THE ROAD AHEAD IS RIDDLED WITH POTHOLES

Defendants and Law Enforcement Officials Discuss Recent Medical
Marijuana Mobile Dispensary Raids

San Luis Obispo County has what one might call a turbulent
relationship with medicinal marijuana.

While qualified patients depend on medical cannabis to soothe their
pain, stimulate their appetite, or allow them to sleep, cities across
the county have banned dispensaries through city ordinances. Since
Morro Bay businessman Charles Lynch became a national figure following
the high profile DEA raid instigated by former Sheriff Pat Hedges,
cities and unincorporated communities have taken a NIMBY approach to
medical marijuana dispensaries.

Though hundreds of county residents possess doctors' recommendations
for medical cannabis, most had to make the trip to Santa Barbara or
Oakland to fill a prescription.

However, in October 2009, New Times reported on the growth of mobile
medical marijuana providers on the Central Coast ("Within the law,
under the radar," Oct. 14, 2009). These providers bring medicine to
people who can't make the trip out of the county.

Drivers for Atascadero-based Cannafornia Health Services took New
Times for a ride-along to put their services in perspective and meet
those who rely on medical marijuana to ease their afflictions.

Just more than a year later, Cannafornia Health Services would be one
of seven local collectives targeted in the county's latest law
enforcement crackdown on medical marijuana suppliers.

The owners and operators arrested in the operation say they were
following the law. The San Luis Obispo County Narcotics Task Force
(NTF) disagrees. Now, all eyes are on the District Attorney's Office
to see if SLO County's interpretation of state medicinal marijuana
laws will once again make the front pages of national news.

The Law

The latest chapter in the county's tumultuous relationship with
medicinal marijuana began the night of Dec. 27, 2010.

Roughly 50 agents, participating in a large-scale NTF investigation,
would serve eight search warrants over the next three days, leading to
15 arrests.

Officers raided residences in Paso Robles, Templeton, Atascadero, and
Pismo Beach, as well as Tarzana, a neighborhood district in Los
Angeles' San Fernando Valley.

Local media reported what few details were made readily available,
most of which came from a muddy California Department of Justice press
release. At first glance, the evidence reportedly seized in the raids
seemed damning: four grams of cocaine, 57 lbs. of marijuana, 162
marijuana plants, 146 grams of hash, 718 grams of hash oil, seven
firearms, and $492,931 in "U.S. currency."

The NTF appraised the total value of the cocaine, marijuana, and hash
at nearly $3.5 million.

Fifteen people-including three from the Los Angeles area-were arrested
on charges that included cultivation of marijuana, marijuana sales,
possession with intent to sell, possession of cocaine for sale, and
child endangerment.

Additionally, six children were placed in protective custody by the
SLO County Department of Child Welfare Services at the request of the
NTF.

The operation was, by all accounts, industrious and boasted
cooperation from the Santa Barbara regional Narcotic Task Force, the
San Luis Obispo County Sheriff's Department, the Santa Barbara County
Sheriff's Department, SLOPD, Santa Maria PD, and the California
Highway Patrol.

But there's more to the story than the NTF-approved press release.
Collectives-even the mobile kind-are protected from prosecution under
state law as long as they abide by the rules. The problem: not
everyone agrees on the specifics of those rules.

In 1996, California voters passed Proposition 215, the Compassionate
Use Act, decriminalizing the cultivation and use of marijuana for
those with a doctor's recommendation. The law was further expanded in
January 2004 with Senate Bill 420, which established the Medical
Marijuana Program and mandated an identification card system for
patients and caregivers.

In 2008, the Office of the Attorney General sought to define the rules
for operators of collectives and cooperatives by publishing a set of
guidelines for law enforcement and users of medicinal cannabis to
better understand how they're allowed to cultivate, transport,
possess, and use medicinal marijuana.

According to the guidelines, a "collective" is a group that cultivates
medical marijuana for its patients and caregiver members, and
facilitates the collaborative efforts of its members-including
allocation of costs and revenues. As such, the document reads, a
collective may have to function as a business to carry out its activities.

