The Case of Cory Maye

A cop is dead, an innocent man may be on death row, and drug warriors keep knocking down doors.

Radley Balko from the October 2006 issue

(Page 2 of 7)

Beyond the issues of race and guns, beyond even the question of Cory Maye’s guilt or innocence, the death of Ron Jones illustrates the dangers of an increasingly literal war on drugs featuring unnecessarily aggressive, militaristic tactics that regularly lead to tragedies for police officers and civilians alike. At least 40 innocent people have been killed in paramilitary-style drug raids since the early 1980s, as have at least 15 police officers. And there are at least 150 cases of “wrong door” raids, in which SWAT teams or similarly aggressive police units have raided the wrong home.

‘He Used to Cook for Me All the Time’

Cory Maye was born to Dorothy Maye Funchess on September 9, 1980, the youngest of seven children. His father is Robert Brown, a man who was absent for much of Maye’s childhood but reconnected with his son when the young man was in his late teens. Maye takes his last name from Kenneth Maye, who was married to his mother for several years and was the primary male influence during his formative years.

Maye grew up poor, though Funchess went to great lengths to keep a clean house, assigning each of her kids a series of household tasks. Cory seemed especially drawn to the kitchen. “It’s what I miss most [with] him being in prison,” Funchess says. “He used to cook for me all the time.”

According to Maye’s relatives, teachers, and previous employers, he was a good kid growing up. He had no history of violence, no bad temper, no trouble with the law. He was close to his family, shy, and reserved. His grades were average, but to help with family expenses he dropped out of high school in the 10th grade and began working for his biological father’s construction and landscaping business. When he wasn’t working for Brown, Maye did some freelance landscaping and brick masonry. He was unemployed at the time of the raid: Jobs dry up when the weather turns wet, and December brings the thick of South Mississippi’s rainy season.

Maye was growing increasingly unhappy with his living arrangements at the time of the raid, and his unemployment was only part of the problem. He adored his daughter, and he and Longino had moved from nearby Monticello to Prentiss to try to make a life together. But Maye missed his home and his family, and he didn’t like the seedy neighborhood where they’d found an apartment. “He called me every day,” Funchess says. “He wanted to bring the baby and Chenteal and come home.” Maye complained about the tenant living on the other side of the building, who made a lot of noise and had people coming and going all hours of the day and night, often waking Tacorriana.

On December 23, a homesick Maye returned to Monticello. Longino immediately pleaded with him to come back to Prentiss, ultimately convincing him to stick it out until after the holidays. After the New Year, she said, they’d think about finding a new apartment, or perhaps move in with his or her parents. Maye agreed, and his mother, aunt, and siblings spent Christmas with him in Prentiss.

On the night of the raid, while Maye was dozing off in front of the TV, Officer Ron Jones was visiting the home of Prentiss City Judge Ron Kruger, presenting him with an affidavit for two search warrants, one for each apartment at the duplex. According to the affidavit, a confidential informant told Jones there was a “large stash” of marijuana in each of the duplex apartments. Though there appear to have been two warrants, it also seems clear that Jones was primarily interested in a man named Jamie Smith, who lived in the apartment opposite Maye and Longino. Smith already had drug charges pending against him from four months before. On the warrant affidavit, Jones described Smith as a “known drug dealer.” By contrast, neither Maye nor Longino was mentioned by name in any of the affidavits or warrants, and other than the alleged assertions of the confidential informant, there’s no reason to suspect that either was selling drugs.

After getting the search warrants he needed from Kruger, Jones returned to the police station and waited for the arrival of the ad hoc raid team he’d assembled. Jones usually referred drug tips to the Pearl River Narcotics Task Force, a multi-jurisdictional SWAT team that specializes in serving drug warrants. But for reasons that are still unclear—perhaps because the team wasn’t readily available over the holidays and he wanted to act quickly—Jones put together his own team, enlisting one member of the task force and one volunteer officer along with local police from Prentiss and nearby towns.

Jones and five other officers left for the Mary Street duplex, which was just a few blocks from the police station, about 11 p.m. They split into two teams. The first would take Jamie Smith’s apartment, on the north side of the duplex. The second would hit the apartment on the south side, Maye and Longino’s home, whose occupants were described in the second warrant as “person(s) unknown.” The fact that they weren’t explicitly identified in the warrant is important, because it shows that neither of them was even known to police, much less individually suspected of a crime. (Bob Evans, Maye’s current attorney, says his client never met Jones. Several officers and Judge Kruger testified at trial that they had never heard Cory Maye’s name until after the raid.) The only evidence against Maye leading police to come to his home that night was the alleged assurance from a confidential informant that there was marijuana inside his half of the duplex.

As the squad cars pulled into the gravel drive, Christmas lights flickered from Cory Maye and Chenteal Longino’s front porch. A child’s bicycle leaned against the railing. A wreath hung from the young couple’s door.

