Semper Fi

Richie is away for a while, but in his place one of his pals, Officer Friendly, takes a look into the reader mailbag.

 
Dear Officer Friendly,

I was watching “Cops” the other day and they were arresting someone. How come it took five big guys to arrest one little dude ?  Yah, he was fighting back, but it didn’t need five guys to pounce on him.

Signed,

TV Viewer

Dear TV  viewer,

Nothing is ever as it seems to be, and nothing ever goes the way you might want it to. Once an Officer has made a determination to effect an arrest he is allowed to use all due force necessary to effect that arrest.  This goes from the bottom of the spectrum, Verbal Commands; all the way to Display or Use of Firearm.  Not all force levels are appropriate, naturally, it depends on the nature of the Offense. 

Most Officers are average build and average height; some like “The Weasel” are large individuals, and some, like myself, aren’t.  Therefore different force options may be called for in my case, as compared to “The Weasel”.  Contrary to popular belief, Officers don’t want to use force. They would much prefer that people just follow their instructions. A fight will cause the Officer to get dirty and sweaty, he might tear his uniform, he also might get hurt.  The Officer has to write a specific “Response to Resistance” report, and if the suspect gets hurt he has to be brought to hospital before going to jail.  All of this takes time; and one arrest early in the shift could tie the Officer up for the full shift.

To avoid all this it sometimes takes 2 or 3 or more Officers to effect an arrest without having to beat the suspect into the next century; especially when the suspect is actively resisting and doing all he can to injure and or all of the involved Officers !  If you don’t think it’s difficult, I’ll give you a set of cuffs and let you try to take that large drunken biker gang member into custody !  Let’s see how well YOU do !   

Then there is the potential for a Personnel Complaint. A PC is the gift that keeps on giving.  Get too many of these, and it won’t matter if you’ve been cleared in all cases; the burden will fall on you to prove you DIDN’T use excessive force.  Worse, you might have to go for “sensitivity training” or some other similar foolishness. After a while, many otherwise good cops go ROAD (Retired on Active Duty) just to avoid situations where a PC could eventuate.

The worst thing to happen is getting sued. Our society today is so litigious that people sue at the drop of a hat.  It’s a sport that anyone can get into, and the occasional payout makes it worthwhile. Nothing aggravates an Officer more than having to go to Court over such a suit.  Besides the damage to his reputation and the cost to the Agency, the Officer could be required to pay personal damages; up to and including losing his life savings or the house he has worked years to acquire.  Which is another reason why Officers don’t want to use force unless absolutely necessary.

Finally, there are some individuals whose psychological makeup prevents them from doing anything peaceful.  They have resisted any authority in their life for all of their life; and any encounter with Police tends to be violent.  A dog signlas his intent by growling and putting his ears back; a snake will coil and hiss, a cat will arch its back and make cat noises; well, these fellows posture, mouth off, stamp around, and like a small child throw a tantrum.  With these people there is no choice and force is the only available option.

Signed

Officer Friendly

 
Dear Officer Friendly,

The neighbors keep parking their car in front of my house.  That’s MY parking place. I want you to give them a ticket and tow their car away.

Signed

Angry Lewiston Taxpayer.

Dear ALT,

Contrary to popular opinion the places on the streets in front of residences are not the property of the people residing there.  The City owns the streets and a set-back from the street of anywhere from 2 to 10 feet.  Where I live my street setback is about 7 feet.  The city owns it, but I mow it and treat it as part of my yard.  Looks better that way.

Any vehicle that is on the street legally may be parked in any appropriately available space.  Obviously this precludes things like Fire Hydrants, or handicapped parking unless they have a placard.  Your neighbor can park on the street in front of your house all he wants and there isn’t a thing you can do about it.  If you don’t like that . . . move.

Signed

Officer Friendly

Mark’s recent article brings to mind a number of incidents I had the occasion to observe in the course of 25 years in the Police Service.  Police get called to incidents called “Person Cared For”; meaning an unknown situation generally requiring some level of medical attention.  Sometimes these calls are as simple as “So and so lay down to take a nap, and now they won’t wake up !”; up to “We haven’t seen so-and-so for a while, and, gee, there’s a really bad smell in the hall outside their apartment !”  The Officer responds and determines what the situation is; changing it to “Unattended Death” or “Attended Death”. The simple difference is whether there is a Doctor of Record who can sign off the death certificate.  Officer investigation or referral to the Coroner office determines the level of investigation.  Most of the time we get it right, but every now and again we get it wrong.

I was working as dispatcher one fine morning when I receive a call from a downtown businessman.  He reports someone broke into a storage area in his store, made a mess of the place, broke a window, spilled rust-colored paint on the floor (it was an art supply place) and may or may not have stolen some stuff.  I start the Complaint as “Burglary / Criminal Mischief” and send the Beat Officer to the call.  He clears shortly afterwards; no big deal, right ?  Wrongo, dear children. Big time !   A day or two later a corpse is found in an adjoining town rolled up in a carpet, as I remember.  Turns out he had been beaten and murdered  in the back of that business, with the body removed and dumped in another town !!  The spilled paint turns out to be blood, and the mess was from the killers trying to clean up the mess !!   Big investigation !!  I was interrogated by Internal Affairs about this and it was no fun, let me tell you !!  Fortunately, I had done everything by the book so I was all set. 

