Monday, October 20, 2014

Either Praise the Police, or Shut Up



"Don't just touch your chin -- bang it, man, bang it!"



Following Alexander the Great’s conquest of Persia, members of the Persian elite were required to prostrate themselves before their new ruler. Polyperchon, one of Alexander’s generals, sternly rebuked one of the Persians whose self-abasement was seen as inadequate.

“Come on, don’t just touch the floor with your chin,” demanded Alexander’s arrogant underling. “Bang it, man! Bang it!”

Police union commissar Patrick J. Lynch displays more than a hint of that attitude in dealing with a public that at long last has become disgusted with routine and impenitent criminal corruption on the part of the state’s consecrated dispensers of violence.  

For Lynch – whose views are very commonplace in law enforcement – any attitude toward police other than abject, servile gratitude is unacceptable, and perhaps even criminal. This is true even of those who preface modulated discussion of unambiguous criminal misconduct with the familiar disclaimer: “Not all cops are bad.”

“Proclaiming that `not all cops are bad’ implies that rational people might somehow believe the opposite,” Lynch whined in a recent column for the New York Post. “It lends cop-haters a credibility they don’t deserve. And it minimizes the dedication and professionalism that police officers display, day in and day out, by implying that it’s the exception rather than the rule.” 
 
Tax-feeders' mouthpiece: Lynch.

From Lynch’s perspective, sycophancy toward the licensed purveyors of violence is a civic obligation, and the public has a duty to sustain the pretense that every single police officer is a divinely commissioned instrument of justice and the distillate of valor.

Lynch demands that the public accept the proposition that “all cops put their lives on the line to protect all New Yorkers.” The NYPD formally repudiated that claim in its official reply to a lawsuit filed by the heroic Joseph Lozito, who was cut to ribbons while taking down crazed serial killer Maksim Gelman in a subway car as Officer Terrance Howell cowered behind a glass partition. 

Howell was hailed as a “hero,” and the NYPD deflected Lozito’s lawsuit by insisting that “under well-established law, the police … have no special duty” to protect an individual citizen. 

For cops, “officer safety” is always the prime directive. Lynch would contend that the public must embrace Howell as a hero because of his occupation – or, failing that, stifle any criticism of his behavior. Extolling him as a heroic exemplar is acceptable; describing him as an anomalous “bad apple” is not.

According to Lynch, police are victimized by an invidious double standard. After all, “when a patient dies on the operating table under dubious circumstances, elected officials don’t rush to reassure the public that not all surgeons are incompetent. If an airline pilot is caught drinking before take-off, TV talking heads don’t remind us that the majority of pilots are sober.”


Leaving aside the fact that the mechanisms of professional accountability for surgeons and pilots are much more demanding than those that exist in law enforcement, the most obvious problem with Lynch’s desperate analogy is that people in those professions are actually rendering a service to the public. Police have no enforceable duty to do likewise.

Doctors help their patients; pilots safely convey passengers to their chosen destinations. Private security personnel defend persons and property. For people in those professions, success is measured in terms of positive outcomes for paying customers, and failure is recognized as either unavoidable misfortune or culpable incompetence.

For police officers, by way of contrast, “success” results when those targeted in displays of government-sanctioned violence either submit or are subdued, often with lethal consequences – even when the recipient of that violence did nothing to warrant such treatment.

According to Lynch, the death of Eric Garner – who was suspected of selling untaxed cigarettes -- at the hands of an NYPD thugscrum was a “success.” Once the officers had decided to abduct Garner, “failure” – meaning successful resistance by their victim – was no longer an option.

What should police do, Lynch complained in a recent press conference, “when we’re faced with a situation where the person being placed under arrest says, `I’m not going. I’m not being placed under arrest.’ What is it we should do? Walk away?”

If the arrestee wasn’t involved in an actual crime – and there’s no evidence that Garner had done anything other than embarrass plainclothes officers by breaking up a fight – then the inescapable answer is: Yes, the police should walk away.

