Cuban asylum seeker Miguel Jerez Robles returned to family in McFarland on Thursday, a month after ICE agents arrested him following a routine immigration hearing in Miami.
His arrest was one of the first in a wave of courthouse arrests, which appear to be part of a new strategy by President Donald Trump’s administration to send many people who were in legal immigration processes on a fast-track to deportation. Jerez spent the next four weeks at an ICE detention center in Tacoma, Washington, uncertain what his future would hold.
Now, he is home.
“I still don’t believe it. I say it’s a miracle from God,” said Jerez, who got word he’d be released on his own recognizance just minutes before he was scheduled to request a bond before a judge.
Jerez still doesn’t know why he was arrested, or why he’s now been released. Andrew Billmann, a family friend, contacted Democratic U.S. Sen. Tammy Baldwin as soon as Jerez was detained. Jerez said he thinks that effort, along with news coverage about his detention, likely helped.
Miguel Jerez Robles hugs his sister Vivianne at Chicago O’Hare International Airport as his mother Celeste Robles Chacón (foreground) and wife Geraldine Cruz Dip look on. Jerez spent the last month at an immigration detention center in Tacoma, Washington. (Courtesy of Geraldine Cruz Dip)
He was released on Wednesday with just one other person, a fellow Cuban asylum seeker, though he says he met many other immigrants who came to the detention center in similar circumstances.
“They’d been living in the U.S. for three years. They had no criminal record. … Their cases were dismissed, and they were detained outside the courtroom,” Jerez said. “And they’re still detained.”
As he collected his clothes to leave the Northwest ICE Processing Center on Wednesday, an official told him just how unusual his situation was.
“He told me, ‘You’re very lucky because right now we’re not releasing anyone. Everyone who leaves here is going back to their country, or they’ve won an asylum case while detained, or they’ve gotten out on bond,’” Jerez said.
He agrees that he’s lucky. “There are a lot of people who don’t have the resources to pay for a lawyer. It’s very sad, what I saw inside there.”
Before his release, Jerez was connected with a local immigrant aid organization that brought him to the Seattle-Tacoma International Airport, Billmann said.
“We booked a redeye for him, from (Seattle) to (Chicago),” Billmann wrote in a text message to the Cap Times and Wisconsin Watch Friday.
Billmann and his wife, Kathy, joined Jerez’s wife, sister and mother to pick him up at the airport Thursday morning.
Escape from Cuba
When Jerez crossed the U.S.-Mexico border in 2022, he turned himself in to Border Patrol agents and asked for asylum. He’d participated in protests against Cuba’s communist government in 2021 and had been targeted by the police and government ever since, his family said during his detention. Federal and international law requires the United States to allow people to apply for asylum if they fear persecution in their home countries based on their politics or identity.
At the time, Joe Biden was president and border agents routinely allowed asylum seekers to enter the country with temporary legal protections while their cases were pending in immigration court — a process that can take years due to court system backlogs.
Jerez hired a lawyer and followed the steps required by law. Then U.S. voters elected a new president who promised to carry out mass deportations. In January, Trump issued an executive order suspending legal protections for asylum seekers. In May, immigrant advocates say, judges began coordinating with ICE agents to dismiss asylum cases and detain asylum seekers in courthouses.
Jerez was detained in the first few days of that new strategy at courthouses, his attorney said. Jerez had flown to Miami with his wife and mother for the first hearing in his asylum case, usually just a bureaucratic step. Instead, at the request of the federal government’s attorney, the judge tossed his claim without explanation.
During the No Kings protest in McFarland, Andrew Billmann spreads the word about his friend, McFarland resident Miguel Jerez Robles, a Cuban asylum seeker who was detained by immigration officers outside his immigration hearing in Miami. (Ruthie Hauge / The Cap Times)
Plainclothes Immigration and Customs Enforcement agents met him outside the courtroom, arresting him and placing him in expedited removal proceedings, where immigrants can face immediate deportation unless they can show a “credible fear” of persecution in their home country for their politics or identity.
ICE gives no reason for release
Just like his arrest, Jerez’s release left his lawyers and family with questions.
Billmann said he received an email from Baldwin’s office informing them Jerez would be released Wednesday.
Ismael Labrador with the Miami-based Gallardo Law Firm, said Friday ICE gave the legal team no explanation for Jerez’s release.
“We didn’t get anything from the deportation officer regarding the reason why he got released. We just got the good news,” Labrador said, noting the legal team got the call on Wednesday.
The Department of Homeland Security claimed Jerez was taken into custody because he entered the U.S. “illegally.”
“Most aliens who illegally entered the United States within the past two years are subject to expedited removals,” the DHS wrote in an email Friday. “(Former President Joe) Biden ignored this legal fact and chose to release millions of illegal aliens, including violent criminals, into the country with a notice to appear before an immigration judge. ICE is now following the law and placing these illegal aliens, like Miguel Jerez Robles, in expedited removal.”
