to get something on the record. And they responded immediately."

Adan Munoz Jr., executive director of the agency, cited state law in his letter to Smith. The county could only turn to a temporary solution if a permanent solution was in the works.

"Prior to the Commission on Jail Standards approving tents for the temporary housing of inmates, the county must submit a plan providing for long-term solutions and time frames for implementation," Munoz wrote. "At this time, Smith County has not submitted plans for review or embarked on a building program which would provide for long-term solution to the existing problem."

But there's an even more pressing reason than that, he added.

"Smith County currently operates adequate space for the number of minimum-custody inmates held at your facilities," Munoz wrote. "Minimum-custody inmates are the only inmates that could be assigned to the tents for temporary housing."

But Smith County needs medium- and maximum-security jail beds. So if Smith County pitched tents, "the result would be unoccupied tents," according to Munoz.

In other words, we'd still be shipping inmates to other counties.

Letter writers often cite the example of Sheriff Joe Arpaio, who runs a "tent city" in Maricopa County (Phoenix), Ariz. He's also known for feeding his prisoners bologna sandwiches, cladding them in pink underwear and putting them on chain gangs.

The problems Arpaio faces for his policies get less publicity.

But currently, there's a federal investigation into conditions and treatment of inmates in Arpaio's jail.

And there are consequences of Arpaio's policies that the county has to pay for.

"As of June 30, 2006, Arpaio has been named as a defendant in approximately 4,725 complaints in both federal and state courts," reports the Sonoran News, a conservative Arizona news weekly.

Many of the lawsuits have resulted in multi-million dollar judgments.

"Lawsuits against the Maricopa County Sheriff's Office during Sheriff Joe Arpaio's tenure have cost taxpayers more than $13.7 million," the Associated Press reported in 2003.

"They sue me for everything around here, and I don't even have any input in it," Arpaio responded.

Arpaio has argued that the county doesn't pay a dime, since it's insured, but the county's insurance carrier reportedly raised its deductible from $1 million to $5 million.

But at this point, arguments against Arpaio's practices are moot. They don't matter. They aren't a part of Smith County's jail debate because tents simply aren't an option here.

Early voting in the Nov. 6 jail bond and constitutional amendments election begins Oct. 22.


Early Returns is the political observations column of staff writer Roy Maynard, who can be reached at 903-596-6291 or at roymaynardtmt@gmail.com.

Roy Maynard
()