Dealing With The Devil?: October 2003 - Part V

Getting back to the original story now, I need to finish off with the end of 2003. There’s not much here, but this final (or so I thought) interaction with Officer Marshall will help to explain why I gave up on asking FWPD for help here for quite a while. In fact, for the next two and a half years, I didn’t call FWPD once to complain about the drug activities here. It wasn’t that I was pleased with what goes on here, it’s just that the police had made it very clear that they were either unable or unwilling to effectively deal with the problem.

The vast majority of Fort Wayne police officers probably have no real say over how their department is run. But the FWPD Command Staff, including Chief of Police Rusty York and the seventeen others whose name and picture appears on FWPD’s website can not deflect responsibility for how their department is run. And I can say that based upon my experiences here, that any member of the FWPD Command Staff who claims that their department wants citizen involvement is a damned liar! I can also say, considering that so many officer have ignored my offer to help with the problem here, that my neighborhood is being sanctioned by the Fort Wayne Police Department to allow illegal drug activity.

Tuesday, October 21 I got up at 7:30 in the morning, and began to stir about the house. As my brain began to wake, I started thinking about the current situation. The night before, I had made a gentlemen’s agreement with one of the dealers that I would back off a bit. And now, in just a little over an hour, a high ranking officer was due to arrive at my house so we could drive together through the neighborhood. Two thoughts crossed my mind. Naturally, I could not help but wander who might witness this and how it would be interpreted by the dealers. But I also began to wonder about the strange coincidence of the matter.

Why had Ted, presumably acting as a spokesman for the dealers, chosen that particular evening to come to my house? Could it have been merely a coincidence that only the day before I had jerked Officer Marshall’s chain hard enough that he knew I was willing to make some real noise about the situation here? Was it a coincidence that just four hours after speaking with Officer Marshall, Ted came to me and asked if I was trying to shut things down? Perhaps Ted was called by his boss that evening, and instructed to send a message to the trouble maker (that would be me!) I have no proof here that Officer Marshal was running the drugs in my neighborhood, but this event caused me to consider that possibility.

Whether the dealers had acted of their own accord, or under direction from the police, I still decided that meeting with Officer Marshall that morning would not be a wise move. Starting at 8:00, I spent almost the next hour trying frantically to contact Officer Marshall. I called his work number and left several messages. I called the desk sergeant who claimed to have tried to contact Marshall both by radio and his cell phone without success. Now there’s a scary thought, a high ranking officer has totally fallen off the grid. More likely, I suppose, is that Officer Marshall was reached, but gave instructions to tell me otherwise. I believe I even called Marshall’s home phone once, but left no message.

It was almost nine now, so I just went outside to await Officer Marshall’s arrival. He arrived promptly at nine, and I really didn’t see how I could cancel our meeting at that point. In stark contrast to our first meeting, there were no other police vehicles in sight that day, and I began to wonder if perhaps Officer Marshall might actually be incommunicado with his department for a reason. As I reluctantly got inside the car, I mentioned that I had called the station trying to reach him that morning. I really didn’t know what to think of Officer Marshall at this point, but I thought it was a good idea to let him know that there was a record of our meeting this morning.

Officer Marshall did not say much, and what little he said was designed to get me to speak. Finally, here I was, setting with a cop who wanted to hear my information, and almost too nervous to talk at all. I could not avoid saying something, but the information I revealed was purposely vague. I spoke with broad generalization, and the only names and houses I mentioned were ones that I already had talked about in previous conversations with Officer Marshall. At that point, I really wanted him to think I was ignorant about what was going on here.

After driving for a few minutes, Officer Marshall parked several blocks south of my house. I wondered if he was going to simply order me out of the car and drive off. Of course, I did not have my gun on me, so crossing the paths of the dealers as I walked back home would have been a very distinct and dangerous possibility. I couldn’t just blurt out to Marshall “Look, I know you’re the one running the drugs here. Don’t kill me and I promise to not tell anyone.” Instead, I simply said “ You know, things have gotten a lot quieter now. I think these guys realize that I just want them to stay off my property. I appreciate all you’re doing, but I think I can live with the current situation now” Of course this was a total lie, but it was my way of acquiescing before the person who very likely might be at the top of the drug chain in this town, without actually accusing him of any wrongdoing.

