20090716
20090715
20090713
Eat, Drink, Be Merry, For Tomorrow We Dye!
Guess what? Long, hot pink tresses attracts attention. Especially in the ‘hood where JADE is located. Since choosing the shade, I have yet to make it past a Black girl without hearing I luuuuuhhvv yo’ hair color. It’s pretty obvious I’m conspicuous enough that even the Task Force Officers would notice me. I’ve not been around them -- content to stick with updating I HeArTE JADE -- but after the newly-smug-filled Special Agent Trent informed me he’d be getting an arrest warrant for me I’m figuring what the hell; in for a penny, in for a pound.
I’ve tried calling Mr. Trent to make other, agreeable, arrangements, for everyone involved, but he doesn’t answer his desk phone. Got a sweetie to give up Trent’s pager number and his cell number. Nada contact with the Special Agent. WTF? No, I mean, seriously WTF? As in SERIOUSLY WTF? Vindictiveness is so unbecoming on Law Enforcement.
What is becoming, however, is Mr. Trent’s fellow VA State Policeman Rasmussen. The man is like Fierce with a capital YUM! He even looks tough pumpin’ gas.
I fully believe they grow these BCI guys at the top of a beanstalk.
Oh, and -- on the subject of sex appeal -- just when I think Dasani can’t possibly radiate any more Testosterone, I see him roar by on his motorcycle. In jeans. And boots. With sunglasses.
Ooo La La.
Blonde. Blonde would be a good hue for me, yes?
I’ve tried calling Mr. Trent to make other, agreeable, arrangements, for everyone involved, but he doesn’t answer his desk phone. Got a sweetie to give up Trent’s pager number and his cell number. Nada contact with the Special Agent. WTF? No, I mean, seriously WTF? As in SERIOUSLY WTF? Vindictiveness is so unbecoming on Law Enforcement.
What is becoming, however, is Mr. Trent’s fellow VA State Policeman Rasmussen. The man is like Fierce with a capital YUM! He even looks tough pumpin’ gas.
I fully believe they grow these BCI guys at the top of a beanstalk.
Oh, and -- on the subject of sex appeal -- just when I think Dasani can’t possibly radiate any more Testosterone, I see him roar by on his motorcycle. In jeans. And boots. With sunglasses.
Ooo La La.
Blonde. Blonde would be a good hue for me, yes?
20090711
Dude, Where’s My Car?
July 2009
After a short low-speed car chase and foot pursuit in the Belmont area, two local residents were arrested by the Jefferson Area Drug Enforcement task force as part of an undercover sting.More.
Authorities arrested Jeffery M. Terry and Marchella J. Alexander at about 9 p.m. Thursday, according to a news release.
Lt. Don Campbell of JADE said about seven undercover officers were performing surveillance when they tried to pull over a car. The driver, however, did not pull over and continued into a dead-end street where the passenger got out and fled on foot, Campbell said.
“When [the car] stopped the passenger hopped out with a gun and cocaine and ran,” Campbell said.
After a short pursuit, Terry was arrested and detectives seized approximately 45 grams of crack and a loaded 9 mm pistol, according to the release.
Terry, of Charlottesville, was charged with distribution of cocaine, possession of a firearm by a felon, possession of a firearm while possessing cocaine and possession of cocaine with intent to distribute.
Alexander, of Albemarle, was charged with distribution of cocaine.
Both were being held without bond and further charges were pending.
20090710
It’s Going To Give “Sex, Drugs, And Rock & Roll” A Whole New Meaning
Special Agent Jason Trent asserts, because of this entry about Dasani, I am in violation of this Virginia Code:
I deny my intent was to harass Dasani. I’m not trying to harass any of the officers. I HeArTE JADE is, and has been, a means to exhibit some of the things I’ve experienced because of my curiosity about, and interest in, the JADE Task Force.
I suppose though, when it comes to my actual motives and what I say vs what a group of Law Enforcement claim my motives are and what they feel, the latter people are all that matter.
With that in mind, I expect what will come out in court, in my defense, will still be scandalous for Jefferson Area Drug Enforcement.
§ 18.2-186.4. Use of a person’s identity with the intent to coerce, intimidate, or harass; penalty.The above is intriguing in that it seems to support what I’ve repeatedly stated: publishing pictures and other identifying information of Law Enforcement is not a crime. What is illegal -- and I knew this already -- is harassment, which is the angle the aforesaid code plays. Really what it boils down to is motivation.
It shall be unlawful for any person, with the intent to coerce, intimidate, or harass another person, to publish the person’s name or photograph along with identifying information as defined in clauses (iii) through (ix), or clause (xii) of subsection C of § 18.2-186.3, including identification of the person’s primary residence address. Any person who violates this section is guilty of a Class 1 misdemeanor.
Any person who violates this section knowing or having reason to know that person is a law-enforcement officer, as defined in § 9.1-101, is guilty of a Class 6 felony. The sentence shall include a mandatory minimum term of confinement of six months.
I deny my intent was to harass Dasani. I’m not trying to harass any of the officers. I HeArTE JADE is, and has been, a means to exhibit some of the things I’ve experienced because of my curiosity about, and interest in, the JADE Task Force.
I suppose though, when it comes to my actual motives and what I say vs what a group of Law Enforcement claim my motives are and what they feel, the latter people are all that matter.
With that in mind, I expect what will come out in court, in my defense, will still be scandalous for Jefferson Area Drug Enforcement.
20090707
You Know He’s Ticked When He Doesn’t Call You Ma’am
For weeks I’ve been mildly musing about a letter Special Agent Jason Trent gave me that’s purportedly from the JADE Task Force Command Group. Actually, it isn’t the letter itself that’s on my mind but rather the people who comprise the group -- people who enigmatically didn’t sign or otherwise provide their names on said letter. I’ve found it incessantly puzzling why the missive merely closes like this:
I knew beforehand that Chief John F. Miller is with Albemarle County and Timothy J. Longo is the Police Chief of Charlottesville, and I recently learned the Chief of Police for the University of Virginia is Michael A. Gibson.
The only person I wasn’t sure about was the VSP BCI Captain. I gave that a quick look-up. Sheesh. There are seven possibilities.
I reasoned the best thing to do was ask someone who could tell me. Today I phoned Jason Trent. Holy crab, that man has gone pure hostile! Aside from straightaway flooring me with uncalled-for brusqueness he refused to give me the name of the Captain, choosing instead to sneer “you can use your Internet savvy to find that out.”
Excuze-ay-moi? You. Have got. To be. Freaking. Kidding. Me.
All right, jackhole. I will find out.
Which means I now must go nosing into the working lives of seven Law Enforcement men I primarily had not a splinter of interest in.
I’ve already established there’s just no way to ascertain from the Internet what Captain from the seven is the one connected to the JADE Task Force. I guess I’ll have to incur other savvies to figure it out.
Seven. It’s too bad I don’t have the smarts to detect the obvious guy and start with him.
Rather than giving me a simple answer that would’ve been relegated to periodic echoes deep within the caverns of my brain exclusively, Mr. Trent’s thrown me a (potentially huge) project -- one I can share on I HeArTE JADE.
Way to go not giving me site fodder, sir.
JADE Task Force Command Group
Virginia State Police Bureau of Criminal Investigation Captain
University of Virginia Police Chief
Albemarle County Police Chief
Charlottesville City Police Chief
Virginia State Police Bureau of Criminal Investigation Captain
University of Virginia Police Chief
Albemarle County Police Chief
Charlottesville City Police Chief
I knew beforehand that Chief John F. Miller is with Albemarle County and Timothy J. Longo is the Police Chief of Charlottesville, and I recently learned the Chief of Police for the University of Virginia is Michael A. Gibson.
 |  |
The only person I wasn’t sure about was the VSP BCI Captain. I gave that a quick look-up. Sheesh. There are seven possibilities.
