In a World of Hurst

Drug dealers and armed thugs don't threaten the public safety, but a dying man does.

"It's obvious that the 'public safety' issue here is that my husband has AIDS," Christina says.

The situation was the stuff of satirical novels--a big-time criminal denying clemency to a small-time one. Arthur Hurst stole property valued at $2,920. Symington stole millions through fraud.

When Symington was convicted of seven felonies, Christina Hurst and her daughter were in the courtroom. Christina cried with happiness.

But Symington, though his crimes are far more serious than Arthur Hurst's, will never suffer as much. Symington has never seen the inside of a jail cell. Hurst, guilty of not having enough money to make bail, lost his freedom for nine months before he was sentenced. Symington, awaiting his sentence in February, took a vacation with his family. Arthur Hurst, dying, remains in prison, wondering if he'll have any time with his wife and little girl before he dies.

It would be naive to portray Arthur Hurst as any kind of a saint, or to suggest that he's any more of a victim than any other inmate. He has messed up his life on just about every possible level. His drug problems led him to steal. Either you accept that as an excuse or you don't.

And our present justice system doesn't. This system, shaped largely by Fife Symington, holds everyone responsible for what he does, regardless of the conditions of his life.

But that system must include everyone, and it certainly must include the man responsible for it.

Symington has said that crime is caused by criminals, not social deprivation. He's made a bed of nails, and now he has to lie in it. If Symington is not in prison by Easter, one of the most heinous crimes in Arizona's history will have been committed by U.S. District Court Judge Roger Strand.

--Graham

Contact Barry Graham at his online address: bgraham@newtimes.com