Gerardo Serrano and Stephanie Wilson may have little in common. But there is at least one major tie that binds them: The government seized their vehicles, never charged either of them with a crime, and, most pertinently, made them wait years before resolving their cases.
It is not uncommon for victims of civil forfeiture—the practice that allows law enforcement to take people’s assets without having to prove the owner was guilty of a crime—to endure protracted delays before they have the opportunity to even step foot in a courtroom and defend themselves. The U.S. Supreme Court will soon hear Culley v. Attorney General of Alabama and decide if those who find themselves in that situation are entitled to a probable cause hearing after the seizure and, if so, how speedily it must happen.
That the highest court in the country has to rule on whether people get such a hearing is an apt indictment of how unaccountable civil forfeiture has become.
Serrano’s case is instructive. In September 2015, while traveling to Mexico, he stopped at the border in Eagle Pass, Texas, to take pictures. That upset some Customs and Border Protection (CBP) agents, who demanded he surrender the password to his cellphone. Serrano refused. The agents then searched his new Ford F-250 truck, found five stray bullets, and accused him of smuggling “munitions of war.” Serrano had a concealed carry permit, and there was no firearm in his vehicle. The officers confiscated his car anyway.
But the fragile nature of the allegation didn’t matter, because it would never be subject to scrutiny. The government didn’t press charges. They did, however, keep his vehicle for two years, without holding a hearing where he could contest the seizure—or without ever filing a formal forfeiture complaint.
The dearth of due process protections was devastating. Serrano paid the government $3,800—10 percent of the car’s value—as a requirement to fight the move in federal court; he was met with more radio silence, even after the feds cashed the check. A Kentucky resident, he subsequently spent thousands of dollars on rental cars while his vehicle sat halfway across the country, locked in a Texas parking lot.
Hellbound and Down 