A peek into the Justice System, post-conviction...

Here's a story for you, about an incident that occurred recently in which I was involved. Names, of course, have been changed, not to protect the innocent, because let's face it, they're convicts, not a whole lot of innocence there, but mostly to protect my job. This closely involves Partner, mainly because this chucklehead is on his caseload, I was just along for the ride. Now, Goose will likely make a post about this himself at some point, but he's still a bit hot under the collar about it, and it will probably be a while before he cools off enough to write about it.

This case did not originally belong to Goose, but to another Agent who has left our dreary environs to join the Feds. More power to her, however, it leaves people like Goose and myself to pick up in the middle of cases that are in violation, and pending a hearing.

This particular case is a Parole case. The Parolee in question, let's call him 'Bobby', got mixed up in various and sundry things back in the 80's, which culminated in a Burglary conviction, which resulted in a Life sentence. Now, we all know that Life in prison, only means incarceration until you reach the point where you become eligible for Parole. This occurred for Bobby(hehe, I typed Booby there and had to fix it :p ) in the early to mid 90's. Bobby was Paroled, and out in the world for less than a year if I remember correctly. At which point he got involved in some more drama, drug related I believe, had his Parole revoked, and was sent back to prison.

Fast forward another decade or so, and Bobby becomes eligible for Parole again, and is again granted Parole. See, granted Parole, even though he's already been given a shot at it once, and screwed it up. Anyway, Bobby gets out, and starts off ok for the first year or so. He has trouble securing gainful employment, and hence falls behind on his monies. As an aside, anyone under supervision in the state of South Carolina is required to pay a monthly Supervision Fee. Usually in the amount of $50, though I've seen it both higher and lower. That Supervision Fee is in addition to any other fines, court costs, or Restitution ordered by the court, or the Parole Board. So, when an offender gets a certain number of payments behind on his monies, our policy requires us to issue a citation. It's just like it sounds, though it may not be blue like the ticket a patrol officer writes, it alleges violations, and directs the offender to appear for a hearing at a given place and time.

Anyway, Bobby gets himself a citation for monies, and I believe a failed drug test and a missed report. After this, Bobby decides he'd be better off if he just stopped reporting to his Agent all together, and falls off the face of the map. After a couple of months of being unable to locate him, a warrant is issued for his arrest for Absconding Supervision, and placed on file with the local Sheriff's Office, and NCIC. A while after that, Bobby gets stopped for something innocuous, has his name run for wants and warrants, and wins the big prize. Silver Jewelry and an all expenses paid trip to the local extended stay Graybar Hotel. While incarcerated at the Graybar, Bobby goes through a preliminary hearing, in which the hearing officer decides his case should be forwarded to the Parole Board, with a recommendation to Revoke his Parole, and place him as a ward of the State once again.

Bobby is served with a Notice to Appear at the hearing, though we will personally transport him if he is incarcerated at the time of the hearing. Bobby makes bond, and decides he really doesn't want to go to a hearing where he believes he will get tossed back in prison again, so he takes off, again. Once he misses the hearing, a Failure to Appear warrant is issued for his arrest. He is picked up fairly quickly, incarcerated at the local Graybar once again, and a new hearing is scheduled for him.

Now, I don't know how they do things in your state, but here in Carolina, the Parole Board is located in the state capitol, and they certainly aren't going to sully themselves by actually entering a prison, so they hold hearings via video conference, at certain satellite facilities located across the state, all of which are secured within state run penal institutions. Since there are a large number of cases to be heard by the board, both applications for Parole, and hearings for Revocations, they break the board up into 3-member panels for most of the Hearings, and the full board usually only hears cases regarding Parole for violent offenders.

Bobby's case goes in front of a panel board. Goose and I are involved at this point, Goose because Bobby has been reassigned to his caseload, and myself because we're partners, and it takes two to transport. So we head over to the Graybar, hook Bobby up in waist chains and shackles, and transport him to the nearest facility that acts as a satellite for Parole hearings. Well good Lord, you'd have thought it was old home week when we walked in with Bobby. He'd apparently spent his most recent decade of incarceration at this particular facility, and was well liked by the majority of staff there. Everyone was smiling, and telling him they had a spot already reserved for him if he wanted his old job back. Unfortunately, or fortunately I guess, depending on your perspective, the 3-member panel couldn't come to an agreement regarding Bobby's fate, and so his case was forwarded to a hearing of the full board.

