One of Ross’ sons was sent to monitor protests as a member of the New York State Police. A younger son – in his 20s – wanted to join the protests to express outrage at Floyd’s death.

“I understood their emotions, both from the law enforcement side and being a Black person in society,” Ross said.

Ross’ younger son stayed home out of concern over Covid-19 spreading rapidly. But the next morning, he had an idea.

“You should become the U.S. attorney,” the son told Ross. “You wouldn’t let it happen, because you would have prosecuted Derek Chauvin before it got to the point where he murdered someone.”

Eighteen months later, Ross is the new U.S. attorney for Western New York – and the first woman of color to hold the office. The Buffalo native spent two decades building cases against cops who crossed the line – even as she displayed a picture of her son in his trooper uniform on her desk.

“I don’t think it’s a contradiction,” Ross said. “I think it gives me more of an insight. Because I talk to my son who’s in law enforcement, I know what he goes through. I understand the split-second decision law enforcement officers have to make, for their safety and those they’re there to serve and protect.”

But in Ross’ mind, there’s a difference between a police officer who makes a mistake and one who misuses their power to harm someone.

“I’m clearly not anti-cop,” she said. “I’m anti-bad cop.”

‘Most significant’ case involved cop

When she was nominated for the U.S. attorney job, Ross told the Senate Judiciary Committee that a case she prosecuted against a City of Tonawanda police captain was the “most significant” case she handled as an assistant U.S. attorney.

The captain, James G. Litz, admitted in 2010 to choking a prisoner after he had been arrested, handcuffed and placed in a police car outside Litz’s home. He was sentenced to two years’ probation. Litz’s wife, Cindy Young-Litz, was the department’s police chief at the time – a factor that motivated Ross in pursuing the case.

“People knew – in his department and in the community – what he was doing,” Ross said of Litz. “They had no recourse, they had no one to go to. Who were they going to complain to, his wife? That had been going on for quite some time, with him abusing his power, and nobody saying anything because his wife was the chief.”

The Litz case was part of a firestorm in the City of Tonawanda Police Department that included multiple accusations of misconduct and the suicide of a former officer. Young-Litz retired as chief to take care of her husband, who developed serious medical issues after he was arrested.

Young-Litz and her husband declined to comment about Ross’ handling of the case, but defense attorney Herbert L. Greenman, who represented Litz, said he had no complaints about the prosecution.

“I never thought she was unfair or anything like that,” Greenman said. “When it came to sentencing, each of us had very strong feelings for our respective positions. The judge wound up sentencing him, and at the end of the day, we walked out of court, shook hands and Trini and I have always remained friends.”

Litz faced a recommended sentence of 12 to 18 months in prison. Court transcripts show U.S. District Judge Richard J. Arcara repeatedly scolded federal prosecutors for their handling of the case, challenging Ross seven times to explain why Litz deserved a prison sentence.

“The shame that this man has brought upon himself, his family, the police department, what more do you want?” Arcara asked Ross. “How much do you want out of his rock? What do you see as justice here?”

Each time, Ross stated that she was simply asking for a sentence that complied with federal sentencing guidelines. Then she hinted that she might not be in total disagreement with the judge.

“I don’t even believe that the government and the court are that far in our view of this,” Ross said.

Arcara replied: “Really. I thought we were about 180 degrees different.”

Ross told Arcara she understood “what’s happening out there, what happens to law enforcement officers. I prosecute civil rights cases, my son is a New York State trooper. I get it. I absolutely get it.”

When pressed again, Ross said police officers are also held to a higher standard of conduct than the average citizen.

“He is a police officer,” Ross told the judge, referring to Litz. “He has been in situations. We expect more.”

Arcara said prosecutors erred in mentioning other brutality allegations against Litz, for which he was not charged. At sentencing, he also cited the fact that the assault occurred while Litz was at home and off-duty and that Litz was agitated that night because someone had been making anonymous telephone threats against his daughter.

Ross, in a recent interview, laughed while recalling the heated exchange with Arcara. She said it wasn’t the first time she got into a tense exchange with a judge. Despite the ruling that went against Ross’ recommended sentence, Greenman said she was not bitter.

