Meet Washington's DUI King

The case files describe him, at times, as something of a garbage-talking bobblehead drunk. Unlicensed and uninsured, he likes to weave down the highways with a trusty container of Aftershock cinnamon schnapps at his side. The cops can chase, ram, and Taser him, and the courts can give him the max—but will anything get the DUI king to walk home from the bar? By the look of things, if Bob Castle's going to hit the bricks, it will likely be with the fender of his car.

"He once told me he doesn't have a drinking problem, he has a driving problem," says Robyn King, who has known Castle 30 years.

Some of this was undoubtedly playing on the mind of Seattle Municipal Court Judge George Holifield on the day in 1994 when he handed down a sentence as stiff as Robert Lewis Castle's last drink: One year in jail for drunk driving, the judge told the ruddy-faced, then-38-year-old Lynnwood construction worker, sometime marijuana grower, and convicted felon. For good measure, Holifield threw in 90 days for driving without a license, added $6,000 in fines, and, before signing the sentencing sheet in front of him, wrote in even more conditions and comments, such as: "No work release, no home detention—many DUI convictions."

Castle, short and thin with a jutting chin and biting stare, waited quietly as his public defender continued to plead for a suspended sentence and alcoholism treatment.

"Let me put it to you up front," the judge responded. "Even if you were to provide me information that the defendant was a saint, I wouldn't let him out of jail." In his 15 years as a judge, Holifield said, he'd never seen a jury come back so quickly with a guilty verdict as in this case. Castle needed to get the message. "And the reason it's punishment is he's had six or seven different times to correct this problem. Or at least if he's going to have a drinking problem, not drive. That was his alternative. The only thing we can do is to keep him off the roads for as much time as we can."

From 1985 to 1994, on some of the many nights both he and his car were gassed up, Castle was arrested seven times in three counties for driving under the influence of alcohol. He was convicted five times, with two charges pled down to reckless driving and physical control of a car while intoxicated. He had a roster of other traffic offenses, some of them alcohol-related, such as driving with an open liquor container, and was adjudged a habitual traffic offender in 1992, when his license was revoked for five years, after which he simply drove without it.

In court, Holifield asked Castle how much time he'd done for his DUIs.

"At one time, 10 months," Castle answered.

"And where was that?" Holifield continued.

Castle: "That was in Seattle, King County."

Holifield: "You didn't do any time in Snohomish County though, did you?"

Castle: "Four months."

The judge asked Castle how many times he'd been in treatment.

"Just one," Castle replied.

Holifield: "Did it ever occur to you that you needed to kick your habit?"

Castle: "Yes."

Holifield: "Why didn't you do it, then?"

Castle: "Pretty hard."

"It is easier to do the time in jail?" the judge asked.

"No," replied Castle. "That's even harder."

Flash forward to the first Tuesday of last month. Here, once again, sits Robert Castle, now 51, in his jail jumpsuit. He looks up from the defense table on the 11th floor of the Seattle Municipal Court building and watches a familiar figure lumber in behind the bench.

Seated at his elevated perch, Judge Holifield scans the court, then stops and seems to shake his head when he sees Castle. Still, he couldn't be too surprised; this latest case has been before the court for 19 months, with Castle facing four charges: driving without a license, resisting arrest, refusing to stop, and—an oldie but goodie—DUI. His exact breath-alcohol-content test reading hasn't yet been entered into evidence. But he topped the legal limit of .08, prosecutors say, and fought with his arresting officers.

At least two dozen court hearings were set or held as the case dragged on from September 2006, but Castle had yet to be tried. He demanded jury trials seven times, and all were cancelled. Released from jail on personal recognizance, Castle sought delays, asked for another judge, and had "witness problems," he said. The wheels of justice never got traction, and after he changed attorneys (all public defenders) several times, Castle pulled a no-show in court. An arrest warrant was issued on Dec. 27 last year. He was arrested two days later—when stopped for his 16th DUI.

That's correct: 16. In the 14 years since Holifield tried to send that stiff message, Castle had responded with a strong kick of his own: nine additional drunk-driving charges. Since 1985, he has averaged roughly one DUI every year-and-a-half, and in six of those years got two DUIs annually. Along the way, he smashed up a variety of vehicles, destroyed property, and slightly injured himself and a few others—for example, in December, when, while being chased by the state patrol, he smashed into two cars in Northgate, shaking up their drivers. (Because his accidents have been relatively minor, Castle has never been charged with vehicular assault.)