March 7
Narcotics agents conduct area drug raid
Home of Outlaws Motorcycle Club among ‘half a dozen’ properties searched Friday.
By Rory Sweeney rsweeney@timesleader.com
Staff Writer
Law enforcement officials conducted numerous raids Friday morning, including a local chapter of the Outlaws Motorcycle Club.
The state attorney general’s Bureau of Narcotics Investigation and Drug Control served sealed search warrants on about "half a dozen" properties, according to Frank Noonan, the Office of the Attorney General’s regional director.
The buildings in Wilkes-Barre, Ashley and other areas of southern Luzerne County were raided around 8 a.m., he said. Though he refused to detail the purpose of the operation or if it extended beyond the county, he said they were all in connection to the same ongoing investigation.
“We definitely seized a lot of things,” he said, adding that they were there for three or four hours. Arrests are likely in the future, he said.
(Comment: MF'er sounds like he was on a shopping trip don't he)The home raided in Ashley at 128 Main St. was in use by a local chapter of the Outlaws Motorcycle Club.
According to the U.S. Department of Justice, the 1,700-member international gang is involved in the production, transportation and distribution of methamphetamine, the transportation and distribution of cocaine, marijuana and, to a lesser extent, ecstasy. They engage in various criminal activities, including arson, assault, explosives, extortion, fraud, homicide, intimidation, kidnapping, money laundering, prostitution, robbery, theft and weapons violations, the Justice Department notes.
They are the controlling motorcycle gang of the Great Lakes region and compete with the Hells Angels for both members and territory, according to the department.
Rory Sweeney, a Times Leader staff writer, may be reached at 970-7418.
March 6th, 2009
THE rules of an NT bikies' club have been revealed in documents tendered to the Supreme Court.The Blonks' Motorcycle club had a kitty that always had to have $1000 in it for posting bail and did not allow members to wear colours when in a car. The club also banned members from wearing colours when having sex with Aboriginal women. A Supreme Court judge also said the club could not legally form a management committee because every one of its members had a criminal record.The Blonks Motorcycle Club was eventually put out of business by the arrival in the NT of the Hell's Angels. All but two of the old Blonks are now members of the Hell's Angels. Under the NT Incorporations Act, clubs must have a management committee - but people with criminal records can't sit on it.One of the remaining members of the Blonks, Paul Anthony Johnson, failed in a bid to get the court to overturn a decision by the Consumer Affairs commissioner that the club was defunct.
Consumer Affairs seized the bikies' clubhouse at Darwin River, where the Darwin River Rocks rock concert used to be held.
Mr Johnson argued that the club was still active.
But judge Stephen Southwood said there was not enough evidence to prove this - even the Blonks' bank accounts had been taken over by the Hell's Angels.
The Blonks were formed in 1986. The club's rules, which were tendered in court, included stipulations that:
"DUE to past circumstances no colours to be worn when shafting (Aborigines) and no (Aborigines) to be brought to the house ever."
NO MEMBER should wear his "colours" - a leather jacket or waistcoat with the club's logo - while in a car;
IN THE "interests of peace", members should "keep your hands off another woman if she is a member's woman";
IF A member is drunk, other members must take his motorbike keys off him;
NEW members are the responsibility of the member who nominated him - "any f...-ups are on his shoulders";
MEMBERS caught fighting each other will be fined $50 - no "stabbing and shooting"; and
MEMBERS who have their bikes off the road for three months without a good reason will be demoted to club nominee.
The court ruling means the club's assets will remain the property of the NT Government.
6/03/2009 1:01:00 PM
BLACKTOWN police have advised local residents and visitors against wearing certain colours or symbols to licensed premises.Clubs and pubs that are part of the Blacktown Liquor Accord have agreed to the ban and will display this poster (pictured). Blacktown police's licensing officer, Sergeant Christopher Stanley, said it was mainly aimed at youth gangs and outlawed motorcycle clubs.
He said it would not apply to people wearing their favourite football team's livery or indicating other innocuous associations.
He said it would not apply to people wearing their favourite football team's livery or indicating other innocuous associations.
By FRANK FERNANDEZ
Staff Writer
DAYTONA BEACH -- Broda's got knives, both folders and automatics. Broda's got "Hide-a-Peace" T-shirts to pack concealed handguns. Broda's got brass paperweights. Yeah, they are brass paperweights. Sure, they look just like brass knuckles but that's your problem, not Broda's.
And Broda's got leather, lots of leather. Leather chaps, leather plaques, leather purses, custom, hand-tooled fine looking (expletive deleted). And Broda -- whose name is Robert Gunther and who is a member of the Outlaws Motorcycle gang -- has a shop right on Main Street in Daytona Beach.
