Kevin Murphy Named Int. Sheriff in Manatee County

HA! Just kidding but that would be some funny sh*t! Kevin if you are reading this (Since I think your the as*hole who wrote the rude stuff about Charlie resigning and being sneaky) I hope you enjoy seing your name on the subject line cuase thats the only time your name and Sheriff will ever be in the same sentence!! See ya round crew!

Six years have passed, so how’re the boyz in the ‘hood? We hear that they’ve got verrry interesting neighbors.

Sarasota Herald-Tribune, 6/5/2001
The Manatee County sheriff's deputy whose alleged beating of a suspect set off the FBI investigation into the department's drug task force became the last of a rogue group Monday to be sentenced for civil rights violations. Christopher Wilson , who planted drugs on suspects and stole cash from drug dealers, received one of the lightest sentences of the six men implicated in the Delta squad scandal -- 18 months.

Sarasota Herald-Tribune, 1/27/2000
Christopher L. Moore, faces federal mail fraud, arson and perjury charges for an incident unrelated to the actions of the Delta Division. Moore, 30, is in a federal psychiatric ward as a danger to the community and himself.

Oh by the way, where does Wilson work nowadays? :lol:

This thread must’ve been started by WhiteSmiley [“Sir, It has been an honor and a priviledge. thank you for the best 12 years of my career.”] Why oh why don’t they teach spelling with voc rehab in the joint?! Anyhoo, glad to hear you’re out now.

[mso2]

He delivered pizzas for Pizza Hut on 1st up till last week. He was arrested again on drug charges.

Last I heard Intake and Release. He was another of Supers mistakes.

Something positive for a change. If you don’t know it Col. Steube actually has a big heart of gold. He reminded newspapers of what comes with the job. It could happen, be thankful Steube is there for you.

TRUE GRIT, Sarasota Herald-Tribune, by Tim O’Hara, 6/24/2001
“Standing on an old gravel driveway in the dark of night, sheriff's deputy Bob Tucker tightly gripped the arteries in his legs to keep himself from bleeding to death. His feelings went from confusion to fear. The fear, as well as the pain, consumed him. Fear of dying, fear of losing his legs, fear of never being able to walk again.
Minutes earlier, he and his police dog, Tessa, were standing behind his truck. The two were about to go into an east Manatee County home where a burglary was possibly in progress.
Without warning, something slammed into him and smashed the pair into the back of his truck. Tessa, a 4-year-old Malinois who had been his canine partner for two years, was thrown out of the way.

"I thought I was struck by lightning. It was foggy and drizzling that night," he said.

He quickly realized he had been struck not by lightning, but by a patrol car, which had its lights off. He was pinned between the vehicles.

"This isn't, ouch, I will be back in a few days. I'm thinking I'm dying," said Tucker. "My legs were bent in all directions. I had a bone sticking through my pants and I could feel the warm sensation of blood all over me. I saw, like, marrow oozing out. My legs are busted up good, some of the breaks clean, some not so clean. "I'm thinking I have to get it together." Tucker sustained multiple compound fractures in his legs. Tessa lay beside him, suffering from a bruised lung, broken tooth and broken ribs.

Tucker, who was 33 at the time, lay helpless in the drizzle, waiting more than an hour to be flown to Bayfront Medical Center in St. Petersburg. Occasionally he would let out a scream, just as a release.

"It didn't look good that first night," said sheriff's Maj. Brad Steube, who was at the accident scene that night. "But if anyone was going to make it through this, it would be him."

That night, July 1, 1999, would be the beginning of long battle for Tucker, marked by both physical and mental ups and downs. On his way to the hospital, he passed out. When he regained consciousness three days later, his first words were: "Is my dog alive?" Assured that she was, Tucker immediately began begging doctors not to amputate his legs. "I'm looking down at my legs and it's like some kind of road kill," said Tucker, a 13-year veteran cop. "I thought my left leg was gone for sure."

Heavily medicated for pain, he lost consciousness again for a day. After he awoke, his friends snuck Tessa into the hospital. Tessa could smell Tucker as soon as she got off the elevator. Still nursing her own injuries, the dog ran down the hall and into his room. She jumped onto his lap and stayed there as his protector, growling at those who came too close.