“We don’t have that option,” Lynch asserts – which means that officers are entitled to “use necessary force to make that arrest.” In the case of Eric Garner, this included the use of an illegal chokehold by Officer Daniel Pantaleo, which resulted in a criminal homicide.
“There is an attitude on our streets today that it is acceptable to resist arrest,” grouses Lynch. “That attitude is a direct result of a lack of respect for law enforcement.”


Actually, that attitude is in large measure a reflection of the ever-escalating lawlessness of the government employees represented by Lynch and his comrades. It may also reflect a growing appreciation for the fact that resisting unlawful arrest — while considered a crime, and prosecuted as if it were — is an ancient, venerable, and indispensable right of free people. Under the still-valid Supreme Court precedent John Black Elk v. U.S. (1900), a citizen has a legally recognized right to use lethal force to prevent the consummation of an unlawful arrest, and bystanders likewise have a right (and perhaps a moral duty) to intervene on behalf of the victim.

Like other agencies of its kind, the NYPD is well-stocked with the kind of privileged bullies who have mastered the art of simultaneously swaggering and simpering. Thus anonymous NYPD sources described anti-police graffiti to the New York Post as “a disturbing hate crime.”

Through video surveillance, the NYPD identified  36-year-old Rosella Best as the culprit. Best tagged police vehicles and a public school with graffiti expressing such eminently defensible (if grammatically awkward) sentiments as “NYPD pick on the harmless,” “NYPD pick on the innocent,” and — in a display of familiar but increasingly justified hyperbole — “NAZIS=NYPD.” (Assuming that Ms. Best used only “public” property as her canvas, it’s difficult to identify an actual victim in this case.)

 Best was charged with “criminal mischief as a hate crime.”  Under Article 485 of New York Penal Law, a “hate crime” must involve “violence, intimidation [or] destruction of property” inspired by animus toward people on the basis of “race, color, national origin, ancestry, gender, religion, religious practice, age, disability, or sexual orientation.” 

Absent from that inventory is any mention of occupation as a “protected category,” which means that the NYPD must consider itself to be either a tribe, a cult, or perhaps even a sexual orientation, most likely one that fetishizes sadistic mistreatment of the helpless.

The statute also specifies that the offending act must be intended to “inflict on victims incalculable physical and emotional damage” and be intended to “intimidate and disrupt entire communities….” By filing a hate crimes charge against Ms. Best, the NYPD is certifying that its rank and file consists of people who are wounded and intimidated by public criticism. If the bold and valiant badasses of the NYPD must be protected from hurtful words, they’re obviously not the kind of people who “put their lives on the line to protect all New Yorkers,” as Patrick Lynch would have us pretend.

All police officers embody “selflessness and courage,” Lynch maintains – but there is one “nightmare” that burdens their waking thoughts and holds sleep in abeyance: Accountability.

“We have watched in disbelief as the worst nightmare a police officer can have comes true,” wailed retired Jersey City Police Officer Robert Cubby in a post at LawEnforcementToday.com, referring to the prospect of criminal charges against Daniel Pantaleo for killing Eric Garner.  “An NYPD officer applied what was falsely called a choke hold. Moments later, the perpetrator gasped for air and died in the hospital.”

These two developments, Cubby would have us pretend, were not necessarily related. It’s not that Garner’s government-employed assailants killed him; he just chose that particular moment to die.

Now that the death of Garner — who was not a “perpetrator” of any sort, once again, but rather a man who had just broken up a fight — has been ruled a homicide, the “career of those involved from the NYPD dangles from a thread,” moans Cubby. “The officers face the worst possible nightmare; loss of their career and being thrown in jail for a good portion of the rest of their lives.”

The same would be true of anybody else who fatally assaulted another human being without cause. Cubby and people of his ilk assume that police officers must be beyond accountability for such actions, and that the loss of their exalted station as dispensers of lethal force is a fate worse than death.

