'Babbling idiot' standard: Squeaky Fromme competency tapes unveiled

Who of my generation can forget Lynnette "Squeaky" Fromme, the first woman to attempt to assassinate a U.S. president?

Today, almost 40 years after Fromme donned a flowing red robe, strapped on a Colt .45, and went in search of President Gerald Ford, the Sacramento Bee has unveiled the full audiotapes of her 90-minute competency examination, which the court released in response to a legal request from the Bee.

Fromme's Sept. 5, 1975 mission remains a little fuzzy: Her goal was either to save the coastal redwoods or to call attention to the plight of her messiah, cult leader Charles Manson. Ford wasn't in much danger, as it turned out: There was no bullet in the chamber. She later said she had deliberatedly ejected the round in the chamber before leaving home.* And as soon as she pointed her pistol at Ford's stomach, Secret Service agents easily subdued her.

"I stood up and waved a gun (at Ford) for a reason," Fromme told a reporter a few years later. "I was so relieved not to have to shoot it, but, in truth, I came to get life. Not just my life but clean air, healthy water and respect for creatures and creation."

People who knew Fromme (pronounced Frahm-mee) considered her strange. But she rejected an insanity defense, and sought to represent herself, prompting Judge Tom MacBride to order a competency evaluation. A court-appointed psychiatrist, James Richmond, certified her as competent to stand trial after a 90-minute examination that was tape recorded at her request. 

Under the legal standard at the time, one had to be nearly "a babbling idiot" to be found incompetent, in the words of the prosecuting attorney.  

Fromme subsequently threw an apple at that very same U.S. Attorney, Dwayne Keys, when at her sentencing hearing he called for the severest punishment, saying she was "full of hate and violence."

"Nolan Ryan couldn't have thrown a more perfect strike," John Virga, the attorney ultimately appointed to represent her at trial, told a journalist some 30 years later. "Hit Dwayne right between the eyes. His glasses flew off. After that, guys in (Keyes') office started giving him a box of apples for Christmas." 

Richmond, the court-appointed psychiatrist, had no problem with the "babbling idiot" standard. He said such a low standard was only fair, because "if a person is found unfit to stand trial, he can be committed to an institution for the criminally insane without being found guilty of anything."

The outcome of Fromme's trial, just two months after her arrest, was a foregone conclusion. Fromme boycotted much of the proceedings after the court declined her request to call Manson as a witness.

Looking back, Virga described his former client as "anything but crazy." "She's very bright, an intelligent, pleasant woman.When you talk with her, everything is fine until you mention Manson. Then it's like the guy who is perfectly normal until he hears 'Kokomo, Indiana.' Then he is off and running."

After being convicted of attempted murder and sentenced to life imprisonment, Fromme steadfastly declined to apply for parole. She was finally released in 2009, after serving 34 years in prison.

The outcome might have been different, had Fromme gone to trial today. Case law has raised the standards for competency to stand trial, and the standard is higher for defendants seeking to represent themselves. In 2012, following the U.S. Supreme Court's Edwards decision, California's high court ruled that even a defendant who is found competent to stand trial may be barred from self representation if mental illness prevents him or her from putting on a minimally adequate defense.

U.S. District Judge Kimberly J. Mueller released the audiotapes of Fromme's competency evaluation in response to a motion filed last November by the Sacramento Bee. Following the reasoning of the Ninth Circuit in a 1998 decision in the case of Ted Kaczysnki, the judge ruled that the public's right to know outweighed the defendant's privacy rights. 

Kudos to the Bee for making this request before it was too late. The audiotape was fast degrading, and the court had to call in a professional media salvaging company to restore it before it could even listen to it and rule on the request.

On the tapes, Dr. Richmond can be heard questioning Fromme about everything from her involvement with the Manson family to her eating habits and her religion, using the slang vernacular of the day:

Richmond: "The press has made a number of comments to the effect that you’re a rather daft broad wandering about in this world, following ill-begotten causes and so forth. How do you feel about that?"

Fromme: "I’m working through it the best way I can. I feel this trial, conducted with a little bit of dignity, would help tremendously."

Fromme sounds matter-of-fact and confident, expressing optimism about her chances of being acquitted:

"Oh, I feel, I feel definitely I have probably a 70 percent chance on the percentage scale. I don’t feel that I’ll be convicted of attempted assassination."

