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It’s impossible to miss her big smile and bright blonde hair bouncing through the football facility. If you know anything about Arizona football, then you know who Coach Rich Rodriguez is. But if you know the ins and outs of the team, you know “Miss Rita” Rodriguez.
Rita grew up playing sports and has loved football for as long as she can remember. She attended Fairmont State College for three years and then met Rich. She transferred to West Virginia University, where she cheered and he played football, and they’ve been a team ever since.
Throughout Rich’s career, Rita has been his never-ending encouragement. When he was coaching at Glenville, W.Va., State College the budget was small and they relied on volunteer help. Rita did her share. The fi eld didn’t have an emblem on it and she wanted to fi x it.
“So then I went out and got spray paint and put a big block ‘G’ on the fi eld. And I decided to video the games so that that the players would have a video at the end of the year. For me it was all about making it fun to be where we were,” she said.
And one of the best ways Miss Rita makes football season fun is her nacho dip. Each week, two days before the game, she picks two players who have earned the coveted reward. She said there is so much going on in the
players’ lives and that they handle adversity so well.
“Superstars always get noticed, and they deserve it. But I wanted everyone to get noticed, not just for football.”
So each week, she cooks up her mix of ground sausage and cheese and recognizes two players who deserve the dip.
This tradition began years back when she watched a WVU player put
his hand on Rich’s shoulder to comfort him after a tough loss. The moment touched her.
“It was so sweet that he cared about Rich and that meant the world to me. I want them to see that I care about them,” she said. “What people don’t know is that they [the players] make our life better. They’re such joys to
LOCAL EDITION
FRIDAY, MAY 8, 2015VOL. CXXVX NO.V
50 CENTS NO TOMBSTONE IS COMPLETE WITHOUT ITS EPITAPH
132 YEARS IN THE TOWN TOO TOUGH TO DIE
Whiskey goes to high school
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Should Old West be put to rest?
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Millions of dollars in military- grade armaments fl ow into Arizona communities with minimal standards for training or oversight on how the equipment is being used.
An Arizona Sonora News investigation shows towns stocked with mine resistant vehicles, grenade launchers, assault rifl es and tear gas — all the discards of war.
Proponents of the federal program that offers up the armaments say it saves money for cities. Opponents paint a darker picture: heavily armed law enforcement with what opponents call inadequate oversight and standards for handling cache of weapons.
To them, this military hardware welfare system marks a disconcerting move toward militarization among police departments with an increasing “us vs. them” attitude where suspects can become the enemy.
They offer recent events as evidence of police overreaction: the death of Michael Brown in Ferguson, the death of Eric Gardner in New York City, the suspect shot in the back while fl eeing police in South Carolina, and Freddie Gray, who died from a spinal injury while in police custody in Baltimore.
The 1033 ProgramThe Payson Police Department is in
the middle of the Tonto National Forest. It sits one hour north of Phoenix and shares a complex with the town hall and water department—a fortress in a town barricaded by mountains.
It’s a small police department in a small town where Andy Griffi th would feel at home, but it has a big job.
It runs Arizona’s division of the 1033 program.
The program, established by Congress in 1997 as the National Defense Authorization Act, distributes excess military equipment to police agencies throughout the nation.
The approval and review of all applicants to the program, the allocation of equipment, training to any agencies that wish to have it and regular audits of departments all are handled by two people in Payson, detective Matt Van Camp and a unpaid volunteer named Maria Davis.
Payson pays Van Camp’s salary, and the town cannot afford the four additional hires he believes are needed to run the program effi ciently.
Payson became the state coordinator in 2008 when the Maricopa County Sheriff’s Department opted out. State offi cials begin recruiting another.
“They went to the highway patrol, they went to Phoenix PD, they went to all the large agencies, they went to the Arizona Department of Administration, they went to the Arizona Emergency Management division,” Van Camp said. “They went to all these agencies and none of them would accept to be the state coordinators offi ce.”
So the state decided to cancel the program. Every department would have to give back their 1033 equipment.
“Which, for my agency was bad,” Van Camp said. “We have equipment that we use for crime scenes, there’s just too much benefi t to our agency.”
So Van Camp, with the approval of his department, raised his hand. He met with the old state coordinator who told him it would only be about two to three hours a week of extra time.
He was wrong.“It’s been
extremely more of a burden,” Van Camp said. “My salary, any other ancillary travel, we go off and do audits of agencies on a regular basis, so we’re travelling, we’re spending money, so we have no fi nancial backing except for from Payson police d e p a r t m e n t budget.”
As of April 23, the 1033 program has $46,703,792 worth of military e q u i p m e n t spread between 80 programs in the state. Since its inception the program has distributed $5.4 billion worth of military equipment nationally. In 2014, the program distributed $980 million.
Some of that equipment is small stuff. It’s desks, chairs, sleeping bags and fi rst
Military handouts arm AZ policeBy Dan DesrochersThe Tombstone Epitaph
Graphic by Nicole Thill / The Tombstone Epitaph
Two Southern Arizonan nonprofi t organizations, Native Seeds/SEARCH and Tohono O’odham Community Action, are working to promote wild food sources and desert tolerant crops in the region.
Before Arizona became known for its cotton and citrus, before farmers moved west to tame the land, before Spanish explorers fi rst set their eyes on the Grand Canyon, the Tohono O’odham were cultivating the land and using the Southwest’s natural food sources to survive.
