Parris N. Glendening Lt. Gov. Kathleen Kennedy Townsend, pictured with Gov. Parris N. Glendening, has tried to define a centrist approach to crime policy. (By Bill O'Leary – The Washington Post) Post Stories • Campaign Turns Negative • Glendening Calls on Party • Rematch of '94 Set • Curry Still Won't Back Governor • Proving Power of Incumbency • Analysis: Parris Still a Puzzle • A Forceful Reelection Bid • Former Ally Now Against Him

By Philip P. Pan
Washington Post Staff Writer
Thursday, October 8, 1998; Page B1

Last in a series

It was the kind of program that Maryland officials were sure Lt. Gov. Kathleen Kennedy Townsend would appreciate.

A small group of teenagers at the state's largest juvenile detention facility had been put to work repairing cars and trucks under the tutelage of mechanics at the State Highway Administration. The youths would graduate with job skills and an appreciation for the value of work, and some would even be hired by the state.

But when pleased juvenile justice officials touted the program to Townsend (D) last year, she zeroed in on one detail: The teenagers were being paid $4 an hour – and that wouldn't do.

Over the strenuous objections of those who ran the program, Townsend required the juveniles – most of whom were poor and from broken homes – to use their wages to pay restitution to their victims, to make child support payments or to make "donations" to the state's victims assistance fund.

The episode is emblematic of Townsend's attempt to define a centrist, "New Democrat" approach to crime policy, one that emphasizes victims and communities as well as offenders, punishment as well as prevention. It also illustrates how thoroughly she has been able to use her position to pursue that agenda in Maryland.

Lieutenant governors for the most part have been minor figures in modern Maryland history, as often as not relegated to ceremonial duties by governors with little interest in sharing power. But breaking with the past, Gov. Parris N. Glendening (D) has granted Townsend remarkable authority over state policies in an area of intense public concern: crime.

On the Record Sauerbrey, Glendening face each other a second time. (File Photo) Interview Transcripts The two candidates were interviewed this summer by Post reporters and editors. Sauerbrey and Glendening answered several questions on education police.

During the last four years, Townsend has crisscrossed the state announcing one initiative after another, introducing herself to local officials and citizens, slowly building a record in criminal justice to complement her more well-known identity as the eldest daughter of Robert F. Kennedy.

She designed the administration's "Hot Spots" program to focus resources on high-crime neighborhoods. She sent probation agents out of their offices and into communities and schools. She opened two youth "boot camps" and sought to revamp the juvenile justice system. And she helped Glendening secure passage of one of the strictest gun-control laws in the nation.

This fall, against the advice of some who fear she is overreaching, Townsend launched her most ambitious project yet: a system of frequent drug tests and escalating punishments designed to force 25,000 probationers to stay in drug treatment – and fundamentally change how the justice system deals with drug offenders.

Her critics say the result has been more flash than substance, arguing that Townsend and Glendening have only tinkered with the state's criminal justice system and failed to implement the wholesale reform that is needed. For example, they say the administration has done little to establish truth-in-sentencing standards – by which criminals serve their full sentences – or overhaul a juvenile justice bureaucracy in crisis.

"I think the lieutenant governor's proposals have been well-meaning and well-intentioned, but I think she's missing the boat," said former U.S. attorney Richard D. Bennett, the Republican candidate for lieutenant governor. "They've used a band-aid approach to a far more fundamental problem."

But other Republicans give Townsend's approach high marks. "I have to say the programs we're talking about are not fluff," said Howard County State's Attorney Marna McLendon. "There's an awful lot of innovation occurring, and I'm thrilled to see it."

For her part, Townsend said the administration has made "great strides" in reforming the juvenile justice system, all but eliminated parole for criminals serving life sentences and sharply reduced parole for other violent offenders. In addition, she said, a commission is already studying how to implement truth-in-sentencing and is expected to issue its recommendations this winter.

She noted that her programs have won praise from a broad spectrum of police officials, prosecutors and victims' rights and domestic violence activists.

"People in the law enforcement community are not ideological. They want results. They understand we need a balanced approach to crime," Townsend said recently. "Yes, we need to be tough. Yes, we need punishment. Yes, we need to make sure vicious criminals are put away. We also need prevention. We need after-school programs. We need community police and probation officers. . . . We need to be smart about fighting crime, and people understand that."

The initiative that perhaps best illustrates the Glendening-Townsend approach to crime-fighting is the Hot Spots program, which targets federal and state resources on 36 high-crime neighborhoods across Maryland, including six in Baltimore and at least one in every county. The program is funded out of existing resources, including $3.5 million in annual state grants that previously had been distributed in a less coordinated manner.

The theory of Hot Spots is simple: Because researchers have found that 50 percent of crime occurs in just 3 percent of locations, resources from a variety of agencies – not just police – should be focused on those communities.

For example, in Mount Rainier, one of four Prince George's County communities targeted as hot spots, state probation agents have been assigned to work with police officers to make sure offenders are complying with the terms of their release. State grants are funding an after-school and mentoring program at a local community center. And town officials are working to improve lighting in certain areas and pressuring landlords to improve their property and seek more stable tenants.

"Any time you drop resources into an area like this, it's going to make a difference. The community is more involved and the perception of crime is down," said John Thompson, Mount Rainier's police chief. "I spoke to one lady the other day, and she told me that for the first time at the end of the summer, she felt she could sit on her front porch."