I reasoned the best thing to do was ask someone who could tell me. Today I phoned Jason Trent. Holy crab, that man has gone pure hostile! Aside from straightaway flooring me with uncalled-for brusqueness he refused to give me the name of the Captain, choosing instead to sneer “you can use your Internet savvy to find that out.”
Excuze-ay-moi? You. Have got. To be. Freaking. Kidding. Me.
All right, jackhole. I will find out.
Which means I now must go nosing into the working lives of seven Law Enforcement men I primarily had not a splinter of interest in.
I’ve already established there’s just no way to ascertain from the Internet what Captain from the seven is the one connected to the JADE Task Force. I guess I’ll have to incur other savvies to figure it out.
Seven. It’s too bad I don’t have the smarts to detect the obvious guy and start with him.
Rather than giving me a simple answer that would’ve been relegated to periodic echoes deep within the caverns of my brain exclusively, Mr. Trent’s thrown me a (potentially huge) project -- one I can share on I HeArTE JADE.
Way to go not giving me site fodder, sir.
Behind The Badge
Sometimes Jefferson Area Drug Enforcement Task Force members will don their swaggin’ black jackets, call for special weapons and drug dogs, and make use of the Virginia State Police.
That guy, right there, the passenger? Has a firearm the size of me.
And the wheels keep rolling.
I’m thinkin’ one of these times we should all just ride together.
What a difference the sunshine makes!
This is where the pictures end for you. I took stacks more but -- you know the drill -- to pro-tect. My. Self. Aaaaaand others… Blah, blah. Blah.
That guy, right there, the passenger? Has a firearm the size of me.
And the wheels keep rolling.
I’m thinkin’ one of these times we should all just ride together.
What a difference the sunshine makes!
This is where the pictures end for you. I took stacks more but -- you know the drill -- to pro-tect. My. Self. Aaaaaand others… Blah, blah. Blah.
20090706
Paul Best For Sheriff
Check this out.
If you enter paul best for sheriff in a Google search, his site www.paulbestforsheriff.com doesn’t even make the list. At all. In the about 1,100,000 results. Nowhere in there. No sir.
See whose site is ranking though with paul best for sheriff, and right near the tippy-top? Yup. Mine. This one. I HeArTE JADE.
Heh.
To be fair, if you quoterize -- “paul best for sheriff” -- www.paulbestforsheriff.com does show up.
Right smack underneath iheartejade.blogspot.com
Aw yeah.
(Google placement subject to frequent change.)
If you enter paul best for sheriff in a Google search, his site www.paulbestforsheriff.com doesn’t even make the list. At all. In the about 1,100,000 results. Nowhere in there. No sir.
See whose site is ranking though with paul best for sheriff, and right near the tippy-top? Yup. Mine. This one. I HeArTE JADE.
Heh.
To be fair, if you quoterize -- “paul best for sheriff” -- www.paulbestforsheriff.com does show up.
Right smack underneath iheartejade.blogspot.com
Aw yeah.
(Google placement subject to frequent change.)
20090705
Paul Best For Sheriff
“My name is Paul Best and I am a Detective with the Charlottesville Police Department assigned to the Jefferson Area Drug Enforcement Task Force.”
Detective Best’s campaign announcement speech can be read in its entirety on www.paulbestforsheriff.com
20090704
Bygone News
February 2008
U.S. Attorney John L. Brownlee announced Wednesday that Reynold George Samuels, Jr., age 39, of Charlottesville and Waynesboro, Virginia, and seven other defendants were indicted by a federal Grand Jury sitting in Charlottesville, Virginia. The identities of the remaining defendants is sealed pending their arrests and appearances before a federal judge.More.
All of the accused were indicted on charges related to an alleged continuing criminal enterprise, headed by Samuels that distributed illegal drugs and pirated DVDs throughout the Western District of Virginia.
Members of the group were also indicted for illegally possessing firearms and for specific distributions of controlled substances over the past five years.
The accused were charged in a 14-count indictment. All of the charges arose from a cooperative investigation involving the JADE Task Force, the Drug Enforcement Administration, the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms, and the Federal Bureau of Investigation.
20090703
Thanks, Special Agent, For The Suggestion
VA State BCI-man Trent nonchalantly (yeah, right) brought up my duct-tape-headlights trick, upon which I told him I now use magnetic strips. They’re easier to get on and off, move around, et cetera. He responded it’s illegal to do that. Forgive me if I doubt he was being honest. However having been alerted to the possibility that I might be breaking the law, in addition to possibly being ticketed for it, I’ve given it a fair amount of consideration. Specifically, what I could do instead.
It occurs to me that aftermarket vehicle modification is not uncommon. One can buy light shields from any ol’ place like AutoZone, order fanciers off the Internet, or custom-make them yourself. Of course that still doesn’t mean it’s officially permissible.
I also recall an odd teevee series from way back called Stingray. There isn’t much I remember from the show, except I do recollect a part where the main character was tailing whatever malefic villain and every time they turned a corner he pushed a button and his front lamps morphed into a unique style; they popped up, they sunk in, they rounded, they dimmed. Nifty indeed, but too extreme for my needs. Maybe not the dimming stuff, though. That would be what, a matter of wiring?
I’ve thought about Law Enforcement tactics, because we all know officers wouldn’t violate laws to enforce laws. This article on FBI surveillance provides an idea of the electrical manipulation direction my mind is going in. Mix in a memory of a Stella Marrs postcard -- I can bake a cake to die for -- and I’m believing doin’ a little headlights work is within the realm of my capabilities.
Therefore I’m reading anything and everything that might help me do this and I’m familiarizing myself with the relevant parts under the hood (the thing I left ajar, I know). I’m studying VA motor vehicles codes as well, on account it’s appealing but mainly to see if Mr. Trent was telling me the truth for once.
If nothing else, the filing cabinet that’s inside my skull will have so much new information. How bad can that be?
It occurs to me that aftermarket vehicle modification is not uncommon. One can buy light shields from any ol’ place like AutoZone, order fanciers off the Internet, or custom-make them yourself. Of course that still doesn’t mean it’s officially permissible.
I also recall an odd teevee series from way back called Stingray. There isn’t much I remember from the show, except I do recollect a part where the main character was tailing whatever malefic villain and every time they turned a corner he pushed a button and his front lamps morphed into a unique style; they popped up, they sunk in, they rounded, they dimmed. Nifty indeed, but too extreme for my needs. Maybe not the dimming stuff, though. That would be what, a matter of wiring?
I’ve thought about Law Enforcement tactics, because we all know officers wouldn’t violate laws to enforce laws. This article on FBI surveillance provides an idea of the electrical manipulation direction my mind is going in. Mix in a memory of a Stella Marrs postcard -- I can bake a cake to die for -- and I’m believing doin’ a little headlights work is within the realm of my capabilities.
Therefore I’m reading anything and everything that might help me do this and I’m familiarizing myself with the relevant parts under the hood (the thing I left ajar, I know). I’m studying VA motor vehicles codes as well, on account it’s appealing but mainly to see if Mr. Trent was telling me the truth for once.
If nothing else, the filing cabinet that’s inside my skull will have so much new information. How bad can that be?
Let The Drummer Kick
From the map came a location.
From the location came a man.
From the media came a name.
From the name came a picture:
From the picture came a match?
Kind of looked like the same Jefferson Area Drug Enforcement Task Force Officer anyway. Hard to tell, horizontally. I thought up a way to be sure.
I started with a property search in the City of Charlottesville but found no records. On the County of Albemarle site I queried “Hatter, J” and got one result.
Some time later in a boredom-stirred early morning drive-by staring, I saw and recognized the silver Monte Carlo parked outside the house at that address.
And that’s how I learned the man I’d nicknamed Dasani was Charlottesville Police JADE Sgt. Joe Hatter.
From the location came a man.
From the media came a name.
From the name came a picture:
From the picture came a match?
Kind of looked like the same Jefferson Area Drug Enforcement Task Force Officer anyway. Hard to tell, horizontally. I thought up a way to be sure.
I started with a property search in the City of Charlottesville but found no records. On the County of Albemarle site I queried “Hatter, J” and got one result.
