“We get calls from other people that we don’t get calls from. So yes, I think that’s going to replace a lot,” Chody said, then a senior police officer in Austin, to reporters about how he would replace the new wealth. family life.
Providence paved the way for the boy who grew up in a mobile home park in Florida with a single mother to realize the dream of his years of formation of fitting in a hero of law enforcement. In recent years, he has done so with a team of films in position and a loving audience who loves law enforcement as much as Chody had arrived when, at 15, a policeman pulled him out of the terrible fists of his mother’s boyfriend.
Since winning the lottery nearly two decades ago, Chody has earned a reputation as a conservative right-hand man with a penchating for social media and a thirst for fame. He temporarily left his task of patrolling weekend revelers on Austin’s noisy Sixth Street and began cultivating a political career that would take him to the high-level police position in one of Texas’ most reputable counties.
As the country’s police departments have begun to re-examine policies that contribute to fatal violence that disproportionately affects communities of color, Williamson County Sheriff Robert Chody is in stark contrast.
Chody, who became the county’s executive leader in 2017, has doubled his agency’s long history of police surveillance, television cameras and social media strength to showcase his officers’ paintings. His taste for law enforcement comes at a time when the country is facing difficult questions about the kind of call from police communities across the United States.
Under his leadership, Williamson County hired parliamentarians with problematic pasts and in particular increased the use of force and prosecutions at high speed, any of whom disproportionately worried black civilians. His department’s leaders reportedly distributed meat gift cards to parliamentarians “hard enough” to use force. And at least five incidents of force use are being investigated through texas Rangers and local prosecutors.
Photographs of the police force’s camera
Much of Chody’s tenure was carried out in front of the watchful targets of the “Live PD” truth screen camera teams and the unwavering viewers of the screen. After courting the much-loved show in his suburban Austin county, Chody’s star rose among his fans. They praised the paintings of his assistants and praised a sheriff who was willing to share jokes on social media with his audience.
But when a violent incident with his aides turned deadly, killing 40-year-old black father Javier Ambler II, The Chody’s star began to fade. 2019 death spots captured in the “Live PD” video.
Now, the cameras that boosted Chody’s fame may just be his loss.
Last month, a grand jury accused Chody of a false evidence tamper rate for his alleged role in destroying images of the incident. Chody denies breaking the law and has hired two of Austin’s top lawyers. of a political plot to expel him from office.
His supporters claim that Chody did what he was chosen to do: maintain a culture of law and order while bringing a company that was once obsolete in fashionable times, the latest forensic science to help solve bloodless cases, and deploy cell phone programs to alert residents. Crime. It’s the symbol of Williamson County’s zero tolerance for crime, they say.
Critics of Chody, in addition to some of his Republican colleagues in the county, say he is the public service to quench his thirst for fame.
They say their madness in the spotlight has created a poisonous and combustible combination that has fostered violent police tactics, internal unrest and a lot of lawsuits against the branch and county by greedy former workers and abused residents.
As Chody faces re-election next month, he only fights a crime charge, but with damaged relations with local Republican leaders and former allies, many of whom have demanded his resignation. The district attorney investigates further allegations of evidence manipulation in the Ambler case.
“I’m very smart cops, but there’s no law enforcement post for those who discredit and dishonor the badge,” said County Commissioner Cynthia Long, Republican.
Chody refused to be interviewed for this story.
On the day two MPs sued Ambler for a minor traffic violation and carried out fatal Taser moves while the guy begged for his life, Chody posted a five-minute video with a selfie on social media and suppressed his tears inside his police van.
He didn’t mention Ambler, he was in the tragic scene all night; instead, he enthusiastically updated the audience in his quest to track down the Florida congressman who replaced his life about 35 years ago.
With the help of “Live PD” fans, Chody said, she had discovered the officer’s call that she had kept her mother from an abusive boyfriend in the family caravan outside Orlando in 1985. That moment, he said, had encouraged him, to an officer.
“I need you to know the effect it had on me,” Chody says, in a broken voice. “And I need you to know because it’s a big challenge for me. “
Today is the NationalTwinDay, the sheriff and his double in the 1970s.
Chody’s father committed suicide at the age of 8, leaving his mother to raise four children in the suburbs of Orlando.
Seven years later, Congressman Paul Peterson entered his life.
That day, Chody said her mother’s boyfriend beat her and her double brother, so she ran down the street for help.
“I’ve told the story a hundred times, and some of my findings are completely accurate, but I’ll tell you what’s right, and that’s the sense of security I had,” he said.
Retired from Lake County, Florida, Congressman Peterson said he remembers a little bit of the circle of relatives he helped that day.
Peterson, 65, now lives in Tennessee, said a former colleague told him last spring that a teenager he was helping now is a well-known Texas sheriff.
“You don’t realize how much you replace someone’s life when you just do your job,” Peterson said recently.
When Peterson and Chody met at a dining spot in Knoxville Cheddar on August 2, 2019, the sheriff shared the moment with his 35,000 Facebook fans in a video.
With a long history in sight law enforcement, Chody served 4 years in the US Army after graduating from high school. He then moved to North Texas to work as a Correctional Officer for the Texas Department of Criminal Justice. He joined the Austin Police Department. in 1996.