For hundreds of years, their diet consisted of wild foods straight from the Sonoran Desert like mesquite bean pods, cholla buds, and prickly pear fruit. The Tohono O’odham were also adept farmers, growing enough desert-hardy crops, like tepary beans and 60-day corn, that they were completely food self-suffi cient up until the mid-20th century.
International turmoil and government programs in the mid-1900s pulled many Native Americans away from their homes and introduced processed foods to the reservations, which in turn led to the near complete disappearance of their traditional food sources.
The loss of their native foods also resulted in a startling rise of obesity, and consequently diabetes, amongst Native American tribes, including the Tohono O’odham.
According to the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services, American Indian adults are twice as likely to be diagnosed with Type 2 diabetes when compared to non-Hispanic whites.
However, the real victims are young Native Americans, specifi cally those between the ages of 10 and 19, who are nine times more likely to be diagnosed with the disease. From just 1990 to 2009, diabetes diagnosis’s rose 110 percent for that age group.
Recognizing the need for a positive community program in the Tohono O’odham Reservation that promoted a healthy and culturally rich lifestyle, Terrol Dew Johnson founded Tohono O’odham Community Action, or TOCA, in 1992.
“Our whole intent was to have some kind of structured, positive
By Gareth FarrellThe Tombstone Epitaph
‘Miss Rita’: mother for Arizona football
Katie Bickell / The Tombstone Epitaph‘Miss Rita’ with daughter Raquel Rodriguez. She has become the team’s mom away from home.
By Katie BickellThe Tombstone Epitaph
Non-profi ts sowing seeds for local plants
On Earth Day in 2014, the small town of Bisbee passed an ordinance that put Arizona on the map for environmental consciousness.
Bisbee- population 5,360- decided to ban single-use plastic bags in all retail stores throughout the city, requiring residents to use multi-use bags for all shopping needs.
“Environmentally speaking, we have been able to notice a huge difference in just the last year,” said Bisbee City Manager, Jestin
Johnson.According to Johnson, there has
been a dramatic decrease in the number of loose plastic bags around Bisbee.
“After only 45 days of the ban being in place, I noticed there were no bags on or near the highway,” said Andy Haratyk, Bisbee’s Public Works Operations Manager. “The impact happened so quickly.”
According to Haratyk, litter patrol has noticed that, 90 percent of plastic bags seen in or around the city are businesses outside of Bisbee where the ordinance does not apply.
The plastic bags are marked with advertising labels from stores such as Target and Walmart.
There are certain retailers that still offer recycled paper bags to customers at a charge of fi ve-cents per bag. Out of the fi ve-cents, two-cents goes back to the retailer to pay for administrative time and cost of the bags, while the remaining three-cents goes to the City of Bisbee Environmental Fund.
Other cities throughout Arizona, including Tempe and Flagstaff, had been looking into creating their own plastic bag ordinances similar to the
ordinance in Bisbee.However, efforts have been put on
hold. On April 14, the Senate passed SB1241, making it illegal for cities to ban the use of plastic bags. Cities that were on the brink of passing their new ordinances are considering taking legal action against the state.
Bisbee was given 60 days from the signing date before the plastic bag ban is lifted.
“We are in the middle of a David and Goliath story,” Haratyk said. “These small cities are too tough to be pushed around by state law.”
Despite the new law, it is believed
that retailers may continue business without single-use plastic bags whether the ordinance is in place or not.
“I’m all for the bag ban,” said Grant Sergot, owner of Optimo Custom Panama Hatworks. “Before Bisbee used to look almost like Tibet with prayer fl ags everywhere in the hills, it was awful.”
Sergot has been a resident of Bisbee since 1974. He explained how the ban has been a “learning process.” For most residents, it was
Residents say Bisbee plastic bag ban here to stayBy Kia Gardner The Tombstone Epitaph
Miss Rita, Page 2 Seeds, Page 2
Plastic, Page 2
Handouts, Page 3
program for youth and the community,” says Johnson. “I just wanted to have some sort organization that everybody could be a part of, regardless of age.”
Employing the community’s elders as teachers, TOCA began teaching anyone who was interested about the traditional O’odham food system, which includes wild plant harvesting and dry-land farming.
Initially, TOCA was more of an after school or summer program for students on the reservation. The community elders would take children out to the desert where they would teach them how to harvest wild plants, like saguaro cactus fruit and the aforementioned cholla buds.
Over the years however, Johnson’s nonprofi t has rapidly grown in both popularity and size. TOCA is now a multi-faceted operation that includes the Desert Rain Café, a restaurant that specializes in native foods, Native Foodways Magazine, a magazine highlighting aspects of Native American cuisine, and various comprehensive community initiatives that seek to reclaim their Nation’s food sovereignty.
“Food sovereignty is our buzz word right now,” says Johnson. “Our goal now is to make this tribe more self-suffi cient with their food.”
These initiatives include their “New Generation of O’odham Farmers” program, introduced in 2009, that provides young adults with the training and skills necessary to pursue a career in sustainable agriculture.
TOCA also works with teachers and students on the reservations to develop and maintain school gardens.