Some time later in a boredom-stirred early morning drive-by staring, I saw and recognized the silver Monte Carlo parked outside the house at that address.
And that’s how I learned the man I’d nicknamed Dasani was Charlottesville Police JADE Sgt. Joe Hatter.
Erst News
February 2007
Drug arrest on West MainSource.
More charges possible in crack sting
Larry Jermaine Jones, a 24-year-old Palmyra man, was arrested and charged with possession of cocaine and intent to distribute. In an “undercover operation,” Jefferson Area Drug Enforcement Task Force (JADE) (www.charlottesville.org) officers and Fluvanna police found 10 grams of crack cocaine valued at about $2,000 at the 900 block of W. Main Street in a residential/commercial space. Though a press release says more people may be involved, City spokesman Barrick says the bust was not that large.
JADE Sergeant Joe Hatter could not be reached for comment.
Renovation
I’ve added some new curtains,
You may have noticed, or maybe you didn’t notice, the disclaimer of sorts at the top of I HeArTE JADE. I figure I’ll leave it up there in the heavens for a few days -- long enough for people to go “Uh-Oh. What is she up to now?” -- then drop it down to hell where it’ll largely be ignored by everyone thereafter.
moved some furniture around,
Those familiar with my self-amusing antics know I like obscure rearrangement but this time I went with a transparent motif. Latest site changes are in booooooorrrring obvious places.
have a couple of art pieces to hang on the wall on their way,
I’m betting VA State Police Special Agent Jason Trent now has this bookmarked on his O-Fish-Ullll BCI computer and doesn’t look at much, if anything, else here. Any takers? (Ya know the only reason I mess with him is ‘cause he keeps steppin’ in my s… pace.)
and torched the beehive with gasoline.
You may have noticed, or maybe you didn’t notice, the disclaimer of sorts at the top of I HeArTE JADE. I figure I’ll leave it up there in the heavens for a few days -- long enough for people to go “Uh-Oh. What is she up to now?” -- then drop it down to hell where it’ll largely be ignored by everyone thereafter.
moved some furniture around,
Those familiar with my self-amusing antics know I like obscure rearrangement but this time I went with a transparent motif. Latest site changes are in booooooorrrring obvious places.
have a couple of art pieces to hang on the wall on their way,
I’m betting VA State Police Special Agent Jason Trent now has this bookmarked on his O-Fish-Ullll BCI computer and doesn’t look at much, if anything, else here. Any takers? (Ya know the only reason I mess with him is ‘cause he keeps steppin’ in my s… pace.)
and torched the beehive with gasoline.
20090702
If The Subsequent Information Is Incorrect, Fault His Respective Department
- Don Campbell’s badge number is CP6.
- Joe Hatter’s badge number is CP15.
- Granville Fields’ badge number is CP302.
- Paul Best’s badge number is CP305.
- Brian O’Donnell’s badge number is CP309.
- John Baber’s badge number is AP228.
- Jon Seitz’s badge number is AP601.
- Jon McKay’s badge number is AP604.
- Joe Fleming’s badge number is VSP4098.
- Jimmy Bunch’s badge number is UP153.
- I don’t know (yet) if ATF agents even have badge numbers, which is why John Stoltz is missing from this list.
20090627
Setting the Table
2009 Source.29. I’d like to know how the “level” -- low, middle, upper -- of drug dealers is determined. What exactly is the criteria? Is there an across-the-board scale law enforcement follows; is it gut feeling; does it vary depending on agencies, cities, et cetera?
30. How is Table 18 indicative of JADE’s effectiveness? It looks to me like it’s devoid of crucial data needed to support their proclamation. If the Task Force had 211 arrests in 2004 and they could’ve made 4002 arrests, then the program’s not as cricket as they make it sound. Or is any capture and confiscation proof they’re effective? 300 grams of cocaine seized in 2003 would be impressive if all that was left in Charlottesville and Albemarle was, say, 12. Okay, there’s really no way to tell those things. However one can see the year marijuana grabs went down, cocaine ones went up. Is that because there was less pot in their jurisdictions or because the focus of Jefferson Area Drug Enforcement shifted? Did meth beat out cocaine 3 years for the same reason(s)? There’s a lot of things the above table evidences; effectuality is not one of them.
20090626
Pieces of the Puzzled
About the VSP’s weird activity, here’s where I’m at so far:
Late night on 20090623 I made an “Experiment Without Explanation” post which contained only a photograph. If you read I HeArTE JADE regularly, you likely saw it; if you didn’t see it, you likely never will.
Because, as part of the project, and for fun, I deleted it, like, a day later.
However, should you be a Virginia State Policeman -- or anyone they like, for that matter -- you can probably have BCI Special Agent Jason Trent or maybe this man send a copy to you.
Because it, along with this entry and others, was emailed by and to specific Law Enforcement members.
I’m still investigating the matter.
Because I’m cool like that.
Late night on 20090623 I made an “Experiment Without Explanation” post which contained only a photograph. If you read I HeArTE JADE regularly, you likely saw it; if you didn’t see it, you likely never will.
Because, as part of the project, and for fun, I deleted it, like, a day later.
However, should you be a Virginia State Policeman -- or anyone they like, for that matter -- you can probably have BCI Special Agent Jason Trent or maybe this man send a copy to you.
Because it, along with this entry and others, was emailed by and to specific Law Enforcement members.
I’m still investigating the matter.
Because I’m cool like that.
VSP ESP
Something strange is going on with the Virginia State Police. Yeah, no, not like in-general; expressly with I HeArTE JADE.
Y’all know that I get a kick out of messin’ with Special Agent Jason Trent.
Well, through a source, I was led to believe that, though I remain under investigation, Mr. Trent is not the case man anymore.
So, at first, I was all: If this is true, Hooray! He can go back to pretending he’s a 14-year-old girl, and I can stop pretending to be fixated on him.
But, next, I was all: If this is true, why the change? Maybe they feel I’m fixated on him. Huh.
I had to corroborate the information -- because, sometimes, even the best grapevine can produce bad fruit, and because I’m completely incapable of not verifying things.
Only, before I got the chance to really get started on that, I got additional, other, information. This time it came with names.
It appears, uhm -- sorry to be mysterious -- it has something to do with a few of the… I’ll call them “Big Guns” of the VSP Bureau of Criminal Investigation.
I think it’s from me picking on their BCI pal. Which makes me declare, in caps: BUT, BUT, BUT I’M BEING GOOD!
I aim to sort it out to a logical conclusion.
This just gets larger, and goes on longer, and involves more and more and more and more people. Doesn’t bother me a bit.
And, to think, one man has the power to make all this go away.
Y’all know that I get a kick out of messin’ with Special Agent Jason Trent.
Well, through a source, I was led to believe that, though I remain under investigation, Mr. Trent is not the case man anymore.
So, at first, I was all: If this is true, Hooray! He can go back to pretending he’s a 14-year-old girl, and I can stop pretending to be fixated on him.
But, next, I was all: If this is true, why the change? Maybe they feel I’m fixated on him. Huh.
I had to corroborate the information -- because, sometimes, even the best grapevine can produce bad fruit, and because I’m completely incapable of not verifying things.
Only, before I got the chance to really get started on that, I got additional, other, information. This time it came with names.
It appears, uhm -- sorry to be mysterious -- it has something to do with a few of the… I’ll call them “Big Guns” of the VSP Bureau of Criminal Investigation.
I think it’s from me picking on their BCI pal. Which makes me declare, in caps: BUT, BUT, BUT I’M BEING GOOD!
I aim to sort it out to a logical conclusion.
This just gets larger, and goes on longer, and involves more and more and more and more people. Doesn’t bother me a bit.
And, to think, one man has the power to make all this go away.
20090625
Open Carry Might Not Be Safe
I edge my vehicle to one side of a street near the JADE office, shift to park, and shut the thing down. If the info I got that the Drug Enforcement men are going to be making a bust is correct -- and based on the presence of the multiple police cars I’m seeing at the Ix property, it is -- then I’ve about fifteen to twenty minutes before the Task Force comes out to perform their duties.
