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A Police Story:
Skill, Restraint, and Deadly Force By
Michael Hopping
Senior Writer, Asheville
mike.hopping@worldnet.att.net On the morning of March
15th, Billy Ray Surrett lost his job. The day went downhill
after that. He began drinking. By mid-afternoon, he’d allegedly
fired several .410 shotgun rounds—one into a car occupied by his
wife, Heather Surrett—and smashed the windshield with his fist.
Then he retreated into his mobile home on Bear Creek Road in
Leicester, thinking he’d killed her. Fortunately, he was wrong.
She hadn’t been hit and went to Asheville to file charges. (This
wasn’t Surrett’s first brush with the law. There were also
reports that he had a history of major mental illness.) Events
were about to take another potentially deadly turn. Aware of
last year’s fatal shootings of suspects by local law enforcement
officers, Surrett’s brother, sister, and a female family friend
named Sims sped to Bear Creek Road, hoping to defuse the
situation before BCSD arrived. Sims entered the trailer, where
she found Surrett suicidal and unwilling to give up his gun.
Outside, deputies with rifles surrounded the residence. A
hostage negotiator established telephone communications. Surrett
allegedly shot at deputies several times during the tense
three-way standoff that ensued. Lt. Dale DenOuden was slightly
wounded in the head by a pellet of birdshot.
When Surrett finally relinquished his shotgun and walked out
to an uneventful arrest, nobody was happier to see him unhurt
than the two arresting officers, Captain Wayne Welch and Sheriff
Van Duncan. Duncan’s voice busted its buttons with pride when he
later told me, “Our deputies showed a tremendous amount of skill
and restraint. I’m very pleased.” DenOuden, who leads of one of
the department’s two Response (SWAT) Teams, had a more aw shucks
response: “It went really well.”
Prior to his election as sheriff, Duncan talked about
creating Crisis Intervention Teams (CIT) to handle
life-threatening confrontations, particularly when mental
illness or substance abuse is involved. These teams would differ
from the SWAT approach by adding a hostage negotiator to the
mix. The negotiator would attempt to establish contact with a
suspect, whether or not there are hostages, and seek a peaceful
solution. CITs have yet to materialize in departmental policy.
But Duncan considers the Surrett case an example of what he’d
like to see. “We were able to handle this situation like a
Crisis Intervention Team would handle it,” he said. “We had the
chance to gather information first and knew what we were facing.
Second, we had deputies who were well-trained, including some
Response Team members. Third, we had a hostage negotiator.”
The Sheriff’s Perspective
In fact, the negotiator and the four officers who established
the perimeter around Surrett’s home were exceptionally
well-trained for their roles. Joining DenOuden on the front line
were the leader of the department’s other Response Team, the
department’s firearms instructor, and an officer with more than
two years experience in Iraq. Each carried an assault rifle
accurate well beyond 200 yards. Surrett’s .410, they knew, had a
fraction of that effective range.
The initial plan was to contain Surrett in the trailer, outside
his firing range but inside theirs, while telephone negotiations
proceeded. But the presence of extra people altered the
equation. Sims, fearful that the deputies intended to kill her
friend, was in and out of the mobile home. The brother and
sister maintained positions between officers and the trailer.
“Family members being there meant we had to be closer than we
wanted to be in case he came out shooting and they needed
immediate aid,” DenOuden said. He and another deputy advanced to
a well house about fifty yards from the mobile home and took
cover. Sims and the others refused instructions to get out of
the way. “They kept calling us killers and said we wanted to
shoot him,” DenOuden told me. “The family members said they
wanted it to end peacefully. I said we did too. Then he started
shooting at the deputies out the back window.” DenOuden was
wounded at the well house.
I asked DenOuden whether the family’s presence might have
influenced the decision to hold fire when deputies had a clear
shot at a man who was shooting at them. “No,” he said, mainly
because of the short effective range of .410 birdshot. “He shot
me, but we didn’t shoot back,” he reiterated.
