T
The420Guy
Guest
A retired detective and his horse near the end of their trek across the
country to encourage changes to drug laws.
Howard Wooldridge leaves quite an impression on people.
It could be because of his one-eyed horse, his homemade T-shirt or his
startling message.
More than likely, it is a combination of all three.
Wooldridge, a 52-year-old retired police detective, is nearing the end of
his expedition.
He set out six months ago to ride his horse across the country and raise
awareness about drug reform. The 3,100-mile trail wends this week through
the Mid-Willamette Valley.
While Wooldridge took time out to champion his cause, his horse, Misty,
enjoyed a well-deserved day off on a farm southeast of Salem between
Jefferson and Scio.
Keith and Wendy Slonecker opened their home and barn to the weary
travelers, despite having never met Wooldridge before. A friend of the
Sloneckers in Bend arranged the accommodations.
"The kindness of strangers has been unimaginable," Wooldridge said. "The
horse-cowboy concept just opens up every door in America."
One man in St. Louis, Mo., one of many stops along the trail, went out of
his way to rent a trailer to transport horse and cowboy to a resting
place.
The Sloneckers, who have two horses, were well-equipped to assist the
pair. They even found someone to repair one of Misty's shoes.
The 9-year-old brown and white pinto seemed right at home in the
Sloneckers' barn.
She looked healthy and fit, despite the miles that she has traveled. She
lost her right eye about four years ago after being kicked by a mare.
Misty has been a warrior on the adventure, which began in Savannah, Ga.,
and will end in Newport on the Oregon Coast.
She has grown accustomed to the sounds of semi-trucks, motorcycles and
police sirens and comfortable with walking highway shoulders alongside
speeding traffic. Goats, however, are another matter.
Misty was spooked by a couple of goats in Georgia, with Wooldridge in
saddle, and they had a close call with a truck.
The two have kept a steady pace the past six months.
Their usual schedule has been to travel five days, then take a day off.
They average 23 miles per day, with Wooldridge riding two miles and then
leading her one mile, preserving Misty's stamina.
That explains why Wooldridge wears Nike hiking boots. He is on his second
pair, and the soles are worn thin.
"I walk eight, nine miles a day," he said. "I wouldn't want to do that in
my cowboy boots, no ma'am."
Wooldridge travels light, with only 16 pounds of pack. He carries the
essentials: tent, sleeping bag, cell phone and 9-millimeter handgun. He
and Misty rely on food and shelter from the strangers they befriend.
The gun is for their protection from "dogs, cougars and people -- in that
order." They have been attacked by dogs three times.
Wooldridge is tall, rangy and mustachioed. He looks like a cowboy, wearing
a hat, a red bandanna and Wranglers. But his T-shirt clashes with the
western lawman look.
The shirt, in large block letters, reads: "Cops Say Legalize Pot. Ask Me
Why."
His message turns heads more than anything.
"Prohibition or current drug policy condemns our children to grow up in a
world infested with blood-sucking drug dealers and free samples," he said.
Wooldridge is a founding member of LEAP, or Law Enforcement Against
Prohibition, a group of current and retired police officers who support
legalizing drugs.
He was a detective for 15 years in a small town in Michigan before taking
early retirement. He despised the fact that he spent more time looking for
marijuana under the front seat of a car than looking for drunk drivers.
"Law enforcement is a mosquito on the rear end of an elephant," Wooldridge
said. "We make zero difference whether you or your community are going to
have drugs or not."
He goes so far as to say that marijuana should be right there on store
shelves with Jack Daniels, Budweiser and cigarettes.
Not everyone agrees with the the lone horseman's message, including many
of his hosts.
Craig Flierl, a law enforcement officer, invited Wooldridge to stay with
his family in Sweet Home earlier this week.
"They had quite the conversation," said Edene Flierl, Craig's wife.
Her husband had a lot of questions for Wooldridge, some that couldn't be
answered.
"He is passionate about his crusade, I'll tell you that," Craig Flierl
said.
"In theory, I can't say it sounds like a bad thing. I just don't see it in
reality."
Legalizing drugs, Wooldridge says, would lower drug prices and thus reduce
crime.
Flierl doesn't see the correlation.
