From an injured dog to speeders and drug dealers, magistrate court sees it all

Megan and Andrew Oxford have a problem — they’re out $1,663 — and they’re hoping a Richland County magistrate will fix it.

The money went toward medical expenses for the couple’s Boston Terrier, Girlie. Like most families with dogs, they love Girlie.

“She’s almost like a human,” Andrew Oxford says. “You tell her something to do and she knows what you’re saying.”

In December, the couple said they heard Girlie whimper from the backyard and looked out to find her being attacked by two other dogs. Girlie’s right leg was in one dog’s jaws, and the other dog was biting her.

The Oxfords say the dogs who attacked Girlie were under the watch of a neighbor, Timothy Atkins, and they broke through the Oxfords’ fence to get to her. The couple want Atkins to pay Girlie’s $1,663 medical bill, which they say includes charges for X-rays, stitches and an overnight stay at the veterinarian.

But Atkins said the Oxfords can’t prove what dogs attacked Girlie, and it’s the Oxfords’ fault that the dogs broke through their fence. Plus, the colors of the attacking dogs provided by the Oxfords don’t match the color of Atkins’ dogs, he said.

In June, the Oxfords and Atkins went to Richland County magistrate’s court to fight over who should pay the medical bill. For the judges there, it was just one of dozens of cases heard that day at the central Magistrate Court on Decker Boulevard.

The cases ranged from a speeding teenager and Girlie’s injuries to a stolen purse and a man accused of hiding illegal drugs throughout his house, including in a microwave. The county’s magistrate system is responsible for resolving traffic charges, deciding relatively minor disputes between citizens, determining whether enough evidence exists for some major criminal cases to be sent to circuit court, and managing other legal issues.

On June 12 and 13, The State spent two days at magistrate’s court to chronicle the wide range of cases heard.

One judge, Caroline Streater, explained the rules of the courtroom and how the accusers and the accused are to address each other .

“Anything you’ve seen in Judge Judy, that’s not how this works,” says Streater.

The lucky and unlucky in preliminary hearings

Among the criminal cases handled that day by Judge George Andy Surles was a charge against “Gator,” who came to the attention of narcotics investigators with the Richland County Sheriff’s Department after someone reported that a man was selling crack cocaine in the Monticello Road area near Eau Claire High School.

The narcotics team sent a “CI,” their abbreviation for a confidential informant, to make a “controlled buy” of crack from “Gator.” The informant wore a hidden microphone while making the buy.

With information provided by the informant and a subsequent investigation, deputies obtained a search warrant for Gator’s house, where they said they found crack cocaine and marijuana, an officer testified. “Gator” admitted to cooking crack and selling it, the officer said. Surles sent the case to circuit court.

A search warrant in an unrelated case uncovered a gun stuffed in a couch, crack cocaine in a microwave, and “green plant material” in a toilet. The green stuff was suspected to be cannabis but lab test results weren’t in.

In another case, an unlucky woman faced theft charges after a purse was stolen from a Chuck E Cheese parking lot near St. Andrews Road. The victim had left an iPad in the purse, and she simply used an app to determine the iPad was in a nearby Papa Johns pizza restaurant. The victim gave officers the iPad’s location, and the device was found - along with the purse.

Police said they found two bags inside the suspect’s purse, both containing methamphetamine.

The case was sent to circuit court.

One man was luckier. He showed up — on his birthday — for a preliminary hearing on a charge of driving under suspension, but the officer was a no-show. Surles dismissed the charged.

“Happy birthday,” he told the man.

A judge’s life

In 1982, the Blythewood Magistrate’s office faced something of a crisis. The judge retired, and the court hadn’t been functioning for nearly six months. Some people thought the office might close, and that wouldn’t be good for a small town that at the time was declining in population.

So a group of townsfolk approached Mel Maurer, a former Blythewood mayor and town councilman, and asked if he would consider the job.

“I said well, ‘we’ll see,’ and next thing I knew I was a magistrate,” Maurer remembers. “I thought it was good for the community if I could be a magistrate and keep the office from closing. I’d do it for a few years then I’d move on.”

