FRIENDS REMEMBER RAINBOW FARM

Two Years Later, Supporters Rally, Look for Meaning in Deaths of Men.

Cassopolis -- There's something to be said for having friends.

They're there to provide support when it's needed. They don't point fingers
and judge. And, as a group of friends of the late Grover "Tom" Crosslin and
Rolland "Rollie" Rohm proved Monday, they'll stand on the sidewalk in a
driving rain to make sure people don't forget.

More than 20 supporters of the former owners of the Rainbow Farm Campground
braved the soggy afternoon to stand outside the Cass County Courthouse,
hoisting placards and waving tie-dyed flags in observance of the second
anniversary of a lethal standoff at the Vandalia campground that left both
Rohm, 28, and Crosslin, 46, dead of police-inflicted gunshot wounds.

To people like Melody Karr of Mesick, Mich., the two died defending
something they believed in. And that, she said, is reason enough to make
sure their sacrifice is not forgotten.

"We need to do this every year," she said, holding a yellow sign that
proclaimed Rohm and Crosslin "casualties" of a war on drugs. "Tom and
Rollie were good people -- not the animals the police made them out to be."

As outspoken activists for legalizing the currently illegal use of
marijuana, Crosslin and Rohm were known for the pro-legalization festivals
they held at the 37-acre campground, which was owned by Crosslin. They
attracted thousands of visitors, and often featured bands, speakers and
other attractions.

But the festivals also attracted the attention of law enforcement
officials, who alleged that there was rampant drug use and sales at the
events. Using undercover surveillance and other techniques, police were
eventually able to gather enough evidence to file criminal drug charges
against both men

The situation eventually escalated to the point that the campground was
threatened with possible seizure, and both men were facing possible prison
time. And that, many believe, is what drove them to barricade themselves in
the campground on Labor Day weekend 2001, then begin to systematically burn
buildings on the property.

After a helicopter from WNDU-TV of South Bend took rifle fire while flying
over the campground, FBI officials and Michigan State Police units blocked
off the property and began maintaining a 24-hour surveillance.

After four days of a tense standoff, Crosslin was killed Sept. 3, 2001, by
an FBI sharpshooter, after reportedly pointing a rifle at him while walking
to a neighboring home for food.

Rohm was killed the next day, after setting the farmhouse he shared with
Crosslin on fire and heading into an open area behind the home. Michigan
State Police troopers in an armored vehicle moved in to arrest him, but he
was shot when he reportedly raised a rifle and aimed it at the vehicle.

Since that time, friends of both men, regular Rainbow Farm visitors and
even those who just believed in the legal reform they were fighting for,
have held rallies, vigils and remembrances in support of two men they say
died needlessly.

But not in vain.

"The (legalization) movement is growing stronger," Larry Lippert, Michigan
director of the National Organization for the Reform of Marijuana Laws,
said. "We're growing, and I believe that you will see some things really
start to happen in 2004.

"I believe (Crosslin and Rohm) helped to make that happen."

In Cassopolis on Monday, passing cars, their occupants warm and dry, honked
and waved or flashed the peace sign at the soaked supporters on the corner.
The high ratio of cheers to jeers brought smiles to the faces of those in
attendance, as they remembered Crosslin, Rohm and the fun times spent at
what, by most accounts, was a special campground.