We transport Bobby back to the Graybar in our county, drop him off, and chalk it up as a day wasted. Days later, Bobby makes bond and is out again. Wait, perhaps you didn't catch that, Bobby made Bond, on a Failure to Appear warrant. Wrap you mind around that one if you can. Anyway, Bobby gets to spend Christmas and New Years with his family. His hearing in front of the full board is scheduled for this past Wednesday.

Now, Bobby has been doing pretty ok since he made bond, it's only a few weeks, but he's reporting to us on a weekly basis, and doesn't seem inclined to take off and run again. As his hearing date approaches, we go to check to see if he's going to able to arrange his own transportation to the hearing, or if he would like to ride with us. Wonder of wonders, Bobby is back in jail. The Saturday before his hearing in front of the full Parole Board, Bobby gets picked up on new charges of Burglary and Larceny. So once again, we will be picking him up at the Graybar, and transporting him to the hearing.

The fateful day arrives, and we take Bobby down for what we feel will be a one-way trip to prison. I mean, come on, the guy is a convicted felon, for Burglary, has a citation, a warrant for Absconding Supervision, and a warrant for Failure to Appear, as well as pending charges that include a Burglary!! The very crime he is out on Parole for!! Several of Bobby's relatives show up for his hearing, to speak on his behalf to the board. One of them is his brother, a Pastor of a small, Protestant church located in one of the worst neighborhoods in town. Interestingly enough, Bobby's brother, the Pastor, is also on speaking terms with each and every member of the current Parole Board. Now, whether or not those relationships had any effect on the outcome, I don't know, one can only conjecture. I do know that the 'discussion', where the board members discuss the merits of the case amongst themselves, went on for an abnormally long time, and became quite heated, with voices raised to an uncivil level. Suffice it to say that about 30 minutes later, the Parole Examiner exits the room with his jaw somewhere South of his toes, to inform us that the Board had reached it's decision. That decision being to allow Bobby to remain out in the community, on Parole, and with no punitive action taken for either his violations listed on the citation and warrants, or the pending charges, other than the money he spent on bond, and the time he spent in the Graybar prior to making bond..

We transport Bobby back to the local Graybar, where he will still have to make bond on his pending charges, and once again, consider our day wasted. I will admit though, that the whole time we were transporting Bobby back to the Graybar, I was considering taking off with him to Vegas, cause that kind of luck just shouldn't be wasted.

So there you have it, a peek into one instance of our criminal justice system, after someone has been convicted. Is it any wonder that alcoholism rates are so high among law enforcement officers? You play by all the rules, make an airtight case, and someone else comes along, throws that case out the window, and pulls a judgment out Lord knows where. It's like a big old slap in the face. Not only to us, and the other officers involved, but to each and every person out on Parole or Probation, who struggles to obey the rules so that they can stay out in the community, and then has someone who does the exact opposite, and still gets to stay out in the community. It makes them wonder why they work so hard to stay straight.

Till next time, stay safe...


Casey

Lazy in Massachusetts

So, I've had the whole week off while I've been in the VolksRepublik for the last week visiting with the In-Laws. I've thought several times about posting, maybe throwing in a picture of two for the non-believers, but, I'm basically a lazy guy when I'm on vacation. So I didn't. I'll try to make up for some of that here in the near future, but thought I'd go ahead and fill you in on my holidays. First off, I hope all of yours were happy, and that you got exactly what you wanted, or at least, what you deserved :)