“While these officers now become defendants and have to, somehow, gather enough emotional strength to get through this horrible accusation [and] gather all their financial resources to defend themselves, stay out of jail and retain their jobs, it is time for the LEO family to support our NYPD brothers and sisters,” insists Cubby. He suggested that members of the state’s armed enforcement class display their solidarity with Garner’s killers through a “United We Stand with NYPD” social media campaign: Law enforcement officers and their friends were urged to change their Facebook profile picture to an upside-down NYPD flag. That green, white, and blue banner, which was adopted by the department in 1919, is draped over the coffins of officers who are killed in the line of duty.

After all, if a costumed tax-feeder can’t kill without consequence, what’s the point of living?

Cubby’s suggestion, it should be pointed out, was made before the Michael Brown shooting in Ferguson, Missouri last August – which led to protests, riots, and a Fallujah-grade crack-down by fully militarized “local” police. The well-publicized conduct of the police in Ferguson finally forced the public to confront what the police have become. This, in turn, helped propagate an epidemic of institutional self-pity within law enforcement, and Lt. Daniel Furseth of Wisconsin’s DeForest PD came down with a particularly severe case.

“Today, I stopped caring about my fellow man,” begins Furseth’s October 14 essay in American Police Beat Magazine. “I stopped caring about my community, my neighbors, and those I serve. I stopped caring today because a once noble profession has become despised, hated, distrusted, and mostly unwanted.”


Furseth, like Lynch, is disillusioned not because of what their profession has become, but because of how it is perceived by an ungrateful public that is proving itself unworthy of their sanctified overseers. Furseth also seems deaf to the implications of his own overwrought, self-fixated rhetoric: If he stopped “caring” about the people he “serves,” shouldn’t he resign? Or is he admitting to being a state-licensed sociopath with permission to inflict violence on a public he now views with unfiltered scorn and unalloyed resentment?

“I stopped caring today because parents tell their little kids to be good or `the police will take you away,’ embedding a fear from year one,” complains Furseth, offering a variation on Lynch’s complaint that even people who respect the police understand that they are agents of violence. He likewise condemns those who quite correctly describe the police as “just another tool used by government to generate `revenue.’”

In offering that particular complaint, Furseth reveals himself to be either incurably disingenuous, or a stranger to the concept of irony.

DeForest, Wisconsin is a town of about 9,000 people located not far from Madison, the state capital. It is roughly 91 percent white and has a crime rate less than one-third the national average – and a violent crime rate so low it doesn’t make the needle twitch. Revenue collection through traffic enforcement and OWI (Operating While Intoxicated) “saturation patrols” are the chief functions of that police department.

A "friendly show of force."

Furseth proudly describes himself as the creator of the Capital Area OWI Task Force, which regularly conducts patrols for the purpose of “pulling over drivers as often as possible in a friendly show of force,” in the oxymoron-infused language of a local news account.

The DeForest PD’s 2013 Annual Report smugly observes: “One individual stated the following on a social media site: `Dude, I refuse to drive into DeFo with anything remotely illegal in my car, it seems like there’s a cop on every street.’”

That’s a sensible precaution, given that the “friendly” people responsible for that state of affairs are not only doing everything possible to wring revenue from visitors, but are also obsessively monitoring social media.

“We represent a `Police State’ where `Jackbooted badge-wearing thugs’ randomly attack innocent people without cause or concern for constitutional rights,” laments Furseth. “We are Waco, Ruby Ridge, and Rodney King all rolled into one….”

Notably absent from his jeremiad is any acknowledgement, however qualified or tentative, that the perception he laments could possibly be justified. If he possesses so much as a particle of principled concern for the rights of innocent people, Furseth will reach beyond his privileged peer group and offer support to a local family who suffered horribly  “without cause or concern for constitutional rights” in a 3:00 a.m. no-knock SWAT assault.  


