"Crooked Colorado Cops"
By SGW Brady May, Cherokee County

For some Game Wardens, one of the most enjoyable and relaxing times a-field is the opportunity to hunt out-of-state. During the fall, hunting times are limited for the Warden workforce which today still only includes 104 non-administrative officers to cover Oklahoma's seventy-seven counties. Many times an out-of-place shot or sound of a slow moving vehicle while sitting in a stand stirs up thoughts of work taking away from the officer's total hunting experience. A Colorado elk hunt can be scheduled early before Oklahoma's fall season kicks in drawing many officers away for a unique hunting experience that seems to pull them through the long season to come.

I too was looking forward to an elk hunting trip with my family to South Fork, Colorado in the fall of 2001. My father-in law, two brother-in laws and I had drawn first rifle bull tags. I was a little nervous to begin with since this was to be my first trip with the in-laws after recently marrying into the family. My mother-in-law was coming along also, serving as camp cook and designated "shopping guide" during her mid-day excursions into town. We had just pulled into the Shaw Mesa campground at the base of Del Norte peak to begin setting up camp when a visitor pulled up.

A white Dodge pickup abruptly pulled right into camp demanding our immediate attention. Knowing that my father-in-law had camped here for over twenty-five years and that the spot was vacant, I approached with an open resolve to not start out my long anticipated trip in an unpleasant confrontation. As I approached with a smiling face, a robust Mexican man in his late thirties identified himself as Freddie Rodriquez, the local conservation officer. Before I could speak, he quickly asked how many hunters were in my party and were there any non-licensed hunters that just came along for the ride. Relieved to know that we weren't going to have to move and that a fellow officer was here, I answered all his pertinent questions and then identified myself and my family. Finding it amusing to have just gone through a routine interrogation, I reiterated that I too was a Game Warden from Oklahoma.

Striking an accord, Mr. Rodriquez shook my hand and confirmed that he was actually a Rio Grande county sheriff's deputy contracted to assist the Colorado Division of Wildlife as a reserve conservation officer. I quickly observed that he was well equipped with all the tools of the trade and his reserve status explained the unmarked vehicle that he was driving. Deputy Rodriquez showed me some of his equipment which included a satellite based hand held radio, a digital pager with all the forestry service gate combinations, ticket book, rechargeable flashlight and nylon gear with a Glock semi-automatic pistol.

After inviting him out of his vehicle and formally introducing him to my family, we stood around the campfire and talked about hunting and the assistance that reserves provide to the Colorado DOW. I found it most interesting when Deputy Rodriquez pointed a gun-like device at the campfire that flashed a digital temperature reading. He explained that the conservation officers used it to determine "time of death" on deer and elk carcasses found at camps. A low internal temperature might indicate that the carcass or hind quarter had been illegally killed the day before season. My special trip was off to a good start having made friends with Deputy Rodriquez and adopting "Freddie" into the family. We invited him back anytime he was in the area.

The next evening after returning from a scouting trip, we ran into Freddie again on one of the lower forestry service roads. With four of us crammed into a Ford Ranger extended cab, Freddie offered to give me a ride back to camp. Along the way we stopped briefly to check a new camp for licenses and then spent some quality time exchanging stories about catching the bad guys on the way back to camp. Freddie told how he and his partner had responded to a burglary in progress call one night and after finding forced entry, drew their weapons as they heard the intruder inside a South Fork cabin. After hollering "police" they found themselves face to face with a five-hundred pound black bear that had raided the cabin kitchen. Unfortunately, they did not take the bear into custody, but were amazed to find out that it took all fifteen rounds from a .40 Glock clip to resolve the confrontation.

Freddie was invited to one of Nanny's fine fireside meals that night and stuck around for more campfire comradery, Freddie, who weighed three hundred pounds plus, left quite content late that night. Before leaving, he received an open invitation to return anytime for more Oklahoma hospitality.

After returning to camp unsuccessfully from our opening morning hunt, my father-in-law resorted to Plan B for the evening hunt. All four of us would scale to the top of Wolf Mountain and then split in pairs for a strategic push across the westward slope. Just below the rock slides, the dark timbered slope was about one mile wide and provided excellent cover for a late evening stalk. About an hour into it, I heard five shots coming from the north side. Immediately, I knelt down and studied the snow covered game trails for movement. Shortly after seeing a spike bull come running by, I heard two more shots close by near where my brother-in-law was positioned. Suddenly, I saw some movement and picked out a hole in the dense timber that afforded one opportunity at a 4X4 bull.  As he ran through followed by four cows, I fired and struck home with my first bull kill.  Excitedly making it down for the rendezvous, I was astonished to find that we had killed three bulls within five minutes of each other.

With three bulls down in rough terrain after dark, we only had time and energy to retrieve Veramari s bull.  Fortunately, the weather was cool enough to allow us to retrieve the others the next day As we dragged Veramari s bull down to the road, Freddie showed up and provided us with some big man relief, and a full sized pickup to haul the elk in back to camp. Freddie celebrated the successful harvest with us that night and again was treated like family. In fact, Freddie was enjoying our company so much that he volunteered to help us retrieve the last two remaining bulls the next day.

The next morning, Chris and I had just walked up Wolf Mountain and were making the drag back down with my elk when Freddie showed up. Sure enough, he lived up to his word providing some much appreciated relief in dragging the last two animals down. Not only did he help haul them back to camp, he even helped with the hanging and skinning process and followed us into town to the meat processor. Basically, everywhere we went, Freddie went also.