We drove on up to Charlotte last weekend to catch our flight into Yankee-Land. I, for one, had no idea it would be that crazy at the airport, almost a full week before Christmas. Apparently, the time doesn't matter, as long as it's the Saturday before Christmas. The airport was absolutely packed, and we stood in a line for almost an hour, just waiting to check in our bags and get our boarding passes. Though there was entertainment while we waited. Directly in front of us in line stood a couple. The gentleman was probably mid to late 40s, his companion a few years younger. The gentleman was dressed in a nice suit, a little flashy for my tastes with the silk and the bold color choices, but what really made the outfit, was the floor-length, grey fur coat he was wearing. I'm not talking a coat with a fur collar and cuffs, I mean beautiful grey fur top to bottom. It was like straight out of a 70's blacksploitation movie. The entertainment part came next. Do you know how hard it is to keep two small children under 4 years old from reaching out and 'petting' the 'pretty'?? Well, I certainly do now, and let me tell you, it was exhausting. But to be honest, that was the hardest part. The flight was smooth, the kids behaved, and everything went well. The only hiccup at all was dealing with TSA in Charlotte. Some woman who really shouldn't be in a position where she has to deal with people, got her panties all in a wad because I didn't push my little bin far enough into the machine. While I was trying to wrangle a 3 year old and a 19 month old as my wife was getting her own stuff into her bin. This led her to pull us off to the side, so that she could force us to open up my 19 month old's sippy cup of apple juice, which she was drinking from(!), so they could wave the sniffer over it and make sure it wasn't some sort of liquid explosive. Absolutely ridiculous behavior, from someone who should not be in a position of authority over a turnip, much less, honest citizens.

So we land in Taxachusetts, and make the drive out to the In-Laws on Cape Ann, bout an hour or so North and East of Boston. The temp there, is hovering right at about 30 degrees....Fahrenheit...and it was the high temp for the day!! Bad news, storm forecast to blow in that night. We get settled in, have a good evening, and toddle off to bed. I wake up the next morning, or should I say I was woken up by my 3 year old wanting to snuggle at about 0600. That lasts for maybe 20 minutes or so before all the squirming gets to be too much, and we just go ahead and get up and get the day started. I look out the window.....not good. 6+ inches of snow on the ground, still snowing heavily, and not predicted to end any time soon. I see shoveling in my future. My Father In Law confirms shoveling, but states it won't begin until after lunch. I watch the approaching hour with dread. You have to understand, I'm a good Southern Boy, and to me, snow means sitting tight for a day or so, it'll melt and go away. The biggest problem will be power outages from all the ice building up on trees, causing them to fall and break power lines.

When they say snow up north, they don't mean the heavy, wet, stuff the glops on your windshield and forms slush on the roads. (as an aside, whenever it snows down south, you almost always see cars in the ditches, and often as not, it's someone from up north who thinks they know how to drive in snow, they don't realize that in the south, an inch of snow on the ground means a quarter inch of ice underneath it, and there's no driving on that crap) The snow falling that day, was light, dry, fluffy, and plentiful. Plentiful meaning that by the time we got out there after lunch, there were between 12 and 14 inches on the ground, drifts of two to three feet, and still snow falling. Here's where the real craziness kicks in. I was standing knee deep in snow, trying to shovel off a clear spot to stand so that I could shovel snow, while it was still snowing! I don't know about you, but that's just unnatural in my book.

3 hours plus of shoveling, and you'd think the driveway would be clear. You'd be wrong. There was another three quarters of an inch on the drive that had fallen while I was shoveling, but I left that where it lay. I thought it was particularly tortuous, that might wife and Mother In Law bundled up the girls and brought them out to play in the snow while I was shoveling it. They got to go back inside when they got cold, I on the other hand, got to keep on shoveling :/

Aside from that, it was a great trip. I kept meaning to get on and make a post, but things kept getting in the way, usually either small children, or, after they went to bed at night, bottles that needed emptying. No apologies, I enjoyed myself immensely :)

One note, we flew back this past Saturday, the day after Christmas, and the day after the attempted airline bombing. The staff at Logan airport in Boston were exemplary. The only delay was because of weather affecting the flight coming into Boston, so that we were about a half hour late in boarding and taking off. Even then, they somehow made up that time while in the air, so that we landed at Charlotte at the originally scheduled time. Both the airline staff and the TSA employees at Logan were courteous and helpful, and restored me somewhat after my TSA experience in Charlotte.

Over all, a great trip, and I hope you all enjoyed your holiday as much as I did mine.


Casey

Concealed Carry Considerations...

Certain issues are rarely discussed. I notice when I read books, and I read a great deal, or watch TV, which I also seem to do a great deal, certain things are never covered. To whit, bodily functions. I'm not saying it doesn't happen, but it's fairly rare that your read a novel, watch a movie or television program(aside from a crude comedy) where they mention the main characters sitting on the john. So here's a question, possibly taboo, that deals with an issue that anyone who carries a weapon, concealed or not, has probably dealt with, or if they haven't, should give it some serious thought.

