Sunday, August 31, 2014

The Mind of a Poacher

A few years ago, Master Officer Toby Jenkins and I interviewed a young man that Toby had recently charged with several hunting violations.  He took a liking to Toby and offered to give us some insight into the mind of a poacher.  He talked almost nonstop for nearly two hours, telling us story after story.  Ironically, Fred Weisbecker and I had issued this man his first wildlife citation when he was only 16 years old.  The words are his own.

*****

www.sawtoothplantation.com
Every time I pull the trigger, I expect a game warden to step out or see bluelights or hear sirens.  Every time.
  I remember one time sitting against a tree and the woods were quiet.  I mean, not a single sound – the deer season was closed.  And I heard, SNAP, you know like a stick breaking.  Well I was up and running like hell, I didn’t even look back.  I passed my buddy and he’s up and running, he didn’t ask why.  Must of run a quarter mile before we stopped – out of breath.  It might of been a squirrel, it might have been the warden; I don’t know.  We laughed our ass off afterwards. 

The thing I don’t understand is why we ain’t been caught more often.  I mean, we are careful most of the time, but every once in a while, we do something so stupid that afterwards I’m like, “Damn that was dumb.”  The wardens, they try to think like us, like me.  But that’s all wrong.  I don’t think like a poacher; I think like a deer.  And a big buck can be had, but most often he slips away.
 
How many deer have I killed?  I don’t know exactly – a shit load.  One year, in one week, I killed eight or nine nice bucks.  I not talking about scrubs; I mean nice bucks.  That year I figure I killed 25 to 30 racked bucks.  There were some scrubs and does too, but I don’t really count them.  I was working a four-day a week job that fall and I had time to work on them.  I would get with my buddies and they would say something like, “There’s supposed to be a big buck using over in such and such field.”  I would smile and say, “There WAS a nice buck using over there.”  I hammered them that year.

Most, well maybe not most, but a lot of the deer I have killed were during the daytime.  Not that I’m opposed to shooting one at night.  But, I have never used a spotlight.  A man that uses a spotlight is begging to be caught.  A million-candle power – hell, you can see something like that for miles.  That light fans out but it narrows back to where it comes from and points directly at the man holding it.  That is pure stupidity.  We can hit most fields with the truck headlights. 

Unless they have been shot at, deer, even big bucks, will just stand there if it’s headlights.  See, they’re used to cars moving up and down the road.  Remember, you’ve got to think like a deer.  Even if they have been shot into, they will usually hold if you hit them with just the edge of the lights.  But swing the lights around full on them and BAM - they are in the bushes.

It’s during the rut that deer get stupid – that’s when I get stupid.  I have seen bucks that couldn’t be run off.  I was heading over to a buddy’s house one fall.  I popped over the hill and saw six or seven deer in the back of a field.  So I went a ways up the road, hid my truck, and slipped back along the edge of the road to the field.  About half way across the field, maybe 250 yards, was a power pole with a clump of brush around it.  I put that between me and the deer and worked closer. 

I got to the pole and scoped the deer.  There were two bucks fighting.  One was a nice eight-point.  The other was a scrub.  It is a long shot, 250 maybe 300 yards.  I braced against the pole and BOOM, the eight point folded up.  The scrub just stood there.  He walked around the big buck and was like, “I kicked your ass old man; get up and I’ll give you some more.”  Kind of pissed me off, so I rolled his ass too.

A buck can be patterned.  It’s just like the magazines say.  If I see a buck, or somebody tells me they’ve seen a buck using in a field at such and such time, I’ll be there the next day.  If I don’t see it, I will start adjusting, trying to figure out when it’s using.

My buddy heard about this big ass buck using this certain field.  He went down there two evenings in a row - no deer.  The next day he was there from 12 noon till dark.  No deer.  Next day he shifted, daylight to noon.  Still no deer.  So he decided it was moving at night.  He watched that field from sunset to midnight.  Still no deer.  Now it’s getting personal, you know what I mean?  So there’s only one more section of the day to watch. 