According to NTF, collectives are allowed to divvy up cultivated
marijuana to their members, but NTF Commander Rodney John told New
Times in an early January phone interview that those arrested in the
investigation broke the law by accepting cash for the medical marijuana.

"They are in violation of many of [the guidelines]," John said. "It's
very clear on what you can and cannot do, and they're not following
any of it."

"Our clients aren't defending on the grounds that they were primary
caregivers," said Patrick Fisher, of the SLO-based law firm Fisher &
Fisher, which is representing a majority of the defendants. "They're
defending on the grounds that they were operating legally as a
collective, only selling to members of their collectives for no
profit. And that's protected."

According to John, the Attorney General's guidelines are merely
opinion, and not, in fact, state law.

"He's right. But he's also not telling the whole story," Fisher said.
"Some of our clients were saying the agents told them, 'The Attorney
General's guidelines don't mean shit.' Well, sorry, but they do mean
shit. They should be given substantial weight. And that's really the
thing-the guidelines are consistent with the law."

Under the guidelines, collectives aren't authorized to profit from the
sale of marijuana; they must only sell to members; and they must
obtain a seller's permit and pay sales tax for all
transactions.

"These people, they weren't making dough on this. In fact, some were
losing thousands of dollars on this," Fisher said. "But they did it
because they believe in providing this service to people who need it."

Fisher told New Times that recent case law, such as 2008's People v.
Mentch, has helped define the state's understanding of caregivers and
collectives with regard to medical marijuana, and case law has been
ignored by law enforcement.

"The law isn't as complicated as some would like to make it seem. It's
not," Fisher said.

Though there's disagreement about specifics of the law between police
and the legal community, Fisher said every indication so far is that
his clients didn't break the law.

That opinion seemed validated on Jan. 11, when, during a second round
of preliminary hearings, prosecutors rejected three of the 15
defendants' cases.

"It's been a hot potato, with the Tamagnis, especially," Fisher said,
referring to Rachel and Chip Tamagni, whose Paso Robles home was
raided after their Trilogy Health Services collective was targeted in
the investigation. "I was informed that their file was actually put on
[District Attorney] Gerald Shea's desk. Now, that raises concerns for
me because that tells me maybe nobody else knows how to approach this."

Deputy District Attorney Jerret Gran said the cases in question were
kicked back to law enforcement for further investigation and that he
hadn't been informed whether charges might yet be filed on the
Tamagnis-but "it is a possibility."

"Up to this point, [the DA's people] really haven't done anything but
reject [charges]. So I think they deserve a pat on the back," Fisher
said. "I think so far they're handling things reasonably."

The Operation

According to the NTF's press release, the investigation began after
agents received information "that several individuals were selling
marijuana through mobile marijuana dispensaries."

The statements of probable cause drafted by NTF investigators used to
secure the eight search warrants provide more details about how the
investigation was conducted.

According to the records, on Oct. 8, 2010, a SLOPD detective was
instructed to go undercover and seek a medical marijuana evaluation
from San Luis Obispo-based physician Dr. Atsuko Rees. The officer,
operating under the alias Amy Dobson, complained of back pain, paid
$150, and was issued a recommendation for medicinal marijuana. Rees'
office then provided the officer with a list of local medical
marijuana delivery services.

One of those listed was Trilogy Health Services. On Nov. 9, the
officer contacted Rachel Tamagni to set up an appointment. Rachel
reportedly verified Dobson's physician recommendation and arranged to
meet Dobson. In order to conduct the controlled buys, officers used a
vacant apartment on the 1100 block of Leff Street in San Luis Obispo.

"I knew something was hinky," Rachel said in an interview with New
Times. "There was nothing in [the apartment]. It was empty: hardly any
furniture, anything on the walls, just a big tall bong sitting in the
corner."

According to the reports, Rachel required that Dobson provide a copy
of her recommendation and had her fill out forms initiating Dobson's
membership to the collective. Rachel then explained the rules of the
Medical Marijuana Program. The officer bought a quarter-ounce for $75,
and Tamagni left.

