“What do we do with Steven?“
That is not a rhetorical question. It is a policy question. And it is one our criminal justice and mental health systems have no answer for.

Steven Jay Cossey has been arrested roughly 30 times. He has a long, documented history of violence against law enforcement and family members, repeated episodes of spitting on officers, domestic abuse, terroristic threatening, and severe mental illness paired with chronic drug use.
And yet, he remains in the community.
A familiar incident, familiar outcome
On Nov. 24, 2025, Cossey became disruptive during court proceedings. He was cursing and shouting he spit on Pope County Sheriff’s Cpl. Scott Dixon while in an elevator after his hearing. When additional officers stepped in to help, Cossey spit on them as well.
He resisted while being escorted to a transport van and kicked an officer while being placed inside.
This incident led to felony charges: three counts of aggravated assault on a law enforcement officer and two counts of second-degree battery involving certain victims.
It was not a first offense. It was not unusual behavior. It was a continuation.
A pattern stretching back years
Cossey’s criminal record reads less like a series of isolated incidents and more like a looping script.
In April 2024, he spit on law enforcement officers.
In 2023, while in custody, he spit on and punched an officer and grabbed the officer’s genitals. That same year, he broke into his parents’ home after threatening to murder them if they did not let him inside. He tried to headbutt responding officers. He pleaded guilty to terroristic threatening and received a 90-day county jail sentence.
In 2017, officers responded to a domestic battery call involving his mother, Donna Cossey. She had visible bruising and red marks. A witness reported that Steven entered the home and attacked her while she slept. That case was dismissed.
In 2015, Pottsville police responded after Cossey struck his father, Larry Cossey, reportedly hitting him in the head multiple times with a bat. A state psychologist evaluated Cossey and found him to be bipolar with schizoaffective disorder, concluding he lacked the capacity to appreciate the criminality of his actions or conform his conduct. A judge acquitted him on that basis.
That same year, Russellville police responded to another domestic disturbance where Cossey banged on a trailer with a hammer, struck his mother, and left her with cuts and bruises. Charges were dropped.
The system’s revolving door
Cossey did not finish high school but obtained a GED. He has never been employed. He has been on disability since age 18. He acknowledges regular cannabis use to manage anxiety and has a significant history of methamphetamine use. He has an extensive psychiatric history.
Multiple defense attorneys have withdrawn from representing him due to abusive conduct. In January 2026, his attorney moved to withdraw after Cossey refused to speak with him and used racially derogatory language, stating he did not want to be represented by a Black attorney.
At every stage, the system responds the same way. Short jail stays. Dismissed charges. Release back into the community.
And then it happens again.
The question no one wants to answer
This is where the uncomfortable question arises.
When is enough enough?
Do we wait until a law enforcement officer is seriously injured? Until a parent is killed? Until a bystander is caught in the middle?
The answer cannot always be “treatment” when treatment has failed repeatedly. It cannot always be “release” when release predictably results in new victims. And it cannot be “there’s nothing we can do” when the record shows decades of warning signs.
This is not about punishment for punishment’s sake. It is about public safety. It is about protecting the people who keep getting hurt. And yes, it is about acknowledging that some individuals, through a combination of violence, refusal to comply, and untreated or untreatable conditions, may not be able to safely live among the general public.
A system that protects no one
Steven Cossey is not being helped by this system. Law enforcement officers are not being protected. His parents were not protected. The public is not protected.
A justice system that repeatedly releases a known, violent offender back into the community is not compassionate. It is negligent.
At some point, society has to decide whether it will continue to document the damage after the fact, or whether it will act before the next headline asks the same question again.
What do we do with Steven?
