Metropolitan News-Enterprise

Dec. 31, 1991

Page 8

PERSPECTIVES (Column)
A Year-End Look at Ricardo Torres' First Year at the Helm

By ROGER M. GRACE

Edward Koch, when mayor of New York, would stroll the streets querying those he passed: "How'm I doin'?"

At the end of the day on Tuesday, Ricardo A. Torres will be midway though his two-year stint as presiding judge of the Los Angeles Superior Court. A fitting inquiry is: how's he doing?

You're not apt to find Torres posing the question. In his eyes, there's no question as to the magnificence of his performance.

If Torres did ask for an assessment of how he's doing, he would probably garner favorable comments, sincerely uttered, from some persons who have had but glimpses of him—and from some who have seen him up close, and like his spunk. But from most of those who have observed closely, there would likely come two sorts of responses: lies from those who fear him, and denunciations from those who don't.

There is a perception on the part of many that reining over the largest trial court in the free world is a petty and spiteful autocrat whose greatest commitment is to getting his own way. He tries to govern the court as if it were a company in which he holds 100 percent of the shares. He is prone to reward those who oscillate his gluteus maximus, and to wreak vengeance on those whom he regards as defying him.

While spared the humiliation of a challenge to his gaining the traditional second term as presiding judge, he is the subject of ridicule among a number of his colleagues—and those members of the bar who have conversancy with his methods.

In all, it's been a good year for this Queeg of Hill Street, Ricardo Torres. At every turn, he's succeeded in his mission of getting his own way.

And, yet, it's been a very bad year for Ricardo Torres. His highhandedness and willfulness have shackled him with an image and reputation none would covet.

The mere thought of working with Torres caused Frank Zolin, the court's executive officer for 22 years, to flee his job. Eleven previous presiding judges had relied heavily on Zolin in light of his administrative expertise. No replacement could match that expertise—but Torres didn't really want a strong executive officer, being determined to run things his own way. Zolin's departure marked a loss for the court, but a gain for Torres. What he gained was a young "yes-sir" man from the Santa Clara Municipal Court who would not be threatening to him.

He shifted a number of staff members around. A secretary, Linda Sirk, who had worked for Zolin and been loyal to him, was quickly transferred to the Chief Administrative Office. Eric Webber, who had been Zolin's chief deputy, was kept around long enough for Zolin's replacement, James Dempsey, to be shown the ropes—then suddenly shuffled to the Chief Administrative Office when the post of chief deputy was eliminated. (At the same time, a new post of executive assistant was created.) Webber had been recommended by Zolin as his successor.

An atmosphere of fear—fear of Torres—has pervaded the court's staff. One person who wanted to deliver an announcement to our representative in the courthouse was so fearful of being suspected of slipping us secret information that she carried the sheet, unfolded, with the face of it outward, to avoid suspicion.

Torres de-Zolinized the operations to the extent of disposing of files long kept by the executive officer...on such matters as negotiations with unions, where information on past events would be of recurring relevance. It would seem to be his goal to obliterate any memory of Frank Zolin...who, by the way, is alive and well, serving as director of the Department of Motor Vehicles.

Within two hours of taking office as presiding judge on Jan. 2, Torres countermanded two actions taken by Zolin before he left the court on Dec. 31. Both actions had the imprimatur of the court's then-presiding judge, Richard Byrne.

One was to give Byrne's secretary, Elizabeth Munnerling, a "Y" rating. That would have allowed her to keep her present salary, though she would no longer be serving as a secretary to a presiding judge. (In 1990, Torres obtained, over Zolin's initial turndown, special salary consideration for his own secretary.)

The other action was to promote 25 judicial assistants and courtroom clerks to the newly created position of "senior judicial assistant," who would train new courtroom clerks. The promotions meant a 5 per cent pay hike for the recipients.

Torres gave no reasons for stripping Munnerling of her "Y" rating. His action with respect to the promotions reportedly stemmed from his opposition to the new posts being created. Also, the Personnel and Budget Committee had indicated in September that the appointments should not be made until April. (A previous batch of 23 appointments had already been made, and those appointments were not affected by Torres' maneuver.)

Presiding judges traditionally have not involved themselves in court personnel matters.

The day after Torres acted, a stunned Personnel and Budget Committee decided to ask the county counsel for an opinion on the legality of what Torres had done. An opinion came on Jan. 11. It declared that what Zolin had power to do, his successor had the power to undo. It was apparently Webber, as acting executive officer, who served as Torres' instrumentality in lowering Munnerling's pay and making the 25 demotions.

Munnerling, who reportedly put in 50 hours a week while working as Byrne's secretary, quit her county job, going to work for a law firm.

Zolin explained jumping the gun on the 25 appointments by saying that the Executive Committee had created the positions, and he felt that if he didn't fill them, Torres would see to it they did not get filled.