What do you do with your carry piece, when you're on the crapper?

I ask this, because I see a lot of holsters designed for concealed carry, that are not retention holsters, and rely strictly on friction to keep a revolver or pistol in place. Most all duty holsters these days have some sort of positive retention device, that requires an action to be accomplished before the gun will be released from the holster. Be it a simple thumb snap on a Level 1, or the litany of digital gymnastics required to get into some of the highest level retention holsters, something actively holds the weapon in place. Of course, that's just duty holsters for people in uniform. I've seen plainclothes folk who don't use retention holsters. I've also seen duty weapons go skittering across a tiled floor when some one was in a rush to get down to business.

After the first time I saw that, I made sure that the holsters I used for carry off-duty, had some sort of retention. At minimum, the ever popular thumb break. Now, with the way they're making things out of Kydex and what not, I've seen, and even own one, those holsters that are form shaped so that the trigger guard snaps into a detent inside the holster, and requires either a hearty pull, or a thumb pushing down on the inner edge of the holster as you draw to get the detent to release the weapon.

I generally use a retention holster, affixed to a paddle. That way, it's easy on and off, without doing the jiggle dance trying to get it on my belt, and the belt through the loops behind my hip and then in front, etc., etc.. It also makes it easy to use the same holster for field duty, office duty, court duty, extraditions, etc., because I don't have to worry about whether the belt will hold up the holster without rolling, as the paddle slips inside my waistline. This set-up, also works effectively for the aforementioned pit stops.

Granted, things are different when you're at home, but let's face the facts, it's when you're out in the field, forced to grab something quick from a questionable establishment(Snowman's reference to a Choke N' Puke in the movie Smokey and the Bandit comes to mind), that you're going to have to hit the crapper, possibly urgently, in an unfamiliar setting. So what are you going to do with that weapon when the time comes?

I generally try to avail myself of a Handicapped stall. I'm guessing Handicapped isn't the appropriately PC term anymore, but I figure you'll understand what I mean. They generally have a handrail on at least one side, if not both sides of the stall. I've found that a holster with a paddle snugs right down into the gap between the rail and the wall quite nicely, and is secure. Not that I expect to be assaulted when in the crapper, but it'd be hell to be sitting there, and see an arm come over the top of the stall door, and snag that duty belt, rig and all, and lift it off the hook on the back of the door, and not really be in a position to hop up and do anything about it. I've also noticed, usually on uniform guys, that weapon flopping loose as pants and duty belt are around the ankles. If someone knew the trick to getting a weapon out of a particular holster, all it would take would be reaching down and grabbing it. By the time the 'sitter' realized what was happening, it would be too late.

So, what do you do with your piece when you're sitting on the porcelain throne, in an unfamiliar setting? If you haven't thought about it, you should, as the situation is bound to arise, sooner or later. Probably sooner if you eat a lot of low-end food prepared and served by folks that are probably my regulars :p

Take care all,


Casey

Work is affecting my vision....

Not that I need glasses or anything, but I've come to realize that my work has definitely colored how I look at the world around me, and those within it.

I came to this realization, after an incident that occurred while eating lunch in our break room the other day. One of the other agents brought some magazines in and left them in the break room. I don't recall the title, but it seems to be a magazine geared towards women, and especially mothers who are home makers. At least, that's how it seems to me, I could be way off base as to their target audience. Anyway, there was an article written in it, and the woman writing it was talking about how whenever she got ready to take her kids out, she always thought about how dangerous it is outside the home. I'm thinking that's probably something that's good to be aware of. Then I read the next sentence, where she listed the dangers that concern her and make her nervous about taking her kids out. Germy door handles, car exhaust fumes, dog poo in the park,and ultra-violet radiation.

I was stunned. I pointed it out to my fellow brown bagger, Goose, and he expressed sentiments similar to my own. I'm thinking car exhaust....you need to be worried about the tweaking meth-head on the corner with the rusty steak knife in his waist band. Dog poo in the park..what about the sex offender sitting on the bench off by himself who's nervous tic indicates he's ready to re-offend. UV rays...what about the nice looking young guy walking along the side-walk who actually crazy, off his meds, and the shallow breathing indicates he's about a hair away from losing it.