“(Homeland Security) Secretary Noem is reversing Biden’s catch and release policy that allowed millions of unvetted illegal aliens to be let loose on American streets,” the DHS wrote in the email.
Jerez arrived in the U.S. more than two years ago and has no criminal record.
The department did not respond to follow up questions on why Jerez was released.
Baldwin played role behind the scenes
Baldwin confirmed Friday her office pushed for Jerez’s release.
“From day one, the Trump Administration has sought to divide our communities by attacking immigrants – from executive orders to new policies,” Baldwin wrote in an emailed statement.
The senator became involved after Billmann contacted her office in May.
U.S. Sen. Tammy Baldwin pushed for the release of asylum seeker Miguel Jerez Robles, who was arrested in an apparent Trump administration strategy to send many people who were in legal immigration processes on a fast-track to deportation. Baldwin is shown on Sept. 4, 2024, in Milwaukee. (Joe Timmerman / Wisconsin Watch)
Her office contacted ICE, requesting information on the reason behind Jerez’s detention and the status of his case.
“After that they checked in with us from time to time,” Billmann wrote in a text message to the Cap Times and Wisconsin Watch. “(But) Wednesday was a total surprise.”
The senator’s office said it followed up multiple times with the ICE’s Seattle field office seeking more information on Jerez’s request for release. On June 24, ICE officials told Baldwin’s office they had no record of a request for release, at which point the senator’s office connected with Jerez’s legal team and re-sent the request to the Seattle office.
“I am glad to have been able to help Miguel reunite with his family and stand ready to continue to fight for Wisconsinites facing similar situations,” Baldwin’s statement said.
Billmann said he and his wife, Kathy, postponed a planned vacation this week after hearing Jerez was coming home.
“This was a better way to spend the (days),” Billmann said.
Future remains unclear
Despite the family’s joyous reunion, Jerez’s future remains shrouded in uncertainty.
Geraldine Cruz Dip and husband Miguel Jerez Robles sleep in the car on the drive from Chicago to McFarland Thursday morning after Jerez was released from immigration detention. (Courtesy of Geraldine Cruz Dip)
On June 12, while at the detention center in Tacoma, Jerez completed an interview to assess the validity of his fear of persecution in Cuba.
Jerez’s attorney said the law firm has not yet received the results and does not know when it will receive that information.
“We should have gotten that by now,” Labrador said.
Labrador said Friday he and other lawyers had appealed Jerez’s expedited removal as soon as he was arrested in May. If Jerez wins that appeal, they will file a second asylum request. If he loses that appeal, he may be forced to return to ICE custody.
For now, Jerez said, it looks like he may be back where he was before his month-long imprisonment. When he was released from detention on Wednesday, he was handed the same I-220A form he’d received when he crossed the U.S. border.
He and his wife, Geraldine Cruz Dip, said they’re glad for a fresh chance to make his asylum case “in freedom.”
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Last month, a McFarland man who arrived in the U.S. three years ago from Cuba attended what he thought would be the first hearing in his asylum case. Instead, in what appears to be a nationwide trend, a judge dismissed his case and ICE arrested him.
Miguel Jerez Robles was among the first people swept up in a recent wave of arrests inside immigration court buildings, a place considered off limits for such enforcement until the Trump administration loosened restrictions.
His story illustrates the volatility and randomness of the country’s immigration processes. While Jerez is now imprisoned in a Tacoma, Washington, detention center, his sister — who arrived in the U.S. just days later and was given different paperwork — has a green card.
Editor’s note:A day after this story was published Miguel Jerez Robles was released from an ICE detention center in Tacoma, Washington. Read an update here.
When McFarland resident Miguel Jerez Robles boarded a plane to Miami last month, he thought he’d be attending a routine immigration hearing about his asylum application and enjoying a rare vacation with his wife and mother.
The 26-year-old and his family had come to Wisconsin in 2022, fleeing political persecution from the Cuban government. They moved to the village just outside Madison, home to a friend his brother-in-law met while driving a taxi in Santiago de Cuba.
Jerez rented an apartment near the high school and got a job delivering packages all over southern Wisconsin, first for FedEx and later for an Amazon subcontractor. He and his wife started a popular YouTube channel, Cubanitos en la USA, where they shared videos about what it was like to work as a delivery driver, buy a car or shop for groceries in Wisconsin.
The Florida trip was Jerez’s first vacation since arriving. Jerez planned to go to the May 22 preliminary hearing in his asylum case, then take his family to the beach and explore the city.
Instead, immigration authorities arrested Jerez and sent him to a detention center, sweeping him up in what appears to be a coordinated strategy to fast-track deportations.
When Jerez appeared in the Miami courtroom, a federal attorney asked the judge to dismiss his asylum claim. According to Jerez’s family, the judge agreed without explanation, then wished him luck.
