(NEW YORK) — Daniel Penny “used far too much force for far too long” and though he may be an “honorable veteran” and “nice young man,” he was reckless with Jordan Neely’s life because “he didn’t recognize his humanity,” Assistant District Attorney Dafna Yoran said in her opening statement Friday during the trial over the fatal chokehold.

“He was aware of the risk his actions would kill Mr. Neely and did it anyway,” Yoran said.

Penny is charged with manslaughter and negligent homicide in the May 2023 death of Neely, a homeless man who was acting erratically on a New York City subway car.

“Jordan Neely took his last breaths on the dirty floor of an uptown F train,” Yoran told a rapt jury.

Neely entered a moderately crowded subway car at the Second Avenue stop and began making threats about hurting people, scaring many of the passengers, Yoran said.

She pointed at Penny as she told the jury, “This man, took it upon himself to take down Jordan Neely. To neutralize him.”

Thirty seconds later, the train arrived at the next station and all the passengers left the train car, except two men who were helping Penny restrain Neely. The prosecutor said Penny hung onto Neely for 51 seconds after Neely’s body went limp.

“By doing so, he pushed Mr. Neely to the point of no return,” Yoran said. “He left Mr. Neely lying on the floor unconscious and didn’t look back.”

Penny has pleaded not guilty to charges of second-degree manslaughter and criminally negligent homicide in Neely’s death. His attorneys have said Neely was “insanely threatening,” but Yoran said Penny’s actions were unnecessarily reckless because he continued the chokehold for 5 minutes and 53 seconds after the subway car was empty of passengers. “A grasp that never changed,” Yoran called it.

“The defendant did not intend to kill him. His initial intent was even laudable,” Yoran said. “But under the law, deadly physical force such as a chokehold is permitted only when it is absolutely necessary and for only as long as is absolutely necessary. And here, the defendant went way too far.”

The prosecutor told jurors they would see video of the chokehold.

“You will see Mr. Neely’s life being sucked out before your very eyes,” Yoran said, appearing to upset one of the jurors who grimaced and briefly shut his eyes.

She also said jurors would see body camera video of Penny’s initial encounter with police, four and a half minutes after letting go of Neely.

When the officer asked Penny what happened, the prosecutor said Penny replied that Neely had been threatening. “Then he said, ‘I just put him out,'” Yoran told the jury.

The defense is set to give its opening statement on Friday following a break.

Protest audible from courtroom

The sounds of a sidewalk protest over the death of Neely were audible in the 13th-floor courtroom ahead of opening statements. Protesters were heard calling Penny a “subway strangler.”

Judge Max Wiley said he would instruct jurors to ignore “noise outside the courthouse.”

Penny, in a slate blue suit, strode confidently into the courtroom and took his seat at the defense table ahead of opening statements.

The jury of seven women and five men, four of whom are people of color, will be asked to do something prosecutors concede is difficult: convict someone of an unintentional crime.

To convict, prosecutors must prove Penny’s use of lethal force was unjustifiable and that Penny acted recklessly and consciously disregarded the substantial risk of putting Neely in the chokehold for so long. Prosecutors do not have to prove Penny intended to kill Neely, which defense attorneys have said Neely did not intend to do.

Wiley denied Penny’s bid to dismiss his involuntary manslaughter case in January.

The trial report.

About 15% of people with severe mental illness successfully return to work, according to the National Alliance on Mental Illness — but at Fountain House, 25 to 30% of their active membership has returned to work.

A New York University study on Fountain House found that its services save Medicaid costs by up to 21% by reducing hospitalizations and ER visits as well as increasing primary care visits, increased outpatient mental health visits, and increased pharmacy visits – “essentially a better adherence to other forms of treatment that can further support members’ recovery,” Fountain House said in a statement.

Researchers at Fountain House also found that the roughly 60,000 people clubhouses nationwide serve each year yield an estimated savings of over $11,000 per person — or at least $682 million total each year.

Fountain House also touts that members who enroll in degree or certificate-seeking educational programs have a 90% average semester completion rate.

For Torres, mental health care is personal.

“About 15 years ago, I found myself at the lowest point in my life. I had dropped out of college. I found myself struggling with depression. I even attempted suicide and underwent hospitalization for a period of time,” Torres told ABC News. “I felt as if the world around me had collapsed, and I never thought seven years later, I would become the youngest elected official in America’s largest city, and then seven years later, become a member of the United States Congress.”

He has called for more federal funding for community-based programs like Fountain House.

“The challenge of mental illness is often compounded by the problem of loneliness, and clubhouses represent the creation of a community,” he said. “It is an elegant solution to the problem of loneliness. It provides community where none exists. It fills the human gap that’s often left by isolation, and so I would love to see the proliferation of clubhouses across the country.”

And for those who may need more assistance than an outpatient resource can offer, Gorman believes the focus should be on the rehabilitative efforts, not punitive ones.

“Involuntary treatment and inpatient treatment are last resorts, they are only tried when everything else fails,” Gorman said. “I think if we do not consider those options, then we have to be ready to admit that we already are institutionalizing the mentally ill, but in jails and prisons. These are punitive settings, not therapeutic settings. So it’s hard to see how this is more humane.”

A clubhouse success story

Carmen Murray-Williams, now 65, had been homeless on-and-off since she was 14, when she left her home amid a “rough” and “uncomfortable” living situation with her family.

“There were times where I couldn’t find any help. I was so tired that I would get a cardboard box, flatten it down on the ground wherever I was, and sleep there. And once or twice, I woke up, and I found myself buried in snow,” Murray-Williams told ABC News. “I said, I really have to get out of the situation. And I kept knocking on doors … I prayed all the time. I mean, every chance I got, I prayed.”

She said she lived on the streets until she was about 17, when her grandmother found her, took her in, and convinced her to continue her education. She got her GED and was excited to start college, but her grandmother’s death left her both heartbroken and homeless once more.

“She’s my everything,” Murray-Williams said. “She got me to believe that life keeps going on and you don’t have to worry about your age and whatnot. Just keep on trying. I love my grandmother. I miss her.”

Life continued to present challenges for Murray-Williams, who had lost contact with the rest of her family. She recalls her past addiction to crack cocaine, an accidental fall from an apartment balcony that broke her back, and a boyfriend who opened credit cards from a joint bank account, putting her thousands of dollars in debt.

And one day, she said, “I absolutely lost my mind. I just started screaming and hollering or turn up things” and the police were called on her. She was diagnosed with bipolar disorder at the age of 42 following the outbursts.

After receiving inpatient treatment for her disorder, she was accepted as a member of Fountain House to get her back on her feet.

Fountain House members like Murray-Williams have access to supportive resources — including meals, job training, education, and housing assistance — while developing social supports to build relationships and reintegrate into their community.

“We’ll have a morning meeting and we decide who does what chores. After that, we start doing the chores that they give us. Chores could be putting data entry into the computer or could be cleaning up the front of the clubhouse,” Murray-Williams said. Clubhouse members help the organization function; they prepare meals, man the phones, and fundraise.

“If you’re in the horticulture unit, which is now ‘home and garden,’ you do the gardens. And we do a lot here. I go to the gym and wellness unit twice a week,” she said.

Murray-Williams has a jam-packed schedule, which includes running the Bingo gathering multiple times a week — “my favorite days of the week” — and helps lead a dance exercise group.

“Getting to 65 and still being here? I didn’t think I was gonna make it to 65,” Murray-Williams said. “But I’m just grateful for every day and every opportunity that I get.”

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