Then there was the time I was sent to a funeral home for a report of Disturbance - Noise, a report of a woman screaming.   I roll up and park out front.  I go up to the front door and find it unlocked. Entering, it’s all dark and spooky inside just like a typical monster movie.  I hear the woman screaming upstairs; howling like a banshee.  “Aaaaaa !” , as loud as she could, over and over and over !  Of course now I’m scared; I mean, WTF !!

I pull my pistol (we had revolvers back then, K-frame .357’s) and doing my best movement to contact I sneak-and-creep to the stairs up.  Along the way I get frightened by a corpse laid out on a processing table & only by the greatest force of will hold back from putting two or three rounds into it.  I’m worried about zombies & such.  The banshee chorus is still howling upstairs.  I make my way to the stairs & move up carefully and quietly.  First room at the top of the stair, the door is open.  I’m going to have to use my room-clearing skills here, very carefully.  I sneak up and carefully peek around the door frame.  And what do I see?

Just damn.  There’s a naked guy laying on the floor.  No weapon in hand, but he’s got a small hole in his head and there is blood running out of it in slow pulses.  I look around, locate and retrieve a .45 cal pistol.   Aw, crap !  This guy’s shot himself !  I call it in to Despatch, and the Sergeant & Lieutenant respond out since the shooter is known to them from other prior criminal involvements.

Turns out it’s mom down the hallway; and it’s her son on the floor.  Turns out too, that the guy was a druggie, and had contracted an STD one gets from sex with corpses. He had passed this on to his live human girlfriend who was less than pleased by this.  In this event he was wired on cocaine, and running around the house in his underwear yelling for Jesus to save him.  He then went into his room and shot himself. 

I remember being fascinated by how much blood drained out of him from the small entry and exit wounds.  You don’t bleed when you’re dead, although you can drain out if the drain point is low enough for gravity to come into play.  This was my first suicide call, although I had been to dead body calls before this.  In the time we were there the body faded from normal pinkish color to a blanched-white color. The blood separated into two distinct constituent parts.  Fascinating stuff !  Almost to distension to the eyes or face, just a simple entry-exit head wound.  No medical chance for him at all.

One time I got sent to Blake Street for a report of “Shots Fired”. Well, that’s an active gun call, so a bunch of us responded. It was night time so we spread out through the area and tried to track down the shooter.  I come around the corner of a building and I find a guy sitting on the ground leaning against an apartment building. On the ground by his hand I see a rifle or shotgun . Well, I point my pistol at him and yell “Don’t you fucking move !” in my best Policeman voice.  He complies with alacrity.  Turns out he’s a deader, shot himself with a shotgun.  Fascinating how you could look at him from the left side and see a normal silhouette; but when you looked from the front you could see he was missing the entire right side of his face / head.  Much of it was dispersed up the side of the 3 story apartment building as a fairly fine mist.  It was like looking at something on Discovery TV; you know, “Human Brain Exposed”, that sort of thing.

Saddest one I every went to was at a local motel.  Young lady, working as a waitress, living at a rent-by-the-week place. For some reason the property owner was concerned and called the Police. I was sent to the call. Using the property owner key we went into the room.  The woman had taken off her clothes and folded everything neatly on a chair.

She was tucked neatly under the blankets in bed.  No note found, but she had taken an overdose of prescribed meds.  Since the room was warm, the after-death process was operating and I could just barely catch the distinct scent of death.  What in her life had made it so empty, so hurtful, so painful, that this was her only choice ?  We never found out, family & friends were unable or unwilling to offer anything.  She just went to sleep, and didn’t bother to wake up.  I still think about that today; even though 25 years have passed. 

By Richie

I was reading the paper other day and had occasion to look at the Sunspots Column. Some moron had written in whining and crying about how Sunspots hadn’t answered their question. Knowing that the editor of the Sunspots column just sits around doing a whole lot of nothing, playing FreeCell, eating chocolates, and surfing the internet; I expected the errant item in question to be “Dear Sunspots, how do I bring about world peace” or “Dear Sunspots, how can I end world hunger.” You know, something important and earth shattering.

Well, I read on and I see that the syphilitic moron wanted the phone numbers for the various local TV stations. My sympathy went out to the Sunspots editor. I mean, these morons are soooo lazy they can’t even be bothered to pick up a phone book and look it up themselves. And when their question got the attention it deserved (none!) they berated Sunspots for that. That brought to mind some of the stupid stuff people call Police Despatchers for.

