Polk County, with less than 1% of Minnesota's population, charges the most prohibited zones drug crimes

Jul. 20—POLK COUNTY, Minn. — Though Polk County makes up less than 1% of Minnesota's population, it consistently charges more prohibited zone drug crimes than any other county in the state.

"It's been an issue a long time," said Eric Gudmundson, managing attorney for the Crookston Public Defender's Office. "For at least the last 15 (years), it's been similar numbers, and an ongoing issue and concern in my agency."

Minnesota law defines a prohibited zone as any space within 300 feet or one city block — whichever distance is greater — of a park, school, public housing or drug treatment facility. Anyone suspected of possessing certain drugs while in one of these zones may be charged with a second- or third-degree felony, depending on whether they're suspected of selling the drugs.

Greg Widseth, Polk County attorney, believes prohibited zone drug crimes are a public safety issue — a stance affirmed by the Minnesota Supreme Court in a 2004 ruling, which said, "there is a rational connection between the goal of protecting children from drugs and deterring the possession of drugs in school zones."

"Same thing applies in park zones," Widseth said. "For me, it's as simple as, if you want to violate the law, don't do it within those zones."

In 2023, Polk County charged 124 prohibited zone drug crimes, according to the Minnesota Court Research Office. There were 335 charges statewide.

Of those in Polk County, 89 resulted in convictions, either through a guilty plea or trial verdict.

With 147 convictions statewide in 2023, Polk County contributed 60.54% of the state's total. It's the highest rate statewide.

Blue Earth charged the second-highest number of prohibited zone drug crimes (33), followed by Beltrami (22) and Rice (11).

No other county filed nearly as many convictions. The second highest was in Mahnomen County, which had eight, according to district court criminal convictions data.

Throughout approximately 25 years working as a public defender in Polk County and the wider region, Gudmundson has represented clients in multiple northern Minnesota counties.

"You almost never see this in other counties," he said. "Really, Polk is the only place I deal with this."

Widseth says he can't control what prosecutors do in other counties.

"I just got elected to do my job, and if the public doesn't like what I'm doing as a prosecutor, they have every right to remove me — as with every elected official," he said.

Widseth has served as county attorney for more than 20 years, and has been running unopposed since beating an incumbent. He said that during this time, he's heard no opposition to the county's charging practices, other than from defendants, their families and attorneys.

"I understand the concept of it — trying to protect your children," said Jerdale Lewis Grace, recently sentenced for a prohibited zone drug crime. "It makes sense. But they're using it as a weapon to get convictions."

Polk County's prohibited zone drug charges usually result from a defendant's proximity to a school or park — of which there are many. There are 25 parks in Crookston and 15 in East Grand Forks. The cities have six schools each.

The majority of charges come from East Grand Forks, because "the whole Greenway's a park," Gudmundson said, referring to the miles-long stretch of public-use land along East Grand Forks' western edge.

"That's a big problem for us."

The one city block referenced in the definition of prohibited zones includes the entire eight-block radius surrounding the school or park, according to Widseth and Gudmundson.

"You get city blocks sometimes that are far bigger than 300 feet," Gudmundson said. "You could be a mile away."

In many cases, the defendant simply drove through the prohibited zone, or lived in a residence that happens to fall inside one, he said.

"The frustrating part of this is you're not seeing a lot of search warrants and drug dealers involved," Gudmundson said. "We're seeing addicts who are on probation and subject to search, and they relapse or they're using again, and that draws the attention of probation and/or police — and lo and behold, they live in a park or school zone."

Widseth sees no issue with this. He believes everyone has a choice to use or possess drugs in any given location. Though the intention behind the law is to protect children, it applies regardless of whether a child is present, like if the crime takes place inside a private residence or vehicle.

"Just like there are people who get arrested in school and park zones at 4 in the morning," Widseth said. "There aren't any kids there. The law doesn't differentiate on the time."

It's his responsibility to prosecute the laws exactly as they're written, he said.

For many of Gudmundson's clients, the amount of drugs they're accused of possessing would generally qualify for a fifth-degree charge — a gross misdemeanor. But because of where the crime took place, the charge is bumped up to third-degree and becomes a felony, regardless of the quantity.

"Almost all the cases we're seeing these last few years are trace to a gram," Gudmundson said. "It's getting to be very, very, very common where we're just seeing, basically, the remnants of whatever drugs they had. The pen to the needle, the plastic baggie with a little bit of (residue.)"

Some of these offenses might not even be crimes at all, but for the location, Gudmundson said. In 2023, Minnesota decriminalized controlled substance residue found on drug paraphernalia, but this doesn't apply in prohibited zones. He understands the rationale.

"You could say, 'Well, the reason they didn't decriminalize paraphernalia is we still don't want kids running into dirty needles or pen tubes with fentanyl or something on them,' " Gudmundson said. "It's a rational thing to say get rid of paraphernalia (charges), but not in school or park zones."

However, in another state with a similar statute, a judge determined it would be absurd to prosecute anyone who possesses drugs and drives past a school in mere seconds, he said.

This is what happened to James Michael Peters III, who drove by an East Grand Forks school while possessing a syringe that had methamphetamine residue inside it, according to court documents.

"Everything with trace cases had already been redefined, everything got knocked down," Peters said. "But there's a little loophole, and I guess I fell into it. There's some other people, too."

Toward the end of June, Peters was relocated to prison in St. Cloud, where he spoke to the Herald over a video call.