A few years turned into a nearly four-decade career. Now Maurer, at 72, has hit the mandatory retirement age for judges in South Carolina. Despite staying in the robe until the very end, he’s ready for his golden years.

Since 1988, Maurer has worked as the Dutch Fork district magistrate, which has the highest caseload of all the district magistrate courts in Richland County, according to him. He handles more than 7,000 cases a year, which include every case at the magistrate level in western Richland County along with certain specialized cases.

On Tuesdays, he’s working civil cases like landlord and tenant disputes; on Wednesdays, he oversees jury trials in criminal cases; and Thursdays are for pleadings in criminal cases such as shoplifting.

When you add in time spend reviewing cases and managing his office, Maurer’s job can be hectic.

“It was 25 years since I took two weeks consecutive vacation,” Maurer says.

As Maurer prepares to retire, some friends have spoken with University of South Carolina about him teaching a magistrate court class to law school students. But he’s got other plans too.

“I’m going to fish more, hunt more, visit my kids a lot more,” Maurer says.

After nearly 40 years on the bench, he’s learned a few things about people.

“You learn there’s a lot of good people in the world that get in a bad situation with just one bad decision, and you learn some people just can’t make good decisions.”

The diversity of traffic court

Most people encounter magistrate court through traffic tickets.

Traffic court is the most boring aspect of magistrate court. The day begins with those who want to plead guilty to traffic offenses appearing before court staff and law enforcement officers.

On the morning The State visited the court, people with traffic tickets sat on the pew-like benches in various states of waking up. A 20-something looks like he just rolled out of bed and put on the shorts and long sleeve tee that sat on the floor. His hair is shaggy and a cap sits on his knee. Where a pew meets a wall, a dapper man reclines in his matching tan slacks and shirt, leaning on his forearm with a distant look in his eyes.

The charges are standard — speeding, littering, not yielding the right of way. But the diversity of traffic court is not in the crimes but the individuals who populate the room.

A teenager pleads guilty to his first traffic violation and fills out papers while his mother in a floral top stands over him, watching what her son’s writing with a maternal look of disappointment and protection. A worker in his reflective shirt is told by an officer what his crime will cost him. Both the son and the worker have a look that says “there’s no getting out of this one.” Traffic court is a great equalizer of South Carolinians.

On this day most of those pleading guilty go before Richland County Deputy Dave Kopenmayer. His presence is like a bottle rocket going off in a library. He calls up people he ticketed in a volume of voice that no citizen dares to match.

Kopenmayer jokes aloud that the teenager who’s in for their first time is going to have to work off what he cost his mother this summer.

When a woman who was doing 71 mph in a 60 mph zone comes up to Kopenmayer, she pleads guilty with an exasperated sigh. Kopenmayer gives her advice on a defensive driver class that will knock some disciplinary points off her driving record and lower her insurance premium.

He scolds another woman who got in a crash while driving 73 mph in a 50 mph zone. “You get in a crash going that fast, I’m usually coming to a door and saying you’re never coming home again.”

She forgets some paperwork, and Kopenmayer calls her back over, saying, “You’re welcome, hon.”

Those who want to challenge the tickets wait for the magistrate to convene court.

What happened to Girlie?

The tango between the Oxfords and the Atkins over Girlie’s veterinarian bill is finished.

Streater rules that while the color of the dogs described by the Oxfords weren’t an exact match with Atkins’ dogs, the description was close enough for the dark conditions of the attack. She rules in the Oxfords’ favor and orders Atkins pay $1,663 to Girlie’s owners.

After the trial, Atkins said he’d appeal. In his first trip to Magistrate Court he realized this: “What you’ll hear is one side thinks they got all the answers.”

In this court, the magistrate usually has the final answers. For some, the answers only create heartbreak or triumph. For others, the consequences are hefty fines or years in prison.

For the Oxfords, the stakes didn’t involve a prison sentence. Even if they hadn’t won, Girlie is healthy and happy now and that’s the true victory.

“She bounced back just fine,” Megan Oxford said. “She’s a Boston Terrier so she’s got energy for days.”

This story was originally published July 15, 2018 at 7:51 AM.