The joy he got from the dog's visit was short-lived. He had an infection in his left leg. The doctor told him if the infection was gone in a couple of days, he would be able to keep his leg. "You should have took it when you had the chance, because you're not taking them now," he told the doctor. "There's not enough hospital employees to hold me down."

For seven days, he lived with the possibility of losing a leg. No more SWAT team, sheriff's dive team or even being a deputy at all. He would have to learn not only to walk, but to live and work, with only one leg. His days of chasing after Tessa would be over.

It was a fate that was not meant to be. He kept his leg. But in the next two weeks he had four surgeries. Steel rods and pins were put in his legs. Muscle and tissue taken from different parts of his body were grafted onto his legs. It would be nine months before he could walk again. He went from a wheelchair to walker to crutches to a cane.

Sitting idly by is not easy for a guy like Tucker. Known by his fellow deputies as a man full of energy, Tucker is a cop who says he doesn't just run bad guys down because it's his job, but because he enjoys it.

"Even though I knew the magnitude of this, I knew he would come back from it. I never doubted it for a minute," said fellow SWAT team member Joseph Skala, who worked out with Tucker regularly during his recovery. "He is a very active guy. He would never get used to just sitting around ... He never once said he couldn't do this."

Even after he was off crutches, just walking 10 feet was a major accomplishment. He was a long way from his usual activities and job duties -- climbing over fences, running down suspects and rappelling off buildings.

For the first seven months, he underwent painful physical therapy. He started with two hours a day, four days a week. "It was the hardest thing I have ever had to do," said Tucker, who served in the Navy for six years and in the Special Forces in the Army Reserves.

A bicycle was one of the biggest tools of his recovery. He progressed from riding eight miles a week to 48 miles a week. He also received a free membership to Gold's Gym, where he worked out 48 weeks straight.

He pushed himself as hard as he could, said his physical therapist, Tiffany Jackson. "He was pretty motivated about wanting to get himself back. He was also lucky that he was pretty young and that helped him get back quicker," she said.

However, there were times when he was pushing himself too hard and Jackson had to tell him to slow down, so he wouldn't re-injure himself. "It was a hard time for him, because he was young and such an active person. He was pretty positive most of time, but he, like any other person, would have his ups and downs."
Nine months after the surgeries, in March 2000, Tucker believed the worst was behind him and that he was only three to four months away from being back at work. But the tibia bones in his left leg were not healing straight. Another surgery. More months of physical therapy. The old fears set in again: No more SWAT team. No more canine unit. No more being a deputy. "I'm crushed. My career is over," he remembers thinking.

He went to the Sheriff's Office to tell them the bad news. He told Sheriff Charlie Wells to place Tessa with another deputy. Wells would have none of it. "The dog is yours," he said. "We won't split you up."

Following the surgery, he spent an additional three weeks on his back before moving to crutches.
Even on crutches he continued to perform his duties as a sheriff's deputy. He helped another deputy track down a drunken driver who crashed near his home. All told, Tucker spent 369 days recovering before going back to partial duty, working part-time and doing desk duties. "I saw every episode of 'Law and Order' there was," he said.

The moment of truth came last October, when Tucker requalified for the SWAT team. He leg-pressed 280 percent of his body weight and ran 1.5 miles in a little more than 11 minutes, beating seven of his fellow SWAT teammates. "It took a lot to get me to where I'm at today," he said. "It scares me that I would have to go through it all again. But I don't like people telling me I can't."

But the fear has stayed with him. He thinks about what would happen to his legs if he took a bad fall or came down too fast rappelling off a building. But fear has not stopped him from doing what he loves, running down bad guys and working with his dog. He now works as an undercover drug agent and a member of the SWAT team. Tessa is limited to narcotics detection -- no more chasing suspects.

Nearly two years after the accident, his SWAT teammates heckle him as he does his physical fitness testing in the sheriff's weight room. The banter starts as he attempts to leg-press 580 pounds.
"Watch out for flying metal," yells SWAT member Stan Schaeffer. "Get ready to call 911," shouts another member. Still, they all erupt into boisterous hoots and hollers when he pushes the weight up.