April came and went. The appointments weren't made. The time for filling them was postponed to Oct. 1.

At the Sept. 19 Executive Committee meeting, Torres announced that the Personnel and Budget Committee had decided to put the whole program on the back burner pending further study.

So, Torres got his way.

And a secretary who had been promised a raise was denied it, and 25 persons who had been given promotions had them snatched away.

Torres is a judge, somebody expecxged to be applying, rather than defying, concepts like due process and fundamental fairness.

Last year, while assistant presiding judge, Torres decided that upon assuming the top spot on the court, he would simply have to have offices with lushness commensurate with his importance. He had the staff prepare drawings and cost estimates for redecorating the Executive Suites on the second floor of the Central Courthouse. All this was done without Zolin knowing about it—which is noteworthy since Zolin was then the guy who would normally handle such matters.

In early December, Zolin was ushered from his office on the Second Floor and relocated to the first floor office that had been used by the previous county clerk, John Corcoran. (When the posts of executive officer and clerk were merged in 1984, Zolin retained the office he had, located between those of the presiding judge and assistant presiding judge.)

Zolin's old office was converted into a conference room. The presiding judge's office is immense, and ideally suited for conferences—but Torres wanted a conference room.

There was painting, installation of plush carpeting (standard-issue county carpeting surely would not do), and acquisition of furniture.

At the time the project commenced in January, the cost figure being bounced around was $60,000-$70,000. But Deputy Executive Officer Judy Call said Friday it was done for $26,176, plus the value of previously acquired furniture that was moved in from elsewhere in the court system.

Though less than rumored, the cost was high considering the non-essential nature of the work and that it was undertaken at the time of a budgetary crunch.

Too, Torres' boy Dempsey got thick carpeting, contrasting with the flat standard-issue covering on the floors in adjoining first floor offices.

In 1990, Torres was issued a county autromobile: a new, fully equipped Buick Century. That wasn't good enough for him. He's now tooling around in a Nissan Maxima, a top-of-the-line car, provided by taxpayers.

Torres' approach to night court typifies his management style—if an approach based on sheer bull-headedness can be called "style."

Last December, he talked about night court in an interview with the MetNews. (Nowadays, he's punishing us, by not speaking to our reporters, because we won't parrot the Torres line.) His comments were reported one year ago today. He declared that he wanted to kill night court.

His reasons were cogent. But his timing was faulty. He announced his intention at a time when a study by an outside consulting firm, the Harvey M. Rose Accountancy Corporation, as to the effectiveness of the pilot project, was under way. The previous month, the court, through thenPresiding Judge Richard Byrne, had promised the Board of Supervisors to desist from ending night court pending a review of that study.

The board had long been pushing the night court program—which began Feb. 18, 1986—while the court had been resisting it. In 1987, the Superior Court's Executive Committee voted to terminate it based on a finding that it took five nighttime courtrooms to perform the work of six daytime courtrooms. The committee relented under pressure from the board. It agreed to continue the three-court nighttime criminal-case program for two years, as well as studying the pros and cons of setting civil and family law cases at night.

In 1988, a committee of the court evaluated the program, and urged that it be scrapped. But again, it was continued at the insistence of the board.

The next year, another court committee studied the program, and recommended its termination. The Executive Committee voted to axe it in early 1990, then relented, agreeing to await the Rose report, commissioned by the board. Byrne uttered his Nov. 14, 1990 promise as a condition to the board accepting $130 million in state funds for the county's trial courts. Torres' pronouncement that he wanted to kill the program clearly was in derogation of Byrne's pledge, made on behalf of the court, to "keep an open mind" about night court until the Rose report arrived.

It is unlikely that many outside of the Board of Supervisors would find cause for never-ending acquiescence by the Superior Court to the wishes of the board in connection with perpetuation of a program the court had determined to be inefficient. On the other hand, the judiciary is, traditionally, the weakest of the three branches of government; the Superior Court would be ill-advised to precipitate, needlessly, a confrontation with the county's combined executive-legislative branch.

Nonetheless, starting in May, Torres began making public pronouncements that night court would, in fact, end. This stance followed his receipt of the Rose report. Though less than explicit in its recommendations, it did contain language that could be construed as supporting the action Torres was signalling. However, his declarations preceded by four months the transmittal of the report to the board.

Torres announced at the Aug. 20 meeting of the Executive Committee that the three-court night court program would be ended as of Dec. 1. The 240 page report was delivered to members of the board on Sept. 3, along with a memo from Chief Administrative Officer Richard Dixon advising of the court's plan—well, actually it was the presiding judge's plan since the Executive Committee, the court's policy-making body, had not yet taken action. Attending to that oversight, the Executive Committee on Sept. 19 ratified Torres' proclamation. On Oct. 22, Torres wrote to the five supervisors advising them of the decision that had been made.

