It Takes A Task Force To Raze A Dealer

Albemarle Co. Man Arrested in JADE Cocaine Bust
April 14, 2010
Members of the Jefferson Area Drug Enforcement (JADE) Task Force arrested one man following a special operation in the 2600 block of Barracks Road in Albemarle County Monday.

Narcotic detectives seized approximately 16 grams of cocaine and seven grams of marijuana.

Dwayne Anthony Goodwin, 29, was arrested for possession of cocaine with intent to distribute and distribution of cocaine.

Goodwin was also arrested on two Albemarle County Circuit Court cAPIAS for distribution of of cocaine from previous JADE operations. He is being held without bond pending a hearing.

Police say the investigation is ongoing and additional charges and arrests are pending.

(Source)

Small Fish Hooked By JADE Sent Up River

Charlottesville man gets 15 years in drug sting, flight after
Published: April 12, 2010

A Charlottesville man involved in a short car and foot chase after he sold drugs to an informant in July has been sentenced to 15 years in prison.

U.S. District Judge Norman K. Moon sentenced Jeffery M. Terry on Monday in Charlottesville’s federal court to the prison term and eight years of supervised release in connection with the July incident.

As part of a plea agreement, Terry, 25, previously pleaded guilty to possession with the intent to distribute 5 grams or more of cocaine and possession of a firearm during a drug trafficking crime.

An informant for the Jefferson Area Drug Enforcement task force bought drugs from Terry before police tried to arrest him, according to an affidavit filed in court records.

Terry was in a car that didn’t pull over for police, instead driving into a dead-end street where a passenger got out and ran, court records said. Police have said the passenger was Terry.

(More)

Questions Without Answers

Was the person who arrived at my site via the search “jade officers untruthful” making an inquiry, or a statement?

Who tips dealers that Jefferson Area Drug Enforcement is watching them?

Where has ATF Agent John Stoltz been hiding his Charger?

Do confidential informants know the Task Force does little to protect the identities of their snitches?

Would they even care?

Why did Bing get that image of Trevor Ross before Google?

Is it considered “contact” if JADE follows me into a parking lot?

Does Charlottesville have more than one VSP Trooper who works the area?

How many coincidences does it take before a person knows it’s no longer coincidental?

What if the officers I trust are setting me up?

Gunslinger

♥ ♥ ♥

Six Counties Of Separation

One can’t do business at any business these days without an employee asking for some piece of one’s personal information. From safety to privacy, there are several reasons not to divulge chapter or verse about oneself -- consider, too, when you answer, you’re providing facts about yourself to every other stranger within hearing range, not just the stranger who’s asking. So I don’t care if it’s my telephone number, my first name, or even my zip code, my response to these inquiries is always “I don’t give that out.” Yes, while the rest of the population is walking around with their identities scribbled on their Starbucks cups, my Iced Latté is decorated with nothing but a cute smilie. Now that y’all know about where I stand on the matter…

I went into an automotive store I’m familiar with to pick up a part for my car. A salesman I’m not familiar with located the item for me.

“Is this something I can do myself?” I asked, gesturing to my vehicle outside -- obviously meaning: will you do it for me?

The fellow tapped some keys on the PC. A diagram for my specific hitch popped up. I received an explanation from Commander Can’t-Take-A-Hint on how I absolutely could handle it on my own. I paid $11 and left, wishing the cool employee I’m used to had been there. He always plays Mr. Fix-It for me.

I went into the Supercenter across the street for other necessities. Hmm… Iiiii wonder… I checked out their automotive department. The same thingamajig? $8. I wouldn’t have minded paying the extra three bucks for the part if the dude who’d sold it to me had also installed it for me, but, since he didn’t… I bought the cheaper one.

I went back to the automotive store. A different unknown male associate emerged. I plunked down the object, along with receipt. “I’d like to return this.”

Guy did his thing with the computer, little box on monitor opened.

Guy said “Phone number, please?”

I said “I don’t give that out.”

Guy informed me he couldn’t do a return without a phone number. “It’s against our ‘policy’” he said.