Jerez headed to meet his wife, Geraldine Cruz Dip, and his mother, Celeste Robles Chacón, who were waiting just outside the fifth-floor courtroom.
Miguel Jerez Robles and Geraldine Cruz Dip met while working at a Chinese restaurant in Santiago de Cuba, Cuba. They came to the United States seeking asylum in 2022 and married in Fitchburg in 2023. (Photo courtesy of the couple)
Plainclothes Immigration and Customs Enforcement agents were waiting too. They handcuffed and arrested him before he could reach his family, his mother said.
Three days later, Jerez was shackled and flown to a detention center in Tacoma, Washington, through a process called expedited removal, which allows the government to deport certain immigrants without first hearing their cases in court.
His wife and mother returned home to McFarland alone.
“The vacation turned into a nightmare,” Cruz said. “Everything fell apart in a moment.”
Jerez was among the first people swept up in a recent wave of arrests inside immigration court buildings, a place considered off limits for such enforcement until the Trump administration loosened restrictions earlier this year. Some, like Jerez, report judges unexpectedly dismissing their cases in what some immigrants and attorneys believe is a coordinated effort to quickly detain large numbers of people as soon as they lose legal immigration status — including those who, like Jerez, have no criminal history.
“It’s easier to go to a courthouse and pick up everyone there than go searching for them at home,” Cruz said.
These arrests, which appear to have begun in late May, are part of President Donald Trump’s sweeping immigration crackdown, some of which he promised on the campaign trail. The scale and methods reach far beyond what many expected from an administration that has vowed to prioritize removing people who threaten public safety. Recent ICE raids at schools and other sensitive locations have sparked multi-day protests in Los Angeles and other major cities.
For asylum seekers like Jerez, who followed steps laid out by the previous administration, the policy shift means they’ll now likely have to make their cases from behind bars.
His story illustrates the volatility and randomness of the country’s immigration processes. Had Jerez arrived five years earlier, before President Barack Obama ended the “wet foot/dry foot” policy that applied to Cuban immigrants since the 1960s, he and his family would have immediately qualified for legal status and a pathway to citizenship. And if he’d only been given the same paperwork as his sister — who arrived for the same reasons just days later — he may have a green card today like she does.
Attorneys: Judges and ICE collaborate in courthouse arrests
Jerez’s arrest shocked his attorneys too. For much of the past two decades, officials reserved the expedited removal process for immigrants arrested near the border within two weeks of arriving in the country.
Former President George W. Bush first implemented these guidelines in 2004. However, during his first term, Trump expanded use of expedited removal procedures to include immigrants anywhere in the United States who have spent less than two years in the country. Former President Joe Biden rescinded that expansion, only to see Trump restore it in January through one of the first executive orders of his new term.
People who are convicted of certain felonies can face expedited removal outside of normal parameters.
“But these people, they are clean. They have no crimes, no record, no nothing,” Ismael Labrador, an attorney with Miami-based Gallardo Law Firm who is representing Jerez, said of those affected by Trump’s latest tactics.
Jerez has been in the country longer than two years. But the Trump administration argues expedited removal should apply to similarly situated immigrants, as long as immigration authorities processed them within two years of their arrival.
“He had everything in order, and he was arbitrarily arrested and placed in expedited removal when he doesn’t qualify to be in expedited removal,” Labrador said.
Geraldine Cruz Dip, left, and Vivianne Jerez show a screenshot they took during a video call with their husband and brother Miguel Jerez Robles, who’s been detained at the Northwest Detention Center in Tacoma, Washington, since May. They say detention has made him depressed. (Ruthie Hauge / The Cap Times)
The American Civil Liberties Union of New York sued the Trump administration in January, arguing Trump violated the rulemaking process and the Fifth Amendment’s due process clause in expanding the scope of expedited removal.
Now, the administration is further accelerating removals by dispatching ICE agents to courthouses to immediately arrest following the dismissal of immigration cases.
Labrador isn’t surprised immigration judges, government attorneys and ICE agents appear to be collaborating on the plan. While the federal government’s judicial branch houses most judges, immigration judges are part of the executive branch, employed by the Department of Justice.
“They work for the same boss,” he said, referring to Trump.
In light of the new practice, the nonprofit National Immigration Project recommends immigration attorneys consider requesting virtual hearings to protect clients from courthouse arrest.
“Unfortunately, if I remember correctly, he was imprisoned on the second day this new (courthouse arrest) strategy had begun,” Labrador said. “It was a surprise to all of us.”
Some of Labrador’s other clients have been detained in similar ways, prompting him to begin requesting virtual hearings.
He followed the rules. Then the rules changed.
Jerez sought asylum in the United States after mass demonstrations in his homeland in 2021, when people in dozens of Cuban cities took to the streets to protest shortages of food and medicine, as well as their government’s strict response to the COVID-19 pandemic.
