One Department

by Thomas A. Young

  Elena didn’t want to go of course, but it only took some gentle tugging from Veronica, and Randy releasing her to get her to comply. As they parted for the last time, Randy said a simple goodbye. Elena blew him a kiss and said goodbye, my Wero.

  As Veronica walked her to the lobby, she mentioned her previous incident in Randy’s cell. “He told me about that,” Elena replied to her. “At the time he was serious about getting one more, but he liked you enough that he didn’t want it to be you.”

  * * *

  Less than an hour later, Randy was strapped to the gurney in the execution room. The gurney was tilted up and he was facing the glass. On the other side of the glass, the viewing room was mostly filled with cops, and families of cops he had killed. But there was one friendly face among them, Vincent’s. He sat toward the back.

  Burt sat toward the front.

  The guards had come for him almost thirty minutes after Elena had been escorted out. That was time they could have spent together, and that pissed Randy off to no end. But, it wasn’t like he’d be filing a grievance in the morning.

  Earl was at the front of the group of guards who had come to his cell door. He had told Randy stand and come forward, and Randy had responded by standing unsupported and kicking his walker aside. That had exactly the effect he was looking for. Earl’s surprise was unmistakable, as was that of the other guards. Randy had pulled a big one over them, and had he intended them harm, it was far more likely he could have pulled it off than they had suspected. But the way he had revealed his hand indicated that wasn’t the case.

  He took his final walk with no assistance, and shortly thereafter found himself where he was now. Ready to face the music. The needle had been inserted into his arm and taped into place, but not connected to anything yet.

  Earl held up a sheet of paper and read out loud the death decree. Then he turned to Randy. “Mister Gustin,” he asked, “do you have any final acts of war you wish to perform?”

  Randy didn’t see that coming. He stared at Earl, completely perplexed. “You ask me that now?” Earl nodded, and Randy answered him. “I do not. You met my price, and it was high.”

  Earl smiled in return. “Do you have any final words?”

  “My last statement has been recorded for release.”

  “Is there anything you wish to say now?”

  Now he understood. This was a nod to Burt. Randy looked through the glass and saw the man with the black-rim glasses smiling with anticipation. What’s it gonna be, Gustin? the smile said. Fuck you? See you in hell? Come on, the suspense is killing me!

  Randy really hadn’t given it any thought, and improv wasn’t his strong suit. But something came to him from out of the blue. Whether it really fit the moment he couldn’t be sure, but he stared straight at Burt and let him have it.

  “I cannot say enough good things about the Springfield M1A,” Randy said.

  Burt cursed from behind the glass. Randy heard nothing, but was pretty sure he could make out the word motherfucker on his lips. In the back row, Vincent raised his fist and shook it once.

  The gurney was rolled back from the glass and lowered flat. The needle was connected to the machine that held the lethal drugs, and when Earl gave the order, the button was pushed.

  Randy closed his eyes. His final wish was between him and his maker. God, keep Elena safe, and give her happiness, Randy thought to himself. Give peace to those I’ve crossed paths with, living and dead. He inhaled deeply for the last time, and for being prison air, it tasted pretty sweet. And please let me leave this world a better place than it was when I got here.

  Randy went to sleep, and there he stayed.

  Chapter 20

  Last Words

  From the Forest Hill Gazette:

  Editor’s note: Immediately following last night’s execution, we were presented with this last written statement by his newly widowed wife. We understand the contentious nature of this issue, but upon review and consideration we determined that the thoughts and motivations of a person such as Mr. Gustin should be known, in order that it might help to avert repeat episodes. We have therefore elected to run this in its entirety. –Forest Hill Gazette Editorial Board

  The Final Statement of Randolph Gustin

  By Randolph Gustin

  Life is about the choices we make, and I’ve had a lot of time to think about mine. It’s a very hard thing to look back upon what led me to where I am now. I’ve ended lives and inflicted a lot of pain. At times I’ve wondered if this could all be traced back to one bad choice that necessitated others, but I don’t believe it can. What happened is a lot more complicated than that.

  May of 2010 was, of course, where the long-running feud between myself and the Forest Hill Police Department spilled into violence. I faced a choice at that time: fight back, or quite possibly die at the hands of the law. There was a lot that led up to this event however, and there was also a lot of history that led me to make the choice that I did at that time, as well as the choice to continue fighting after the initial incident. What troubles me now is that I may have had a greater hand in what preceded the killings than I’ve admitted to myself.

  My first encounter with law enforcement that I clearly recall happened when I was a boy. My father’s name was George Gustin, and while driving home one day we were stopped by a young deputy whose name was none other than Burt Grandstone. What happened during that stop shaped my perception of lawmen for the rest of my life. To say that Deputy Grandstone was abusive would not do it justice. He humiliated my father, on the side of the highway, in plain view of the public and right in front of his son.

  Things changed after that, for both my father and I. He had brought me up to respect the law, and now that was a tougher case to make. Trust of public officials became an issue, as neither of us had as much of it to spare as we did before. It goes without saying that being rousted in a traffic stop does not justify bloodshed. But it can start the ball rolling in the wrong direction.

