SamPratt.com

Czajka vs. Keeler: The challenger has issues (Part II)

2019-11-01T11:52:51-04:00

THE INTERVIEWS

Having been asked by both District Attorney Paul Czajka and his challenger Eugene Keeler to support their campaigns, this site sat down for interviews with the two men.

Each interview was followed by extensive follow-up by email and direct message. This interviewer’s more personal take on the candidates appeared in Part I of this series.

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Gene Keeler

In the back room of Wunderbar in Hudson, Keeler began with a barked instruction: Let me talk first—no interruptions!

He proceeded to deliver a 10-minute monologue, consisting of a nearly-verbatim recitation of policy positions already posted at his website, keelerforda.com.

As the interview progressed, Keeler frequently wanted to take his comments off the record, for the purpose of inserting negative information about Czajka into this report without being held accountable for it—but sometimes forgetting whether he was on-record or off-.

By contrast, the conversation with Czajka began as just that: an actual conversation, at a public table outside Otto’s Market in Germantown. The tone was easygoing and open, and not limited to the November election. The incumbent D.A. made no demands, and did not seek to impose limitations on the back-and-forth.

At one point, an unsuccessful Democratic 2015 candidate for Town Board approached, and made an inartful show of neither recognizing Czajka nor knowing how to pronounce his name once introduced. (It’s CHAI-KAH). The Democrat made several other attempts to needle the D.A., without success. Drawing perhaps on his experience as a judge, Czajka remained smiling and even-keeled throughout, and let the person have his say.

Keeler for his part kept saying that he was running a “positive campaign,” dropping hints of instructions from the County Democratic Committee to “not go negative this time.” His failed 2011 campaign against Czajka led to a scathing rebuke from The Columbia Paper for deploying “exaggerations and innuendo to tarnish his opponent,” and in theory both Keeler and the Dems would like to avoid another scolding.

Nevertheless (as discussed in an earlier report) Keeler followed the session with several salvos of negative “opposition research” about Czajka over the subsequent days and weeks. Then, in a troubling interview with the Register-Star’s Amanda Purcell last week, Keeler abandoned all pretense of staying positive by reiterating many of his discredited 2011 attacks.

He also admitting that he had been laundering campaign information via a career criminal who is currently being prosecuted for stealing from an elderly man.

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This time around, Keeler’s ostensible focus is on bringing compassion and “reform” to the D.A.’s office. Citing his background as a social worker, he’s cobbled together a set of ideas from theorists around the country into a package of what he referred to as “collaborative justice decision-making.”

Keeler heatedly argues instead for a “decision-making system which is not top-down, arbitrary and driven by one person.” Believing that everyone has “unconscious biases,” he distrusts the idea of a prosecutor exercising his own best judgement. At Wunderbar, he contended that the current D.A.’s vaunted 90% conviction rate “does not actually protect victims or make the county safer,” and broadly alleged, without proof, that partisan and personal allegiances influence who gets prosecuted.

In place of the current system, Keeler proposes a new form of “community input on who does and doesn’t got to prison.” To achieve these goals, Keeler proposes to convene a group of “professionals from the community” to advise the D.A. “on policy procedures” and actual cases. This committee would be drawn, he said, from people serving in “nonprofits, agencies, church groups, businesses…”

Apparently, this committee would meet “to knock around the cases” even before any grand jury was convened, any jurors were selected, and long before any trial occurred—in effect pre-empting the longstanding legal procedures designed to winnow out weak cases.

Czajka’s reaction to this complicated proposal was simple: Even if he wanted to implement such a plan, he does not believe it would be Constitutional for a District Attorney “to delegate his decision-making authority” in that manner. An appointed panel would be open to the charge, he said, that “nobody voted for them.” He also would have serious concerns about confidentiality, if law enforcement or prosecutors were to share certain types of information about suspects who had not even been indicted with such a committee.

Another common-sense concern—which Keeler brushed aside—could arise from transplanting experimental programs from major cities in places like California to vastly smraller rural communities like Columbia County. Namely: It could prove impossible to assemble a standing panel of “professional” community members uninfluenced by their own allegiances to local political, economic, institutional, religious and other interests.

Allegations of inappropriate personal influence and favoritism would proliferate, as the committee’s decisions on who to prosecute and who not to prosecute invariably could be ascribed to personal connections or factionalism. The very point of grand juries and jury selection is to randomize these selections, and to vet potential jurors for obvious conflicts or unsuitability.

A hand-picked, standing panel such as Keeler proposes would be the opposite of random and neutral. It seems either an ironic choice for a candidate who has so often railed against cronyism; or else just one he has not fully thought through.

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Paul Czajka

On the topic of kinder and gentler prosecutors, Czajka highlights his experience with the County’s opioid crisis, and the endorsement of Beth Schuster, executive director of Twin County Recovery Services. Schuster touted Czajka’s “compassion and understanding,” saying that he “has demonstrated respect and support for those impacted by addiction and the family members who care for them.”

Czajka comes across as reflective, and not the least bit defensive, about his career as both a D.A. and judge.

Before election to County office, that career also included volunteering to serve in the Peace Corps, representing farmers with the USDA, working as Germantown’s town attorney, and representing the Southern Columbia Ambulance Squad pro bono.

He says that he’s left aside his more youthful ideas from 35 years ago of “changing the world” and just tries to take the thousands of cases he sees “one at a time.”

He does express regret about “lock-’em-up” attitudes taken in the past, for example in regard to illegal drugs. He readily admits that while he was “good at” securing drug convictions, this approach did not work in the long run.

For those cases which do not result in convictions, Czajka makes no excuses, and says the buck stops with him. On principle he considers himself ultimately responsible for the outcome of every case handled by his office. He vows that he will never throw staff or law enforcement under the bus, even if doing so might save face for himself. The D.A.’s job, he adds, is as much a management position as a prosecutorial one.

The topic of shouldering blame has cropped up in each of Keeler’s attempts to regain the office he held for one term in the 1980s. He did not run for re-election in 1988 after the Wyley Gates case drew national attention, but resulted only in conspiracy convictions, rather than guilty verdicts for the four murders. (Czajka—who was briefly assigned to represent Gates “for a minute” before the accused obtained his own counsel—declined to comment on it.)

In a letter reproduced on Keeler’s website, Columbia County Democratic Committee chair Keith Kanaga sought to deflect blame for the Gates verdict on “shoddy police work.” In a 1988 profile, however, Keeler conceded to The Albany Times-Union that “he will take the verdicts ’to my grave.’”

Keeler also expressed regrets at the time that the case lost him fees from his side business as a real estate attorney. He complained to the T-U that “the Gates trial cost him $15,000 in personal business,” asking about himself in the third person: “If you were buying a house during the Gates trial, would you call Gene Keeler?”

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Far more recent, and far more damaging than the Gates trial for Keeler were his antics during the 2011 campaign.

In that race, Keeler’s habit of attacking opponents defined his candidacy, and not for the better. In a blistering editorial, The Columbia Paper’s Parry Teasdale—mildly liberal, and liberally mild—excoriated Keeler for his campaign conduct.

Endorsing Czajka, Teasdale blasted the Democrat’s publication of a tabloid newspaper devoted collecting and repeating every knock on and rumor ever spread about Czajka. Referring to the paper as “political trash,” Teasdale said that Keeler’s reliance on “exaggerations and innuendo” left his campaign “without a shred of credibility.”

After losing that race, one might have expected Keeler to give up trying to retake his old office from more than 30 years ago—or, at least, given up using the same tactics. As detailed in Part I, Keeler gave up all pretense of running a “positive campaign” last weeks after his bizarre Register-Star interview was published.

And inexplicably, the County Democrats have turned yet again to the same candidate, which calls to mind Einstein’s remark about the insanity of expecting a different result from the same approach.

HANDICAPPING TUESDAY

So why would Keeler and the Columbia Dems expect a different result this time around?

The answers seems to be that (a) they are hoping a tidal wave disgust with Trump will lift all Democratic boats, and anyway (b) they didn’t really to find anyone to run, and so the nomination was Keeler’s for the taking.]

The Dem’s inability to find—or lack of interest in finding—someone else to run suggests either a lack of imagination, or a lack of a bench, or a lack of energy, or all three.

But unlike a generation ago, Democrats now have the highest enrollment of any party in Columbia County. Voters here have gone solidly for national candidates like Obama and (Hillary) Clinton.

And rage against the Trump administration has many more voters saying they’ll “Vote Blue No Matter Who.” In campaign emails and conversation, Czajka himself notes that more new Democrats have registered to vote locally than his margin of victory in the 2011 campaign. On the other hand, voters have also returned familiar Republicans to offices such as County Sheriff and Clerk repeatedly in years between Federal elections.

Meanwhile, though some Yellow Dog Democrats locally take the position that anyone who endorses a Republican is some kind of traitor to the cause, this lens appears to be a selective one.

For example, the Chatham Democrats are running a Republican for Supervisor, even as the Republicans run an independent—with no public backlash from the County Democratic establishment. As much as Trump motivated Democrats in the midterm Federal elections, this may be an election cycle which features more people splitting their tickets, casting vote for the person, not the party.

Some Democratic candidates on Town tickets express private concerns that the wave of new Dem enrollment for the Delgado-Faso race in 2018 may not translate to similar results in 2019. They report that many 2018 registrants lack much interest in down-ticket local elections. Two candidates expressed fears that by sending a weak challenger like Keeler against Czajka, their own chances will be diminished, as the countywide race gives the GOP a way to motivate their base.

There is also the small problem of Keeler lacking True Blue bona fides. While he has held recent fundraisers for Columbia Democrats, he ran previously as a Republican in Rensselaer County, and ran for various offices as a member of the Independence Party. Czajka, though strongly identified as a Republican, still likes to mention that his mother was a Democratic Committeeman. He has also touted the endorsement of various Democratic attorneys, plus Democratic Supervisors Art Bassin and Ray Staats.

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Teasdale of the Columbia Paper—not registered in any party himself, but married to a Democrat, and generally seen as left-leaning—once again endorses Czajka over Keeler, as he did in 2011.

Alluding to Keeler’s long absence from the courtroom, Teasdale writes that “There is only one prosecutor seeking the job of Columbia County district attorney this year. He is Paul Czajka. He has served the county admirably for decades. He is poised to continue applying the law with an openness to new ideas and he remains unwavering in his determination to protect the people whose lives depend on the office he holds.”

Given the professionalism and equanimity Czajka displayed in his interview with this site, coupled with the dishonesty that Keeler showed in his own, it is easy to agree.

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Part III: A final personal note and coda to the Czajka-Keeler race will appear on Monday.

Czajka vs. Keeler: It’s not a close choice (Part I)

2019-10-28T12:01:43-04:00

Left: Paul Czajka Right: Gene Keeler Source: Candidate websites

Both the incumbent District Attorney Paul Czajka and his challenger, Gene Keeler, asked for my support in this Fall’s elections.

Having known both candidates for more years than I can count, this put me in kind of a sticky position.

But had I not known both as friends, this would not be a difficult choice. Before explaining that choice, and what occurred during my interviews with each, it’s worth saying a bit more about those relationships, and sketching a portrait of each of the men who would be D.A.

JUDGEMENT, BOOKS & COVERS

Until Melino’s pub in Hudson closed earlier this month, I could rely on running into Gene having a solitary beer just before kickoff of the 1 pm football games, looking for a political conversation. Gene would buy me a Budweiser draft, then bend my ear about his single topic of conversation—namely, his longstanding claims about corruption in Columbia County government. Having worked as an activist against the status quo for many years, I guess I made a likely audience.

