Special report: Death's toll

Special report: Death's toll

Toya Frazier, about to suffer the violent symptoms that come with heroin withdrawal, was awaiting transfer to a prison to begin serving a 3 1/2-year sentence for retail theft.

Paul Clifton, a severe asthmatic, was locked up for violating his probation by driving on a suspended license.

Veronica Horstead, who graduated from Champaign County's drug court only to relapse, was behind bars shortly after her arrest for theft and possession of a controlled substance.

All were poor, black and died shortly after medical emergencies at the Champaign County Jail over a 193-day period, from Dec. 1 to June 10, leaving grieving family members to ask "why?"

The answers they often receive only lead to confusion and anger.

Every day, people just like Miss Frazier, 45, Mr. Clifton, 59, and Miss Horstead, 48 — with histories of drug abuse and/or serious underlying health issues — sit and wait inside the holding cells in the booking area of the county jail.

There's nowhere else for them to go. No infirmary. No detox center. No place where they can be monitored by medical staff, with IV therapy or heart and oxygen monitors — just a less-populated part of the jail where they're checked on every 12 to 15 minutes by a correctional officer.

For Sheriff Dan Walsh, these types of medical and mental health problems are a reflection of both a trend in the jail population and society as a whole, one that's grown substantially since he was elected in 2002.

"Just in that time period, our inmates have become sicker and have more mental health problems," Walsh said. "Daily, they come in here with high blood pressure, diabetes, alcohol addiction; you name the other drugs — heroin, cocaine, methamphetamine."

Walsh has pushed in vain for facility upgrades, asking the county board and its Mental Health Board for assistance; instead, he's been forced to turn the booking area of his jail into a medical wing.

The night before Walsh met with The News-Gazette for this story, nine inmates were booked into the jail with a wide variety of conditions.

Untreated anxiety and depression for one inmate. Untreated epilepsy for another. A possibly broken toe, as well as depression and anxiety. Emphysema, asthma, back pain and daily heroin use. High blood pressure and diabetes. Itching and burning in the right arm. Seizures and mental health disorders. In need of a nebulizer treatment. Anemia.

"And that's a slow night," said Capt. Karee Voges, superintendent of the jail.


Miss Frazier likely died on Dec. 1, 2015 of a heart attack caused by diphenhydramine toxicity, the coroner ruled. That drug is found in Aleve PM pills, which she is suspected to have smuggled into the jail in a cane or knee brace.

Mr. Clifton collapsed on Easter Sunday morning while in the holding area, likely from an asthma attack. He was taken to the emergency room at Carle Foundation Hospital, where he was pronounced dead that morning.

Miss Horstead suffered from congestive heart failure, likely brought on by heroin withdrawal. She was found unresponsive by a nurse during morning medication checks on June 10, a tragic end to a tumultuous final two weeks of her life.

On May 26, Miss Horstead (right) was arrested on charges of retail theft and possession of a controlled substance. But when she was taken to the jail, the staff wouldn't book her until she was given medical clearance. So she was taken to Carle, where she was admitted and stayed for another six days.

During this time, her daughter, Amber Bishop, kept checking online and calling the jail, trying to figure out why her mother still hadn't been arraigned. No one would give her any answers, she said.

Finally, on June 2, Miss Horstead called her daughter and told her where she had been. A few hours later, she was arraigned and then bonded out by Bishop.

Then, on June 6, Miss Horstead was pulled over on Louisiana Avenue in Champaign. She was reported to have been acting emotionally and erratically. When police searched her car, they found a bullet and a starter pistol, used to start track races and swim meets. Miss Horstead had seized it from her grandmother, who suffers from dementia and was threatening her with it, Bishop said, and she had forgotten it was still in her car.

Police arrested her on charges of unlawful possession of a weapon by a felon.

The jail again refused to admit her, so she was taken back to the hospital, cleared by doctors and then booked at 12:30 a.m.the next day.

Two days later, at 6:43 a.m., Miss Horstead was found unresponsive in her cell.

Around 9 a.m., Bishop got a call from her grandmother, Ruth Moore. A longtime friend had called, saying "I'm so sorry for your loss." When a confused Moore asked what she was talking about, the friend said she had heard that "Love" — Miss Horstead's nickname — "had died over there in county."

Unsure what to do, Moore called Bishop and told her to find out if it was true.

