In 1966, in an effort to contain the widespread drug use that was occurring across the country, the U.S. government formed the Bureau of Drug Abuse Control. My father was brought on board and assigned as a Special Agent in the Denver Division. At that time, there were only six agents assigned to the Denver office which was responsible for covering six States. My father’s area of responsibility was northern Colorado, all of Wyoming and all of Montana.
The Division began making good cases, particularly with regards to the methamphetamine labs that were sprouting up and associated with the hippies. The office was so successful that they grew from 6 agents to 20 agents in just 4 years. The office was divided into two groups of 10 agents each, and my father was promoted to Group Supervisor.
In early 1970, the group was working the initial stages of a meth case that appeared promising. Two of the agents in the group were working undercover and arranged to meet the sellers at a pre-arranged location. As was standard procedure, the other agents in the group scouted out the location well in advance of the meet looking for ambush points, countersurveillance or anything suspicious. The agents also searched for vantage points to be able to cover the undercover agents should anything go wrong at the meeting.
Back in those days, it was common for different drug organizations to rip each other off. So, when the buyer and sellers met, sometimes the buyers would steal the drugs, or the sellers would take the money. So, it was extremely important for the undercover agents to always have back-ups when conducting meetings.
It was also extremely important for the undercover agents to follow protocols set for their protection. Two of the most important protocols were 1) always select the meeting point (never let the seller dictate the location), and 2) never leave the meeting area. If the seller tried to take you to another location, you would call off the meeting walk away. But you never, under any circumstances, were to leave the meeting point.
On this particular occasion, after the pre-op meeting, the back-up agents went out to scout the area several hours in advance and set up at their individual surveillance points. With all agents in place, most on foot, the undercover agents set off for the meeting, followed at a discreet distance by my father and a rookie agent. Once the u/c (undercover) agents entered the zone of coverage by the rest of the group, my father and the rookie agent broke off the tail, returned to their vehicle and set up approximately one block away with a line of sight of the meeting point. My father and the rookie agent remained in the vehicle to ensure coverage in the event that the drugs were being brought in by a support car.
Upon arriving at the location, the u/c agents met briefly with the sellers, and then immediately broke protocol by climbing into the trafficker’s car and departing the area with the sellers towards an unknown location.
With the back-up agents scrambling to get back to their vehicles, the only ones in a position to follow the u/c agents were my father and the rookie. As they followed them towards downtown Denver, they called out directions over the radio to the back-up agents who were desperately trying to catch up. The u/c agents were followed into a predominantly Mexican area in downtown Denver and were observed heading into an alley, where they got out of the car. At this point, my father and the other agent exited the vehicle to take up surveillance spots on each side of the alley.
While focused on the action happening in the alley to ensure the safety of the 2 undercover agents, my father was blindsided by an unknown individual who hit him in the face, almost knocking him unconscious. Suddenly, a whole gang of 15 – 20 people appeared and jumped on my father, hitting him an kicking him. He also heard them yelling “get the gun and kill him!”.
At this point, the other agent started yelling “somos federales” (we’re feds) and fired a shot, sending everyone scrambling. The gang ran behind a group of women and children who were onlookers, using them as shields, and began firing on the other agent and my father, who was able to stumble behind a tree for protection. My father and the other agent could not return fire for fear of hitting one of the women or children. The police arrived, but by then, both the gang and alleged sellers had left the area.
The two undercover agents had been robbed and the rookie agent had been hit over the head with a gun. My father suffered broken ribs on both sides of his body, his face was caved in, his jaw and nose were broken and he had a dislocated left testicle.
Following the incident, the group returned to the office to conduct the post-op meeting and to file their reports. Only after all reports were filed did my father head out to the hospital to seek treatment for his injuries. The doctors taped his ribs, but were unable to do anything for the head injuries as his face was too swollen. So, he was placed on administrative leave, given pain killers and told to wait until the swelling went down.
In the meantime, my mother had been watching the news that evening and saw footage from a news helicopter of an incident involving federal agents and a Mexican street gang, and instinctively knew what had happened.
A few days later, once the swelling had gone down, my father underwent surgery that involved placing a wire in his left temple, resetting his nose, wiring his jaw shut and resetting his testicle. He spent ten days in the hospital, but full recovery did not occur for several months, during which he lost close to 15 pounds of muscle and body mass.
Rumor has it – OK, my mother told me – that I used to charge my friends $.25 each for a peek at my father immediately after the beating. I would sneak them in in groups of 2 – 3 so that they could get a glimpse of my father when he was resting. From what I was told, I made some really good money, at the time.
More than 20 years later, my father would receive the DEA Purple Heart award for valor beyond the call of duty.