The gardens are meant to help the children develop a work ethic and an appreciation for healthy food, says Johnson, but he is also trying to make the food they grow part of the school lunch program.
TOCA isn’t alone in its quest to revitalize historic crops that thrive in this arid climate.
Native Seeds/SEARCH, a seed conservation nonprofi t based in Tucson, has almost 2,000 varieties adapted to dry weather, many of which came from Southwest tribes like the Tohono O’odham.
“We’re trying to take seeds that have been gathered over the years, many of which were used for centuries but are in danger of being lost, and grow them to increase their supply,” says Larrie Warren, the executive director.
On the nonprofi t’s 60-acre-farm near Patagonia, a rotating variety of plants are grown that they harvest to increase their supply of certain seeds. Some of these harvested seeds make it back to the refrigerators and freezers at their headquarters that they use to preserve much of the organization’s stock, but many of them are handed out through
their free seed grant program.Most of those distributed make
their way to schools or to communities struggling with food security issues, says Warren.
While some may question why food-insecure communities would seek out rarer, less established crops as a potential food source, there are notable benefi ts to what Native Seeds/SEARCH provides.
“We try to promote diversity,” says Warren. “If you’re growing one crop in an area, you’re going to begin having pest problems, pollination issues and
other complications.”By growing and distributing these
little known and used seeds, the organization is helping develop crop diversity and improve agricultural sustainability.
Both diversity and sustainability are important to an industry that is increasingly dominated by a standardized selection of crops, which are grown in environments molded and adapted to them instead of vice-versa.
Native Seeds/SEARCH has roughly 500 varieties of corn, nearly 200 types of beans, and 1,300 other types of seeds stored in their facilities, many of which are available to the public.
All of these seeds, and those used by TOCA and the Tohono O’odham, come from desert-adapted plants that thrive with minimal water. The same cannot be said for the much of the crops that make up Arizona’s, and California’s, agricultural industries.
“Our core mission is to preserve these seeds for a sustainable future,” says Warren. “Now we’re trying to broaden that out and educate the community so more people understand the health and environmental benefi ts of these seeds.”
Native Seeds/SEARCH offers classes and training to students, teachers, Spanish-speakers, and backyard gardeners through its website. They also have a store on Campbell Avenue in Tucson just south of East Fort Lowell Road where they sell a selection of seeds not available anywhere else.
Gareth Farrell is a reporter for Arizona Sonora News, a service from
the School of Journalism with the University of Arizona. Contact him at [email protected].
May 8, 20152
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a matter of adjusting to the new law.“Once we understand the
ramifi cations of what were are doing, everything became a lot easier,” Sergot said.
“Bisbee is taking the lead towards environmental stewardship,” Johnson said. “We are already acclimated to this environmental awareness.”
Johnson recalls how other cities have reached out to the town of Bisbee in an effort to replicate the city’s ordinance.
Plastic bag bans very similar to Bisbee’s have been occurring in states all across the U.S. At the forefront is California, featuring over 100 cities with a plastic bag ban or reusable bag ordinance in place. A handful of other states including Alaska, Oregon and Washington also have ordinances.
“We need to start looking at this issue and thinking about it in a more critical way,” Sergot said. “These bans are just the fi rst steps.”
Kianna Gardner is a reporter for Arizona Sonora News, a service
from the School of Journalism with the University of Arizona. Contact
her at [email protected]
work with. And when you see the players grow, change, and become successful, it’s so rewarding to us.”
With tears in her eyes she explains that she wants to give out an award so they know that playing football isn’t the only thing that’s important.
“We want them to be good people, we want them to be successful, and I just wanted them to know as a mother that little acts that they do and hard work they’re doing, not just in football, but in any aspect of their life, we notice.”
And it’s easy to see that she does take on the role as the team mother. She makes an effort to let the players know that she is there whenever they may need her. They call her ‘Miss Rita’.
Arizona quarterback Anu Solomon says that Miss Rita’s love for sports and the team shows every day.
“Just in case your mom can’t
make it, she’s always that mom right there to support you and encourage you to do your best.”
He swears by her nachos.“Before every game she’s right
there with me on the sidelines and I’ll give her a hug saying ‘if I mess this up I’m sorry’ and just joke around with her,” Anu said. “At the end of every game that we lost, she was always there encouraging me. Even though I felt that I didn’t do as well as I expected, she was always there being positive.”
She says it’s important to have the mother role represented within the world of football. She is never afraid to give her opinion to Rich about something, whether he wants to hear it or not.
“That’s my responsibility to chime in on anything he’s doing, just to give him another ear. To me, I give him another way to look at a situation. It can do two things. It can either really change his mind because he wants to do it a different way, or it reconfi rms what he’s doing
in the fi rst place and that makes him feel better about it.”
Communication is a big part of their success both on and off the fi eld. She says that the football lifestyle is easy for them because they both love football and love changing people’s lives.
“I think what makes it work is that we believe in what we’re doing. When you believe in what you’re doing and you love what you’re doing, it’s easy,” she said. “If you can fi nd what makes you excited and what you’re passionate about and you believe in yourself, it’s amazing what you can do.”
Kylan Butler, a former player under Rich Rodriguez and a current offensive graduate assistant, says she has been a huge benefi t for him and his family.
“That’s one thing that I have learned from her and the coaching staff here is that you have to keep your family involved because you spend so many hours away from them,” he said.