Meanwhile, he and Beverly Chody have started a circle of relatives who would eventually come with four children.
The circle of relatives was replaced by his fortune in March 2001.
Three hours before the Texas Lottery draw, Beverly Chody bought $5 in Quick Pick tickets at a Shopper’s Mart. That night, the 30-year-old couple sat in their bed in disbelief when they learned they had the corresponding numbers to win the $85. jackpot of millions, of which $34 million withheld for tax.
The Chodys lived beneath them on a $1. 4 million, 5,000-square-foot golf course at Avery Ranch in southern Williamson County.
In an interview with KVUE-TV in February 2018, Chody minimized his wealth and insisted that the most vital thing in his life is family. On social media, he shared images of his sons’ activities, calling himself a “dancing father” who attended his daughter’s event. recitals and proudly declaring that his son had finished marine education camp.
“If I were still living in a caravan today, with my wife and children, I would be satisfied with that,” he said in the KVUE interview.
Chody’s police career took a violent turn at first. As a young officer in the Austin Police Department, Chody was on the other side of a life-changing encounter that would mark his fledgling career and mark a 15-year black high school.
In August 1998, he sent a call about a riot between a boy and a woguy. When he arrived at the site, Chody said he thought Marcus DeWayne Frank was the suspect.
But Frank hadn’t worried about the fuss. He walked quietly down the street and disobeyed Chody’s order to “come here. “Chody crushed the young warrior’s head against the hood of his patrol car and put him in a “full nelson,” a fighting position that puts strain on his neck. caused seizures to Frank, his circle of relatives pleaded in a lawsuit. Chody continued to hold the young man as he grabbed him, as he thought Frank might be “simulating. “
The case was eventually settled for $30,000, paid through Austin taxpayers.
Frank, now 37, is an insurance visitor services representative and lives in Phoenix. He struggled with depression in high school and for much of his 20 years before overcoming the trauma of the encounter, he said.
Frank had an idea of Chody for years until he learned that he had entered politics.
“I forgive him, but do I forget?” Frank asked. ” Absolutely not. Do I think he’s a smart person? No, I don’t think so. I think he’s sheriff? Forgive my French, but for God’s sake, no. “
The rest of Chody’s tenure in the Austin police force was not remarkable, and his superiors would later pay homage to his work.
“He only understands the department’s policy on the use of force, but adheres to it,” Sergeant De Chody wrote in a 1999 assessment.
When Chody won the lottery in 2001, he said he did not aim to leave the Austin Police Department, but resigned about a month after the trial agreement with Frank.
For the next six years, Chody served as a volunteer police assistant in Williamson County District 2 and also volunteered as a police officer in New Orleans Hurricane Katrina in 2005.
Amid political conflicts in Williamson County in 2007, Chody seized his first political opportunity and ran as a police officer in District 1 opposed to a incumbent who was concerned in a legal war with commissioners on how to deploy the officers.
The political status quo leaned towards Chody, who won easily.
Chody’s former deputy leader, Robert Woodring, he and others believed Chody saw the position of sheriff as a springboard to a broader political role.
“It makes a very clever first impression, however, over time, those diapers start to take off and you start to see who that user is,” said Woodring, who now works for the Blanco County Sheriff’s Office. You can make him feel smart about himself, you’ll make him smart. If you can still kiss her, you’ll make him smart, and if you can caress her ego, you’ll do great.
Chody said that in his first year as a sheriff, he learned that he was looking to be a sheriff and began running in that direction.
In a national context of protests and calls for systemic replacement to reduce police brutality and improve the remedy of minority communities, Chody’s technique takes into account Williamson County’s infamous past.
One of his top debatable officers is Sheriff Jim Boutwell, an aviator and backup congressman who led the University of Texas tower from a small plane in 1966 while sniper Charles Whitman shot other people on the ground.
An exchange of gunfire with Boutwell distracted Whitman enough for police to succeed in the most sensible of the tower and subdue the gunman.
Thirteen years later, Williamson County Sheriff Boutwell, who smoked black coffee and smoked cigarettes without a filter, a position he held for 15 years until 1993, with his ever-present white Stetson and the handcuffs clamp, starred in the county’s competitive crime. tone of struggle.
In 1983, Boutwell led a working group to unload a murder confession of alleged serial killer Henry Lee Lucas. Boutwell said Lucas confessed to some 360 homicides while the national media demanded to hide the sordid stories, many of which eventually proved as false as they were grotesque. Investigative reports later revealed that he may not have committed many of the crimes for which the credit was credited. Lucas’ death penalty was commuted to life in prison, where he died in 2001.
Boutwell also led the failed investigation that led to Michael Morton’s wrongful conviction for his wife’s 1986 murder. The guy who beat Christine Morton to death continued to murder at least one other woguy, while Michael Morton spent 25 years unjustly imprisoned.
However, in years, the county’s population grew by 450% between 1980 and 2010, booming with Austin in adjacent Travis County to the south. New and more progressive citizens have diluted Williamson County’s deeply conservative electoral bloc, which has kept leaders in the war on crime in power.