It was a full moon night.  He hid his truck and eased out to the edge to the field.  He’s got this big scope that gathers a load of light.  It wasn’t thirty minutes, 12:25, when that buck bounced down the bank into the field.  BOOM, he rolled his ass.  Took him nearly a week, but he got it.

See, that’s how it is.  If we get on a deer, one of us is gonna kill it.  There’s about four of us that hunt together; not all at one time but mixed and matched.  There’s a little competition, you know how it is, so if one of us gets on a deer, sometimes the rest might pile on just to piss the other off.  Kind of like kids.

We’ve been accused of killing deer and leaving them.  I usually try to get them out.  Daytime - nighttime, it doesn’t matter; it’s basically the same.  If I pop one with a big gun and it’s like BOOM, you might as well go hunt for it.  If it’s hit hard it will drop right there.  And with all that noise rattling their windows, everybody in the community is awake.  Somebody is on the phone calling the game wardens or deputies.  Might as well drag it out and get the hell out of there.

If I use something small, so there’s not as much noise, like a .22 magnum, I will usually come back later.  With the smaller calibers, deer tend to run a ways and you have to hunt for them.  I would rather let it cool down, you know see if anybody shows up, before I start traipsing around beside somebody’s house at 3:00 in the morning.    

But if it gets hot, like if I think somebody has called on us or saw us, I ain’t coming back.  Leave it laying and forget it.  Now if it has a big rack, I might show up a couple days later and try to saw the horns off, but the hell with the rest of it.  That’s how I got caught this last time.

Sometimes, if I get a new gun or work up a new load, I might pop one just to see how good the load is.  Or if it’s a ways off, I might shoot just to see if I can hit it.  One time we were riding around and I saw this doe in the back of a cutover.  I had just bought a .338 – a hell of a gun.  I told my buddy to stop, that I wanted to see what my new gun would do.  I laid it out the window and BOOM.  I was watching through the scope.  That deer’s ribcage caved in and blood flew out the backside.  It had been raining and water sprayed in the air.  And then there was just steam where it had been standing.  It was awesome.

The only other time I will leave one is if I need to send a message.  I was with my buddy one day and this little doe runs across the road in front of us.  He said, “I asked that son-of-a-bitch that owns that place to hunt.  Said he didn’t let outlaws hunt.  Roll that one and let him know we were here.”  So I lay it out the window - BOOM.  A calling card. 

Another of the guys had been hunting this big buck.  Everybody had seen it.  It fed under this apple tree almost every afternoon.  We could never get a shot at it because there were so many people up and down the road looking at this deer.  Anyhow, my buddy rolls through there late one night and there it was under that very same tree.  He dropped right there.  It was big bodied and he couldn’t drag it to the road by himself.  So, he caped it out and left the rest under the tree.  The next evening, folks were through there to see the deer and there laid the body - no head.  Everybody knew it was one of us. 

It’s kind of hard to explain why we kill so many.  I guess everybody has their reason.  But, me?  Well, it’s kind of like sex.  You know how the first time you get some and you thinking, “Damn this is some good stuff.”  And your very next thought is, “When can I get it again.”  It’s the same thing.  Once ain’t enough, twice ain’t enough.  There’s no such thing as enough.

Tuesday, August 26, 2014

Protecting the Tribe

www.article.wn.com
I suppose there are few people in the U.S. that haven’t followed the recent events in Ferguson, Missouri.  There have been numerous articles and blog posts that address the supposed militarization of law enforcement.  There have been many law enforcement officers (most retired and free to speak their minds) who have addressed the rush to judgment that the initial officer, and those in the later response to riotous actions, have overreacted.  Crowds ransacked local businesses and community leaders are unable to stop the destruction.  And of course the media on both the left and right are appalled.  Everywhere, it seems someone from one side or the other is pointing fingers and crying foul.

This is a tragic situation for everyone involved in this incident.  A young man is dead and his parents have lost a son.  The officer involved in the shooting will never experience life as he did before August 9, 2014.  I don’t want to appear callous toward either of those two realities, but I would like to briefly discuss another interesting dynamic that has arisen during the past two weeks.