Wednesday, October 22 (7:30 P.M.) I felt that I should go ahead and attend my neighborhood association meeting that night. Jason had specifically invited me, and I had invited both Vic (from Frost) as well as Officer Webster. After yesterday’s event, I had no plans to stir up any more trouble, just to answer any questions these three might have for me as vaguely as I had spoken With Officer Marshall the previous day.

Neither Vic nor Officer Webster were at the meeting that night. But Jason was, as was the FWPD officer he had promised. Officer Marshall arrived a few minutes after the meeting had already started, carrying a huge stack of papers in his arms. He did not speak during the meeting, but began talking with a few people afterwards. As I grabbed my coat and began to sneak out the door, Officer Marshall called to me. “Mr. Marx, could I have a word with you?”

He walked me to my truck and began to explain that the papers he was carrying were Fort Wayne crime statistics. He occasionally pointed to a few specific lines as he made some comment about them, but it was nothing that I could really understand. The overall gist seemed to be that Officer Marshall was telling me that crime was rampant in F.W. and that my specific area was not deserving of any special attention. He had already made his point with me yesterday, so no further explanation was needed. Officer Marshall did not mention the no-trespass order that he claimed he would have for me to sign, and there was no mention of the incident report that he was supposed to be checking on.

I began this summer with the belief that Officer Marshall was the one who would help me to turn things around here. But everything he did seemed designed to simply tell me to shut up and quit making noise. During the following years I would still encounter officers in this area who had no clue who I was. They would stop me because they thought I was just here looking to buy drugs. They would sometimes accuse me of being a part of the drug problems here, even though I had literally been begging them for help with it. One officer even asked me if I would consider letting FWPD install cameras on my property, seemingly unaware that I had made that offer myself a couple years earlier.

I had always ascribed FWPD’s reaction to the situation here as being due to apathy and/or incompetence. Thinking back though, I’d say that my experiences with Officer Marshall was what first caused me to consider that FWPD might actually be involved in the drug trafficking here. Now I realize that to many people, merely suggesting this idea sounds absurd. But I still struggle to find a better explanation. Reconsider what happened in October of 2003.

Officer Marshall had been regularly ignoring my calls for quite a while. Then, only after I had applied political pressure, Officer Marshall suddenly seemed to take a real interest in me. The fact that it took this prompting to force Officer Marshall into action only proves a lack of professionalism, not necessarily corruption, on his part. Then, the fact that Ted (the drug dealer who asked if I was trying to shut down their operations) came to home only a few hours after I spoke with Officer Marshall does seem like a strange coincidence, but it is possibly just that. I had been acting very aggressively towards some of the dealers here and it is altogether possible that Ted was acting on this, rather than having been sent by Officer Marshall.

But here’s the really strange part. I had lit a fire under Officer Marshall’s ass, then told him I was ready to talk in great detail about what was going on here. Yet when I met with Officer Marshall the next day, I was nearly silent on the matter. This prompted absolutely no reaction from Officer Marshall, and that is what I find to be very strange. My reluctance to speak that morning should have enraged Officer Marshall. I had went far above his head to demand that I be listened to, then I had nothing to say when my opportunity to speak came.

The fact that he had no adverse reaction to my behavior that day seems very strange. I can not think of a better explanation than to suggest that my silence that morning was expected by Officer Marshall. And the best reason I can think of to explain this is that Officer Marshall knew that one of the drug dealers had paid a visit to my home the night before. I think it is very likely that Officer Marshall showed up at my house that morning merely to confirm that I had received his message. That message was that I should ignore the drug activities in this neighborhood.