Georgia driver did two stints in jail for the same crime: “dual sovereignty” loophole
Imagine getting pulled over by the police, taking a plea deal with the state, and serving your time—only to have the feds come knocking to charge you all over again. That’s exactly what happened to Terance Gamble. He spent a year in state prison for being a felon in possession of a firearm. Then, after he got out, the federal government decided that wasn’t enough. They charged him again—for the same crime—and locked him up for another 46 months. So he asked the Supreme Court to uphold his rights against “double jeopardy.”
One crime, two punishments: double jeopardy

Our saga begins with Terance Gamble making the mistake of committing an armed robbery. He did his time. Seven years later, he was pulled over in Mobile, Alabama—for a broken taillight. That’s when things spiraled.
During the stop, officers “discovered both a gun and marijuana paraphernalia in Gamble’s car.” Gamble, already a convicted felon, was barred from owning a firearm. Alabama charged him with illegal possession of a firearm, and he served one year in prison.
Then, the feds showed up. The U.S. Attorney’s Office charged Gamble for the exact same crime. Gamble argued double jeopardy, saying he couldn’t be prosecuted twice. But the courts didn’t see it that way.
The dual-sovereignty loophole

At trial, Gamble pointed to the Fifth Amendment, which protects people from being “twice put in jeopardy” for the same offense–also known as double jeopardy. But prosecutors invoked an old loophole—the dual-sovereignty doctrine. It says state and federal governments are “separate sovereigns” and can prosecute the same act as two different crimes.
Gamble fought the ruling. The Court of Appeals didn’t budge. The wordy ruling: “The district court did not err by determining that double jeopardy did not prohibit the federal government from prosecuting Gamble for the same conduct for which he had been prosecuted and sentenced for by the State of Alabama.”
But Gamble wasn’t giving up yet. He took it to the Supreme Court. No luck. Justice Alito wrote, “Two offenses ‘are not the same offence’ for double jeopardy purposes if ‘prosecuted by different sovereigns.’”
Gamble lost, 7–2. Justice Ginsburg agreed, calling it a “liberty-denying” loophole. She added, “The liberty-denying potential of successive prosecutions, when Federal and State Governments prosecute in tandem, is the same as it is when either prosecutes twice.”
Back in the news

Gamble served his second sentence, but his legal troubles didn’t end there. By 2022, he was back in headlines. According to WKRG, Gamble was placed on supervised release but wound up wanted again. The “U.S. District Court has issued a warrant for his arrest following his involvement in a shooting last month.” He was charged with “Assault 2nd and Discharging a firearm into an occupied vehicle.”
Authorities warned, “Gamble should be considered armed and dangerous.”
What does the double jeopardy ruling mean for us all?
Gamble’s story isn’t just about one man. It’s about the cracks in our legal protections. The Double Jeopardy Clause was supposed to prevent this kind of thing—“twice put in jeopardy” for the same act. But the dual-sovereignty rule leaves those protections wide open.
Supreme Court Justice Gorsuch wrote a dissenting opinion, “When governments may unleash all their might in multiple prosecutions… it is the poor and the weak who suffer first—and there is nothing to stop them from being the last.” And no one knows that better than Terance Gamble.
For now, the dual-sovereignty rule stands. And so do the questions it raises about how far the government can go—and who’s most likely to pay the price.