Messenger: A song idea for St. Louis rapper Nelly about the scales of American justice
ST. LOUIS — Nelly should write a song about his recent legal entanglement.
The song shouldn't be about what happened to him, but about less famous people who end up in his exact situation. By now you've likely read about what happened to the world-famous rapper and entertainer from St. Louis. Nelly, who's given name is Cornell Hayes II, was arrested at the Hollywood Casino & Hotel St. Louis in Maryland Heights in August.
While the 49-year-old was collecting his winnings from a night of gambling, a state patrolman at the casino decided to run Nelly's name through a criminal database. The trooper said it was standard procedure. Maybe so. Or maybe he recognized Nelly. Or maybe he had other motivations. Whatever the case, the trooper found an outstanding warrant for Nelly. It stemmed from a 2018 case for driving without insurance in which Nelly missed a court date.
The trooper handcuffed the rap star and searched him, allegedly finding four ecstasy pills. He arrested Nelly on suspicion of felony drug possession.
This week, St. Louis County Prosecutor Wesley Bell announced he was dropping the charges , agreeing with Nelly's defense attorney, Scott Rosenblum, that the "facts of the case" don't warrant any charges.
Nelly's free. His record is clean.
That's not what happened to Jean Polly-Mitchell back in 2015. Nelly's new song should be about Polly-Mitchell. He could call it "The Ballad of Miss Jean."
Miss Jean, as she was called, was born in Columbus, Ohio, and spent much of her youth growing up on the streets of Compton, south of Los Angeles. That's where she developed her love of the Los Angeles Lakers. She lived much of her adult life in north St. Louis County, where she was a grandmotherly figure to many people.
In 2015, her husband, Reginald, died of leukemia. That year, during a traffic stop, Miss Jean was arrested on an old traffic warrant she hadn't cleared up. It's a common issue in a county where, a decade ago, municipalities were infamous for using their police departments and courts as revenue generators. During a search, police found a single Oxycodone pill in Miss Jean's car. She was charged with felony drug possession.
This was a year after the protests in Ferguson. Nelly marched there . Some of the folks he marched with had court experiences similar to Miss Jean.
Miss Jean was handcuffed and went to jail. At the time, she lived on $800 a month in disability, which is to say she couldn't afford to bail out of jail or call a prominent attorney like Rosenblum to represent her. Eventually, attorney Michael-John Voss, one of the founders of the nonprofit law firm ArchCity Defenders, decided to represent her. She got her bail reduced and got out of jail.
But her ordeal didn't end there.
In 2017, Voss was working to clean up Miss Jean's old warrants, while also fighting the felony drug charge. At a hearing in April, his client didn't show up. Voss called family members and found out Miss Jean had become ill and was in the hospital in a coma. The prosecutor asked the judge to issue a warrant for her arrest. The judge declined. A few days later, Miss Jean died.
I attended her funeral at the Valhalla Funeral Chapel and Crematory. Her coffin was draped in her beloved Lakers colors of purple and gold. Some family members wore the team's jerseys.
Miss Jean was celebrated as somebody who would do anything for those around her, even when she was facing struggles herself. "She was jolly for no reason at all," one of her friends told me after the funeral.
I bet Nelly would have liked Miss Jean.
The juxtaposition of their two cases says a lot about the criminal justice system. For people who live in poverty — whether in north St. Louis County or rural Missouri — the system too often punishes those who can't afford bail, or can't pay fines and fees that are stacked upon each other. Many can't keep up the insurance on their vehicles or afford an attorney who strikes fear in the prosecuting attorney's office.
One arrest, caused by an outstanding warrant, can lead to a questionable search and a felony charge with devastating consequences.
Not for Nelly, of course. I'm glad his legal situation, which seems minor in the scheme of things, has been resolved. But I hope he spends a little time thinking about Miss Jean and the people like her who tell a story about the scales of American justice being out of balance.
Metro columnist
