I was done—finito—absolutely resolute in not talking politics anymore. I’d lobbied the voting rights groups, who knew the Help America Vote Act was going to create a voting machine lobby, then the Anti-War groups, then the conspiracy groups, then the Tea-Party groups, then the Occupy groups, and then the convention at Harvard, all to no avail.
Things looked ruined for me at that point, with ten years of activism, trying to transform the status quo, and the entertainment and art industry being apart of that—I was definitely odd man out. Hopefully my political past would be forgotten with the chance to slide into theatre or film—film the long shot. I’d taken studio meetings in my twenties, but no credits to my name. One hit play though—one world premier and run—and suddenly all kinds of opportunities could appear. I’d published poetry and prose in university presses and on-line, but had to get a play produced, a drama that said things about life worth hearing, validated by people wanting to produce and act it. And maybe, somehow, I’d end up seeing my muse, the actress, again. That was all that mattered now, but then that track got blown up with the political science.
I was in a coffee shop getting notes for a play together, when I see an email. I read that a county sheriff up north had notified neighboring sheriffs, detailing how federal agents had entered their county and set up operations without contacting their office. The disregard was unprecedented and unconstitutional, he said. He got replies from neighboring sheriffs sharing the same experiences and concerns, and called a meeting—anyone who thought they had a solution was welcome to attend. I drop everything, print copies from congressional records, put a pillow and blanket in the back of my wagon, and get on the road north.
Driving up it seemed like this might finally be it. As if—but of course—it’s the office of the county sheriff that initiates the convention! If I get them to create a video, that the legal requirement for a convention has been met, that ought be the tipping-point of awareness to result in the call.
Sheriffs came into existence in 9th century England, which makes them the oldest continuing, non-military law enforcement entity in history. Back then land was divided into geographic areas called shires. Within each was an individual called a reeve, selected by the serfs to represent them. Monarchs observed their influence amongst subjects and naturally folded them into their governing powers. The reeve became the appointed representative to act as mediator in a particular shire. Through time shire and reeve became shire-reeve—guardian of the shire—and eventually, sheriff.
Depending on the moods of monarchs, the responsibilities of the sheriff ebbed and flowed until 1215 when the Magna Carta was signed, containing sixty-three clauses, twenty-seven of which were related to the responsibilities of the sheriff.
With the advent of colonialism the concept of sheriff carried to the American Colonies. The first sheriff in America was appointed 1634 for the Shire of Northampton in the colony of Virginia. The duties of the early American sheriff centered on court related duties alongside protection of citizens. In 1776 states began adopting the Office of Sheriff into their constitutions, and from then on state-by-state, the democratic election of sheriff became a constitutional requirement. Today in the United States, its 3083 county sheriffs are an office apart from other law enforcement agencies due to its direct accountability to the people through election. The office is not a department of county government, but independent, exercising the powers of the people in interests of the public trust.
I got to the venue where a dozen or so sheriffs showed up, a small banquet room near the border of Oregon. The sheriff who put out the call was a Vietnam Vet, known and respected far and wide for his development of SWAT systems and tactics. He looked the stereotypical general—full head of short gray hair combed back, gray mustache, square jaw, direct razor-sharp eyes. He welcomes everyone and thanks them for showing up.
“Most here know that almost a decade ago, Sheriff Mack filed suit in federal court about an unconstitutional gun law, and they won. The Supreme Court struck down the notion that sheriffs are subordinate to federal agents. The ruling explained how our system of government was a great innovation where citizens have two political capacities, one state and one federal, each protected from the other, each with its own set of rights and obligations. Local authority is distinct and independent from federal authority, no more subject to it than federal authority is subject to local authority. The reason we call a chief justice a chief justice, is to designate the highest rank within the judicial branch. In law enforcement we call it the CLEO—chief law enforcement officer—and in the county elected, the sheriff is that. We’re directly accountable to the people. If a local police force begins harassing people in a county, we’re there to protect them. If a federal agency begins harassing people in a county, we’re there to protect and defend their rights. Since the Supreme Court ruling, we have to remind not only the public, but the federal agencies themselves of this fact.