Jerez had spoken out against Cuba’s communist government and refused to perform his mandatory military service, putting him and his family in the crosshairs of the authorities, Cruz said. She recalled a time when police interrogated him for six hours and broke his cellphone.
“They told him that the same thing would happen to us as to that phone,” Cruz said. Another time, she said, the police chief came to the family’s home ahead of another round of protests and told them that if they wanted to live, they’d stay home.
The couple lost their jobs at a Chinese restaurant, she said, after police threatened to shut it down if they weren’t fired. The pressure wouldn’t let up, Cruz said, so Jerez and three family members flew to Nicaragua in separate trips and then spent two months traveling by land to the U.S.-Mexico border.
Jerez and his family followed all the government’s requirements while pursuing permanent legal status, his immigration attorneys said.
That included presenting themselves to Border Patrol agents and requesting asylum when they arrived in Nogales, Arizona, in 2022. Jerez was handed an immigration form called an I-220A, allowing immigrants to be released into the United States as long as they stay on the government’s radar — following certain rules and appearing at all court hearings.
Vivianne Jerez, sister of Miguel Jerez Robles, holds a letter from the Madison Police Department verifying that her brother has no criminal record in the jurisdiction. (Ruthie Hauge / The Cap Times)
Celeste Robles Chacón, mother of Miguel Jerez Robles, was waiting for him outside his asylum hearing when he was arrested by plainclothes immigration enforcement agents. (Ruthie Hauge / The Cap Times)
After the family settled in McFarland, Jerez drove to Milwaukee every year for a check-in with immigration agents. He never missed an appointment, his wife said. The government issued a work permit that authorized him to work in the U.S. until 2029.
In 2023, Jerez’s sister Vivianne received a green card, making her a permanent U.S. resident. That’s because she received different paperwork upon her release at the border. It placed her on humanitarian parole, which provides temporary legal status to people from certain countries.
The 1966 Cuban Adjustment Act allows Cubans to apply for permanent residency after having lived in the United States for more than a year. But Jerez was not eligible while his asylum case was pending in immigration court. The U.S. Board of Immigration Appeals ruled in 2023 that immigrants with I-220A status could not apply for green cards.
Meanwhile, a Trump executive action ended humanitarian parole for people arriving from a slew of countries, including Cuba.
Border agents’ choice to nudge a brother and sister toward divergent immigration pathways appears to be random, the family said. That fits a trend, said Labrador, as border agents receive little to no guidance — and wide discretion — on what paperwork fits each situation.
Seeking asylum a second time
Once in expedited removal proceedings, immigrants can be immediately deported unless the government determines they have “credible fear” that they would be persecuted in their home country because of their political views or identity.
On June 12, guards at the Northwest ICE Processing Center in Tacoma told Jerez to get dressed to go to the library, his sister said. When he got there, he learned this would be his official interview about why he’s afraid to return to Cuba — determining whether he’ll get a chance to bring his asylum case.
No one has told Jerez when he’ll learn the result, Cruz said, so she asked ChatGPT.
“It says it takes three to five business days, so I think it would be this week,” Cruz said in a June 17 interview. As of Friday, she was still waiting for news.
Based on Labrador’s experience, it can take up to a month.
If Jerez passes the interview, his lawyers will file a second asylum application. But that wouldn’t prompt Jerez’s release.
“He will have to defend his case in custody, unfortunately,” Labrador said.
Jerez’s mother calls uncertainty “psychological torture” for detainees.
Guards have offered Jerez and other detainees the chance to sign papers consenting to be deported, Cruz said.
“From the time they arrest them, the first thing they say is, ‘Sign this and you’ll go to your home country, or prepare to be detained here for up to two years,’” Cruz said.
Jerez and his family are still trying to understand why the government detained him after he did everything it asked, including attending immigration and court appointments, working and paying taxes.
“He doesn’t have so much as a traffic ticket,” his sister, Vivianne, said.
But they know he’s not alone. On TikTok, they see one woman after another “crying because they took their children or their husbands,” Cruz said.
They know others who voted for Trump, thinking he’d only deport criminals, only to have their loved ones detained too, Cruz added.
“He just wants white Americans who speak English when really Latinos are this country’s main workforce,” she said. “If they said they were going to search for people with criminal records, why are they arresting people who don’t have any kind of criminal record?”
In a recent New York Times interview, Trump’s border czar, Tom Homan, claimed the administration is prioritizing “the worst first” for deportation but acknowledged other immigrants may get swept up in the fray.
“We’re prioritizing public safety threats, people who have committed crimes in this country or who have committed crimes in their home country and came here to hide,” Homan said. “But I’ve also said from Day One, if you’re in the country illegally, you’re not off the table.”
U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement did not respond to questions about Jerez’s detention.
‘A total disaster’
To talk to his family from the Tacoma detention center, Jerez waits his turn to make video calls on a tablet shared by around a dozen detainees.
