8 OctOber 23– 29, 2025 dallasobserver.com DALLAS OBSERVER Classified | MusiC | dish | Culture | unfair Park | Contents who was found guilty in the death of her daughter and was the first woman of Latino descent to be sentenced to death in Texas before she was granted a stay in 2022; and Roberson, whose third execution attempt was scheduled for Oct. 16, 2025, before a court paused the sentence. Roberson’s case, especially, has garnered an unusual amount of attention because of the widespread belief that he is innocent. The death of Roberson’s young daughter was argued to be caused by “shaken baby syndrome,” which, at the time of the prose- cution, indicated child abuse but now falls under the supposed “junk science” defini- tion that state law says should be enough to grant a retrial. Roberson also fell under suspicion due to his sullen demeanor at the time of his daughter’s death, something that experts say can be attributed to his post-trial autism diagnosis. Even the lead detective who in- vestigated Roberson has since recanted his stance, asking the state to grant clemency to the man who has spent 22 years on death row. “I think Robert’s case shines a spotlight on the most egregious flaw of the death pen- alty, that it makes mistakes,” said Cuellar, the director of TCADP. The legal thriller novelist John Grisham is writing a book about Roberson’s case, and NBC News’ Lester Holt has released a pod- cast exploring the controversy. Last year, Roberson was scheduled to be executed on Oct. 17, and instead spent “hours” alone and praying, out of the loop as the litigators ar- gued back and forth over whether he could, or couldn’t, be killed. The effort to save Roberson was notably bipartisan, spearheaded by Democratic state Rep. Joe Moody and the North Texas Re- publican state Rep. Jeff Leach, who staved off the execution by issuing a subpoena for Roberson to appear before the Texas House Committee on Criminal Jurisprudence. Cuellar said that since 2019, the death pen- alty abolition movement has seen notable progress in the Texas House, passing bills related to due process and strengthening the junk science law that many believe failed in the Roberson case. Many of those bills, though, have died in the Texas Senate. Prior to a stay being granted in Rober- son’s case, Gloria Rubac told the Observer that, as each day passed, she felt herself growing more anxious about his impending death. The ability for people to hear person- ally from an individual on death row, such as Roberson, is crucial for humanizing the men whose lives hang in the balance, she be- lieves. That’s how it happened for her, at least. After being introduced by Clarence Bradley, she became close friends with Carlos San- tana, a Dominican man who was executed in 1993 for being an accomplice in a fatal, mil- lion-dollar holdup, although he was not the one who committed the murder. According to a report by The New York Times, his final words were, “Love is the answer, not ha- tred.” What Rubac remembers, though, are his final words to her. In his last hours, she stood 10 feet apart from him, separated by a theater curtain. At the time, the victim’s families were not yet welcomed into the death chamber, and his wife had returned to the Dominican Republic years before. “He had no family or friends” in the United States, besides Rubac. “We were talking and talking and talking, and then the warden said, ‘Time’s up.’ And (Carlos) said, ‘Well, Gloria, before I die, just promise me one thing. That you’ll never stop fighting the death penalty,’” she recalls. “And I said, ‘Carlos, I promise.’ And I keep prom- ises.” After his execution, she had nightmares for a year. Rubac has thought of Santana at every execution she has attended for the last 32 years. Some days it gets easier. Some days it doesn’t. But she has never wavered in her belief that Texas doesn’t have the right to kill. According to the Death Penalty Informa- tion Center, Texas has one execution sched- uled so far for 2026. Rubac is sure to be there. “A couple of days ago, when I got off the interstate and turned into Huntsville, I just got this horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach,” Rubac said. “I just felt sick. And I thought, ‘God, I look forward to the day where I will never have to go to Huntsville again.’” ▼ POLICE MO’ MONEY, MO’ COPS DALLAS POLICE BLOW PAST HIRING GOALS. BY ALYSSA FIELDS S taring down the barrel of the gun, the Dallas Police Department has not only met but also exceeded its re- cruitment goals. The feat, celebrated by the city’s council, was made possible through a strategic blitz hiring effort with lowered minimum application requirements and an- nual bonus incentives. Between September 2024 and October 2025, the department was tasked with hir- ing 300 new officers; they welcomed an ad- ditional 30 more than needed, according to Jordan Colunga, deputy chief of police, in the Tuesday Public Safety Committee brief- ing. DPD has made a concerted effort to re- cruit, touring across the country to poach officers from other cities, rolling out a high- paying referral program, and honing the de- partment’s