"I ride with the Outlaws Motorcycle Club, which is totally separate from my shop," Gunther, 48, said in an interview during Bike Week. "My shop is independently owned by me and has nothing to do with the motorcycle club."
Gunther said he had $900 in his pocket when he opened Broda's Custom and Hand Tooled Leather in May and business has been good and getting better all the time. Gunther doesn't look like a typical shopkeeper. His beefy arms are a suitable canvas for an inked mosaic of skulls, a reaper, demons, the words "mom and dad" and the Outlaw colors, a symbol of a skull over a pair of crossed pistons. He wears a black T-shirt with white designs of "paperweights" around the collar.
And his shop doesn't look typical either. Iron crosses with a pair of SS-style lightning bolts adorn the windows and the sign. In the back, some black-and-white photos of Outlaws from the 1960s hang on the wall. One shows some bikers standing around a van in a field. On the van is a flag emblazoned with a swastika.
Gunther said it has nothing to do with Nazis or the Holocaust. "Absolutely zero. We got guys in the club that are Mexican, that are Jews, whatever," he said.
Gunther said the symbols are a kind of in-your-face repudiation of the everyday.
"A lot of people make a big deal about that (swastika)," Gunther said. "What they forget is bikers were always a subculture, you know what I mean. And how it was a long time ago is bikers didn't want to be part of society. They were like the cowboys were back in the 1800s. You know, they disassociated themselves from everybody else. And the reason why they wear the swastikas and the SS was because they want to be different from everybody, and it repulsed the regular common person, you know what I mean. When they seen a dirty biker they don't want nuthin' to do with them."
Many of the people who started biker gangs in the '50s were World War II veterans who had brought back lots of Nazi items as trophies or mementos, said Mark Pitcavage, director of investigative research for the Anti Defamation League. Some of the bikers started to wear the iron crosses and SS bolts. Swastikas were less common, he said.
"These are people who want to have a little shock value," he said. "They want to seem like a bad-ass."
The plain iron cross is so common now that it has been "de-extremeified," but other things like the SS bolts and, of course, the swastika remain extreme symbols of hate, he said.
The Outlaws motorcycle gang is not, as a group, a white supremacists organization, although there are connections in Florida between some Outlaws and the confederate Hammerskins, a white supremacist group, Pitcavage said.
Besides the swastika and the iron cross symbols, the shop has other controversial symbols. It sells toilet paper emblazoned with the confederate flag.
The toilet paper is a novelty item and not meant as a sign of disrespect, said William "Wild Bill" Jones, 52, who is not a member of the Outlaws and also works in the shop. Jones specializes in anything to do with upholstery, working with vinyl and leather on items such as custom motorcycle seats or tailored chaps. Jones sits near the front window working with a nearly 70-year-old Singer sewing machine, hemming chaps, stitching patches to jackets and fixing zippers, fixing lots of zippers. He said he learned the business in his dad's shop in North Carolina. "It's a family trade, a dying art," Jones said.
Jones sports a big bushy beard, plenty of tattoos and is wearing a "Support Your Local Outlaws" T-shirt. Money from the sale of such "support" items goes to help Outlaws in prison. Jones said lots of people nowadays want to look like bikers for a couple of weeks.
"Then they go home and shave and go back to their jobs," Jones said. "We like to look like this year around. I mean, that's who we are; we don't change. I don't live for everybody else. I live for me."
And Broda's got leather, lots of leather. Leather chaps, leather plaques, leather purses, custom, hand-tooled fine looking (expletive deleted). And Broda -- whose name is Robert Gunther and who is a member of the Outlaws Motorcycle gang -- has a shop right on Main Street in Daytona Beach.
"I ride with the Outlaws Motorcycle Club, which is totally separate from my shop," Gunther, 48, said in an interview during Bike Week. "My shop is independently owned by me and has nothing to do with the motorcycle club."
Gunther said he had $900 in his pocket when he opened Broda's Custom and Hand Tooled Leather in May and business has been good and getting better all the time. Gunther doesn't look like a typical shopkeeper. His beefy arms are a suitable canvas for an inked mosaic of skulls, a reaper, demons, the words "mom and dad" and the Outlaw colors, a symbol of a skull over a pair of crossed pistons. He wears a black T-shirt with white designs of "paperweights" around the collar.
And his shop doesn't look typical either. Iron crosses with a pair of SS-style lightning bolts adorn the windows and the sign. In the back, some black-and-white photos of Outlaws from the 1960s hang on the wall. One shows some bikers standing around a van in a field. On the van is a flag emblazoned with a swastika.
Gunther said it has nothing to do with Nazis or the Holocaust. "Absolutely zero. We got guys in the club that are Mexican, that are Jews, whatever," he said.
Gunther said the symbols are a kind of in-your-face repudiation of the everyday.