On Sept. 29, a spokesperson for Supervisor Mike Antonovich said a public hearing on night court would be held, and that Torres would be invited to participate. The public hearing took place on Nov. 5. Torres didn't show up for it—engendering indignation on the part of county lawmakers. Supervisor Ed Edelman thundered:

"I want to hear from the presiding judge and I want to ask some questions. We've worked too hard on this to be bamboozled by a Superior Court presiding judge."

Torres did appear at the Nov. 12 meeting of the board. Edelman proposed holding off on termination of night court pending a study by the Countywide Criminal Justice Coordination Committee. There had already been one study after another. On the other hand, tact, not belligerence, was called for at the moment. Torres displayed the latter.

"We're committed to Dec. 1," Torres declared. "Before you make any motion, the Superior Court has already cut the orders. The court has the authority to take this action, and we've done it."

This colloquy with Supervisor Gloria Molina took place:

MOLINA: "Do I understand that if we pass a motion, you will still close it down?"

TORRES: "If the Executive Committee so decides, yes."

MOLINA: "What kind of partnership do we have here?"

TORRES: "It isn't a partnership when I have to make a decision."

Supervisor Kenneth Hahn said he would "respectfully" ask the Executive Committee to consider extending night court until the CCJCC could provide input. Molina "very respectfully" asked for the delay. And Edelman said he "very, very respectfully" ask the same.

Torres responded by asking:

"May I be excused?"

The Executive Committee on Nov. 19 voted to reaffirm its previous decision. Torres called a press conference, but then refused to meet with reporters.

And by Dec. 1, night court was no more.

It may well be that the move was for the better, that courts should be operated at night only when there is a shortage of courtrooms—which presently, there is not. But the way Torres went about achieving the objective was in contrast to how previous, more genteel, yet effective, presiding judges would have accomplished it.

In light of the Rose report, it was inevitable that the Executive Committee would have terminated the program the judges simply didn't want. A carefully laid-out recitation by Torres to the board of the several studies of night court that had already been undertaken, and the multiple extensions of the program in which the court had previously acquiesced, would have been the approriate response...rather than his acting like an imperious ass.

Perhaps night court ended a few months earlier than it would have had it not been for Torres' ramrodding. Torres can exult in having gotten his way. As he exults, he will doubtlessly not reflect on the long-range detriment he may well have brought about to relations his court has with the Board of Supervisors...that body that controls the court's finances.

Also offended by Torres this past year were county's municipal court presiding judges. Under new legislation, municipal and superior courts must come up with "coordination" plans by March 1. In Torres' view, that means the Superior Court now has the power to boss around the lower trial court.

That's not quite how municipal court judges view it.

In a letter sent last June 25, Torres summoned each presiding judge of the county's 24 municipal courts to a Saturday meeting at 9 a.m. in Department of the Superior Court.

The recipients "were kind of affronted" by the letter, one of Torres' lower court brethren recounts, commenting:

"‘Coordination' means acting together. The tone of the letter was kind of, `You're going to be working for us.' ''

From another judicial district comes the observation that the spirit of the letter was:

"This is how we, the Superior Court, see it. We will meet and do these things....''

Torres said in the letter:

"It would be anticipated that general agreement on the following will be reached: (1) an agenda directed to a final agreement which would comply with [Government Code] Section 68112; (2) the establishment of a planning group; (3) a time frame for implementation of the county plan; and (4) the feasibility of establishing an ongoing county courts' ‘Board of Directors.’

"It is essential that you, as presiding judge, attend the organizational meeting, along with whomever you feel would be helpful in this initial meeting, including any court administrators. However, the meeting should include only court personnel. I anticipate the meeting to be completed by noon. Coffee will be available."

Indignation was so widespread among the recipients, a presiding judge recounts, that "we all came" to the meeting with Torres "to watch him squirm."

Since then, some municipal court presiding judges, the critic notes, have met with their local Superior Court branch's supervising judge, and come up with "a lot of good ideas" that make sense in their particular bailiwicks, though the ideas might not be suited to other regions of the county. But Torres, the judge reports, isn't interested in these notions, having assumed the position that "if it isn't county-wide, it won't be done."

The presiding judge calls that "craziness, just craziness."

Attributing Torres with "belligerence," the leader says Torres is insisting "that there will be one agreement, and the Superior Court will be the lead court." And, the jurist continues, Torres has the view that "if it isn't his idea, it won't fly."

The municipal court judge adds:

"Rick has not endeared himself, or his court, anywhere I've seen. Everybody winds up saying, `Who is that crazy man?' ''

The presiding judge labels his Superior Court counterpart an "arrogant, bull-headed bastard."

The high point of the Torres administration was his returning fire when Judge Joyce Karlin came under attack by District Attorney Ira Reiner for a sentence. She gave probation to a Korean-born storekeeper who had fatally shot a black teen-age girl she suspected of shoplifting. Reiner declared a policy of blanket-affidaviting of Karlin based on that sentence.