“Everyone knows that two years ago the sheriff from Bighorn County, Wyoming, lead the state sheriffs in a lawsuit demanding federal agents abide by the Constitution or face arrest, and the District Court agreed and ruled in their favor—that the duly elected sheriff is chief law enforcement official with powers exceeding any other local, state, or federal official, including the President of the United States. Since that legal action, all federal agents entering that county have been required to check in with the sheriff and state their intentions. And then last year we had the incident in Otero County, New Mexico, where the sheriff had to threaten federal agents with arrest. So what it looks like, is that federal agencies will attempt to get away with whatever they can, hoping the sheriff they’re dealing with doesn’t understand their powers.
“Some months ago, two of our deputies were tipped-off by a resident that federal agents had blocked off a county road. Two deputies went to the location and contacted them, and two agents came up holding badges. Our lead deputy checked ID but said their office had not been notified, which made the road block illegal. One agent got an attitude, saying our deputies had no idea who or what they were dealing with, to which they informed the agents that in a county, the authority of the sheriffs office was higher. The moment escalated almost to the point of drawing guns. Luckily our lead deputy talked fast and neutralized the situation.” He paused a good long pause, “That incident had me enter into some research. The public lands out here—out west—were considered problem lands until the passage of the Resolutions Act, where from there the federal government held such lands in public trust. Upon a state being admitted to the Union, the federal government had the obligation to dispose of lands for expansion, occupancy, and production by the people.
“Over the years, some public lands still held in trust became more desirable to retain and federal agencies worked their way into taking an expanding role. Back in the days of the Viet Nam War, we called that mission creep. County reserves are not federal enclaves. Forest Service rangers are not law enforcement officers unless designated by the state, as the Tenth Amendment reserves police rights to the states; and as chief law enforcement of the county, elected and saddled with expectation and responsibility to safeguard rights of the people, I fully intend to uphold the law against threats and actions against them. Illegal road closures, the grazing, logging, and minerals issues, occupying land under the false auspice—these complaints against federal agents alongside other socio-economic issues are causing me great concern about our relationship to federal agencies and future cooperation.”
He sat down, other sheriffs spoke in turn, all expressing the same. When finished, they opened to questions/comments from the audience. There were about thirty people there and ten who wanted to vent frustrations and ask how to help. I waited until everyone had spoken and began to explain how everything is connected, and what the sheriffs were concerned about was due to the fact the people were being denied a federal convention.
“A federal convention—you mean a constitutional convention?!” shouts one of the sheriffs. “That’s the last thing we want!”
“We want to obey the Constitution—not write a new one!” joins another.
“The letter sent out said you were open to ideas.”
“Are you currently working in law enforcement?” the lead sheriff asked.
“No sir, but as an employed educator for the state, I did sign an oath to protect and defend the Constitution, which is what you profess—to honor the oath—to protect and defend the law.”
“Right now we have a federal government that doesn’t obey the Constitution,” replies a sheriff.
“Congress dictates the attitude of the agencies, in your case actions of the Forest Service are a symptom, not the problem. I brought some literature for you gentlemen,” I said holding up copies.
“Others here have brought information too, so let’s make the back table the drop off and I will personally go through all of it,” the lead sheriff replied.
They closed the meeting with prayer, I put the copies on the desk and milled about hoping at least one of the sheriffs would engage. A bunch of people were getting at them, and none came over to go in depth about what I said. I waited, the lead sheriff was the last one there amongst a last half dozen attendees. He looked at me.
“You got your literature on the table and contact info?”
“Yes sir.”
Driving home I was bummed they didn’t say what I had daydreamed them saying, that hot damn, you’re right, the work you and your group have done is nothing short of revolutionary.
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