Border News

Border-shooting furor unabated 2 years later (poll inside)

By Pauline Arrillaga

The Associated Press

Tucson, Arizona | Published: 02.17.2007

FABENS, Texas —

The prairie where it all happened is quiet now. A sign rests near a muddy ditch, "Stop Illegal Immigration," left behind by protesters who have visited in homage to two former Border Patrol agents, imprisoned for shooting a drug smuggler in the backside as he sprinted toward Mexico.
It seems almost unimaginable that one moment in this lonely place ignited the furor that rages two years later.

A jury convicted the agents of assault, obstruction of justice and civil-rights violations. A federal judge meted out punishment: 12 years for Jose Alonso Compean; 11 for Ignacio "Nacho" Ramos. As the two men surrendered last month, demonstrators took to the streets shrieking: "What kind of America do we have?"

There have been hateful phone calls to prosecutors, warnings to President Bush from some fellow Republicans in Congress about taking sides with "the American people or … our enemies" — demands for an independent probe and a pardon.

"Commended illegal immigration heroes," one Web site christened the convicted officers, whose supporters are disgusted that the so-called victim — "a doper" — went free, while the agents sit behind bars for "doing their job."

But what happened that February day in 2005 isn't as black and white as the us vs. them spin on the airwaves and the Internet, where facts are fleeting in the ever emotional debate over the nation's borders.

Consider one fact missing from the cyberspace chatter: In the El Paso Border Patrol sector, where Compean and Ramos were assigned, agents have fired their weapons 14 times in the line of duty since 2001. Each of those shootings, except one, was ruled a justifiable use of force, according to the U.S. Attorney's Office in San Antonio — a "good shoot," in Border Patrol parlance.

The exception was the Compean-Ramos case. "They knew it was a bad shoot," a federal prosecutor told jurors at their trial.

This case is different not simply because of the debate it inflamed but, as an Associated Press review of court documents, transcripts and exhibits shows, because of what transpired in a few life-changing moments out on that lonely prairie.

Drug transaction suspected

"Did you guys copy? There's a blue van leaving at 76. Going pretty quick."

It was 1:11 p.m. on Feb. 17, 2005, 30 miles east of El Paso in a hamlet of cotton fields called Fabens.

Agent Compean, a Border Patrol officer for five years, was on the radio calling in some tripped sensors. He alerted his fellow officers that he suspected some sort of drug transaction was under way, and the agents of the Fabens Border Patrol station quickly responded.

Oscar Juarez was in his vehicle not far from the Rio Grande, holding the line against a group of illegal immigrants waiting for just the right moment to cross over from Mexico, he would testify at trial.

Nacho Ramos, a 10-year veteran, was having lunch at the station when he heard the call.

They, and five other agents, responded. Holding the line against illegal immigrants might be their primary job description, agents would testify, but taking down a drug load is an event every officer wants credit for.
Juarez followed the van north into Fabens. He hit his overhead lights, but the van sped up and headed back south toward the border. Ramos joined in the pursuit.

"We got this baby," Juarez radioed at 1:19 p.m.

The van came to a stop at the edge of a steep sewage ditch. Beyond it, facing south, was a slight incline, then a levee road and an open vega, or prairie, about half a football field in length. Beyond the vega: the Rio Grande, then Mexico.

Ramos pulled up behind the van, followed by Juarez. Compean parked his truck on the levee road.

The van driver, Osvaldo Aldrete Davila, got out and ran for the canal, Mexico in his sights.

"Parate! Parate!" Compean shouted, Spanish for "stop."

Compean pointed his shotgun at Aldrete. The driver raised his hands; they were empty, Compean, Juarez and Aldrete would all agree in statements to investigators and in court testimony. At least two men — Aldrete and Compean — reported hearing another agent say, "Hit him." Compean swung his weapon, Juarez testified, but lost his balance and fell into the ditch, dropping his shotgun. Aldrete took off, headed for Mexico.
The stories diverge from there.

Juarez testified that he was walking toward the van when he heard shooting, turned and saw Compean firing his handgun. Compean reloaded, he testified, fired a few more shots and then dashed into the vega.