Bishop's mind raced to the phone conversation she had with her mother the day before, the last time the two would ever talk.

"She told me, 'They're not taking me to the hospital. I'm gonna have to tough it out,'" Bishop said. "She was still not where she needed to be. She needed to be somewhere she could get proper medicine."

Upset and frantic, Bishop called the jail and explained that she had heard from a friend that her mother was dead. The operator put her on hold, Bishop said, and then the line got disconnected.

Even more panicked, she called back, repeated everything to the operator and was put on hold again. Finally, Bishop was told she had heard correctly.

Veronica Horstead had been found unresponsive that morning and taken to Carle, where she was pronounced dead.

A little after noon, the coroner called to officially break the news to her.

"I found out on the street. I was not called by the county jail or the hospital," Bishop said. "By the time the coroner called, I had already known for over three hours. By the time they called to notify me, she had been taken from the hospital, and he told me they were performing an autopsy."

The funeral home came and picked up her body and told Bishop she should wait to see her mother until after it had been prepared. Because it took time to gather money for the services, Bishop didn't get to see her mother's body until the day before the funeral — 16 days after her death.

"I feel like they robbed me of some of my last goodbyes," Bishop said.


In the hours leading up to her death, Toya Frazier complained of pain caused by a heroin withdrawal. Jail documents obtained by The News-Gazette tell the story of what happened next.

Around 2 a.m. on Dec. 1, Miss Frazier began moaning to the point that she was disrupting other inmates. Her roommate, Shawn Schoonover, told law enforcement officials that Frazier was saying, "Oh Lord takes this pain, the beast, the beast, oh Lord takes this pain."

Schoonover said she had never done heroin, but she'd seen many people suffer through heroin withdrawal. She described Miss Frazier as being "dramatic" and "crazy" about her symptoms, which didn't surprise her because people often "try to play stuff" in jail to get medication or sent to the hospital.

It got to the point where Sgt. Arnold Matthews moved Miss Frazier to a cell by herself. Once alone, she kicked the door and created a commotion. Multiple inmates reported that Matthews and another staff member threatened to withhold medical attention unless she was quiet.

Jail officials said they asked Miss Frazier what was wrong, but she wouldn't answer them. Eventually, she told them she was suffering from heroin withdrawal.

Throughout the day, Miss Frazier complained of her symptoms. In a later video review of her incarceration, she was seen taking pills at least twice, including at 3:23 p.m.

At 3:50 p.m., Miss Frazier was lying on her mat when she appeared to shake and possibly have a seizure. She never moved again.

At 4:43 p.m., she was served a meal.

At 5:11 p.m., a corrections officer came by to pick up Miss Frazier's tray and noticed she hadn't touched it. The corrections officer attempted to shake her and found her unresponsive.

During this period, Miss Frazier had been checked on multiple times, but no officers reported seeing anything unusual.

Walsh said that whenever an inmate is sleeping, correction officers let them be. No inmate would want to be awakened every 15 minutes, he said, and the jail doesn't have any heart or oxygen monitors.

"If you're lying there apparently asleep, we're not gonna poke you," Walsh said.

When examining Miss Frazier's cell later, jail officials found eight Aleve PM, one Advil PM and three trazodone pills. A toxicology report later revealed she had overdosed on diphenhydramine from the Aleve PM she sneaked in. Because pills were left over, the coroner determined she was likely self-medicating before accidentally overdosing.


If anyone knows what Toya Frazier went through that day, it's Charles Davidson. The Urbana resident shared his experience with the Champaign County Board at a meeting last month.

Davidson was booked into the Champaign County Jail in 2011 and awaiting a transfer to the Illinois Department of Corrections. While being booked, he says, he warned jail officials that he'd be suffering from horrible heroin withdrawal over the next few days.

Initially, he was placed into a holding cell with eight other inmates. After growing sicker and complaining to a mental health worker, Davidson was transferred to a holding cell.

"We call it the naked house," Davidson said. Officers took all his clothes, he said, and left him without toilet paper or a bed while he experienced withdrawal symptoms, including vomiting and diarrhea.

"I was in (the jail) for seven days. I ended up doing three days in a holding cell on the floor," Davidson said. "Every time I think about it, I get emotional because I had never been done like that before. ... It was just a big mess. I stayed in that cell without any more medication, without seeing a doctor."

Davidson, a friend of both Miss Frazier's and Miss Horstead's, said the jail needs an infirmary or a facility to help with addiction.