Invariably, Gene would have his eyeglasses up on his forehead, secured behind his neck with a cord. When he stood up, one of the tails of his shirt might be untucked. At some point, he’d produce a pack of dogeared index cards from his breast pocket—held together with rubber bands, where he jots down reminders to himself.

Though Gene has recently bowed to the wishes of the Columbia County Democratic Committee, and courted endorsements from establishment figures, in conversation over the years he has often been a heated critic of the party’s lack of effectiveness. Indeed, Gene has run at times as a Republican, and once sought to take over the County Independence Party leadership. For this campaign, however, he seems keen to hew to the party line, at least as much as his galvanic nature will allow it.

Likewise, I often bump into Paul at the Bell’s Pond supermarket, or in Hudson restaurants, where he is often accompanied by a jovial band of staff members. No matter the venue, he looks as if he walked off the office set of Mad Men: neatly attired like an advertising executive in a gray or blue suit, starched shirt, classic tie and, in certain weather, an oldschool men’s hat. He always appears to have visited a barber within the past 10 days, as men used to do.

Paul has been unflaggingly polite, genial, and open to conversation with me—despite some pretty unforgivable behavior toward him on my part some 15 years ago. (More on that in Part II.) He has interests which range well beyond the law, for example once lending me a copy of Saul Bellow’s terrific novel Henderson the Rain King, written while he was teaching at Bard. He also has an affinity for local political history, for which he has a remarkable memory. As a moderate Republican, he likes to mention that his mother was a Democratic committeeman.

I have seen Paul stay cool, unflappable and smiling when taken to task by people who had few facts or context to back up their verbal assaults on him.

QUALITIES & QUALIFICATIONS

Appearances shouldn’t matter. I’d be more likely to vote in a primary for Bernie Sanders, with his unkempt hair and raspy Brooklyn accent, than the more conventionally “presentable” Joe Biden. I myself own only one comb, which I can’t find at the moment... Most of my cheap Wrangler pants have tears in them from working outdoors, or feature splotches of housepaint.

But I’m not aiming to be a District Attorney. And for the books of Keeler and Czajka, their demeanors and deportment do seem to mirror their personalities. Gene struggles to stay kempt, calm and collected. Meanwhile, Paul gives the impression that his neat, orderly and upbeat bearing does reflect his habits of mind. Mens sana in corpore sano, as the saying goes.

By his own admission, Gene has not practiced law in nearly 5 years. (His detractors claim he has not set foot in a courtroom in 10.) As seen in a recent Register-Star interview, and also my own conversations with him, straightforward journalistic questions which he does not want to hear cause him to get annoyed and rattled—far more easily than is wise for a potential prosecutor.

Gene’s “reform” proposals, no matter how well-intentioned, feel half-baked and even opportunistic. When pressed, he falls back on his background as a social worker. But issues of social and racial justice took a backseat in his previous campaigns against Paul and former D.A. Beth Cozzolino—both opponents coming in for thunderous abuse of their characters.

There is indeed a need for more compassionate law enforcement and justice all across our country. But achieving these goals may require a less tendentious messenger than the Democratic nominee for D.A.. The longer we talked, the more Gene’s inability to stick to a script, let alone basic principles, emerged. Having waged a disastrously negative campaign against Paul in 2011, he will insist he is staying positive this time… but will lay right back down in the gutter with negative attacks only minutes later.

Worse than that: Over the course of a month, I could not help but realize, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that my friend Gene had lied to my face—more than once. In my own relationships, the one fatal quality a person can display is conscious dishonesty. Once someone lies to you, you can never trust them again, even if they apologize (which Gene hasn’t).

For those dispensing justice, lying should be even more unpardonable.

ENDORSEMENT: PAUL CZAJKA FOR D.A.

Now, I seldom vote for any Republican, unless the Democrat is unusually unfit for office. Even a moderate Republican can be objectionable, to the extent that they enable their lunatic, right-wing peers in the party. There are, however, exceptions.

For example, in 1999 I assisted the moderate Republican Kenny Cranna in his successful campaign for Hudson Mayor against Cappy Pierro, because the Hudson Dems had drifted to the right of Strom Thurmond. Cranna proved a big disappointment. But I don’t regret at all keeping the Pierro gang out of City Hall for a term. And some of Cranna’s running mates, such as since-deceased Treasurer Kevin Walsh, did some real good in cleaning up the City’s disastrously messy finances and giving Hudson a breather from the Scalera circus.

Moreover, this endorsement is not merely against Gene’s non-starter of a candidacy. It also recognizes that Paul is a sound, competent choice. As will be discussed in Part II, he has expressed regrets about the stern “law and order” approach of his early years as D.A. and as a judge. He seems to have moderated many of his positions and practices, except when it concerns the most vile crimes, such as child molestation. He takes a constructive and less punitive approach to pressing issues, such as the local opiod crisis. And he doesn’t fly off the handle when opponents like Keeler (or his surrogates) tar him with outlandish accusations.

Based on my interview, I have reason to believe that Paul is more than capable of staying independent from Republican orthodoxy and allegiances, and will side with the law over rank partisanship. Today, he seems the kind of person who would gladly and openly sit down with those who believe that the current ”system” is slanted against them, and actually take stock of their concerns.

Overall, Paul Czajka has the experience, skills and most of all the right temperament to do the job professionally. As such, having listened to and quizzed both candidates about their intentions, and thought long and hard about it, I’ll be voting for Paul in November.

PART II of this series will delve journalistically into the candidates, their positions, and their credibility, and will refer henceforth to both by their last names.

Legal ethics expert calls D.A. candidate’s actions “totally unethical” and “bizarre”

2019-10-26T09:33:40-04:00

Register-Star report undermines Keeler’s interview claims

This site has sat down with both incumbent Columbia County District Attorney Paul Czajka and challenger Gene Keeler for interviews about their November election race. The resulting article had been slated to appear this week.

However, a report this morning in The Register-Star bears immediate discussion, since Keeler’s comments to reporter Amanda Purcell strongly suggest that the Democratic candidate has been less than honest in his assertions to this site.

The Register report also contains a stunning admission from Keeler that if elected, he would have to recuse himself from the prosecution of someone he previously called “a con man,” due to his own attempts to enlist that person to aid his campaign.

A Fordham legal ethics professor interviewed by Purcell agrees that Keeler’s actions are extremely troubling, describing the situation as “shocking” and “bizarre.”

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In his interview with this site, Keeler was given an opportunity to respond to repeated assertions by detractors that he has been collaborating with Stockport’s Jeffrey Yeh.

In an investigative report last summer by Roger Hannigan Gilson in The Other Hudson Valley, for which this site’s author contributed some background research, Yeh was described as having a “criminal career” which

“stretches back at least 26 years. Yeh has been charged with at least 26 crimes by police agencies, including at least 18 felonies. He has been sentenced to incarceration at least five times.

“The charges documented tend to revolve around theft, identity theft, electronic surveillance and possessing forged financial documents. Many of his victims were known to him, such as individuals who employed him, or people he knew socially.“

Visibly upset by a question about any potential connection between Yeh and his campaign, Keeler stood up and thundered “Absolutely not!”

Keeler then characterized Yeh as “a con man.” Several days later, he attempted to move this outburst off-the-record, though he had not asked in advance for it to be treated as such.

But now, in Purcell‘s candidate profiles for The Register-Star, Keeler calls his own veracity into question by stating the precise opposite. Rather than “absolutely not” in communication with that “con man,” Keeler told the paper on Thursday:

“he has been in communication with Jeffrey Yeh, who was indicted by a Columbia County grand jury in June on several felony charges related to alleged credit card theft. Yeh’s trial is scheduled to begin in January, after the winning candidate in the Nov. 5 election takes office.”

Keeler now admits to Purcell that he circulated negative information about Czajka to Yeh, which Yeh then published on his Facebook group. That page routinely features often salacious, usually anonymous and almost entirely unsubstantiated allegations about County law enforcement and judicial figures.

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Purcell smartly reached out to an independent legal ethics expert, Fordham Law professor James Cohen for an an outside view of the situation.

Cohen characterizes Keeler’s conflict of interest as “a breach of staggering proportion... It is totally unethical that an attorney and candidate for DA would speak to a defendant under criminal indictment.”

Keeler then attempts to brush off the formerly-denied association with Yeh as just “entertainment.” (He similarly told this site that he found Yeh’s antics “entertaining.”) Seeming to realize he may have gone too far, Keeler adds: “Do I have a problem about what [Yeh] says or does, libel and all that? Yes, there are issues there.”

When pressed by this site about why he had appeared to post in threads or like incendiary messages on Yeh’s controversial page, Keeler blamed his “fat fingar [sic].”

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On September 13th, this site asked Keeler in writing: “If you are elected D.A, is there any conflict of interest or prior relationship which would prevent you from continuing the existing cases against Yeh begun under Czajka?” Keeler responded:

“I have no relationship with him that would prevent me from being involved with a criminal procedure if he was a witness or defendant.”

But now readers learn from The Register-Star interview that if elected, Keeler does in fact plan to recuse himself from continuing Yeh’s prosecution:

“Keeler intends to recuse himself from the case on his first day in office, if elected, and ask the judge to appoint a special prosecutor from outside the county.”

So Keeler has absolutely nothing to do with that con man... and no reason to recuse himself from his prosecution... Except when he does.

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Keeler also insisted repeatedly in his September interview, and in subsequent direct messages, that he is “running a positive campaign.”

Both Keeler himself and sources within the Democratic Party have indicated that they did not want him engaging in the type of attacks which derailed his previous campaign.

Yet in the Register-Star article, Keeler launches a fusillade of unsubstantiated attacks, much like those of the “con man” he finds entertaining. Alleging “corruption” between the D.A.’s office and law enforcement, Keeler claims that his opponent has been “doing favors” such as “taking care of DWI records for years — reductions and disappearing cases.”

Pressed by Purcell “to produce names, Keeler did not and generalized by saying, ‘They’re police officers, former police officers. They’re everybody.’”

Leaving aside Keeler’s willingness to make extremely serious accusations without backing them up, at the very best he appears to have been less than committed to his pledge to “stay positive.”

Given that today’s political campaigns almost always involve some negative campaigning, readers might wonder why Keeler was straining so hard to keep things positive. The answer lies in his previous run for D.A., in 2011, when he published a faux-tabloid newspaper full of similarly-inflammatory material.

That Fall, the Columbia Paper’s Parry Teasdale raked Keeler over the coals for making scurrilous and unproven accusations. Teasdale lambasted the “flimsiness of his evidence,” along with “his exaggerations and innuendo,” concluding that his antics had left his campaign with “not a shred of credibility.”

It seems history is repeating itself.

Feight left only a faint online trail

2013-06-20T12:37:37-04:00

Yesterday’s news that a Stockport man is being held as a co-conspirator in a goofy-but-grotesque terrorism plot leaves Columbia County residents wondering: Who is Eric J. Feight?

Many people leave extensive traces of themselves online, but Feight’s web presence seems relatively slight. The highlighted photo above—found in a 2013 newsletter of the Kinderhook Elks Lodge #2530—is one of the only photos of Feight uncovered after an extensive web search.

Feight is listed as the Lodge’s “Leading Knight,” evidently the #2 position in the group.

Feight is, of course, innocent until proven guilty; and most experts seem to think that the crackpot device he and Glendon S. Crawford (reported to be a Tea Partier and KKK wannabe) allegedly sought to construct would not have actually worked.