Mid-week we all celebrated at the Hungry Logger restaurant in South Fork. Veraman treated Freddie to all he could eat and drink and even plugged a few pool games for him. Richard was still looking to fill a tag, and before departing Freddie volunteered to help make a drive for him the next morning. Jokingly, my mother-in-law invited Freddie to bring his sleeping bag and stay with us in the outfitters tent. Well, who would have thought, late that night Freddie showed up with his sleeping bag so he would be ready for the next day's push and Nanny's breakfast. He lumbered into the tent with Chris and I like a hibernating bear and soon fell fast asleep.

Daily, Freddie was just a wealth of local information and tall tales that were accredited to his long law enforcement career. Throughout the week, Freddie showed us some fabulous houses and real estate that his family owned in South Fork and even took Veraman on a guided tour to help him fill his bear tag. The entire family seemed to be entertained by Freddie's presence. Although he seemed a little windy and ate for two, we didn't mind having a fellow law enforcement officer calling our camp home.

During the last night of our trip, I borrowed Chris' cell phone and called my wife to check-in. Somehow, I misplaced the phone and never showed up before we left for home. I felt terribly responsible and thought we would find it either on the way home or when we unpacked. Before
putting out the final campfire coals, Freddie agreed to meet us at the Rainbow Meat Market and follow us to the KOA Campground where we would all take a well-needed hot shower before heading home.

Having bonded for over a week with our new friend Freddie, we all said our reluctant good-bye's and exchanged information in order to keep in touch. Freddie gave me a business card that promoted his summer part time job and I offered to mail him an Oklahoma Game Warden Association hat. On the long drive home, we all reminisced and laughed about the time we shared with Freddie.

Well, before the pictures were developed and the new wore off of our trip, I received an interesting call from Chris. He had just opened his cell phone bill and learned that someone in Colorado had been making numerous calls from his misplaced phone. In fact, most of the calls were from South Fork and Del Norte and exceeded over $500.00 in just a few days' time. We both pondered the thought that Freddie was in camp the night Chris' phone came up missing. Could Freddie be responsible somehow?

Once I had the bill in my hand, I immediately recognized one of the phone numbers as Freddie's business card number. That confirmed it; Freddie was a "Crooked Colorado Cop." How could he have betrayed my family and a fellow officer? In my anger and disgust, I almost-called Freddie on Chris' stolen cell phone. Instead, I talked Chris into canceling his service and letting me handle the matter the way a real law enforcement professional would; by the law.

I spent hours formulating a report, complete with phone records and photographs, implicating Freddie as the dirty cop that I knew he turned out to be. I called Sheriff Garcia of the Rio Grande County Sheriff's office to inform him of the situation and discuss the problem concerning one of his officers dishonoring the badge. Sheriff Garcia listened intently as I laid out the case before him. Once I vented my frustration and gave the sheriff an opportunity to respond, I was completely awestruck as I listened to what the honorable Sheriff Garcia had to say.

Sheriff Garcia acknowledged that Freddie Rodriquez was indeed known by the sheriff's office. However, Freddie was not a Rio Grande county sheriff's deputy nor a Colorado DOW reserve officer but a CONVICTED FELON! He knew Freddie during his juvenile delinquent years and observed that he never grew out of his felonious behavior. Freddie habitually continued in a career as a con-artist and thief resulting in several felony convictions and prison sentences.

Apparently, after his last sentence was served, his home town of South Fork hired him as a fireman to help him out of hard times. Well, Freddie didn't conform as a model citizen and after he was fired, he never returned his fireman's equipment. That is how he passed as a sheriff's deputy with all the tools of the trade. The time of death device was actually a fire fighters' tool designed to tell how hot the inside of a burning house might be. Sheriff Garcia had as many stories to tell about Freddie's criminal history as the lies that Freddie had told us. Finally, Sheriff Garcia agreed to take my report and investigate charges of impersonating an officer and illegally possessing a firearm. I also received a similar response from the area law enforcement supervisor for the Colorado DOW.

Well, after two years and numerous unreturned phone calls, the Crooked Colorado Cop case has never been pursued. My family returned to South Fork to hunt again during the 2003 season. The first night we drove in to town, we stopped at a local restaurant and jokingly asked the waitress if she knew the new mayor, Freddie Rodriquez? She quickly returned with the cook who apparently knew everyone in the South Fork area. Standing there in apron, crossed arms and a not so happy look on his face, Veraman asked the cook if he knew our good friend Freddie Rodriquez. I quickly interjected that we had been conned two years ago by Freddie and wanted to know if any locals were familiar with the perpetrator. Only then did the cook relax his arms and face and explain that Freddie had conned his daughter out of some money on a car repair. He smiled as he confirmed that he got his daughter's money back without having to rely on crooked Sheriff Garcia.

We were then relieved to know before we headed to the mountains to set up camp that our good friend Freddie Rodriquez was currently receiving likewise hospitality at the Del Norte County jail. Our friendly Colorado cook also advised us that Sheriff Garcia had been protecting Freddie for years. Apparently, Freddie was one of his main drug snitches and simply overlooked some of Freddie's shenanigans when he could. With a newly elected sheriff in town, Freddie could no longer receive favoritism to avoid apprehension and was receiving some long overdue justice.

We shook hands and thanked the cook for his time and information which seemed to bring some sort of closure to our vulnerability. However, we didn't invite him to our camp to taste some of Nanny's cooking nor did we extend our Oklahoma hospitality to a "Cranky Colorado Cook."