  As I grew older, the memory of that day led me to watch police more closely. What happened to my father and I was by no means isolated or uncommon, and the character traits displayed by Deputy Grandstone turned out to be the norm for police officers rather than the exception, at least while on duty. Chief among those traits that I perceived with greater frequency was a willingness to lie. Lie about their reasons for stopping you, fabricate “safety” issues to conduct searches and otherwise violate your rights, lie in court and fabricate evidence, and even lie about and misrepresent the very laws they are supposed to enforce and abide by themselves.

  And as I learned myself, on occasion they will even kill you, then lie about their reasons for doing that.

  Is there anything worse you can do to someone than to lie about them? To destroy their character and reputation for something that isn’t true? To leave the mark of “attempted cop killer” affixed to their gravestone forever?

  Everyone remembers the video of Elio Carrion being shot in the back as he complied with an officer’s orders to get up off the ground. Everyone found it disturbing. But you have to think about exactly what the incident meant to understand how truly horrifying it was. Carrion did his fair share to aggravate the situation, though at no time did he threaten anyone. But Deputy Ivory Webb wanted to shoot him anyways, so he did more than to simply misrepresent something Carrion did. He actually tricked Carrion into making a move that he could misconstrue as threatening. Had it not been caught on tape, he’d have gotten away with it clean, with the full support of his department.

  This incident is only the tip of the iceberg. In recent years, some others who have been maimed or killed senselessly at their hands include Tyisha Miller, Rick Camat, Otto Zehm, Randall Privasky, Miles Murphy, Oscar Grant, Christopher Harris, Michael McCloskey, Daniel Wasilchen, Niles Meservey, Pastor Wayne Scott Creach, Aaron C. Campbell, John T. Williams, and Douglas Ostling, among many others. And of course, there was our own local case of Arnold McCaslin.

  So what doe
s this say about the real state of relations between citizens and police? The answer to that is simple and terrifying: folks; this can happen to you. In February of 2010, a detective from East Palo Alto in California named Rod Tuason advocated to other officers in an online cop forum that they should shoot people who legally carry pistols openly, and they should do it by proning them out on the ground and then firing when the person makes a furtive movement. The lesson to take away from that is that being innocent and being compliant do not insure you’ll survive an encounter with a cop who has it in his head that you’ve got it coming.

  That fact led me to ask myself far in advance what I would do if I believed a cop was about to murder me in this fashion. We are continually told that you must obey the “lawful orders” of the officer, and if you do so then everything will be fine. But does that mean a person being attacked by one has no right to protect themselves? Or to protect another person who is being gunned down by one without justification? Are we really obligated to let them have their way with our lives, and settle it in court later? Clearly, my answer to that question is no. Your right to live supersedes any law.

  But having successfully defended yourself from rogue law enforcement officers, you face certain realities. Chief among them is the fact that the same system that lets murdering cops off the hook will come after you with a vengeance. They will conspire, lie, and do whatever it takes to make sure that you’ll either go to the chair, or if not, that you won’t see the light of day again until you’re too old for there to be any point in it. In any case, your life will be over.

  It was that reality that led me to decide against surrendering, because there seemed to be no point in it. Not surrendering carried enormous ramifications. It meant war. But the question to be asked is this: when armed agents of the government are killing people at will, and the courts and the politicians and their own peers will not hold them into account, what is our recourse? Is war not the appropriate remedy? That’s how I saw it, and that’s how I called it. I limited the scope of my war to one department, the department that had actually attacked me, and I’m glad it worked out that way at least.

  But during the trial, there was a question that Chief Grandstone asked me, one that has given me pause. He brought up my own activism in the area of police reforms, and the sometimes-vitriolic nature of the things I said, and he asked me how I supposed that made them feel. It’s a good question, and it’s given me a lot to consider.

  I’ve only experienced the citizen’s side of this conflict, so that’s the only perspective I can speak to. On that side of things, I can tell you about how police abuses make us feel. They make us feel like we can’t believe them, like we can’t trust them, and like we’re not on the same side. They make us feel that there is no one we can call for help who is actually interested in providing it. There is much they could be doing differently in this regard.

  But I have to admit now that there’s another side to this equation. There are things that citizens, even good citizens who mean well, do to incur the mistrust of lawmen, and to likewise make them feel alienated from the rest of us. I myself am guilty of some of those things.

  Among those things, I was too quick to criticize and attack his department. Being on the same side is a two-way street, and I should have spoken to them first about my issues, as a fellow concerned citizen, rather than lambasting first and asking questions later. In doing so I could have assured them I only want the same things they want, or at least should want, good relations between them and the public that are conducted within the law. In truth, I have serious doubts as to how well this would have worked. The us vs. them mentality has been entrenched since long before I arrived on the scene. I would at least have been able to say, however, that I didn’t exacerbate relations needlessly.

