THE TASK FORCE RAID
I live in Encinitas which is a city in the County of San Diego. We contract with the San Diego Sheriff's Department for our law enforcement services. Please don't mistake my story as being about our Sheriff department's highly trained, professional, SWAT team or the SDSO deputies patrolling our neighborhood (proudly displaying their badges and name tags). My story is about a visit from our county's secret police unit.
One morning, shortly after daybreak, I awoke to rumbling. Stumbled out of bed to try and figure out what was going on. On my way to the door, pants in hand, there was a loud knock. I unlatched the deadbolt and opened it a crack (was in my jockey briefs). A semi rambo/swat dressed looking guy said it was a raid. Raid? He asked if I was on parole. No. Probation? No. Asked who I was. I told him. Also told him I worked at Drug Diversion in North County. (YES, Sheriff Kolender's name was on my letterhead. NO, I wasn't a cop. I like helping people and the job was something to do between carving skull rings :) Anyway, he asked if I'd ever been on parole. No, I told you who I am and where I worked. What do you want?
He asked if he could come in and look around. Do you have a warrant? No. I don't want you in here without one. You woke me up. I'm in my underwear. Could I see a badge or some ID? Oooopps, that question must have pissed them off. They barged in, stuck a machine gun in my face (finger on the trigger!) and YELLED for me to put my hands above my head. I thought it might be a home invasion robbery (no badges or ID's, just those patches anyone can get at a surplus store or online). The one with the machine gun seemed really amped up. Pretty sure I was going to get shot. They roughly YANKED my arms down behind my back instead. Then, played tug of war with them for a while. Felt like the guy yanking my right one was trying to break it off. If he was trying to ruin my shoulder, he should get a medal. As I was in my underwear, obviously no weapon, and wasn't resisting in the slightest stretch of the imagination (even though it sure seemed like they were attempting to get me to do so), I’m baffled as to why cuffing me had to be such a violent experience.
They started nosing around my room. Then, one of them said move it and started pushing me towards the door. I asked if I could put on my pants. (I was basically standing on them. Dropped them when they barged in) He said no, move it, and rammed my arms so far up behind my back I heard crackling in my right shoulder (the one they already messed up). Hurt bad! As I was being escorted/pushed out and upstairs more action movie looking types were going in my room to join their friends. I said, (for sure loud enough for every one of them to hear) didn't you hear me, I don't want anyone in there if you don't have a warrant!?!?!? A not too ramboish one, holding a camera instead of a gun, laughed and said don't worry I'm just taking some pictures, we do this all the time. The guy behind me, said move it and pushed me which rammed my head into an immovable cement overhang. Crunch. Great, now my head/neck's messed up too.
Once upstairs I was seated at a table across from a guy who like the rest of them wouldn't show me a badge or ID. Pretty sure he was the boss (people were asking him questions and he was telling them what to do). At that point I figured they were probably real cops. He interrogated me and once in a while would write stuff down on what looked like the data entry forms we used at work (Great now I'm probably in the secret police's database!). The guy in the black storm trouper suit, with the machine gun, stood menacingly at the other end of the table. Having had very little sleep, and being in extreme pain, I'd sometimes pause to process questions (or didn't hear them through the shock). When this would happen he'd raise his voice and ask if I wanted to do this the "easy way or the hard way." This seemed to be a cue for the storm trouper to raise his weapon a little. Sometimes he'd put his finger back on the trigger.
Bossman was sort of doing the good cop bad cop thing all by himself. He'd interrogate me and threaten the hard way, then lighten up a little and talk about his Indian motorcycle, then interrogate me some more. The storm trouper was pretty staunch throughout although it seemed he almost lightened up for a second when I asked about his weapon. (He said it was an mp40. Looked really proud of it like a kid with a new toy). Then, told me to shut up and answer the boss's questions. I again complained they'd injured my shoulder, the handcuffs weren't making it any better, and the pain was becoming unbearable. Bossman asked if it was a pre-existing injury. Told him no they messed me up bad downstairs. He finally, mercifully, instructed one of his boys to undo the cuffs and re-cuff me with my hands in the front. (I would have preferred a medic or ambulance ride but apparently they weren't the compassionate type or through with the interrogation yet. Wonder what they would have done if I was profusely bleeding?) When they un-cuffed me my right arm was stuck. I pulled it around with my other hand and it sort of snapped back in. (Ouch!) Then was re-cuffed with my hands in the front.
After the interrogation finally ended, as the herd was leaving, I was un-cuffed. I made a final plea to see some ID’s, badges, get some names, something, anything. They thought that was pretty funny. The only one who offered any info was my interrogator who on the way out flipped a business card on the table. It said "J.U.D.G.E Unit". ("Jurisdictions Unified for Drug And Gang Enforcement.") (But uhhh... I don't do drugs and am not in a gang!) . The card also had what turned out to be his nickname on the bottom.
Whatever, they finally left, I was alive, and was glad they didn't take me with them. Thank God I didn't have to find out what the hard way was like! That I know of they didn't plant anything and the only thing they stole (besides my dignity, sense of security/privacy, good health, etc.) was a sticker off my workbench. A home invasion robbery would have been easier to accept on an intellectual level than being treated in such a violent, unprofessional, (criminal?), manner by people under color of authority, who in theory are supposed to be public servants. In retrospect I would have preferred waterboarding. Between being humiliated, doctors, physical (and other) therapist, surgery, lost work, invasion of privacy, task force coming back phobia, ruined shoulder, etc.., the J.U.D.G.E unit's visit is the worst nightmare I've ever suffered.
