Outgoing sheriff looks back on storied career
Decades ago the Lincoln County sheriff
would answer nighttime emergency calls from home – a one-bedroom
apartment in the courthouse basement next door to the jail.
Daryl Anderson recalls those days
because in 1966, a few months shy of his 21st birthday, he became a
deputy. He was able to survive off a meager monthly salary of $285,
he said, because the state paid gas mileage at a rate of 11 cents
per mile. The sheriff and his two or three deputies supplied their
own car, gun, ammunition and equipment.
“They gave you a radio and a red light
and you had to insure your own vehicle,” recalled three-term
sheriff Anderson, who is retiring this month after a nearly 45-year
law-enforcement career in Lincoln County.
With a silver star pinned to his chest,
Anderson takes his job of serving and
protecting the public seriously. He is
of a generation that calls them as they see them – a trait that has
worked for him in law enforcement but not always in the political
arena.
“It’s sad that you’ve got to be a
politician to be sheriff,” he said. “That’s the one thing that I
was not good at, I’ll guarantee that, but you have to do it to be
elected.”
While Anderson relishes in the good –
sending bad guys to jail, helping earn the department much-needed
grant money and participating in Special Olympics – he can’t easily
shake off the bad – unsolved crimes, innocent victims and the
criminals who got away.
The most traumatic event of Anderson’s
career occurred in 1968 when he was still wet behind the ears. A
deputy called Anderson in a panic, relaying that he had accidently
shot his wife while cleaning a gun.
“He said, ‘My God, Daryl, get there as
fast as you can,’” he recalled.
On scene, Anderson realized that his
fellow officer beat the woman to death.
The murder tainted the reputation of
all Lincoln County law-enforcement agencies.
“It took about 2-1/2 years to live that
down in the law-enforcement field,” Anderson said. “They looked at
all of us as wife killers.”
Anderson and the sheriff arrested the
deputy, whose murder one charge was reduced to voluntary
manslaughter. The man who killed his wife in front of their two
small children spent less than 10 years in prison.
The injustice stung most when Anderson
came upon the man after he was released.
“There he was with his new bride, about
eight to nine years later,” Anderson recalled.
Another poignant memory for Anderson is
the 1987 murder of 8-year-old Ryan Van Luchene. He had been netting
minnows on Flower Creek close to his home when a paroled sex
offender abducted, raped and brutally beat him to death. Close to
the case, Anderson still sees red when he talks about Van Luchene’s
killer.
“I couldn’t even go down in my own
jail,” recalled Anderson, who was then a lieutenant. “I didn’t want
to look at him.”
Working together with people over the
years to better the county has offset the negative aspects of the
job. Anderson is proud to have been a founder of David Thompson
Search and Rescue, which has developed into a group capable of
complex, technical rescue missions. Through that agency, Anderson
and others founded Libby and Troy’s first volunteer ambulance
crew.
After a few years as a Lincoln County
deputy, Anderson moved to the Libby Police Department in 1970,
working his way up to assistant chief. In 1982, the city contracted
out its law enforcement to the county, so he became a deputy once
again.
He credits his old chief, Elvon “Cub”
Welch, and a Montana Highway Patrol trooper, James Jensen, for
molding him into the officer he became.
“Cub Welch taught me a lot about law
enforcement and being a public servant. You work for the people.
Treat people like you want to be treated yourself,” Anderson said.
“I got to say, they really steered me around to where I knew that
this is what I wanted to do for a career.”
Anderson has never taken a bullet,
though he has looked down the barrel of a many a gun over his
career. A collected demeanor goes a long way, he said, to diffuse
those stressful situations.
“There’s been a lot of different times
that there were guns involved but not to the point where you
couldn’t get them to put it down,” Anderson said. “There’s been
some harry times.”
In more recent years, as sheriff,
Anderson has had the department work with U.S. Immigration and
Customs Enforcement and the Border Patrol to provide intelligence
that has slowed illegal activity up north and landed the sheriff’s
office quite a bit of cash and equipment from seizures.
“It was a big plus for us because we
got to replace a lot of equipment, stuff that we wouldn’t have
before and that doesn’t have to be included in the budget,” he
said.
Anderson has also been involved with
the Montana Sheriffs and Peace Officers Association for the past 10
years, a group that, among other things, lobbies for bills that
support law-enforcement agencies.
“Used to be you’d be down there
sponsoring a few bills for yourself,” he said. “Now you’re down
there all the time defending yourself with all the different bills
they’re bringing up that’s going to tie the hands of law
enforcement.”
One of the biggest differences between
the sheriff’s position now and 12 years ago when he was first
elected, he said, is liability. The county’s insurance carrier
tends to set much of the department’s policy. Training has also
changed over time, along with the definition of “reasonable force,”
to protect the county from lawsuits.
“It’s a young man generation for
sheriff now,” Anderson said. “There are so many changes coming up.
You just get tired, burnt out from all the different things.”
He’ll enjoy retirement, but he doesn’t
plan to fall off the grid.
“I think the first year I’m going to do
a little fishing, but I’ll get back involved in some things –
Search and Rescue, for one,” he said. “I ain’t going to go
nowhere.”