"You're supposed to take care of the people that come to the county jail," he said.

At the same meeting, Byron Clark, a relative of Miss Frazier's, spoke on behalf of her sisters. Like Bishop, they didn't learn of Miss Frazier's death from an official source until well after receiving a call from an inmate friend.

"That's just outrageous," Clark said. "I want you to know that the pain that the family has gone through in the aftermath of this is more than you could probably imagine. If you've ever lost a loved one, I'm sure you've experienced the normal grief that goes along with that, but when you start to think about losing a loved one who has been placed in care and custody of a government entity, like the county jail, imagine that person being alone, tortured, screaming for help with none coming."

Clark, the president of the Illinois Chapter of the National Council of African-American Men, said there is a clear racial and class aspect to this story — the inmate population at the Champaign County Jail is consistently more than half black, despite African-Americans making up only 13 percent of the population.

"We know for a fact that drug addiction does not discriminate, that white people and affluent people and wealthy people use drugs at approximately the same rate, but you don't see them dying in your jail," he said. "That should tell you that, when people are dying, that as a board, you have not provided resources to make sure they stay alive.

"The people that die from these health issues, the drug addiction, cannot be reduced to these caricatures that we see in our media and throughout television. They're human beings, I know personally, Toya Frazier was one of the most beautiful people in the world, and she suffered from a disease. We need to treat it that way."


It hasn't always been like this, Voges said.

When she first started working at the jail part-time in 2002, the facility was often at or near capacity, approaching 313 inmates.

Today, the population can be half that, but the issues caused by a lack of health care services create one problem after another.

"When I first started," Voges said, "the booking area was actually used for booking."

The three deaths there were second-most of any Illinois county jail over the past year, trailing only the seven at the facility in Cook, the nation's second-most populous county. (Its 5.2-plus million people make it more than 25 times the size of Champaign County).

Champaign County's U-shaped unit has 11 cells, some solitary and some in a group. Here, it's easier to monitor individual inmates, which officers are required to do every 15 minutes. It's also the only place in the jail where inmates can be housed by themselves, so that's where they stay while suffering from withdrawal symptoms or mental health issues.

The lack of space can create problems when there are multiple inmates suffering; only after someone is determined to be fit by the jail's medical staff can they be put into the general population area.

The county pays Correct Care Solutions, a Nashville-based correctional medical services company, $559,896.66 annually to assist. In return, it gets two nurses, who work roughly 7 a.m. to 7 p.m. seven days a week; once-a-week visits from a doctor; once-every-other-week visits from a psychiatrist and 84 hours a week from mental health officials. A doctor and psychiatrist are also on call 24/7.

On top of that, Walsh estimates his department spends a little less than $100,000 on medical bills for inmates and, starting a few years ago, the jail has had employees of Community Elements, the Prairie Center and Champaign County Health Care Consumers come in and help inmates access the resources they need, be it help with a substance abuse problem or setting up a LINK card to secure benefits.

But even with a medical staff, Voges errs on the side of caution with inmates, she says. If jail staff detect any health-related questions, they'll reject inmates and make the arresting officer transport them to Carle or Presence.

When an inmate is admitted, the jail must eventually take custody, which includes 24/7 watch at the hospital, usually an overtime expense. Sometimes, there are three inmates at a time in the hospital, which means three officers are needed.

"Even with overtime, we'll run out of bodies," Walsh said.

Walsh said it's especially frustrating when inmates with mental health problems attempt suicide or try to harm someone else, then tell the hospital it was just an act of momentary depression and they're released back to the jail.

"A lot of times, they'll be out the door before our officer completes his reports," Walsh said.


County Coroner Duane Northrup said the deaths he's seeing in the jail aren't an indictment of the facility but rather reflective of what's happening outside of it.

"For two of the three, I wouldn't have been any more or any less surprised if they happened outside of the jail," he said. "I don't think it had anything to do with the jail."

Still, Walsh said the jail is "becoming the new mental health facility," something he's lobbying to change. In January 2015, he began working with the county's Mental Health Board to try to find funding for a new facility, one that could fill the gap between involuntary commitment and jail. It would be a place where people who commit no crimes or minor crimes could go to detox or get immediate mental health services.

"It kind of started to gel together. We held meetings," Walsh said.