Jamie Smith gave up without a struggle. According to police, someone in Smith’s home immediately opened the door when the officers arrived, and those inside the apartment—Smith, his girlfriend Audrey Davis, and a 15-year-old boy named Jimmy—surrendered without incident. Police found marijuana in the bathroom and kitchen of Smith’s apartment, as well as scales containing crack cocaine residue. Yet as of press time, Smith has yet to be charged for any of the drugs found in his apartment nearly five years ago.

Maye, meanwhile, had no prior criminal record, and police had discovered nothing in the apartment to indicate drug dealing. They found a little more than a gram of marijuana, most of it old and ashen—at worst a misdemeanor. “Under any other circumstances, he’d have gotten a $50 ticket,” says Evans. But Maye had just killed a cop. Worse, he had killed the well-liked, widely respected son of the town’s police chief.

Maye was taken to the Forest County jail in Hattiesburg, an hour away from Prentiss. Maye and his family say he was severely beaten after the raid. The police deny the charge, but a press photo of Maye taken shortly after the raid displays a swollen, blackened eye. His family was prohibited from seeing him for more than a week—long enough for any injuries to heal. Maye’s brother told one newspaper that Maye “bled out of his ear for a week” after the raid as a result of the police beating.

Maye was held in the county jail without bond. In February 2002, a local judge sent his case to a grand jury, which a few months later indicted him for capital murder: the knowing, intentional killing of a police officer. After a trial that hinged on whether Maye had known Jones was a policeman or had mistaken him for an invading criminal, a jury deliberated for a little more than an hour before finding him guilty of murder on January 24, 2004. That same afternoon, the same jury sentenced him to death.

Comments

|10.10.09 @ 2:53AM|#

excellent article, both compelling and documented, you're a credit to the field of writing.

Pingback| 11.17.09 @ 3:11PM

Twitter Trackbacks for The Case of Cory Maye - Reason Magazine [reason.com] on Topsy links to this page. Here’s an excerpt:

…Topsy to Your Blog Turn tweets into comments for your WordPress blog. Topsy Plugin – WordPress Shortened Links Linking to the reason.com page http://is.gd/4XkqB   2 tweets retweet The Case of Cory Maye - Reason Magazine reason.com/archives/2006/10/01/the-case-of-cory-maye – view page – cached A cop is dead, an innocent man may be on death row, and drug warriors keep knocking down doors. 2 All 2…

Pingback| 11.17.09 @ 9:32PM

All Libertarians Only Care About Taxes and White People § Unqualified Offerings links to this page. Here’s an excerpt:

…Crack rock, rolling paper, switchblade | Main | November 17, 2009 All Libertarians Only Care About Taxes and White People By Mona Everyone “knows” that, right? Well Radley Balko’s Pulitzer-worthy journalism was the sine qua non of this. Or at least, his publicity-generating investigations mean that Cory Maye will now have a superb defense team. (And for those who may not know, Maye is an…

Pingback| 11.19.09 @ 2:43AM

Why you should care about Cory Maye and Cameron Todd Willingham » North by Northweste links to this page. Here’s an excerpt:

…Writing Politics Multimedia Magazine RSS Why You Should Care / Nov. 18, 2009 at 11:20 pm Why you should care about Cory Maye and Cameron Todd Willingham By Matt Zeitlin It’s hard to imagine a more depressing story than that of Cory Maye. In September, 2001, when he was just 21 years old, Maye fell asleep on the couch of his duplex in Prentiss, Mississippi. Hours later, armed men assaulted his home and burst into his…

|11.21.09 @ 1:32AM|#

This is absurd, self defense is a god given right, this cop crossed the line, and got what he had coming. I've got nothing against cops per-say, but when they use Nazi tactics, and lose, justice turns pervert. It's not even justice anymore, our system is so corrupt, and one sided, you are NOT presumed innocent,until you can prove it beyond doubt, any doubt. The second one sets foot in a courtroom, they're guilty, and the court is prejudice.

|11.21.09 @ 1:37AM|#

This is absurd, self defense is a god given right, this cop crossed the line, and got what he had coming. I've got nothing against cops per-say, but when they use Nazi tactics, and loose, justice turns pervert. It's not even justice anymore, our system is so corrupt, and one sided, you are NOT presumed innocent,until you can prove it beyond doubt, any doubt. The second one sets foot in a courtroom, they're guilty, and the court is prejudice.

|11.21.09 @ 4:17AM|#

A really simple solution to the problem of "he said, he said", would be to mandate by law recording devices be present during these raids. A man's life hinges upon whether the police shouted "Police!" before he started shooting at them. How simple it would have been to have a video, or even audio recording of the raid.
The standard of proof would be statutorily pegged, that if the police did not make the recording, in violation of law, then the presumption of credibility will lie with the defendant.

|11.21.09 @ 10:43PM|#

Want to make a CHANGE in Mississippi? Take 3 minutes and sign my petition! You'll be glad you did!
http://www.gopetition.com/online/25939.html