Did not find anything posted on this yet.. Sucks to be him
Police chief's arrest is a major jolt to sleepy Northern California community of Blue Lake
The head of the tiny police force, accused of drugging and sexually assaulting his wife, collected enough guns at headquarters to arm a small platoon. He also allegedly kept unregistered guns at home.
BLUE LAKE, Calif. -- Just beyond the reach of the North Coast fog, this little community of 1,150 basked until recently under the protection of a police force of just four officers.
Four officers packing 31 submachine guns
The Blue Lake police force was armed on a par with a big-city SWAT team. And no Blue Lakers knew until Police Chief David Gundersen's life began to very publicly unravel.
In February, Humboldt County sheriff's deputies arrested Gundersen on suspicion of crimes in his own bedroom. Prosecutors have charged him with 33 counts, alleging that the chief repeatedly drugged his wife, a Blue Lake police sergeant, and forced her to have nonconsensual sex.
As investigators dug deeper into his private life, they discovered Gundersen's guns.
At home, he had a weapons cache that included a machine gun and a James Bond-style pistol with a silencer, both unregistered. At police headquarters, he had enough weaponry to arm a small platoon.
Gundersen, 53, advertised his love of guns on a MySpace page for "Gundy Bros," with a photo of a machine gun, the words "LIVE, LAUGH . . . LOVE" and the offer of "Weapon Systems/Sales and Services." In all, investigators seized 111 weapons -- nearly a quarter of them from his home.
The chief behind bars, the police force mothballed, City Hall under fire -- this was a seismic scandal for a bucolic town tucked peacefully in the Humboldt County redwoods.
But Blue Lake is handling it with a mix of civic reflection and gallows humor.
Some residents are talking of running a whole new slate of council candidates. A local playwright is using Gundersen's submachine guns as a plot line in his next production. At the venerable Logger Bar, a stand-up comedian lobbed one-liners about high-powered weapons and sleeping pills ("Honey, isn't it time for your nightcap?").
"This is like trying to picture Barney Fife with a submachine gun," said Al Clark, owner of Blue Lake Video.
The town that Dave Gundersen was hired to protect is a sleepy place five miles up Trinity Scenic Byway from the coast. The old lumber mill sits rusting. Today the biggest businesses are Mad River Brewing Co. and a nearby Indian casino. With plentiful sun and warmer temperatures than at the coast, Blue Lake residents include retirees, artist types and commuters to Humboldt State University in nearby Arcata.
Gundersen arrived in 1999 after a short run in nearby Trinidad and a controversial stint in the high desert city of Adelanto, where he was accused of theft (police union leaders attributed it to small-town politics).
In Blue Lake, he made an immediate impression.
No one thought the town had much crime until he arrived. But the chief bombarded the City Council with statistics showing an increase in vehicle break-ins, burglaries and other property crimes. City leaders now figure he was inflating the numbers to justify a ballooning budget, Councilwoman Karen Barnes said.
Detractors say they never liked his style.
"He wasn't the warm and fuzzy kind of small-town cop most wanted," Councilwoman Marlene Smith said.
"He's a classic passive-aggressive kind of guy -- the type to smile and then stab you in the back," said Michael Fields, artistic director of Dell'Arte International, a critically lauded local theater company and performing arts school.
Gundersen drew Fields' ire by calling the company's annual summer festival an unwelcome police headache. The police force also took to stopping the school's foreign-born students on the street, a practice Fields saw as racial profiling.
Dave Beebe, 59, got crosswise with the chief a couple of years ago over an improperly suspended driver's license. The county grand jury looked at Gundersen and his department's tactics, but nothing substantive came of it.

Police chief's arrest is a major jolt to sleepy Northern California community of Blue Lake
The head of the tiny police force, accused of drugging and sexually assaulting his wife, collected enough guns at headquarters to arm a small platoon. He also allegedly kept unregistered guns at home.
BLUE LAKE, Calif. -- Just beyond the reach of the North Coast fog, this little community of 1,150 basked until recently under the protection of a police force of just four officers.
Four officers packing 31 submachine guns
The Blue Lake police force was armed on a par with a big-city SWAT team. And no Blue Lakers knew until Police Chief David Gundersen's life began to very publicly unravel.
In February, Humboldt County sheriff's deputies arrested Gundersen on suspicion of crimes in his own bedroom. Prosecutors have charged him with 33 counts, alleging that the chief repeatedly drugged his wife, a Blue Lake police sergeant, and forced her to have nonconsensual sex.
As investigators dug deeper into his private life, they discovered Gundersen's guns.
At home, he had a weapons cache that included a machine gun and a James Bond-style pistol with a silencer, both unregistered. At police headquarters, he had enough weaponry to arm a small platoon.
Gundersen, 53, advertised his love of guns on a MySpace page for "Gundy Bros," with a photo of a machine gun, the words "LIVE, LAUGH . . . LOVE" and the offer of "Weapon Systems/Sales and Services." In all, investigators seized 111 weapons -- nearly a quarter of them from his home.
The chief behind bars, the police force mothballed, City Hall under fire -- this was a seismic scandal for a bucolic town tucked peacefully in the Humboldt County redwoods.
But Blue Lake is handling it with a mix of civic reflection and gallows humor.
Some residents are talking of running a whole new slate of council candidates. A local playwright is using Gundersen's submachine guns as a plot line in his next production. At the venerable Logger Bar, a stand-up comedian lobbed one-liners about high-powered weapons and sleeping pills ("Honey, isn't it time for your nightcap?").
"This is like trying to picture Barney Fife with a submachine gun," said Al Clark, owner of Blue Lake Video.
The town that Dave Gundersen was hired to protect is a sleepy place five miles up Trinity Scenic Byway from the coast. The old lumber mill sits rusting. Today the biggest businesses are Mad River Brewing Co. and a nearby Indian casino. With plentiful sun and warmer temperatures than at the coast, Blue Lake residents include retirees, artist types and commuters to Humboldt State University in nearby Arcata.
Gundersen arrived in 1999 after a short run in nearby Trinidad and a controversial stint in the high desert city of Adelanto, where he was accused of theft (police union leaders attributed it to small-town politics).
In Blue Lake, he made an immediate impression.
No one thought the town had much crime until he arrived. But the chief bombarded the City Council with statistics showing an increase in vehicle break-ins, burglaries and other property crimes. City leaders now figure he was inflating the numbers to justify a ballooning budget, Councilwoman Karen Barnes said.
Detractors say they never liked his style.
"He wasn't the warm and fuzzy kind of small-town cop most wanted," Councilwoman Marlene Smith said.
"He's a classic passive-aggressive kind of guy -- the type to smile and then stab you in the back," said Michael Fields, artistic director of Dell'Arte International, a critically lauded local theater company and performing arts school.
Gundersen drew Fields' ire by calling the company's annual summer festival an unwelcome police headache. The police force also took to stopping the school's foreign-born students on the street, a practice Fields saw as racial profiling.
Dave Beebe, 59, got crosswise with the chief a couple of years ago over an improperly suspended driver's license. The county grand jury looked at Gundersen and his department's tactics, but nothing substantive came of it.

).Just 1.5 cents
Comment