Contradicting that, Compean insisted he recovered from his fall and managed to tackle Aldrete, who threw dirt in his face and took off running again. Compean said he started shooting because he thought he saw something "black, shiny" in the suspect's hand. Testimony revealed that Compean fired about 14 times.

Ramos testified that he heard gunfire, ran into the vega and saw Compean on the ground. He fired once, he said, because "I believed I saw a gun."

Compean and Ramos walked back toward the drainage ditch. Some 743 pounds of marijuana were discovered inside the van.

Aldrete testified that he never had any gun or anything "shiny" in his hands. More striking were the agents' own conflicting stories and actions — and the trial testimony of other Border Patrol officers.

In a written statement, Compean said Ramos was "standing next to me" when Ramos took the final shot. At trial, Compean testified that he was on one knee and getting to his feet when Ramos ran by him and fired, but he said he didn't see Ramos shoot.

In his statement, Compean said he and Ramos saw Aldrete climbing out of the Rio Grande into Mexico and he "looked like he was limping." He also acknowledged, "I think Nacho might have hit him." At trial Ramos testified, "I didn't see him limping."

Border Patrol policy requires that all weapon discharges be reported verbally to a supervisor within an hour. Once an agent-involved shooting is reported, a sector evidence team is sent to investigate to allow supervisors to determine whether the shooting was justified. The FBI is called. The fired weapon is held for examination.

None of this occurred that day.

Neither Compean nor Ramos reported the shooting. Instead, Compean admitted that he picked up and disposed of his spent bullet casings. Compean also failed to mention the gunfire in his drug seizure report, stating only: "The driver was able to abscond back to Mexico."

Compean did tell at least two other agents that he fired at the driver. One was Art Vasquez, who testified that he found, at Compean's request, five other shell casings — and threw them into the drainage ditch.
"So you destroyed the scene for someone that you worked with?" prosecutor Debra Kanof asked him at trial.

"Yes, ma'am."
Vasquez and the other agents and supervisors on the scene all testified that neither Compean nor Ramos ever told them that the suspect had something that looked like a gun.

Border Patrol brass in El Paso and investigators at the Department of Homeland Security's Office of Inspector General learned of the shooting two weeks later from an agent in Arizona. His mother-in-law had received a call from her childhood friend, Aldrete's mother, whose son was claiming he'd been shot by the Border Patrol.
Both mothers wondered: Could it be true?

Appeals planned

Retired Border Patrol agent David Ham, a former assistant chief in El Paso, trekked out to the shooting scene not long ago. He wanted to see it for himself as the national outrage grew. "They're picking the wrong guys to make heroes," he said.

The public's image of the border — a stereotype framed by "insecurities and anxiety" — partly explains support for the agents, said Howard Campbell, a cultural anthropologist at the University of Texas at El Paso.
"They think this is just one emblematic case of the border being out of control," he said. "That's the imagery. … That overrides the facts."
Ramos' lawyer said the case, instead, represents a contradiction between "the reality on the riverbank and the bureaucracy of regulations."

"They're out there in life-and-death situations, and then when something happens — just to hell with them?" said attorney Mary Stillinger.

Appeals are planned, and calls for a presidential pardon have intensified after reports that Ramos was beaten in prison. A primary source of contention is the 10-year statutory sentence the agents received on one charge.

Two jurors also signed affidavits on behalf of the defense, saying they did not think Ramos and Compean were guilty of some counts on which they were convicted.

Another juror, who asked to be identified only as Bob G., told the AP he stands by his decision at trial.

"They were clearly guilty," he said. "This thing, 'They were just doing their job.' Well, what kind of job were they doing?"

It's true, that until that day, the agents had been productive employees, said Luis Barker, retired chief of the El Paso Border Patrol sector and the agents' former boss.

It's also true that the smuggler, whose urethra was severed in the shooting, was given immunity for his actions that day in exchange for his testimony. He has filed a $5 million claim with the government.

Barker understands how some might see that as a cruel twist of fate.
"But the rule of law still applies," he said. "If this guy's running away and he's shot in the butt, then he's obviously not a threat. OK, 'Well, I thought he had something in his hand.' Then why didn't you tell that supervisor?
"The long and short of it is, the system worked," Barker said, "as it should have."

http://www.azstarnet.com/sn/border/169670