I informed him it’s against my policy to give my number out.

“I need a number” he insisted.

“Put in your number then!” I snapped.

“I’m not going to put in my number” he snapped back.

Guy and I stared each other down. Guy and I simultaneously had the same thought; he vocalized it. “Just make up a number.”

I did. Machine rejected it. Guy looked at me expectantly. I held a finger up and told him to wait. I unpocketed my cell phone, jumped to my contacts list. Ahhahaha… I got it! I rattled off the number of the Albemarle County Police Department. Guy punched it in. We watched the screen. Little box vanished, bigger box with a name and other information appeared.

I. About. Fell. On. The. Floor.

Guess which name it was.

John Baber.

As in Albemarle’s JADE Task Force Officer Sgt. John Baber. Exactly him. Of all the officers in all the ACPD, him!

And this occurred in, like, Crotch Dust County, Va. Far, far away from John Baber territory. Seriously, what are the chances of this happening to me?

Y’know what ices this even more bizarrely funny cake? Neither employee at either store gave me the correct part.

Signs... Shades... State Trooper...

Waving For Wednesday

I have a few errands to run around Court Square. If you’re not familiar with the area, it’s where several courthouses are located and it’s often frequented by policemen, attorneys, lawbreakers, me.

Some time ago when I was there I caught an STD -- Special Treatment Display. I saw a black truck parked in the vicinity that had this rectangular black sticker, with a blue line through it, on the rear glass. If the adhesive itself wasn’t enough to alert people to the fact that the owner of the vehicle is in Law Enforcement, the rig being in a spot reserved for officers certainly was. I took a few snapshots of it, all the while thinking a) so much for policemen not wanting to be identified as policemen, and b) there’s nothing to prevent non-cops from slapping the silly thing on their own automobiles. Unfortunately, my memory card in my camera went kaput and all those pictures were destroyed. Not too long afterward, interestingly enough, a Massachusetts-based site (now defunct) I follow put up a post, complete with visual aids -- pun intended -- about these STDs.

So I’m on my way to speak to a court clerk about a ticket when I roll up on a car that’s got an STD. Now, the sedan isn’t nearly as snazzy as the pickup and I’m wondering if its operator is really an officer. Regardless, I tug my equipment out to take photographs. As he and I navigate the road I click the shutter here and there.

It occurs to me as I’m getting closer to my destination that I’ve not had to deviate from my intended route while trailing after this unknown person. In fact, the further along we ride the more I think we’re going to the same place. And the more I think we’re going to the same place the more I think he likely is an officer. I try to remember who’s supposed to be in court today, but it escapes me. When we get closer to downtown, he turns left and I proceed straight. I attempt a side shot as I pass him but I get a “card read error” message -- I’ve just lost every image I took. Abandoning the gizmo, I make a left at my preferred street, right at the next one, and right on the one where I hope to leave my ride.

The STD-user is parallel parking right in front of me. I wait for enough room to edge by, then pull my own parallel parking job two spaces ahead of him. A silver something-compact separates us. I shove a back-up card into the camera and, via my side mirror, snag the man I’d been curious about: Albemarle County officer Eric Kudro. I should’ve known.

Another ACPD man approaches Mr. Kudro and they chat briefly before splitting to take care of business. I exit, gadget-in-hand, and round the Hyundai getting images. Again the card malfunctions. I give up, and move off to do my thing.

When I return, his Sonata is still in place. I sit in my car for a few minutes and fiddle with the camera and storage device. It appears that, though the earlier pics are irretrievable, it’s performing once more. However I can’t hop out for re-dos because Mr. Kudro is back.

I pull out after he glides by. It’s not easy to photograph in this particular setting and I’m not pleased with my stabs at it. I don’t have time for this. I have somewhere else to be this morning, although, even if I didn’t, I do not have the slightest inclination to go traipsing after Eric Kudro. Blah. At this point all I want is just one single flippin’ picture of THE DANG STICKER IN THE CAR WINDOW!