Peters' prison sentence was determined based on the Minnesota Sentencing Guidelines, which take into account current charges as well as criminal history. The guidelines are intended to hold everyone to the same standards throughout the state, rather than setting a maximum and allowing the judge to determine what's appropriate, as is often the case in North Dakota.

"We don't just pull numbers out of a hat," Widseth said. "We've got sentencing guidelines that control what we do."

Though there are exceptions, the shortest presumptive sentence for someone convicted of third-degree drug possession is a 21-month stayed sentence. The highest is 57 months. Anyone sentenced to 39 months or longer is presumed to serve prison time.

The shortest presumed sentence for a fifth-degree controlled substance crime is a 12-month stayed sentence, and the longest is 21 months. Only someone sentenced to 21 months is presumed to serve prison time.

When considering a defendant's criminal history, crimes are assigned points based on their severity. A defendant would have to be convicted of about a dozen fifth-degree possession charges before they'd be a presumptive commit to prison, while someone convicted of a third third-degree possession crime would likely spend time in prison, Gudmundson said.

"The presumed sentences are much longer, and you can have much less of a criminal history before you are looking at prison rather than probation," he said.

The higher the criminal history score, the longer the recommended sentence. Peters' score was a 3; he was sentenced to 39 months.

"How many other people are sitting in prison under these guidelines?" he said. "There's housing all over on the other side of the block. Someone could just be sitting in their house ... and they have an empty baggie with residue on it and all of a sudden, because they have a criminal record, they're going to sit five years out of their life."

In about half the prohibited zones cases Gudmundson deals with, the traffic stop doesn't actually happen in the prohibited zone. It's common for the officer to follow or watch the vehicle, he said.

"Here's what bothers me," Gudmundson said. "The officers have been trained now — when they don't find you in a park zone or school zone, but they find drugs, — to ask you, 'Where were you coming from? What route did you take?' "

If the person cooperates and speaks with police, they buy themselves a felony charge, he said.

"They don't know that they're digging themselves a hole by telling (police), 'I came this route,' " Gudmundson said.

Widseth said he's aware of this practice, though he's not sure when officers began implementing it.

Grace was sentenced to 48 months. He possessed a trace amount of cocaine while he was a passenger in a vehicle that drove past an East Grand Forks park, according to court documents.

He believes the sentence he received is unfair largely because, as a passenger, he had no control over where the vehicle traveled.

"(The judges) should be able to use their discretion and common sense, instead of just looking at it black and white," he said, referring to the sentencing guidelines.

Grace and Peters are attempting to appeal their convictions.

"That's my hope — to get some of these cases up on appeal and see if we can get any traction in the Court of Appeals," Gudmundson said. "It's frustrating because you're representing people who, but for them being in the one county in the state that chooses to operate like this, they'd be in a much different situation."

Though Grace and Peters took their cases to trial, many in their position don't, Gudmundson said. Defendants facing third-degree possession charges are held on higher bail, so they're often sitting in jail until their case is resolved.

"A lot of times, if somebody's in jail, and the offer is 'plead and you get out,' most people are going to say, 'I don't care, I'll plead, I need out of here,'" Gudmundson said.

The amount of jail or prison time hanging over their heads during the probationary period is daunting, but overshadowed by the immediate relief of getting out of jail, he said. Though probation can help people stay on track, it's a risk, because a relapse might land them in prison.

Relapse and recidivism rates in Polk County — though not officially documented — are significant, Widseth and Gudmundson agree.

"Especially when we're talking about methamphetamine use, which has exploded in the last 10 to 12 years," Gudmundson said.

It's frustrating as a citizen, he said, because the way things are currently handled is clearly not working.

"The problem, in my career, has gotten 50 times worse, I swear," he said. "I don't know the answer, but I just know that what we're doing doesn't seem to be too effective."

As the problem worsens, the attitude toward those charged with drug crimes has changed, Gudmundson said.

"It used to be that everybody was against drugs, lock them up and throw away the key — until it was somebody they knew," he said.

Now, during jury selections, a growing number of people say someone close to them is dealing with addiction.

"You're seeing more and more people, and families, that have gone through this," Gudmundson said. "I think that creates a little bit more empathy."

People want to see drug users getting help, he said.

Widseth is often asked whether the county attorney's office sends defendants to treatment, but that's not something it can do, he said.

"The best I can do is push someone in the direction of treatment," Widseth said.

When someone is convicted of a drug or alcohol crime in Polk County, they're ordered to complete a comprehensive chemical use assessment and follow through with any recommendations, which may include treatment.

What a defendant has access to depends on their sentence.

Tri-County Community Corrections — which covers Polk, Norman and Red Lake counties — was recently awarded opioid settlement funding that will, in part, fund a recently hired program coordinator. The coordinator will prepare inmates to enter treatment once released from custody, according to Executive Director Andrew Larson.

"We recognize that there may be some scenarios where it's just not feasible for the person to be released," Larson said. "So, in those circumstances, we may attempt to initiate some treatment services while they're in custody."

Prisons offer treatment programs to inmates, but depending on how long the person will be there, they may not be eligible to utilize the resource, Gudmundson said. This is the case with Peters, who was transferred to prison after serving just over one year in local custody.

With the two-thirds rule, Peters has about 14 months left to serve in custody, and the rest will be spent on supervised release. With less than 18 months in prison left, he said he's below the minimum amount of time required to apply for treatment.

"I was actually hoping to get more time, because I would've loved to participate in (the program)," Peters said. "I don't even have enough time to do that, so I'm just sitting that time of 14 months."