Doug Frederick's day in court

Sitting next to the defendant was his attorney, Wayne Anthony Ross. Ross, a former president of the Alaska National Rifle Association and unsuccessful Alaska state gubernatorial candidate, drives a candy apple red Hummer whose license plates read “WAR.”

Ross is as thick as Frederick is thin. His large frame was festooned in a heavy twill wool suit, almost an olive drab color, not of a business style but rather that of one on safari. It seemed Mr. Ross was looking to bag himself some big game.

At the prosecution table sat Joe Darnell, attorney for the U.S. Department of the Interior’s Solicitor’s office. Mr. Darnell is a slight man with a round head. His hair is sandy blonde and neatly groomed. His voice and presence were almost apologetic. He was the meek to Mr. Ross’s macho. Sitting next to Mr. Darnell was Richard Larrabee, a full time criminal investigator for the National Park Service stationed in Glennallen. Mr. Larrabee, in a cream-colored suit, was almost invisible.

Assembled in federal court Room 6 were about twenty people.

On the right side of the aisle were a number of NPS employees including Hunter Sharp, who is the assistant superintendent and the park ranger who cited Mr. Frederick. Gary Candelaria, the park’s superintendent, sat in the same row with a seat in between them.

Two seats to the right of Candelaria sat Jane Hendrick. Her card reads that she is the “Regional Special Agent in Charge.” It does not say what she is in charge of. She told me she is the chief of law enforcement for the National Park Service. She reports directly to Washington. It is her job to oversee the prosecution of park offenders. A very friendly woman with a casual demeanor, she is here to observe the Park Service’s legal strategies and implement improvements where needed.

At 9:28 AM the court clerk stood and barked, “All rise; U.S. District Court in the District of Alaska is now in session. The Honorable Judge John D. Roberts, presiding.”

The trial followed the typical format, the prosecution presented his opening arguments, then the defense presented his, then the prosecution called his witnesses and then the defense cross-examined then they changed places. So the dance went.

The gist of the evidence was this: The Park Service posted some trails closed that they were claiming were “newly established.” In the spring of 2002 the Park Service scheduled a meeting at the very small Slana Ranger Station to discuss those closures. They did not widely publicize the meeting. Still, nearly one hundred people showed up.

Now the reader needs to understand the significance of that many people coming to a meeting in Slana.

First, these people don’t generally like meetings. That’s why they live way out there in the woods, to get away from meetings and people who like to show up for meetings.

Second, there is a lot of real estate that separates these people from one another. They don’t live in little houses right next door to each other. This meeting drew people from long distances, out of

half. He pointed out that the trails were becoming rutted from excessive use. He told them that the Park Service did not have any money to solve the erosion problems or do any maintenance. The community offered free labor and materials to the Park Service to resolve the erosion problem with the intent of keeping the trails in good repair and open. It seemed like the Park Service was open to the idea.

Some time after the meeting Doug Frederick and a couple of friends took pallets and planking into the park and built a sort of homemade bridge over three wet areas. They took photos and presented them to the Park Service. There were a number of meetings and communications between Frederick and various Park Service supervisors. Frederick got the impression that they liked his proposal until he got the citation, with a potential fine of five thousand dollars and a prison sentence, for “building a structure within the park without a permit.”

The NPS’s case against Frederick was simple.

1. Doug built “structures” in the park without a permit.

2. Park code also prohibits work of any sort in the park without a permit

3. Frederick wasn’t denying it.

4. They had photos— photos Frederick took himself and gave to them showing the work. Two buddies who helped him were in the photos.

5. Park Service regulations clearly prohibit him from doing what he did.

The defense’s case was more obtuse. Yes, Frederick did do erosion mitigation without a permit, but:

1. The bridges are not structures.

2. The Park Service gave Frederick the impression that he could build some proto-type “proposals” in the park to test the viability of the pallet/plank plan.

3. The Park Service likes these structures, uses them and hasn’t removed them because they work but still wants to prosecute Frederick for building them without a permit.

4. The Park Service’s seemingly tacit approval and encouragement of Mr. Frederick’s “proposals” amounted to entrapment.

5. Hunter Sharp has a personal vendetta against Frederick and cited him and not the two others who helped build the bridges.

6. Frederick’s daughter was killed in a car accident while on her way to Slana to return Frederick’s pick-up so he could come to town to see his attorney about this case.

Joe Darnell’s closing arguments had all the conviction of a man dropping off a few suits at the local dry cleaners. He went down the laundry list of what the regulations said and how Mr. Frederick failed to obey them. “This is not a question of trail stabilization. Mr. Frederick did not have a permit. You don’t go off willie nillie and do it without permission. This is a National Park and there are regulations.”

Ross’s delivery was passionate. His closing arguments painted a picture of a community frustrated by eroding trails, resistive park regulations, and overzealous and vindictive park rangers.

Mr. Ross pled, “Now if Mr. Frederick had done something wrong it would seem to me the neighborly thing to do would be for Mr. Sharp to say, ‘Hey, Doug, that’s not a bad suggestion there but listen, you gotta get a permit.’ Mr. Sharpe didn’t do that, he issued the citation. These are your neighbors, these are people that live in the park. They love the park far more than you. You’re temporary. They love the park, they’ve lived there all their lives, and that isn’t the way to treat your neighbor— especially a neighbor who’s trying to help, who realizes you don’t have money for these things, who gets the community together and tries to come up with a solution. That isn’t the way to treat him, to haul him into court. That’s why the Park Service gets a bad reputation for things like that.”

The Judge promised to return a verdict within a week. That was on December 9, 2003. It is much past a week and still no word.

Mr. Fredrick patiently waits.

The preceding are excerpts from a book in progress, An Angel Falls to Heaven, being written by Kurt Stenehjem about his supply flights into Hillbilly Heaven, his week with the Pilgrim Family after the crash of his airplane, his time in McCarthy waiting to recover the wreckage and his musings and observations of the family and the conflict. The book is full of drama, humor, romance, passion and intrigue. Used by Permission. Copyright 2003