I am neither anti-mobile home, nor anti-law enforcement. I need to make these points before writing this post, which deals with the arrests of a bunch of yahoo “militia” members in Michigan. ”Trailer trash” kind of characters can be found in places that I best defined in Odyssey of a Derelict Gunslinger while describing future prospects after my first marriage vows in front of a Mississippi Justice of the Peace.

As an under-educated seventeen-year-old newlywed with a child on the way, I seemed destined for one of those pockets of ugliness called “trailer parks.” Trailer parks have no resemblance to neat, tree-lined mobile home communities where silver-haired AARP members exchange memories and discount coupons. Nor do they look like Mother Nature’s tornado targeted, “it sounded like a freight train” working class neighborhoods, similar to the one where my daddy died in the only home he ever claimed pride of ownership.

In my mind’s eye, “trailer parks” are sinister-looking roadside ghettos with dilapidated mobile homes pockmarked by peeling aluminum siding, air conditioners tilting precariously from window sills, and battered old cars and trucks mounted on concrete blocks as monuments to the procrastination of no-accounts who drink whiskey, smoke dope, and force their families to live in such odious conditions. That seemed my destination. And if life were truly fair and I got my just desserts, I would have ended up there―borrowing jumper cables from our next door neighbor, Jimmy Swaggart.

Television news reports showing the homes of the little militia band under indictment in Detroit fit my mind’s eye image of places occupied by ”trailer trash.” Calling their group “The Hutaree”—nobody seems to know for certain what the hell that means—the eight men and one woman remain in jail without bail. But that may soon change.

A U.S. District Judge in Detroit has told prosecutors to show proof the defendants were anything more than a bunch of loudmouths, who posed no immediate danger of committing violence. They are accused of hatching a bizarre scheme that involved murdering a lawman, then bombing his funeral to kill other law enforcement folks. The purpose of the alleged plot was to kindle a nationwide revolution.

Strange but true, according to an indictment based on the testimony of an undercover agent and secretly taped conversations that so far fail to corroborate “a clear and present danger,” to use a cliche. Maybe these people are guilty as charged and the government is simply playing its cards close to the vest (two cliches in a row. I’m on a roll).

Anyway, I have an inherent distrust of “sting” operations involving undercover agents—mainly because I’ve seen, first hand, too many abuses in such cases. Once an informant gets inside an alleged criminal conspiracy, it becomes an absolute necessity to obtain indictments in order to justify the time and expense of an investigation.

Indeed, many undercover sting operations seem to follow trends that are designed to generate publicity. In the 1950’s, outing commies was the big deal. Then along came the mafia in the sixties, followed by a public and media fixation on Watergate in the 1970’s. Investigations of illegal drugs and arms dealing were big in the eighties (remember Iran-Contra?), Whitewater and political corruption a decade later, and since the turn of the century, the highest profile cases have involved terrorism. All important issues and each deserves its moment in the sun (trite phrase number three).

But in every instance, there were frequent law enforcement abuses, including a few that helped keep me in the investigative reporting business for thirty years. In a series of CNN reports during the mid-nineties, for example, I exposed a U.S. Custom Service sting operation know as Exodus. And  by darn, I will shamelessly plug my book with another short excerpt. 

Agents lured two German buyers to the United States by misrepresenting the legality of the merchandise being offered for sale. The men were secretly videotaped buying today’s equivalent of B.B. guns. The arrests were announced with great fanfare. Then Attorney General Richard Thornburg portrayed them as “merchants of death.”

In reality, it was the first arms venture for both buyers. Neither man had been in trouble with the law before. Because of the unsavory tactics of investigators in assuring the victims that the deal was lawful, the charges were thrown out of court. My CNN investigation of the case led me to other Exodus abuses.

One target was a retired Egyptian Air Force General hailed as a hero in his country. He was considered a close friend of the U.S. military. But after responding to an ad in a weapons magazine, he was entrapped by agents who repeatedly vouched for the legality of a sale.  By exploiting his lack of understanding of American slang, investigators elicited incriminating statements. “There was a lot of talking, mostly by the government,” an irate federal judge said in dismissing the charges.

Exodus was not limited to arms sales. A California electronics salesman was secretly videotaped finalizing the sale of an obsolete supercomputer to a Belgium informant―a snitch being paid a bounty by customs agents to ensnare suspects. During negotiations, the snitch told the computer salesmen that the computer was Paris-bound. But at a final secretly-videotaped meeting in an Orlando, Florida hotel room, the informant said the computer was actually being shipped to an embargoed Eastern European country. On camera, the target of the sting backed out of the deal. It was too late.

Agents stormed his hotel room as he explained the turn of events to his lawyer in a telephone call.  Again, the arrest was portrayed at a news conference as ensuring the safety of U.S. citizens. And again, the charges were ultimately dismissed.

During news conferences following Exodus arrests, Attorney General Thornburg, U.S. Attorneys and Customs officials regularly overstated the importance of spurious arrests. Journalists dutifully wrote down the names and allegations, but rarely questioned the propaganda. Bloated cases made front page headlines. After being tossed out of court, however, verdicts were relegated to the back sections of newspapers alongside obituaries. Television reporters completely ignored the outcomes.

There are a variety of purposes for overzealous sting investigations, but two stand out. First, there is the human need to be recognized for hard work. However, a more pragmatic reason is money. At all levels—local, state and federal—budgets are allocated on the perception that agencies are doing a good job. Favorable headlines never hurt. 

I won’t venture a guess about the outcome of the Michigan “trailer trash” indictments. By the same token, I will not be surprised if it is less there than meets the eyes (have I scored another cliche?).

My memoir, Odyssey of a Derelict Gunslinger, is available at amazon.com and independent bookstores. It offers much more than $19.99 worth of laughs. It is an account of my illustrious (I choose the adjectives) career.