She cherishes game days because she can immerse herself in football. Since Arizona typically has night games, she wakes up and starts watching other games. She likes to tune in and see how the teams Arizona plays are doing and then heads down to the stadium a few hours early with Coach Rich Rod.
“On home games I’ll ride the team bus over with Rich because I like to see the players and that they’re focused. I like to let them know again that I’m there,” she said.
She tells her husband good luck, heads down to the fi eld before the game, and then up to her seat to get ready, fi lled with nerves.
“When we’re playing a really good team I feel less stress. It’s an opportunity to beat someone really good, and that’s exciting. But when you’re playing a team that you should beat, that’s harder because you know you have to win that game. I feel way more pressure for the games that you need to win, that you can’t afford to lose.”
She is eager for the upcoming season.
“We’re excited to see if we can get better. That’s what you want every year is to just continue to get better,” she said. “You just want everybody to be successful.”
And when asked what is the most important thing they’ve gained from being here at Arizona, she made it simple.
“A second chance. Arizona gave us another chance for Rich to prove what a great coach he is and for the opportunity to affect people’s lives and an opportunity to enjoy the sport that we love. We love Arizona and we love the fact that they gave us a chance to continue doing what we love.”
Katie Bickell is a reporter for Arizona Sonora News, a service
from the School of Journalism at the University of Arizona.
Contact her at [email protected].
Courtesy of TOCA A young helper gathers cactus pods as part of the project to collect seeds from native plants.
HISTORYPage 4
PLASTICPage 1
SEEDSPage 1
MISS RITAPage 1
Kaleigh Schufeldt / The Tombstone Epitaph A stagecoach takes Tombstone visitors on a tour down Allen Street. Other Western towns have found renewed interest with the addition of gambling.
oversees the running of the town, Barrett said. But that is not the case. Tombstone is actually a “living town.”
“I had someone call and ask what time the gates open and how much it costs to park,” said Debbie Ramsey, the Chamber of Commerce’s administrative assistant.
Dressing in period style isn’t required, though most merchants seem to be doing that anyway. “We like people to do it, but we can’t make them,” Barrett said.
“You can’t go to Disneyland dressed up as Mickey Mouse and take pictures with people,” Barrett said. But in Tombstone, “if you dress up, you can be part of the show.”
In other Old West-centric towns, like Dodge City, Kansas, and Deadwood, South Dakota, history also lives on – funded by the towns’ major tourist draw, casinos.
“When we enacted gaming in 1989, it was huge to us,” said Amanda Kille, the marketing coordinator for Deadwood’s Chamber of Commerce. “We were inundated with tourists immediately.”
Dodge City tourism picked up with the opening of the Boot Hill Casino and Resort, said Jan Stevens, director of Dodge City Convention and Visitors Bureau.
According to Kille, Deadwood was dying before gaming came into town. In fact, funds from the gaming industry are used for historic preservation.
History is “one of the main things people keep coming back for,” Kille said. In both towns, visitors may come for the gambling, but they stay for the history.
“We have fashioned most everything around the history that was from back in the 1870s,” Stevens said. In recent years, Dodge City has refurbished
historic buildings and worked to preserve the landmarks.
Deadwood “is a casino town that hasn’t forgotten why it has gaming: to save itself and preserve history for generations,” Kille said.
Unlike Deadwood and Dodge City, there is a noticeable lack of casinos around Tombstone.
Casinos are only legal on reservations in Arizona. Back in the day, Tombstone had local options
for gambling, but visitors would rather be outside touring the town anyways, Barrett said.
People love walking through the same place as
historic fi gures, Barrett said. “You can stand where they stood and walk where they fell.”
As the re-enactors from the O.K. Corral step out in a line to announce the noon gunfi ght, a man steps up, indicating that he would like to take a picture.
Kaleigh Shufeldt and Gabby Ferreira are reporters for Arizona Sonora News, a service
from the School of Journalism with the University of Arizona. Contact Kaleigh at kshufeldt@email.
arizona.edu and Gabby at [email protected]
aid kits. Useful supplies for departments like Pinetop-Lakeside when they have to travel to fight fires and all the hotels are booked.
According to Dan Barnes, the support services commander for Pinetop-Lakeside Police Department, if they weren’t able to get those items through 1033, the officers would have to buy their own.
The program designates its equipment by two codes, commercial and controlled. The commercial products are the smaller, everyday supplies like desks and first aid kits. The controlled products are the expensive equipment, like guns and MRAPs. The departments have to track controlled items until they’ve run them to the ground. Then they have to send them back to the military.
For a police department to get a rifle, helicopter or armored vehicle, officials must go through a number of bureaucratic procedures.
“There’s memos they have to write me, justification letters, why they feel they can use it, how can it benefit their community,” Van Camp said.
From there, the request must be approved by the Department of Defense.
Agencies must keep an inventory. Van Camp and Davis audit departments every year to ensure that they have the weapons and equipment that have been given to them. The federal government audits the Arizona 1033 program every two years.
“Number one priority is accountability of property,” Van Camp said.
When agencies fail to keep track of their inventory, like Maricopa County Sheriff’s Department did in 2014, they get kicked out.
Police departments see the 1033 program as if they are shopping in the military’s closet, saving money for taxpayers and equipping their departments in the meantime.