DeForest is about a half-hour from Madison, which is where the family of Bounkham Phonesavanh – more commonly known as “Baby Bou-Bou” --resides.  The 20-month-old child was nearly murdered by police in Georgia last May 28th during a 3:00 no-knock SWAT raid. Acting on the basis of purchased intelligence from a petty criminal, the raiders attacked the home without warning, hurling a flash-bang grenade into the living room. The infernal device exploded in Bou-Bou’s crib, blowing off his nose and ripping open his chest.

The Phonesavanh family was residing temporarily with an aunt in Georgia. The parents weren’t suspected of any criminal conduct – but this didn’t prevent the invaders from assaulting the father, leaving him with a permanent shoulder injury. No drugs or other evidence was found at the home, nor was the relative suspected of drug dealing. 

Just move on: Sheriff Terrell.

The tiny victim was still in a medically induced coma when Habersham County Sheriff Jerry Terrell officially exonerated the officers who had nearly murdered him: “I stand behind what our team did. There’s nothing to investigate, there’s nothing to look at.” Public outrage eventually led to a Grand Jury inquest, which did little more than ratify the sheriff’s claims
Following a six-day investigation, the Grand Jury declined to indict the law enforcement officers who participated in that atrocity.

The prologue to the grand jury’s “Presentment” is five pages of frothy self-justification and pious persiflage emphasizing the public-spiritedness of the panel and extending sympathy to both the victims and perpetrators of this atrocity.

“Nothing can be more difficult and heart-wrenching than injuries to one’s child,” the document asserts, before suggesting that inflicting such injuries can be just as traumatic to the exalted instruments of state coercion who nearly killed Bou-Bou: “[W]e wish to extend our sympathy also to the law enforcement officers involved… [W]hat has not been seen before by others and talked or written about, is that these individuals are suffering as well.”

That “suffering,” like the nearly fatal injuries to Bou-Bou, came after an investigation that was “hurried, sloppy, and unfortunately not in accordance with the best practices and procedures.” This wasn’t “criminal negligence,” mind you, but simply the regrettable result of “well-intentioned people getting in too big a hurry, and not slowing down and taking enough time to consider the possible consequences of their actions.”

This assessment might be appropriate in describing the distracted and inattentive cook who sets fire to a stove. Applying it to people who carried out an unjustified 3:00 a.m. military assault that left an infant fighting for his life is an obscenity.

The most abhorrent passage in this document comes on page 13, where “the parents and extended family” of the victim are cut in for a share of the blame, because they supposedly “had some degree of knowledge concerning family members involved in criminal activity that came in and out of the residence.” Bou-Bou’s parents had taken refuge with relatives in Georgia after their home in Wisconsin was burned down. They weren’t implicated in the alleged wrongdoing of their relative; they were simply desperate for a place to live.

Bou-Bou’s parents, who moved back to Wisconsin in July, have been saddled with more than $1 million in medical bills. After initially promising to help defray those expenses, Habersham County officials — displaying the selective, self-serving fastidiousness for “law” that is so typical of  tyrants and bureaucrats — now insist that it would be “illegal” to do so.


Daniel Furseth is a neighbor to the Phonesevanh family. He ends his essay with a self-dramatizing flourish: “Yes, I stopped caring today. But tomorrow, I will put my uniform back on and I will care again.”

If the compass of his caring extends beyond his comrades in the coercive caste -- and there is videotaped evidence that he has a soft spot for small children -- Furseth really should extend his sympathies to the Phonesevanhs – perhaps by organizing a fundraising effort to help those innocent people pay the costs of restoring their mangled baby to health. 

By doing so, however, Furseth would acknowledge that decent people have abundant reason to look upon the police with fear and suspicion – and this is a concession he probably cannot bring himself to make.

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Tuesday, October 14, 2014

Cannibals with Cutlery



Armed strangers on the doorstep: Fish & Game Officers raid the Watson home, October 8. (Scott Watson)


Carolyn Brewer was startled by the unannounced presence of an armed man in her bedroom. Her mood didn't improve when the intruder sternly ordered her, “You don't get up.” That directive was issued in the interest of “officer safety,” which presumably would have been undermined if the 74-year-old woman had somehow roused herself from her sickbed.

