Discrimination
charges put Mascotte Police Department in turmoil once again
Things have gone wild in Lake County's second-chance police department.
Over the years, the Mascotte cop shop has become known in law-enforcement circles as a haven for unfortunate officers who were dismissed elsewhere and those who deemed it best to depart before they were shown the door.
Even its current chief, who proudly declares that he is the first Hispanic to hold the office, bailed out of another agency while being investigated for misconduct.
Sometimes redemption comes for those hired by Mascotte, and when it does, officers leave for a new agency and life. They never stay long, in any case. The pay is scanty, and patrolling for speeders on State Road 50 gets old fast.
And then there's the constant turmoil.
One of Mascotte's former officers is on death row for raping and killing an 11-year-old girl on a fine May night while he was on duty in 1988. A decade later, nearly the whole department quit at the same time. And then there was the occasion when City Hall exploded and burned to the ground, and state fire marshals focused on the Mascotte cops as the chief suspects.
Every officer except then-Chief Gary Birman took a lie-detector test, and no one ever was charged in the 1984 fire. Birman, however, later was convicted of two counts of arson in other cases and went to prison.
And now, the Mascotte pot is roiling again, just as the city is fighting off financial collapse.
This time, three white officers — a third of the department — have filed federal discrimination complaints alleging that they were fired by Chief Rolando Banasco to make room for Hispanics on the force. A fourth white officer also was dismissed.
The three stated in their complaints that Banasco, who was promoted in January from sergeant to chief, regularly made racially insensitive remarks and boasted that he would "flex his Hispanic muscle" to pave the way for Hispanic officers to be hired in Mascotte, where nearly 60 percent of residents are Hispanic — most of them Mexican.
The officers say they were hounded and taunted so badly over trumped-up charges that they lost their jobs. City Manager Jim Gleason said that's untrue and that he doesn't tolerate racial discrimination. He said that two Hispanic officers, one black officer and one white officer were hired to replace the four men.
Two of the dismissed officers lost their emotional stability along with their paychecks. Both were diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder triggered by the department's upheaval and were finally dismissed May 15 when they were unable to return to work after family leave and other paid leave time ran out.
One of those, a well-respected 15-year veteran of the Leesburg Police Department, said he has since been offered a position by another agency but is afraid to trust himself with a gun. Gregg Woodworth provided a copy of a letter that his psychiatrist sent to Mascotte on April 26 saying that that it would be "very inadvisable" for the lieutenant to return to work "for his safety and the safety of others."
The third officer, Scott Thompson, said he and the fourth fired patrolman were harshly punished for petty "infractions" such as making a quick call on a personal cellphone while on duty. The families of those two officers have moved in together to help ends meet. Thompson said he ultimately was unjustly accused of lying to a supervisor and terminated.
"Within two weeks of taking over, the chief put me on a performance-improvement plan, yet there is nothing in my file showing any reasons to put me on a performance-improvement plan," said Thompson, 33, who is continuing to look for a job.
Thompson, who came to Mascotte after being dismissed from a South Florida agency, said he thought he was doing fine until then, and a recent performance evaluation backs his contention.
"My own sergeant never came to me and said I need to pick up my performance," Thompson said.
Banasco said the cases are in the hands of a lawyer, and he didn't want to get into details. City personnel files, however, tell a story of proper discipline, he said, and the claim of reverse discrimination is "absolutely false."
"That, ma'am," the chief said, "is not in my character."
Gleason said Banasco and Woodworth were the two finalists for the chief. Gleason said he chose Banasco because the sergeant, whose career has been mostly in corrections, brought fresh ideas about policing to his interview for the job, and Woodworth did not. Gleason said that's what the City Council wanted.
Woodworth, for his part, said he was asked only "stupid" questions during his interview, such as "Did you ever have to shoot anyone?" Nobody, he said, wanted to hear his ideas about the future of the department and how it should be run.
So who is right, and who is wrong? The answers likely will become more clear as the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission investigates the allegations.
But the aftermath of all this drama in what is supposed to be a friendly little town is shameful. Four families are struggling, their lives in emotional and financial disarray. Workers-compensation claims, discrimination complaints and allegations of improper and even illegal behavior by city officials will be several years in the sorting out.
"I'm living off my savings, waiting to hear from the EEOC and Social Security," said Woodworth, who is also an eight-year veteran of the U.S. Marine Corps. "I'm putting in for unemployment this afternoon."
"The only thing I know is wearing a uniform, and I've worn one for 34 years serving the community and the country, and this is how I get treated.
"I'm 54 years old — who is going to hire me?"
Stay tuned for Sunday's column, which will examine the cost of police departments to taxpayers and take a look at alternatives.
os-lk-lauren-ritchie-mascotte-police-20120629