At each hot spot, probation agents and police officers work in teams to keep tabs on parolees, often with surprise home visits. The state also has provided grants for "community mobilization" programs such as citizen patrols, neighborhood cleanups and even block parties.

But local officials in hot spots have designed different strategies for their neighborhoods. In Baltimore, for example, state money has been used to hire prosecutors who focus on enforcing codes and shutting down crack houses. In Oxon Hill and elsewhere, juvenile probation agents have been assigned to work in schools. In Waldorf's Smallwood Village neighborhood, police officers have worked with residents to clean up and patrol bicycle paths.

Some Republicans dismiss the Hot Spots program as a political gimmick designed to win votes. "I think she has tried to identify herself in that area, but I don't think people see it as sincere," said Del. Phillip D. Bissett (Anne Arundel), the senior Republican on the House Judiciary Committee. "She's been handed the football, but she doesn't know exactly which way to run."

But the program has won over many skeptics, including Republicans and community leaders long accustomed to neglect. The Maryland State Teachers Association, which initially resisted a plan to put probation agents in schools, now embraces it. Probation agents who were frustrated by immense caseloads now say they feel they've embarked on a second career.

"I can honestly say that before now, I've never seen so many resources coming into the community to help us combat drugs and crime and all the illegal activities," said Jean Yahudah, a community organizer in a southwest Baltimore hot spot. "When I talk to residents, they realize this is the first opportunity they've had in years to make a difference."

Crime in Maryland edged up during Glendening's first year in office, but it began falling after that and dropped faster than the national average last year. Researchers say it's too soon to link any of Townsend's programs to the decline, but Glendening is already counting on those policies to blunt Republican candidate Ellen R. Sauerbrey's claim that he has been soft on crime.

Indeed, Townsend is featured prominently in his campaign ads, and it is a sign of both her popularity and Glendening's confidence in her that the campaign has aggressively sought to present them as a team. But if Townsend and her centrist crime policies are now considered political assets, that has not always been the case.

When Glendening tapped Townsend to be his running mate four years ago, she was a low-level bureaucrat in the U.S. Justice Department and a minor figure in state politics at best. She had run for office only once, an attempt in 1986 to unseat Republican Helen Delich Bentley from her suburban Baltimore congressional seat. As the first Kennedy woman to seek elected office, she received national attention – but lost badly.

Eight years later, when she was sworn in as lieutenant governor, the state's political establishment continued to regard her as an inexperienced outsider and a weak public speaker, someone who was in office strictly because of the Kennedy name and its fund-raising draw. Few expected her to do much with a job that one pol described as "a good place to go to retire from politics."

"I didn't know Kathleen, and I just sort of figured she would be the same as all the rest. I didn't have much faith that we would get anywhere on crime," said state Sen. Walter M. Baker (D-Cecil), chairman of the Judicial Proceedings Committee. "But no, she's been very active. . . . I have to say I've been converted."

With Townsend's prodding, Glendening has pursued some policies typically associated with more conservative politicians: He all but eliminated parole for criminals serving life sentences, built or started work on 4,441 prison and jail spaces, supported the death penalty and used it once, and brought the state police force to a strength of 1,615 by hiring 252 new troopers.

At the same time, Glendening appealed to liberals by expanding the use of alternatives to prison such as day reporting and home detention, quadrupling spending on after-school programs and boosting funding for other social programs.

But the heart of the administration's anti-crime strategy lies in programs, like Hot Spots, that don't fit neatly into left-right categories – programs that most bear Townsend's influence: a crackdown on gun trafficking; frequent drug testing for drug offenders; victim sensitivity classes for juveniles; the nation's first 311 nonemergency police line in Baltimore; a Police Corps program that trains college students to work as police officers in exchange for loan relief; and expanded use of probation agents who make home visits or are stationed in schools.

"The old left was always worried about protecting the rights of perpetrators, and the right only cared about severe punishment," said Al From, director of the Democratic Leadership Council, the centrist party think tank. "So for years, we were clobbered on that issue. What the New Democrats did was modernize the approach, and Kathleen has really been a leader on that."

Criminologists credit Townsend for avoiding the traditional answers to crime in favor of a problem-solving, research-based approach to the issue. "She has basically sought to put in practice all the things we've been talking about for years but that politicians seldom have taken the political risk to put in place," said Faye Taxman, a criminologist at the University of Maryland.

But by avoiding the traditional answers, Townsend also has drawn criticism from both the left and the right, particularly for her record in reforming the state's juvenile justice system.

Republicans say Townsend has not done enough to make the system punish juvenile offenders and is letting youths get away with crimes several times before they are ever sanctioned. At the same time, children's advocates say the system is already too harsh, and they criticize Townsend for making it easier to prosecute juveniles as adults and for opening up juvenile court proceedings to the public.

Both sides agree that the system is overwhelmed and that juveniles are waiting too long to be prosecuted or placed in programs.

If anything, Townsend tends to side with the Republicans in this debate. She does not apologize for opening the courts to public scrutiny or for the increase in juveniles charged as adults. Instead, she worries whether they are being treated severely enough in the adult system and acknowledges that the state needs to do more to improve the juvenile system.

At the same time, she insists the administration has already given the system a new emphasis on public safety and accountability. Juveniles are 60 percent more likely than they were four years ago to receive some type of punishment, she said, and the state has dramatically increased electronic detention and probation for offenders.

"The system has operated under a philosophy of treating kids for almost a hundred years. We're changing that, and that's not going to happen overnight," she said. "But this is not a social service agency anymore."