"The community that uses narcotics will still break into homes and pawn
things off to get money to buy drugs," Flierl said.
In spite of a controversial crusade, being a former police detective gives
Wooldridge instant credibility.
He points out that Oregon is more progressive than other states when it
comes to drug reform. That state's Medical Marijuana Act was passed by
voters in 1998, allowing the drug to be used for patients suffering from
specific medical conditions.
"It's a smaller leap for Oregon than it would be for Texas," he said,
adding that a person in Texas can go to jail for a simple possession
charge, even if it is a first offense.
"In Oregon, it's no different than running a stop sign."
The subject of legalizing drugs knocked Wendy Slonecker, who has two
teen-age children at home, right out of her comfort zone this week.
Although she didn't agree with everything Wooldridge said, she had to
admit that some of his arguments made sense.
She has a feeling that the man she just met is going to make a difference
and wouldn't be surprised to see him someday lobbying in Washington, D.C.,
upon the saddle of Misty.
"We aren't winning the war against drugs," Slonecker said. "Something has
to happen."
Wooldridge said he fully expects to see drug reform in his lifetime.
For now, he will continue his campaign.
So far, his audience has been limited to those who have been curious
enough to inquire about the T-shirt and those who have generously provided
food and shelter. He has generated publicity along the way, always taking
time on his days off to meet with newspaper, radio and television
reporters.
At sunrise this morning, he will saddle up Misty and head for the
shoulders of Highway 20. They will travel through Albany, Corvallis and
Philomath on their way to Newport. One of Wooldridge's brothers will meet
them there with a truck and trailer to take them back home to Fort Worth,
Texas.
With only 80 more miles to deliver his message, and the final pages of his
journal to complete, the end is bittersweet.
"This is once-in-a-lifetime stuff," he said. "As much as I really want to
finish, I'm going to miss meeting all the Wendys and Keiths out there."
Copyright Statesman Journal.
Author: Capi Lynn, Statesman Journal
Source: Statesman Journal
Contact: letters@statesmanjournal.com
Website: https://www.https//www.statesmanjournal.com//
Pubdate: Saturday, September 27, 2003
country to encourage changes to drug laws.
Howard Wooldridge leaves quite an impression on people.
It could be because of his one-eyed horse, his homemade T-shirt or his
startling message.
More than likely, it is a combination of all three.
Wooldridge, a 52-year-old retired police detective, is nearing the end of
his expedition.
He set out six months ago to ride his horse across the country and raise
awareness about drug reform. The 3,100-mile trail wends this week through
the Mid-Willamette Valley.
While Wooldridge took time out to champion his cause, his horse, Misty,
enjoyed a well-deserved day off on a farm southeast of Salem between
Jefferson and Scio.
Keith and Wendy Slonecker opened their home and barn to the weary
travelers, despite having never met Wooldridge before. A friend of the
Sloneckers in Bend arranged the accommodations.
"The kindness of strangers has been unimaginable," Wooldridge said. "The
horse-cowboy concept just opens up every door in America."
One man in St. Louis, Mo., one of many stops along the trail, went out of
his way to rent a trailer to transport horse and cowboy to a resting
place.
The Sloneckers, who have two horses, were well-equipped to assist the
pair. They even found someone to repair one of Misty's shoes.
The 9-year-old brown and white pinto seemed right at home in the
Sloneckers' barn.
She looked healthy and fit, despite the miles that she has traveled. She
lost her right eye about four years ago after being kicked by a mare.
Misty has been a warrior on the adventure, which began in Savannah, Ga.,
and will end in Newport on the Oregon Coast.
She has grown accustomed to the sounds of semi-trucks, motorcycles and
police sirens and comfortable with walking highway shoulders alongside
speeding traffic. Goats, however, are another matter.
Misty was spooked by a couple of goats in Georgia, with Wooldridge in
saddle, and they had a close call with a truck.
The two have kept a steady pace the past six months.
Their usual schedule has been to travel five days, then take a day off.
They average 23 miles per day, with Wooldridge riding two miles and then
leading her one mile, preserving Misty's stamina.
That explains why Wooldridge wears Nike hiking boots. He is on his second
pair, and the soles are worn thin.
