Harsher penalties for those caught driving under the influence to take effect in Ohio
After unanimously passing the Statehouse and gaining Gov. Mike DeWine's signature, Liv's Law will go into effect on Wednesday, April 9. The legislation, sponsored by Reps. Mark Johnson (R-Chillicothe) and Kevin Miller (R-Newark), was named after Olivia Wright, 22, who was killed by a drunk driver near Ashville in September 2020.
'A constituent, Bryan Wright, brought this issue to my desk after losing his daughter, Olivia, to a drunk driver,' Johnson said in a news release. 'He pointed out to me how weak Ohio's laws are compared to other states in the nation, and that is what inspired me to work on this legislation in an attempt to try and deter any drunk driver from becoming a repeat offender.'
The implementation of the law means those charged with an OVI (Operating a Vehicle Under the Influence) will face increased fines, specifically an extra $190 compared with current law. For example, the minimum fine for a first-time offense will rise from $375 to $565, and the minimum fine for a second offense will rise from $525 to $715.
Liv's Law will also increase the maximum fine for aggravated vehicular homicide to $25,000, which is $10,000 more than the current law allows. Additionally, right now the offense is punishable by up to 15 years in prison when the defendant has had three or more OVI-related convictions in the past 10 years; the incoming law will increase the maximum sentence to 20 years and allow courts to consider offenses within the last 20 years.
'It is my hope that Liv's Law will serve as a deterrent for those who have repeatedly decided to put the lives of others at risk all for the sake of their convenience,' Miller said in a statement.
The law will also allow police to collect oral fluid samples from drivers suspected of driving under the influence, while current law only permits blood, urine and breath testing. Oral fluid testing allows law enforcement to test for substance use on-site and receive results within minutes. Similar to the other kinds of testing used in the state, refusing an oral fluid swab can result in a misdemeanor charge and penalties such as fines or jail time under Ohio's implied consent laws.
Liv's Law will also mandate those who have been charged with an OVI two or more times to use ignition interlocks, or breathalyzers, in order to start their cars. Currently, the court may or may not require the device on a second offense depending on what the individual's blood alcohol content was.
Introduced in February 2023, Liv's Law did not receive any opponent testimony before it passed the Statehouse in December 2024.
Copyright 2025 Nexstar Media, Inc. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed.
Hashtags

Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Yahoo
7 hours ago
- Yahoo
Arkansas State Police investigating Saturday morning shooting near Remmel Dam
HOT SPRING COUNTY, Ark. – Arkansas State Police officials are investigating a Saturday morning shooting that left one person injured. Officials said the shooting took place early Saturday morning at Jack's Landing, located near Remmel Dam in the Jones Mill community near Malvern. The incident, which occurred on the Ouachita River at Lake Catherine, left one person with serious injuries. Authorities have not released any details about what led to the shooting or if there are any suspects. The investigation is ongoing, and no further information is available at this time. Copyright 2025 Nexstar Media, Inc. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed.
Yahoo
2 days ago
- Yahoo
Heavy police presence in Gibson City Monday afternoon
GIBSON CITY, Ill. (WCIA) — There is a heavy police presence in Gibson City Monday afternoon. The officers are in the area of IL-54 and N 300 E Road. Two officers shot in Gibson City, Suspect sought A WCIA reporter on the scene said the officers appear to be searching a field. This is a developing story. We will share updates as we learn more. Copyright 2025 Nexstar Media, Inc. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed. Solve the daily Crossword


Boston Globe
2 days ago
- Boston Globe
Nicholas Alahverdian wanted to be ‘relevant.' Now he's a convicted rapist.
