DA George Gascón struggles to deliver on sentencing reforms

Barry Hawes cuts a fierce figure, all lean muscle and sharp angles built off the frame he developed as a wide receiver on his high school football team. But when Hawes was sent to prison at age 16 for his connection to a fatal shooting, he was still a boy among men.

Over the next 17 years of his 25-year sentence, he said, he was stabbed and suffered multiple broken bones while fighting for survival behind bars.

Hawes maintains his innocence. But charged as an adult and facing life in prison on a charge of felony murder, he took a plea deal at the urging of his family. He recalled his father’s words: “I’d rather you take 25 years and have a [release] date, or you have life and now you never come home.”

In the years since, another witness has come forward to identify a different man as the shooter. And changes in California law would make it nearly impossible for Hawes to be tried as an adult now. So, the 34-year-old considered himself an ideal candidate to have time shaved off his prison sentence under reforms promised by Los Angeles County Dist. Atty. George Gascón.

On his first day in office in 2020, Gascón unveiled a list of seismic policy shifts including the creation of a re-sentencing unit that he said could reduce the terms of up to 30,000 people sent to California prisons by L.A. prosecutors under what he called outdated sentencing models. But as of mid-July, only 95 people have actually been re-sentenced by the unit he formed, according to data provided to The Times in response to a public records request.

While Hawes has been released from prison under another program, his was among the dozens of cases denied or left pending by Gascón’s dedicated re-sentencing unit during its first two and a half years of operation. Gascón has said he wants to re-evaluate the cases of many defendants similar to Hawes who have served more than 15 years in prison, been tried as adults for crimes committed under the age of 17, or seen their sentences greatly increased by so-called “enhancements,” which add punishment for alleged gang affiliation and other factors.

While Gascón’s attempts to provide post-conviction relief are still a major improvement over the prior administration, the slow pace has drawn a mix of frustration and criticism from defense attorneys and reform advocates who expected more from the so-called “godfather of progressive prosecutors.”

Some have expressed concern that constant discord in the office, including two failed recall attempts, has made staff hesitant to take action.

“They’re worried about having their names on briefs when someone is released,” Michael Romano, chair of Gov. Gavin Newsom’s committee on revising the penal code and a former adviser to Gascón, said of some prosecutors in Gascón’s re-sentencing unit. “They’re very concerned about recidivism.”

Despite Gascón’s comments about thousands of people needing to be re-sentenced, the unit is still working off an initial list of 400 cases it was asked to review. Of those cases, prosecutors have only sought re-sentencing in 162, according to the records provided to The Times. The unit declined to pursue an additional 122 cases, and roughly 100 are still awaiting a decision by the re-sentencing unit or a judge.

Barry Hawes’ attorneys Victoria Don, left, and Bess Stiffelman.

(Francine Orr / Los Angeles Times)

Of the 95 defendants who have been re-sentenced, many were serving 25 years or longer for burglary, robbery, or being a felon in possession of a gun, records show, with sentencing enhancements often adding significant time to their prison terms. The use of enhancements, which data shows disproportionately impact Black and Latino defendants, is sometimes criticized as a relic of 1990s “tough on crime” policing and is often blamed for the state’s massive prison overcrowding issues.

Tiffiny Blacknell, a spokesperson for Gascón’s office, defended the re-sentencing initiative and said the number of people who’ve benefited is “greatly multiplied” if expanded to include the work of other units in the office. She pointed to cases where defendants were released for medical reasons, death penalty cases that were reduced to life without parole, and others impacted by the office’s use of California’s prosecutor-initiated re-sentencing law, which took effect in 2019.

Blacknell said the office re-sentenced 207 defendants under that law — a figure they say far outpaced other large counties in California — but did not provide exact figures for other forms of re-sentencing.

Blacknell also said “it took a number of months” to get the unit up and running during Gascón’s tumultuous transition to power in the office, a period marked by lawsuits and public rancor from many of his own prosecutors.

Another factor is the broader staffing crunch in the L.A. County court system. The district attorney’s office had only 808 prosecutors as of mid-June, its smallest roster in decades. The re-sentencing unit has only three full-time deputy district attorneys at the moment, according to Blacknell.

While reform advocates and attorneys have lauded Gascón’s intent, they say his understaffed and slow-moving unit has failed to aid anywhere near the number of defendants that it could, rejecting Hawes and others who seemingly meet the criteria.

Frustrated with the system

Hawes said he was selling drugs by age 15 and “running the streets” of the Antelope Valley community where he grew up. In 2005, one of his older customers let Hawes borrow his car. Hawes was pulled over for driving without a license after buying a necklace as a Valentine’s Day present for his then-girlfriend, and police returned the car to its owner, Darryl Watkins, with the gift inside, according to court records and Hawes.

The next day, Hawes and his friends came looking for the jewelry. A fight broke out and, according to Hawes’ attorney, another participant in the melee shot Watkins.

“I was shocked. I was upset. I yelled out ‘Why the f— did you shoot him for?’” Hawes said of the moment Watkins fell dead.

Hawes was charged with felony murder because he was involved in the fight that led to the shooting, a crime he could not be charged with today under changes to California law. According to Hawes’ attorney, Bess Stiffelman, prosecutors had no direct evidence that her client killed Watkins at the time of his arrest. Eighteen months later, Los Angeles County sheriff’s investigators produced a witness who said Hawes was the killer. The witness’ brother was also a suspect in the case, and Stiffelman noted that the belated identification of Hawes shifted the blame.