The mustachioed and slightly-graying 50something man above appears to match a grainy photo of Feight being arraigned yesterday, published in the Times-Union.

Feight’s former employer, Smith Control Systems, no longer has his bio posted on their website, and denies any contact with him since he left in 2010. But an archive of that bio can be accessed via the Wayback Machine, indicating Feight’s technical expertise:

Eric Feight - Project Engineer

Engineering Manager - MCSE - Microsoft Certified Systems Engineer - Has over 19 yrs. experience designing control systems. Projects Include: Water & Waste Water Treatment Plants, Material Handling, Conveyor Systems, Extrusion, Coordinated Motion Machinery, High Speed Sorting Systems, Paper Processing. Software Experience: Cimplicity HMI, SQL Server, Access, Intouch, Texas Instruments, Red Lion, Emmerson, Allen-Bradley, Honeywell, PanelView, GE Fanuc, Quick Panel, Intellution and API.

Feight is listed currently as Vice President of a company called Genius Industrial Solutions. GIS’s website gives no physical address, only phone and email contacts; but other records indicate it is located in Cobleskill. Feight and GIS are included on a Hudson Valley Community College list of companies interested in hiring HVCC grads.

As noted by the website Heavy.com Feight used the sci-fi codename “Yoda” in his dealings with Crawford. According to conversations recorded by the FBI, Feight said was motivated to “act” by Obama’s 2012 re-election:

So, I mean I, I, I have to admit having never been involved in anything like this before, you know, at first it made me a little bit nervous...I don’t want to say apprehension, but nervousness about how much involvement I was gonna get in this kind of got outweighed, uh, quickly with, you know, when I started seeing how things, the direction things were going and then certainly after the elections. It's like well, ok, you know, that old saying is right. You know, the only thing necessary for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing.

Speaking of code words, the indictment indicates that the pair called themselves the “The Guild,” and referred to their intended Muslim targets as “medical waste.”

Feight left this question on a technical message board, looking for advice for getting a DRPAM interface to work. (No one replied.) It’s not clear whether this had anything to do with the control device he is charged with building for Crawford.

Feight is, of course, innocent unless proved guilty beyond a reasonable doubt; and in any case, most experts seem to think that the device planned was more fantasy than reality.

‘Fire Alley’ continues to generate news

2013-06-19T17:15:59-04:00

A: Devastating house fire • B: Smith Control Systems, where Feight worked • C: Blaze at Amanda’s Fireplace • D: Two fires at TCI of NY • E: Feight residence • F: Structure fire at home • G: Shed/barn fire • NOT PICTURED: Meadowgreens fire

With news breaking of a bizarre terrorism arrest with connections to Columbia County, one can’t help but to wonder: What is it with the Route 9H corridor?

In a previous report, this site referred to a four-mile stretch of 9H as “Fire Alley,” with a series of major fires in just 2.5 years.

Five fires on 9H during this period included the May 2010 blaze which leveled Amanda’s Fireplace on 9H, between Falls Road and Falls Industrial Road. That fire was deemed an arson by investigators, though no one was ever arrested. Columbia County issued a $2.5 million stimulus bond to assist Amanda’s with rebuilding.

Just a stone’s throw from Amanda’s Fireplace on Falls Industrial Road one finds TCI of NY, the PCB handler/processor whose facility was devastated by a September 2012 fire. That inferno (and the overnight sequence of explosions) caused an evacuation of neighbors, with all residents within 15 miles told to stay indoors and turn off air conditioning for the day.

As also previously reported here, two additional fires (for a total of seven) occurred just a couple miles off Fire Alley in recent years, on nearby Knitt Road along the border of Ghent and Stockport.

A January 2008 structure fire at 28 Knitt Road forced a woman to jump from a second-story window to safety; and then a July 2011 barn/shed fire at 16 Knitt Road. Knitt Road turns into Falls Road as it heads east, coming to a T at Route 9H—the epicenter of Fire Alley.

And now, stories are breaking of the Federal complaint charging one Eric J. Feight as an alleged co-conspirator (with Glendon S. Crawford) in an outlandish plot to irradiate Muslims with a homemade X-ray device. Feight is listed as a registered Conservative in Columbia County Board of Elections records at 115 Knitt Road—several houses down from the barn and structure fires of 2008 and 2011.

As the Times-Union reports, the terrorism suspect

formerly worked as a computer software expert and “project engineer” for Smith Control Systems... A company official said Feight has not worked at the company since 2010.

Where is Smith Control Systems? Right next door to Amanda’s Fireplace on 9H. Smith Control is #1839, and Amanda’s is #1869.

Coincidence? Almost surely. (It should be noted, Mr. Feight and his accomplice are, innocent unless proven guilty beyond a reasonable doubt.) That said, it continues to amaze how consistently one isolated area of a rural county manages to generate both news, and trouble.

In any event, the complaint alleges:

FEIGHT has designed, identified and received needed parts, built, and successfully tested a working remote initiation device to remotely control an industrial x-ray system - which CRAWFORD later demonstrated - and that remote initiation device is powered by a plug-in cigarette lighter electrical source, consistent with CRAWFORD's requirement to put the whole system into a truck so that it can be used against human targets. FEIGHT is aware of CRAWFORD's plan that the remote initiation device be used to remotely control an industrial x-ray system to injure or kill human targets deemed undesirable, and, on November 14, 2012, FEIGHT met with CRAWFORD, UCE #2, and UCE #3 near Albany, NY to discuss the purpose of the project, assign tasks, and confirm his capability to design and build a remote initiation device.

And:

CRAWFORD and FEIGHT both have used the phrase "sterilize medical waste" to refer to the harming and killing of human beings, and stated that the purpose of their device is to kill human beings. From time to time, however, they each have expressed a reluctance to be the one who actually triggers the device to kill.

Resumé for Moore

2013-02-26T18:02:36-05:00

ABOVE: This photo from the New York State Police Newsroom identifies Sgt. Ed Moore as second from the right.

This site has obtained a copy of the resumé of Sgt. L. Edward (Ed) Moore, whom three well-placed sources now are predicting will soon be named the new Hudson Police Chief. A copy of the resumé can be read as a PDF by clicking here. An excerpt follows below:

I am a thirty two (32) year veteran of the New York State Police. I have the unique qualification of having been involved in all facets of police management, criminal investigations, and road patrol. As the highest ranking and longest serving non-commissioned officer in the four county region of the Mid-Hudson River Valley of New York State, I have had numerous commendations for public service, personal integrity, administration, and investigative work in organized crime, drug trafficking, bribery, and corruption.

The New York State police have honored me with the rank of First Sergeant of Troop K. Only nine other State Police Members hold this prestigious position – “the Sergeant’s Sergeant.” As such, I am in charge of the Headquarters facility in Millbrook, responsible for the supervision of 20 civilian staff, developing special details and plans for Troop K’s activities. I oversee the maintenance of the Troop’s 300 plus vehicles, and the purchases of all supplies and equipment. I have oversight of scheduling, deployment of manpower, safety, overtime expenditures, and discipline. I am in charge of ceremonial details, and I am particularly proud of assuring the Troop’s adherence to military regulations, proper display of the flag, and the traditions of the New York State Police.

Moore’s resumé cites, among other things: his voluntary service in New Orleans in the wake of Hurricane Katrina; his management of infrastructure and building projects for the Troop K barracks in Livingston, an investigation into illegal dumping which led to the arrest of a mob hit man (including his cross-examination by F. Lee Bailey), and his apprehension of a suspect in a murder which occurred in the Columbia Memorial Hospital parking lot,

The Cross Dossier, Exhibit C

2013-02-10T14:45:00-05:00

The search for (and failed case against) Quintin Cross and Jamont McClendon engaged the local political class to a remarkable degree. Due to the City’s tangled web of rivalries and allegiances, Cross’s career in electoral politics, as well as the inherently political nature of a City Hall burglary, records show that both the defense and the prosecution received help from various political players.

For example, on the day the burglary was discovered, the email pictured above was sent by former Hudson Democratic chair and four-time Mayoral candidate Linda Mussmann to lawyer Susan Tipograph. The New York City-based attorney, a longtime associate of Time & Space Limited, was already representing Cross regarding legal attempts to compel him to pay restitution for his illegal charges on a City credit card. The email alerts Tipograph that, in Mussmann’s words, “Quintin has screwed up big time.” The next day, Mussmann forwarded a Register-Star article to Tipograph regarding the warrants out for Cross and McClendon’s arrest. A printout of this email exchange was provided by Cross in the box of documents made available for this site’ inspection.

Another local player assisting Cross’s team was former School Board candidate and education blogger Lynn Sloneker, who now serves as news director of radio station WGXC. The documents provided by Cross show that Sloneker responded to his request for media research, providing excerpts of articles covering the current and previous case.

The trove of documents also reveals a hand-drafted (but unsigned) agreement between Cross and Taghkanic residents Dan and Mary Udell, in which they agree to post his bond in exchange for weekly meetings with Cross and regular updates from him about the case. The Udells were honored several years ago by the Columbia County Democrats for their videotaping of Hudson City Council and other local meetings.

On the other side of the case, Cross’s records also show that former Mayor Dick Tracy contacted the Hudson Police Department during his six-week disappearance. Tracy passed along a report that a resident of the Crosswinds housing complex was receiving packages on the former alderman’s behalf. When the HPD investigated, the person in question denied both doing so and knowing anything about Cross’s whereabouts. Tracy also passed along a tip that someone familiar with Cross believed he “was somewhere in Texas.”

A Register-Star employee contacted the HPD on March 21st to say that she thought she saw Cross and McClendon at the Cheesecake Factory in Colonie Center. Investigation by the Colonie police did not turn up any evidence they had been there.

Meanwhile, Cross has responded to widespread talk that recently-resigned HPD chief Ellis Richardson somehow influenced the handling of the case. (During his interview with Detective Funk, the policeman leaves for about 20 minutes after saying, “Let’s see what my boss wants.”) Cross wrote in an email last week that:

I am close with the Chief and I know for a fact he wasn't around that day actually he was in Albany and I know that I was indicted by the time he got back.

In a transcript posted yesterday of his own interview, McClendon asks to speak with the Chief, but Detective Funk says that he is there on the Chief’s behalf and that he should talk to him as such.

The Cross Dossier, Exhibit B

2013-02-07T15:38:49-05:00

As noted in the first post in this series, former Hudson Alderman Quintin Cross has provided this site with access to a large trove of documents his defense collected during the time that authorities tried (but ultimately failed) to prosecute him and a friend, Jamont McClendon, for the much-discussed burglary at City Hall.

Coincidentally, just hours after the first installment was published, the City of Hudson announced that Hudson Police chief Ellis Richardson was retiring.

Below are excerpts of a second key video from that dossier. This site has made a partial transcript of the HPD’s interrogation of McClendon on the night he was arrested in a house on State Street—roughly two weeks after the burglary and after warrants went out for the pair’s arrest.

This wide-ranging conversation covers an extremely diverse set of topics, from the definition of racism, to why he and Cross like to go to the Red Dot, to what McClendon was doing on the night of the burglary, to questions about political influence, to whether “hippies in Harlemville” could be harboring Cross.

The interview runs nearly four times longer than Cross’s, and is far more emotional and far-ranging. Detective John Funk and McClendon have an obvious rapport, and the conversation reveals a great deal about both life on Hudson’s streets and the folks who police it—humanizing both the suspect and the detective. Their dialogue is by turns argumentative, compassionate, lighthearted, tragic or just profane.