Checking oil and transmission fluid seems a practical way to waste the right amount of time so I tilt forward and pull a black lever next to my left knee. I’m rewarded with a plunking sound of the front cover letting loose.
As I reach for the handle to get out, the car’s sunshield above my brow vibrates. I wiggle my cell phone out of the container clipped to the visor. Uckf! I don’t want to talk to him right now. I shove the stirring object back in its holder, swipe the case down and secure it to a ribbon on my skirt. I swing open the door and step outside into the fair weather. Hey, is that…? Two people have exited together from the workplace in front of me.
I don’t know who the one male is but the dude he’s with is a Jefferson Area Drug Enforcement detective. I duck the top half of me inside the car to snatch a camera off the arm rest. The gadget powers on quickly. I plant it on the roof for steadiness and push the shutter once. Twice. A few more. The twosome, discernibly in no hurry, disappear from view. I could get some way better pictures of them if I move closer. The ideal place to relocate flashes to mind and, camera clasped in hand, I dash my way to it. Once there I speed-click about ten more photographs. They’re amazing oblivious.
Sudden motion draws my attention to the glass double-doors of the Ix building. Sinewy officers are spilling down the steps and fanning out towards their respective vehicles. I recognize some of them; some I do not. Some of their cars are marked; some not. I capture as many on camera as I can -- the men, their rides. I’m tempted to further prolong the picture-taking but it’s not a smart thing to do if I plan on successfully following them.
Dang, man! They’re loadin’ up fast. I’m racing for my wheels. At like ten feet away from my car my cell phone buzzes. Keys! Who is calling me at this very wrongest time? Door. Look back! Which direction are they going? Throw the camera in the console. I start the motor right as the last pair of policemen sweep out of sight.
Find me sixteen seconds later tagging ‘long at their rear. We navigate the local streets at a fairish rate, then hit 64. I’ve been making good use of my camera throughout but merging on the Interstate and brisk acceleration prompts me to put it away. I get comfy, prepare to give my undivided attention to the LEOs ahead. Now that I’m barreling down the road, I...
OH.
My Dear.
Lord. In Heaven.
The hood! I forgot to shut MY HOOD!
It’s noticeably quaking. Of all the stupid…
Officers Him and Him, now in the left lane, are picking up the pace. I curve my steering wheel to join them there, tip down the gas pedal as I assess the situation with my auto. Can I make it? But how far? Ehhh, I can make it. At this high-velocity the covering finally stops its agitated jerking up and down. Because the wind has taken complete control of it, straining the shield full-force. Agh! Should I keep going? What. Should I. Do? Visions of the giant metal sheet ripping off, flying into or over my car, and murdering most of the people behind me, win out. I activate my hazards, slow down and pull over with no deaths.
I check the time. Leap from the car to smash down the lid. It closes. Whew! Then springs immediately back open. Huh? I try again. It rebounds again. No! No. No. No. Noooooooo. I decide unlatching it, opening it all the way then dropping it, will do the trick. My fingers aren’t finding the hasp. Any other moment this would not be a problem. Eventually, with a reverberant bang, I get the hood closed.
Reseated inside, I look at the clock again. The number actually hasn’t changed. But, still. Those guys have made it to the ocean by now. I mindfully file this adventure under “learning experience” and move on.
Checking oil and transmission fluid seems a practical way to waste the right amount of time so I tilt forward and pull a black lever next to my left knee. I’m rewarded with a plunking sound of the front cover letting loose.
As I reach for the handle to get out, the car’s sunshield above my brow vibrates. I wiggle my cell phone out of the container clipped to the visor. Uckf! I don’t want to talk to him right now. I shove the stirring object back in its holder, swipe the case down and secure it to a ribbon on my skirt. I swing open the door and step outside into the fair weather. Hey, is that…? Two people have exited together from the workplace in front of me.
I don’t know who the one male is but the dude he’s with is a Jefferson Area Drug Enforcement detective. I duck the top half of me inside the car to snatch a camera off the arm rest. The gadget powers on quickly. I plant it on the roof for steadiness and push the shutter once. Twice. A few more. The twosome, discernibly in no hurry, disappear from view. I could get some way better pictures of them if I move closer. The ideal place to relocate flashes to mind and, camera clasped in hand, I dash my way to it. Once there I speed-click about ten more photographs. They’re amazing oblivious.
Sudden motion draws my attention to the glass double-doors of the Ix building. Sinewy officers are spilling down the steps and fanning out towards their respective vehicles. I recognize some of them; some I do not. Some of their cars are marked; some not. I capture as many on camera as I can -- the men, their rides. I’m tempted to further prolong the picture-taking but it’s not a smart thing to do if I plan on successfully following them.
Dang, man! They’re loadin’ up fast. I’m racing for my wheels. At like ten feet away from my car my cell phone buzzes. Keys! Who is calling me at this very wrongest time? Door. Look back! Which direction are they going? Throw the camera in the console. I start the motor right as the last pair of policemen sweep out of sight.
Find me sixteen seconds later tagging ‘long at their rear. We navigate the local streets at a fairish rate, then hit 64. I’ve been making good use of my camera throughout but merging on the Interstate and brisk acceleration prompts me to put it away. I get comfy, prepare to give my undivided attention to the LEOs ahead. Now that I’m barreling down the road, I...
OH.
My Dear.
Lord. In Heaven.
The hood! I forgot to shut MY HOOD!
It’s noticeably quaking. Of all the stupid…
Officers Him and Him, now in the left lane, are picking up the pace. I curve my steering wheel to join them there, tip down the gas pedal as I assess the situation with my auto. Can I make it? But how far? Ehhh, I can make it. At this high-velocity the covering finally stops its agitated jerking up and down. Because the wind has taken complete control of it, straining the shield full-force. Agh! Should I keep going? What. Should I. Do? Visions of the giant metal sheet ripping off, flying into or over my car, and murdering most of the people behind me, win out. I activate my hazards, slow down and pull over with no deaths.
I check the time. Leap from the car to smash down the lid. It closes. Whew! Then springs immediately back open. Huh? I try again. It rebounds again. No! No. No. No. Noooooooo. I decide unlatching it, opening it all the way then dropping it, will do the trick. My fingers aren’t finding the hasp. Any other moment this would not be a problem. Eventually, with a reverberant bang, I get the hood closed.
Reseated inside, I look at the clock again. The number actually hasn’t changed. But, still. Those guys have made it to the ocean by now. I mindfully file this adventure under “learning experience” and move on.
20090622
Charlottesville's BEST CHOICE Just Became A Public Figure
Paul Best, a detective with the Charlottesville Police Department assigned to the Jefferson Area Drug Enforcement Task Force, announced this morning his candidacy for City Sheriff.Paul Best made the announcement Friday on Charlottesville's Downtown Mall. Best will run as an independent against Democratic nominee James Brown.
Best has 15 years experience in law enforcement and now works on the Jefferson Area Drug Enforcement Task Force.
Best says he will use his experience to initiate a "gang reduction and intervention program."
Best, 39, said he decided to run for sheriff because he would like to improve the quality of life in Charlottesville and he thinks certain core services of the Sheriff’s Office can be expanded.
20090621
sEE wHAT aLL tRANSPIRED
“You see that man, over there, wearing the camouflage pants?” the gesturing little girl asked me. “That’s my dad” she bragged.
“That one?” I responded, pointing my finger like her. “In the green shirt?”
“Yeah.” She nodded, but then, as though to make absolutely sure I’d gotten the right one, she repeated me. “In the green shirt?”
“Yes. Green shirt. I see him.”
“Mmhm. With sunglasses?”
“Sunglasses, yes.”
“Yep. That’s him.”
I was trying to keep a straight face -- as were the four people lounging on the bleacher around us -- while I teased the unknown chatterbox who’d attached herself to me. The area we all were looking at was packed with about a hundred males, nearly every one of them decked out in camouflage pants, a green shirt, and shades.
