Smooth's other attorney, Hartfield, a federal public defender who argued on his behalf at sentencing, said that her client didn't deserve the three-decade term sought by prosecutors, instead asking for 20 years. Though she doesn't want to discuss the case while it's on appeal, she notes in court papers that her client was trying to turn his life around. She calls him an "addict, one whose craving for a drug is so strong that he continues to sell to support his habit, heedless of the consequences."
Hartfield also pointed to the disparity between crack and powder cocaine sentences, arguing that the laws discriminate against African-Americans such as Stith, who, while he's used and sold powder in the past, was federally charged with holding and distributing crack. The Anti-Drug Abuse Act of 1986 set longer penalties for trafficking in crack than in powder, a disparity that critics say comes down hardest on blacks. (A U.S. Sentencing Commission study found that 82 percent of convicted crack offenders are African-American, while 72 percent of more lightly punished powder-cocaine offenders were white or Hispanic).
Peter Ryan
Related Content
More About
On that issue, prosecutor Colasurdo agrees. "Is there a disparity? Yes," he says. (In 2007 the U.S. Supreme Court ruled that judges can consider the unevenness of the laws when passing sentences; there are also reform efforts in Congress to balance crack and powder penalties). But the longer potential sentence had as much to do with Smooth's criminal history and attitude, says Colasurdo. "The case involved more than 50 grams, and he had more than two priors. By law, that allowed us to go forward with the penalty enhancement. He was never willing to cooperate, never settle, or accept what he did was wrong. Our responsibility is to protect the community."
Colasurdo says prosecutors could have gone for additional time—a mandatory life term, in fact—but chose not to. The U.S. actually threatened to seek life as part of its plea-bargaining with Smooth, but later withdrew the motion.
On January 12, U.S. District Court Judge James L. Robart sentenced Smooth to federal prison for 24 years, with 10 years supervised release if and when he gets out. On the bench, Robart called Smooth's record "remarkable."
Still, notching his 112th conviction, Smooth got a couple final breaks. The two pending county drug charges from 2006 have been dropped now that's he's off to a federal pen. The federal court also gave him credit for the time he served awaiting trial. And his case isn't over yet: His public defender is pursuing a reversal or a reduced sentence through the appellate courts.
Colasurdo hopes Smooth gets drug-abuse treatment in prison, if he's amenable. "If not," Colasurdo says, "those services should be reserved for those that are ready and willing to put forth the effort."
Counting time for good behavior Smooth could earn while locked up, the Federal Bureau of Prisons projects his release date to be July 30, 2028, a month before his 59th birthday. That may not be life, but it will be a late start on having one.
randerson@seattleweekly.com