Lucky me, we draw a stoplight. I raise the camera, psychologically cross my fingers, and press the button. I got it. I lower the contraption and peek down to power it off. I glance up. Surprise! Mr. Kudro is waving. At me. Well, it’s not like I thought he wouldn’t see what I was up to. Our bumpers are practically French-kissing! I laugh out loud. And wave back. I keep behind him only to my necessary path, and there we part ways.

Later, I recover some, not all, of the event’s images.

____________ ♥ ____________

I have to pick something up shortly after two this afternoon. It’s too early to head to the location it’s at, too late to do much of anything important. I drum up an entertaining way to fill the time. There’s a Deputy with one of the two local Sheriff’s Departments who’s extremely fun to flirt with, so… I make use of a temporary parking space to hunt him down. I’m disappointed to find out he’s not around, but it’s nice to know he’s enjoying this sunny, beautiful day elsewhere. Good for him!

I start my car, step on the brake, peer in the rearview mirror. An Albemarle County traffic cop I recognize appears in the reflective glass -- he’s just come around the corner of a brick building, on foot.

You know how people make cop-and-doughnut jokes? Seriously, this fellow looks like he scarfs down a dozen Krispy Kremes every morning. Followed by three hours in a gym working them off. That man? Is beautiful. Yum. And I don’t usually find guys under 40 attractive.

I know where Officer Machismo’s vehicle is parked because I saw it when I was pulling in; he’s only got about 150 feet to cover to reach it. I sense, more than see, his eyes land on my car. Abruptly he spins on his heels and disappears back the way he came. Huh. That was weird. Maybe he heard one of his buddies holler at him or something. As I reverse, I mentally replay his odd move and have another thought. Jeez, I wonder if he thinks he’s the reason I’m here.

My sole exit -- proof I wasn’t cop-watching: I never would’ve left myself trapped like this under those circumstances -- puts me on the short side street, which, like many in Charlottesville, is one way. Ugh. This is so irritating! I need to go the opposite way I’m being impelled to go.

I roll by Officer Machismo’s unmarked ride. Signs at the intersection indicate I have no choice but to go right. I obey, and not just ‘cause it’s convenient. The upcoming road is also a one way, but it flows the direction I need and I turn onto it. A blue minivan in front of me has numerous bumper stickers. I read enough of them to determine the owner is probably an obnoxious White female without a husband, with two children, no gun, and a President she voted for but now contemns. Boooooring. My gaze shifts to a pedestrian who, up until that moment, has been obscured by the van.

It’s Officer Machismo. Ahck! Talk about takin’ the long way. So he was trying to avoid me! Sneaky little... I feel my lips shape to a smirk. He registers me a split-second later; I can tell as soon as it hits him because his face flashes a myriad of expressions, one of which come across as stunned, another sheepish. Darnit! Now he definitely thinks he’s the reason I’m here; it looks like I circled the block just to catch him. It’s evident the wheels are turning in his mind, too. Wait; he’s gonna do something. What’s he gonna do? His elbow bends, his arm comes up. He’s waving. I bite back a snicker. I lift my hand and wiggle my fingers in return. I burst out laughing, and in a blink he becomes nothing more than background scenery -- very-physically-fit background scenery.

I’m More Of A Horizontal Person Myself

I Believe I Need A Pet Bunny

So a reporter informed me what I allegedly did to earn myself a “Violation Of Court Order” arrest: followed JADE from “a point near” the Task Force headquarters in Charlottesville to the County of Albemarle.

Information regarding the Jefferson Area Drug Enforcement officer or possibly officers making the accusation is nowhere to be found in the public record -- no identity or identities of Law Enforcement, no time the violation supposedly occurred, no description of the JADE vehicle, no nothin’. Even the location of “point near” is absent.

You can catch the latest article by The Hook about the situation, here, and, if you’re desperate for more of my crummy writing or my unpopular opinions, I’ve got a couple of comments underneath the piece you could check out.

At the moment, when I think about being under arrest and not having to be told for what, and being deliberately prevented, along with nearly everyone else, from knowing whom my accuser is, and politico Rob Bell’s misusing me to enact a new law that exempts policemen from something each and every other citizen is subjected to, and too much of the general population’s outrage over my completely legal activities and site, all I can hear is the Bush Administration’s words “they hate us for our freedoms.” Freedoms, huh? Oh reality, where art thou?