Because it’s precisely the sort of thing I ♥, I went to the 9th annual SWAT competition in Harrisonburg this past weekend.
I got to see representatives from eleven departments, divided into fifteen respective teams, do things like breach doors, maneuver an obstacle course, climb a wall, and shoot.
Firearms-type challenges are always my favorite. So much so, that, on this occasion, the first day I climbed up a scaffold that was on the immediate edge of the range to watch the bullets fly. No better place to be than above participants, right? Too bad the object had been relocated for police use by day two.
Many of the officers could no doubt take out a mouse on an elephant’s tail from fifty yards away, though there were a couple of them that probably couldn’t hit even the elephant. I can’t remember which team it was, but as a sniper climbed down from turf on the roof after obliterating his own targets he good-naturedly said to his teammate below “what -- were you shootin’ blanks?”
I spoke to numerous Law Enforcement, raced a Sergeant on these monkey bars (he beat me by like two seconds!), plus got a new shirt, screensaver, and suntan. Also, I couldn’t help but notice the Charlottesville teams had their names stitched to their asses -- which I think is hilarious.
I could go on and on, and on, about all the awesomeness of the event and how nice the people were but this isn’t the site for that. In fact, the only reason I bring it up here at all is because Jefferson Area Drug Enforcement has SWAT guys and they were in attendance:
Hell-Oh. Stud. It just wouldn’t be an echt I HeArTE JADE entry if I didn’t mention I do believe the most handsome man there was, of course, Spot:
“That one?” I responded, pointing my finger like her. “In the green shirt?”
“Yeah.” She nodded, but then, as though to make absolutely sure I’d gotten the right one, she repeated me. “In the green shirt?”
“Yes. Green shirt. I see him.”
“Mmhm. With sunglasses?”
“Sunglasses, yes.”
“Yep. That’s him.”
I was trying to keep a straight face -- as were the four people lounging on the bleacher around us -- while I teased the unknown chatterbox who’d attached herself to me. The area we all were looking at was packed with about a hundred males, nearly every one of them decked out in camouflage pants, a green shirt, and shades.
Because it’s precisely the sort of thing I ♥, I went to the 9th annual SWAT competition in Harrisonburg this past weekend.
I got to see representatives from eleven departments, divided into fifteen respective teams, do things like breach doors, maneuver an obstacle course, climb a wall, and shoot.
Firearms-type challenges are always my favorite. So much so, that, on this occasion, the first day I climbed up a scaffold that was on the immediate edge of the range to watch the bullets fly. No better place to be than above participants, right? Too bad the object had been relocated for police use by day two.
Many of the officers could no doubt take out a mouse on an elephant’s tail from fifty yards away, though there were a couple of them that probably couldn’t hit even the elephant. I can’t remember which team it was, but as a sniper climbed down from turf on the roof after obliterating his own targets he good-naturedly said to his teammate below “what -- were you shootin’ blanks?”
I spoke to numerous Law Enforcement, raced a Sergeant on these monkey bars (he beat me by like two seconds!), plus got a new shirt, screensaver, and suntan. Also, I couldn’t help but notice the Charlottesville teams had their names stitched to their asses -- which I think is hilarious.
I could go on and on, and on, about all the awesomeness of the event and how nice the people were but this isn’t the site for that. In fact, the only reason I bring it up here at all is because Jefferson Area Drug Enforcement has SWAT guys and they were in attendance:
Hell-Oh. Stud. It just wouldn’t be an echt I HeArTE JADE entry if I didn’t mention I do believe the most handsome man there was, of course, Spot:
20090618
20090617
I M Bean On Mai Bestest Beehiveyour
Dunno why that last word up there went all like uber-ugly bad Brit accent but, since it works, I’m keepin’ it. Turns out concocting distinctive titles on a regular basis is not as easy as one might expect. Now that I’m vexing degree-of-difficulty, those Bullet Lists of mine are the hardest things to do! But back to the topic: Conduct -- specifically, mine.I gathered from my last conversation with Virginia SP BCI SA Jason Trent (G-O-O-G-L-E), as long as they’re content I’m not doing anything “new,” I’m safe from arrest. Apparently the ongoing updates to iHeArTEjade do not constitute “new.” Provided I’m posting pictures that depict last fall’s foliage or stories that describe gelid weather conditions denoting the tail is not recent, that is. And using nothing -- current or yore -- that outs Task Force informants. No bringing up their in-progress drug investigations, either. Come to think of it, there’s a heck of a lot of stipulations.
Did you just hear something? That was the sound of my eyes rolling.
Ordinarily I’d snub illegitimate dictations issued by Law Enforcement, and keep on keeping on, but I’ve a few matters of extreme interest under construction which are compelling me to not be haled in metal loops by Agent Trent any time soon. Whereas I believe it’d be tough and a half for the powers that be to get a conviction for anything I’ve done or am doing, a combat in court to prove that will have to wait.
Avoid the two Detectives, Truck and Longhead, that are being especially pissy about this I HeArTE JADE junk? Check. Take extra extra care with site entries and images? Sure. Leave the Jefferson Area Drug Enforcement Task Force be? Not a chance.
20090616
I did not know in fact, that I did, in fact, know what I’d be charged with, so, now that I know that I know, now, I don’t know that I care.
If it wasn’t evident, I talked to Special Agent Jason Trent of the Virginia State Police again. Should I have only my blog labels to use to define why I called him last Thursday, I’d go with “Experiment Without Explanation.” Anyhoo, it’s out of my conversation with Mr. Trent that I’m able to serve up the undermentioned brain blend:
From an assortment of informal comments Agent Trent has made, I think it’d be killer to speak with him about his work and cases. For instance, he said something about interview techniques and classes and my psyche was thenceforth whisked into a cyclone of curiosity-filled inquiries. It bites that he’ll never willingly reply to my questions regarding his profession.
I was asked completely out of nowhere by Mr. Trent why I recently sold my car. I’m not certain if his query was supposed to be of the we’re-watching-you-lady intimidation variety but if that’s how it was meant, dare I say FAIL? I’m mountains more interested in the possible technical aspects of how he knew of the sale. They have a DMV flag on me, maybe? Because, is that even a for real thing they can do?
Speaking of can do, why do these officers appear to be of the opinion that just because I can do something it must mean I did? Actually whether I can do or not seems largely irrelevant, all it really takes is for them to feel I can. (This other brief exchange I had with Agent Trent about his telephone number is perhaps a decent, albeit minor, example of what I mean.) Don’t even get me started on their similiar nutball notion that just because I can do something it must mean I will. I find both very confusing. And annoying; I find both very annoying. Hphft!
Mr. Trent made a point to point out he admitted he’d lied to me, as if that makes his lying Ooooo Kkkkkk. Just a thought, but Logic: You’re Doing It Wrong. He also pointedly stated most people who are being investigated don’t know they are (I guess until the point of arrest?), as if that… yeah, I’ve not a clue what his point there was, but, somehow, I feel like I’ve been enlightened and, for that, I’m grateful.
From an assortment of informal comments Agent Trent has made, I think it’d be killer to speak with him about his work and cases. For instance, he said something about interview techniques and classes and my psyche was thenceforth whisked into a cyclone of curiosity-filled inquiries. It bites that he’ll never willingly reply to my questions regarding his profession.
I was asked completely out of nowhere by Mr. Trent why I recently sold my car. I’m not certain if his query was supposed to be of the we’re-watching-you-lady intimidation variety but if that’s how it was meant, dare I say FAIL? I’m mountains more interested in the possible technical aspects of how he knew of the sale. They have a DMV flag on me, maybe? Because, is that even a for real thing they can do?
Speaking of can do, why do these officers appear to be of the opinion that just because I can do something it must mean I did? Actually whether I can do or not seems largely irrelevant, all it really takes is for them to feel I can. (This other brief exchange I had with Agent Trent about his telephone number is perhaps a decent, albeit minor, example of what I mean.) Don’t even get me started on their similiar nutball notion that just because I can do something it must mean I will. I find both very confusing. And annoying; I find both very annoying. Hphft!