On those calls, he usually looks sad, Cruz said. She thinks detention has made him depressed.
Labrador also tries to speak with Jerez as often as possible. The conditions at the facility, one of the country’s largest, are “a total disaster,” he said.
“They are sleeping on the ground. They are being moved constantly. They are waking up in the middle of the night for (head) counting,” he said, adding that fights occur regularly and detainees get little to no medical treatment.
But Jerez’s mood was better last Saturday. When he called his family that day, his sister had just returned from protesting the Trump administration at the “No Kings” rally in McFarland, where she’d carried a hand-written sign covered with family photos .
“Freedom for Miguel,” it read. “He is not a criminal. He is a husband, a son and brother.”
He smiled as they showed him photos and told him about the people who approached her to express sympathy or outrage. Some hugged her and cried. Some said they would pray for her brother.
Cruz saved screenshots from that call. In the three weeks since his detention began, Vivianne said, it was the first time she’d seen him looking happy.
Andrew Billmann, the friend her husband met in his taxi years before, protested alongside Vivianne Jerez, carrying a sign that included a QR code with more information about the detention.
During the No Kings protest in McFarland, Andrew Billmann spreads the word about his friend, McFarland resident Miguel Jerez Robles, a Cuban asylum seeker who was detained by immigration officers outside his immigration hearing in Miami. (Ruthie Hauge / The Cap Times)
“This is not someone that snuck in. This is not someone who’s trying to conceal their location. He’s been completely forthcoming from the beginning,” Billmann said in an interview.
Billmann and his wife, Kathy, have helped the family settle in McFarland, find housing, set up bank accounts and stay on top of their immigration paperwork.
“They’ve literally done everything right,” Billmann said. “I helped Miguel get his driver’s license. He’s got a Social Security number, a work permit. This is all as it’s supposed to go.”
Instead, the arrest has upended life for the whole family. Vivianne canceled her June 9 wedding ceremony. That cost the couple $1,000, but they couldn’t stomach trying to celebrate. Their loved ones cried as the couple quietly signed their marriage license at the McFarland apartment they share with her mother.
And now? The family waits.
Vivianne, who worked as a doctor in Cuba, recently finished training to become a U.S. registered nurse. Her graduation photo sits in her living room, but she hasn’t celebrated that feat either. On the coffee table sit the now-shriveled roses Jerez gave his mom for Mother’s Day. She can’t bring herself to throw them out.
On the couch, Cruz sorts through the evidence she’s marshaled as proof of her husband’s good character: the letter from the Madison Police Department saying he had no record with the department, the awards he received from his delivery jobs, the letter in which his boss called him “an exemplary employee” and said he was “praying for his eventual return.”
Geraldine Cruz Dip, Vivianne Jerez and Celeste Robles Chacón discuss the status of their family member, Miguel Jerez Robles, a Cuban immigrant and refugee, who was detained by Immigration and Customs Enforcement officers after a scheduled immigration court hearing in Miami. (Ruthie Hauge / The Cap Times)
Cruz, who drives for the same company, has continued delivering Amazon packages to pay the bills.
Billmann set up a GoFundMe page where community members can donate money to help Cruz cover living expenses while her detained husband can’t work.
If the court gives Jerez another chance at release, she plans to use that money to pay his bond.
“They’re just wonderful, wonderful people,” Billmann said. “It’s just absolutely crazy what they’re putting this family through.”
The story was co-produced by The Cap Times and Wisconsin Watch.
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Led by Dane County, the state’s most-used criminal charge — bail jumping — is becoming far more common, even as crime falls.
Wisconsin is one of seven states that allow prosecutors to file additional charges if people violate a wide range of pretrial release conditions while a case is pending in court.
Some prosecutors say defendants are to blame for the spike, while other attorneys say prosecutors are using the charge to pad the case numbers or as leverage to secure guilty pleas.
Most states issue criminal charges only for a narrower set of violations, resulting in exponentially fewer charges.
Following a decades-long explosion of Wisconsin prosecutors charging people for violating court-ordered rules, defense attorneys and civil rights advocates are raising alarm and calling for new limits on the practice.
Wisconsin is one of seven states that allow prosecutors to file additional charges if people violate a wide range of pretrial release conditions while a case is pending in court. These rules can include avoiding certain places, abstaining from alcohol, taking drug tests or obeying a curfew.
Neighboring Minnesota is among the majority of states that issue criminal charges only for a narrower set of violations, resulting in exponentially fewer charges. But in Wisconsin, the number of charges filed by prosecutors has grown dramatically over the past two decades and has accelerated further in recent years — even as crime rates fell.
Prosecutors filed more than four times as many of these charges in 2024 as they did in 2000, making these violations by far the most common criminal charge in Wisconsin’s courts. The charges appeared in one of every four felony cases opened last year, and one in every seven misdemeanor cases, according to court system reports.