"I walk eight, nine miles a day," he said. "I wouldn't want to do that in
my cowboy boots, no ma'am."
Wooldridge travels light, with only 16 pounds of pack. He carries the
essentials: tent, sleeping bag, cell phone and 9-millimeter handgun. He
and Misty rely on food and shelter from the strangers they befriend.
The gun is for their protection from "dogs, cougars and people -- in that
order." They have been attacked by dogs three times.
Wooldridge is tall, rangy and mustachioed. He looks like a cowboy, wearing
a hat, a red bandanna and Wranglers. But his T-shirt clashes with the
western lawman look.
The shirt, in large block letters, reads: "Cops Say Legalize Pot. Ask Me
Why."
His message turns heads more than anything.
"Prohibition or current drug policy condemns our children to grow up in a
world infested with blood-sucking drug dealers and free samples," he said.
Wooldridge is a founding member of LEAP, or Law Enforcement Against
Prohibition, a group of current and retired police officers who support
legalizing drugs.
He was a detective for 15 years in a small town in Michigan before taking
early retirement. He despised the fact that he spent more time looking for
marijuana under the front seat of a car than looking for drunk drivers.
"Law enforcement is a mosquito on the rear end of an elephant," Wooldridge
said. "We make zero difference whether you or your community are going to
have drugs or not."
He goes so far as to say that marijuana should be right there on store
shelves with Jack Daniels, Budweiser and cigarettes.
Not everyone agrees with the the lone horseman's message, including many
of his hosts.
Craig Flierl, a law enforcement officer, invited Wooldridge to stay with
his family in Sweet Home earlier this week.
"They had quite the conversation," said Edene Flierl, Craig's wife.
Her husband had a lot of questions for Wooldridge, some that couldn't be
answered.
"He is passionate about his crusade, I'll tell you that," Craig Flierl
said.
"In theory, I can't say it sounds like a bad thing. I just don't see it in
reality."
Legalizing drugs, Wooldridge says, would lower drug prices and thus reduce
crime.
Flierl doesn't see the correlation.
"The community that uses narcotics will still break into homes and pawn
things off to get money to buy drugs," Flierl said.
In spite of a controversial crusade, being a former police detective gives
Wooldridge instant credibility.
He points out that Oregon is more progressive than other states when it
comes to drug reform. That state's Medical Marijuana Act was passed by
voters in 1998, allowing the drug to be used for patients suffering from
specific medical conditions.
"It's a smaller leap for Oregon than it would be for Texas," he said,
adding that a person in Texas can go to jail for a simple possession
charge, even if it is a first offense.
"In Oregon, it's no different than running a stop sign."
The subject of legalizing drugs knocked Wendy Slonecker, who has two
teen-age children at home, right out of her comfort zone this week.
Although she didn't agree with everything Wooldridge said, she had to
admit that some of his arguments made sense.
She has a feeling that the man she just met is going to make a difference
and wouldn't be surprised to see him someday lobbying in Washington, D.C.,
upon the saddle of Misty.
"We aren't winning the war against drugs," Slonecker said. "Something has
to happen."
Wooldridge said he fully expects to see drug reform in his lifetime.
For now, he will continue his campaign.
So far, his audience has been limited to those who have been curious
enough to inquire about the T-shirt and those who have generously provided
food and shelter. He has generated publicity along the way, always taking
time on his days off to meet with newspaper, radio and television
reporters.
At sunrise this morning, he will saddle up Misty and head for the
shoulders of Highway 20. They will travel through Albany, Corvallis and
Philomath on their way to Newport. One of Wooldridge's brothers will meet
them there with a truck and trailer to take them back home to Fort Worth,
Texas.
With only 80 more miles to deliver his message, and the final pages of his
journal to complete, the end is bittersweet.
"This is once-in-a-lifetime stuff," he said. "As much as I really want to
finish, I'm going to miss meeting all the Wendys and Keiths out there."
Copyright Statesman Journal.
Author: Capi Lynn, Statesman Journal
Source: Statesman Journal
Contact: letters@statesmanjournal.com
Website: https://www.https//www.statesmanjournal.com//
Pubdate: Saturday, September 27, 2003