In its lead story in the Thursday March 8, 2001, edition of the Forsyth County News, the Georgia newspaper (Motto: Your "Hometown Paper" Since 1908), ran an article under the headline: "Drug dogs are familiar sight on school campuses." Forsyth County is a rural bedroom community in the northern suburbs of Atlanta, Georgia.
To quote the article, "Deputies are increasingly using drug-sniffing dogs in searches of lockers and cars at Forsyth County middle and high schools.
The searches are done as a cooperative effort between the county sheriff's office and school system as part of the ongoing war on drugs and in response to heightened fears about school safety. There is no specific reason deputies are appearing more this year on campuses with the dogs, said Capt. Ernie Born, commander of special operations for the sheriff's office.
"u2018We have the resources, so we might as well use them,' Born said Tuesday."
The article continues, "In some cases, deputies theorized the dogs were sniffing marijuana smoke in the (automobile) upholstery. Deputies also have walked canines by lockers at a handful of middle schools. No arrests have been made as a result of the searches.
Deputy Jody Chapman said the practice is a preventative measure, designed to keep campuses free of drugs, more than to "bust" students while they are in class.
"u2018All it takes is one student to look out a window and it goes around the school we're out there with the dogs. It scares them,' Chapman said."
No kidding, Deputy Chapman. Dogs on the leashes of armed agents of the government have a long and colorful history of scaring the crap out of people, from runaway slaves to Jews being herded into boxcars on their way to concentration camps.
This article in "Your u2018Hometown Paper' Since 1908" captures in a microcosm the rot to our institutions that is being caused by our government's ill-conceived "war on drugs."
For starters, we have the local authorities, and the school administrators who accompany them, wandering about the school campus with German Shepherds looking for evidence of criminal activity without probable cause, other than the fact that the officers "know" that some of these kids are using drugs.
Second, we have the officers promoting the theory that "the dogs were sniffing marijuana smoke in the (automobile) upholstery" of some of the cars in the parking lot. No physical evidence necessary, thank you very much.
By the officer's own admission, there is "no specific reason" for the activity that they are engaged in, they simply "have the resources, so we might as well use them." There is something morally repugnant when the police feel justified in scaring middle and high school kids with dogs because they "have the resources."
Of course, the officers in question certainly feel justified in their activity. They are theoretically preventing crimes from taking place on our public school grounds. You can hear the argument now: If you aren't guilty, you have nothing to be afraid of. When you extend this argument logically, however, it falls apart in tatters.
If the officers are justified in their actions with no evidence of a crime being committed, where does it stop? Should we start searching every car on the street or every individual's home simply because we are certain that somebody, somewhere is breaking the law, and besides, "we have the resources"?
Why not post checkpoints with a rising gate and a guard shack at all county borders where we can check the citizens' papers and let the dogs sniff for illegal contraband? After all, surely somebody on these highways is breaking the law. The job of law enforcement would be a helluva lot easier if we could just get rid of that pesky Bill of Rights.
According to an article in the July 17, 2000, issue of U.S. News and World Report, entitled "The Case of the Missing Cops", Potsdam, Ohio Police Chief Bobby Chaney proposed just that. In an effort to latch onto a share of President Clinton's COPS program funding, Chaney proposed "raising the match (locally provided matching funds required by the federal program) by launching Driving Under the Influence checkpoints, issuing speed citations, and making the village eligible for asset forfeiture funds through a K-9 unit, which would sniff out drugs on local roads. "It would have been top notch," says Chaney, insisting he was just trying to keep a lid on crime. But residents were not impressed: 80 out of 100 polled opposed fattening the force, agreeing with a Dayton Daily News headline that tagged the chief's grand scheme u2018Mad Stop.'"
According to the article, "Potsdam, Ohio, (population 250) consists of 100 houses scattered around two principal streets: Main and Cross. There are no stoplights, stores, gas stations, or restaurants. Yet from October to February, this tiny village northwest of Dayton employed 11 police officers, three full-time and eight part-time. At 1 cop for every 35 residents (the national average: 1 officer per 400 residents), Potsdam, at least in theory, was America's most tightly patrolled town."
Fortunately for the residents of Potsdam, they got a whiff of the kind of tyranny that the empire-building Chaney was proposing and decided enough was enough. The outraged citizens demanded a return of the $300,000 in federal money. The question is, how many other communities didn't, either out of ignorance of what was happening to their local constabulary, or just through apathy?
"We have the resources" becomes a vicious cycle. If the police don't "have the resources," the citizens are asked to provide them in order to prosecute the war on drugs. If they do "have the resources," the police feel compelled to use them in order to justify the expenditure. All across America we have sprouted local paramilitary organizations whose sole reason for existence is to interdict illegal drugs. Assuming for a moment (and this is a real stretch) that these interdiction efforts will eventually be successful, will these units go away, or will these organizations always be on the lookout for the next boogieman that will require their continued funding?
The corrosive effect of our "war on drugs" has corrupted our communities' relationship with our police nearly to the point of no return. "To Serve and Protect" has become "To Harass and Terrorize" in less than a generation. Random roadblocks are becoming a standard law enforcement practice, even when there is no evidence of a crime being committed. "Just need to see your insurance card, sir", or "Just checking for compliance with the seatbelt law", or whatever, all the while the German Shepherd circles your car.
Today, many police see themselves at war with the citizens in their community. Pick up a copy of a periodical like "Guns and Weapons for Law Enforcement" and you will get the gist of the situation. Do we really need every Andy Taylor in every Mayberry in America outfitted in a Kevlar helmet and BDU, toting an AR-15 and kicking in doors? Is that the kind of relationship that we want to have with our local authorities?
Well, if it isn't time is running out. Just ask the kids looking out the window at the Forsyth County sheriffs and their drug-sniffing dogs. They are getting the message loud and clear.
March 10, 2001
Jef Allen is a technology professional in Georgia. As a reformed Yankee, who has lived in the South for roughly twenty years, he has very little tolerance for Northern sanctimony, or the erosion of individual liberty.