“At the end of the day it’s something that allows our agency and our residents to save money on items that have already been purchased,” said Clinton Norred, a Yuma Police Department spokesman.
Normally, if a police department wants an armored vehicle they have to get a civilian made BearCat, which can cost up to $300,000, or the larger B.E.A.R. Often, the departments will rely on donations or federal grants.
“Grants are very competitive, dollars have been a little bit tougher to come by,” Norred said.
But opponents of the 1033 program see the challenge of obtaining money to get an armored vehicle as a good thing.
“It forces them to kind of think through how to use these weapons,” said Alessandra Soler the executive director of the American Civil Liberties Union of Arizona.
The MilitarizationPete Kraska, an established expert on the
militarization of police forces in the United States, is the chair of graduate studies and research in the School of Justice Studies at Eastern Kentucky University. He is a vocal opponent of the 1033 program.
Calling it a militarization of police forces, opponents like Kraska point to the access to military grade equipment as a breeding ground for aggressive policing.
“It sort of incentivizes unnecessary and aggressive police,” said Soler.
In particular, opponents point to equipment like an MRAP, mine resistant vehicles that were used in Iraq and Afghanistan by the military, as excessive for police departments.
There are no guns on an MRAP, it’s strictly a defensive vehicle, but it contributes to a military mindset, critics say.
“When I ask these agencies what is your operational justification for this, all we get are ‘what if ‘ scenarios,” Kraska said. “And in the community that they’re in, they probably can’t
even come up with an example in the past 50 years, of one of those examples.”
For Lt. Johnny John, who is in charge of the SWAT team for Tempe Police, those ‘what if’ situations are very real. He was the one who made a push to get an MRAP, which is valued from $658,000 to $733,000, to replace their old, donated armored coin truck that kept breaking down.
“It’s just better safe than sorry,” John said.Some of those ‘what if’ scenarios have been
seen by departments in the state. The Tempe Police Department used their MRAP once, in pursuit of a suspect who was shooting at people in South Phoenix. After they thought they had the man trapped in the attic of a house, they brought out the MRAP to give officers protected access.
“We were able to park the vehicle next to the house to be able to pry the attic vent open,” said Mike Pooley, the public information officer for the Tempe Police Department. “When we pried that open, our officers were surrounded by ballistic protection. They were able to get in there, look, make sure, clear it out with mirrors and other things we had to get a good vantage point if somebody was in there.”
The suspect had gotten away, but that doesn’t minimize the utility of the MRAP, according to Pooley.
“We look for any advantage over a suspect that we can,” Pooley said. “We have a lot of technology that we can use and this is one piece of equipment that we feel will definitely protect our officers, will protect our citizens.”
One of those advantages is the intimidation factor that comes with an MRAP. But, when it comes to dealing with the public, that intimidation factor can backfire.
The Tempe Police Department recognizes that possessing an MRAP is controversial. When they first got theirs, they put around $50,000 into changes.
They removed the outermost shell of armor, which took off about 10,000 pounds. They then painted the vehicle black, added decals and police lights, installed cameras on the front and back and gutted the inside so that it can fit up to 30 people.
The Yuma Police Department didn’t remove the outer
shell of armor from theirs, but they did add police lights and decals so that the public could recognize it as a police vehicle.
Tempe generally doesn’t bring its MRAP to public events, but they still try to be transparent about their armor.
Most of the time, however, Tempe’s MRAP sits in a garage next to a DUI van.
“We don’t just take it out to go and stop people,” Pooley said. “We use it for tactical situations, where there’s life and death situations, where the last resort is something that we have in our garage.”
Opponents like Kraska understand that military-grade weapons and equipment are rarely used.
“But it absolutely has a clear, cultural impact on these departments,” He added. “Where they’re thinking of themselves and behaving in a way that is much more militaristic and much less democratic.”
In Payson, Van Camp rejects the argument that police forces are being militarized.
“The militarization is just a word that people are using,” Van Camp said. “There is no militarization from this program.”
Kraska sees militarization as not as much equipment gathered, but by the attitude of those who would use such goods.
“If they want to get a microwave oven who cares? If they want to get a refrigerator, who cares?” said Kraska. “But an MRAP is inappropriate, military weaponry is inappropriate. It would not be hard to delineate what’s appropriate and what’s not appropriate.”
The Military AttitudeKraska has been studying the militarization
of police departments since 1989.“Overall this police militarization trend
started in the late 1980s,” Kraska said. “It kept marching forward all the way until 9/11 and then of course escalated after 9/11 and nobody has cared.”
With the recent riots in Ferguson and now in Baltimore, politicians are beginning to take notice. In response, the U.S. Department of Justice advises that all police officers wear body cameras and called for a review of police tactics and training, in hopes of reducing excessive force lawsuits.
In recent years, cities nationwide have had to pay out in the hundreds of millions of dollars to settle such lawsuits.
In Tucson, in 2011, Pima County SWAT officers killed a U.S. Marine veteran named Jose Guerena during an overnight drug raid. The officers fired 71 rounds, striking Guerena 22 times.
Pima County, along with Sahuarita, Marana and Oro Valley, settled with Guerena’s widow for $3.4 million.
“The bigger picture problem here is that a lot of these weapons are billed as tools that are going to enhance public safety and in the end they end up doing the opposite,” said Soler.