Some prosecutors say defendants are to blame for the spike, while other attorneys say prosecutors are using the charge to pad the case numbers. In funding requests to state lawmakers, prosecutors have long cited growing caseloads — driven in part by violations of release conditions — to justify needing more resources.
Defense attorneys and civil rights advocates say prosecutors are also exploiting Wisconsin’s laws to amp up pressure on people to plead guilty. Under state law, a single violation of release conditions can lead to multiple new charges being filed if the person has multiple cases pending.
Wisconsin’s public defender’s office has struggled for decades to recruit enough staff and private attorneys to take all of its cases. The office argues the growing number of charges related to court-order release conditions is now further exacerbating that challenge.
Deputy State Public Defender Katie York said her office has seen individual cases with dozens of counts — sometimes 70 or more — creating complexity that discourages private attorneys from accepting indigent clients’ cases, which could lighten the load for public defenders.
Michael Rempel, who studies the effectiveness of criminal justice strategies at the John Jay College of Criminal Justice in New York, was stunned to learn from the Cap Times that violating release conditions was the most common charge in Wisconsin. Most states allow these charges only in more limited circumstances.
“I’m shocked,” Rempel said. “It sounds like it would be worth evaluating this practice, and my hypothesis would be that it might have some unintended negative consequences.”
Criminal justice research supports the practice of imposing “intermediate sanctions” on people who violate release conditions, but those sanctions need not be severe, Rempel said. In fact, “overly onerous supervision” can be counterproductive — exposing people to more charges and making them more likely to be charged with a crime again in the future, he said.
In Dane County, prosecutors filed more than twice as many of the charges in 2024 as in 2018. Ismael Ozanne, the county’s district attorney, has defended his office’s increasing use of the charges as an important tool to help keep the community safe. Last year, the county’s prosecutors filed more felony-level charges over release conditions than prosecutors in any other Wisconsin county. That includes Milwaukee County, where the population is about 60% larger.
Dane County District Attorney Ismael Ozanne has defended his office’s increasing use of charges for violating release conditions as an important tool to help keep the community safe. Last year, his office filed more felony-level charges than prosecutors in any other Wisconsin county. Ozanne is shown in his office at the Dane County Courthouse in Madison, Wis., on Feb. 1, 2024. (Ruthie Hauge / Cap Times)
“The real question is, why are people violating their conditions of bail?” Ozanne said. “If someone is violating their bail — basically disregarding the order of the court — how would the community want us to address that?”
Still, Ozanne said he’s open to considering changes. He said Dane County is already evaluating other law enforcement practices through a Community Justice Council, which includes a committee examining pretrial release.
“This topic does come up every so often, and it’s something that we should actually look at,” Ozanne said.
“Are there conditions or things that we can do in the community that may help an individual not violate their bail conditions?” Ozanne added. “But I don’t think we’re in a position to say that they can have no bail conditions.”
‘Racking up felony counts’
In Wisconsin courtrooms, the charge for violating court-ordered release conditions is called “bail jumping.” Though the term may call to mind images of criminals skipping town to evade justice, state law uses a far broader meaning.
In most other states, bail jumping applies only to people missing their court dates. In some states, the law is even narrower, limiting the charge to people who intentionally skip court dates or don’t return to court within a set amount of time.
On the books since 1969, Wisconsin’s law says prosecutors may charge people with felony-level bail jumping for violating release conditions that stemmed from another felony-level charge. They may file misdemeanor-level bail jumping charges for violations related to a misdemeanor case.
From 2020 to 2024, Wisconsin prosecutors filed nearly 250,000bail jumping charges, according to state court system figures. During the same period, Minnesota’s court system reported prosecutors filing 336 charges for failure to appear and 636 charges for willfully disobeying a court mandate, the only potential charges for violating bail conditions in that state.
Elena Kruse, left; Jennifer Bias, middle; and Katie York are leaders of the Wisconsin State Public Defender’s Office. Bias, the agency’s top official, said the growth of criminal charges for violating release conditions is a great overreach by prosecutors. (Beck Henreckson / Cap Times)
York, the Wisconsin public defender, said some of her office’s clients have dozens of pending bail jumping charges. Those charges don’t necessarily send people back to jail or in front of a judge, though.
“You’re not so dangerous that your bail needs to be revoked, but yet you keep on racking up felony counts for either non-criminal behavior or low-level (criminal) behavior,” York said.
In 1998 and 2008, Wisconsin courts twice confirmed that prosecutors may file multiple bail jumping charges for violating the conditions of a single bond — if the defendant violated multiple conditions or had multiple pending cases. Since those rulings, bail jumping charges have proliferated in the state.
In the last three years, Wisconsin prosecutors have filed an average of nearly 50,000 charges a year for misdemeanor or felony bail jumping. That’s about twice the rate of another commonly charged crime in the state: disorderly conduct.
