Cell phones in the bushes?

Some people may have hid them before entering courthouse

By Jeff Wiehe

By Steve Linsenmayer of The News-Sentinel No cell phones are allowed in the Allen County Courthouse or the Bud Meeks Justice Center as of the new year.

Jerry Noble heard a funny story at the Allen County Courthouse on Tuesday. He couldn't validate it, but it's what security guards and others milling about near the entryway were saying.

There were cell phones ringing in the bushes.

People entering the courthouse were no longer allowed to bring in cell phones or electronic devices as of Tuesday. Officials were not providing a place to store the cell phones. If you had one, it had to disappear before you got your foot in the door, so why not stow the phone in the bushes in front of the building?

Noble, court executive, made regular visits at courthouse entrances to see how many people couldn't come in because of the ban, which is intended to increase security. Many cell phones have cameras that could take photos of jurors and witnesses. Noble said there weren't many people turned away, though he didn't have an exact figure.

"It's been better than I expected," said Noble at about 9:30 a.m., after the usual 8 a.m. court rush. "There have been some issues, but … it's gone really well. We expected a few more problems."

At the Bud Meeks Justice Center, where misdemeanor and traffic ticket cases generally are taken care of, it seemed to be a different story. The center was packed after a long weekend, and officials said "a whole lot" of people were turned away. Some said it could have been 50 to 100 people in the morning. When asked how many people had tried to come into the building with cell phones, despite a large sign notifying everyone they were not allowed, a security guard said, "A lot."

People would walk up to the building, see the sign, dig in their pockets, notice they had their phone and either curse or shake their head before turning around and going back to wherever they came from. Others had to decide what to do with their phones if they didn't have cars to put them in.

Barbara Vaughn, of Poneto, came to the center with another person who had to appear in court. She had no idea about the ban, but needed to go into the center for just a few minutes. She asked Vivian McCart, of Harlan, waiting in the building's foyer for a ride, to hold her pink phone. The two had never met, much less exchanged names. "She had a trusting face," Vaughn said.

"I figured after she'd feel funny about it after she went in," said McCart, laughing. When Vaughn came back, there was McCart, still waiting. Later, the strangers found something in common from the exchange – they both worked in hospitals.