I had the opportunity serve as Radio-Telephone Operator for about 3 years. Way back in the ancient days we had a manually operated switchboard like what they used during WW-II. We had five lines; and each line had 5 settings, plus additional switches for other unknown mystery functions. You had to be careful with switches since moving even one of them to the wrong positions could cause you a lot of grief. One time I made the mistake of accidentally cutting off the Chief. He was from the old school and it took him about one second to teleport to a position just a few inches away from me. He invaded my personal space ! He commented at length on my parents, or lack of same! He commented about my IQ! He made a number of comments that I just can’t repeat! When he left, I had to stand and check myself & see if I had any butt left after a world-class ass chewing.

Most calls to the Police are relatively normal. Reports of a fire, or a car crash; a street disturbance, what ever. Sometimes they’re a bit unusual; like a person reporting criminal mischief to his business, and there’s all sorts of red paint all over the floor. It was later determined to have been the scene of a homicide. Fortunately I only disptached the call, but I still was interviewed by Detectives investigating the matter. But every now and again, there are calls or walk-in complainants for which there is little explanation. I remember one fellow who kept haunting the front window. He was complaining he could hear people talking on the phone in his head. He wanted the Police to make them stop. I told him how to make a tin-foil helmet to block the signals. Seems to have worked, he didn’t come back. Can’t do that now days; instead we’d be calling those people and tell them to stop bothering the complainant.

Then there were the calls in the winter asking if there was school today You wouldn’t mind if only one or two called, but by the time the 20th or so had called, I had had enough.

“Gee lady, I dunno; this is the Police Department. You might wanna call the School Department. Or, maybe you wanna listen to the radio or watch the TV. Thanks for calling.” Stupid people! Or, then there were the idiots asking “when does the parade start”, and foolishness like that. People might call asking where something was, in Lewiston. That was OK, there weren’t a lot of them, and they were polite. But then people would call asking how to get to someplace out of state. Now, this was before Google and MapQuest. I mean, WTF, are we AAA or something?

Then there was the woman calling to complain about teenagers. She wanted me to send an Officer right away; they were out there on the corner “hanging around”. Now, this is about 6 in the evening, on a warm summer night. Are they doing anything besides hanging around; I mean, like fighting or something? “No, they’re talking, and . . . hanging around.” (I can picture her peeking out between closed curtains) Well, I’m not sending anyone for that, I tell her. “Well, they’re playing their music too loud! Nope, still not gonna send a cop to harass them. (This is back before boom-boxes and (c)rap music) “Well . . . they’re doing drugs! Ya, they’re doing drugs out there!” Notice how she kept looking for the right button to push? Yup, this is an Idiot Call of quality! I finally send a car by there to check on things, just to get her off the phone; the Officer radios in that the teens were gone by the time he arrived. Stupid people.

So they still get calls like this today? I asked the current group of dispatchers.

Oh yes, they get it all, and more. There’s a Jay Leno video floating around demonstrating the sorts of stupid calls Dispatchers get.

So yes, I feel sorry for the Sunspots Editor. What I’d love to see her respond is: “No, fart breath, we didn’t get your stupid letter, and if we did we’d have thrown it out. Go learn how to use a phone book, you mental defective.”

Idiots, ya gotta love ‘em.

Richie is away for a while, but in his place one of his pals, Officer Friendly,takes a look into the reader mailbag.

Dear Officer Friendly,

I heard that you guys have to meet a certain quota of parking tickets and speeding tickets.Why is that? Do you guys need the money that badly or what?

Signed, Angry Driver

Dear Angry Driver,

Officers generally don’t write that many parking tickets any more, other than for specific and particular reasons; blocking a hydrant, or handicap access; that sort of thing. During the day we have Traffic Enforcement personnel who enforce the overtime parking statutes. Any fines collected go straight to the City of Lewiston and most assuredly NOT to the Police Department.

Speeding ticket are another matter. Although there are no quotas in either case, Officer can and will write traffic Infraction or Misdemeanor summonses when and where and as often as appropriate. I can only speak to my own experience; different Officers have different opinions. I would wish we only had a quota. Unfortunately, there are no lack of drivers who bring themselves to the attention of an Officer and end up getting a summons or two. No inspection or expired inspection sticker ? You might just as well wave a flag or shoot a flare to call attention to yourself ! Or, perhaps do any one of a number of things to draw an Officers attention; like, be real cool and squeal your tires, or, maybe run with a loud muffler (after all, you can’t be cool unless everyone sees you, right ?), or drive around with a “Free Abu Mumia Jamal” sticker on your car. Oh no; we never lack for people who want a summons ! The best part is that many of our clients are repeat customers; they just can’t stop themselves from doing the behavior that gets them in trouble. I mean, what’s that all about ?

Lastly, any and all fines assessed by the Courts goes straight to the State of Maine. The Police Department does not get one cent of it.

SignedOfficer Friendly

Dear Officer Friendly,

What should I do if I’ m stopped by an Officer ? I’m innocent! I didn’t do anything!

Signed Just Curious

Dear Curious,

Years ago Officers didn’t have to worry about personal safety quite as much as they do now. Now, we are considerably more cautious. Pull over when signaled. Don’t make any sudden moves like reaching under the seat for something. The Officer is going to ask for your license, car registration & insurance form. Have them ready ! Be polite. If he gives you a ticket; sign the form (it’s not an admission of guilt, it merely acknowledges you got the ticket) and move on. Court is the place where you can argue to your hearts content with an impartial Judge to hear you.