Telephone negotiations and Sims’ in-person efforts were touch
and go. About an hour and forty-five minutes passed before
Surrett surrendered. “He was very upset and emotional,” Welch
recalled. “It was more mood swings than just from drinking. I
kept telling him we didn’t want him to get hurt. The female in
the trailer with him did a good job of helping talk him out.”
Surrett’s intoxication and emotional instability led the
sheriff’s department to take him to Mission Hospital for a
mental health / substance abuse commitment evaluation. (The
criteria for involuntary hospitalization include the presence of
a mental illness or substance abuse problem and dangerousness to
self or others.) Duncan and Welch were taken aback by the
hospital’s decision not to commit. “I was surprised when I heard
he hadn’t been committed,” said Welch. “I thought he needed
help, or I would have had him taken straight to jail on the
warrants we had on him.” Following his release from the
emergency room, Surrett did go to the Buncombe County Detention
Facility. He remains there, charged with two counts of attempted
murder. Another View
Dissatisfied with press coverage of the incident, Ms. Sims wrote
a long letter to the Asheville Citizen-Times and WLOS TV. In it
she gives her perspective on Mr. Surrett and the events of that
March evening. Her account is a gripping testament to the level
of distrust present in some parts of this community as well as
the panic associated with trying to help a suicidal man as he’s
being surrounded by officers with guns. It is published in its
entirety elsewhere in this issue. The
Aftermath Factors leading to the medical decision
not to commit Surrett are unknown, due to the confidentiality of
medical records. However, representatives of Mission Hospital
and Broughton State Hospital in Morganton were able to speak
generally about the realities of public inpatient care for
involuntary cases such as this might have been. Mental health
reform in North Carolina has resulted in more rather than less
pressure on state hospital beds. Cuts in the number of those
beds available to acutely ill and dangerous patients may be
stressing the inpatient system dangerously close to its own
breaking point. Jon Berry, Chief Financial Officer and media
spokesman for Broughton, confirmed press accounts of
overcrowding at his hospital and sister institutions. Recently,
he said, the NC Division of Health and Human Services
implemented an admission diversion protocol for state hospitals.
It kicks in when the patient census reaches 110% of maximum
capacity. In other words, when Broughton has 10% more patients
than officially approved beds to put them in, the state says the
hospital can close its doors to admissions. But desperately ill
and dangerous people continue to flow into emergency rooms
throughout the region. To find beds for them, Berry told me,
calls first go out to the other state hospitals. If an open bed
is found, the patient is transported there. When all state
hospitals are closed to admission, the state has backup
contracts with psychiatric units at Grace Hospital in Morganton
and Frye Regional Medical Center in Hickory. But these
facilities may also be full or unwilling to admit a patient
suspected of having a problem the unit can’t handle. (High
violence potential, for example, may torpedo community hospital
admission.) If nothing is available statewide, the referring
emergency room is told to hold the patient and call Broughton
again after eight hours. Speaking on behalf of Mission, Janet
Moore said that there were already occasional Broughton transfer
delays before the state hospital bed cuts and implementation of
the diversion protocol. So far, the longest Mission Emergency
Department wait for a committed—and by definition
unwilling—patient has been approximately 24 hours. Meanwhile,
mental health services in the Buncombe County Detention Facility
have expanded in recent years, thanks to cooperation between the
sheriff’s office and local health agencies. A jail mental health
worker told me that she’s based there fulltime. A psychiatrist
is also on-site for a few hours each week. Evaluations and
treatment are routinely available for inmates with severe mental
illness or substance abuse issues. At any given time, 40-60 of
the jail’s 440 inmates are likely to be receiving these
services. Inmates whose mental health or substance problems
place them at especially high risk for re-arrest may also be
eligible for “wraparound” community-based treatment and housing
assistance after leaving jail. The
Crisis Intervention Team Back at the sheriff’s
department, plans to implement the CIT approach to deadly force
confrontations are ongoing. Chief Deputy Don Reavis offered this
status report: “Right now we’ve got about five people who are
interested in being trained in hostage negotiation. We’re just
looking for the best school that meets our needs.”
May their search be brief and
successful.
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