Mr. Trent made a point to point out he admitted he’d lied to me, as if that makes his lying Ooooo Kkkkkk. Just a thought, but Logic: You’re Doing It Wrong. He also pointedly stated most people who are being investigated don’t know they are (I guess until the point of arrest?), as if that… yeah, I’ve not a clue what his point there was, but, somehow, I feel like I’ve been enlightened and, for that, I’m grateful.
20090613
Every Man Gets His Day In Court. Then Another Day. Then Another Day.
It seems to me the Jefferson Area Drug Enforcement men spend a significant portion of their working lives in court.
I’m not sure how often this type of thing happens but, according to VCCI, on June 11 like half the members of the Task Force I think were in one court or another -- some of the officers appearing in one court and another.
A handful of their cases from that day were continued to various later dates after having already been carried over from previous dates.
Could probably make a dandy tongue-twister out of this stuff. Please parallel park for your perpetually pending proceedings.
Yestermonth News
Mid-May 2009
A Waynesboro man arrested during an alleged drug deal in Albemarle County was charged Tuesday for felony possession of a firearm and cocaine possession.Source.
Martin L. Foster, 36, left his 9-year-old child alone in Waynesboro when he went to sell cocaine in Albemarle County, Waynesboro police Sgt. Kelly Walker said. The JADE Task Force busted Foster with 2 ounces of cocaine, according to a police search warrant. He then told police of 4 ounces kept at his Mulberry Street home in Waynesboro.
Police seized cocaine, firearms, cell phones, a black bat and more than $4,000 from his home at 1511 Mulberry Street.
An investigation continues into possible child neglect in Waynesboro, Walker said.
Foster remains in custody at Albemarle-Charlottesville Regional Jail.
20090612
Three For Trent
1.
What's this? I do believe it's, among other things, you giving me that particular phone number of yours. Huh. Imagine that. 434-352-3445. Yep.
2.
3.
Doesn't it just make your day go peachy to know that you are the only person who truly is being forced to read iHeArTEjade? Oh, no, wait; it's me whose day goes peachy to know that.
What's this? I do believe it's, among other things, you giving me that particular phone number of yours. Huh. Imagine that. 434-352-3445. Yep.
2.
Main Entry: re·la·tion·shipThe foundation of our relationship is based, Mr. Trent, on your liesssss. Plural. So you see, it's perfectly correct -- in all senses.
Function: Noun
Date: 1741
3a: a state of affairs existing between those having relations or dealings with each other. He had a good relationship with his family.
3.
Doesn't it just make your day go peachy to know that you are the only person who truly is being forced to read iHeArTEjade? Oh, no, wait; it's me whose day goes peachy to know that.
20090610
JADE In Fonts And Colors
jade charlottesville
jade task force
jefferson area drug enforcement
jade charlottesville
jade task force
jefferson area drug enforcement
jade charlottesville
jade task force
jefferson area drug enforcement
jade charlottesville
jade task force
jefferson area drug enforcement
jade charlottesville
jade task force
jefferson area drug enforcement
jade charlottesville
jade task force
jefferson area drug enforcement
jade task force
jefferson area drug enforcement
jade charlottesville
jade task force
jefferson area drug enforcement
jade charlottesville
jade task force
jefferson area drug enforcement
jade charlottesville
jade task force
jefferson area drug enforcement
jade charlottesville
jade task force
jefferson area drug enforcement
jade charlottesville
jade task force
jefferson area drug enforcement
This, I Do Not Understand
I can be driving down any given road at some 60+ miles an hour on a sunny, happy day and manage to take photographs of Task Force Officers that are so clear and perfect they look staged. But tack on any variation of cat-and-dog weather -- about to rain, is raining, just finished raining -- and I abstrusely get pictures like this:
This:
And this:
I mean, I grasp the concept of why this one (taken while in motion) would come out this way:
Which is why I knew what to do to fix it for a (still in motion) better one:
But this one? Makes no sense to me:
I swear that really is a car! On a street! In daylight!
P.S. I just found out I swear a lot.
This:
And this:
I mean, I grasp the concept of why this one (taken while in motion) would come out this way:
Which is why I knew what to do to fix it for a (still in motion) better one:
But this one? Makes no sense to me:
I swear that really is a car! On a street! In daylight!
P.S. I just found out I swear a lot.
20090607
Club Mouse
Mouse is such a good driver I can even follow him if I’m in front of him. The way traffic is flowing, I’m forced into that very situation right now.
A tricked-out old red Honda is separating us. Using my mirrors I pay extra careful attention to Mouse’s vehicle rolling along in the background. I know the Sergeant will give me the visual cues I need to clue me in to his upcoming moves; I just have to watch for them.
Sure ‘nuff. After miles with no change in speed, I notice the Dodge slacks off an itsy fraction and drifts nearer to the single solid line painted on the road’s right shoulder. I wait a few seconds to be convinced he’s not going to scootch back over to the center of the lane. He holds tight to his course. Eyup, he’s definitely takin’ the next exit. When the marker for the off-ramp comes into sight, I put my right signal on and peer in my rearview. 4… 3… 2… Mouse’s blinker suddenly lights up. Told ya so. I told ya so! I bop about in my seat with delight.
Sweeping past the green and white sign, I process the location. Partially up the track I’m pretty certain of the man’s destination. I look to minivanned Mouse for confirmation. His right flasher dies, his left one promptly comes to life. Yes -- two for two!
I want to stop being in the lead so I hustle underneath the traffic controller, going right. In my wake I eye what’s happening with Mouse, enough to verify he’s going where I expect, then I slowly U around in the middle of the street. I’ll give him some extra room just in case. In case of what, precisely? I have no idea.
There are no cars to prevent me from proceeding after Mouse but since I’m unprepared for a brush with the lean Drug Enforcement Officer today, I hang in one of those so-called suicide lanes for a mo to allow the fellow time to settle in. Perhaps a minute passes before I make the same turn Mouse has and wind my way up the lane to the Birdwood Country Club as he did.
Mouse’s transportation is parked at the left side in the front row. I drive by it and enter the lot from the other direction to park near the right side in a neighboring row. From here it’s easy to tell his van is unoccupied. Lessee… where’s he playing this afternoon?
Outside, it doesn’t take me long to find him even though he looks a little different. I guess because of the chilly weather he’s swapped out his baseball cap for a black pullover hat. Unrelated to the climate he’s traded his tennis shoes for golf shoes. He’s all, like, Pro ‘n stuff.
I don’t know what the temperature is but, me being 100% cold-intolerant, after placing Mouse I flee to my warm car to defrost myself. I know he comes here often but I’ve never stuck around to find out how long he actually stays. On this occasion I decide to.
I pay several bills over the phone, read “Cops” by Mark Baker cover-to-cover, and lower my window to say to a tiny, cute gal wearing a tiny, cute golfing skirt I think she’s insane to be that bare-legged at whatever iceberg degree it is. She giggles and lifts her micro to show me her short-shorts beneath. Why, there’s nothing like thermal panties to make it seem like it’s positively Summer out there.
The digits on the clock ooze from one number to the next. This is worse than watching Porn Star watching a dealer. More than two hours elapse before Mouse returns to the lot, loads up his sports accessories, and changes into his original attire.
I figured he’d be here a while, but two freakin’ hours? I mull over these recurrent excursions of Mouse’s as he drives, with me close behind, right smack back to the JADE office where we started. I swear I will never again just sit there and wait like that after tailing one of these guys. Unless…
A tricked-out old red Honda is separating us. Using my mirrors I pay extra careful attention to Mouse’s vehicle rolling along in the background. I know the Sergeant will give me the visual cues I need to clue me in to his upcoming moves; I just have to watch for them.