Three years ago, the nonprofit Wisconsin Justice Initiative found that in most of the counties it studied, more than a third of felony cases included at least one bail jumping charge.
‘Weaponizing our statutes’
Amanda Merkwae, advocacy director at the ACLU of Wisconsin, said some court-ordered release conditions are worth enforcing but only in limited situations, like when the conditions aim to protect a victim.
“There is a clear, good public policy reason why that could be a condition of bail,” Merkwae said. “I just wish that … as prosecutors wield the enormous power that they have in making charging decisions under our existing statutes, that those narrowly tailored decisions could be made instead of just weaponizing our statutes into forcing folks to plead to underlying charges they otherwise wouldn’t.”
Defense attorneys say bail jumping charges give prosecutors more leverage to pressure a defendant to plead guilty since the new charges can come with more jail or prison time than the original charges. Under state law, each felony bail jumping conviction may result in up to six years in prison.
“We’ve seen cases where a person goes to trial on the underlying case and gets a not guilty (verdict), but they still are saddled with a felony because of the felony bail jumping,” York said. “That feels inherently unfair, especially when you’re talking about a felony. Now you can’t possess a firearm. Now you have all of the other restrictions that come along with being a felon.”
Bail jumping charges can be easier to prove than underlying charges, depending on the evidence or witnesses needed in the original case. Presented with all their charges, some defendants plead guilty to an underlying charge in exchange for prosecutors dismissing some or all of the bail jumping charges, Ozanne said. In Dane County, more than eight in every 10 bail jumping charges are dismissed.
While about 96% of Dane County criminal cases are resolved by plea deals, Ozanne disputes that bail jumping charges are driving those pleas.
“I think there is, frankly, a high frequency of people accepting responsibility and looking to get on with their lives and hopefully, at some level, looking to repair harm,” he said.
Wisconsin State Public Defender Jennifer Bias disagrees with that view, calling the growth of bail jumping charges “great overreach” by prosecutors.
“They do dismiss an inordinate number of them, but I feel like that’s because they’re charging an inordinate number,” Bias said. “How much work would we take out of the system if we could find a different way to deal with that alleged behavior?”
‘I have not trumped out more bail jumping’
Ozanne disputes that prosecutors are filing more bail jumping charges in an effort to inflate their case counts when requesting funding, a concern raised by the state Legislature’s nonpartisan auditing agency.
“I’ve been indicating that we are understaffed since I took office in 2010. I have not trumped out more bail jumping as an indication … that we need more prosecutors,” Ozanne said. “We don’t have the time to generate more cases just to show that we have a need for bodies.”
Source: Wisconsin Court System (Brandon Raygo / Cap Times)
Ozanne said a more likely reason for the spike in bail jumping charges is the COVID-19 pandemic, which shuttered the county’s courthouse for more than a year and delayed many trials. At the height of the backlog, the average time to resolve a felony case grew to 11 months, nearly twice the average before the pandemic.
Craig Johnson, board president of the Wisconsin Justice Initiative and longtime Wisconsin defense attorney, said Ozanne’s explanation is plausible, though it’s hard to know without examining individual cases.
“It’s somewhat common sense that if a person is out on bail for two years, and it takes that long to get their case resolved, there’s a higher possibility that they will violate a condition of release here or there than if their case is resolved in a shorter period of time,” Johnson said.
Still, he said, the reason could be that prosecutors discovered “a very potent tool.”
“It’s sometimes too good for them to pass up,” Johnson said. “For a prosecutor, it’s a way to make sure that they’re going to bring that case to a close and not have to get contested at a jury trial.”
Bias doesn’t buy Ozanne’s pandemic explanation. She questioned why the number of bail jumping charges would remain at elevated levels in 2023 and 2024 after the court cleared its backlog of cases.
“If that’s true, we would absolutely see the trends going back down,” Bias said.
‘Maybe this isn’t working’
Vernell Cauley and Tyrees Scott have each been charged with multiple bail jumping charges in Dane County. They now work in jobs supporting other formerly incarcerated people and view the surge in charges over release conditions as exploitative.
Cauley is a peer support specialist with EXPO Wisconsin, an advocacy group made up of formerly incarcerated people. Cauley said many people sign release agreements without realizing how many rules they must follow. Cauley said the additional charges were enough in some of his cases to convince him to plead guilty.
“The stack of charges creates the sense of more fear, more thoughts of not being able to get out of the situation,” Cauley said. “It’s a way to keep people oppressed.”
Scott, a peer support specialist with Madison nonprofit Just Dane, said Dane County prosecutors are “notorious” for filing bail jumping cases to pressure defendants.
“When they get to adding up all that time, you get a little nervous and scared so then you’ll take whatever they give you,” Scott said.