In hindsight, her confidence was obviously misplaced.

* * * * *

The full audiotapes are HERE. Thanks to reporter Sam Stanton for alerting me. For those who don't have time to listen to all 132 minutes, a 19-minute excerpt is HERE. A subsequent media videotape of Fromme discussing her crime is HERE. I have added Fromme's case to my RESOURCE PAGE OF COMPETENCY CASES, which now includes source documents on 10 noteworthy cases ranging from Ted Kaczynski to Mike Tyson.

*Don't confuse this with a second assassination attempt on the president just 17 days later in San Francisco. Sarah Jane Moore managed to squeeze off a wild shot before she was subdued. Another odd duck, she too was found competent to stand trial.

Piper Kerman presents 3-point plan for prison reform

It can be fortunate for the world when a middle-class person with a social conscience gets hauled off to prison.

After spending a year in a women's prison, Piper Kerman wrote the bestselling memoir Orange is the New Black, which spawned a hit Netflix series that has galvanized the public. Now, she is jet-setting around the country, raising awareness on the U.S. prison crisis among people who have given it nary a thought up until now.

Last night, San Francisco's intelligentsia came out en masse to hear the celebrity ex-prisoner at a City Arts and Lectures benefit for an innovative university program at San Quentin Prison. The venue was the splendid Nourse Theater, a newly renovated, 1,800-seat Beaux-Arts palace that had been shuttered for decades.

Kerman did not disappoint. She remained poised and affable as her interviewer, author Nancy Mullane, peppered her with a series of alternately prurient and silly questions about sex in prison, her life as a 10-year-old, and similar drivel. It was disappointing yet illuminating to see Mullane -- who should know better, given her recent interviews with ex-convicts for her book Life After Murder -- fritter away a golden opportunity. Instead of helping Kerman express her critical message, she ogled and dehumanized her guest as an exotic "other," ironically showcasing the very disrespect of ex-convicts that Kerman has dedicated herself to combating.

It was not until the informed and perceptive audience's turn to ask questions that Kerman got the air space to expound on her vision for reforming America's prisons, which are bursting at the seams with 2.4-million members of this wealthy nation's neglected underclass.

Three transformative steps we could take to restore rationality, in Kerman's view:

1. Reform draconian sentencing laws. The harms outweigh the benefits of sentences longer than five years, especially for nonviolent crimes. Reentry becomes more difficult, harming not just the prisoner but his or her family, community and larger society.


2. Provide adequate defense services. If everyone was afforded access to zealous representation, a far smaller proportion would end up in prison. Public defender offices throughout the nation are stretched too thin, leading to unjust outcomes for the poor.


3. Stop criminalizing children. Paying attention to at-risk children and adolescents makes more sense than waiting until they have become hardened criminals and then warehousing them. And, stressed Kerman, children should never, ever be sent to adult prisons. 

A perfect agenda.

Taylor Schilling plays "Piper Chapman" in the TV series

(Of course, it assumes a degree of rationality that is absent from contemporary U.S. policies, and it is also at odds with the massive privatization movement that relies on prisoner bodies for its profits.)

Kerman also answered a couple of questions that I had been curious about, including her motivation for writing the book, and what she thought of the TV show that radically distorts her memoir.

Kerman said she is not disturbed by the liberties taken by Jenji Kohan in writing the Netflix adaptation. Going to prison is an introspective experience that can only be captured in writing, whereas a TV drama relies on interpersonal conflict to keep its audience's attention, explained Kerman, herself a theater major in college.

From Season Two, premiering June 6

In her memoir, Kerman projects herself as a typical privileged person. The young Smith College graduate fell into a relationship with an older woman who turned out to be a drug smuggler, and ended up smuggling a suitcase full of drug money across international borders. Years later, a federal indictment was handed down, and she landed in federal prison, an awkward setting for a young middle-class woman, and most especially a blonde.  

But the story she revealed last night was a bit more nuanced, and helps to explain how she ended up in her present role as a voice for justice. She was raised in a progressive, feminist household, with two teachers for parents. This likely equipped her both to get along well and make connections in prison, as she did, and to be outraged and galvanized by the inequities she witnessed.