DON’T go on about why is the Officer stopping you. He’ll explain it to you. DON’T play the “I didn’t do anything !” game. It doesn’t work. If you didn’t do anything, he wouldn’t have stopped you !! If you deny the validity of the stop, in other words, denying his Probable Cause, then to safeguard himself he pretty much HAS to give you a ticket.

Always tell the truth. Nothing frosts an Officer more than to be lied-to. Lie to the Officer; you better expect a summons or two.

Back when I was in college in Massachusetts, I had to drive from Lawrence to Boston down 93 on a daily basis. Sometimes I was running late, and yes, I would exceed the posted speed limit. And yes, I would get stopped. I knew what I did. I knew I was wrong. I always had my paperwork ready for the Officer when he walked up to the car.

I always kept hands in sight on the steering wheel. No sudden moves or foolishness.

I always said something like “Ya, Officer, you got me; I was going a tad fast. I was in a rush to get to school.” I would further explain what ever I thought might garner sympathy. Well, you catch more flies with honey than vinegar; and I never got a ticket. Got a bunch of warnings; and thank God I never seemed to get the same cop twice !

I never had a problem determining who got a ticket and who got a warning. Sometimes merely effecting the vehicle stop was a sufficient enforcement action. Some people though, just had to have a ticket; they would make that extremely clear, and so I would be glad to oblige them.

Hope that helps.

Signed Officer Friendly

By “Richie”

In 1978 I was a new guy. I had completed my Probationary Period and was now a full member of the Department but I was still a Newbie. That Fall I got sent to the Maine Criminal Justice Academy when it was still in Waterville. I would go to the Academy during the week and come home for the week-end. My wife would book me for overtime (we call them “doubles”) and then let me know what extra shift I was working when I got home. Usually, I would work a Saturday or a Sunday 4 to midnight shift; or an occasional Day Shift.

For some reason, summer and fall that year were unusually warm. The Franco-Fest was held in Kennedy Park, but the beer tent hadn’t yet garnered the fame it would subsequently acquire. Many more people lived in the downtown area than now days, so of course, with nothing other to do, they just hung around waiting for some sort of entertainment to begin. There were other events that year; Randall Road and the “Battle of the Barn” comes to mind, but this afternoons festivities would be the most exciting thing I ever participated in; exceeding even the time the hippies tried to storm the main gate of the military installation I was at.

Since there was so much activity downtown they had us doubled-up in the cruisers. I was riding with an old hand by the name of Mike Moyer. Mike had been on some 8-10 yrs or so and knew which side of the bread got the butter. We’re up on Bates Street at the top of the Park. Occasionally we’d stop, break up a scuffle, keep people moving along; you know, the usual stuff cops do. And while we were certainly keeping an eye on things, we most assuredly weren’t ready for events to come !

We se a couple of drunken mopes having at each other; which is usually pretty funny. It’s almost like Hobo Fights; but less blood. Anyways, Mike yells to them to break it up & get outta here. He’s not pissed or anything; he just tells them in his usual laid back manner. Well, one of the mopes ambles off, but the other one decides to express himself; to the entertainment and pleasure of the crowd. Mr. Wise Ass flips the double-bird (each hand / middle finger) alternating this with up-and-down motions and augmented by a series of pelvic thrusts that would make Elvis blush. There was also the verbal comments about our parents, animals, the sexuality of all and sundry concerned; you know what I mean. We’d had a lot of that that day; but generally the mopes would give it up when they saw they weren’t impressing anyone. Well not this time.

Mike slams the car into park right in the middle of the street. “Bring your stick” he says (referring to our old hard-plastic Police Batons) as he jumps out. We make sure the car is secured; and then proceed to run down Mr. Wise Ass. Mike muckles onto him and woo hoo ! - fights on ! Mike is proceed to educate the mope that resistance is futile and that he will be assimilated. Since Mike has got it all in hand, I’m not as actively involved. Somehow, someway, I can almost feel the pressure; and when I look around; Holy Shit ! where’d all these people come from ?! They’ve got us surrounded; like, must be a couple hundred people !!

There wasn’t that many in the entire park just a minute ago; where were they all hiding ?! Well, they’re pressing in and howling for blood - ours !! I pull out my baton and start using crowd control techniques I learned in the military, fighting hippies. I know if I swing on anyone, though, they’ll overrun us and it won’t be a nice experience. I radio for assistance; and they send the whole shift. The fight is on now. Lots of yelling and pushing, people are throwing things, they’re fighting with us, they’re fighting with each other. Great fun ! We retreat to our cruisers with our now-multiple prisoners. We get down to the station where they’re all stuffed into one car and sent off to the County Jail.

The afternoon wears on, and we ended up calling for assistance from P.D.s as far away as Jay. We must have had most every cop in the County down here. As our force got bigger we would sortie up into the park and break up groups; take prisoners, and then retreat back to the P.D. We were located in the City Hall basement at that time.