I am currently reading Leaders Eat Last: Why Some Teams Pull Together and Others Don't by Simon Sinek.  Sinek explores how humans have adapted to become highly social creatures.  Our early ancestors had to rely on each other for survival.  Those who were shunned or excluded from their group often faced a quick and lonely death.  However, those who their family members or tribe mates could count on for support and cooperation flourished.  Sinek points out that our bodies produce serotonin and oxytocin, both of which help us form the bonds of trust and friendship. Physical touch - handshakes, fist bumps, holding hands, hugs, back slaps, shoulders touching - help produce these chemicalsLike the musk oxen in the photo, when we close ranks with our tribe, these chemicals contribute to us feeling safe and secure.   We feel connected, and we like that feeling.  Sinek refers to this phenomenon as the Circle of Safety.


We have seen the tribes circle in Ferguson – butts back – horns out.  A Facebook page showing support for Officer Wilson has over 70,000 likes.  Law enforcement officers everywhere know that in a fraction of second, they could be faced with a deadly force situation.  They all know it could be them being scrutinized by the press and having their actions second-guessed frame by frame.  I have found myself explaining the officer's action (in reality, defending those actions) and I know no details of the event other than those reported on television.  Although he is 700 miles away, he is a part of my tribe.

The African American community has aligned with Michael Brown’s family.  Many young, African American men have said they identify with Michael Brown, saying it could be one of them next time.  Brown’s funeral was attended by Al Sharpton, Jesse Jackson, Spike Lee, Tom Joyner, and Trayvon Martin’s father – butts back – horns out.

www.washingtonpost.com
The governmental tribes have closed ranks.  Missouri Governor Jay Nixon thought local government couldn’t handle the situation and brought in the State Police.  The federal government sent U.S. Attorney Eric Holder to Ferguson.  Grandstanding aside, each entity is certain they have the solution to the problems in Ferguson.

Missouri State Police Capt. Ron Johnson
www.cbsnews.com
Even the press circled the wagons when their reporting techniques were questioned.

This brought to mind a conversation I had while I was working in Raleigh.  We were discussing a prominent elected official who comes across as a bully and a generally unlikable guy.  I expressed that opinion to my friend who responded, “His own party doesn’t like him.  But if you ask them they will tell you, ‘he is a son-of-a-bitch, but he is our son-of-a-bitch.’”  As Survivor host Jeff Probst would say, "The tribe has spoken."

Whether you feel comfortable referring to this as “evolutionary” or more comfortable with “adaptive,” whenever the stress levels rise, our first response is fall back into the Circle of Safety.  Failure to do so results in exclusion from the tribe.  And exclusion or banishment leads to a literal or figurative death.  



Monday, August 18, 2014

Warden Tales: C.L. Garland - Graham County Wildlife Protector

Graham County in southwestern North Carolina is in many ways the perfect game warden county.  From a weather standpoint there are four distinct seasons.  It is an environment where it is best to have a coat stashed in the truck well into June.  Then there are often days that are springlike in mid-January.  The hunting and fishing opportunities are equally diverse and an officer can hardly bore of one season before the shift is made to the next.  This was my first duty station.

Wildcats insignia
Charles Lester Garland was Graham County’s first North Carolina Wildlife Resources Commission game protector.  Born in May 12, 1893, Garland served during World War I with Company B, 324 Infantry of the 81st Division.  This was known as the Wildcat Division and made up of draftees from North Carolina, South Carolina and Tennessee.  Garland entered the military on May 24, 1918.  The division was deployed  in two waves to France as the war wound down in late summer/early fall of 1918.  The 81st attacked German positions on the Woevre Plain on November 9, 1918 advancing five and a half kilometers against resistance.  They remained in position until the armistice was signed two days later.  There can be few things that are scary than fighting the last battle of a war.  Garland was discharged from the Army on June 23, 1919.  I recall a school teacher from Robbinsville telling me that the best thing that happened to Graham County was World War I.  He claimed it pulled men from the county and gave them a taste of a bigger world.