"It's funny, nowhere [in the records] is it mentioned-even though I'll
bet it's recorded-that Rachel even offered to bring down her massage
table and do reflexology to Amy [for her back]," Chip Tamagni said.
"We gave Amy a brochure for all our services-health services, which
are free to members of our collective."

Dobson scheduled a second delivery to the Leff Street apartment about
a week later, followed by a third at a public parking lot on Dec. 15.

The Tamagnis say they started Trilogy Health Services for all the
right reasons. Rachel, who said she was misdiagnosed with bipolar
disorder at a young age, was prescribed a galaxy of prescription drugs
and soon found herself battling depression because of them.

She said that changed when she got herself off the pharmaceuticals and
obtained her physician's recommendation for medicinal marijuana. She
earned a certificate from the International Institute of Holistic
Healing and Health, and in 2009 got a business license for health and
fitness counseling.

Chip also got his recommendation after being prescribed Xanax for
anxiety attacks following the loss of the couple's home in a 2004
fire. Chip, who owns a tree-trimming business, said the constant
regimen of Xanax was a detriment to his safety in his profession.

They apparently made all the proper arrangements, attending a course
on legal operation from attorneys at Greenway University in Oakland,
filing a fictitious business statement, acquiring a seller's permit,
and paying sales tax.

"We said, 'If we're going to do this, let's do it right,'" Chip
said.

The couple said the business progressed to a collective when they
discovered some of their friends possessed recommendations.

"This was never about money," Rachel said. "It was about people's
right to choose. Safely. With dignity."

At approximately 7 a.m. on Dec. 28, 2010, Chip remembers stepping out
to his driveway to warm up his truck. He went back inside to say
goodbye to his wife before he set off for another day of work.

Chip said there was a pounding at the door, and he opened it to find
12 to 15 officers with hands on their firearms. He said the
couple-Rachel had just emerged from the bathroom-was instructed to sit
in their living room while the officers went through their belongings,
confiscating a computer hard drive, a briefcase containing their
clients' information, roughly 8 to 10 ounces of marijuana, and a
binder containing all of the collective's paperwork and legal documents.

"I asked to see the search warrant and was told, 'We'll get to that
later,'" Rachel said. "I told him, 'We have all our legal paperwork
right by the door.' And he just picked it up and threw it into a box."

The Tamagnis said their three dogs began to "go crazy" over the
commotion and were locked in a bathroom.

"It wasn't until two hours after they started tearing through
everything and we were told we were going to be arrested that I
realized nothing mattered to them," she recalled. "We were never
presumed innocent. We were guilty."

The Tamagnis were handcuffed, placed in a van, and taken to county
jail where they were booked on suspicion of felony sale of marijuana
and possession with intent to sell.

The couple spent the day in jail, and upon their release found they
had another worry to contend with. They said they returned home to
find Tiki, their Chihuahua, was still shaking and had developed a
"reverse sneeze." They took her to the vet, who gave her medication.

"When we got up the next morning, she was stiff," Chip said solemnly.
"It was her eighth birthday."

He said the veterinarian told him the stress from the incident "could
have absolutely contributed" to the death of their dog, which they had
long known had a heart murmur.

As of this printing, the Tamagnis remain in a legal No Man's Land: No
charges have been filed, but they're not off the hook, either. Their
confiscated property hasn't been returned, and they say they're
fighting daily to cope with the resulting anger and paranoia.

"It's horrible. We don't know if they're following us, we don't know
if they're targeting us, if they're going to try to entrap us. We just
have no idea," Rachel said. "It's like being held hostage."

"Our house, we could clean it for hours straight, and it's still going
to feel dirty," Chip said. "I don't know if we'll ever be comfortable
living there again."

"The reality is, though, that even after all this, I would still
provide [Amy Dobson] with medication if she asked, because she is a
member of our collective and she has a valid, verified
recommendation," Rachel said.

Another Story

Chris and Amy Austin took over operation of Open Access Foundation
collective in August 2010. Chris, a real estate and mortgage broker,
and Amy, a real estate agent and stay-at-home mother of two, aren't
the type of people you would imagine managing a marijuana collective.

The Austins were also contacted by Dobson on Nov. 4. After checking
all her paperwork and adding her as a member to the collective, Austin
sold her an eighth of an ounce for $50.