Come nightfall, the mopes pulled up the park benches and used them to make small bonfires in the park and in the street. LFD responded and put out the fires, and we finally had enough manpower to clear the City Park.

Clearing the Park gave us some breathing space and room to maneuver. The crowds were forced back down into Knox Street; from where they’d try and sortie; but since they were merely a mob they never succeeded. All night and into the morning we did tactical sweeps into Knox Street; anyone on the street was arrested after being directed to go indoors and stay there. Eventually, they grew tired of it and we had arrested the worst of them, and things settled down. The Park was trashed and a number of Officers had some minor injuries, but I remember thinking “Gee, ain’t being a cop great !!”.

That was a fun day !!

We Thought it was Funny At the Time, by “Richie”

Every line of work has those things that people involved in that line of work find to be funny. I’m sure reporters have many stories to tell about the foibles of their fellow reporters and the editors over them. There are probably medical personnel funny things, and carpenter humor and so forth. Well, there are things the cops find funny. If you’re sensitive caring and feeling; don’t bother reading any further; but if you have a sense of the perverse, or just like peeping in the window into another world, well then, read on.

Way back in the last century when I joined the Lewiston P.D. we had quite an assortment of characters. Policing was different then; we were at the very tail end of the old style of policing; and just becoming aware of the dawn of a new way to do things. Lewiston, though, just didn’t want to let go of the “small town” idea; you know, Andy of Mayberry, P.D. in the basement of City Hall, local officials can’t be given parking tickets, all the usual stuff one pictures a small town P.D. to be like. We had more than our fair share of characters too. I mean; these were guys with stories ! We had one guy who had attended Catholic Seminary and who would preach to the prisoners in Latin. We had another guy who had been a “shotgun” Officer on Baltimore P.D.; used to responding to nothing but gun calls. He had a very tough time adjusting to the slow pace (then) of Lewiston. We also had our share of pranksters. Leave your cruiser unsecured ? Well, they’d take it an park it a block away; so when you came out it was like . . . ZOMGWTF ! Where’s my freakin’ cruiser ! Its’ been stolen ! What’ll I tell the Captain ? The Chief’ll kill me !

Leave your hat or jacket laying around ? Someone would turn your hat or jacket badge upside down, so the first call you went on, quite naturally someone would notice it; and of course you’d then be made to look and feel very silly. We used to call that “Working the Kennedy Park patrol”. That happened to me, a number of times. I learned to always check myself before heading out.

Or perhaps you might be in the latrine; you know, pondering life and fate and the questions of time and space, you know, real important stuff. Well, you might get a string of firecrackers pitched through the transom to, how shall I say, speed up your movement.

Then there was the guy who always checked the pay phone in the hallway to see if there was money in the coin return. Pranksters got him too by putting a noxious material in there for him to discover. That was really funny !!

We had fun with pigeons too. Back in the early ’80’s I had an old International Scout; a 4wd vehicle not unlike a Jeep or a Ford Bronco. Anyways, this thing was a real beater; rusting, dented, must have had a million miles on it; big ass knobby tires on it. You could hear me coming a mile away. Well, the pranksters used to collect live and / or dead pigeons and leave them in the back of my truck. Every 7 - 10 days I’d have to look and see what’d been left in the back. Motorcycles ? Guys would come out and find the occasional dead pigeon stuffed into the engine space. One guy had a Cadillac convertible he was exceptionally proud of. Came to work, made the mistake of leaving the top down.

The pranksters threw a bunch of bird feed and bread crumbs in the car. Every bird, every gull, every flying sky rat for miles around showed up. When that poor guy got back to his car that night you can only imagine what a mess he found.

Oh yah. Real funny, dude. There’s more; but that’s enough of that for now.

One of the funnier things I ever did see was one morning back about 1978. It was in the spring or early summer; about 05:00 in the morning or so. The sun was up, but there was no traffic on the streets yet. Back then Park Street was a straight run from Main Street; and with no cars on it, you could see the length of it pretty much.

The head prankster on the P.D. got some corn & grain; and put it in the intersection of Pine and Park Streets. He did this for a number of days until a very numerous flock of pigeons came there to feed on a regular basis. Then one Sunday at the usual time he arranged for the different beat Officers to be at the various intersections along Park Street. I was fortunate to be at Pine and Park. We each signaled when there was no traffic present or imminent. Ofcr. Prankster was at Main Street on Park and waiting for our signal. “All Clear !” Bwaaaaaaah ! You could hear that 454 Interceptor engine just light right up ! By the time he got to Park and Pine, he had to be doing 100 mph !

Whoooosh ! Right through that flock of pigeons ! Feathers everywhere !! Woo hoo !

Pigeons flying all over the place; stunned ones flopping around, others just pin wheeling through the air. He wheels the cruiser back up; pigeons in the grille, under the light bar, stuck in the bumper; more feathers. I almost peed myself laughing. He took the cruiser to the car wash and that took care of the evidence. The pigeon population was reduced, and we were entertained.

