In Atlanta, single mother Priscilla Grim, aspiring writer Julia Dupuis, and geography researcher Hannah Kass find themselves entangled in legal troubles, affecting both their personal and career aspirations. They are among 61 individuals accused by Georgia’s Republican Attorney General, Chris Carr, of engaging in a lengthy racketeering plot to stop the construction of a controversial police and firefighter training facility outside Atlanta, dubbed “Cop City” by critics.
These cases are in a state of limbo over a year-and-a-half after being charged under Georgia’s Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organizations law, or RICO. Experts claim this may be the largest criminal racketeering case against protestors in U.S. history. Despite the plan for trials to begin last year, proceedings have been delayed due to procedural complications and a change in judges, resulting in a status hearing set for Wednesday.
Facing charges that could lead to 20 years of imprisonment, these defendants argue their actions constituted legitimate protest rather than acts of domestic terrorism. This case has curbed a movement of activists who aimed to protect a forested area that was eventually cleared for the $118 million project, now completed over 34 hectares (85 acres).
Officials defend the project, arguing it’s needed to update facilities and improve officers’ morale. Opponents, however, warn it could lead to more militarized policing and could worsen environmental issues in a predominantly Black area. Protests grew in intensity following the death of Manuel Esteban Paez Terán, or Tortuguita, killed in 2023 when police attempted to clear the area where he was camping. Authorities stated he shot and injured a trooper before being killed, but an independent autopsy suggested he had his hands raised when shot. Yet, a prosecutor deemed the officers’ use of force as “objectively reasonable.”
Handling such a large indictment is complex. Former Georgia prosecutor Chris Timmons mentions that although a case of this magnitude could take time to schedule, he’s surprised at the lack of urgency from the prosecution. “Cases age like milk, not like wine,” Timmons remarked, emphasizing that the longer a case takes, the more likely evidence and witness reliability may degrade.
Michael Mears, a law professor at Atlanta’s John Marshall Law School, noted that prosecuting so many people simultaneously rather than focusing on the leadership was a strategic error. The decision to drop money laundering charges against some alleged leaders suggests weaknesses in the case, compounded by a diminishing public interest in pursuing the protestors.
For the accused, like Julia Dupuis, these delays have put their lives on hold. Dupuis, a 26-year-old residing in Massachusetts, was charged in 2023 with felony intimidation for distributing anti-police flyers after her friend’s death. Banned from Georgia, she struggles to stay motivated in her freelance work to make rent, yearning for the activist community left behind.
Priscilla Grim, 51, resented waiting and sought a speedy trial to clear her name. Based in New York, she survives on donations and odd jobs while dealing with unemployment and strained by injury. Facing movement charges, Grim recalls being involuntarily swept into the events at a festival-turned-protest, but lost job opportunities due to her “domestic terrorist” label.
Hannah Kass, 32, describes herself as both an academic and an activist. She faces charges from a 2022 protest, insisting her involvement was part of a research method known as “participant observation.” Her university has shown support, but she remains concerned about potential future employers’ reactions.
These individuals and others have declined plea deals, maintaining their right to demonstrate and advocate for their causes. They remain hopeful for resolution and vindication amid the ongoing legal uncertainty.