Warm Fuzzies Go Fabulous With Warm Weather

To put my own personal touch on April Fools’ Day, I set I HeArTE JADE to private -- which, in Bloggyland, means without a cyber-invitation, readers can’t access the site.

Guess not everyone put one and one together and got me because Oh Em Gee. I received emails about it. And phone calls. I know, right? Like, people actually are interested in the quirky things I do and write about. Enough to send me emails. And call.

So what if the reason most of y’all are hooked is probably because you think I’m a psycho stalker with a penchant for policemen and you’re wishing waiting for me to end up dead, in a dumpster, rolled up in butcher block paper, as punishment? The point is: you’re hooked.

I. Love you. But not in that psycho stalker way. Unless you’re a policeman. Even then, nah, not really.

The Thin Blue... Leash?

Meh. I Just Got Arrested.

Yes, again. This time for… wait for it…

“Violation of Court Order.”

As. If.

The midday apprehension and resultant was drastically different from last year’s morning debacle. It’s remarkable how much better things go when there is no raid, and the arresting officer isn’t antagonistic and BS-ing the magistrate, and the magistrate isn’t a self-important buttbomb, and all the jailers are nice while performing their duties.

No one -- not the arresting officer, not the magistrate, not the jailers -- could inform me how I allegedly violated the Court Order, or when. Because the warrant doesn’t specify such. Which is more than absurd. Think about it: imagine you’re charged with breaking the law and when you ask what law it is you broke, the authorities say “I dunno; you’ll find out eventually.”

What. Ev. Er.

Aside from that retardedness, I also learned that somewhere along the line since their previous attempt to shut down this site, Law Enforcement added my name to their database of gang members.

Come. On.

I mean, I’ve heard of a one-man-band but a one-woman-gang? Desperate, devious, vindictive, little punks. I gotta hand it to ‘em though, it’s a good ploy to get cops I might encounter to be unreasonably aggressive towards me. I tell ya, if, after being pulled over for a burnt-out taillight or equally trivial matter, I get torn out of my car, smashed to the ground and unceremoniously ransacked because the policeman thinks I’m Los Zetas, I am so going to blog about it!

In short, I’m free (obviously) on a $2000.00 unsecured -- as in, no money required -- bond with nada unjust stipulations, under unofficial obligation to keep a certain (awesome) person off I HeArTE JADE, and have a court date in Albemarle County the middle of next month.

Eight Months Ago (Can You Believe It’s Been Eight Months?!)

(Continued from here)

Special Agent Jason Trent escorted me out of Potentate Magistrate’s office and into the next room of the correctional institution. Naturally, because of my clear distress, the roughshod man couldn’t resist gloating about his role in my sudden loss of freedom. But so overwrought was I, my mind just made Slushie out of most of what he was saying. It’s like his words went in, and my brain whirred them into an incoherency-flavored Margarita. I put up with roughly twenty seconds of his complacency.

I accused the thrasonical State Policeman of intentionally exaggerating to the magistrate, and he informed me I should be grateful to him since he could’ve made it worse. I lamented, semi-teary-eyed and more to myself than anyone else, the $7500.00 bond. Even if it had been set at $75.00 dollars, I wouldn’t be able to pay it! Mr. Trent said, for, I think, the third time that morning, I could use my car as collateral for bail. I would find out later that wouldn’t be true, and I suspect he knew that would be the case when he offered it as a solution.

As I tried to pull my thoughts, and self, together, Mr. Trent stated “I know you’re angry” to which I responded “I’m not ‘angry’. I am hurt. And confused. And I am sad. But I am not ‘angry’.” I don’t think I’ll ever forget that part because unfortunately the mixture of emotions at that moment was toxic, enough to scar my already mangled heart.

I impetuously spouted off something about a certain Jefferson Area Drug Enforcement investigator, then bit my tongue, hard, to stop myself from revealing more. The Task Force Detective may have covered most of his tracks but he hadn’t concealed them all; it wouldn’t do to tip my hand to Jason Trent in a fit of anguish and have him go squealing to the JADE member.