But during a year-long state budget impasse, talks stalled, and the problem has been further compounded with cash-strapped social services seemingly getting weaker by the day in Champaign County.

"We put it all on hold," Walsh said. "But if we had a place like that for some of these people, for minor criminals or people who family could take before they fall off the railroad track, that could be helpful."

Voges said correctional officers want inmates to get better. If there were more resources available, they'd gladly use them.

"I truly get to know these people. I see them more than I see my own family," Voges said. "The officers truly care about these people. I don't want to see anyone sitting there going through withdrawals and struggling. I want them to go home to see their family, go see their children.

"But we can't always make it happen for them."


For the families of Miss Frazier, Mr. Clifton and Miss Horstead, one of the most difficult aspects of the mourning process was having their loved one's worst moments be disseminated to the public.

Media reports didn't capture the person they knew.

"Everything that was said was true, but it left out a lot," Bishop said of her mom. "She'd been through a lot of ups and downs. She made a lot of mistakes and bad choices, but that did not define who she was. She never gave up. She was always trying to turn her life around."

For family and friends, the stories they will remember would be more likely to go like this:

— Toya Frazier. Affectionately known as "Suga." A loving sister and mother to her two children. Liked to collect trinkets, especially headwraps. Always kept a bag of candy for children in her purse.

— Paul Clifton. College-educated. University of Illinois employee. A caring father and grandfather. Devoted Christian. Loved to cook, grill and garden. An animal lover and a family man.

— Veronica Horstead. Affectionately known as "Love." College-educated. A loving mother and grandmother. Always had a smile on her face. Never met a camera she didn't like.

Brittney McDonald, (left, with photos of Ms. Horstead) a family friend, was so upset about the way Miss Horstead was portrayed, she wrote a loving tribute on Facebook. It was shared 98 times.

"I just wanted people to know that she did have a period of being clean," McDonald said. "Maybe it was a brief period in the big picture, but she accomplished so many things in that time period that a lot of people don't accomplish in their entire life. She was more than just criminal charges and drug abuse."

Bishop wants people to remember all of the things her mother was able to accomplish, despite her troubles with addiction and being permanently on disability for a heart issue.

During a nine-year period in which Miss Horstead was in recovery after graduating from Champaign County's drug court program, she was able to earn degrees from Parkland College and Eastern Illinois University.

She had a daughter, who is now 6. She became closer with Bishop's four sons.

When she was involved in multiple car accidents and underwent surgery, she was prescribed pain medications, which led her back to where she had been before, her daughter says.

"She was never embarrassed. No matter what kind of bad decisions she made, she owned up to them," Bishop said. "She was so loving. Her love was so genuine. She was always trying to put a smile on the next person's face, even when she was down."

Bishop said she'll always wonder about why the hospital released her mother and why the jail didn't take her back there, but most of all, she says, "I don't want it to seem like she's just another criminal who happened to pass away while she was in custody."

With all 29 county jail deaths reported over the past year, the Illinois State Police conduct a review to make sure proper procedure was followed.

The investigation into Miss Frazier's death is the only one of the three here that is complete. As a result of it, the jail decided to buy new canes, walkers, wheelchairs and crutches.

But one month after Miss Horstead's death, three months after Mr. Clifton's death and seven months after Miss Frazier's death, friends and family wonder: What else has changed at Champaign County Jail?

"I can't think of anything else," Voges said.

Champaign County jail deaths

Since 2004, 13 inmates have died at the Champaign County Jail.

The list, including the suspected cause of death:


Joseph Beavers: Suicide

Marcus Edwards (left, with mother Suzanne Edwards): Suicide

Terrell Layfield: Suicide


William Marshall: Bilateral pulmonary embolism


Quentin Larry: Heart attack from cocaine usage


Janet Hahn: Untreated diabetes


Todd Kelly: Suicide


Jess Masengale: Suicide/hanging


Melissa Lackey: Autopsy inconclusive


Phillip A. Day: Liver disease

Toya Frazier: Unintentional overdose


Paul Clifton: Asthma attack

Veronica Horstead: Heart disease while suffering from heroin withdrawal

Note: Information from the Independent Media Center was used in compiling this list.

THE PROCESS: From intake to incarceration

What happens when an inmate is processed? Champaign County Jail Superintendent Capt. Karee Voges (right) explains:

The squad car pulls into the sally port, where the arrestee will be moved from the back seat into a small processing room, where only one inmate can be booked at a time. On a busy night, three or four squad cars might line up while waiting for inmates to be processed, which can take 20-25 minutes apiece. If someone appears to be to ill or intoxicated, they could be refused by jail staff.