The list goes on and on. My wife thinks I'm being dramatic when I see a car stop on the road in front of our house, slowly back up twenty feet, pull forward again, and go back and forth several more times, and I step to the door with a gun in hand as I peer out to see what's going on. It occurs to me, that she knows about the guy who lives four doors down from us that is under supervision because he killed someone(because I told her about it so she would be aware), but I don't tell her most of the rest of it. She doesn't know about the guy who lives less than a mile from our house(which is pretty close out here in the sticks) that's a convicted child molester. She doesn't know about the red-necked dirt bag that cooks methamphetamine less than 4 miles from our house, who I'm assisting the Feds to build a case against. She doesn't know that one of the guys who I sent to prison for 8 years, has family three miles down the road from us, who know where I live, because they happened to drive by one day while I was working in the yard. She doesn't know any of the hundreds of disgusting things I know about the people living within a 10 or 15 mile radius of our home.

I deal with the dregs of society every day, and I know not only what people are capable of, but how many of them there are in my area. I also know, that living out in the sticks, there's one Deputy on duty in my area most times of the day or night. If I were to get really lucky with a 9-1-1 call, he might be only 5 or 6 minutes away, and any further back up, at least half again that time. He's a decent guy, and a good cop, but he can't be everywhere at once. That's why I approach anything suspicious with a gun in hand. As a Boy Scout, many, many years ago, I learned the old maxim, "It's better to have something and not need it, than to need it, and not have it." This goes doubly for a means of protection, when you don't know if the guy slowing down at your mailbox is just lost, or looking for a victim.

My wife thinks it's drama, I think it's caution, but it does occur to me, that a few years ago, before I started this job, I might have just walked up there to see what was going on with the people in that car. Now, I only go to the door and observe, with gun in hand, until the car leaves, or I figure out what's going on and can make a further decision as to what to do.

So while maybe not everyone is a criminal, with nefarious thoughts or plans, I tend to look at most people I don't know, as potential criminals, and assess from there. Definitely a change brought on by the job. Not sure if I should try to do anything about it, or if I even want to. Better to be too cautious, then not enough.....


Take care all, and stay safe...



Casey

Earwig...

Not your normal earwig of a popular song, but one from being a parent. I have the theme song from Dinosaur Train stuck in my head. You can get a listen here, if you're interested. It's a PBS show, which basically teaches kids about dinosaurs, and life, all at the same time.

I have to admit, between a questionable guy, in a purple dinosaur suit, singing about free love, and an animated baby Tarandon, singing a song about how everybody poops, I'll take the poop every time :)

Heck, if there have to be kid shows on the TV on Saturday mornings, it may as well be ones that I can enjoy too :) And the tunes are catchy too :)


Casey

Wierdness in the air last night....

Or....

Men In Black and their Nifty Toys....


Hehe, so last night, I step out for a smoke. I wander out into the driveway and am gazing up at the stars in a clear sky, when I hear a bit of rotor thump. Now, I'm no expert when it comes to flying machines. I'm not one of those who can sit around drinking a cup of coffee, hear the tiniest bit of engine noise in the air, and be able to identify what it is, how fast it's moving, and what direction it's going.

I did, however, grow up on and around small airfields. My grandfather was a pilot, and had a small, grass strip runway, so I've been around small craft most of my life, and am familiar with how they move, etc.

Anyway, I hear this bit of rotor thump from a helicopter, look around, and catch sight of an aircraft off to my north. I assume it was a helicopter, or rotary-winged aircraft for you sticklers, mainly because of the rotor thump I heard. It being pretty dark outside, what with it being night and all, I couldn't get a silhouette to look at and identify. The first thing I noticed that was odd, was that it had a red light on the nose, with an amber/orange blinking light flashing underneath and to the rear. I don't know what configuration of lights aircraft are supposed to run, but I don't recall ever seeing solid red and flashing orange on an aircraft as a kid.

The second thing that struck me as being odd, and this was really odd, was that as I was watching it fly almost due South towards me, I suddenly stopped hearing the rotor thump. I listened for a moment, and realized that I could hear, faintly, an engine running, but could no longer hear the thump of the rotors. Me being a fairly curious guy, I decided I'd watch this thing to see what else was going to happen.

