‘93 stalking laws gets a workout in Nevada

Bill Gang

Saturday, July 19, 1997 | 11:34 a.m.

One person's obsession with another often is portrayed in books and movies as a romantic saga of the passionate pursuit of true love.

That's fine if the ones pursued don't mind the attention. If they do mind, it's not romance, it's stalking.

And stalking, at the darkest end, is the terror and death portrayed in the movie "Fatal Attraction," although death isn't confined to movie scripts.

Oddly, it wasn't until the past few years that lawmakers across much of the nation addressed stalking as more than a minor indiscretion. In the past, it was handled as a "family problem" or a misdemeanor.

In 1993, the Nevada Legislature took action amid tales of terror, violence and death.

Metro Police believe the stalking of 47-year-old Elfie Dennis and her new boyfriend, John Ludvigson, 37, escalated into a bloody confrontation that left them dead two weeks ago in an apartment off Blue Diamond Road.

Her husband, 48-year-old Lonnie Dennis, is facing double murder charges.

Lazaro Hernandez, 49, was on trial last week on charges that he pursued his estranged wife to the employee parking lot at the Excalibur hotel-casino in a jealous but calculated rage and shot her and the man who was giving her a ride to work.

Anna Hernandez survived two bullet wounds in the May 1996 attack but Cevano Ramirez died from the four shots he suffered as he shielded the woman from the barrage of 9 mm bullets.

Since the stalking law was passed, the number of felony stalking convictions has grown from 17 in 1994 to 21 in 1995 to 22 in 1996. Already in 1997, 18 felony stalkers have been convicted, according to statistics from the district attorney's office.

"For some, stalking is a way of life, a way to control," said Deputy District Attorney Abbi Silver.

While the stalking law has been a welcome tool, Silver said it isn't perfect and the punishment is insufficient in some cases.

Still, stalking laws offer some hope of peace for those terrorized by the ones who follow them, phone them incessantly, threaten their lives and leave subtle or not-so-subtle evidence of their obsessions.

Silver conceded that each act of stalking by itself is "not a major crime, but when we see the big picture, the victims are being terrorized."

It is that greater course of conduct the stalking laws are designed to identify and punish.

Before stalking became illegal, victims were forced to file a series of misdemeanor complaints and prosecutors "looked on them as being almost more trouble than they were worth," Silver said.

Stalking now can be a gross misdemeanor -- punishable by up to a year in jail -- if there is a violation of a protective order, or a felony -- carrying a one- to six-year prison term -- if things get out of hand.

But some stalkers simply aren't deterred by the law. It's not unusual to hear of a stalker, already behind bars for his acts, continuing to pursue his or her obsession through a phone in the jail.

Silver said one man vowed to his victim: "I don't care if I'm in the deepest, darkest jail, I will never stop loving you or calling you."

For some stalkers, Silver explained, the laws designed to stop them actually can push them over the edge.

Anna Hernandez had obtained a temporary protective order just four days before being shot.

Sandy Johnson did the same thing after breaking up with her boyfriend in 1996 and enduring his persistent threats. Jeff Switzer actually had been jailed on a felony stalking charge and was free on bail when he went to her home, shot her to death and burned the mobile home. He then killed himself.

"When victims get a TPO, I always tell them it's just a piece of paper," Silver said. "It has a deterrent effect on some, depending on the individual, but generally not for a very long period of time."

One of Silver's complaints is that the "standard bail" on a felony stalking charge is only $3,000 -- less than for many nonviolent crimes -- and often easily posted by defendants.

"In my experience, very rarely do stalkers stop stalking if they are given bail," she said.

Once the case gets to court, bail is often increased by judges who can't forget Switzer's actions after he got out of jail, although his bail actually had been elevated to $50,000.

Even Silver admitted she had been happy with that bail setting and didn't anticipate his deadly reaction.

"I didn't see that one coming," she lamented. "It was sad."

While persistence in the face of criminal charges may be the way for some stalkers, defense attorney Steve Wolfson said he doesn't believe that is the case for most.

He said the stalking laws "shake a stalker into understanding that there are serious consequences ... and that they aren't accomplishing anything."

Another concern Silver has with the existing felony stalking law is that the six-year maximum sentence isn't long enough to ensure a victim's long-term safety.

The maximum sentence would allow a stalker to seek parole after serving 2 1/2 years.

Silver told of a woman who repeatedly stalked her ex-boyfriend despite drawing a string of jail terms of up to a year at a time.

"It didn't stop her," Silver said, noting that the woman obtained her ex-boyfriend's Social Security number and used it to have his boat towed and to order flowers at his expense.

Silver said the woman never could be charged with felony stalking because of what she considers another glitch in the law -- the requirement that there be a threat to kill or to inflict substantial bodily harm to raise the stalking to the felony level.

But defense attorney Steve Wolfson said he believes such a requirement is an "appropriate distinction."

"Telephone calls or driving by a house shouldn't raise it to the felony stage," he said.