Ride to the can
Jahmal Hatchette is a vandal, a thief — and a disaster of disguise. During one crime shift in the subway, Hatchette tried to conceal his true identity by wearing a fur-lined woman’s coat. He kept the hood up and sported an oversize pair of glasses.
For another felonious outing, Hatchette went urban Arafat: leather jacket belted at the middle, a scarf draped over his head.
“He tried all sorts of things to cover his face: a hoodie, a baseball hat, skycap, big glasses, sunglasses, a lot of fishermen’s hats,” said a law enforcement source. He was very aware there were cameras around. He just thought he was concealing his identity.”
That thinking was as flawed as his fashion choices.
Based on video images, NYPD Transit Bureau police in January 2014 charged Hatchette with first-degree tampering for jamming Metro Card vending machines at the Utica Ave. subway station in Crown Heights, Brooklyn. He did it at least 14 times, authorities charged.
Hatchette is a “swiper,” a subterranean scammer who disables MetroCard vending machines. Typically this is done by stuffing a bent card or a piece of paper into the bill slot. Riders then have a choice: stand in the growing line at the one staffed token booth, which could be a block away, or buy an illegal swipe through the turnstiles. Good times.
Hatchette pleaded guilty to felony tampering in May. He was released from jail after promising to return for sentencing in July.
He must have missed his train. He never showed up.
Police arrested him again at the same station in November after he sold an illegal swipe to an undercover officer, police said. Based on more video, prosecutors charged Hatchette with 26 more counts of first-degree tampering.
The MTA spends about $8 million a year sending mechanics to fix machines that are repeatedly jammed. It costs another $2 million or so in revenues lost to swipers, the authority estimates. The price riders pay in frustration and delays is measured in curses, not dollars.
Hatchette is now on Rikers Island awaiting resentencing in the first case. He also has the second set of charges hanging over his head.
Theoretically, just one count of first-degree tampering is punishable by up to seven years in state prison. Judges, however, never go near that territory.
Seven years may indeed be too severe for such a nonviolent crime. But if Utica Ave. was my home station, I wouldn’t be overly upset if Hatchette were placed for a few years into the care and custody of the state, which provides prisoners with three hots, a cot and just one outfit: hunter green overalls.