Garland began his wildlife career as the county game warden under the Department of Conservation and Development in 1937.  Prior to that he served for three and half years as a Graham County sheriff's deputy.  When the Commission was formed in 1947, he became a wildlife protector – same job - different title and agency.  He attended the third wave of protector training in 1950 at the age of 57.  There’s little doubt that his age contributed to his nickname of “Uncle Charlie.”

C.L Garland - First row - 4th from right
Uncle Charlie’s public service record is typical of most wildlife officers.  Many followed a similar path of military service prior to becoming an officers.  Others worked in emergency services – fire, rescue or local law enforcement.  All have a desire to conserve our wildlife resources and serve the public.  And like many wildlife officers, he was a self-taught naturalist and conservationist who knew much about the woods and waterways.

Officers like C.L. Garland are the foundation of the current NCWRC Division of Law Enforcement.  I count myself as a link in the Graham County chain that spans from Garland all the way to current Wildlife Enforcement Officer Austin Hernandez.  It is a chain that has produced a couple of captains, a chief pilot and a colonel.  Not bad for one tiny mountain county.

C.L Garland - Protector of the Month - December 1955 - age 62
I’m glad we lost the short neckties, but the pith helmets with the agency emblem are very cool.

Friday, August 15, 2014

Everything is Connected: A Look at Immigration

A month or so back, as I watched news coverage of the child immigration crisis, I heard a reference to a book by Sonia Nazario, Enrique's Journey.  The book is based on a Los Angeles Times newspaper series that won two Pulitzer Prizes.  It is the story of a poverty stricken Honduran mother who leaves her two small children to immigrate illegally to the United States.  After ten years of empty promises that she would return to Honduras, her now teenage son, Enrique, sets out for the United States.  He was captured by Mexican immigration officials and returned to Mexican/Guatemalan border seven or eight times, only to start the trip over.  Along the way he was robbed and beaten repeatedly by bandits, gang members and corrupt police officers.  His mother in North Carolina finally hired a smuggler, who through a series of bribes and payoffs, delivered Enrique to her home.

This was a difficult and disturbing book to read so I spread it out over several weeks – I could only take it in small doses.

 Me going to the river for water - 2002
The book brought up memories of a trip I made to Honduras with a church group in 2002.  The people there were very friendly, but extremely poor.  Couple the poverty with an overwhelming amount of violence and it was easy to see why someone would want to escape to the U.S.  Many news sources now refer to these immigrants as refugees because of the conditions in their home country.

Homicide rates
The cackle about immigration wears me out.  I’m not sure that anyone in our government truly wants to tackle the reform issue.  The agriculture, construction, landscaping, domestic services, etc. industries have come to rely the low cost labor of illegals.  While I lived in Raleigh I heard a speaker at a Farm Bureau (my insurance company) meeting give the percentage of farm laborers who were undocumented.  The number shocked me (over 50%).

US backed  Contras in training - 1989
www.theguardian.com
Another possibility for the reluctance to tackle the issue is the concern of where the problem truly originates.  Can any of the current lawlessness and violence in Central America be traced back to the U.S. government backing the Contras in Nicaragua and other rightwing groups throughout the region in the 1980s even when we knew they were raising funds through drug smuggling?  Do we fuel the rise in gang activities by deporting Mara Salvatrucha and other gang members from the U.S. to El Salvador and other Central American countries?  Did the North American Free Trade Agreement negatively impact rural Mexicans and lead to the rise of the leftist Zapatistas?  Does the United States fear that we may have to payup on the china shop rule – if you break it you bought it?  Regardless of who dropped the coffee cup, it is definitely broken.

On the other hand, our brothers and sisters with the Texas Parks and Wildlife, are dealing with true life and death struggles with smugglers, and ranchers all along the border are faced with a multitude of problems associated with illegal immigrants.  Here in North Carolina, illegals compete for low paying jobs that many under-educated citizens would normally fill.  There is no denying that there is a serious problem.

Texas Game wardens on the border - Note the 50 caliber rifle
As is usually the case, our politicians chose to takes actions that garner votes.  They steer away from confronting the core issues – poverty, the breakdown of the family unit, low paying jobs, criminal activity and associated extreme violence - in Central American countries.  Texas governor and potential presidential candidate, Rick Perry recently vowed to send National Guard troops to the border area at a cost of $12 million per month.  He terms it a “stop gap measure.”