“She was not the kind of lawyer who would go out and complain, ‘Oh, I was treated unfair,’ ” he said. “She accepted it, she moved on and our relationship remained a very strong, good, cordial relationship. And that’s what you look for in a prosecutor.”

Not winning ‘at all costs’

Ross prosecuted multiple lawmen for civil rights violations during her 23 years working in the U.S. Attorney’s Office in Buffalo, most recently under former U.S. attorneys William J. Hochul Jr. and James P. Kennedy Jr.

Thomas J. Thompson, an Erie County sheriff’s sergeant, received eight months in a halfway house after admitting in 2012 to taking part in an inmate assault in the Erie County Holding Center.

Sean P. Kelley, a West Seneca police officer, admitted to violating the civil rights of a bar patron in 2010. He was sentenced to six months’ time served for that incident, but received four months behind bars in 2011 for assaulting a police officer at a different bar.

At a recent swearing-in ceremony at Hutchinson Central Technical High School, Ross outlined her philosophy to more than 100 supporters, including many of the region’s prominent criminal defense lawyers. She promised to use her life experience as a woman of color in a criminal justice system that has been criticized for being unjustly punitive to African Americans.

“I prosecuted criminal cases, trying to balance the need to be tough with my unique understanding of how the odds were stacked against many of the defendants based on the color of their skin and their socioeconomic class,” Ross said.

Ross also said she wants prosecutors and staff “who believe it is our mission to seek justice, not to win at all costs.”

Those sentiments drew cheers from the defense lawyers, as well as retired State Supreme Court Justice Timothy J. Drury, who said he does not know Ross.

“I thought her comments were really on-point and staked out a definite change in the attitude of what an incoming U.S. attorney would be,” Drury said. “Helping people along to change their lives? That’s not the blood-and-guts type of thing you hear from the U.S. attorney.”

Not everyone, though, believes the vocal support of defense attorneys is positive. While none wanted to publicly criticize Ross, multiple law enforcement officials expressed doubts to The News about the idea of prosecutors moving away from a traditional law-and-order approach.

“My hope is there will be consistent application of laws and prosecution of crimes across the board,” said John T. Evans, president of the Buffalo Police Benevolent Association. “Inconsistent discipline is a problem in our department. I'm sure it would only magnify at the Western District level. We don't want to see a two-tiered legal system. Hopefully, we aren't headed in that direction.”

Ross said she has no intention of going easy on people who break the law. Her intent is to look at the full context of the alleged crime when making decisions about prosecutions or sentencing recommendations.

“I’m here to do justice, and justice is not just about locking people up,” she said. “I’ve had cases where I’ve said, ‘The best thing I did for a family is lock their loved one away to give that family space to have a different life without that bad element in it.’ But at the same time, we can’t just look at a person in isolation and say, ‘They’re just a bad person, we should put them away forever.’ ”

Ross said she embraces restorative justice programs and rehabilitation for those who spend time behind bars – even as she works as a prosecutor to enforce the consequences of their actions.

“That’s our job,” she said. “That’s what I do. But I’m also human, and I live in a society, and I want people to be better. So after they pay their debt to society, should that hang on them for the rest of their lives? Or should they be rehabilitated, if possible, to become a productive member of society?”

She suggested some of the wrongful convictions that have eroded trust in the criminal justice system in recent years might have been avoided if prosecutors worked harder to understand the complex factors that go into criminal cases.

“I just want prosecutors to be mindful of the power of the position and the harm that you can do if you’re not thoughtful about what you’re doing at the time that you’re doing it,” she said.

Ross also cited her uncle, the late George K. Arthur, one of the region’s most prominent Black politicians during his time as president of the Buffalo Common Council. Arthur, who died a year ago this month, fought for civil rights, and it was the civil rights of a Black man – George Floyd – who started Ross on the path to office.

“He really helped me to become the person I am,” she said. “He showed me how important it was to give everything you can to the society that you live in. Not just take from it – but to give to it.”