Training for equipment received through the 1033 program is largely up to the department with little oversight from the Department of Defense. While Van Camp said that there will be a meeting with all of the 1033 state coordinators to discuss a nationalized training standard, right now the training officers have to get in Arizona is different than what officers in California could get with the same equipment.
While the officers get training on the equipment that they need, that doesn’t mean that they get enough training on how to deal with the public.
For Laurence Miller, a psychologist who works closely with law enforcement officers, an aspect of the lack of community policing comes from a lack of training in communication.
“You act the way you’re trained,” Miller said. “If someone is trained adequately to deal with a wide variety of situations, not just tactically, not just in terms of when to use your baton and when to use your pepper spray and when to use your Taser, but also in terms of communication skills training. The more training officers receive, the better they’re able to deal with a wide variety of situations.”
Miller teaches classes to police officers and tries to emphasize the importance of talking to the community. He calls police officers street psychologists.
“Ninety percent of what a police officer does out there on patrol is talking to people,” Miller said. “It’s all about talking.”
Soler sees the lack of communications training in anecdotal evidence at the ACLU.
“The reality is that they’re using these weapons in poor communities and communities of color are the ones being victimized by these kinds of weapons,” Soler said.
Both Kraska and Soler pointed out that access
to this military grade equipment has led to an increase in SWAT style raids across the country.
“You’re using these weapons to engage in these really aggressive policing tactics including these SWAT style raids for a lot of times minor drug offenses,” Soler said.
Lack of oversightVan Camp keeps track of the inventory from
the 1033 program, but there’s no oversight as to how the police use the weapons and equipment they obtain.
If a civilian calls in with a complaint, he checks it out, but as long as the department is following the rules of the 1033 program, there’s nothing he can do.
“I’m relying on the integrity of that police agency and the person managing the program at that agency to have integrity, morals and ethics,” Van Camp said.
Relying on integrity isn’t enough for Kraska. “They get to completely on their own,
mire in their own warrior fantasies, their own perceptions of what it means to be a militarized police department and conduct themselves however they want until some horrible disaster happens and they get sued,” Kraska said. “This happens all over the country.”
Departments like Tempe acknowledge that sometimes department’s misuse and abuse their equipment, whether or not it comes from the 1033 program.
“History will show you that there’s always been abuses of equipment like this, or times when equipment is not used appropriately,” Pooley said.
Van Camp works as a strategist when it comes to placing MRAPs in the state. He looks at the regions that could potentially need armor when requests for an MRAP come in.
“We look at a broader size of allocations where we can get armor,” Van Camp said. “I’d like to have another piece of armor up in Northeast Arizona, but I just don’t have that. I don’t have an agency up there that would get it.
Van Camp said that he aims to have it so that an MRAP is within a two-hour drive of every part of the state, but nine out of the 13 are in the middle of the state, with four in the greater Phoenix area.
Van Camp sees the military equipment as an invaluable way to protect officers and citizens.
“I think there’s a balance that has to be made of protection of citizens,” he said. “I think the citizens want us to protect them from gunfire.”
With that responsibility to keep people safe, police departments also have a responsibility to be accountable to the citizens in their community.
“The police have an extraordinary amount of power,” Soler said. “They can arrest you, they can detain you, they can shoot you, they can kill you and with that power comes the need for accountability and transparency and more often than not, these departments are not transparent.”
Dan Desrochers is a reporter for Arizona Sonora News. He can be reached at
May 8, 2015 3
HANDOUTSPage 1
Read more at: arizonasonoranewsservice.com
• Bisbee heavily armed• One-third of departments ignore public records law•Interactive map of weapons cache for 99 police agenies across Arizona
• How the project was reported
Jeff Wick / The Daily WildcatTucson police line up in riot gear after the Arizona Wildcat’s loss in last year’s Elite Eight. Tucson Police Department is a member of the 1033 program, which distributes excess military equipment to departments in the state.
Dan Desrochers / The Tombstone EpitaphThe Payson Police Department is where the state’s 1033 program is administered. No other department in the state would do the work.
Friday, May 8, 20154
A story about Tombstone isn’t complete without a story about Wyatt Earp.
On May 22, the great-grandnephew of Wyatt Earp, also named Wyatt, will perform a one-man play titled “Wyatt Earp: Life on the Frontier” for Tombstone’s annual Wyatt Earp Days, in Tombstone.
“I want people to experience a story that Hollywood never told. There are far more adventures and mystique than in the movies,” said Earp. He has performed this piece close to 750 times, all over the country and world.
A self-proclaimed bio-dramatist, Earp enjoys spending his time making the life of another person come alive.
Earp hasn’t performed this piece in Tombstone in 15 years, and is looking forward to returning to the town that is home to the story of the legendary Wyatt Earp.
Although Earp now resides in Moon Valley, Arizona, he has traveled the world entertaining the public with the ultimate Old West history. Earp has performed across the United States, England, Scotland, Hungary, Canada and Panama.
The original Wyatt Earp is known as Arizona’s most infamous gunman, who was involved in the deadly shootout in Tombstone at the O.K. Corral on Oct. 26, 1881. Hollywood has prospered off the life of Earp, creating many movies revolving around his career and family, including the properly titled movie, Tombstone.