Now days the LPD is considerably more professional. Ofcr Prankster would be looking at a nice suspension for something like that. In a way, I miss the old days; but even some of the lighter, more innocent foolishness would not pass the Political Correctness review. Sad, in a way; but . . . every now and again I’ll go and turn someone’s jacket badge upside down.

Title 18, United States Code, Section 1951 Interfering with Commerce by Threats of Violence (Hobbs Act)

by Don Goulet

“Whoever in any way or degree obstructs, delays or affects commerce or the movement of any article in commerce by robbery or extortion or attempts or conspires to do so or commits or threatens physical violence to any person or property in furtherance of a plan to violate this section shall be fined under this title or imprisoned not more than 20 years or both.”

A great statute used often by the FBI to investigate illegal operations involving things such as forcible hijacked trucks/trailers involved in interstate commerce. It has and continues to be used to convict and investigate individuals who cross state lines to rob pharmacies, banks, or other institutions involved in interstate commerce. Interesting enough, the term extortion used in the statute is further defined as obtaining the property from another, with his consent, induced by wrongful use of threat or force, or fear under cover of official right. Commerce is defined as all commerce between points within the same state to anyplace outside such state.

In consideration of those definitions, I was able to open a Hobbs Act matter when I was assigned to the Muncie, Indiana FBI office in 1983. I received information indicating that several prostitutes were being extorted by some local police officials (under color of official right) who collected a percentage of the proceeds weekly from the prostitutes’ earnings. The police officers allegedly threatened to break their legs and have their true names used in any police raid made upon them were they not to comply with this scheme.

It was a classic Hobbs Act violation and the commerce clause was easily defined inasmuch as some clients and truck drivers traveled from outside to use the services and also the services of the brothel itself.

Being a classic public corruption matter, this case was stopped dead in its tracks for some strange reason when the local Assistant United States Attorney I was working with ruled that since the prostitutes had not declared their earnings to the Internal Revenue Services (IRS) and did not pay tax accordingly, they lacked credibility as witnesses. If that were a standard of lawful procedure in the United States legal system, you could never use a mobster testifying against another mobster, as most mobsters don’t declare their illegally gotten gains to the IRS.

In another matter, in 1993, I had occasion to operate an eight-month undercover operation with Passamaquoddy Police Chief Fred Moore. Towards the end of the undercover operation, two individuals who had been unknown to us prior to that time approached Moore. They were Louis Jack Tarbell from the St. Regis Indian Reservation located in upstate New York, and Charles “Chuck” Mancuso from Buffalo, New York. During the short course of the operational part of our investigation, Moore and I had occasion to rip off $80,000 worth of tobacco products from these two individuals passing the illegal tobacco that was smuggled into Canada to the Royal Canadian Mounted Police.

Late that afternoon, Mancuso contacted Moore by telephone and wanted to know where his $80,000 was. Moore advised him that he didn’t have any money and didn’t know what Mancuso was talking about. Later on, during a subsequent conversation, Mancuso told Moore on the telephone that he did not know who he was messing around with, that when he, Mancuso, returned to New York they would break his legs and in turn he would be forced to come back to the reservation, look up Moore, and break his legs.

This was a classic Hobbs Act matter type case. The information was provided to the United States Attorney’s Office who promptly dispatched the case when Mancuso and Tarbell decided to plead guilty to lesser charges.

If you own a business that has any type of connection or nexus with interstate commerce, and someone puts you in fear or threatens to harm you to obtain goods or services from you, then the Hobbs Act may very well have been violated.

by “Richie”

Reading Mark’s post about a “Stab at Justice” brought back memories of my very first encounter, as a Police Officer, with serious crime. This was back in 1978; I had just gotten out of the Police Academy. Unlike now days, new Officers then were put out on the street with basically little or no experience. I was 28 when I came here; and had some Life Experience at least, but there were some guys who were still youngsters, so to speak.

They had only just a few uears before started mandating Police Academy training for new Officers, and they would also start working backwards, so to speak, and also get Officers already employed. I believe there was a cut-off point; like, around 10 yrs., and you didn’t have to go. I was here for 13 months before Lewiston sent me; but there was an ulterior motive involved here too. The Police Commission wanted to see if you’d make your one-year probationary period before they paid to send you to the academy. This way they could save money. There were seven of us hired July of ‘77, and of them only three of us continued to retirement; I stayed the longest, and I’m still here.

Fall of 1978 they sent me to Police Academy. Training was mediocre at best, but some of it was good, pertinent, and interesting. The Dr. Henry Ryan dead body slide show was fascinating. The only dead people I had ever seen in my young life were always in a funeral home. Most people have little or no acquaintance with death other than through going to a funeral. Well, that winter in Lewiston was my first contact with violent death.