McClendon is handcuffed throughout, and complains to Funk of his treatment during his arrest. Later, he was assigned a public defender, John Leonardson, whose role in the case has been very low-profile. But other documents indicate that Leonardson’s thorough research and forceful briefs were instrumental in the outcome. Leonardson argued that this interview should have been disclosed to the defense earlier; that it both contained “Brady” material which would aid the defense, but also was not admissible as evidence against his client; and that McClendon arguably should not have been quizzed without an attorney present.

Detective Funk repeatedly alludes to a legal constraint that he is under, that the interview is supposed to be limited to information regarding the whereabouts of Cross—who at that point was still missing—and not the sealed indictment against McClendon which would be opened in court the next day. (As one legal expert noted to me this week, the pair were not technically fugitives from justice during their disappearance, because they had yet to be arraigned before a judge.)

Funk first reads McClendon his Miranda rights, which McClendon acknowledges, tells him he has a warrant for his arrest and an indictment from Columbia County court, and gives him a bottle of Pepsi. (Later, he offers to let him smoke out the window of the police station office.)

McClendon says that he has been in Hudson, not Albany. Funk says he is not going to ask about the case; but McClendon says he wants to know about the case. He says he doesn’t know what he’s been charged with, and Funk asks why he didn‘t come into talk sooner... From there it’s off to the races:

JM: I didn’t partake in anything. Really. I didn’t do nothin’. I just got out of jail... When I called here, you just had me on hold—I don’t know, two, three minutes. I just kept hanging up. What the fuck. If they wanted to talk, we could talk.

FUNK: I’ve been trying to find you since the 19th of March... You didn’t try that hard to come see me. I’ve known you, and I’ve always been straight with you.

FUNK: I’m not bullshitting you, I’ve got nothing to gain by lying to you. So since the 19th, when this investigation started, I’ve talked to one person, and I haven’t had a chance to speak with you. And unfortunately for you, you got drawn into it, after I spoke to one person—

McCLENDON: I got drawn into it? How the hell did I get drawn into it?

FUNK: I can’t really discuss the case with you, I can’t ask you specific quesitons. So I’m asking you, what you’ve heard since the 19th, when you heard that the cops are looking for you with a warrant. What did they say?

McCLENDON: I thought it was for, cause I got bailed out of jail, I thought it was for a ticket I had to pay, at first. No, they say, they want you for something serious. [Heard it from a] couple of girls on the street... And then, I saw my face in the paper, and I say, what the fuck? And I read it, and say, ‘Oh, my goodness.’ Then I spoke with Quintin, and he said, ‘Ain’t got nothin’ to worry about—they let me go.’ I was like, what the hell they even speaking to us for, what’d we do?

FUNK: What did he tell you? Plus, what did you read in the newspaper?

McCLENDON: He told me we were wanted for questioning... Not a big deal.

FUNK: Why wouldn’t you want to come here and clear your name?

McCLENDON: Because I’m scared to death. I got a long history.

FUNK: I know your history. You got nothing to be scared of.

McCLENDON: I got a lot to be scared of.

FUNK: Not if you—if you come in here, you ask for me, you could have asked for me specifically.

McCLENDON: Swear to God, you know how many times I came in here and asked for you?

FUNK: No, I don’t.

McCLENDON: Very many times, you and Delaney. They told me hold on... You know what they did? I’d just end up going to jail, because I just get feisty with them, or I have to get bailed out for somethin’ else.

FUNK: Or you take off running. Did you take off tonight?

McCLENDON: No, they just started off slammin’ me.

FUNK: Oh, jesus. Well.

McCLENDON: They just came in and started slammin’ me around.

FUNK: You alright?

McCLENDON: Yeah, I’m alright.

FUNK: Pissed off?

McCLENDON: Yeah. Yeah, I’m pissed off.

FUNK: You’re in a kind of a little bit of a pickle. What laywer you have representing ’ya? Public defender?

McCLENDON: I don’t have nothin’. I don’t even have a family. I just have me, really.

FUNK: Let me ask this. You know where Quintin is?

McCLENDON: Didn’t Quintin—wasn’t Quintin going to get a job in China?

FUNK: He was gone.

McCLENDON: I’m pretty sure he went.

FUNK: No, he didn't.

McCLENDON: I’m pretty sure he went.

FUNK: Really? When did he leave?

McCLENDON: I saw when he got on the bus... I don’t know, a day or two after see— not seeing you, a day or two after he came and tell you. Or did he come and see you? I don’t know who he saw.

FUNK: He saw me. I got stuck with this case. I got the short end on this one. For a while.

McCLENDON: And he got on the bus to go to Albany, said he got to go catch his plane. That was it.

FUNK: That’s the last you saw him and talk with him.

McCLENDON: And we went to go eat. I forgot where we went to eat, I dunno, Baba Louie’s or some shit like that. Somewhere on Warren Street.

FUNK: Hmm... After this all happened. I heard the big joke is that you can, you can literally walk into Hudson P.D. like that because we just let people go.

McCLENDON: What?

FUNK: Someone is putting that on Facebook. Unless you got a neon sign blinkin’ off and on, Hudson P.D. isn’t going to arrest you.

McCLENDON: I don’t know.

FUNK: You never hear that?

McCLENDON: Nah, I just know, I didn’t do shit. I just know that for a fact... I just... All this indictment shit, what happened at the prelim and the hearing? Where’s the evidence at? There can’t, there can’t be no evidence.

FUNK: Why?

McCLENDON: Because I didn’t do shit.

FUNK: Jamont. Let me ask you this... YOu made mre forget what I was going to say. Oh, I know what I was going to say. What I understand is, when they took you into custody, did you ask to speak to the Chief?

McCLENDON: Yeah.

FUNK: Now the Chief has given me the—the Chief trusts me enough to have me come in when I’m done working, to maybe speak to you. So I want you to think, I want you to think to yourself, that if you were going to speak to the Chief, I’m actually working on his behalf. And the Chief trusts me enough to speak to you about what you wanted to speak to him about.

McCLENDON: I was going to ask him the same questions. Like what’s going on, like why am I even in it?

FUNK: Why? What did Quintin tell ya?

McCLENDON: Quintin didn’t tell me shit.

FUNK: He sat right here [points] on his cell phone when I was talkin’to him.

McCLENDON: [Incredulous] What, Quintin did?

FUNK: Yup.

McCLENDON: And he told me somethin’?

FUNK: That’s what he said... He was on his cell phone the whole time.

McCLENDON: Talkin’ to me? I don’t think so.

FUNK: No? Then he was not being truthful to me... Alright.

McCLENDON: Cause know why?

FUNK: Why?

McCLENDON: I don’t even have a cell phone.

FUNK: Let me ask you this. We’re talking man-to-man here. If you don’t do something—

McCLENDON: He definitely... I’m pretty sure he got on that plane. I’m pretty sure.

FUNK: Well, then he must have got under on some other name, because I’m pretty sure we had all our bases covered, unless someone gave me bad info... Have you heard from him since he’s been in China?

McCLENDON: I spoke to him... when we’s on Facebook. But after that, just, he says he’s shutting his Facebook off.

FUNK: He turned it back on. I saw it on Friday.

McCLENDON: I don’t know... He’s not one of my friends. He probably got a different name.

McCLENDON: Me and Quintin, that’s one of my best friends, but we don’t really associate how we used to back in the day. ’Cause... We’re into two different type of things. You know? He’s not into what I’m into, like—

FUNK: What are you into and what’s he into?

McCLENDON: Basically, I’m broke, living house to house. He got a job and shit and he’s taking care of a home. He wants to go out and party and whatever, and I can’t do that, ’cause I don’t have it. You know? So I always go my other way; but if I ditch him, he'll be mad at me for like two, three weeks. You know?

FUNK: So, why, why does he hang out with you? Are you guys cousins? Or are you just friends?

McCLENDON: Naw, we just friends.

FUNK: Um, and he’s got, he goes to school, he’s got a job...

McCLENDON: Yeah, he got everything going for him.

FUNK: Yup. And what have you got going for you?

McCLENDON: I only have a kid to worry about. I was living good. I was living good, I just didn’t have no money. You know? I had enough to go pay for food and shit like that, I ain’t had enough to go and smoke some blunts and shit like that... I don’t smoke weed anyway, but—

FUNK: You like to tip ‘em back though, I know you like to drink.

McCLENDON: Yeah, I like to drink.

FUNK: You’ve been drinkin’ for along time.

McCLENDON: I go to Wunderbar...

FUNK: Who you go there with, Jamont, let me ask you?

McCLENDON: Um, a lot by myself. I know a lot of people, but I’m pretty much a loner.

FUNK: So you and Quintin, you’ve been friends, but you don’t really associate like you used to?

McCLENDON: Yeah, like we went out for his birthday, because his birthday was March 11th, and we pretty much hung that whole week... He said he going to fucking China to study and be a teacher. He said you going to hang with me for a couple of days, I’m like yeah, don’t ditch me. He’s like ‘Yo, if you need a place to stay, you can stay here...’ Because I just got out of jail, you can stay here. Mess with your old lady around the corner—he say you better stop messin’ with her, she’s too old. I don’t care.

FUNK: Older woman, that’s OK, that’s good for you... They’ve got that nurturing side, they want to be all nurture—take care of ’ya.

McCLENDON: Yeah.

FUNK: Now, when I had a chance to speak with him, he said you’re, you guys are around each other all the time.

McCLENDON: Yeah, but not lately, cause I’ve been in jail. Shit.

FUNK: Now he, you know, we both know Quintin, he’s a pretty popular guy—

McCLENDON: I see.. We see each other every day, every day, well almost every day, but we don’t... like, wehn he’s going to hang somewhere, like right now, I’m probably not going with him, I’m probably sitting with them for a few munites until they line up to go somewhere, ’cause where they go, or what they’re going to do costs money. If I’ve only got 50 bucks in my pocket, I’m not spending my last 50 bucks, because I know I got to provide for the next day... You know?

FUNK: If he was going to go hang somehwere right now, where would he go?

McCLENDON: Probably go to Wunderbar, or go... Or he likes to go other places, like Red Dot, American Glory...

FUNK: OK. Why’s he like to go to those bars?

McCLENDON: We got our hippie friends.

FUNK: Why’s he like to hang out there?

McCLENDON: Because they’re classy, they’re casual.

FUNK: There’s some money there.

McCLENDON: Some money there?

FUNK: They take care of, well, people, You know, classy—you’re going to drink good stuff, people are going to be buying you nice... So, he’s got, he’s got a network of friends that’s got money. He’s got a network of friends that got power. He knows people in the right places.

McCLENDON: Yeah, I don’t know about that.

FUNK: What do you mean you don’t know about that? ... He was a public servant. He got elected into office. And he held a position in city hall, so that tells me—

McCLENDON: So you think they’re hiding him?

FUNK: Who?

McCLENDON: Is that what you’re thinking?

FUNK: You never know.

McCLENDON: I don’t know.

FUNK: I don’t know about that. But my point being—

McCLENDON: But I think, if he was going to go... I don’t know.

FUNK: Wunderbar, American Glory. Red Dot.

McCLENDON: We got a bunch of hippie friends, shit like that.

FUNK: Mmm-hmm, mmm-hmm... Where did you go, where’s his best, most favorite place to hang out.

McCLENDON: Probably at the bars.

FUNK: Which bar? Savoia? Ever hang out at the Savoia?