Sure ‘nuff. After miles with no change in speed, I notice the Dodge slacks off an itsy fraction and drifts nearer to the single solid line painted on the road’s right shoulder. I wait a few seconds to be convinced he’s not going to scootch back over to the center of the lane. He holds tight to his course. Eyup, he’s definitely takin’ the next exit. When the marker for the off-ramp comes into sight, I put my right signal on and peer in my rearview. 4… 3… 2… Mouse’s blinker suddenly lights up. Told ya so. I told ya so! I bop about in my seat with delight.
Sweeping past the green and white sign, I process the location. Partially up the track I’m pretty certain of the man’s destination. I look to minivanned Mouse for confirmation. His right flasher dies, his left one promptly comes to life. Yes -- two for two!
I want to stop being in the lead so I hustle underneath the traffic controller, going right. In my wake I eye what’s happening with Mouse, enough to verify he’s going where I expect, then I slowly U around in the middle of the street. I’ll give him some extra room just in case. In case of what, precisely? I have no idea.
There are no cars to prevent me from proceeding after Mouse but since I’m unprepared for a brush with the lean Drug Enforcement Officer today, I hang in one of those so-called suicide lanes for a mo to allow the fellow time to settle in. Perhaps a minute passes before I make the same turn Mouse has and wind my way up the lane to the Birdwood Country Club as he did.
Mouse’s transportation is parked at the left side in the front row. I drive by it and enter the lot from the other direction to park near the right side in a neighboring row. From here it’s easy to tell his van is unoccupied. Lessee… where’s he playing this afternoon?
Outside, it doesn’t take me long to find him even though he looks a little different. I guess because of the chilly weather he’s swapped out his baseball cap for a black pullover hat. Unrelated to the climate he’s traded his tennis shoes for golf shoes. He’s all, like, Pro ‘n stuff.
I don’t know what the temperature is but, me being 100% cold-intolerant, after placing Mouse I flee to my warm car to defrost myself. I know he comes here often but I’ve never stuck around to find out how long he actually stays. On this occasion I decide to.
I pay several bills over the phone, read “Cops” by Mark Baker cover-to-cover, and lower my window to say to a tiny, cute gal wearing a tiny, cute golfing skirt I think she’s insane to be that bare-legged at whatever iceberg degree it is. She giggles and lifts her micro to show me her short-shorts beneath. Why, there’s nothing like thermal panties to make it seem like it’s positively Summer out there.
The digits on the clock ooze from one number to the next. This is worse than watching Porn Star watching a dealer. More than two hours elapse before Mouse returns to the lot, loads up his sports accessories, and changes into his original attire.
I figured he’d be here a while, but two freakin’ hours? I mull over these recurrent excursions of Mouse’s as he drives, with me close behind, right smack back to the JADE office where we started. I swear I will never again just sit there and wait like that after tailing one of these guys. Unless…
As It So Happens
- Granville Fields is the one I have the most pictures of.
- Jon McKay is the one I like the best.
- Jon Seitz is the one I know the most about.
- Jimmy Bunch is the one I know the least about.
- Joe Hatter is the one I’ve least followed.
- Brian O’Donnell is the one I’ve most interacted with.
- Don Campbell is the one I’ve never spoken to.
- John Stoltz is the one I’ve never phoned.
- Paul Best is the one who seems most helpful.
- John Baber is the one who seems least intimidating.
- Joe Fleming is the one I wouldn’t want to meet in a dark alley.
- I am the one who thinks people take all this too seriously.
20090606
20090605
Right News (Wrong/Date)
Subtitle: Didn't I Just Mention JADE's Lack Of Media Coverage Like Two Days Ago? Subsubtitle: This Should Have Been Last Week's Story.
A Mineral man is behind bars facing drug charges.WCAV.
38-year-old James Hollins III is charged with possession of cocaine with the intent to distribute.
Investigators from the Jefferson Area Drug Enforcement Task Force say they seized about five ounces of cocaine during a bust on Lexington Avenue in Charlottesville Thursday (6/4) night.
The cocaine has a street value of $4800.
20090604
Not A Meth Lab After All -- Chemistry Major Pleads Guilty To Possession
From NBC29:More.
A University of Virginia student admitted Wednesday to illegally possessing amphetamine. Police, drug officers and haz-mat teams were all called to his apartment off 14th Street in Charlottesville back in March after several reports of chemical odors were reported.
20-year old Ian Diner, a second-year at the time, admitted he was guilty as part of a plea deal with the Commonwealth.
Lab reports indicate Diner was extracting amphetamine from Adderall pills, a stimulant, but not cooking meth as first had been thought.
[...]
The possession charge carries up to ten years in jail. Under the agreement, Diner likely won't be sentenced to more than probation.
20090603
News From Then
December 2007
A two-year investigation into a massive regional methamphetamine distribution ring resulted in 24 convictions, federal prosecutors announced Thursday.More.
Authorities busted two major organizations responsible for the distribution of more than 100 pounds of methamphetamine in Central Virginia, according to the U.S. Attorneys Office.
[...]
Lt. Don Campbell with the Jefferson Area Drug Enforcement task force said his department was involved in the investigation through wiretapping and serving warrants.
The Charlottesville area's methamphetamine problem pales in comparison with that of the Shenandoah Valley, Campbell said.
Campbell said JADE has only found two or three small methamphetamine labs during his five-year tenure. The labs were nowhere near the size of the ones found in the federal case, he said.
OLIO
I was practicin’ my invisibleness. How’d it go? you ask. Not sure; maybe someone like Spot the adorable could tell you.
JADE seems to be making an awful lot of Ay-rests lately that aren’t making news. Typical, I suppose. Out of 167 arrests credited to Jefferson Area Drug Enforcement in 2007, less than a dozen got coverage. (At the end of that year local rag The Hook used a one-liner to ridicule the Task Force for bragging about a 10 gram cocaine seizure.) 2008 saw a miniscule increase in reports. For the most part JADE is untouched by the media. That’s one of those “Secondary” type things I’m methodically exploring these days.
Realizing I neglected to make a copy of a document, I revisited the source. I expected to find Truck’s name on the record but, to my astonishment, now in its place is a woman’s. In lieu of the evidence that nothing else has changed to explain the switch, I’m going with it being the detective’s girlfriend -- whose name I did not have and did not want. Looks like in his effort to prevent people from scraping up any of his personal information in the future, Truck has actually managed to provide folks with more. So, um, yeah, that was m-f-ing brilliant of him.
Boomslang -- I told you he’d be back -- mentioned I HeArTE JADE is under boycott. The theory is that if it doesn’t get any readers, I’ll abandon it. Really? Really? Hey, someone let me know how that works out.
_________________________
JADE seems to be making an awful lot of Ay-rests lately that aren’t making news. Typical, I suppose. Out of 167 arrests credited to Jefferson Area Drug Enforcement in 2007, less than a dozen got coverage. (At the end of that year local rag The Hook used a one-liner to ridicule the Task Force for bragging about a 10 gram cocaine seizure.) 2008 saw a miniscule increase in reports. For the most part JADE is untouched by the media. That’s one of those “Secondary” type things I’m methodically exploring these days.
_________________________
Realizing I neglected to make a copy of a document, I revisited the source. I expected to find Truck’s name on the record but, to my astonishment, now in its place is a woman’s. In lieu of the evidence that nothing else has changed to explain the switch, I’m going with it being the detective’s girlfriend -- whose name I did not have and did not want. Looks like in his effort to prevent people from scraping up any of his personal information in the future, Truck has actually managed to provide folks with more. So, um, yeah, that was m-f-ing brilliant of him.
_________________________
Boomslang -- I told you he’d be back -- mentioned I HeArTE JADE is under boycott. The theory is that if it doesn’t get any readers, I’ll abandon it. Really? Really? Hey, someone let me know how that works out.
20090531
50-50 I Come Up With The List, You Come Up With The Title
- If Paul Best were an informant he wouldn’t work for JADE.
- Jon McKay has a red RAM 2500.
- Jon Seitz carries a blue lunchbox.