This is a tragic understatement, but it turns out Alahverdian – who has also gone by Nicholas Rossi and then Arthur Knight when he was on the lam in Scotland – had a much more sinister history than any of the reporters he called incessantly over the years ever realized. Advertisement It has to be a relief for at least one of his victims that Alahverdian is going to serve a substantial prison sentence – potentially for the rest of his life. But it's difficult to avoid looking in the mirror and wondering about the role of Rhode Island's media in amplifying his claims and looking the other way when seemingly obvious red flags emerged. Get Rhode Island News Alerts Sign up to get breaking news and interesting stories from Rhode Island in your inbox each weekday. Enter Email Sign Up If you don't know Alahverdian's story, it's every bit worthy of a movie script. That's why there have been multiple The short version: He was an advocate for reforming the child welfare system in Rhode Island, and led a secret life as a criminal who conned multiple people out of money. And, it turns out, he was a rapist. He was finally caught when he landed in a Scottish hospital with COVID-19 while living under an alias, and was extradited to Utah, where he was wanted for rape. Advertisement Alahverdian popped on my radar in 2010 when I was a young reporter; in fact, I was still bartending to make ends meet at the time, and we met when he brought a date to Gregg's in Providence, where I was working. No one disputes that Alahverdian had a rough upbringing – a dysfunctional family life that led to even more dysfunctional stints in foster care, which ultimately led him to sue the state of Rhode Island. Along the way, he became obsessed with local politics, became a State House intern, and became a fierce advocate for reforming the Department of Children, Youth, and Families. I found him to be polished, intense, and strangely needy for someone in his early 20s. But he had the vibe of a poser in a middle school cafeteria – the type who laughed a little too loudly at jokes, sucked up to the cool kids, and just wanted to be accepted as 'relevant' – that was a word he enjoyed using. Sometime in 2011, I remember having a drink at Local 121, a popular politico bar in Providence that no longer exists. The room was filled with current and former elected officials, operatives, and journalists, and Alahverdian was there working the room. He wasn't exactly part of the group, but he wasn't exactly unwelcome, either. No one was eager to be his friend, but no one minded that he was there. It was like he was trying to will himself into the picture, even if he didn't quite fit the frame. Advertisement He latched onto reporters like me because he thought we could make him more relevant – and many of us took the bait. I've always taken some pride in not writing about him or his terrifying stories of abuse while in state care, but I can't really attribute those decisions to impeccable instincts. I liked exclusive stories, and he was a fixture on the 6 p.m. news. I did, however, pick up the phone when he called, and he called a lot… for years. I can't speak for every reporter who covered him, but I don't think they simply fell for his ruse. He had a story to tell: It mostly checked out, and busy journalists found him to be highly quotable and always available. Still, there were warning signs. A quick background check on Alahverdian showed he had legal problems in the past, although the details were vague. He had spent some time in both Ohio and Utah, but didn't talk much about those experiences. It turns out he was a registered sex offender, based on an incident at a community college in Ohio. He also had a stint as a student at Harvard's extension school, but he spoke about attending Harvard as though he was an undergraduate. I remember asking another journalist in town about Alahverdian's criminal record, and they were more sympathetic. Anyone who experienced what he did as a child could fall off track as an adult, the reporter reasoned. Besides, it didn't make his story any less true. What we didn't know at the time was that a rape kit from 2008 was sitting on a shelf in Utah waiting to be tested. By the time it was, Alahverdian was mostly out of sight and out of mind in Rhode Island. Advertisement It's unclear exactly when he landed in Scotland, but law enforcement now believes that was an effort to evade rape charges in Utah, and a federal fraud investigation out of Ohio. It had been at least a year since I had heard from Alahverdian when I received a press release on Jan. 10, 2020, claiming that he was diagnosed with late-stage non-Hodgkin's lymphoma. I remember feeling bad for him, but also thinking, very cynically, that at least I wouldn't have to answer his phone calls anymore. Of course, I was wrong about that, because I ended up having to talk with a woman named She was irate that the Globe wouldn't run Alahverdian's obituary. We actually initially published an Associated Press story on his death, but I asked for it to be taken down because something didn't seem right. I had no reason to believe he was a criminal in hiding, but I wouldn't put it past him to fake his own death and seek attention from local journalists – and all the details were coming from an unknown person. Law enforcement officials now believe Alahverdian was seeking to use all the attention he got for his death to throw them off his scent. In the end, Alahverdian's story fell apart. He has since admitted that he faked his own death, although he claimed he was hiding out because of threats made against him in Rhode Island – none of which appear to be true. Advertisement For years, Alahverdian fought to control his own narrative – to make himself matter, to keep himself in the headlines, to make sure he was the one telling the story. But in that Utah courtroom this week, none of the spin, aliases, or theatrics mattered. The jury didn't see an advocate or a victim. They saw a rapist. He once told me he just wanted to be 'relevant.' Now he is, for all the worst reasons – and in a way he'll never be able to rewrite. Dan McGowan can be reached at