COCAINE, SAND AND A BUNCH OF FRIENDS

A Chummy Drug Ring At A Famed Beach Bar Shakes Up Pensacola's
Image Of Itself, As Solid Citizens Are Sentenced

PENSACOLA - There was no violence, no guns, no bling-bling. Just a group of
friends looking for some good coke at a good price. So they pooled their
money and sent Mitchell "Jackie" Seale, a 50-year-old beach bum, to Miami to
buy powdered cocaine a kilo at a time.

It worked perfectly for at least two years.

Seale would drive his beat-up Chevrolet Blazer 11 hours to Miami, buy
the drugs, drive back to Pensacola and distribute it to his friends.
They were mostly productive members of this Bible Belt town - a
millionaire, a middle school teacher, a substance abuse counselor. It
was such a casual enterprise some even wrote checks for their drugs
and cashed them at their favorite beach bar, the Sandshaker, owned by
Seale's friends and fellow cokeheads, Robert and Linda Murphy.

"This was not your typical cocaine conspiracy," said Clinton Couch, a
Pensacola defense attorney. "This was something different: It was a
cocaine cooperative."

It all started to unravel in October 2003, when federal agents buried
a microphone and camera in Seale's lawn. Two months later, 53 people
were arrested in one of the largest cocaine trafficking arrests in
Escambia County history.

All but eight have pleaded guilty or were convicted. Seale and the
Murphys are in federal prison. The Sandshaker, which had become a
local landmark after 30 years of business, was seized by federal
agents and will be auctioned off this week.

The arrests scandalized Pensacola, a city of 60,000 better known as a
hotbed of Christian fundamentalism. This is where an abortion clinic
was bombed on Christmas Day 1984, and in 1994, angry protests outside
an abortion clinic climaxed with the murder of an abortion doctor.
It's home to Dinosaur Adventure Land, a theme park run by creationists
that challenges the veracity of Darwin's theory of evolution.

"That's what was part of the shock to the community, because Pensacola
enjoys or is burdened - however you look at it - with conservative
values," said Couch. "There seems to be a niche or an isolated group
out on the beach which are not particularly conservative.

"I think that was what was surprising, that there's this other culture
out there. People who live a few miles inland were unaware of this."
"Not your stereotypical group'

Charlie Griffith started working drug crimes for the Escambia County
Sheriff's Office in 1997. Most of his cases were small crack buys, pot
busts, a few meth labs.

He and other detectives had heard the rumors about coke at the beach,
but it was nearly impossible to get information. The groups were too
tightly knit.

But in 2001, sheriff's detectives arrested local businessman Frank
Yonker on charges of bringing cocaine and marijuana to Pensacola from
Texas. During one of his interviews, Yonker told Griffith he sold
cocaine to Jackie Seale when Seale's Miami connection was
unavailable.

Griffith, along with a DEA agent and an FDLE officer, started focusing
on Seale, who was well-known in Pensacola Beach, a "good-time
Charlie," said his lawyer, Clinton Couch.

Seale took over his father's engineering business when his father
died, then sold the business and lived off the money.

He supplemented his income by selling cocaine.

Seale knew he had a problem - his girlfriend wanted him to quit - but
the lure of the drug was too great.

"He was a big, dumb teddy bear who happened to deal coke," said Chuck
Steele, a 59-year-old beach resident who knows many of the defendants,
including Seale. "He was so wide open about it."

Which made the investigation all the easier for authorities.

They checked Seale's phone records to see whom he was talking to,
creating a database. Griffith, a boyish-looking guy who wears Florida
State sweat shirts and jeans to work, pored over the information,
looking for patterns.

After 30,000 calls, they got a warrant to record Seale's phone
conversations.

The investigation blossomed. Detectives found that Seale was selling
to a cross-section of the community:

Robert Murphy, a 52-year-old insurance salesman with three children
and a love of fishing.

Linda Murphy, Robert's 51-year-old wife and owner of the Sandshaker
bar, who often volunteered at her daughter's school.

Pamela Reynolds, a 52-year-old middle school teacher and girls soccer
coach.

Charles Lamar Switzer, a wealthy, retired outdoor advertising company
executive who once served on the board of the Pensacola Junior College
Foundation.