- Granville Fields’ middle name begins with Q.
- John Stoltz often parks his Charger in front of eloise.
- Joe Hatter drives the JADE van home sometimes.
- Brian O’Donnell doesn’t do “street stuff.”
- Don Campbell is an active participant in Task Force drug raids.
- Jimmy Bunch uses a leg holster.
- John Baber wears New Balance brand tennis shoes.
- Joe Fleming buys coffee at Starbucks.
- I swapped the pseudonyms formerly in these bullet lists to real names because of Google.
I HeArTE JADE
This entry is a test of the Emergency Oddcasting System. The producer developed this test to keep search engines informed of regularly updated content relevant to the Jefferson Area Drug Enforcement (JADE) Task Force. This is only a test.
This concludes this test of the Emergency Oddcasting System.
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jade drug task force charlottesville jade war on drugs officers
jade charlottesville jade task force jefferson area drug enforcement
jade drug task force charlottesville jade war on drugs officers
jade charlottesville jade task force jefferson area drug enforcement
jade drug task force charlottesville jade war on drugs officers
jade charlottesville jade task force jefferson area drug enforcement
jade drug task force charlottesville jade war on drugs officers
jade charlottesville jade task force jefferson area drug enforcement
jade drug task force charlottesville jade war on drugs officers
jade charlottesville jade task force jefferson area drug enforcement
This concludes this test of the Emergency Oddcasting System.
20090529
On the table:
Abolishing the pseudonyms on I HeArTE JADE and fully revoking my self-imposed “no outing” guideline.
A refresher:
Main reason I started using the fictitious names was because I didn’t know the true names of the Jefferson Area Drug Enforcement members. Continued to refer to the Task Force Officers by the nicks I gave them because, for one, believed the men worked JADE covertly and didn’t want to compromise that and, secondarily, got kinda used to -- and liked -- the monikers.
Recent thoughts:
Now I know who they are.
None of them work undercover.
All but one of them is listed by name in connection with JADE in public documents.
How silly is it to keep calling a 40-something-year-old policeman Porn Star, or Longhead?
Then again, their informants and investigations have goofesque names too.
The hang-up:
Weird mixture of aliases and actual identities. Fine; weirder mixture. I can’t expose everyone. Such as, Jason Trent might not care that I use his name but my Law Enforcement guys (Hi Boomslang and JumpOut!) will slaughter me D-E-A-D if theirs are revealed. So maybe I’d have to come up with new fake names that sound real. Which seems… meh.
One more thing:
Legal names of ten out of the eleven TFOs can already be found on here somewhere if one puts effort into looking for them -- I’ve never expected anyone to bother doing that though.
In conclusion:
Ha! I don’t know.
A refresher:
Main reason I started using the fictitious names was because I didn’t know the true names of the Jefferson Area Drug Enforcement members. Continued to refer to the Task Force Officers by the nicks I gave them because, for one, believed the men worked JADE covertly and didn’t want to compromise that and, secondarily, got kinda used to -- and liked -- the monikers.
Recent thoughts:
Now I know who they are.
None of them work undercover.
All but one of them is listed by name in connection with JADE in public documents.
How silly is it to keep calling a 40-something-year-old policeman Porn Star, or Longhead?
Then again, their informants and investigations have goofesque names too.
The hang-up:
Weird mixture of aliases and actual identities. Fine; weirder mixture. I can’t expose everyone. Such as, Jason Trent might not care that I use his name but my Law Enforcement guys (Hi Boomslang and JumpOut!) will slaughter me D-E-A-D if theirs are revealed. So maybe I’d have to come up with new fake names that sound real. Which seems… meh.
One more thing:
Legal names of ten out of the eleven TFOs can already be found on here somewhere if one puts effort into looking for them -- I’ve never expected anyone to bother doing that though.
In conclusion:
Ha! I don’t know.
20090528
gOOgle GaMeS
The aromaless rain shattered the ground. Narrow yard rivers created from skywater molded the grass into random shapes. It dried, remained that way. They grew -- the flowers, trees, the lawn. They pleaded to be breathed, climbed, laid on. Hands reached out to snap sunshine from the air. Eyelids lifted to look. Look! A sigh. It’s still stormy.
On another note:
On another note:
20090527
What else would a Drug Enforcement guy do other than something hyper-cool, right?
A lot is coming up ahead on my right. I see Mouse’s minivan at rest in one of the rows. I also see the mysterious JADE man is watching my auto wheeling toward his. I don’t want to stop anywhere near him. Neither do I want to pass immediately back by him.
I nudge my coupe onwards and stop in an arced drive. There I get out and walk inside a building that has its door propped open.
From two young guys at a desk I ask for directions to a place I already know the location of. “I go left? At… where -- the gas station?” I waste approximately three minutes of life with this type of pseudo-ditzy nonsense. The boys beam at me when I thank them for being so helpful. I dally back to my car.Pulling away I scope out Mouse’s vehicle again. He’s vacated it. I’m tempted to park but then what? I’m not sure I should go looking for him. Maybe he’s buying an 8-ball from some ghetto grub. I don’t want to mess that up.
I vamoose, vividly imagining Mouse is doing something hyper-cool.
I’ll find out later this is a trip he makes frequently and what he does here ain’t hyper-cool. For that matter, it can be summed up using one letter:
Zzz Zzz Zzz
Squared
I had a conversation with a suave Federal Agent whenever ago during which he, in rebuttal to my innocuous allegation that members of law enforcement never learn from their mistakes, cited a 1986 shootout that happened in Miami, Florida, involving the Federal Bureau of Investigation. I’d never heard of the event and I listened intently as my partner in dialogue gave me a compendious narration of the incident and asserted that the FBI had changed because of it. The gentleman further encouraged me to look into the story.
Ahhh, well, gee, if you insist…
I read whatever I could find. Mainstream news reports, theoretical articles, commentary from both the Federal-Bureau-of-Insidiots types and the pro-FBI side, plus all 621 pages of the inquiry carried on by the Feds themselves. I’m like wonk²!
Should I ever get an opportunity to revisit the discussion with the man, I may have to confess to him that I was wrong about my previous conclusion. And thank him, because, from the exploration, I’m now armed with a fresh contention for us to verbally wrestle about.
Thing is, I dig this kind of junk. Throw in another interest of mine, JADE, and a fifteen-paged document like this is bliss².
Ahhh, well, gee, if you insist…
I read whatever I could find. Mainstream news reports, theoretical articles, commentary from both the Federal-Bureau-of-Insidiots types and the pro-FBI side, plus all 621 pages of the inquiry carried on by the Feds themselves. I’m like wonk²!
Should I ever get an opportunity to revisit the discussion with the man, I may have to confess to him that I was wrong about my previous conclusion. And thank him, because, from the exploration, I’m now armed with a fresh contention for us to verbally wrestle about.
Thing is, I dig this kind of junk. Throw in another interest of mine, JADE, and a fifteen-paged document like this is bliss².
20090524
Narcantics
(Kisses to JumpOut for directing me to that after he read this. Oh, and for the entry title which is also his.)
20090523
Lapsed News
June 2008
A 27-year-old Charlottesville man faces 40 years in prison and a $2 million fine after pleading guilty to conspiring to possess and distribute more than 500 grams of cocaine.Source.
Renaldo Garcia Juarez on Tuesday pleaded guilty in U.S. District Court in Charlottesville, according to acting U.S. Attorney Julia C. Dudley. Juarez had also faced three counts of cocaine distribution.
Two other defendants in the same case have upcoming trials.
Arturo Miron Garcia, 24, and Julio Cesar Ruiz Ayala, 33, each face charges of conspiring to possess and distribute more than 500 grams of cocaine and one count of distributing five or more grams of cocaine.
If convicted, each man faces up to 60 years in prison and a $3 million fine.
The Jefferson Area Drug Enforcement task force arrested the men in March during a “buy/bust” operation in the 2300 block of Peyton Drive, near Albemarle High School.
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