On the morning of Dec. 28, 2010, the Austins' home was raided by 15 to
20 officers armed with flak jackets, automatic rifles, ski masks, and
search dogs. Austin said helicopters were hovering overhead.

"The whole house was shaking," Chris said. "I thought the kids were
jumping around or something at first."

Chris said officers involved in the search were unprofessional and
"nasty," forcing his mother-in-law to the ground, causing a four-inch
cut to her leg, and staring and making comments about his wife-who
wasn't properly dressed-as she lay handcuffed on the ground.

After watching agents "rip through" their house, the Austins and Amy's
brother, who was visiting from Arizona, were piled into a van where
they met six other collective operators who were arrested throughout
the night. They said one of the van's occupants was forced to urinate
in the van after being held there for hours, pleading with officers to
take him to a restroom.

The Release

According to Fisher and other sources familiar with the investigation
and subsequent arrests, the Dec. 30 media release from the NTF
regarding the arrests painted a "misleading" portrait of the situation.

John later told New Times that the cocaine found was from a residence
in Tarzana. Additionally, John said the seven firearms confiscated
during the searches were legal and registered, but because California
health and safety code prohibits firearms in the proximity of
narcotics-and because the officers suspected the owner to be already
in violation of the Compassionate Use Act-the marijuana was considered
a narcotic, and therefore, the firearms were de facto illegal.

The release also claimed $492,931 "in U.S. currency" was seized.
However, John said that figure was a combination of cash and funds
from the 15 suspects' bank accounts.

New Times also took a look at the figure for the total haul:
$3,482,308. According to a random survey from the online menus of five
California medical marijuana dispensaries, and conversations with a
number of their owners and operators, that figure seems highly inflated.

One San Diego-based collective operator-who offered to help on the
condition of anonymity-said even the most liberal estimate for the
marijuana buds and plants, the hash, hash oil, and even the street
value for the four grams of cocaine came to less than half of the
NTF's appraised amount, at $1,639,840.

"I don't know where they would come up with that figure, but it's not
surprising," the operator said. "And for seven collectives? It still
doesn't seem like all that much medicine."

"It was all the police's version of reality. They see it their way,
and the rest of the world sees it another way," Austin said of the
press release. "It's just ludicrous that they would put out a
statement like that, which was so defamatory to everybody that was
arrested.

"They lumped everybody together and made it sound like we were all one
big conspiracy," he said.

The NTF

The timing of the operation, on the cusp of a new sheriff taking over
as the county's top lawman, had many residents pointing fingers at
outgoing Sheriff Pat Hedges. However, the NTF's makeup suggests the
county's various city police departments may have played a larger role
in the current operation than the Sheriff's Department.

The NTF is operated by the California Department of Justice's Bureau
of Narcotic Enforcement, and, as such, holds statewide jurisdiction.
It's overseen by Cmdr. John, who supervises a revolving staff of seven
to 10 investigators from local contributing police departments, the
District Attorney's Office, the San Luis Obispo County Probation
Department, and the California Highway Patrol.

Operations are voted on by the NTF's Board of Governors-or "the
BOGs"-according to the current chair, Pismo Beach Police Chief Jeff
Norton, who took over for Paso Robles Chief Lisa Solomon in early
January 2011.

Norton explained the NTF operates on an annual budget of roughly
$50,000, which comes from participating city departments, some of
which contribute a full-time officer to the NTF or funding. Norton
said a typical annual contribution averages roughly $20,000.

Morro Bay is currently the only city department in the county that
doesn't contribute funding or personnel to the NTF.

The state pays for housing, training, and personnel costs, Norton
said.

Asked if he was familiar with some of the complaints about the recent
operation, Norton said he understands the emotion involved with the
issue of medical marijuana, and he was sorry to see one of the
individuals arrested in the raids soil himself in the escort van after
waiting for hours to be transported to county jail.

"That was an unfortunate thing, and it shouldn't have happened,"
Norton said.

Norton said the motivation for this operation came after learning
about some of the problems Los Angeles was having with regulating its
storefront dispensary operators, and was heightened by a pair of
recent medical marijuana-related home invasion robberies in Morro Bay
and Los Osos.

