Britain's "Release"

The twelve color photos showed a statuesque nude who had been gilded to look like the latest victim of Goldfinger. The spread appeared two years ago in the British magazine Mayfair. Today, recalling her youthful display, 23-year-old Caroline Coon says casually, "It's not the sort of image for a social worker, is it?" For Caroline is now a golden girl of another sort. As one of the organizers of a legal-aid agency called "Release," she has become a protector of youthful British drug addicts and pot users who are in trouble with the law.

Founded by Caroline and a former art student named Rufus Harris, Release puts accused violators of Britain's narcotics laws in touch with lawyers and arranges for bail. From a four-room flat in London's Netting Hill Gate section, a staff of Release volunteers provides around-the-clock assistance. The agency advertises its phone number in the hippie press and at rallies organized to promote the legalizing of pot. It also circulates cards with advice to suspects. Example: "Request that any property taken from you is packaged and sealed in your presence," and "Be polite to police officers."

The Inarticulate Ones. In its first two years, Release has handled more than 2,000 cases. In more than 85% of them, it has helped bring about the release of defendants awaiting trial. More important, the agency has battled to secure representation for youthful suspects. Indigents have the right to free counsel in Britain, but only at the discretion of the court--and sometimes they are denied that right when minor drug charges are involved. Release helps the accused apply for court-appointed counsel. But it also calls on five of its own solicitors who have compiled an impressive--if not universally welcomed--record. New Society, an influential sociological magazine, reports that not one first offender represented by Release solicitors on charges of possessing marijuana has so far been sent to prison.

Besides Release, the only agencies doing this kind of work in Britain are the small National Council for Civil Liberties and a few local church and welfare groups. In recent years, the British have not always lived up to their well-deserved reputation for fair play toward the accused criminal. They have not, for example, developed anything like the body of Supreme Court case law that--at least in theory--restricts police in the U.S. Coon and Harris, in a paperback entitled The Release Report on Drug Offenders and the Law, claim that British bobbies at times break into homes without warrants and on the flimsiest evidence, often entering at night to heighten "the shock effect." Release is helping to discourage such arbitrary police behavior. "My impression is that the police are being much more careful with search and seizure," says Father Kenneth Leach, an Anglican curate in London's Soho district. "Release is reaching ordinary youthful offenders, the inarticulate ones who are most likely to be the victims of police abuse."

The agency has financed its achievements on a shoestring budget of about $300 a week; the largest contribution that it has received to date is $12,000 from Beatle George Harrison, who was recently fined for being caught with pot. Founder Coon, who draws only $12 a week for herself, is Release's best fund raiser. The tall (5-ft. 8-in.) daughter of country gentry, she often makes pitches for funds during TV interviews, speaking, a debutante English that is laced with junkies' slang.

She is already working on innovations in the Release program, among them a new contraception and pregnancy bureau. While abortions are legal in Britain under some circumstances, many doctors do not want to be bothered with the involved bureaucratic procedures that are required; those who do, often charge more than most young girls can afford. "We've got a doctor who will perform legal abortions at very reasonable fees," says Caroline. "Or if the girl wants to keep her baby, we know the right social agencies that will help her without leaning on her." With that kind of frank talk, plus her zeal and 24-karat charm, Caroline Coon is helping to remind her countrymen that they cannot afford to become too complacent about their cherished rights.

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