"The guy's amazing," SWAT teammate Rick Gerkin says. "After all he goes through, and he is kicking all of our asses."

Name: Bob Tucker

Age: 35

Occupation: Manatee County sheriff's canine handler, SWAT sniper and undercover drug agent

Background: Born in Cleveland; moved to Bradenton in 1979. Bayshore High School graduate, 1984
Military service: U.S. Navy, Army Reserves”

i'm trying to track down murphy too. hope he's around.

anything new on murphy?

Kevin Murphy has been secretly courting Bahnsen to run, so he can be No. 2. What a marriage!!

Something positive for a change. If you don’t know it Col. Steube actually has a big heart of gold. He reminded newspapers of what comes with the job. It could happen, be thankful Steube is there for you.

TRUE GRIT, Sarasota Herald-Tribune, by Tim O’Hara, 6/24/2001
“Standing on an old gravel driveway in the dark of night, sheriff's deputy Bob Tucker tightly gripped the arteries in his legs to keep himself from bleeding to death. His feelings went from confusion to fear. The fear, as well as the pain, consumed him. Fear of dying, fear of losing his legs, fear of never being able to walk again.
Minutes earlier, he and his police dog, Tessa, were standing behind his truck. The two were about to go into an east Manatee County home where a burglary was possibly in progress.
Without warning, something slammed into him and smashed the pair into the back of his truck. Tessa, a 4-year-old Malinois who had been his canine partner for two years, was thrown out of the way.

"I thought I was struck by lightning. It was foggy and drizzling that night," he said.

He quickly realized he had been struck not by lightning, but by a patrol car, which had its lights off. He was pinned between the vehicles.

"This isn't, ouch, I will be back in a few days. I'm thinking I'm dying," said Tucker. "My legs were bent in all directions. I had a bone sticking through my pants and I could feel the warm sensation of blood all over me. I saw, like, marrow oozing out. My legs are busted up good, some of the breaks clean, some not so clean. "I'm thinking I have to get it together." Tucker sustained multiple compound fractures in his legs. Tessa lay beside him, suffering from a bruised lung, broken tooth and broken ribs.

Tucker, who was 33 at the time, lay helpless in the drizzle, waiting more than an hour to be flown to Bayfront Medical Center in St. Petersburg. Occasionally he would let out a scream, just as a release.

"It didn't look good that first night," said sheriff's Maj. Brad Steube, who was at the accident scene that night. "But if anyone was going to make it through this, it would be him."

That night, July 1, 1999, would be the beginning of long battle for Tucker, marked by both physical and mental ups and downs. On his way to the hospital, he passed out. When he regained consciousness three days later, his first words were: "Is my dog alive?" Assured that she was, Tucker immediately began begging doctors not to amputate his legs. "I'm looking down at my legs and it's like some kind of road kill," said Tucker, a 13-year veteran cop. "I thought my left leg was gone for sure."

Heavily medicated for pain, he lost consciousness again for a day. After he awoke, his friends snuck Tessa into the hospital. Tessa could smell Tucker as soon as she got off the elevator. Still nursing her own injuries, the dog ran down the hall and into his room. She jumped onto his lap and stayed there as his protector, growling at those who came too close.

The joy he got from the dog's visit was short-lived. He had an infection in his left leg. The doctor told him if the infection was gone in a couple of days, he would be able to keep his leg. "You should have took it when you had the chance, because you're not taking them now," he told the doctor. "There's not enough hospital employees to hold me down."

For seven days, he lived with the possibility of losing a leg. No more SWAT team, sheriff's dive team or even being a deputy at all. He would have to learn not only to walk, but to live and work, with only one leg. His days of chasing after Tessa would be over.

It was a fate that was not meant to be. He kept his leg. But in the next two weeks he had four surgeries. Steel rods and pins were put in his legs. Muscle and tissue taken from different parts of his body were grafted onto his legs. It would be nine months before he could walk again. He went from a wheelchair to walker to crutches to a cane.

Sitting idly by is not easy for a guy like Tucker. Known by his fellow deputies as a man full of energy, Tucker is a cop who says he doesn't just run bad guys down because it's his job, but because he enjoys it.