  On the flip side, there are things that lawmen need to do in order to do their part. First, respect the law. Far too many of them feel the law doesn’t really apply to them, or that it’s too big of an impediment to doing their jobs. But a lack of respect for the law by lawmen is precisely what creates the condition known as “diminished respect for the law” amongst the rest of us. After all, if the law doesn’t respect the law, why should anyone else?

  So if the law says you don’t have a right to search someone, then that’s it, you don’t have a right to search. Quasi-legal excuses don’t give you a right, they only incur anger. Also, if you don’t have real cause to detain a person or demand identification, that person has a right to walk away and be left alone. If you feel that you or the law has been disrespected, too bad. They are within their rights, and you are not. If you don’t respect theirs, they have no reason to respect yours.

  One thing that police absolutely must learn respect for is the right of citizens to be armed, in public and on their property. It seems like every time an unjustified shooting comes along, there are questionable claims made that the person held a weapon or something that looked like a weapon, and that automatically made them a threat that warranted their killing. It just isn’t so.

  As one example, open-carrying pistols is a right in this state, and everyone knows it, yet we keep seeing stories of people who are surrounded and drawn down on without cause for doing nothing more than to exercise that right. Every one of the people this happens to faces the fear that one of the involved officers is going to be a bit too eager to tug on their trigger, and if it happens, there will be no more accountability for their death than there has been for anyone else’s. And it’s not as if this outcome hasn’t been on the minds of at least some cops, as demonstrated by Detective Rod Tuason.

  That is only one aspect of this particular problem too. In Seattle, John T. Williams was killed for holding a small folding knife along with the piece of wood he was carving with it. And the only reason he didn’t put it down within the four seconds that Ian Birk gave him was because he wanted to close it first. In Spokane, Pastor Wayne Scott Creach was killed for holding a pistol while investigating a suspiciously parked unmarked car on his own property. Simple, legal possession of a weapon, with no threats involved, was used as the excuses for both of these killings.

  No one expects that cops are going to get it right every single time. We also understand that criminal elements and tendencies exist everywhere, including within police departments. But what is really pushing this issue over the edge is accountability. It is the fact that almost no matter how heinous the crime committed by the cop, the department will fight tooth and nail to make sure they are found justified and face no consequences. And the prosecutors who are supposed to make sure this never happens are only too happy to help.

  The more they shoot people without cause, and the more the system conspires to keep them free of accountability, the more people like myself there will be who begin to think that perhaps what they need is a few casualties of their own.

  So if you wear a uniform and a badge, it’s time to start thinking about whose side you’re on. We understand camaraderie, and the need to work as a team. We understand your need to feel that your partner has your back, and isn’t the one you need to fear is looking over your shoulder. But when your partner breaks the law to the detriment of a citizen, that’s where all obligations of loyalty end. Your credibility and your integrity are determined by who you take sides with at that point. When you are confronted with this choice, you have to choose to do the right thing.

  Protecting the safety and rights of the citizen is the reason your job exists, so that’s where your first and foremost loyalty needs to lie. Many of you are in fact decent people, but when the bullies among you cross the line, you nearly always line up on their side rather than the side of the citizen who was violated. This is what makes it appear you’re all against us, and that in turn is what makes people believe there is no one they can call for help who really wants to provide it. Truth matters, so be willing to tell it. The bullies among you are not worth sticking up for, and taking their side when they hurt people will only serve to help create my success
ors.

  When people call you for help, at least have the courtesy to act like you’re interested in helping them. When you’re busting someone’s chops, don’t just cite the laws they’re breaking and the authority they’re disrespecting, make them see the people they’re hurting. This is how you tell people that you’re on their side. You may not always be the hero, but you should never be the villain.

  With regard to the true purpose of my actions, a great deal of speculation has been made, and I’d like to clarify why I elected to go to war. As I described earlier, surrender was not a viable option for me, but there was more to it than that too. Crime is not an acceptable thing, and it was my view that this department had crossed the line with their behavior into becoming a criminal organization. There is only one way to really send the message that such crimes are unacceptable, and that is to fight them. Sometimes in courts of law, sometimes in the court of public opinion, and sometimes in acts of self-defense, or even war. This is how you put such individuals and organizations on notice that what they do is unacceptable, in a way they can’t so easily hide from.

  I’ve seen news stories since then that indicate my actions may have had this effect. There have been stories of killings that have been averted, both of citizens and police officers, that likely even outnumber the number of lives that were taken here. It would be a great comfort to me if I could believe that on balance I had saved lives, but at the same time, I won’t hide behind numbers to justify what I’ve done. Is it about balance? Or is it about doing the right thing in each instance, by every other person? Does the greater good really justify sacrificing people who haven’t volunteered to be sacrificed?

  I myself don’t believe that it does, and therein lies my biggest problem with what I did. I lumped the entire department into the same category, and they didn’t all deserve to be there. Some of them had tried to talk me into surrendering rather than shooting first, but I killed them anyways. It’s true they all wore the same uniform, and all were engaged in tracking me down. But they didn’t all support the actions of the ones who first attacked me, and they didn’t all intend to kill me on sight.