Others implicated included two lawyers, a substance abuse counselor, a
hairdresser, a plumber, a chef and a boat captain.

"It's not your stereotypical group," said Griffith.

In October 2003, a judge authorized Griffith to install a camera in
Seale's home. It showed what detectives already knew: Seale was an
addict who snorted several grams a day.

Detectives wanted to wait a bit longer to make arrests, however. They
thought Seale was going to Miami before the holidays to buy cocaine
and wanted to gather more evidence and more defendants.

The agents dubbed the investigation Operation Sandshaker.

But on Dec. 8, a patch of trampled grass drew Seale's
attention.

He found a wire, followed it inside and discovered a camera in his
office.

But he wasn't worried.

"He thought his girlfriend had hired a private investigator," said
Assistant U.S. Attorney Acheson. "It never occurred to him that it was
the police." Mass arrests

Now that Seale knew about the camera, the arrests had to happen
fast.

Griffith and his boss, Sgt. Ricky Shelby, amassed nearly 100 officers
from around the state. They descended in a convoy to make the arrests.

Seale and his girlfriend were the first to be cuffed. They were nabbed
in her Honda Accord.

One by one, the others were arrested. The charges included money
laundering, conspiracy, trafficking and possession. Eleven people were
tried in federal court, the rest in state court.

"It was staggering; it just knocked us flat," said Steele. "It was a
big sense of betrayal, that the police had infiltrated so deeply."

Linda Murphy, facing a federal prison sentence, posted bail and
returned to the Sandshaker.

Just before Christmas, she tacked up a prayer next to her desk in the
back room of the bar.

"Prayer focus," it said. "Those struggling with strong emotions."
Landmark on the beach

The Sandshaker is the oldest and most famous bar on Pensacola
Beach.

It's a vestige of old Florida, where you could walk in barefoot, grab
a bag of chips and a cold beer before heading to the beach. Even
prosecutors and cops went there.

Murphy had started 30-odd years ago as a bartender at the Sandshaker;
she saved enough to buy the bar. She's known locally as the inventor
of the Bushwacker, a frothy, buttery, rum-based frozen drink that has
become a standard in bar guides.

"She was a hard worker," said Steele, who used to date
Murphy.

A Pensacola girl, Murphy married Robert 10 years ago. He was a
divorcee with a cocaine problem and two grown children, but she loved
him.

They had a daughter and a seemingly normal life.

Linda volunteered at her daughter's elementary school. Robert went to
work. But their shared cocaine addiction - and their friendship with
Jackie Seale - ultimately destroyed them.

Robert pleaded guilty and was sentenced to seven years in federal
prison. Seale pleaded guilty and received 15 years; he also gave
prosecutors enough information to arrest and convict his drug supplier
in Miami, Domingo "Chino" Gonzales.

Switzer, the retired millionaire, was convicted in state court on
cocaine trafficking and possession. He is awaiting sentencing.

As part of her deal with prosecutors, Murphy also entered a guilty
plea and allowed the government to seize not only her house, but also
the Sandshaker, because it had been used to launder money.

The bar has been closed since it was damaged by Hurricane
Ivan.

"It's unfortunate for Linda Murphy," said Acheson, the federal
prosecutor. "She had the most to lose."

In the federal court system, judges must sentence defendants based
upon guidelines, which are based on the amount of drugs sold.

Even with all of her cooperation, Chief U.S. District Judge Roger
Vison said the guidelines were "draconian," and delayed sentencing to
allow Murphy to testify against other defendants - thus reducing her
sentence by cooperating further with the government.

In return for her cooperation, she got a two-year federal prison
sentence, which she began Thursday.

Murphy sobbed as she was sentenced, and even thanked law enforcement
for ending her cocaine addiction.

"She's doing really well," said Stephanie Taylor, Linda Murphy's
sister. "She's ready to get it over with."

Many beach residents think the sentences were too harsh, especially
for people who don't have criminal records and are active, productive
community members.

"None of this stuff is reversible," said Steele.

Cops and prosecutors have a different view.

"Shouldn't a person that has the ability to run a family and a
business also have the ability to know right from wrong?" wondered
Sgt. Shelby.

"There are risks and rewards in life. Linda Murphy and the others took
the risks and now there's no reward."

Times researcher Caryn Baird contributed to this report.