Nate Monroe: JSO settlement was in the works before Deegan took office, memo shows

COMMENTARY | About one month before Mayor Donna Deegan took office last summer, City Hall attorneys indicated they were interested in settling a federal lawsuit over the death of Jamee Johnson, a 22-year-old Florida A&M University student killed during the course of a traffic stop in 2019, according to a legal memo that has not been previously reported.

The memo, dated May 26, 2023, notified the attorney representing Johnson's parents that although city lawyers stood by the actions of Jacksonville Sheriff's Office officer Josue Garriga, they also "recognize the potential costs" of continuing litigation and were planning to meet in the coming days "with the goal of resolving this conflict and reaching a reasonable agreement." That meeting was slated to include Garriga, the officer, and took place May 30, according to the document. By July, both sides had agreed to a $200,000 settlement — significantly less than the $5 million Johnson's parents had originally sought.

That timeline gives lie to a narrative that has developed around the settlement, which Sheriff T.K. Waters publicly objected to months later and prompted him to ask the Jacksonville City Council for a change in local law that would give him veto power over such settlements in the future. During debate around that proposed change this past week, City Council President Ron Salem cast blame on Deegan's administration for the purported breakdown in communication with Waters' office.

"There's a disconnect somewhere between this administration and (the Office of General Counsel) and this sheriff. Somewhere," Salem said. "And I believe because of that this legislation is needed because I'm not convinced that it's gonna be handled correctly in the future."

The settlement was already in the works by the time Deegan had taken office July 1, and city attorneys, following the current ordinance code, did nothing inappropriate when striking the settlement with Johnson's parents. They included Garriga, the officer who was also being sued. And although Waters complained last November of his alleged lack of "proper notification" of the impending settlement, city records show his office received a copy of the proposal Aug. 1. It was signed by Johnson's parents over the next two days. There is no indication Waters raised objections in real time to that agreement, and he didn't go public with his "deep disappointment" over the settlement until months after, when reporters noticed the lawsuit was formally dismissed by the judge overseeing the case.

In blaming the administration, Salem said the quiet part out loud about this manufactured controversy: Deegan had functionally nothing to do with this settlement — nor, for that matter, did the former mayor, Lenny Curry. Settlements of this size are handled with a routine, anodyne process that is more or less on autopilot. The mayor is only part of this story because Waters, a Republican, opposed Deegan, a Democrat, during last year's mayoral election, and the simple fact of her victory remains an insult the Republican-majority on the City Council won't let go. The council certainly should provide a check on the mayor's office, but the picayune nit-picking and bad-faith rhetoric at work here is both transparent and a waste of everyone's time. Worse, toying with the settlement process could increase the city's liability insurance costs, according to city officials. Big surprise: Insurers tend to be skeptical that subordinating fiscal prudence to the feelings of a politician leads to good outcomes.

To be clear: City attorneys were representing the interests of the city — the only agency at risk of losing money — and Garriga, who could have been exposed to massive financial liability in the event a jury trial went the other way. Waters doesn't pay the bills; the city's general fund does. Settling that lawsuit allowed the city to cover for the officer without admitting fault; the city would have been legally barred from paying a judgement on Garriga's behalf if it had taken the suit to trial and lost. And $200,000 is an absolute pittance, particularly when considering the millions Johnson's parents had initially asked for.

Despite the tortured framing, Waters' bill is actually anti-cop legislation because all it would do is add roadblocks to the city's ability to settle a lawsuit and protect an officer from personal financial exposure.

During debate this week, Lara Mattina, the sheriff's chief strategic adviser, told the council there was a need to "inject concern for public opinion" when making decisions of this kind. That is absurd: City attorneys should, and in this case, did, consider the cost to taxpayers, the likelihood of prevailing at trial, and the best interests of the officer being sued.

JSO seems to believe the settlement both harmed department morale and tarnished the agency's image with the public. These are of course subjective statements impossible to verify, but it doesn't take much thought to see a few logical weaknesses with the argument. Would defiantly taking the case to trial — a case that centered on a shooting that stirred some outrage — have not frayed the agency's relationship with some community members? One might think that decision would have worsened the tension.

What is JSO proposing, exactly? That the city take a poll every time it faces a settlement decision? More likely, it simply wants policy makers to adopt whatever view Waters has about public opinion and department morale. Despite his attestation this week this bill "is not a power grab and never has been," that is the only definitive upshot of its real-world impact.

Waters obliquely acknowledged to the council a fact inconvenient to the narrative that the settlement was the result of an anti-cop mayor gone rogue: Garriga was informed and involved in settlement talks, as he, the actual client, should have been. "He felt like he had to settle," Waters told the council. It wasn't clear to me if that was intended to imply something more nefarious at work, but in either case, that would merely make the officer like everyone who has ever settled a lawsuit: You settle because you feel like you have to. That is precisely what a settlement is, and given the city's reasonable conclusion that Johnson's parents may have had just enough evidence to defeat a motion to dismiss, it was almost certainly a good call.

Two council committees this week approved the legislation with an amendment that at least partially rectifies its core problem: In the event Waters and city officials disagree over the need to settle, either the council president or full council will break the tie. That is still a needless change but one that is at least marginally less noxious than the original idea.

During a committee hearing this past week, Mattina, Waters' adviser, condemned the "renewed discourse" around the Johnson shooting, an odd complaint given it was the sheriff's decision to use that as the basis for pursuing this legislation. What did he think would happen? She also said the "reputational damage" caused by the settlement was "profound and cannot be quantified," and she implied the decision was made without regard to what was best for JSO or the officer — an incredibly serious but absolutely unsupported accusation to levy against the city employees who worked on the case. Those employees include attorneys who have professional and ethical obligations to honestly represent their clients' interests; alleging with zero evidence that they violated those obligations is inappropriate and simply a cruel thing to do.

They're owed an apology for that outlandish rhetoric, and the rest of us are due one as well for this ridiculous — profound? — waste of time. And fortunately, that can be quantified.

Nate Monroe is a metro columnist whose work regularly appears every Thursday and Sunday. Follow him on Twitter @NateMonroeTU.

This article originally appeared on Florida Times-Union: Nate Monroe: JSO settlement was in the works before Deegan took office