As I filed an official claim logic would assume there must have been some kind of official investigation before they rejected it. If so, no investigator ever spoke to me about what happened. There weren't even investigative notes turned over in our discovery request, let alone the thorough type of investigative report ethics would suggest would follow a claim as serious as mine. (Actually, any claim). Perhaps the San Diego County Counsel's office summarily rejects claims against its law enforcement. Or, coverup? With the task force being connected to the San Diego District Attorney's office and headed up by a sergeant with the Sheriffs Department, many people in the system have to be aware of what happened to me by now. To date none of them have expressed even the remotest concern that I was permanently injured and had my Constitutional rights completely trampled. (Let alone apologize or offer the slightest assistance with my medical expenses. ). OK, I get it. They don't care. Maybe the Judge and jury will
In my lawyer search I talked to several who seemed interested in helping me until I'd get to the part about it being the task force. It seems their reputation preceded them. None would take my case. Miraculously, after basically giving up hope of justice, a few days before the deadline to file a lawsuit in the US Court, one called me back. He said what happened to me had been bothering him and to come to his office and sign some papers so he could file the lawsuit. He said his goal was to get me compensated for my injuries. He stressed he wasn't a crusader, and for me not to expect any of the cops who mugged me to get in trouble or for there to be any change in the way the task force operates. Whatever. Finally a lawyer!
I've been on the planet quite a while. Have never been involved in a lawsuit. Although wanting to be compensated for my injuries was part of my lawyer hunt, to me, it's more than that. Law enforcement is an essential part of civilized society. That's why WE pay them. They work for US. WE place them in the ultimate position of public trust. WE grant them incredible power and authority with the expectation they won't abuse it and the belief that when they do, someone will be there to hold them accountable.
Higher than the rules, laws, and policies cops are allegedly bound by, (and the immunities they've somehow, against all logic, been granted), I'd like to believe our Constitution still maintains none of us should suffer the kind of treatment I was subjected to by anyone. (Let alone public employees/servants!) As a responsible citizen, who loves my children, freedom, country, and neighborhood, I feel a moral and civic responsibility, however difficult, to attempt to bring those responsible for abusing the most basic of my rights to justice.
If like myself, you are an upstanding citizen, my story should alarm you greatly. As it happened to me, it could obviously happen to you. If these clandestine units remain un-accountable, unchecked, and are left to run anonymously amok, it's all of our faults if this draconian style of law enforcement becomes the norm. If anything close to what happens to me happens to you or yours, I pray you find the fortitude not to turn the other cheek. It won't be easy (In San Diego anyway) but if you look hard enough you'll probably be able to find a lawyer. We are not the third world. It's our responsibility to make sure every level of law enforcement knows that. When we quit standing up for freedom, OUR Constitution, and the American way of life, tyranny is just around the corner.
NOTE TO COUNTY ( Cops, whoever.): I've heard that some of the people your investigators have interviewed since the lawsuit was filed were left with the feeling I was some type of criminal. Hopefully the slander is just some sleazy defense strategy stuff and you've figured out I'm not!!! Just in case, if you’re going to raid me again, could you please get a warrant first. And, I beg you,. send normal cops or the SWAT team instead of those secret police dudes. (I can't afford the first injury. A second would totally ruin me!)
NOTE TO COPS WHO ARE MY FRIENDS/CLIENTS: The sympathy was cool but I think besides being an obvious violation of my Constitutional rights, I consider what happened to me criminal. Don't you? (Assault and battery with great bodily injury, false arrest, home invasion, parading someone in their jockey briefs, etc) Yes, I'm aware the Supreme Court said you don't have a responsibility to protect anyone (notice it doesn't say "to protect and serve" on police cars anymore:) BUT, I'm pretty sure enforcing laws is still somewhere in your job descriptions. That I know of none of you did anything to try to bring the thugs who permanently injured me and raped my privacy/dignity to justice. Whatup with that? Dang, I thought that "Blue Code Of Silence" (or is it "Blue Wall Of Silence") gang mentality thing was just a myth.
NOTE TO PEOPLE WHO USE TO BE ON MY CASELOAD: If any of you somehow end up reading this, I'm sorry I told you one of the best things about quitting drugs/criminal activity is you wouldn't have to worry about the police anymore . Uhhhhh, turns out maybe you should still worry a little. But hey, if you're not doing anything criminal, at least if they raid and mug you, they probably won't take you with them when they leave (Remember, always try to focus on the positive!).
NOTE TO PRESS (if you somehow end up here): My lawyer said he doesn't try cases in the newspaper or on TV, only court. Sorry, I can't talk to you (yet).
NOTE TO CLIENTS ( or prospective ones.): Heard a rumor I only make stuff for Hollywierds now. Actually, if I didn't take your order it's probably because my shoulder's messed up. If I didn't return your message, it's because typing messes it up as bad as carving. I can only work a couple hours a day now. So, some hours I devote to your wants, others I spend carving whatever I feel like. (It's an artist thing.) If it comes out cool, I'll stick it on eBay.
CLICK HERE TO CHECK OUT MY AUCTIONS.
(Buy something. Lawyers are expensive!)
Please don't message me about the incident or lawsuit. I won't respond. Although my quest for justice is draining, I'm in it for the long haul. If you're the praying kind, please keep me in your prayers. It may take a while but check back. I'll finish this story one day. THANKS for visiting my website and the support.