It spite of news coverage that would lead us to think differently, the U.S. Border Patrol reports that apprehension of illegals crossing the border have dropped by more than half over the past decade.  Those figures likely reflect depressed economic conditions in the United States and an increased border presence by the Border Patrol.

The cynic in me has to ask whether we truly want to address the problem of illegal immigrants.  Some estimate that low pay for illegals reduce the cost of goods in the United States by 5%.  Do we want the price of food, the cost of construction, and the pay for nannies to increase?  Do those who employ illegals and pay them “under the table” want to pay the taxes and other employment fees, and overtime pay?  It isn't a stretch to assume the answer to those questions is "no."

And is it beneficial for us living in the United States to have poverty in Central America?  Garment workers in Central America make approximately $200 per month manufacturing low cost clothing for us.  If those workers have an increase in salary, we pay for it here.

Everything is connected.


Saturday, August 9, 2014

Is There Anything New Under the Sun?

“What has been is what will be, and what has been done is what will be done, and there is nothing new under the sun.”  Ecclesiastes 1:9 (ESV)

Wildlife officers are some of the most innovative people I have ever known.  I used to joke (well, there was more truth to it than I wanted to admit) that their combination of innovation and intelligence kept me awake at night.  Or as a former executive director told retired officer Fred Weisbecker, “Weisbecker, I have nightmares wondering what you will cook up next.”

G.A. Jones Jr.
Chief, 1948-1953
W.C Bumgarner
Chief, 1953-1955
As I have been looking through some old Wildlife in North Carolina magazines, I have been struck by three truths. First, this innovation/intelligence combination has been present in our officers from the very beginning.  The NC Wildlife Resources Commission was formed in 1947.  Many of those first “wildlife protectors,” a term still used in statute, had worked in their counties for years.  They included World War I and II veterans.  They practiced community policing before the term was coined.  Although many only had a basic education, over the course of their careers they became layman biologists with a keen understanding of the natural world.  Two of the early chiefs, G.A. Jones, Jr. and W.C. Bumgarner were attorneys (Bumgarner was also a combat pilot in WW II).  The officers were (and are) a smart crew.

WINC 1949
Second, wildlife officers have adjusted their tactics as violations, and violators, have evolved.  But, the fact is that as King Solomon put it, “There is nothing new under the sun.”  Many of our current "innovations" have come and gone – sometimes multiple times.  K-9 units were utilized off and on from the beginning.  Using an aircraft to cover more ground makes as much sense now as it did in the 1940s. 

K-9s Nip and Tuck 1949 
Finally, the officers’ service orientation has always be strong.  We have sometimes grumbled about giving programs and working events such as the state fair.  I’ve been guilty of saying, “We don’t have time to do law enforcement work anymore."  But those early officers were working fishing events, staffing the booth at the state fair and even doing an “Operation Wheelchair” for “thirty war-weary and wounded GIs” - an early iteration of the popular, current Wounded Warriors program.

WINC 1952
State Fair 1951
So, has anything changed?  Technology continues to advance and the pace of that advance is quickening.  Radios continue to get smaller.  Our cameras have moved from black and white film, to color, to digital and now even our phones take photos.  The overall communication process is virtually immediate (along with an expectation of an immediate response) with email, text messaging and cellphones.  To make an on duty phone call, we used to have to ride all over the county to use a payphone and I’m not sure those even exist anymore. 

Just a few years ago one of our officers was grumbling about the recent addition of computers to the patrol vehicles.  He fell back on the, “I just want to be a game warden” line.  Then someone showed him Google Earth.  He only had to roll it around in his mind for a moment before being struck by the realization that he could use that computer to make him more efficient (and help him catch somebody). 

His epiphany occurred at that point where technology, service, innovation and intelligence intersected.  Wildlife officers operate at their best where these points converge. While the advancing technology, and the innovation and intelligence of officers has caused some supervisors to lose sleep since 1947, the officers' service orientation lets the supervisors roll over and doze back off.