The county elected its first Democrat in nearly a quarter of a century in 2016; two years later, the electorate elected two Democratic justices of the peace.
“Williamson County is the magnet for homes that are still affordable for each and every Democrat who is evicted from Travis County,” said county commissioner Terry Cook, a Democrat. “Confluence is what change does. “
Chody spent nearly $1 million on his own cash, an amount that experts say is unusually superior to a local sheriff’s career, and won his career for the sheriff in 2016 overwhelmingly. crimes and misdemeanors.
“There is no crime too small. The law will have to be respected,” said Chody, dressed in a Stetson similar to the one Boutwell used decades ago in a crusade ad.
His opponent, Randy Elliston, former head of the Texas Department of Public Safety, won 15% of the vote and spent $8,565 on his campaign.
After winning the sheriff’s badge, Chody went to the paintings to woo a television screen to showcase his agency.
He first sought to capitalize on the public interest in cable programming that exposed unsolved mysteries. He created a new high-profile bloodless case team, adding the murder of “orange socks” for which Henry Lee Lucas had claimed credit. They also investigated the disappearance in 2002 of Rachel Cooke, a student who disappeared after running.
“He cares about this community,” said Janet Cooke, Rachel’s mother. “He will let us know that he provides a sacred and that it works. “
When the agreements materialized with production corporations that were negotiating unresolved issues, Chody turned to “Live PD”.
In a January 2018 public confrontation with county commissioners, he said the program would provide Williamson County with a national style of law enforcement in favor.
“To what extent can we be more transparent than being able to be on live television?” asked Chody.
On Wilco LivePD surveillance night with Salinas police officer Mike Muskett and his wife Rachel. With SheriffArray. .
After lukewarm approval from the commissioners, Chody spent the first few months of “Live PD” on a honeymoon with the screen and community.
He organized parties to see in the county, served popcorn, and introduced citizens to the stars of the sheriff’s department. Chody’s social media has soared, with enthusiasts tweeting and commenting on her Facebook posts across the country.
Chody has closely choreographed his messages and those of parliamentarians.
“Make your account, but I don’t need your remaining photos and videos,” Chody wrote in a text of the organization to MPs in January 2019. “Share love. I’m running out of pictures. “
As Chody’s television fame grew, the cameras were brewing disorder.
Chody asked her to respond to a complaint that one of her most sensible commanders challenged her assistants to check for sex with a “Live PD” producer. Months later, the commander’s posts on social media were made public in which he gave the impression of joking about problems such as rape.
As film crews made their way to the streets of Williamson County, MPs were chasing blacks more than double the population rate.
In addition to Ambler’s death, other incidents of high-profile force have caused controversy. Another violent arrest was filmed that resulted in serious injury. Williamson County District Attorney Shawn Dick, a Republican, continually insisted that the sheriff download unso cooked photographs of “Live PD,” which, according to prosecutors, may be in trials by criminals.
As Dick’s considerations became public, commissioners increasingly questioned the effect of the program on county police. Last summer, they canceled the county’s “Live PD” contract.
Angry Chody.
He wrote his contract with “Live PD” to bring the show back. The commissioners sued Chody to arrest him.
“Sheriff Chody can carry out the sheriff’s essential tasks without the live TV broadcast,” the lawsuit says. “But it is not necessary. Instead, Sheriff Chody is for an exhibition on social media and television as a moth for a soft light bulb, and has left the description of his task to return to television. “
Under Chody’s administration, the county won what, according to the commissioners, is a record number of lawsuits and court cases of former parliamentarians, adding allegations of retaliation against whistleblowers and cases of use of force.
“We are going through a difficult time with our insurance company due to the duty created in the (sheriff’s office),” County Commissioner Russ Boles, a Republican, said in a meeting Sept. 15. “This creates a significant monetary burden for the county. “
Thirteen days later, another major challenge arose for Chody’s administration. He was accused of altering the evidence, claiming that he helped destroy the “Live PD” images of Ambler’s death.
In defense of what he called a political conspiracy to remove him from office, Chody addressed the cameras that are ubiquitous in his police career.
At a mass press conference, Chody said he was innocent and, compared to Morton, was wrongfully convicted, and described himself as the county’s most recent victim of unfair prosecution.
“Unfortunately, Shawn Dick continues the unhappy culture in Williamson County to accuse others of crimes they didn’t commit,” Chody said. “I find it surprising and disgusting that our district attorney is your workplace for your political agenda. “
The Williamson County electorate will decide next month whether Chody will remain his most productive cop. Texas law allows defendants to remain in public office. And unlike Texas police chiefs, the sheriff can’t be fired. They only respond to their constituents.
In his latest financial report on the maximum crusade, Chody spent $300,353 on his crusade, while raising $5,515. His Democratic opponent, Mike Gleason, raised $19,980 and spent $16,593.
Kim Jones, Ambler’s sister, said Chody’s wealth could fill the coffers of his crusade and pay for his legal defense, but she would not save him from an electorate willing to replace county police.
“You can have all the money in the world, but if you’re not a smart person, it doesn’t matter,” he says. “It doesn’t replace who you are. “