NO WEED, JUST DOPES

Travis County Sheriff's Dept. officers raided Sandy Smith's Hazy
Hills back yard last week, claiming they had seen marijuana growing
there. The real culprit? Mulberry weed, about as common in Texas as
fire ants.

As far as 30-year Hazy Hills resident Sandy Smith was concerned,
Tuesday, May 8, was a typical day off from her job at the Exxon
Neighborhood Convenience Store, where she has worked for 15 years.
But at about 2:30pm ("I was fixing to go to the grocery store and the
bank," she says) a Dept. of Public Safety helicopter began circling
her 2.5-acre property just off Hwy. 71 in Spicewood. "They came in
from a higher altitude and then dropped down right there," she says,
pointing to the rear of her property.

Just then the phone rang. A neighbor was calling to tell Smith that
he thought the helicopter was taking photos of the property. But
before Smith could even hang up the phone, she says, a swarm of cars
- -- Travis County Sheriff's cars, a couple of vans and SUVs marked
"Narcotics" and "Drug Enforcement," along with several unmarked
sedans -- pulled up in front of her house and unloaded a gaggle of
heavily armed officers. "They came from every direction, with their
guns drawn, and told me to 'spread 'em and drop that phone'," Smith
says. "I asked them, what did I do? What was going on? They told me
to 'shut up and don't worry about it.'" Meanwhile, her housemate,
Wayne Darling, came out of the house and was told to put his hands up
too. "They had what looked like 9mm [guns], and M-16s, assault
rifles, on us," Darling says. "There were at least 12 to 14 officers."

What had Smith and Darling done to deserve all the attention? "They
said they were looking for marijuana and that they had spotted some
behind my house," Smith says. "I told them, 'Well, have a look, I
wouldn't know the difference.'"

Smith said she and Darling were held at gunpoint for about 30 minutes
before a Travis County Sheriff's deputy returned from the back of the
house. "'This is the season for marijuana, and the helicopter spotted
what he thought was marijuana growing behind your house,'" Smith says
the officer told her. Upon examination, the officer said, the plants
were "just a weed that looks similar." As it turned out, the "weed"
in question -- which was growing in a roughly 8-by-10-foot patch
behind Smith's house -- was mulberry weed, about as common in Texas
as fire ants and dirt. "You don't even need binoculars to see this
isn't marijuana," said Sybil Autrey, Smith's friend and attorney. For
one thing, mulberry weed has three-fingered leaves, readily
distinguishable from cannabis leaves, which wilt almost instantly
when plucked from their stalks.

All the same, the officers took a garbage bag full of the mulberry
"for testing," Smith says. But that wasn't the end of it. When Smith
and Darling went back inside the house, they found that the place --
along with two other small houses on the property -- had been
"ransacked." The officers tore down some curtains, left magazines
scattered around, and left two BB guns, cocked, sitting on an easy
chair. "Nobody said anything about a warrant," says Autrey. "This was
just the ultimate harassment." Smith and Autrey say they have called
and written letters to Travis County Commissioner Todd Baxter and
Travis County Sheriff Margo Frasier. Aside from a short letter from
Baxter's office, Smith says, they haven't gotten a response.

Sheriff's office spokesman Roger Wade says his department is
investigating the incident for "any violations of policies or
procedures." "We're contacting everyone who was involved to get their
stories [about what happened] in writing," he says. Wade says he
isn't sure what prompted the raid, but that generally "these things
get started from people who call in and say, 'I've seen something,'
or, 'I think something is going on.'"

That jibes with Smith's suspicions. She says she's had problems with
"new" people complaining about everything from the number of people
living on her property to "playing our music too loud and talking too
loud." Smith said the least she expects is a formal apology. "This is
a small community, and everybody knows what happened. Now everybody
thinks I'm some kind of criminal," she says. "I mean, this totally
ruined my day off."