Fellow is walking along Pine Street with his girlfriend; “shucking an’ jiving” and being just the usual typical loud-mouthed jerk. Just another night in Lewiston, eh ? Well, right in the area of the old movie theatre (since turned into apartments, and then destroyed in a fire) someone has the temerity to actually tell the idiot to quiet down. We’ve seen this scenario before; an idiot encounters another idiot, and before long, just like kids, words are exchanged. No doubt some naughty words were exchanged, with a pinch of name calling thrown in. Add a shot of fisticuffs and you have a recipe for a fun night in Lewiston. Mr. Tough Guy is with his girlfriend, so we know he has to prove himself as being “baad”. This he proceeds to do. He pulls out a pocket knife and proceeds to stab the other guy, once, in the upper chest; dropping him in one shot. Toes up. Dead right there. Munching daisies from the roots up. Nope, won’t be down for breakfast either.

Brave boy ran off but was later captured. Tried and found guilty, sent to prison, and subsequently released after serving about 16yrs or so. I got sent to the scene to assist with scene security and crowd control. Cold winter night, it was amazing how many people just ” had ” to come out, and just ” had ” to walk down the street right by where the corpse was. The guy looked like he’d slipped and fallen, and was merely unconcious. There little visible blood; not much of anything to show what had happened. After the body was removed I remember how we searched the area looking for the knife. The knife itself was one of those small lock-blade type; good for not much more than cutting twine or string or paper; but in this case it was more than enough to kill someone.

I ended up being sent to the hospital to guard the corpse while awaiting for it to be removed to the Medical Examiners office. Medics had attempted to work on the guy before determining it was a fatal wound.

I remember looking at the wound; one very small stab wound right between the nipples. Just the tiniest thing; but he was dead. Stabed in the heart, bled out internally, the nature of the injury being such that even if heart surgeons had been right there they probably couldn’t have saved him. Just one of those freak occurances that ended tragically.

I remember how amazed I was that such a small knife could do such an immense thing; killing a person. I’d seen people injured, some seriously, even before enlisting in the Police; but the social circle I was used to didn’t usually run the risk of death or grievous injury. It was an eye-opening experience for me, a young rookie, and I still to this day think about it. The sad part is that the victim really hadn’t done anything to deserve dieing. His mistake was pretty much “being in the wrong place at the wrong time”.

His life was only worth the 16 or so yrs the bad guy spent in prison. The two things are certainly not equal in value. Keep that in mind as you follow the murder trial going on now over in the County Courthouse.
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“Richie” is a pseudonym for a retired Lewiston Police Officer. Served over 25yrs in a number of roles; his most favourite being Dispatcher (back when LPD ran its’ own radio) and Burglary / Theft Detective. He is still employed by the LPD in a civilian capacity. Originally from Niagara Falls, NY; “Richie” married a girl from Caribou while he was stationed at Loring AFB. After living in Massachusetts for 7 yrs they moved back to Maine when “Richie” joined the Lewiston P.D. “Richie” is still married to that girl from Caribou, has 4 adult kids and 4 grandchildren. He has an extensive library; with concentrations in Medieval History and WW-II (German) Military History. He also has a huge sci-fi collection. Matter of fact, like his dad used to say, if toilet paper had printing on it “Richie” would read it.

Reflections of a mysterious former cop known to us only as Richie.

Burglary; T:17a 401 MSRA, is generally defined as entering a premises with the intent to commit a crime therein. Theft, T:17a 353 (generally, amongst other selections) is defined as unauthorised taking.

A number of years ago I was serving as a Lewiston PD Detective on the Burglary / Theft Squad. Many PDs call this squad by different names; “Safe and Loft” comes to mind . There isn’t much glamour to it, and B&T squaddies usually carry very heavy caseloads. During my tenure, my partner and I carried about 70 cases each, on average. We’d sometimes trade them back and forth if we were working a series and the other case fit that. One thing is for sure, though, you learn patience when working B&T; since burglars never do just one crime; they’ll always go out and do another - because they can . But every now and again a simple burglary can unravel a whole skein of different foolishness; sometimes crimes going back over years.

One particular case involved a burglary in a residence out in the old racetrack trailer park. Someone had busted into the guys house and taken a bunch of stuff including some rifles.

Wasn’t much evidence to go on; and it wasn’t all that big a deal (on the scale of B & T’s) other than we were concerned about the firearms. So, we worked it for a while, but the case went cold; until one night Dave and I are working as Night Shift Detectives. We get a call; and as luck has it, I answer. I’ve got a mope on the other end who says he knows someone who knows where the guns are from my burglary ! OK ! So we chat, and I realise, it’s my caller who knows where the guns are. How do I get him to tell me ? Chat a little mor . . . hmm. “. . .You know where the guns are” I say, ” . . . and I know you know where the guns are . . .”; I continue “. . . and you know I know you know where the guns are ! . . . .” By now Dave is looking over at me like I’m crazy; so I continue “. . . and I know you know I know you know where the guns are ! . . . “. Well, even I’m starting to get confused; and if I go too much further I’ll have to arrest myself. Anyways, I conclude the call, and my caller says he’ll get back to me. He wouldn’t ID himself to me; and I really didn’t think he’d call back; it was just one of those things. Well, by now Dave is laughing hysterically, just about peeing himself at my foolishness. I explained to him what it was all about, but, no, he just keeps laughing. Oh well.