She wrote her memoir neither as an exercise in catharsis (she didn't even keep a journal in prison, she confessed) nor to share with other prisoners and ex-prisoners (although she is happy that many of them can relate), but with the aim of reaching a mainstream audience heretofore ignorant of prison realities.

In that, she has undoubtedly succeeded beyond her wildest expectations.

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Thanks to Lorelei for providing helpful feedback. For more background, and my reaction to the book and TV series, see my Jan. 20 post, Orange is the New Black – Read the Book!

(c) Copyright Karen Franklin 2014 - All rights reserved

Orange is the New Black -- Read the book!

Taylor Schilling plays Piper Kerman in the TV series

Hollywood prison scenes are so revolting. Most revolting are the depictions of women’s prisons. They superimpose onto female prisoners the worst stereotype of male prisoners as hulking, sexually aggressive brutes. And, even more so than for male prisons, the public has little direct information to counter this distorted image.

Blasting apart this image is Piper Kerman’s outstanding memoir. Detailing her year in a minimum-security federal camp, Orange is the New Black is a first-rate effort to educate the public about the realities of women’s prison.

Promo for blockbuster Netflix spinoff

Kerman tiptoed into prison with the trepidation one might expect of a white, college-educated woman thrown into the lion’s den. But instead of prisoner-on-prisoner predation, she found a sense of community, where women survived by forging family-like relationships among their “tribes.” The greatest dangers in prison came not at the hands of other women, Kerman found, but from the agents of bureaucracy who wielded the threat of the SHU* (Security Housing Unit) or loss of good-time credits for any petty misstep.

I found myself grateful that, once in a blue moon, a middle-class person with a social conscience is sent to prison. Kerman’s bad luck is the public’s fortune. With the overwhelming mass of prisoners voiceless, who else can speak the truth and be heard? Kerman is the everywoman; through recognizing ourselves in her, we feel the prisoner’s plight as our own.

Her sense of not belonging among the underclass was shared by correctional officers and prisoners alike, who more than once asked the blond-haired, blue-eyed Smith College graduate: “What’s someone like you doing in a place like this?!”

Laverne Cox as trans prisoner Sophia Burset

Don’t think that if you’ve seen the blockbuster TV spinoff, you know the story. While colorful, the series is by comparison shallow and exploitive. Netflix does a public service by counteracting Hollywood’s crude stereotypes, portraying incarcerated women as diverse human beings, but the semi-fictional show’s biggest accomplishment may be to steer intelligent viewers toward the book. (As an aside, it has also given greater visibility to the issues of transgender women of color, with trans actress Laverne Cox outstanding in the role of a transwoman prisoner.)

For a real-life visual representation of the lot of the woman prisoner, I recommend the documentary Crime After Crime. The story of battered woman Debbie Peagler’s struggle for justice is far more heart-wrenching than Kerman’s memoir, but both dramatize how a soulless bureaucratic machine chews up and spits out human potential.

The real-life Piper Kerman

Kerman is a fluid story-teller, and her saga is intrinsically gripping. But, as writer Mary Karr points out in a recent interview, the "through-line" of an effective memoir is the character’s transformation. Seeing herself through the eyes of other women in the bleak prison milieu, Kerman realizes virtues in herself that she never knew. And she confronts for the first time her own complicity in her comrades' oppression, through her former role as an international heroin smuggler.

The sincerity of Kerman’s transformation is evident in her life since leaving prison nine years ago. She serves on the board of the non-profit prison reform group Women’s Prison Association and does public education on the plight of women prisoners -- especially the two-thirds who are mothers -- through influential media outlets such as National Public Radio. As she writes in a recent op-ed in the New York Times:  

"Harshly punitive drug laws and diminishing community mental health resources have landed many women in prison who simply do not belong there, often for shockingly long sentences. What is priceless about JusticeHome, however, is that it is working not only to rehabilitate women but to keep families together -- which we know is an effective way to reduce crime and to stop a cycle that can condemn entire families to the penal system."

* * * * *

*I listened to the audiobook version. The reader was quite good. Her only false steps came in reading the word "SHU": She read it aloud as "S-H-U," instead of the way it is actually pronounced in prison ("shoe"). The SHU is too ubiquitous to merit three syllables at every utterance.

(c) Copyright Karen Franklin 2014 - All rights reserved