Elected through Terror

Untitled Part 25

While I had not been down this road before, I knew the procedure. Many of the deputies and officials had been blocked and slowed down or even stopped for a period of time as they had driven down this road. Accidents were staged, cars driven slowly and could not be passed on the narrow road; anything to slow the deputy and other county employees.

They had not been physically molested or threatened – at least not on the road; and no one could prove the actions of Rajneesh's followers were deliberate, but we knew they were.

Just too many coincidences.

The Security personnel knew just how long it should take to travel between each post. As someone passed a post his/her vehicle and occupancy information was called down to the next post.

If the traveler was not at the next post within the proper time frame, a security person was sent to find out why. If the visit was a surprise and the group had not prepared for the arrival of officials, they would somehow use those methods stated above to slow things down until they were ready. They were in control or at least they liked to give the illusion of being in control of the road.

The road was a county road and therefore public. However, most of the property bordering the road belonged to the commune; all 64,000 acres and 100 square miles of it.

To be sure there was several thousand more acres of public BLM land, but a person had better know how to read a map because the security force was not forgiving and they unsettled the citizens as they drove down this road.

In many places the road was only 8 to 10 feet wide, going between a steep hill on one side and a deep ravine on the other. In a few places the road would widen out to 20 feet or so for a few yards. It was designed by the county so a vehicle going in the one direction could pull over and wait for oncoming traffic to pass.

The speed limit for the entire way was 25 miles per hour so the drive would have time to react to anything coming up and in some areas it was the best speed to have.

Like most of the graveled county roads, in the summer time it was a dry and dusty road. The slightest wind or any vehicle going over it, kicked up dust. In the winter it was covered with snow and mud; because the grade was steep it could be slick and hazardous to drive on.

Most people living in this part of the county drove four-wheel drive trucks or jeep style rigs, as did we. We had wenches on the front of some of our patrol vehicles to help in case we slid off.

But, we didn't want to slide off this road. It was a long way to the bottom. No one was sure we would receive any assistance from the commune. AND it would be hours before anyone knew we were in trouble and several hours later before anyone could get there to help us.

Once a deputy went over the top of the last hill and started down into the valley they were on their own.

As I moved on down the road I stopped off at a wide spot just before dipping down into the valley. The hills within and surrounding the ranch were a deep and beautiful purple. You could see for miles, and much of what was seen belonged to the commune.

It was said this was the point where Sheila stopped on her first visit taking in the vista and deciding right then, this would be the place they would buy.

I still had another 5-6 miles of the very narrow steep and bumpy road to go before I reached the ranch buildings and what had become a town in the middle of nowhere.

This was a ranch turned into a small city by a commune that had caused consternation throughout the county of Wasco, the State of Oregon, and indeed had become the focus of many people world-wide.

As I stood looking over the property I couldn't help but think that these people did not like me, did not vote for me and wanted as little to do with me as possible. They used intimidation to get their way and were not above using questionable techniques to obtain their objectives.

I would soon be out of radio range and out of contact with my office and any support I might need. I wasn't all that worried; I figured they wouldn't try anything on the ranch that would bring them under even more scrutiny. (A thought that later would be proven false – at least for some of the officials.)

I had my own way of intimidation if I needed it. I am not a particularly brave man, I had just learned through the years to do what needed to be done. I am right at six feet tall, plus I wear Wellingtons or cowboy boots which added a couple of inches to my height and I have a heavy built.

I had learned a long time ago, that built, my knowledge of the law and good law enforcement techniques accompanied with a firm and confident manner would carry me far in enforcing the Law.

One of my first training officers, a man who commanded respect just by his presence, was a big help to me. He told me that unless it was absolutely necessary, go into any situation low key. If you have confidence in yourself and your abilities you can often times quiet down a problem just by being there.

You can always amp up your response if needed, but often it wouldn't be needed. If you went in too strong it is difficult to calm down the situation as the people involved get more defensive.

This doesn't hold true in all circumstances, of course; sometimes you have to go in hard to protect someone, to break up fights and/or shout to be heard.

But, for the most part, it had worked well in my patrol days and in my dealings with almost everyone I met.

It was important that I go by myself; this was to be a statement of professionalism and an olive branch, of sorts, made by me to this organization as well as a show of self-confidence; I would not be intimidated.

They needed to know that I was the Sheriff, I was not necessarily their adversary, if they wanted to they could be friends as well as constituents, but, they needed to know I was not afraid to walk among them; alone.