“I was in bed and it was dark, and he came in and announced who he was,” Brewer recounted to me. “He had a big spotlight and just said, `It's Fish and Game, we came here we have to search your room.' I asked why, but he wouldn't tell me why. I told him that I'm a widow, and I'm sick, and that I didn't want him in my room. But he searched it anyway.”

Brewer rents a room in the Caldwell, Idaho home of Kenneth and Carrol Watson. She was sleeping when Lori Alley, one of the couple's adult daughters, knocked on the bedroom door to tell her that an officer from the Idaho Department of Fish & Game wanted to search the room. Brewer groggily replied that she wanted to be left alone, and went back to sleep. A few minutes later, she told me, the officer “startled me awake” by barging in despite the elderly woman's desire to be left in peace.

The imposition was brief, but thoroughly unpleasant. The officer went through Brewer's closet and tried to look under her bed. While pawing through the victim's belongings the officer knocked over a heater, an act of heedless negligence that could easily have led to a catastrophic fire (for which he would not have been held liable, given that he is imbued with that magic property called “qualified immunity”).

Finding nothing of interest, he left without a word of explanation or apology, leaving a traumatized septuagenarian in his wake.

“I was so frightened and upset I could hardly sleep the rest of the night,” Brewer told me a few days after the October 8 raid. “My chest is still tight, and I can't sleep at night. There was this man in my room with a big gun on his belt. He was very curt, and wouldn't even tell me what he was looking for. I'm a widow, I'm sick, and I spent the entire night in a cold room because he knocked over my heater. What made it worse was that the owner of the house wasn't here. I felt really threatened – I was scared, I was petrified.”

“This didn't feel like America to me,” Brewer continued. “This was like something that would happen in Iran, or Afghanistan, countries like that.”

Brewer is under the care of Adult Family Services, and there was a possibility of contacting the agency to complain about the mistreatment she had suffered. But she was concerned that by doing so she would cause more problems for Kenneth and Carrol Watson, for whom she has limitless respect.

“After my husband died, I had to move out of my house,” Brewer explains. “The Watsons offered to rent me a room. They are the nicest people – you'll never find nicer or more generous people. They help everybody there is. If you're in need, they'll help you.”

The Idaho Fish & Game raid on the Watson home tested the limits of that generosity. Kenneth, a lay pastor, and Carrol, a home-schooler, had been attending Wednesday night church services when they received a phone call informing them about the raid. Upon reaching their home they found five police vehicles clustered around their home, and seven officers prowling their property.

After ordering the startled home owners to deposit their cell phones on the kitchen table – “For our safety and your own,” they were told – Kenneth and Carrol were presented with the warrant, which authorized the intruders to find and confiscate "an elk, elk parts ... processed and/or packaged elk, bow and other archery equipment, images and/or video and/or  digital/electronic data and associated metadata evidences in whatever form" belonging to Zack Hershberger, another long-term guest of the family.

Instinctively seeking to deflect blame for the imposition, Officer Paul Alexander told Mr. Watson that Hershberger “could have avoided all this if he had just come in and talked to us.”
 
Post-raid relief: Zack Hershberger is at the center. (Scott Watson)
The agency claimed to have evidence that Hershberger, a former resident of Oregon, had fraudulently obtained and used an Idaho elk hunting license before establishing legal residency. When he was contacted by the agency, Hershberger – acting on the advice of a friend who is a former trooper with the Idaho State Patrol – refused to talk with investigators without an attorney.

This means that the after-dark raid – which led to the invasion of a terrified old woman's bedroom, and the in-home detention of several people for about two and a half hours on a weeknight – was a gratuitous exercise intended to punish Hershberger, and those with whom he lived, because of his impudent insistence on asserting his rights under the law.

Hershberger explained to me that he came to Caldwell in late October of last year. Over the past year he has lived in Caldwell, Lewiston, and Nampa while working in various jobs, both in and out of the state. With the help of Kenneth Watson and his son-in-law, Loren Alley, Hershberger obtained both an Idaho driver's license and a hunting license last August.