A short, rotund, lady with dark hair appeared. While Mr. Trent continued his attempts to provoke me -- I supposed to get me to say or do things that could be used against me in court -- she pulled on gloves and spun me around to the wall for a search. Really? Another one? What -- Smurfette’s wasn’t good enough?

I was apparently just expected to know where to place my hands and feet but since I did not, in fact, know what was required, the woman got annoyed with me. She forcefully shoved my legs apart and smacked my arms to get them where she wanted them. Do you have any idea how ridiculous it is to apologize to someone who’s doing that to you? ‘Cause that’s what I did. “I’m sorry. I… I’ve never done this before -- I’m sorry.” To be fair, I don’t think the chubby female was being abusive inasmuch as thoughtless. Among other elements, it simply doesn’t occur to these people that not everyone they encounter is an experienced gangster intimate with jailhouse procedures.

It was about then that Agent Trent suggested he and his sidekick Trooper Smurfette take off. He made some remark about how their presence was only “agitating” me. Pssh. Like you weren’t trying to rile me up?

As the pair moved to leave, Mr. Trent asked if I wanted him to give a message to someone. I told him yeah, and what it was. I ended it specifically with “Ha. Ha. Ha.” and pleaded that he include that. He shook his head and declared he could not. Well then why the hell did you offer? The guy acted like I’d requested he smear peanut butter across his double chin. “But if you don’t laugh three times, the person isn’t going to know it’s really from me.” Sardonic vocalization is something only I would do, given the situation. Please, please, please, don’t refuse me this one, small, favor. I looked forlornly at the officer lingering in the exit. His eyes froze to mine and, for an instant, I felt he understood that the wry giggles I’d articulated were an innocent communication, and how important it was they be passed along. I waited for him to give some sort of confirmation of my impression but he merely shut the door, leaving me in the custody of the Blue Ridge Regional Jail.

Focused

...Says The Officer Who DIDN’T Give His Name

From: Local Police
To: I HeArTE JADE
Date: Tue, Mar 23, 2010 at 10:38 AM
Subject: Pictures

If you wanted pics of my car, you could have just asked! No need to sneak around behind me...I would be happy to allow you to take pictures of my car for all to see. Have a safe day.

Boobs, A Blonde, And Handcuffs... Everything The Task Force Needed To Make A Porno -- Or A Snitch

Todd Lucas

It’s taken him practically forever but I believe this officer is the only one from Charlottesville who, no matter what, now recognizes me on sight. Could be because he and I have had at least a few screwy face-to-face encounters. I dunno. Whatever. He’s still fun to play with.







That last snapshot I took after the trio and I unexpectedly passed each other on the Downtown Mall. I pulled out my camera... Detective Lucas pulled out his cell phone... ‘twas concurrent identification at its most comedic.

In The Spirit Of Spring

I am cleaning out my Task Force photo album. Or maybe it’s more like I’m hauling it out. Y’see, I have all kinds of old images of Jefferson Area Drug Enforcement activities, these officers and those informants, his cars and her dealers, so on and so forth, just sitting there. On my hard drive. In folders. Going to waste waste WASTE.

Something must be done.

Sure, sure, I can’t publish any of JADE members and that one “special” VSP BCI Agent -- y’all have any idea how many pictures of Jason, aka Jay, Trent his pals have put on the Internet? Let me just say: woah. -- nevertheless nothing’s stopping me from sticking up anything or everything but.

So, HeArTE addicts, prepare for whatever. Probably with nary an accompanying explanation, too.

No guarantee passers-by will find the shots interesting, or even good -- Catherine Leroy I am not -- but I’m going to post ‘em anyway. It’ll make me laugh. And we all know that’s the ultimate goal of this site.

CPD Jeep 48-264L

Leprechauns are over-rated. Have a Ledbetter instead.

Mystery Monday

What makes a mystery good is the hope that it can be solved; a mystery that cannot be solved is no fun.