The lone witness was never cross-examined, according to Stiffelman, who said the thinness of the case was one of many factors that made Hawes a candidate for re-sentencing.

His name appeared on the list of 400 cases for sentencing review , records show, but it was rejected.

The experience left Hawes frustrated with the system.

“I gave up a few times,” he said. “They took 25 years [from me]. What more can they do?”

Stiffelman and other defense attorneys who have had cases rejected by the re-sentencing unit said prosecutors are afraid to take action.

“Even people that were committed to doing this work are going to be fearful of political backlash,” Stiffelman said. “It’s much easier to deny someone than to grant it.”

Stiffelman said the unit rejected Hawes’ bid for re-sentencing, in part, because his probation report erroneously claimed Hawes had been accused of assaulting a child. It was a case of mistaken identity — Hawes was never arrested or charged in that case, she said.

Blacknell contended that error did not play a significant role in the unit’s decision. Instead, she said, Hawes’ conduct in prison and the fact that an eyewitness accused him of firing the gun made him unsuitable for re-sentencing. Blacknell also said the unit is meant to prioritize inmates serving long sentences for “non-serious, non-violent, non-sex offenses” who are over the age of 50 “because those individuals are generally believed to be less likely to recidivate,” as well as juveniles charged as adults who would not be today.

In practice, lawyers who handle post-conviction cases say Gascón is only going after “low-hanging fruit” by focusing on nonviolent offenders, leaving others in need of relief out in the cold. Defense attorney Andy Stein remembers getting dozens of phone calls around the time of Gascón’s inauguration from people facing the kinds of lengthy sentences that the district attorney’s policies were meant to help. But he said he’s only been able to aid a few.

“I think the public has a total misconception of what’s going on,” Stein said. “He’s not letting tons of people out, he’s letting hardly anybody out … the road to hell is paved with good intentions. He’s under-equipped, under-funded.”

While appreciative of Gascón’s efforts overall, Hawes ended up serving an additional 18 months in prison because the re-sentencing unit passed him over. He said the added time was a final jab on a trip through the criminal justice system that has left him battered and bruised.

“The only thing that’s in here is violence and I refused to fall victim to it,” Hawes said. “I had to match aggression with aggression.”

Records provided by Stiffelman show Hawes was served with eight disciplinary violations while in prison, five of which were for fighting. The most recent allegation of violence took place in 2017.

To get by, Hawes said he tried to fill up his days with activities. Bible courses. Anger management. He returned to sports during yard time, trying to measure his sentence in pick-up games instead of years.

“I did every program in any prison I went to, whatever they had to offer,” he said.“I was just always learning, always kept myself busy. I always worked out or played basketball … as long as I get on the court nothing else matters. It’s just about winning this game, just day to day trying to escape my own head.”

No resources, no prospects

Among the re-sentencing unit’s success stories is Johnny Guevara, who knows Hawes’ desperation well.

In 1998, when he was just 15, Guevara pleaded guilty to kidnapping and carjacking in a plea deal that sent him to prison for life with the possibility of parole, records show. His co-defendant, who turned himself in without telling Guevara, was tried as a juvenile and sentenced to just four years in prison for the same conduct.

The pair had run up behind two brothers at an ATM in La Puente and forced them into their car using replica guns, court records show. They robbed them and ordered the victims to drive to a warehouse, where they bound them with duct tape and left, according to court records. Neither victim was physically injured and the proceeds of the robbery were $40, court records show.

Guevara said he still feels awful about what he did, but can’t believe he was sent to prison for life over a crime he committed as a teen.

“In no way am I minimizing the impact that I’ve had on their lives,” he said. “To this day, for all I know, they’re still looking behind their back when they’re driving around late at night.”

After banging his head against a wall in parole hearings for decades, however, Guevara was released from prison due to the efforts of Gascón’s re-sentencing unit.

Christopher Hawthorne, director of the Juvenile Innocence and Fair Sentencing Clinic at Loyola Law School in Los Angeles and Guevara’s attorney, said the case highlights the successes and importance of Gascón’s program, even if he wished it would move faster. But he also said the unit has “under-delivered,” in part due to fears about how former inmates will adjust to life after prison.

“I certainly understand their caution,” Hawthorne said. “No one wants someone to get out having no resources, having no prospects and having a bad experience or a crack up.”

Barry Hawes with his attorneys Victoria Don, left, and Bess Stiffelman.

(Francine Orr / Los Angeles Times)

Hawes was eventually released last July under a change in the law that impacts defendants convicted of felony murder, after a lawyer in a different unit in the district attorney’s office agreed that there was not enough evidence to prove he shot Watkins.

Luckily, Hawes has come home to a strong support network. He’s splitting his time between Lancaster and Los Angeles while working for his father’s trucking company.

“Life is good, I’m in the best place,” he said.“I’m peaceful. I’m getting along with my family. I skip through work having fun.”

But he still hopes the re-sentencing unit moves quicker in the future. He knows many people with similar stories to his, and they still wake up in a cell every morning.

Times staff writer Keri Blakinger contributed to this report.