Earp’s wife, Terry, wrote the play and received interest from many Hollywood hotshots.
In 1996, the couple decided to cast Wyatt as his famous great-granduncle.
“’Wyatt Earp: Life on the Frontier’ depicts the literal history of Tombstone,” said Earp, rather than just what Hollywood chose to show.
The bio-drama is set in 1925 and Earp details the chronicles of his life to a pesky reporter.
In addition to his performance during Wyatt Earp Days, Earp also performs as part of the Arizona Gunfighters. According to Earp, the Arizona Gunfighters have a higher level of authenticity in their gunfights, and will be performing throughout the weekend’s events.
“I believe that what keeps Tombstone alive is its history,” said Earp. “The town is made up of things that most people don’t expect to see, including the courthouse and Bird Cage Saloon.”
Lauren Niday is a reporter for Arizona Sonora News, a service from
the School of Journalism with the University of Arizona. Contact her at
He’s back!A newer Wyatt Earp spreadsthe legendBy Jordan AllisonThe Tombstone Epitaph
The clop of horses’ hooves and jingle of spurs on the wooden sidewalk peppers the dusty morning air of Tombstone.
“First shootout at noon,” calls a man with a snowy white beard and sheriff’s costume as he wanders toward Allen Street, Tombstone’s historic district.
In Tombstone, history is a part of the fabric of everyday life, one that draws visitors from all over the world. Reenactments, museums, and tours are big business here. The “Town Too Tough To Die” survives on its history.
The O.K. Corral, site of that infamous gunfight, charges an adult admission of $10 for reenactments. The gift shop is filled with tchotchkes emblazoned with the O.K. Corral logo.
Patty Feather, a Bird Cage theater employee, delivers a short spiel on the history of the theater for passersby. Her black-silk skirt swishes on the floor as she turns to point out the various bullet holes that dot the Bird Cage Theatre foyer. Feather informs the smattering of people around her that a self-guided tour costs $10.
Out on the street, a man in a hard hat calls out to visitors. “Next mine tour at noon!” When people tell him they can’t make it, he shrugs. “They pay me to stand out here and tell you.”
Tucked away on a side street, the stately old courthouse stands tall, a contrast to the surrounding one-level buildings. The wooden floor creaks in protest as people walk around, admiring the historic exhibits.
The Tombstone Courthouse became a state historic park in 1959, said Jana Miller, a park steward.
“The courthouse maintains itself,” said Mary Miller, the assistant manager of the courthouse. Adults pay $5 to visit the courthouse museum, and a wooden donation box stands by the front counter.
Though the historic designation doesn’t afford the courthouse any additional funding, they are connected to a larger network of Arizona historic
landmarks.They also have restrictions on what they can
replace or repair.Jana Miller said it might be nice to have some
updates, “but that’s not 1880s style,” she said, laughing.
Walking through Tombstone’s historic district is like stepping back in time, however none of the buildings receive public funding.
“All the buildings are privately owned,” said Kenn Barrett, secretary of the Tombstone Chamber of Commerce and the chairman of the Historic District Commission.
On Allen Street businesses have to follow certain regulations in order to preserve history. There are rules on what color the buildings can be painted and the sizes and types of signs that can be hung up,
according to Barrett.“There are limits. It has to stay historic,” Barrett
said. “This is the real deal here.”At first glance, Barrett embodies the quintessential
“Old West” cowboy—with his full handlebar mustache, old-fashioned suspenders, collared bib shirt and cowboy boots.
“I don’t know why anyone would come here if they’re not into that Western, 1880s lifestyle,” Barrett said. “Half the fun is dressing up.”
Out on the street, cowboys and women in long skirts and corsets mingle with white-haired men wearing wraparound black sunglasses, families with small children, couples holding hands.
People assume there is a central authority that
History still wrangles visitorsBy Kaleigh Schufeldt and Gabby FerreiraThe Tombstone Epitaph
Kaleigh Schufeldt / The Tombstone EpitaphA tourist questions Wild West tour reenactors on Allen Street. Reenactors drive profits to local businesses by guiding tourists to shops and shows.
“Whiskey is more historic then the building,” said Billy Combs, bartender at Doc Holliday’s Saloon on the historic district of Tombstone. “Might as well put two historic things together.”
Steve Murray and Gary Evans, owners of the Arizona Craft Beverage Inc. also known as the Tombstone Distillery, have moved along in the process of completing the $60,000-a-year lease on the old Tombstone High School.
“Right now we are waiting the approval of the attorney after the next Unified School District board meeting,” said Murray. “As of right now the lease is not finalized and the first step to getting there has been taken.”
For the process to become completed, the attorney and school board must agree on the sale to Murray and Evans and complete any changes that will be made.
The old Tombstone High School was built in 1922 and was occupied until 2007 when the new Yellow Jackets home was built on the opposite side of town.
Since 2007 the old Tombstone High School has been on the real estate market and has had prospective buyers but no one has followed through on purchasing the grounds.
“Lets bring more life into this town,” said Kyle Bengel, owner of Silver Strike Winery in Tombstone.
Tombstone and Southeast Arizona has rapidly participated in the winery, distillery and brewery escapade.
Murray called the Arizona Craft Beverage Inc. the umbrella for Tombstone Distillery. “We have branched out into multiple types of liquor we are just waiting for our labels to be approved by the feds,” said Murray.