McCLENDON: Not often.

FUNK: Why?

McCLENDON: ’Cause, I just don’t like to go down there myself, I can’t say why... Too much shit happens there.

FUNK: Like what? [Crosstalk]

McCLENDON: You tell me what kind of stuff that happens there.

FUNK: I don’t go to Savoia!

McCLENDON: You a cop, it ain’t like you don’t know. You been here forever.

FUNK: [Laughs] Seems like forever.

McCLENDON: —that bullshit to me.

FUNK: [Laughs] Well, I just wanted to find out if that’s why you don’t go down there, too many problems with people down there.

McCLENDON: I don’t really have problems with anybody.

[Funk then tries to turn this conversation toward the upcoming indictment, and use the foundation laid above to pit McClendon and Cross against each other by implying that McClendon will be made to take the fall for his friend. However, McClendon doesn’t bite on the gambit.]

FUNK: Let me ask you this. Knowing who Quintin is, and knowing the people Quintin knows , and let’s just say, this whole indictment thing, when they open up this indictment, you’re going to be the first one. You’re going to be the first one that they’re going to see... Jamont McClendon. What’s he do? He don’t have a job. He’s got a kid. He—and this will be their words—he’s got a kid, he don’t work, he’s just drawin’ off of everybody else. Never had a job, never really amounted to much. And I’m just saying, this is what people are going to start thinking. Then you get—here’s Jamont McClendon, he gets caught up, here’s Quintin Cross. Suit, tie, got a lawyer with him, he was an elected official in Hudson. He’s got friends at the Red Dot. He’s got political friends, he’s got friends with money. What’s he going to say when he comes to court? What are they going to say about him? What? If this really happened, what they said in the newspaper, who are they going to believe? If he says he didn’t do it, and you say you didn’t do something... He didn’t do something, you didn’t do something. Who are they going to believe? The guy who’s goin’ to China, or got a nice political position somewhere, got a job, got this, got that, knows the right way to do it—or this poor kid right here?

McCLENDON: I want to tell you this. We didn’t do shit at all. I don’t even know how we’re linked to this.

FUNK: I’m just saying, Jamont, if—

McCLENDON: Out of all the people in the world, us two? Out of all the people in the world.

FUNK: Well? My thing is, who are they gonna, when it comes down to a finger-pointing thing, who are they going to believe, Jamont?

McCLENDON: I don’t care what they believe, because I didn't—

FUNK: I’m just saying, I’m just saying. Think of it this way. You just said a little bit ago, you’ve got a family and a wife and a kid to worry about.

McCLENDON: Yeah, but I’m living good though, so I don’t really care about—

FUNK: How are you going to feel when your own best friend, he going to turn his back on you. Because you’re going to jail, he ain't, right now. Because you’re Jamont, Jamont McClendon. And this is Quintin. The other guy who’s in hiding.

McCLENDON: Well, look in China, and bring him back.

FUNK: And what’s he gonna say?

McCLENDON: I don’t know what he’s gonna say. But I know he’s going to be like, why are we even here?

FUNK: He knows why. He knows why he’s here. He knows why, that’s why he took off, and that’s why he left. He knows exactly why. And I'd be hard-pressed to believe to that you don’t know why.

McCLENDON: So why didn’t I take off then?

FUNK: Because you’re smart enough to come in here and say, I didn’t do something. I didn’t have anything to do with it. You got caught up downstreet, that’s the only reason you’re even here. Because this who thing would have just kept going on and on, and I would have to go sit in front of the church tomorrow, when Leslie’s being laid out, looking for you and him.

McCLENDON: If I was going to run, I could have been left. You guys would’ve never found me. Not in a million years.

FUNK: No? Why do you say that. You’re probably right.

McCLENDON: I know I’m right. You guys would have never found me. But I don’t want to lve my life like that. I do petty shit. I don’t pay fines, shit like that. I don’t really commit real crimes.

FUNK: What’s a real crime?

McCLENDON: Like felonies, shit like that. That’s a real crime.

FUNK: Mmm-hmmm. Why don’t you?

McCLENDON: Because, like, why would I?

FUNK: I don’t know! That’s what I’m here to ask.

McCLENDON: I’m asking questions and you’re not answering none of my questions.

FUNK: Yes, I am.

McCLENDON: No you’re not, you’re beating around the bush. I want to know what’s going on.

FUNK: I, I, I can only tell you so much. I can’t get into specifics. I can call Albany, because Albany P.D.’s looking for you, so’s Troy, and you’re going to be all over the news. You’re going to have your 15 minutes of fame. So... I thought you might have an idea of where Quintin’s hiding out. That’s what I wanted to find out.

McCLENDON: I have no idea. Does Quintin have an indictment?

FUNK: What’s it say in the paper? There’s a warrant for him, right?

McCLENDON: I don’t know. I don’t read the paper much.

FUNK: Everybody knows. You got to be the only one that don’t know.

McCLENDON: Yeah, cause the paper is fucking depressing. I don’t really read the paper...

FUNK: Hmm. Good news don’t sell.

McCLENDON: First thing you open up to is obituaries.

FUNK: As long as your name ain’t in there. Right? I keep looking for mine. Thank god I ain’t been in there yet. ... I want to find out where Quintin is. Or give me a phone number, or someone who would know wehere he is. He ain’t in China, I can tell you that. I know he’s not in China.

McCLENDON: I’m pretty sure he is. I was—I sat right there on Front Street when he left on the bus, and I just walked away.

FUNK: I can get on the bus, and drive up to Price Chopper, and get off the bus right there. How do you get out of the country, Jamont? Let me ask you that—

McCLENDON: He got a passport. Alright? He already had it set up and everything. He had a plane ticket and everything. Everything.

FUNK: Mmm-hmm. OK. You ever heard of Homeland Security? You watch the news. They go after terrorists and shit?

McCLENDON: You call Homeland Security?

FUNK: Maybe we did.

McCLENDON: See, there you go, beating around the bush again [laughing].

FUNK: You’re smart. You’re smarter than that. ... You think I’m half-assing what I’m doing here? I know he didn’t go to China, and I know he’s going to be coming back to Hudson, ’cause he put it on Facebook. I just thought maybe you'd go out of your way to help me out, to maybe give me an idea where he might be. Give me a cell phone number... Because I’m going to tell you something kid, and I hate to say this, hear me out. That little scenario I gave you, who they going to believe, Quintin or Jamont. And don’t take this the wrong way. They ain’t going to believe shit you have to say. ’Cause right now is your opportunity to say, well, why should you be sitting in jail, while he’s out going to the Red Dot and trying to be the victim? You’re going to be the bad guy, you’re going to be the street kid, the thug ont he street that got caught. He’s going to come waltzing in, looking like someone he’s not, and he’s going to come out smelling like a rose. You'll go to prison, and he'll get friggin’probation, if it even goes that far. ’Cause you’re Jamont McClendon, and he’s Quintin Cross, and I’m telling you face to face the way I see it. What I see comin'. And I don’t want to see that happen, because you may not necessarily be the culpable, the most culpable person? You know what that means?

McCLENDON: Yeah, I know what that means, but like I said, I didn’t do nothin’ at all. At all.

FUNK: I’m not asking you what you did. I know what happened. I know what happened that night.

McCLENDON: So what happened that night then?

FUNK: You’re going to find out tomorrow. You don’t want to tell me where Quintin is, I can’t, I’m not going to tell you what I know.

McCLENDON: I really don’t know where Quintin is.

FUNK: Somebody knows where he is. I think you know, I bet you know somebody.

McCLENDON: Why don’t you ask one of his family members?

FUNK: We have. You think they’re going to tell me? ... According to him, you guys do everything together. This is what he said.

[...]

McCLENDON: And know what, when I talk to Ellis, I’s going to tell him that the same thing. He’s out of the country. Cause that’s what he said he was going to do. But I didn’t want to tell nobody but Ellis.

FUNK: Well, I’m here because on Ellis’, the Chief’s be—I got to call him the Chief because he’s my boss and I have respect for him. My job is to find out what I can from you that you would tell him. Because he don’t need to get involved. He’s the Chief of Police, that’s not his job. I’m here to do the job, to make Ellis—

McCLENDON: I’ve known him all my life, though.

FUNK: You don’t think he would look out for you? He wouldn’t put his career on the line, he wouldn’t do anything he’s not supposed to.

McCLENDON: I don’t expect him to. He got a job description...

FUNK: And I’m not kissing his ass, but he’ll give everybody two, three, four chances. If you keep fucking it up, then you’re going to pay for it.

McCLENDON: I never got a chance from you guys at all.

FUNK: That’s what—you ain’t never got a chance from me?

McCLENDON: Yeah, from you, maybe.

FUNK: Maybe! I’ve always been good to you. If you run, I’ve always told you, I’m not going to run after you. I’m going to catch you sooner or later. And I caught you, they got you tonight. And I wanted to talk to you when this all went down, this other thing went down, I says I got to talk to Jamont. And I sat right there, and I sat and told your friend right there, when he sat right there, and I said ‘where’s Jamont’ and he said ‘I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know.’ I don’t know. So now guess what. You don’t even have the opportunity he had, the got chance he to come in here and tell me what happened. And he got up, and he walked out the door. You’re sitting here in handcuffs, I can’t get in the dis—to tell you what I know... It would make things that much easier, Jamont, if I had the opportunity—so if he told you, to get the fuck out of here, or other people should get out, then they all fucked you, and you’re sitting here, and he’s out doing whatever he’s doing.

McCLENDON: He never told me to go anywhere. He just told me don’t worry about nothin’.

FUNK: You know what? He didn’t give you good advice. But I’m telling you, you would have come in here that same day, and you would have walked right out of here. Just like he did. Not that I’m playin—not that he got any special favor, he had the opportunity to tell me what happened. You got fucked, and didn’t get the opportunity to come tell me what happened. Because now I gotta watch what I say and ask certain things that you want to say, because my hands are tied now. And I would love to hear what you have to say other than ‘I didn’t do anything.’ Come on, Jamont, I didn’t pick you out of thin air. You know I’ve been around, I been here forever.

McCLENDON: All I know, somethin’s up.

FUNK: Mmm-hmm.

McCLENDON: I need to know what’s up.

FUNK: You need to give me, tell me something, and can tell, I’ll tell you whatever I can. But I can’t tell, I can’t get into detail, and even discuss the other par—I don’t want to talk about Jamont. I want to know where Quintin might be... or I want to know who Quintin might be hanging out with. Or what was discussed after. Because I already know what led up to you, to you and Quintin, or Quintin leaving for CHina, and you just being around town. I know what led up to that on the 19th, I know what happened on the 19th, which was a Monday night, or Monday morning. I know what happened. So does he. Now, you know what? If he didn’t tell you, then he really stuck it to you, because he knows what happened. So you’re on your own to figure out what the fuck happened that night.

McCLENDON: He tell me he was questioned about somethin’, and that was it.

FUNK: Questioned about what?

McCLENDON: He say, he was questioned about somethin’. I don—Somethin’ took place, and I was implicated, and he was implicated. I said what, he say he didn’t want to discuss it now. Then he start talkin’ to his mother, and then he start talkin’ to his baby mother, his kid mother.

FUNK: The one up in Albany?

McCLENDON: Yeah. And then, did you check there? You checked there.

FUNK: First floor apartment, on S—Street?

McCLENDON: I don’t know exactly where she lives... [Crosstalk] And then...

