SIEGE RECALLED BY NEIGHBOR

Family, Friends Gather At Campground

Rainbow Farm Revisited

VANDALIA -- The irony of the violent deaths a year ago of marijuana- rights
activists Grover "Tom" Crosslin and Rolland Rohm on the Rainbow Farm
Campground where peace was the reigning theme hasn't been lost on
supporters of Crosslin and Rohm.

At an impromptu gathering Monday of supporters and family members at the
burned-out campground, Three Rivers area resident Robert Blivin recalled
the peaceful atmosphere that prevailed at the campground's popular Memorial
Day and Labor Day weekend festivals.

Buggy Brown, a neighbor of Crosslin's former farm and campground at 59896
Pemberton Road, said the concerts, featuring such entertainers as Tommy
Chong and the late Merle Haggard, would attract thousands but there was
seldom any trouble.

"You wouldn't have as much trouble as you would at a bar," he said.

Crosslin sponsored the concerts, in part to promote his strong belief that
marijuana should be decriminalized. The functions drew many who were quick
to sign petitions seeking to get Michigan lawyer Greg Schmid's Personal
Responsibility Amendment on the state ballot.

Brown said he believes Crosslin and Rohm would be alive today had police
and the FBI backed off instead of surrounding the farmhouse.

"I always said they (authorities) didn't need to be out here," Brown
recalled. "Tom and Rollie weren't going anywhere. This was their home. They
weren't going to flee."

The two died on the fourth and fifth days of a five-day siege that began on
Aug. 31, 2001, when Crosslin and Rohm allegedly set fire to some of the
campground's buildings.

Surrounded by police, Crosslin was killed on Sept. 3 when he was spotted
outside the farmhouse raising his gun to shoot at an FBI agent, said Cass
County Prosecutor Scott Teter. A single round from a marksman ended
Crosslin's life.

Rohm died the next day after he allegedly set fire to the farmhouse and ran
outside, carrying a gun. He was shot when he raised the weapon to fire at
an approaching armored vehicle, Teter said.

As the intermediary that carried messages between Crosslin and Rohm and the
authorities, Brown played a key role in the standoff. He said Monday he
didn't believe initially the siege would end in tragedy.

"I felt that if the cops took their time, that it would have a peaceful
ending," he said.

He said he had lived in the area just two years and had only a casual
relationship with Crosslin and Rohm.

Yet he said he knew Crosslin well enough to recognize his close
relationship with Rohm's then 12-year-old son, Robert.

Robert, raised by the two since the age of 4, had been removed from the
property by a court order a short time before the standoff began.

Brown said Crosslin was probably more troubled by Robert's removal than the
drug charges he was facing and the notice he had received that the state
had initiated the process of confiscating his farm.

"Robert was probably one of the hardest things," Brown said. "When you come
to take a man's child ... based on total speculation. Then he (Crosslin)
danced through all the hoops to get him back and they still denied him."

While the siege was going on, Brown said he was struck by Crosslin's
relatively calm demeanor.

"He had his position he was standing for. He wasn't yelling or raving or
anything like that. Our conversations were normal," he said.

As for Rohm, Brown said he, too, appeared unconcerned by the police
presence outside the farmhouse.

"Rollie was just as mellow. He'd be watching soccer on TV, between the news
footage (coverage of the standoff), and he'd talk about the soccer games,"
Brown said.

"With Tom, it couldn't have been anything else ... but a shoot-to-kill
order," he said. "In a hostile situation, you go for the sergeant."