Local police amass millions in military surplus
Jeffersontown Police Officer Tommy McCann popped the trunk of his cruiser to reveal thousands of dollars worth of military-grade equipment.
There was an assault rifle, outfitted with a high-end sight and top-dollar infrared accessories. There were camouflage backpacks, night vision goggles, a helmet, flashlights, boots, a tent and a bayonet.
Much of the stockpile came free of charge from the federal government.
As the military unloaded more than $5 billion worth of surplus equipment to police departments across the country, law enforcement in Kentucky and Southern Indiana filled warehouses and outfitted officers with millions worth of high-dollar, high-tech gear.
A hulking armored truck — 13 feet tall and designed to endure a roadside bomb — has become a regular attraction at small-town parades and festivals in Clark County.
The military surplus program came under attack last month after an unarmed black man was shot dead by a police officer in suburban Ferguson, Mo. Television screens across the nation lit up with images of law enforcement, dressed like soldiers and armed with rifles and tanks, confronting peaceful protesters.
The debate has highlighted a mile-wide gap in perception: Local law enforcement considers armored trucks and military gear to be rational preparation for keeping their communities safe in worst-case scenarios, like school shooters or natural disasters. Critics see the trucks, the camouflage and sniper scopes as a symbol of a paramilitary police culture readying for war against its citizens.
"I thought I'd live my whole life and not see a tank in broad daylight," said Louisville Metro Councilwoman Attica Scott, who went to Ferguson during the protests last month and has been an outspoken critic of some contemporary police practices. "This military-grade equipment creates a sense of fear and occupation in our cities. That's not how we should be living in this country."
As the United States Senate held a hearing last week to question whether police need tanks, local law enforcement agencies defended their multi-million dollar haul as an inexpensive means to protect and serve.
"Our citizens want their police departments to be well-equipped and prepared for anything," said Col. Carl Yates, spokesman for the Jefferson County Sheriff's Office. "It's like having insurance. The public expects us to be prepared for any eventuality. And that is what the military surplus program has helped us to do."
Millions in military gear
Eight agencies in Jefferson County have accumulated more than $1.3 million worth of supplies over the last decade — everything from armored trucks down to socks, according to records from the Department of Defense's Law Enforcement Support Office and the Kentucky State Police, which coordinates the surplus program in the state.
But that figure is dwarfed by the $11.8 million worth of equipment accumulated by agencies in Clark County, Ind., according to records from the Defense Logistics Agency obtained by the Detroit Free Press this year.
The Clark County Sheriff's Office has totaled $5.5 million in surplus inventory. Other police departments within Clark County also received military surplus, including Charlestown, $75,000; Jeffersonville, $212,000; Clarksville, $57,000; Sellersburg, $29,000 and $44,9000 in Utica, according to the Indiana Department of Administration, who oversees the federal surplus among Indiana's 92 counties.
The debate has highlighted a mile-wide gap in perception
For example, the Sheriff's Office has a mine-resistant ambush-protected vehicle, commonly called an MRAP, that is parked in one of two warehouses it uses in exchange for patrolling the former Indiana Army Ammunition Plant, now River Ridge Commerce Center. It sits alongside a half-dozen surplus Humvees and a boat that would have cost the county $500,000, said Kenny Hughbanks, the Clark County Sheriff's Office information technology director.
The department also has a robot, 18 assault rifles and so many blankets the cash-strapped county jail hasn't had to buy any for eight years. The Sheriff's Office built its own body and metal-fabrication shop to fix cars in-house almost entirely with surplus equipment. It has surplus laundry bags, kitchen equipment, sinks, air conditioners, 200 chairs, computers, and it got a newer semi-tractor to help haul trailer loads earlier this year.
Hughbanks, who has led the surplus program for the sheriff's office since it began in 2006, said state administrators view it as a "poster child" for the surplus program in the Hoosier state because of its acquisitions.
Robots, bayonets and body armor
Across the river in Jefferson County, the biggest beneficiary of military surplus equipment was not its largest law enforcement agency — the Louisville Metro Police Department — which has received $347,788 worth, including a robot, 16 assault rifles and a variety of clothing, equipment and body armor.
Nor was it the Jefferson County Sheriff's Office, which brought home an armored combat vehicle, a Humvee, 153 assault rifles and night-vision equipment valued at a total of $431,577.
The Jeffersontown Police Department, with 50 officers who patrol the suburban city of 26,000 people, is at the top of the equipment list. Over the last year it has accumulated more than a half-million dollars worth of stuff: two Humvees, laser range finders, axes, x-ray cameras, bayonets, a dumbbell, fleece jackets, a pressure washer, clubs, holsters, night vision sniper scopes, and more high-end sleeping bags than they have officers. They've skipped buying weapons, in favor of officers providing their own, newer rifles.
At Tuesday's Senate hearing, Kentucky Republican Sen. Rand Paul, a fervent critic of the surplus program, mocked the distribution of 12,000 bayonets to police departments across the county.
"What purpose are bayonets being given out for?" he asked.
"I can give you an answer: None."
The Jeffersontown Police Department received 51 bayonets — one for each of its full-time officers plus a spare.
