Plain Old Justice

by K. W. Locke

When Kyle Shoulta and his girlfriend, Remy Riley - both 18 - began driving from Tampa to Fort Lauderdale, they likely didn't imagine they would be forced to take off their clothes in the Everglades.  They headed south, then turned east at Naples, where Interstate 75 becomes a toll road and goes straight through wetlands and swamp.

Travel advisers caution to fill your gas tank, and use the restroom, before embarking on this 80-mile stretch, known as "Alligator Alley."   You will drive for miles without seeing a service station although, about halfway, on the Miccosukee Indian Reservation, there's a convenience store where you can buy snacks and gas.

After the couple left the Interstate to fuel up, a Miccosukee Tribe police officer pulled them over, reportedly for running a stop sign.  The cop found alcohol and marijuana and offered the teenagers a deal.  To avoid arrest, they could take off their clothes and run naked.

Deciding against jail, they followed Martinez to a remote area, got out of their car, and then their clothes.  That was in August 2016, but Martinez would see them again 3 years later, this time fully dressed, when they testified during his trial for extortion.

Shoulta told the jury that, given the choice of going to jail or taking off his clothes, he opted for running around naked.

It may have been a more difficult decision for his then-girlfriend.  Riley testified that she removed her pants and shirt in front of the officer and then "I kind of looked at him like 'is this enough?' He's like, 'That's it?'"
 

She turned her back and finished undressing.  "Then, I ran in the opposite direction holding myself ," she said, and continued to hold herself when she ran back.  "While I'm in the middle of holding myself, he's like, Move your hands away from your body so I can see."

The jury found Martinez guilty of extortion and unlawful compensation and the court sentenced him to 10 years in prison.  Martinez appealed unsuccessfully.  Last month, the time came for him to start doing time.

Reportedly, Martinez may have been less than a perfect officer even before he coerced the teenagers to undress.  However, the Miccosukee Tribe's police department itself has a strange and alarming history.

It's difficult to get current information on the size of the Tribe's police department because personnel change so often.   A Department of Justice report indicates that it had 30 sworn officers in 2003.  A more recent report, from www.police1.com, indicates there are 38 officers.  

Even 30 sworn officers would seem like a lot, considering that the Miccosukee Tribe itself has only about 550 or so members.  However, the Tribe owns a resort and casino near Miami, so it certainly can afford that large a police force.

A decade ago, 21 Miccosukee officers signed a petition calling for the investigation of a police sergeant.  The Tribe fired 7 of the officers and the interim police chief.  Two years later, the department discharged four officers and a fifth, reportedly fearing she would be terminated, committed suicide.

In 2018, some Miccosukee police officers, pursuant to a tribal court's order and accompanied by Miami-Dade officers, went to a hospital 30 miles away from the reservation and seized a newborn baby over the objections of the mother, who was a member of the Tribe.   Although the Tribe returned the baby to the mother days later, the incident sparked criticism, including from U, S, Senator Marco Rubio.

Earlier this year, a Miccosukee officer was driving on I-75 when one of his tires blew out.  The patrol car rolled several times, fatally ejecting the officer.  He wasn't wearing a seat belt.

But the Tribe's problems go beyond its police department.  At one point, the Tribe hired lawyers, including a former United States attorney, to provide tax advice concerning revenues from the casino.  Some of the Tribe's leaders claimed that the lawyers advised them that they did not have to pay certain income taxes.  (The lawyers said their advice was misunderstood.)

Then, the IRS showed up asking, in effect, "where's our money?"

Tribal leaders fired the lawyers, then hired another attorney to sue the previous lawyers.  The new attorney did bring suit, claiming that the previous lawyers had conspired with the Tribe's previous chairman in a kickback scheme.  

However, a federal judge found that the Tribe had "no evidence or only patently frivolous evidence" to support the suit and threw it out.

The Tribe also had this same lawyer sue another of its former attorneys.  This suit also lacked merit.

Later, the Florida Supreme Court disbarred the attorney, and not just because of the frivolous lawsuits he filed.  The errant lawyer also had made wild accusations.   For instance, he accused another attorney of sprinkling pistachios and peanuts on the food of a law clerk who was allergic to nuts.

The lawyer only got disbarred.  He didn't wind up in prison for 10 years like former officer Martinez.  But I wonder:  Didn't his frivolous lawsuits cause just about as much damage?

I'll have to think about that, but one thing is clear.  Anyone allergic to nuts should avoid this tribe whenever possible.           

 

Banner based on photograph of alligator in Alligator Alley by David Balmer; aerial photo of7 I-75 "Alligator Alley" by Formulaone.  Both photos and map of Florida from Wikimedia Commons