The types of liquor they have available at the Tombstone Wine Works tasting room are bourbon, four different rums and brandy that are available for taste and for sale. Also moonshine, which is not for sale but can be tasted.
“Building a successful business in Tombstone is difficult,” said Bengel. “But with the audience that is attracted by liquor and wine it will help bring life back into the community and the money will follow.”
With the current Tombstone High
School Yellow Jackets still in need of a baseball field and tennis courts, Murray and Evans have agreed to allow the high school to use the ball field from February to May. The company will then use the field for whiskey, wine and beer festivals.
Although they have not officially leased the historic building it is in an ongoing process between the Tombstone Unified School District’s attorneys Anne Carl, who will then announce whether there is an agreement.
Arizona Craft Beverage Inc. plans to keep the historic high school’s exterior the same. Instead their focus on the interior will begin with classrooms becoming tasting rooms. The gymnasium will be used for hops and barley. Two labs will be transformed
into distilleries. Many of the citizens of Tombstone
seem to be happy at the process of Arizona Craft Beverage Inc. occupying the building. “I only had a problem with an empty historic building rotting,” said Bengel.
As of right now Murray has no idea of the time frame that the process will be completed by.
“I haven’t heard anything yet from the lawyers but hopefully in a year from now it will all be approved and everyone will be happy,” said Murray.
Alexandra Adamson is a reporter for Arizona Sonora News, a service
from the School of Journalism with the University of Arizona. Contact her at
Whiskey brings a new spirit to high schoolBy Alexandra AdamsonThe Tombstone Epitaph
Alexandra Adamson / The Tombstone EpitaphThe old Tombstone High School has been vacant for years but officials hope that it will become home to a whiskey distillery.
Is western culture too tough to die?Tourism in Tombstone has seen a significant
decrease within the last decade. According to Robert Carreira, director for the Center of Economic Research at Cochise College, there were 45,790 visits to the Tombstone Courthouse. Last year that number dropped to 42,549 (7.08 percent). In the past decade, the peak year was 2005, which saw 59,330 visitors.
Carreira said there were many reasons for this decline in visitation, one being the decline in activity at Fort Huachuca. A second reason is a general disinterest in the history of the American Wild West.
“In the past, there were many more military and civilian personnel on temporary duty to the fort, which provided a steady flow of day visitors,” Carreira said. “Yet another factor is the ebb and flow of interest in the history of the American West, especially in pop culture. The movie ‘Tombstone’ gave a tremendous boost to tourism in the city, but that movie was a couple decades ago and the effect has worn off considerably.”
The frontier town isn’t the only one losing the lure of Western culture. The film industry is seeing less and less feature films from the Western genre. Dr. Bradley Schauer, associate professor at the School of Theater, Film and Television at the University of Arizona, attributes this to a cultural shit and a population shift in America.
“If you look at trends, most of the popular
television shows in the ‘50s and ‘60s were westerns in terms of dramas. You had shows like Bonanza that ran for 20 years,” Schauer said. “It was popular up until the 1950s and ‘60s. I think the main thing that changed honestly was increased urbanization of the United States. Most people in the United States are living in a city now so you don’t have that same sense that you did earlier that there’s still this frontier for you to explore.”
The younger generation is used to comic book heroes rather than action heroes. Schauer says
that kids would rather see movies about Marvel comic book characters and crime.
“Westerns are technologically primitive to where we are today. Students have an aversion to them because they seem like they aren’t relevant.”
Tucson has always been a destination for filming westerns but the city has been feeling the cultural drought as well.
Shelli Hall, director of the Tucson Film Office, says projects definitely come in an ebb and flow.
“It’s a classic American genre that comes and goes. It’s part of our history,” Hall said.
Hall explained that there haven’t been many westerns filmed in Tucson in the past couple of years. A lot of this is due to a lack of tax incentives for filming in Arizona.
“We aren’t going to get the big western pictures,” Hall said. “We’re getting mostly commercials, non-fictions or reality television. Things like that.”
Commercials and advertisements are the marketing strategy that Tombstone is using to draw in more young tourists.
Kenn Barrett, a member of the Tombstone Chamber of Commerce Board of Directors, says all you have to do is look on the street to realize most visitors are senior citizens.
“There’s no denying that the generation that grew up watching westerns on TV is more interested,” Barrett said. To attract visitors, Barrett said there are TV commercials that run in Tucson and there is a package on Cox Cable.
As for the town of Tombstone, everything is still functioning on a day-to-day basis despite tourism woes.
“Some stores are doing very well, some have been here for years and years. Some open and then close,” Barrett said. “Sometimes it’s the marble theory: there’s only so many marbles to spend and people spend it in some places more than others.”
Liza Rubin is a reporter for Arizona Sonora News, a service from the School of Journalism with the University of Arizona. Contact her at
Is Old West culture approaching death’s door?By Liza RubinThe Tombstone Epitaph
Liza Rubin / The Tombstone EpitaphThe Old Tucson Studios made a name for itself in the era of the Western. Officials report fewer feature films or television shows are interested in the western genre.
It’s a classic American genre that
comes and goes. It’s a part of our history.
— Shelli Hall, director of the Tucson Film Office
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History, Page 2