FUNK: But just so you know, all, I’ve got detectives, they’r watching it, they’ve got his picture... But I’m thinking he’s going to come down and pay his respects to Leslie, his aunt. And let me tell you what, if you don’t pay your respects to his dead aunt, what kind of person, what kind of man does that tell you he’s going to be?

McCLENDON: Yeah, but you basically just want to catch him. You don’t care.

FUNK: What?

McCLENDON: You don’t care if he goes there.

FUNK: Yes I do. Yes I do. Cuz, let me ask, if he was incarcerated, and his aunt died, you mean to tell me he wouldn’t want to go? Guys do that shit all the time, Jamont. I know that. Whether they like him or not. But right now, he’s scared, he don’t know what to do. You got caught. Tell me he don’t know. He knows you’re here. He’s sweating right now, being afraid of what you’re going to tell me. You know what? Maybe he should be. I wasn’t there that night, but I know what happened. You guys were there.

McCLENDON: Where were we?

FUNK: At his house on 5th Street.

McCLENDON: Yeah, we were. We were sitting there on the porch, getting drunk. A bunch of people where there—

FUNK: Fryin’ turkeys. Right? Fried turkey?

McCLENDON: How the fuck did you know that?

FUNK: Who the fuck are you talking to, kid? I don’t know everything, but I kn—just so you know.

McCLENDON: So you all were watching this?

FUNK: No-ho. I was home in bed, Jamont. I got called at 6:30 in the morning to come in here. I’m in bed at 10 o’clcok at night on a good night. But I do my job, and I ask questions. And that’s what I gotta do. And unfortunately or fortunately, however, you want to look at it, my direction, I get led to certain places.

McCLENDON: Yeah.

FUNK: I don’t wanna see you in an any worse situation you are right now. I want to know—I would love to know what you know right now. But... What I want to—about what happened that night. Because I’d love to hear your version of it, other than ‘I don’t know, I don’t know,’ because I know you know. Anyway. I want to know where Ja—where—if Quintin wasn’t in China, if he was in the, if he wasn’t have this world trip lanned, where he might be, where he might go, other than his baby’s mother’s house up on, up in Albany.

McCLENDON: Check in any one of his family’s house.

FUNK: OK, I can ch—

McCLENDON: We’re not related, people just think we are.

FUNK: I thought you were his cousin.

McCLENDON: No, people just think we are.

FUNK: Are you related to the Chief? I heard you’re his cousin, too.

McCLENDON: The Chief?

FUNK: Chief’s your cousin?

McCLENDON: Nnnnnn...

FUNK: Alright. I tell you what, Jamont, I hear a million different stories.

McCLENDON: Yeah, but that’s what you should do. He got sisters, he got brothers.

[They discuss Cross’s brothers, sisters and other relatives, and where they live]

FUNK: Where would you go?

McCLENDON: I have no place to go.

[Funk again tries the strategy of pitting Cross against McClendon]

FUNK: I wanted to get your version, because I, I would believe you, over, over... And I’m not shittin’ ya. Because you’ve got a lot to—like I said, they’ll look at you, and say fuck him, pardon my French. Fuck, you know what? Jamont, he’s got, what’s he gonna do? What’s he going to amount to in society, where, this kid here is going to go to China, teach people how to speak English. They don’t give two shits about guys like you. I hate to say it.

McCLENDON: I know they do.

FUNK: That’s the bullshit part of it. And I’ll tell you another thing, and this aint me talkin’, I’m just telling you what I see. You don’t, cause, when it boils down to it, it’s, it’s you or me. And I say that hypothet—as a hypothetically, it’s going to be either him or you. You know what, fuck, Jamont, you’re my man, I ain’t gonna, I’m not going, I’m going to use what people I know, and this going is to fall on you. And I’ve seen it for a long time, Jamont, I’ve been around, I’ve been around enough to see guys do it on a regular basis. And I don’t want to see this happen to you. Cause like you say, you get drunk, you might run, get in a fight here or there, get a resist cahrge, whatever. But it’s never been a felony where you’re going to wind up going to prison. You’re not the prison guy. You’re not a prison guy. And I’m not saying Quintin is, iether, But I know Quintin’s smart enough to say, let’s see, me, or Quintin—or, me, or Jamont. You’re going to use everything—

McCLENDON: I don’t even have the type of record he has.

FUNK: It don’t matter, bud. It don’t matter. You know peopl—If you didn’t know Quintin, would you go stand out, hanging out at the Red Dot?

McCLENDON: Yeah, I would actually.

FUNK: Would you really?

McCLENDON: Yeah, that’s just my style. See that’s the thing about you, they gave you wrong because of my appearance.

FUNK: There you go.

McCLENDON: That’s the thing about it.

FUNK: There you go. Because when this comes to court, and it goes before a jury, you’re going to sit there and they’re going to to just that. It aint’ nothing to do with the color of your skin. It ain’t got anything to do but who you know. That’s what it all boils down to in life. It’s who you know, and who, and the connections that you—

McCLENDON: What are even the charges?

FUNK: I don’t know, it’s an indictment.

McCLENDON: You can’t tell me the charges. C’mon, you know you know.

FUNK: It’s charging you with a felony, a sealed indictment number.

McCLENDON: A sealed indictment? Ain’t that drugs?

FUNK: No. Not drugs. What did Quintin tell you?

McCLENDON: Huh? ... Quintin said we took something. He ain’t told me from where, he didn’t ell me where.

FUNK: C’mon, Jamont. You know what he said.

McCLENDON: Quintin is very secretive, and he like, and he smiled about it like, these motherfucking, like they keep tryin’ me, he like, cause he got a lawsuit on it, or some shit like that from the last time, because he got falsely accused—

FUNK: Who did!

McCLENDON: Y’all didn’t falsely accuse him. But y’all sent him upstate illegally.

FUNK: I didn’t send anybody upstate.

McCLENDON: He said, so they trying to get to all of us. He was like, but don’t you worry about it, I got somethin’ for ’em.

FUNK: He’s got something for us?

McCLENDON: Yeah.

FUNK: Uh-oh. Like what?

McCLENDON: That’s what he said.

FUNK: Someone gonna shoot me and kill me?

McCLENDON: Nah.

FUNK: I hope not.

McCLENDON: He’s not like that. He know politics. He’ll play politics, you know.

FUNK: YOu know, the hwole race thing? Cause he told me, the only reason I brought him in was cause I think all black people look alike. You think I’m racist?

McCLENDON: No, I don’t think you’re racist.

FUNK: You think I’m prejudiced?

McCLENDON: Nah.

FUNK: I don’t discriminate against nobody, Jamont.

McCLENDON: I think you got the wrong person. You need to let me up out of thses cuffs. I know that.

FUNK: [Laughs] I can’t do that.

McCLENDON: I know that.

FUNK: I think, I gotta get into it.

McCLENDON: I think the rest of them might be racist, though?

FUNK: Do you really?

McCLENDON: Yeah, especially the—who’s the fuckin’ D.A. again?

FUNK: Who, Czajka?

McCLENDON: Yeah, definitely.

FUNK: He ain’t racist. What’s a racist to you?

McCLENDON: Hate for somethin’ else. It don’t have to be a skin color. It can be a demeanor, it can be a demeanor, it can be anything.

FUNK: Do you hate me?

McCLENDON: No. Why would I even be talkin’ to ya?

[...]

McCLENDON: Been out of jail a couple of weeks.

FUNK: [laughing] Well, guess what, bud? You’re going to be going back tonight. I just wanted to find out what you might know or what you wanted to talk to the Chief about. I think that—go ahead.

[...]

McCLENDON: I would have came here, but my record and everything, sometimes people don’t want to hear shit

FUNK: I’d come pick you up, if you called me... I wanted to find out what happened before I had to get an indictment, before I had to sit in front of the grand jury and presented my evidence. And they found there was enough to indict. You think I like doing what I gotta—there’s days where I hate doing what I gotta do. Cause you’re not a, I don’t think you’re a hardened criminal. You’re just a guy that gets fucked up and then does foolish things.

McCLENDON: This is gonna go very far, cuz I’m not just going to let them accuse me of something that—nah, it’s not gonna happen.

FUNK: ALright. I’ve lost some, I win some, and I don’t consider it a win. I’ve had convictions and I’ve had acquittals. they call them wins and losses. Cause when I put, when someone goes to jail, bad people belong in jail and go to prison.. There are a few bad ones there who should be there that aren’t. You’re not one of the bad ones. Like I said, you get caught up in stuff that you don’t normally, that normally you wouldn’t do. And at times I think that you get led to believe that it’s going to be all right because of who you are, who you’re with. I don’t want this to be one of those situations. I would like to know where Quintin would be...

McCLENDON: You’re asking me all these questions, but you’re not answering none of mine... You gotta know what the charge is. You said you worked the case. You definitely know what the charge is.

FUNK: I was asked questions in front of the grand jury, which I’m not allowed to discuss. The grand jury is a secret preceding. The D.A. and all the grand jurors discuss the evidence, and what can be charged. That’s why it’s a sealed indictment.

McCLENDON: I just want to know what the charge is.

FUNK: What’d the newspaper say.

McCLENDON: [Long pause] I don’t remember what the newspaper said, or I wouldn’t be asking you. I want some for real shit, I just want to know what the charges are.

FUNK: Well, hold on a second...

McCLENDON: You got a newspaper in here?

FUNK: ... I’ve got a copy of it. [To Officer] You got the packet in there? [Funk steps out for several minutes] Now, this is what was in the newspaper. [They sit side-by-side and look at a paper]

McCLENDON: Burglary at the City Hall? What?

FUNK: So there ain’t no drug stuff—

McCLENDON: Can they just say that?

FUNK: That’s what I’m investigating.

McCLENDON: You couldn’t just say that?

FUNK: You asked me what the warrant said. What’s the warrant say?

McCLENDON: How could they say that?

[...]

FUNK: So that’s what’s in the newspaper. ... They’re taking advantage—you’re being taken advantage of, whether you believe it or not. You’re getting bad information. You’re going to be the fall guy on this, Jamont, I’m telling you. I’m telling you as I sit right here—

McCLENDON: Third degree burglary.

FUNK: Yup.

McCLENDON: At City Hall. For third degree burglary. What the hell was taken?

FUNK: Property.

McCLENDON: Like what?

FUNK: What do you think? What are you gonna bur—what are you going to steal when—

McCLENDON: [Incredulous] What the hell could you take from City Hall? Only thing I ever went there for was a birth certificate.

FUNK: I don’t know. I don’t know what goes through people’s heads.

McCLENDON: Oh, my goodness.

FUNK: All I’m saying is, all that stuff I said to you before, I meant what I said. You put these two guys side-by-side, sittin’ in court. You have a right to go to a trial, which would be a good idea. But who are they going to look at, who are they going to believe, who are they going to look at? The former alderman, the scholar going to China? Jamont McClendon, lengthy criminal record. Doesn’t really do much. So when, I say all of that because, when this all comes out, there’s a story to be told. He’s going to have a story, and you’re going to have a story. The jurty’s going to be able to say, let’s see, tlet’s think this over here... He’s got a lot going for him. This guy... Cause at a trial that all gets brought out. He got bad checks, or used a credit card. What’s this guy done? What’s he done? They don’t care?

McCLENDON: Yeah.

FUNK: He’s got a ten-page rap sheet. He’s got a felony. You’re smart. Ahh, credit card. Oh, this guy—assault. Resisting. Assault. Resisting. Escape. Holy shit.

McCLENDON: Yeah, I know.