Once in the booking room, a search is performed on the handcuffed inmate. The arresting officer will have already conducted a search, but a jail official will pat down the arrestee and remove any accessories, including extra layers of clothing and shoelaces. While it may seem repetitive, Voges said this has been helpful in finding knives, even guns, because officers often don't have time to do a full search in the field. Correctional officers aren't allowed to conduct strip searches until an inmate is put into general population. Cavity searches are only allowed when an officer has a warrant from a judge.

After the search, the inmate will sit in a chair across from a correctional officer while doing the intake. Just a few steps over, the arresting officer will fill out paperwork. The intake procedure includes more than 30 medical questions; correctional officers must fill this out every time, even for the so-called "frequent fliers" (people who have been jailed often).

Inmates often don't cooperate with this process, Voges said, and correctional officers frequently refuse arrestees for a variety of reasons, including being too intoxicated to function and having open wounds. In those cases, the arresting officer will take the inmate to Carle Foundation Hospital or Presence Medical Center.

After the forms are filled out, the inmate is taken into the booking area, where new inmates and ones with medical and mental health problems are kept. This is where a mug shot is taken before someone is put in a holding cell.

After the arraignment, if an inmate is going to be at the jail for a while, he or she will be strip searched, changed into jail clothing and put into a general population cell block.

Conditions 'very inadequate'

Most days, around 9 percent of the Champaign County Jail's population is made up of so-called special needs inmates — those who must be separated for medical and mental health reasons, discipline, protective custody or administrative segregation, according to a Gorski Reifsteck report on facilities that was presented to the county board last year.

The study found that "the conditions in which special needs inmates are confined within the booking areas of both facilities are very inadequate and should be remedied."

Since the report, nothing has changed.

Medical and mental health inmates are still housed in the booking area of the jail, without "ready access to day rooms, showers, telephones or TVs." There are no windows in their pods to provide natural light or spatial relief.

The health care area of the jail is also insufficient, the report found, lacking a proper waiting area and proper space for the pharmacy, offices and storage. The second exam room is currently used to house medical records.

The jail, as it is currently constructed, cannot properly house these inmates, the report said.

"It is important to note that none of the existing housing pods can be made to be suitable for the housing of special needs inmates, particularly the mentally ill and the inmates presenting serious medical issues, including the need for medical isolation," the report stated. "New space would be required to meet these needs."

Death counts

From July 1, 2015 to June 15, 2016, 29 in-custody deaths were reported to the Illinois Department of Corrections Jail and Detention Standards Unit. A county-by-county breakdown:

County Number
Cook 7
Champaign 3
St. Clair 2
Vermilion 2
Coles 1
DeKalb 1
Edgar 1
Franklin 1
Jackson 1
Kane 1
Kankakee 1
Macon 1
Marshall 1
Monroe 1
Moultrie 1
Peoria 1
Saline 1
Whiteside 1
Winnebago 1


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rsp wrote on July 10, 2016 at 10:07 am

Phillip Day died from liver disease at the age of 52 on April 1, 2015, the same year as Toya Frazier. He was poor, white, and had a history of using drugs. The fact that he was in jail on the day of his death was chance. When we have very sick people and put some of them in jail, some might die there.


Local Yocal wrote on July 10, 2016 at 12:07 pm
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Philip Day was not in jail by chance, but rather at the discretion of the arresting officer. Philip Day also told the deputy that was transporting him to the jail that he was an acute alcoholic (this is contained in the police report) and he may need medical treatment if he's to be confined. This issue falls directly on the quality of care provided at the county jail, or better yet, whether or not we need to take sick people to the county jail. Why are we prosecuting sick people?

The question before this county is what do we want to use a county jail for, and like what happens in Paul Clifton's case, very minor infractions, every single day, are blown out of proportion and we use a disproportionate response to rule infractions. We jail too much for too little. And let's be clear: a jail cell is not the method to alleviate drug addiction symptoms. 