"It's just a fancy French word for a field knife," said Jeffersontown Police Major Alex Payne. "How many police officers carry a field knife? It's a handy, durable tool. These comments come from people who are not in the field. They've never dealt with an active shooter, they've never dealt with a barricaded subject."
His defense echoes a common refrain among law enforcement when questioned about the necessity of military-grade equipment in American policing: that the threat is real and anything that might help them quell it is a useful and appropriate tool.
'I want an MRAP'
The Defense Department notes that of the $5 billion in equipment circulated, only 5 percent are weapons and less than 1 percent are tactical vehicles. Local law enforcement agencies have gotten clothes, cameras, watches, generators, defibrillators, first-aid kits, toolboxes, stretchers, gloves, canteens and sleeping bags. Getting necessary and helpful equipment through surplus frees up their budgets to buy other things, they say.
Across the state, Kentucky agencies have taken $38.3 million worth of military supplies, including at least five armored vehicles and 23 aircraft. The Kentucky State Police got a $1 million Learjet in January.
Other Jefferson County agencies have also taken from the program: the police department in Lynnview — a city of 900 — received one M16 rifle. The University of Louisville Police Department got two sets of binoculars. The Louisville Metro Department of Corrections acquired more than $19,000 worth of night vision equipment. The St. Matthews Police Department similarly stocked up with $19,000 in supplies, from binoculars and gun sights to watches, ponchos, gun belts and sleeping bags.
The Audubon Park Police Department, which patrols the town of around 1,500, acquired four assault rifles. In 2005, that agency brought home a 28-foot high-tech bus, intended for use as a roving emergency command center, according to newspaper archives. In its first four years in operation, it was used during one windstorm and at town festivals. Chief Doug Sweeney, who took over the department in January, said the department got rid of it before his arrival.
The Jefferson County Sheriff's Office — with 250 deputies charged primarily with court security, serving court papers, transporting prisoners and inspecting vehicles — acquired a $200,000 armored personnel carrier.
They requested it with a shoot-out in mind: you could park it between the bad guys and the good guys and rescue downed officers or citizens, Yates said.
"They don't want their police department to have one of these vehicles unless they're laying in the street and the bad guy is still shooting," he said.
The carrier requires painting and maintenance, and has not yet been put into service.
The Jeffersontown Police Department has not received an armored truck — much to Payne's chagrin.
"I want an MRAP, I want a rolling fort," he said.
The criticism, he believes, is overblown. He went online and pulled up the Officer Down Memorial Page, a website that tracks line-of-duty police officer deaths. It lists 33 officers killed by gunfire this year.
"That's what an MRAP is for, I don't want that to happen here," he said. "It's like with everything else, it takes the right training to know when to use it and when not to use it. You don't go to a cat-in-a-tree call in an armored vehicle. But if the bullets are flying around, it might be a good idea to bring one."
Military culture
Eastern Kentucky University Professor Dr. Peter Kraska has studied the rise of military culture in policing since the late 1980s.
He testified at Tuesday's Senate hearing that the line between police and military is quickly blurring.
In the mid-1980s, one-third of police departments had tactical SWAT teams, he said. Now more than 80 percent of departments — large and small — have one. The number of SWAT deployments skyrocketed from 3,000 a year in the 1980s to an estimated 60,000 now, most of them drug raids rather than emergency situations.
He called it an "unfortunate turn in American policing and American democracy," that disproportionally impacts minority and poor communities.
"It is hard to imagine that anyone intended for the wars on crime, drugs and terrorism to devolve into widespread police militarization," he told the Senate. "At the same time, it is also hard not to see that by declaring war we have opened the door to outfitting our police to be soldiers with a warrior mindset."
In stark contrast, several local law enforcement officials said they believe their military equipment improves their public relations.
The Clark County Sheriff's Office parked its MRAP at Thunder Over Louisville in April and at Sellersburg Celebrates last month. Kids, enamored of soldiers, climbed around on the massive machine.
Hughbanks called it "heart warming" and said it sent a message that "the police aren't the bad guys."
"They're worth their weight in gold," he said.
It also used its surplus semi and trailer to help transport food in Henryville immediately after the March 2, 2012, tornadoes ripped through Clark and other Southern Indiana and Kentucky counties.
"The tornado is what spurred us," Hughbanks said, noting they've since picked up refrigerated trucks, bulldozers medical kits and other equipment that could be useful in a disaster.
But some critics scoff at the idea that military vehicles improve a police department's rapport with its citizens.
"It portrays to portions of the community who already distrust police: war," said Louisville civil rights lawyer Dan Canon, who lives in Clarksville. "It's bad policing."
Canon — along with other critics of militarized police departments — reflected on the time when police officers walked their beats and knew the neighbors. They call the shift in police culture "the militarization of Mayberry."
But Payne countered that contemporary cops are policing in a much-changed world.
"There used to be more respect for police officers, for teachers, for authority," he said. "We've lost that as a society. At some point law enforcement adapted to the threat, and in doing so a lot was lost."
Reporter Claire Galofaro can be reached at (502) 582-7086. Follow her on Twitter at @clairegalofaro. Reporter Charlie White can be reached at (812) 949-4026 or on Twitter @c_write.