I recently got the final component I needed to unravel a Jefferson Area Drug Enforcement brainteaser I’d been processing for months. It’s for realiously excellent how one bitty piece of information can cause the rest to click.

Rather than explain the shebang in detail like I usually do, I thought this time ‘round I’d provide all the clues and, hey, let yous guys try to figure out just what it was I was tryin’ to figure out.

You’re going to have an advantage that I didn’t, though, since y’all are getting everything necessary, exactly, plus all at once, and in order, whereas in my case a spate of stuff trickled in everywhither and I had to use a relevance pole to fish solely the following out of Lake JADE. Can’t you tell by that atrocious sentence how deliriously amused I am right now?

1:
I HeArTe JADE site

2:


3:
Save McIntire Park

4:


5:
Picture of Joe Hatter and his “boys” -- as he calls them

6:
Article from the Charlottesville Fire Department

7:


Oh, one last comment! If you’re wondering how you’re s’posed to know if you came up with the right answer, uhm...

Reread the post title. ;)

Daily Progress Goofs On Sex; NBC29 Gets It Right With Neutral “Residents”

Daily Progress:

2 Charlottesville women [sic] facing drug charges

Two local women [sic] were arrested on drug charges Thursday afternoon.

Keisa Annette Bell, 33, and Leandra Isiah Henderson, 20, both of Charlottesville, are charged with possession of cocaine with the intent to distribute, according to a news release from Sgt. Joe Hatter of the Jefferson Area Drug Enforcement task force.

The arrests came after police served a search warrant at a home on Forest Street, recovering more than $1,100 in cash and 20 grams of crack with an estimated street value of about $2,000, according to the release.

The investigation is ongoing, and arrests and charges are pending, police say.

NBC29:

Charlottesville Drug Bust Nets Cocaine

Two Charlottesville residents are under arrest after they were found with $2,000 worth of cocaine.

Keisa Bell and Leandra Henderson were both charged with possession of the drug with intent to distribute.

The Jefferson Area Drug Enforcement Task Force seized the cocaine as well as more than $1,000 in the 800-block of Forest Street Thursday afternoon.

More, on I HeArTE JADE.

News At 11

March 2010

2 Arrested in JADE Drug Bust
Two people were arrested Thursday afternoon after authorities found 20 grams of crack cocaine in Charlottesville.

The Jefferson Area Drug Enforcement Task Force served a search warrant Thursday [March 11th] in the 800-block of Forest Street in Charlottesville that led to the seizure of 20 grams of crack cocaine and more than $1,100.

Authorities said the cocaine has a potential street value of approximately $2,000.00.

Keisa Annette Bell, 33, of Charlottesville and Leandra Isiah Henderson, 20, of Charlottesville were arrested and received a felony charge of possession of cocaine with the intent to distribute.

This is an ongoing investigation with additional arrest[s] and charges pending. No further information regarding this case has been released.

Source.

Pick A Pack Of Public Pictures

Images amuse me. Each on I HeArTE JADE “mouse friendly.” Click! A larger version. Click! An entirely different photograph. Or an article. Or a Facebook page. That teaser snapshot someone is dying, dying, dying, to view full size? Click! Boo-Hoo. It’s identical.

Deliberately designed, that’s. But...

Used to be I titled visual representations without a Google care in the world. Put “Brian O’Donnell” in that .jpg -- I should say not! Stick with Longhead. Then I got to playing more than ever, and watcha know? Exhibit A: Front page results.

Exhibit B: Chad Vernon.



Seek and Yee-Haw, find him!

Exhibit C: Eric Kudro.

I really oughta get a decent pic of him when he’s on duty. Guess I’ll have to wait ‘til he checks out of the Sheraton (or wherever) and gets back in the area.

Exhibit D: Trevor Ross.



Least I’m told that’s none other than the Albemarle County Police Department officer himself. As of this entry, he’s not showing in searches. Though I bet he soon will be.

Hey, you hear that? That’s the sound of a whole online albumful of previously published pictures screaming to be renamed.

CPD Ford Explorer ZKZ-7539