What tragic irony it is that in the midst of this 40-year Drug War, we demand people be handcuffed and placed in jail for their drug addictions and then while insisting they be in a jail cell. provide no drug treatment other than a jail guard checking if you're awake or asleep every 15 minutes, telling you to shut up if you're too noisy. Threatening to withhold drug medication if you don't quiet down is enough to cause the County to start writing a check to the grieving families right now.

rsp wrote on July 10, 2016 at 1:07 pm

Do people get a pass on committing crime if they are sick? I'm sick. Can I go shoplifting?

I knew Phil for years. I know how he lived, what kinds of drugs he used, the crimes he did. So because he destroyed his liver using illegal drugs and drinking we should ignore the thousands of dollars he stole?

He may have died that day even if he wasn't in jail. The fact he was there hasn't been established to have been a factor.

Cause and effect. Location may have nothing to do with some of these deaths. If someone has heart failure and is on diability for it they can die at anytime. How do I know this? My mother is in heart failure. I've talked to the doctors. Does that mean she should get a pass to go commit crimes and not expect consequences? I don't think so.

Local Yocal wrote on July 10, 2016 at 1:07 pm
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Was Philip Day in jail because he stole? And so stealing in your view is sufficient reason to jail somebody. That's the kind of conversation we should be having. Does Paul Clifton driving on a suspended license sufficient reason to roust him out of bed and haul him to the jail?

Or put another way, if you commit a crime are you therefore undeserving of medical treatment?

pattsi wrote on July 10, 2016 at 2:07 pm

Let me put to rest one piece of misinformation posted here. Paul Clifton was not rousted out of bed and arrested. I have conversed with Chief Connolly about this arrested based on that statement that has been made by others and on the public record at a CB meeting. Chief Connolly was contacted because Mr. Clifton's home is in Urbana. The chief explained to me that Urbana did not make this arrest. Though Urbana has made arrests in 2012 and 2014. This alone tells me that Mr. Clifton was not dragged out of bed.

So I then called Chief Cobb to find out if the arrest was made by Champaign, Chief Cobb reported that Mr. Clifton was arrested at 12:20 A at 4th and Bradley on a Terry arrest.

Not that I do not believe either chief, I then went to the Circuit Clerk public records. Right there in the records is the record of the arrest by the Champaign police, including time, date, location. It was an excellent lesson for me how important it is to check primary source data. And in doing so, I learned that Mr. Clifton had had a long troubled past, which is very sad.

Local Yocal wrote on July 10, 2016 at 2:07 pm
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The fact remains that bench warrants (some as old as 6 months-to-a-year) for unpaid past municipal ordinance violations are being served at all hours of the morning and looking at the time of booking for these infractions, police are rousting many out of bed if not Paul Clifton. It's still problematic that we think it okay to haul somebody to jail for driving on a suspended license, an all-too-frequent occurrence. Mr. Clifton's "troubled past" does not negate he deserved proper medical attention while in custody. Were it your family member, you'd expect medical help if your loved one needs it.

rsp wrote on July 10, 2016 at 5:07 pm

Police do not have time to go door to door looking for people on OV warrants. If they see someone who they know has a warrant they are legally required to bring them in. If they stop them for any other reason and it comes up the have to take them in.

A bigger issue is are the cities, who issue these OV tickets being reasonable with the amounts and the payments they are willing to work out. I know of a case were a man was repeatedly brought in and paid between $2 and $5 each time. No indication if public serrvice work was offered instead. This is part of the problem. If this could be looked at and fixed that would be less people in jail.

It appears the practice is to issue a $1000 warrant the first time, $2000 the second, $3000 the third, etc. Doesn't matter the amount owed.

If you don't have any money, who do you go to to fix it if they person wanting the money is the one getting the warrant?

Instead of trying to fix all these pie-in-the-sky these that there's no money for, this is something we can change. Everyone involved is local. Everyone. It's just a matter of changing how we do things.

Cuthbert J. Twillie wrote on July 10, 2016 at 3:07 pm

So......... what your saying here Yodler  ( and I did miss you on the Urbana taser issue.. must have been busy cooking your crow) is that we should just ignore warrants.    Correct?


Yes or No.  there is no middle ground on this.   Should warrants be ignored.  They are COURT orders.  Judges sign them.

pattsi wrote on July 11, 2016 at 7:07 am

I have gone to the Cicuit Clerk's web site. I do not find warrants listed at the cost mentioned in the posting for first, second, or third. On the other hand within the category "fail to appear warrant," the fine about runs a $1000 and above. Maybe the original poster can clarify the suggestion.