"Even though I knew the magnitude of this, I knew he would come back from it. I never doubted it for a minute," said fellow SWAT team member Joseph Skala, who worked out with Tucker regularly during his recovery. "He is a very active guy. He would never get used to just sitting around ... He never once said he couldn't do this."

Even after he was off crutches, just walking 10 feet was a major accomplishment. He was a long way from his usual activities and job duties -- climbing over fences, running down suspects and rappelling off buildings.

For the first seven months, he underwent painful physical therapy. He started with two hours a day, four days a week. "It was the hardest thing I have ever had to do," said Tucker, who served in the Navy for six years and in the Special Forces in the Army Reserves.

A bicycle was one of the biggest tools of his recovery. He progressed from riding eight miles a week to 48 miles a week. He also received a free membership to Gold's Gym, where he worked out 48 weeks straight.

He pushed himself as hard as he could, said his physical therapist, Tiffany Jackson. "He was pretty motivated about wanting to get himself back. He was also lucky that he was pretty young and that helped him get back quicker," she said.

However, there were times when he was pushing himself too hard and Jackson had to tell him to slow down, so he wouldn't re-injure himself. "It was a hard time for him, because he was young and such an active person. He was pretty positive most of time, but he, like any other person, would have his ups and downs."
Nine months after the surgeries, in March 2000, Tucker believed the worst was behind him and that he was only three to four months away from being back at work. But the tibia bones in his left leg were not healing straight. Another surgery. More months of physical therapy. The old fears set in again: No more SWAT team. No more canine unit. No more being a deputy. "I'm crushed. My career is over," he remembers thinking.

He went to the Sheriff's Office to tell them the bad news. He told Sheriff Charlie Wells to place Tessa with another deputy. Wells would have none of it. "The dog is yours," he said. "We won't split you up."

Following the surgery, he spent an additional three weeks on his back before moving to crutches.
Even on crutches he continued to perform his duties as a sheriff's deputy. He helped another deputy track down a drunken driver who crashed near his home. All told, Tucker spent 369 days recovering before going back to partial duty, working part-time and doing desk duties. "I saw every episode of 'Law and Order' there was," he said.

The moment of truth came last October, when Tucker requalified for the SWAT team. He leg-pressed 280 percent of his body weight and ran 1.5 miles in a little more than 11 minutes, beating seven of his fellow SWAT teammates. "It took a lot to get me to where I'm at today," he said. "It scares me that I would have to go through it all again. But I don't like people telling me I can't."

But the fear has stayed with him. He thinks about what would happen to his legs if he took a bad fall or came down too fast rappelling off a building. But fear has not stopped him from doing what he loves, running down bad guys and working with his dog. He now works as an undercover drug agent and a member of the SWAT team. Tessa is limited to narcotics detection -- no more chasing suspects.

Nearly two years after the accident, his SWAT teammates heckle him as he does his physical fitness testing in the sheriff's weight room. The banter starts as he attempts to leg-press 580 pounds.
"Watch out for flying metal," yells SWAT member Stan Schaeffer. "Get ready to call 911," shouts another member. Still, they all erupt into boisterous hoots and hollers when he pushes the weight up.

"The guy's amazing," SWAT teammate Rick Gerkin says. "After all he goes through, and he is kicking all of our asses."

Name: Bob Tucker

Age: 35

Occupation: Manatee County sheriff's canine handler, SWAT sniper and undercover drug agent

Background: Born in Cleveland; moved to Bradenton in 1979. Bayshore High School graduate, 1984
Military service: U.S. Navy, Army Reserves”

Oh Please, Steube did nothing but protect the agency from a law suit. Almonty only had 5 other accidents that year. Where was Steube and all his integrity when his son Grant was screwing up in K-9 and could not handle it. They blamed it all on Tucker and swepped it under the rug. Yep Hagaman and BG Dixon the yes man broke out the big broom!! Talk about ego, these two think they know more about K-9 then Tucker hahahahahh....Capt. Comb over thinks he knows what is going on in his own unit.. What a joke!!!! They dont respect him only tolorate him.