Antwan Wheeler remembers that he and two of his friends were walking along a residential street to a nightclub for teens in South Dekalb when he first spotted the police car slowing as it came over the hill. It was December 23, 2010, just after 8 p.m. A fifteen-year-old with an extensive criminal background, including two felony convictions, Wheeler had had run-ins with this particular cop before. And even though he says he wasn’t breaking the law at this moment, he was bracing himself for the usual hassle and interrogation.
An Atlanta-area youth was assaulted by a DeKalb County police officer, arrested, and served two years in a juvenile correctional facility, all for a crime he did not commit, according to a lawsuit filed in DeKalb County State Court on Tuesday. But what’s worse, the complaint claims, is that this wrongful incarceration may not have been an isolated oversight, but rather the result of problems endemic in the DeKalb juvenile justice system.
Martin Luther King Jr.'s children are no strangers to the Fulton County courthouse. Their legal dramas have been the subject of news stories for years. In the latest wrangling, brothers Dexter and Martin, filed a complaint on Friday, asking their younger sister, Bernice, to turn over MLK's Nobel Peace Prize and his Bible.
Six months since Patrick Cotrona’s fatal shooting stirred fears of violent crime and helped galvanize a community, police still do not know who killed him. They say public assistance is crucial in solving Cotrona’s murder and other crimes that could be connected.
Conventional wisdom—and decades of TV cops shows—may lead you to believe that the city is dangerous and undereducated while the suburbs are havens for all things intellectual. In some places those stereotypes may well hold true.
The mystery of who mailed letters containing ricin to president Obama and New York mayor Michael Bloomberg has been getting even more mysterious. And now has a zombie connection!
When the fleet of news vans is docked, mast-like antennae jutting upward, outside of the Fulton County Courthouse, they are there for murder, corruption, the headliner drama of Superior Court. But while the big-shot prosecutors slug it out with the high-priced defense attorneys in front of the media gallery on the upper floors of 136 Pryor Street, real life plays out on the ground floor, in courtrooms 1A and 1B. This is State Court—Criminal Division, strictly for everyday misdemeanors