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.