FUNK: This is a bad... He’s the ringl—he made this guy do something he didn’t want to do. That’s what I’m saying I see coming down the road. That’s what you need to think about in your head. [...] He told you, don’t worry about. I got in a little trouble, and I walked out. Here you sit, and he’s somewhere doing this, wondering ‘what’s Jamont telling the police?’

McCLENDON: I don’t know, man. I wish I knew where he was. Man, oh, man. Lying motherfucker.

FUNK: [...] I feel bad, because you’re in a shitty situation. I don’t want to see you get fucked because of somebody else.

[...]

FUNK: I’m just thinking out loud. As people that don’t do this.

McCLENDON: He told me he’s going to China. That was the whole week. That was the only reason I was with him for the few days. We had a cookout. We had some friends in front of his house, there were a bunch of us, there were people there I didn’t even know. I think a couple days before that we was at Savoia’s, we had the birthday party at Savoia.

FUNK: Kind of like a going-away party.

McCLENDON: Yeah. You know. That was it.

FUNK: So that Monday afternoon, when you were at his mother’s house. After he left here.

McCLENDON: Monday afternoon?

FUNK: That Monday, when he came to the police station, when I talked to him. Alright. What did he say to you after he left here?

McCLENDON: He just said... Well, first of all, he didn’t even tell me he went at first. He just said, ‘Oh, these motherfuckers picked me up for some bullshit.’ I said, what do you mean? And he said, um, he said me and you did something. He’s like, but don’t worry about it. I said, Did what? He’s like, ‘took something.’ He’s like ‘You never took nothing a day in your life, and I know I didn’t take nothing. These crackers is trying to get me again. And I ain’t falling for the bullshit.’ I said what he do then, he said asked questions. I said, what it had to do with me? ... They said you showed him some pictures. Somebody did, said, is that Jamont? He’s like, what you talk about, is that Jamont? That ain’t Jamont. And he was like, well, we think it’s Jamont, you should tell him to come in. And then he said, he said... Or he laughed and made another cracker joke.

FUNK: A cracker joke?

McCLENDON: Yeah.

FUNK: What is it? Tell me.

McCLENDON: He said to me another cracker joke.

FUNK: You can tell, I won’t be insulted.

McCLENDON: No, I don’t like that type of shit, you know. And I was at my aunt’s house, and I go to my girl. Fuckin’ [name redacted]—didn’t tell me no shit. And then he was like, well, we should go out to eat [and] to a movie. ... We left, we went to American Glory, had a few drinks, and then we left and went to Baba Louie’s. And then we partied a little bit, and the next day, he got on a bus.

FUNK: [...] So you went out that night?

McCLENDON: No, we were at people’s houses, though. We weren’t at bars and shit.

FUNK: Did he say anything about worrying about getting picked up, getting arrested?

McCLENDON: No, I wouldn’t be fuckin’ walkin’ around like that.

FUNK: I didn’t think so. And then you saw him get on the bus.

McCLENDON: And that was it.

FUNK: And that was the last time you spoke with him?

McCLENDON: That was the last time I spoke with him. I saw his phone number was [redacted]. But there’s no point [calling], because he turned it off.

[...]

FUNK: So he got on the bus down on Front Street [on Tuesday]?

McCLENDON: On Front Street, yeah.

FUNK: What bus goes down there? [Crosstalk] To go up to Albany?

McCLENDON: Yeah. It only costs $5.50.

FUNK: Oh, so it’s like the commuter bus...

McCLENDON: You didn’t know that?

FUNK: Hell no, Jamont. I never worked in Albany. I’ve been working here my whole life.

FUNK: You talked to him on Facebook? ...

McCLENDON: Yeah. But I talked to him through my little brother’s Facebook.

FUNK: You know what Jamont, I’m just going to give you a little advice. ANd I give this advice to a lot of people, including my own family. What you decide to do now is a hard decision to make. But. The hardest decisions are usually the right decisions to make.

McCLENDON: Yeah, but, you really think I know where he is, and I don’t.... Why wouldn’t I tell you? At this point, I wouldn’t really give a fuck.

FUNK: Did he tell you everything that you needed to know? Did he tell you all that?

McCLENDON: No, he didn’t.

FUNK: What did he say?

McCLENDON: Selfish bastard. He just said that you showed him a few pictures, and you said that looked like Jamont. He basically gave me the impression that you guys looking for me for somethin’. I said, I didn’t do shit. ... He didn’t exactly tell me. If he exactly told me, with that situation, that shit at City Hall, I’d be like, ‘oh, shit.’

FUNK: City Hall, think about it. That’s high profile. That’s an important thing, that’s the City government.

FUNK: When he gets picked up, it’s all going to fall on you...

McCLENDON: If he really went to China, he’s not getting picked up.

FUNK: Well, he didn’t go to China, I can tell ’ya.

McCLENDON: Where the hell that gonna leave me?

FUNK: Yup.

McCLENDON: I didn’t do shit. I didn’t. No. I will go all the way with this...

FUNK: I hope you do.

McCLENDON: I don’t burglarize. I don’t. ... So you’re saying I broke into a building, but didn’t take nothing?

FUNK: I’m not saying you broke into any building. I’m saying what a burglary is.

McCLENDON: I know what you’re not saying, and I know what you are saying, but I know what’s being said. ... So we broke into a building, but didn’t take anything? Get the fuck outta here... I don’t believe this is going to go very far.

FUNK: Maybe it won’t Jamont.

McCLENDON: But you know, Czajka’s in office, so he’s probably going to want to send us somewhere...

FUNK: Only where the evidence goes...

McCLENDON: I never broke into a building. And there’s no evidence on me.

FUNK: OK.

McCLENDON: None.

McCLENDON: Did you collect the evidence?

FUNK: Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t.

McCLENDON: Well, I tell you, maybe Mr. Funk, you’re wrong.

FUNK: I’ve been wrong before, bud.

McCLENDON: Huh. You haven’t been wrong much, though.

FUNK: No?

McCLENDON: Oh, that’s the problem. [Points at surveillance camera] We can’t even really talk in here. We can’t even really have a conversation.

FUNK: [Laughs] Yes, we can. That’s here for me, really. So I don’t say anything inappropriate.

McCLENDON: I wish I knew where that motherfucker was. Because I would have came when he came. I didn’t think it was that serious, you know? Cause by the way he said it, it was just so... He was just so fluffy with it, that...

FUNK: He wasn’t concerned about it.

McCLENDON: Then a couple days later, when I saw the paper, and he’s in China, I’m like holy shit. I’m like damn, for real? [Pretends to be holding a phone] Said, can I speak to the detective? Who am I speaking to? I have to speak to a detective? Then I hung up. Then I do it again? Can I speak to somebody? Hold on, one minute please? ... Not going to let them GPS where I am. If I’m going to come, I’m going to come. Not going to happen. So then I’m thinking like, damn, what the fuck? Hold up, I didn’t do nothin’, no! ... Then I’m thinking, what am I gonna do? So I said, fuck it. I stayed at my girl’s house, but then I said, I’m not gonna stay here, I don’t want to get you in trouble. ... Everybody don’t have the same heart as you [meaning Funk]. They gonna send somebody else there, and it’s gonna turn into something else. ...

FUNK: That ain’t true.

McCLENDON: You cops are grimy... I know I ran a lot, but what would you do if I jumped in my car and just started running toward you.

FUNK: I’d probably run, too.

McCLENDON: They provoke it. [...]

FUNK: They’ve got a job to do, too, Jamont. ... If everyone was like me, guys would be getting away with stuff all the time. Because I like to believe what people tell me. Believe it or not. I’m naïve enough to believe that guys are being honest to me. That’s my fatal flaw. And I’ll always be the way I am.

FUNK: I know you kept your head down low because you didn’t want it to escalate to what you said. As soon as someone saw ’ya, this is what was going to happen.

McCLENDON: I’m really being arrested because y’all haven’t seen us. It went to the grand jury because you haven’t seen us. Is that it? Basically?

FUNK: No! No.

McCLENDON: Yeah. Yeah. Hell yeah. That’s basically it. Cause you put your back to the wall, and you’re like, fuck, you know?

FUNK: Put my back to the wall? Nah.

McCLENDON: Or whatever. ‘Fuck, let’s send the paperwork further, I think we should do it.’ You probably had everybody else up your asses, saying this, and that, and this and that. And just got tired of it. That’s probably what happened.

FUNK: I look at it this way. Nobody got killed. Nobody—You didn’t rob a bank. The building didn’t get blown up... What happened, happened. It could have been a heck of a lot worse. By my whole point was to talk to you to find out what you knew that day when I spoke to Quintin, my next person to speak to, you can ask anybody, I need to speak to Jamont. You can ask anybody. I wanted to talk to you more than I wanted to talk to him. Because I believed that you would have been honest, more honest to me, than Quintin was honest to me that day. I’ve never dealt with Quintin. That was the first time I had a face-to-face conversation. I can talk to you. Cuase I gain nothing by bullshitting or lying to you.

McCLENDON: Right. ... He said that you showed him a picture of me. Like, somebody took a picture of something... And said it was me. And I said, ‘What?’ I said, yeah, right, I never left your house. But he said, well that’s what he said. The way he acts, you’ve got to laugh about what he does, but...

FUNK: Listen, I have a good sense of humor. However it was said. I have a job to do, I have evidence that I collect and I pick up and I go where the evidence leads me. Now... No, I can’t even go there.

McCLENDON: Yes, you should.

FUNK: Nah. I can’t. I can’t. I don’t want to jeopardize anything. And I don’t want to get you in trouble, and I definitely don’t want to get me in trouble.

McCLENDON: There’s nobody here [in Hudson]. It’s a bunch of little kids, or people from fuckin’ New York, or—

FUNK: Why do they all come up here, may I ask you? You ever hear them talkin’, why they like it here so much?

McCLENDON: Yeah.

FUNK: Why?

McCLENDON: Because the drugs are cheaper down there and they can sell them more for up here.

FUNK: Still? That’s still the #1 reason?

McCLENDON: Some people, it’s just for better livin’. Because like us, they don’t want to go through the bullshit down there.

FUNK: There’s bullshit no matter where you go.

McCLENDON: It’s cheaper to live here.

FUNK: Yeah, I’ll give them that. I’ll give them that. So listen, you don’t want to tell me no more? Because I’m going to call the D.A. when I’m done talking to ya. Let him know that, you know, you talked to me for a good hour-and-a-half.

McCLENDON: I don’t know, I’m trying to think on it now. Could I have a tissue please?

FUNK: Hang on to that.

McCLENDON: [blows nose] ... I need my last cigarette before I go to jail forever.

FUNK: I can get you a cigarette. You ain’t going to jail forever.

McCLENDON: Yeah, it seems like it.

FUNK: It just seems like it now.

[They move next to the office window, where McClendon smokes a cigarette]

FUNK: When this talk started about leavin...

McCLENDON: I wasn’t talkin’ bout going to leave. He made everything sound like it was going to be OK.

FUNK: He sugarcoated everything, to make you think that it was no big deal like—

McCLENDON: He embellished it, like, what the fuck? I’m thinkin’ that now.

FUNK: I’ve got more, you don’t have to smoke it down to the filter. Now, you’re hippy friends out in Harlemville, would he go out to Harlemville?

McCLENDON: Yeah, they’d protect him. They’d protect him.

McCLENDON: Why am I so important in the inquiry?