Torres denounced Reiner's "shrill antics." The press release was titled "D.A. Is Out of Line.''

Looking at the net effect: Torres' action was a positive one, being perceived as that of standing up for a member of the court who had made an honest judgment call, and was being mercilessly assailed by Reiner and others. Such action was appropriate because this particular judge, under the circumstances present, did not warrant the treatment she was receiving.

But was it unfairness to Karlin that prompted Torres' defense of her—or merely the fact that someone had the effrontery to be criticizing a judge? Torres reviles at disparagement of his black-robed compatriots—whether undeserved, as in Karlin's case, or fully warranted, as in the case of the court's "bad boy," Edward Ross.

A judge, as Torres sees it, is simply not to be bad-mouthed.

And certainly, it is not for commoners to tell the royal judiciary what it ought to be doing.

While the action of putting out a press release which created the impression of supporting Karlin was commendable, it is interesting to look at the wording. He uttered not a word that was favorable to the judge under attack. Rather, he assailed Reiner.

Declaring that "the Los Angeles Superior Court will not be intimidated" by Reiner, and "cannot accede to [his] threats," what Torres was declaring was:

"This guy Reiner is not going to tell judges what to do!''

He had made clear in his interview with this newspaper a year ago that lawyers would not tell him what to do.

Recounting that lawyers became a "little too pushy" when providing input on proposed revisions in fast track rules, he declared:

"I couldn't allow the lawyers to run the court. It got to the point that they wanted to tell me who were going to be the judicial officers sitting in certain courtrooms.

"That went just a little bit too far. I let them know in no uncertain terms I would listen to their complaints and if they were valid I would do something about them. But you can't tell me what judicial officers are going to sit in the courtrooms—that's the bottom line and I have to do what I think is best for the L.A. Superior Court."

Torres appears to be saying:

"The judges are running this court—not the lawyers, the Board of Supervisors, the newspapers, or the district attorney—and the judges are following me."

As one of his colleagues sees it, Torres' method of operating is to declare: "This is the way it's going to be," inviting no discussion. In response, "the judges just back off," the colleague observes.

The judge says of Torres:

"His whole way of approaching most things is [like] a bull in a china shop."

Torres will be presiding judge another year. Then he'll leave. He will be able to sing out, "I did it my way." Drowning him out will be a chorus proclaiming: "Good riddance!"

The new presiding judge, Robert Mallano, will restore the court to normalcy. But not all of the harm Torres did will be remedied quickly; some of it will be lasting.

Ricardo Torres will have enjoyed his moment in the sun. Then will come, for him, a starless nighttime. No one will be afraid of him. No one will feed his ego with false praise. Few will bother to listen to him.

There are those who, in recent years, served as presiding judge and ascended to greater heights. Donald Wright was appointed the state's chief justice; Louis Burke and David Eagleson gained membership on the California Supreme Court as associate justices; Richard Schauer rose to the post of a Court of Appeal presiding justice; Jack Goertzen was promoted to a position of associate justice on the appeals court...and Joseph Wapner became a judicial figure who, according to a national poll, was better known than the chief justice of the United States. Yet, higher office would not appear to be in the cards for Torres. In his quest to get his way as presiding judge, he displayed ruthlessness, he made enemies—achieving momentary glory, but foreclosing likely prospects of advancement.

Torres has sought to teach a lesson to those who have crossed him. His own lesson is to come.

POSTSCRIPT: There's been palaver from a Compton City Council member in the last few days about mounting a recall campaign against Karlin, based on the controversial sentence she imposed, and against Torres for defending her. While Torres did not actually utter any words of defense for Karlin, his action in firing back at her critic, Reiner, has created the impression of a defense—serving the same purpose as the real thing. (After all, public perceptions are not based on careful scrutiny of words in a press release and the drawing of nice distinctions.) Commendably, he created the image of standing in front of the court's fledgling member, saying: "If you want to take a poke at her, you gotta get by me." It's ironic that with all the things Torres has done that reflect on his unfitness for his administrative post, and cast doubt as to whether he's made of the stuff judges ought to be made of, he should come under fire for something he's done right. While the chances of a recall election taking place are slight, the possibility of it occurring cannot be dismissed in light of the intensity of emotions in connection with the sentence. Dumping Torres strikes me as a dandy idea—if a candidate with superior credentials and legitimate issues challenged him in the June election. But seeking to oust Torres through a recall election would be the wrong way, for the wrong reason.

Copyright 1991, Metropolitan News Company

Update

A recall effort fizzled. So did Torres' bid for elevation. He sought appointment as presiding justice of the Second District Court of Appeal, but didn't get it. Torres was reelected to his Superior Court seat in 1992, having drawn no opponent. He did not seek another term.

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