brand. “DPD has a lot to offer,” Colunga said. “This is the big league. This isn’t JV. This is varsity ball here. If you want to come and be a cop and you want to learn how to be a cop, this is the place to come. I think as we con- tinue to push that and we sell our narrative of who we are, we sell our brand as far as who we are, people want to be a part of that.” A controversial proposition for an amendment to the city charter that nar- rowly passed in the November 2024 election requires the city to increase its total force to 4,000. A separate proposition allows resi- dents to sue the city for failing to comply with the city charter. Dallas HERO, a public safety-oriented nonprofit instrumental in the passage of both propositions, has threat- ened to sue the city unless it meets the offi- cer metric goals within the next two years. Since then, the city has faced a steep uphill battle to recruit and retain new officers as fast as possible, pouring resources into at- tracting potential officers to Big D. In their efforts, the department says they visited 38 states, 94 schools and colleges and attended 247 community and career events. In September, the department celebrated the second-largest graduating officer class in history, with 76 new officers assigned. That is double the number of new officers who graduated into the force in November 2024. But it’s not just recruitment that’s up. Applications also increased 52% in the last fiscal year. Over the summer, the depart- ment axed its college degree requirements, significantly widening its applicant pool. As more officers are sworn in, fewer officers are leaving the force, with attrition reducing year-over-year. “We’re creating a culture that our officers can go out there and catch bad guys and help make this the safest city in America,” said Colunga. “That’s from the top down, as we keep pushing that, people want to stay.” Police recruitment and retention have long been a challenge for a revolving door of city council members and police chiefs alike; therefore, the current committee was eager to congratulate the department. “We’re always really pushing and press- ing on you to continue doing the good work you are,” said committee Chair Cara Men- delsohn. “But you’ve made some really fun- damental changes in how you do recruiting, and it’s paying off, so thank you so much for that hard work.” Show Them The Money An effective technique to attract more boys to the blue is to show them the green. “We did a really neat campaign where our first officer was paid out in mid-summer,” said Colunga. “We got one of those big, giant checks and took a picture and promoted it. After that, I think that really sent the message to the officers that this is real money that could come to you if you participate. Now we’re seeing the fruits of that labor.” In October, the city says it increased the starting pay to $81,232, roughly a $6,000 in- crease, to increase recruitment efforts. The department also launched a referral program last year. Officers who refer a candidate are eligible to receive up to $5,000 in phased bo- nuses as the referred candidate achieves milestones. If a candidate remains on the force for three years, the referrer receives a $3,000 bonus. There is no limit to the num- ber of candidates that an officer can refer. Referrals have reportedly doubled since the program’s launch. “I’m very happy,” said Mendelsohn. “We’ve only had the incentive program in place for one year. I think as time goes on, this is going to really show out, especially when those three-year checks start going out. It’s going to make people really, really take notice.” Where Do You Put 76 Recruits? Like public safety affairs, increased re- cruitment is a double-edged sword. With more students, you have to find more classrooms, and the department and the city are in yet another years-long battle to solve that issue. “I want to just congratulate and applaud DPD for exceeding their hiring goals,” said Mayor Pro Tem Jesse Moreno. “I know that there were some members on council who were trying to go through a higher thresh- old, and I think this proves that we can achieve those numbers. I do know that one of the concerns was the lack of classroom space, so help me understand how we’re able to handle 76 recruits at one given time.” A law enforcement training center has been scheduled to be built on the University of North Texas Dallas campus since 2021, but not without significant community pushback and a few plan changes. City Man- ager Kimberly Bizor Tolbert is expected to finalize the deal this week, following the lease agreement signed earlier this year. However, the facility won’t open until 2028. Still, Assistant Chief of Police Israel Herrera says it’s a good problem to have if it means retention is up. “What we’re having to do is to get cre- ative with the spaces that we do have,” said Herrera. “... We’re getting really creative. We’re not quite busting out, but we’re get- ting close, and that’s a good problem.” Unfair Park from p6 Jordan Maddox A protestor holds a sign in Huntsville on Oct. 17, 2024 when Robert Roberson was scheduled to be executed.
