The multiple, parallel cases and investigations associated with the now nearly forgotten Twin Peaks biker brawl on May 17, 2015 are all underway in caves deep below the surface of the Gulf of Mexico.
The “Battle of Twin Peaks,” as its self-dramatizing chief prosecutor likes to call it, has so far resulted in: Fifteen federal civil rights lawsuits for false arrest; the indictment of 154 people who are mostly, provably, obviously innocent; ongoing criminal investigations against 38 people who were arrested following the brawl but whom the district attorney has not yet had time to indict; five lawsuits that argue that the confrontation was the fault of the Waco Twin Peaks franchise; two motions in state court that seek to bar Abelino Reyna, the McLennan County District attorney, from prosecuting any of the cases; a federal racketeering case against four members of the Bandidos Motorcycle Club, including three Bandidos national officers, that accuses the club as a whole of being comprised of homicidal drug dealers who were at war with the Cossacks; an unannounced, post-brawl, DEA investigation into Cossack Nomad Owen Reeves and the Bandidos and their connections to the methamphetamine business in Texas; and an unannounced, pre-brawl, ATF investigation into methamphetamine sales by members of the Cossacks and The Aryan Circle in central Texas.
The complexity of this legal Atlantis, deep beneath the waves of public awareness, discourages any consideration of what our government might have done. The Twin Peaks just can’t compete for public attention with whatever might next come out of Donald Trump’s mouth. And only crackpots believe in Atlantis anyway.
But the question of what our government might have done is still one of the most important stories in America even in a presidential election year. The Battle of Twin Peaks and its aftermath raise a thousand important questions that should be obvious to anybody in the business of asking questions. Like: What were the police doing there; why didn’t they stop the violence before it could occur; what did they think they would capture on video; why were so many innocent witnesses arrested; why were they all treated so unjustly; why did officials so blatantly lie to the press; why didn’t the press notice; what part did the Obama Administration’s Department of Justice play in this event; and is what has been going on in Waco for the last 15 months an aberration or is this what the word “justice” now means? Is it possible that the Battle Of Twin Peaks means something more than a “real life episode of Sons of Anarchy?”
Sometimes the deepest fathoms of the wine dark sea release clues as mysterious as the flatulence of mermaids.
What briefly bubbled to the surface the other day was “tha newz” that a former McLennan County Jail Deputy named Jennifer Guftason Howell, in the widely distributed shame photograph above, has been indicted for “misuse of official information.”
In addition to being a jail guard, Howell was the girlfriend of one of the men arrested after the brawl. The arrest gave police the opportunity to rummage through the portions of his personal life he had memorialized on his cellphone. That’s how police discovered his intimate relation with Howell. Police also discovered that he had asked Howell to run a license plate number for him. She did and sent the name and address associated with the plate number to her boyfriend.
Parnell McNamara, the drugstore cowboy who is McLennan County Sheriff announced he was “shocked and stunned” to learn that Howell had run a license plate number when he learned of her outrage last April. Howell was fired.
Reyna issued a press release in which he vowed to “continue to work with Sheriff McNamara to uncover the full extent of this relationship and the impact it may have had on any investigation and any resulting criminal conduct…. This investigation will continue and justice will be done.”
If she is found guilty, Howell faces a minimum term of two years in prison.
Another obvious question might be, where is the justice in that?