A call to action
EVERGREEN — As a former soldier possessing potentially important information, he did what he was trained to do and bumped it up the chain of command to JCSO. He’d recently received, he told deputies, a rather sinister and arguably inflammatory e-mail on his personal account. Using strident language, bold type and lots of caps, the message’s author sternly reminded the complainant of his patriotic duty to help the United States perform the sacred task of “executing its domestic enemies that are wreaking havoc on the whole world, as you SWORE to do.” Helpfully included was a neat list supplying the names and addresses of many of the aforementioned domestic enemies and their current elected and/or appointed positions within the halls of Congress and/or elsewhere. Having no idea who could be behind the unsolicited solicitation, but believing it barely possible somebody might actually be moved to act on it, the complainant thought it best to alert agents of government. Deputies documented the menacing memorandum and closed the case.
A dirty business
EVERGREEN — The way Rory told the story, the afternoon of Feb. 15 found him responsibly disposing of unwanted items at the Highway 73 waste collection facility. About 12:30, completely without provocation and with clear malice aforethought, a fellow dumper named Dale “threw mud on my car.” When Rory politely objected, Dale “charged” at Rory, cast him into the great quantity of as-yet-un-flung mud on the ground, and began beating him with his fists. Any damage he may have caused to Dale’s person or appearance, Rory assured deputies, was purely defensive in nature. Not surprisingly, Dale told a different tale, saying that he’d innocently picked up a muddy piece of cardboard with the sole intent of depositing it into the facility’s trash condenser, and was mortified when a contrary gust of wind caught the grubby sheet, flinging mud onto at least three vehicles parked nearby. Perhaps misapprehending what had occurred, Rory had asked, “What the (filth)?” and started slugging Dale about the face and head. Since both men were pretty well marked up, and since they both were doing a fair job of slinging after-the-fact, officers cited both for disorderly conduct.
CONIFER — It was weird, if nothing else. Specifically, it was an 18-inch green and black owl, which wasn’t necessarily weird all by itself. What was weird is that the big-eyed bird was spray-painted on a venting unit high atop the Conifer Road building’s roof. Even weirder, the venting unit was completely enclosed by high walls, making it literally invisible from anywhere on the ground, and virtually unreachable from anywhere at all. Also weird was the cryptic message upon which the silent predator perched, and weirder still was the fact that the message was carefully applied in block letters and yet remained perfectly indecipherable. The building manager didn’t know how long the bird of prey had occupied its lofty roost, but thought it wise to report its nesting site lest its presence portend gang trouble. Deputies documented the nocturnal nuisance and closed the case.
A lance encounter
SOUTH TURKEY CREEK — A few minutes before, the shaken woman told deputies on the evening of Feb. 16, a neighbor had called to warn her of paramilitary peril. According to her second-hand report, the neighbor had observed four young males clad in camouflage clothing and wielding “long spears” creeping around on the complainant’s property in the company of two rough-and-ready Rottweilers. When the neighbor hurled a verbal challenge from his porch, the entire raiding party turned tail and beat a hasty retreat toward McKinney Ranch. Although the property is purely private, there are no signs alerting casual commandos to that fact, and the complainant wanted the incident documented in case the skittish sortee was composed of unauthorized hunters who might keep coming back until they’ve speared their limit. Deputies noted the feckless foray and closed the case.