The Dane County Courthouse in Madison, Wis., is pictured on Sept. 30, 2024. Wisconsin is one of seven states that allow prosecutors to file additional charges if people violate a wide range of pretrial release conditions while a case is pending in court. (Ruthie Hauge / Cap Times)
For a 2020 report on the rise in bail jumping charges, the Cap Times spoke to a Madison man who, as a teen, racked up around nine bail jumping charges for missing court-ordered appointments or getting caught with drugs. He said he didn’t have a car to get from Stoughton to his appointments, and he wasn’t offered drug treatment until he was later transferred to drug court.
Sometimes the new charges would send him back to jail. Nearly everyone he met in jail had been charged with bail jumping too, he said.
It’s a familiar scenario to York, the deputy state public defender. She said the reason many people violate conditions of their release is because they’re poor, dealing with addiction or don’t have adequate transportation.
“A lot of the bail jumping (charges) stem not from this intentional thwarting of the rules, but from the realities of the place in the world that our clients live in,” York said. “We’re filling up jails and prisons and putting in more roadblocks for our clients to get into a successful place.”
Bail jumping has twice drawn attention from state lawmakers in recent years but led to no changes in state law either time.
In 2019, a bipartisan group of legislators proposed eliminating felony-level bail jumping and reducing the maximum penalty for a misdemeanor bail jumping conviction. The bill would also have limited the charge to intentionally missing a court date, or violating an order to avoid a certain place or person.
Four years later, Republican lawmakers called for setting a minimum bail amount of $5,000 for people previously convicted of bail jumping. That legislation followed a high-profile attack in Waukesha. A man who had been previously charged with bail jumping plowed his SUV into the city’s Christmas parade, killing six.
Neither the bipartisan bill nor the Republican legislation gained enough support to pass the Legislature. In the coming months, the Legislature will be back in Madison debating the state’s next two-year budget, including how much funding toallocate for prosecutors and public defenders.
York said she’s holding out hope that state lawmakers could one day narrow the scope of bail jumping to reduce how often it’s filed or reduce the severity of charges.
“It’s probably costing taxpayers a lot of money to do all of these additional prosecutions,” York said. “So I’m hopeful that people will realize maybe this isn’t working and we need to rethink it.”
When John Gross, a professor at the University of Wisconsin Law School, learned about the Wisconsin law that’s driven a surge in criminal charges over the past two decades, he was bewildered.
State law allows Wisconsin prosecutors to file felony- or misdemeanor-level charges against people for violating a wide range of court-ordered release conditions while cases are ongoing. In most other states, prosecutors may file similar charges only in much narrower circumstances.
Years before moving to Wisconsin to lead a public defender training program at the state’s flagship university, Gross worked as a public defender in New York City from 1999 to 2006. He said charges like the ones being filed regularly in Wisconsin were completely foreign to him.
“I usually had about 100-plus cases at any one time, and I never, ever had a bail jumping charge filed,” Gross said, referring to the statutory name of the charges. “Prosecutors would not use that as a law enforcement tool.”
In the past five years alone, Wisconsin prosecutors have filed bail jumping charges about 250,000 times, according to state court system figures. Over the past decade, bail jumping has become by far the most commonly charged crime in the state.
“I was very surprised that this charge existed in the form that it exists, and it was being wielded the way it was by prosecutors,” Gross said.
New York law restricts bail jumping charges to situations where people fail to appear in court within 30 days after their assigned court dates. Although New York eliminated cash bail for many cases in 2019, people released before trial are often still subject to court-ordered conditions. Violating those conditions doesn’t lead to new criminal charges, however, unless the person violates a court order to avoid another person. That offense is categorized as criminal contempt of court.
“Most criminal law and procedure across the country is pretty standardized. … You’ll find the same crimes, but they might have a slightly different name or number attached to them,” Gross said. “So I do take notice when I hit on something where I’m like, ‘Oh, that’s not how other people do it.’”
Seven states criminalize violations of release conditions other than failure to appear, according to the National Conference of State Legislatures, a bipartisan organization made up of state legislators. Joining Wisconsin in that group are Alaska, Colorado, Connecticut, Delaware, Illinois and Maine.
It’s unclear how often similar charges are filed by Wisconsin’s southern neighbor. Illinois’ courts system doesn’t publish caseload figures like Wisconsin courts or Minnesota courts that track how often prosecutors are filing certain charges.
Rachele Conant, a public defender in Kane County, Illinois, has practiced law in her state for nearly 30 years. In Illinois, she said, a person can be charged with a misdemeanor for violating conditions of release even though the state eliminated cash bail in 2023. Often, Conant said, multiple violations will result in a single charge.
That’s a different practice than Wisconsin public defenders describe happening here. In Wisconsin, prosecutors may file multiple charges stemming from a single violation if people have multiple pending cases where release conditions apply.
Conant said she sees bail jumping charges regularly but hasn’t seen statistics on how often those charges are filed in Illinois. Sometimes the charges can make clients more likely to plead guilty if they mean having to wait in jail until trial, she said.