Norton said profit lies at the heart of the issue and that he agrees
the law is murky. But he said he expects the new sheriff to take a
lead in drafting local law enforcement agents' expectations for
collectives operating in the county.

The Battle Rages On

Norton isn't the only one looking for clarity from the new sheriff. On
Jan. 11, following the December NTF operation, defendants and a number
of concerned residents protested the raids with members of the
pro-medical marijuana group Americans for Safe Access (ASA) on the
steps of the County Courthouse.

"It's been 15 years since voters passed Prop. 215, and law enforcement
still can't seem to get a grasp of the law," Linda Hill, spokeswoman
for the local chapter of ASA, said after the rally. "We hope the
public agencies and government officials will really take heed to this
and finally listen."

Rachel Tamagni also spoke before the County Board of Supervisors at
their Jan. 11 meeting to share their outrage over the operation. Two
supervisors later voiced similar concerns and confirmed they'll be
speaking with Sheriff Ian Parkinson to clarify his stance on medical
marijuana.

"I want to be sure that the sheriff is applying his precious resources
in a rational way," District 2 Supervisor Bruce Gibson said, adding
that he's not familiar with the specifics of any of the defendants'
cases. "I would hope that he would pursue violations of our drug laws,
but not a fruitless pursuit of those following the rules."

Parkinson, meanwhile, told New Times he's currently researching case
law and, with the help of his staff, is drafting specific guidelines
for his officers in the department's own narcotics unit. As sheriff,
Parkinson now holds a seat on the BOGs, and he hopes the expectations
for collectives he drafts for the Sheriff's Department will "bleed
into" the NTF.

Many are watching to see if Parkinson follows statements made during
his summer campaign to take a logical approach to medical marijuana
and target dispensaries and collectives who are in clear violation of
the law. Others are wondering what Parkinson knew about the NTF
operation and when he knew it.

"I wasn't here when the raid happened. When I say I was briefed, I was
briefed after they had made these arrests," Parkinson told New Times.
"As to what the motivation behind it was, it was kind of assumed [the
NTF] felt clearly that they were violating the law, and they got
search warrants, so I didn't ask those questions."

One local attorney said that according to the records, the SLOPD
played a major role in the operation, using at least two of its SORT
(Situation-Oriented Response Team) officers to conduct the undercover
transactions. The NTF agent in charge of the operation, Jason Dickel,
is also a full-time SLOPD officer, and the dummy apartment the NTF
used was in downtown SLO, he noted. As SLOPD captain, he said,
Parkinson should have known about the investigation before the arrests.

"I walked in [as sheriff] right after this incident happened, of
course, and everybody calls and wants to talk to me about it, and I
haven't much detail-I've just been briefed that they've made these
arrests," Parkinson said, largely pleading ignorance.

Parkinson said he stands by his pledge to take a rational approach to
medical marijuana collectives and that those who follow the rules
should be given equal protection under the law.

"If Joe Citizen wants to participate in this and wants to provide
medical marijuana to somebody who has a legitimate doctor's
recommendation, I want them to comply," he said. "But there are people
that want to operate under [Proposition] 215 publicly to the rest of
us, but the truth is they're not, and they know they're not, and
they're organized crime. ... And it hurts those who are trying to do
it legitimately."

Meanwhile, the Tamagnis, while trying to resume life as usual, always
keep their cell phones within reach, awaiting a final word on their
case.

"Everything's in limbo. Every time the dogs bark, we wonder if they're
staging to come again. Every time I get out to warm up my truck in the
morning, I'm looking up and down the street wondering if they're
coming again," Chip said. "We feel like we're prisoners in our own
home, basically."

"This whole thing is about a misunderstanding of the law by law
enforcement. And the DA's Office has the unfortunate task of trying to
clean it up," attorney Fisher said, adding that all his clients are
prepared to take their cases to trial if necessary.

He added: "It's like law enforcement rounded all these people up and
then just unloaded everything on the DA's office and said, 'Here, you
figure it out-we know they did something wrong.