Anyways, about 5 minutes later, the mope calls back; this time speaks to Dave (it was his turn to answer the phone). Well, turns out Dave knows the mope from his days in Patrol. Goes with the moniker of “Idiot J****”. “Hey, Detective, he says, your partners’ been shadowing me !” He whispers it into the phone, like as if I can hear him or something. Well, Dave starts laughing again only now he’s trying to stifle it. He agrees to meet up with us, only because I’ve been “shadowing” him. We go out to Tall Pines and meet up with the mope & put him in our CID car. Sure enough, he takes us to where the guns are and we make a full recovery. We chat him up, and it doesn’t take long for us to figure out he isn’t the “good citizen” others might think. We get him downtown & grill him and he gives it up.

Turns out he’s part of a big ring of teens and adult-teens doing Burglaries, Thefts, Crim. Mischief all over the outer Main Street area ! We tracked down a gun theft from years before when Dave was a Patrol Officer in the Pines area ! One of our stolen guns turned out to have been recovered in Boston after being used in a homicide. The stolen guns led to all sorts of other crimes and a surprisingly large drug involvement; and by the time we were done with this we were charging something like 20 different people with all sorts of assorted crimes. Our youngest criminal was about 12 yrs old (and over the years she’s been a real hardcore criminal too, really !) and the oldest was in her 70’s (she knowingly transported stolen property with the intent to help her grandson trade stolen property for drugs). We ended up interviewing and charging one kid who was also a crazy. He had a stolen shotgun; that he cut the barrel off of. He would practise shooting it into a wood pile in his basement when his mother was at work. His favorite activity was to hop a train and ride up north sitting on a boxcar; shooting the shotgun at things as the train rolled along. He’d get to Bangor or where ever; jump off, and catch a train ride back to Lewiston.

In the end, I wound up getting the only Personnel Complaint (unfounded) I ever got while I was in CID. Didn’t matter. We cleared a lot of cases, charged a truck full of mopes, and made a bunch of people move out of town. All in all, it was a good job well done !

So, while Burglary / Theft Squad might not be glamorous, it sure was different ! I surely do miss those days.

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Biography:

“Richie” is a pseudonym for a retired Lewiston Police Officer. Served over 25yrs in a number of roles; his most favourite being Dispatcher (back when LPD ran its’ own radio) and Burglary / Theft Detective. He is still employed by the LPD in a civilian capacity. Originally from Niagara Falls, NY; “Richie” married a girl from Caribou while he was stationed at Loring AFB. After living in Massachusetts for 7 yrs they moved back to Maine when “Richie” joined the Lewiston P.D. “Richie” is still married to that girl from Caribou, has 4 adult kids and 4 grandchildren. He has an extensive library; with concentrations in Medieval History and WW-II (German) Military History. He also has a huge sci-fi collection. Matter of fact, like his dad used to say, if toilet paper had printing on it “Richie” would read it.

Title 18, United States Code, Section 1343

Fraud by Wire is defined as “Whoever, having devised or intending to devise any scheme or artifice to defraud, or for obtaining money or property by means of false or fraudulent pretenses, representations, or promises, transmits or causes to be transmitted by means of wire, radio, or television communication in interstate or foreign commerce, any writings, signs, signals, pictures, or sounds for the purpose of executing such scheme or artifice, shall be fined under this title or imprisoned not more than 20 years, or both.  If the violation affects a financial institution, such person shall be fined not more than $1,000,000 or imprisoned not more than 30 years, or both.”

Contemporarily speaking, the Fraud by Wire statute also applies to the use of computers and fax machines in interstate or foreign commerce.  The Fraud by Wire statute may be the most highly used statute utilized by the Federal Bureau of Investigations in its investigations.  As an agent, I relied heavily on this statute for the type of investigations I was involved with, such as advanced fee schemes, swindles, smuggling, bank fraud, etc.

The most touching cases I worked in Bangor were the schemes used to commit fraud against the elderly whereby someone would approach them and promise them exorbitant amounts of money available only if they initially sent money to the perpetrators as part of the “deal.”  Many people fell for this type of scam, and they are some of the most difficult to prove inasmuch as the perpetrators generally use several mailbox drops and change their aliases quite frequently.  If you got lucky, a potential victim would notify you of a scheme during the commission of the crime.  You then could assume the role of the victim and set up the perpetrator.  With proper technique, you could locate the perpetrator when he went to his mail drop box to pick up the advanced fee and arrest the sucker.   Most of the advanced fee schemes were offers made to the victim to provide lottery winnings, low interest loans, or a long lost trust that was recently found by the perpetrator.  The idea was to have the elderly and others send money up front to collect these funds.  Once the money was received at the other end, the perps would disappear.  In many instances, they would pass on the names of the victims to other individuals involved in similar type schemes.  Consequently, many victims were victimized over and over again, which was heart wrenching.

If someone calls you or contacts you by email with an offer that sounds too good to be true and they want an advanced fee, than it probably is too good to be true and BEWARE!!

By Don Goulet