To qualify for a resident hunting license, the applicant must be “domiciled in this state with the bona fide intent of making it their place of permanent abode, for a period of not less than 6 months immediately preceding the date of application for any license, tag, or permit.” Zack Hershberger easily qualified under that definition.

“I was very careful and very specific in trying to find out what Zack needed to do in order to get his hunting license,” Loren Alley told me. “We went down to Fish & Game and asked what he had to do in order to get a residential license, and we were told that he had to have a driver's license, and that once this was done the burden would be on him. When we went to the DMV, we were told that the person he was living with could vouch for him. We did exactly what Fish and Game told us to do.”

Hershberger's difficulties began when he offered to share some elk meat with his aunt and uncle, who appear to be of a severely authoritarian cast of mind. Rather than thanking the young man for his generosity, they contacted the Fish & Game department to inform them of their suspicions that he had been hunting illegally with a fraudulent residential hunting permit.

 
“Fish and Game called me yesterday [October 7] at about a quarter after five,” Hershberger recalled to me during a conversation in the Watson family's dining room shortly after the raid was over. “They wanted me to come down to their office at eight the following morning. They told me that I had to come in. When I said I had other plans – I have a job, after all – I was told `They'll have to change.'”

Unlike his tormentors, Hershberger is honorably and gainfully employed in the productive sector. He was also aware of the fact that the officers had no right to demand that he speak with them without an attorney being present to advise him. He told the officer that “I was going to work, and I told them the address where I would be. I also said that they could send someone to talk to me, but I wasn't going to talk with them without a lawyer.”

Shortly before noon on the following day, an officer had materialized on the Watson family's doorstep, demanding to know if Hershberger was at the home. Carrol Watson, whose immeasurably more important work as a home-schooler was interrupted to deal with the imperious pest, explained that the young man had lived with them as a renter and expected to do so again.

“I shouldn't have said anything to them,” she later recalled, that conclusion fortified by outrage after she had an opportunity compare notes with Hershberger – and realized that the officers had lied to him about her conversation with the officer.

After the raiders arrived later that evening, they ordered Hershberger to walk out to the driveway where he was patted down and interrogated for about a half-hour.
 

“They told me that Mrs. Watson had said I just moved in last summer,” Hershberger told me in Mrs. Watson's presence, prompting a shocked and angry reaction from her. “The officer said to me, `Oh, so you're saying that she lied?' He kept trying to get me to change my answers. I didn't know at the time what Mrs. Watson had told them, but I had no reason to change my story.”

“Yeah, I guess I shouldn't have talked with them, either,” he concluded, regretfully.

At around 11:30 PM, after confiscating dozens of vacuum-sealed packages of elk meat, Zack's bow hunting gear, computer drives, data cards – and deleting a photograph of an officer taken by one of their hostages – the Fish & Game officers left.

“The officer who interrogated me shook my hand and before he left he told me, `The door is still open,'” Hershberger points out.

This was an invitation for the young man to incriminate himself. None of the “evidence” seized by the raiders could prove the charge that Hershberger obtained a hunting license through fraud. (The only possible exception could be the "metadata" information the agency seeks to obtain from his cellphone, which might be used to track his movements during the past year.) In familiar fashion, the officers were hoping to beguile, bully, or brow-beat him into admitting wrongdoing – or, failing that objective, into saying something that could be fashioned into a charge of “obstruction.”

I arrived on the scene about ten minutes before the officers left – just in time to hear Mr. Watson invite them to return under different circumstances to enjoy a meal with the family. In the interest of full disclosure, I must acknowledge that my family and I have been blessed by the Watsons' generosity. Kenneth Watson's son, Scott, is a close friend and professional associate, and our families have attended church together.

Although Kenneth and Carrol weren't home when the raiders showed up, their daughter, son-in-law, and three granddaughters were in the house, along with Hershberger and Carolyn Brewer. One of the granddaughters used her iPod to make a covert recording of the raid, which reveals the intruders to be very well-mannered, but unbearably condescending.
 