FUNK: There’s what happened, and there’s what’s being told what happened. Somewhere in between, someone is going to tell, someone’s going to say what happened... The true, honest, what happened. And I believe that is you... I don’t want to see you sit in jail like you’re public enemy #1 and him walking around like I’m something better than that. Because when it all boils down we’re all the same...

McCLENDON: I didn’t go in that building. I didn’t do anything. ... In fact, there was a cop sitting on the corner [the night of the burglary, when they were partying on the porch; obvious worn down, McClendon alleges that cocaine was present at the party.]

FUNK: You’re not a bad guy, you’re not a bad person. We all make mistakes. A guy told me years ago, that’s why they put erasers on pencils.

EXCLUSIVE: The Cross Dossier

2013-02-05T14:49:54-05:00

EXHIBIT A: The Hudson police interview of Quintin Cross, conducted on the afternoon of March 19th, 2012

News broke on December 10th of last year that a second grand jury had declined to press charges against Quintin Cross and Jamont McClendon in Hudson’s high-profiile City Hall burglary case. Since then, many have wondered: What caused the case against them to fall apart?

The pair had disappeared on the afternoon of March 19th, shortly after a first grand jury’s vote led to the issuance of warrants for their arrest. Though the burglary involved less than $100, the pungeant combination of a City Hall break-in, Cross’s felony plea for misusing a City credit card, and their sudden disappearance generated intense media interest and a widespread impression that the two had something to hide.

In early April, the Hudson police discovered McClendon camped out in a State Street house. Meanwhile, during his six-week disappearance Cross found a high-powered lawyer (with the help of Time & Space Limited’s Linda Mussmann) before eventually turning himself in.

While previously he pled guilty to a fourth degree grand larceny charge related to improper charges on a City of Hudson credit card, Cross has in this case insisted on his innocence, while also raising issues of social justice, race and fairness in the New York police and court systems. Cross is now heading up a new nonprofit organization called The Staley B. Keith Social Justice Center, named for another former Hudson alderman.

The collapse of the case raises many additional questions. Were the wrong two people accused, or did the pair skate on a legal technicality? If innocent, why did they flee? Does the City really have what it has termed an “open investigation” of the burglary, or does it have more of an interest in burying the matter? And, with another local election season in the offing, will the defunct case now live on as a political football, —tossed around in the Fall Mayor’s race, or used to reshape the future of the Hudson Police Department?

In the context of such lingering questions, this site has had on-again, off-again discussions over the past month with Quintin Cross about taping a live interview, possibly with the help of professional videographer Lance Wheeler.

While Cross has decided to hold off on such an interview for now, the former Hudson alderman has offered something potentially far more explosive and illuminating: Access to a large trove of documents and digital assets gathered by his defense in an effort to rebut charges that he burglarized City Hall.

This dossier provides a glimpse into both the planned strategy for defending Cross against the (now-dismissed) charges, and also into the materials obtained by his defense from the prosecution via the legal “discovery” process for a trial that eventually got called off. Taken together, these provide insight into why the high-profile case unexpectedly collapsed on the second go-round.

The video above is the first and arguably most crucial of those assets: A tape of the police interview of Cross which was led by the HPD’s John Funk on the afternoon of March 19th, 2012.

The burglary had been discovered early on the morning of March 19th, 2012. By early afternoon, City officials and Detective John Funk had already testified to a grand jury, wrapping up its proceedings around 2:30 pm. Around the same time, police records indicate that the HPD brought Cross in for a voluntary interview with Funk in the presence of Officer Filli.

The interview ended at 3:27 pm, according to the timestamp on the video, with Cross walking out of the station a free man. Just three minutes later, at 3:30 pm, the warrants for his and McClendon’s arrest hit the HPD dispatcher’s desk... at which point the pair disappeared. Three minutes sooner, and there might have been no disappearance.

This police interview became a key bone of contention in the now-cancelled trial, since it was not provided to the defense in a timely way as required by law. (District Attorney Paul Czajka has been generous in taking responsibility forthe omission, though the first responsibility lay with the HPD.)

The video has not been edited above except in two ways: (A) to remove two long and uninformative stretches when Cross just sitting and waiting, and (B) to bleep out the names of citizens mentioned by Funk in the course of the interview.

Legal briefs show that Funk’s mention of one such name had extraordinary value to Cross’s defense as so-called Brady material, a legal term referring to “exculpatory or impeaching information and evidence that is material to the guilt or innocence or to the punishment of a defendant.”

One can see how the content of the suppressed interview may have introduced reasonable doubt regarding the charges, since the same officer who testified to the first grand jury that he recognized Cross on the City Hall surveillance videotape, barely an hour later speculates about whether it’s a totally different Hudson resident. Perhaps this was intended as just an interrogator’s trick, but the value to a defense is immense.

Questioning Cross at length about whether he was responsible for the burglary, and trying various Law & Order-style gambits in an effort to induce him to confess, Funk leaves for a long time—then comes back and abruptly shows Cross stills from the City Hall videotape. The following conversation occurs:

FUNK: Does that look like anybody you know?

CROSS: I can’t see it.

FUNK: You can’t see it? What, did it shut off? ... You don’t know who that guy is? You don’t know who he is? Okay.

[CROSSTALK AS FUNK ACCIDENTALLY BUMPS INTO CROSS]

FUNK: ... I guess, I’m asking you to help me out on this then. Because, whoever did this... What do you think should happen to him? He broke into City Hall.

CROSS: That sucks.

FUNK: That’s stupid—

CROSS: Yup.

FUNK: That’s, that’s some, that’s, that’s minor league stuff. Uh... And you, you're definitely sure it wasn’t you. That ain’t you there?

CROSS: No.

FUNK: You know [MALE FIRST NAME]? You know [MALE FULL NAME]?

CROSS: Yeah.

FUNK: [FEMALE FIRST NAME]’s boyfriend? Could that be him?

CROSS: Let me see?

FUNK: This guy right here. I know, I’m standing right on you... That guy definitely looks like Jamont. So I gotta find him, because I know he'll tell me if he was there. Don’t that look like Jamont?

CROSS: Is it in color?

FUNK: No, it's in night vision.

CROSS: Oh, yeah.

Funk at this point drops the question of who appears on the film, moving on other topics such as the possible need to interview Cross’s mother and sister about his whereabouts on the night before. Funk asks Cross to tell Jamont “to get his rear end over here” if he sees him, and the interview ends on a casual note. Only three minutes later, the HPD began actively looking for him.

Though Cross’s dossier includes extensive investigative materials provided to the defense, the materials provided show no indication that the other male mentioned by Funk was ever interrogated or sought by the HPD. While the name could be fictitious, a male of that same name (bleeped out above) does appear in Hudson voter registration rolls, and is roughly the same age as Cross.

In the first half of the video above, Officer Filli more deftly elicits information about Cross’s rumored impending trip to China, casually getting him to tell when and where his flight out of the country would leave—that Thursday, from Newark.

Other printed records provided by Cross reveal that the Hudson police over the next 72 hours was feverishly contacting airport officials to prevent him from leaving the country if he showed up for the flight. Filli also cleverly invents a way to get Cross to show him the bottom of his shoe, for reasons that become clear below.

Making the case to Cross that “videotape don’t lie,” Funk comes in and genially quizzes Cross. In the course of their sparring, Funk indicates that the police have gathered fingerprint, footprint and DNA evidence. Later, the results of such some of those tests were also withheld for a time from the defense, with their results appearing to have been inconclusive.

Talking expansively, Funk says that he has no animus toward Cross, and that he recognizes his role in the community, and that he knows “who he knows,” and that he is not interested in all that “bullshit” about the credit cards, Funk argues that if hypothetically Cross were guilty of the burglary, it would be in his best interest to confess up front.

Cross wisely does not take the bait, declining to give either a statement or a deposition before leaving.

As far as the provenance of the dossier: Cross indicates that his attorney Susan Tipograph was moving offices and sent it to him for his own safe-keeping. Notably, the stamp-plastered box in which the documents arrived from Tipograph in late December was addressed not to Cross, but to “Linda Mussman[n]” at Time & Space Limited, 434 Columbia Street. While there is no way of saying whether the file has been manipulted to influence this site’s reporting, the randomness of some of the material—such as the inclusion of one of Cross’s tax returns—suggests that it has been presented without much editing.

This site expects to report in further depth on other materials to which Cross has provided access over the next few days.

2nd grand jury drops burglary charges against Cross and McClendon

2012-12-11T13:46:42-05:00

A Columbia Paper article published late last night reports that a second grand jury convened to consider City Hall burglary charges brought by District Attorney Paul Czajka against former Alderman Quintin Cross and resident Jamont McClendon has declined to issue an indictment.

According to one legal expert, that would imply that the judge assigned to the case agreed to dismiss the original grand jury indictment, while allowing the D.A. to take a second shot at a new grand jury. Such a step likely would have be taken by the County prosecutor in order to correct issues that arose with the Hudson Police Department not providing both his office and the defense with a complete set of evidence—including a reported videotape from City Hall from the night of the March 19th break-in.

However, if judge Jonathan Nichols had issued such a ruling, it had not become public knowledge despite the intense publicity that the case had attracted. A trial had been expected this Fall, prior to the evidence SNAFU, which gave his attorney Susan Tipograph grounds to get her client released pending trial.

The pair’s saga has attracted widespread news coverage both locally and in the region after the HPD issued a bulletin that they were seeking Cross and McClendon for questioning in relation to the break-in. The two then disappeared, with the latter apprehended in Hudson on April 3rd, and the former turning himself on April 30th, nearly six weeks after the police bulletin. It is still unknown where Cross was staying during that period.

According to a Register-Star report in August, the missing evidence included “a DVD of the Hudson Police’s interview of Cross, a CD of more than 100 photos from the crime scene and stills from the City Hall surveillance camera showing two suspects entering the building.” Judge Nichols “summoned” HPD chief Ellis Richardson and Detective John Funk to deliver the missing materials, considered at the time crucial to the case.

Nichols was also assigned to a prior case against Cross involving some $16,000 in City credit card charges. According to the Register, Cross was “arrested in January 2007 by the New York State Police and charged with seven felonies and four misdemeanors including forgery, identity theft, grand larceny and falsifying business records for using credits cards in the names of then-Hudson Mayor Richard Tracy, Hudson Police Chief Ellis Richardson and the city of Hudson.”

That case eventually resulted in a larceny plea deal, with various community figures pleading for leniency. But parole violations caused Cross to spend two years in jail, rather than just than his initial six months’ time served. Judge Nichols rejected his attempt to void the sentence on procedural grounds.

Questions also arose (for example, on CBS6) about the Hudson Police interviewing Cross voluntarily on the morning after the burglary was discoverd, but then deciding not to hold him shortly before his disappearance and the issuance of the bulletin.

No wonder DEC has no time for testing

2012-08-11T18:49:17-04:00

According to YNN, a (now-former) environmental engineer has pled guilty to petit larceny, and paid $20,000 restitution, for making “hundreds of calls” to phone sex numbers “while on the job as an engineer for the DEC” [New York State Department of Environmental Conservation]. According to the Times-Union’s coverage from the time of the engineer’s arrest, the calls “totalled more than 500 hours when [he] was on state work time.”

Nabbed

2012-07-06T19:52:50-04:00

CBS6 in Albany (Channel 6) is reporting that a 54-year-old Queens man on parole who has been living in Hudson has been arrested and charged with this week’s robbery of the Bank of America in Hudson.

Scott Baldinger has a breezy account of being on Warren Street in the wake of the robbery at his blog.