So I watch this craft come towards me, closer and closer. I notice that it's fairly high up in the air. Most of the time when I see helicopters flying over the mountains, they're normally only clearing the mountains by a couple of hundred feet or so. This one last night was easily over eight hundred feet up, and probably closer to a thousand feet up. Now, that could be strictly because of the darkness and not taking chances, but I noticed it, so thought I'd mention it as well. So I watch this thing, heading towards the mountain I live on, hearing the engine noise get slowly clearer and more distinct, much as you can hear a car better the closer it gets.

As it gets closer to the mountain, probably a mile or less North of my position, it suddenly bears off to the West, and does a little curly-cue maneuver at about the spot where it looks like it would be over a small university ball field that's a few miles from my house. The little maneuver takes a few seconds, then this thing starts bee-lining due East from that position. I stand there watching it go across the sky North of my position, and suddenly realize that the lights have changed on it. It no longer has a steady red and flashing orange, but now has a steady green on the nose, and flashing white underneath. It retains this light scheme for the remainder of the time I can see it.

It heads East for a couple of miles maybe, and starts swinging back South, at about the point that it would start crossing over a nearby rural highway. As it starts swinging South, it looks like the southern movement, is just part of an arc described as they're moving West. This time, I'm looking at it as it moves South of my house, and it comes to a stop, hovering, about where I'd guesstimate it to be above a local, community ball field.

Interestingly enough, as it's hovers for a few seconds, I suddenly hear a half dozen or so rotor thumps, which disappear again, as the aircraft starts heading due North again. It passes maybe half a hundred yards West of my position, and of course, way on up, so I can only ever see the lights, and hear the hum of the engine. I continues to watch it as it headed North, until I lost it over the crest of the next mountain. This whole observation lasted probably ten minutes, or less.

I have to admit, that it was a fairly odd experience. I've never seen anything like it. As I mentioned, I'm no expert, but have we got helicopters in the air that somehow can silence their rotor thump, but not their engine noise? If so, could someone point me in the right direction to learn a bit about them?

Hope everyone is having a good weekend!


Casey

Name that book!

I'm reading a trilogy of books right now, The Fionavar Tapestry(hmm, can't figure out how to underline...oh well), by Guy Gavriel Kay. I'm reading them because a friend gifted me with them saying that I might like them, as they are about a group of college students that get magically transported to a fantasy land.

I immediately jumped on the offer, as I flashed back to a book I read as a young lad, lo these many years ago. Alas, these books do not contain the story a read mumblety-years ago. I'm about halfway through the first one, and while it is intriguing, I keep getting distracted trying to remember the story I read so long ago.

So I thought I'd throw it out on the net, on the off chance that someone that stops by here might have read that story, and can tell me what the name was, so that I can track down a copy of it for myself.

What I remember of it is only vague, and a little sketchy. It would have been early, early 1980s, not too terribly long after D&D made it's appearance, and grabbed the imaginations of kids(of all ages) like a bear trap. I seem to remember that the premise was that of a group of college age students, who got together fairly regular for a fantasy gaming group, run by someone a little older than themselves, possibly a professor type. The DM somehow figured out a way to transport the group into the D&D-type game they were playing, with the members of the group becoming the characters that they played. Two things stand out in my, admittedly hazy, memory. One, the DM gathered various sundries that would approximate the gear their characters would use, and stored it in wooden trunks, one for each player/character, to be transported with them. Secondly, and possibly most identifying to someone who has read the story, I recall that the player who played a thief-type character, was greatly into the role-playing aspect of the game. Consequently, the character he played had only one hand, or maybe it was one eye, I don't recall exactly which, but I do know the player was initially horrified after the transfer, to find himself so handicapped when he became his character.

Does any of that ring any bells with anyone? I've read so much fantasy since then, that I've totally lost anything else that might have been specific to that book, but I do remember liking it at the time. Of course, it could be absolute crap writing, but to a mumblety-teen year old boy it was amazing, and got me to branch out from reading almost exclusively westerns, to almost exclusively Fantasy/Sci-Fi genre.

If anyone had the faintest idea of what that might be, please, please, please let me know, so I can kill this niggle-worm, and track down a copy of the book for myself :)

Thanks,

Casey