Guarding the "King's" livestock: Officer Black (l.)
After the occupants were ordered outside to be patted down “for our safety and yours,” the officer in charge explained that “Once they get the house cleared, everybody can go sit in the living room.... For everybody's safety we need you all contained in there – just 'cause it's easier for us not to have to babysit so many people. We'll put a couple of guys in there to just make sure everybody stays safe.”

This presumptuous fixation on “safety” prompted the demand that the captives surrender their cell phones “because we don't want a bunch of people here.” By that time, however, word of the raid had gotten out. One of the first to learn about the incident was Scott Watson, Jr. (known to family and friends as Scotty), who upon his arrival was told that he would have to leave because “they didn't want `another person to babysit.'”
“I went to visit my grandma, and got threatened with arrest,” Scotty Watson recalled. “My mom called me and said Grandma's house was being raided. I went there, and the driveway was blocked. I just drove around their vehicles and into the yard, and starting walking into the house.”

His way was obstructed by an officer who told him, “We have a search warrant – you're not going beyond this point.”

“I'm going to see my grandma,” Scotty insisted.

“I was just in there,” the armed stranger assured Scotty. “She's smiling and happy as a clam.”

That was another in a rather generous assortment of lies told by that individual and his comrades that evening: Carrol Watson was polite, composed, and coldly furious.

As is so often the case in conversation with law enforcement, the officer served a 100-proof falsehood and chased it with a threat.

“He told me that while my grandma was happy, one thing that wouldn't make her happy would be to see her grandson in handcuffs,” Scott Watson. I asked to see the warrant, and he said `no.' I asked how long I would have to wait, and he said it would be `midnight or later.' And while I was talking to him, one of the other officers was shining a flashlight into my car. When I told him to stop, the officer said that I had `inserted [my] car into [his] search warrant'” – the same warrant they refused to show him.

The uninvited visitors maintained the pretense that they were professionals carrying out an unpleasant by unavoidable duty.


“It's not very fun to have all of us here,” Officer Alexander remarked at one point. “We try to be polite and respectful about it.” Their presence was necessary, he claimed, because “my investigators are pretty convinced that the elk [stored in a freezer] is illegal, because Zack doesn't have a legal license.”

It is important to reiterate that there was no evidence to justify that conclusion, unless we assume that a single uncorroborated allegation constitutes convincing proof.

The warrant, which was blithely endorsed by a local magistrate, cited a “oral affidavit” by "Brian Jack, a conservation officer with the Idaho Department of Fish and Game," as justification for a nighttime raid. That raid, as Alexander informed his hostages, could have been a fully realized military affair, if in his judgment, “officer safety” had required it to be.

Your correspondent at the scene of the raid. (Scott Watson)
“You're a hunting family, we're sure there's guns and knives and all that kind of stuff in the house,” Alexander told Carrol Watson. “Not that anybody [here] is a bad person. We don't think that, or we'd have come in with a SWAT team and everybody else, obviously. We don't think we're going to have any trouble, or we'd have done it differently.”

This remark was apparently intended to leave the Watson family and their guests prostrate with gratitude that their domicile hadn't scored just a little higher on the “threat matrix.” It's important to understand that a guns-drawn raid – making use of a locally available MRAP, most likely – was considered a valid option to carry out a raid that was staged for the sole purpose of punishing somebody who refused to talk with officers in the absence of legal counsel.

The suspect in this case stood accused – on the basis of nothing more substantial than rumor – of cheating the Fish & Game department out of fees it would use on such worthy projects as its inept, profligate, and counter-productive wolf management program.

It could be considered progress of a sort that privileged invaders who disrupted the Watson family's home have learned to display a measure of gentility and self-restraint when they inflict themselves on harmless and law-abiding people. To be specific, it is precisely the same kind of progress we would expect if cannibals learned to use cutlery.

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