"A lot of people make a big deal about that (swastika)," Gunther said. "What they forget is bikers were always a subculture, you know what I mean. And how it was a long time ago is bikers didn't want to be part of society. They were like the cowboys were back in the 1800s. You know, they disassociated themselves from everybody else. And the reason why they wear the swastikas and the SS was because they want to be different from everybody, and it repulsed the regular common person, you know what I mean. When they seen a dirty biker they don't want nuthin' to do with them."
Many of the people who started biker gangs in the '50s were World War II veterans who had brought back lots of Nazi items as trophies or mementos, said Mark Pitcavage, director of investigative research for the Anti Defamation League. Some of the bikers started to wear the iron crosses and SS bolts. Swastikas were less common, he said.
"These are people who want to have a little shock value," he said. "They want to seem like a bad-ass."
The plain iron cross is so common now that it has been "de-extremeified," but other things like the SS bolts and, of course, the swastika remain extreme symbols of hate, he said.
The Outlaws motorcycle gang is not, as a group, a white supremacists organization, although there are connections in Florida between some Outlaws and the confederate Hammerskins, a white supremacist group, Pitcavage said.
Besides the swastika and the iron cross symbols, the shop has other controversial symbols. It sells toilet paper emblazoned with the confederate flag.
The toilet paper is a novelty item and not meant as a sign of disrespect, said William "Wild Bill" Jones, 52, who is not a member of the Outlaws and also works in the shop. Jones specializes in anything to do with upholstery, working with vinyl and leather on items such as custom motorcycle seats or tailored chaps. Jones sits near the front window working with a nearly 70-year-old Singer sewing machine, hemming chaps, stitching patches to jackets and fixing zippers, fixing lots of zippers. He said he learned the business in his dad's shop in North Carolina. "It's a family trade, a dying art," Jones said.
Jones sports a big bushy beard, plenty of tattoos and is wearing a "Support Your Local Outlaws" T-shirt. Money from the sale of such "support" items goes to help Outlaws in prison. Jones said lots of people nowadays want to look like bikers for a couple of weeks.
"Then they go home and shave and go back to their jobs," Jones said. "We like to look like this year around. I mean, that's who we are; we don't change. I don't live for everybody else. I live for me."
(Comment: Damn what a unique concept! I'll Leave to the reader to decide which. Being true to oneself or playing wanna be for a couple weeks???)
One of the people who stopped by the shop recently is Cliff Holley, a member of the Tribe of Judah motorcycle ministries.
Holley said he met Gunther two or three years ago. Gunther made him a belt and a leather scabbard, and he plans to have him make a leather Bible cover. "We hit it off from the very first time that we met," Holley said. "He had made a bunch of belts for the tribe.
"
Gunther said motorcycles run in his blood. His father rode with a group called the Rat Pack in New York in the 1950s and '60s."I'm a second generation biker. My father rode with a motorcycle club. I ride with a motorcycle club now."
And Gunther said that's what led to him doing a nearly 13 year federal prison sentence.
"What it's all about is being in a motorcycle club," Gunther said. "Basically I was roped into a RICO, and, basically, because I wouldn't be a government witness I got a lot of time."
Just a few days before the official start of Bike Week in 1995, Daytona Beach Police and federal agents raided the Outlaws clubhouse and arrested Gunther and three other Outlaws and charged them with violating the federal Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organizations Act. Authorities said then that they lopped the head off the local Outlaws chapter, according to a Daytona Beach News-Journal story. Most of the charges were related to warfare between the Outlaws and other motorcycle gangs, the story said.
Gunther would rather talk about his shop. "The whole key about this is, I think, is keeping your overhead down and being able to sell the product at a less price."And he would rather talk about his motorcycles. He has five Harleys: a '52 KRM. a '48 panhead, an '82 police special, a '94 Evo chopper and a '96 springer softail. Which is his favorite? "All of them and maybe my next one," he said.
Rival motorcycle gangs brawled at a tattoo convention held at the Sheraton Philadelphia City Center Hotel yesterday, with eight members of the groups injured.Holley said he met Gunther two or three years ago. Gunther made him a belt and a leather scabbard, and he plans to have him make a leather Bible cover. "We hit it off from the very first time that we met," Holley said. "He had made a bunch of belts for the tribe.
"
Gunther said motorcycles run in his blood. His father rode with a group called the Rat Pack in New York in the 1950s and '60s."I'm a second generation biker. My father rode with a motorcycle club. I ride with a motorcycle club now."
And Gunther said that's what led to him doing a nearly 13 year federal prison sentence.
"What it's all about is being in a motorcycle club," Gunther said. "Basically I was roped into a RICO, and, basically, because I wouldn't be a government witness I got a lot of time."
Just a few days before the official start of Bike Week in 1995, Daytona Beach Police and federal agents raided the Outlaws clubhouse and arrested Gunther and three other Outlaws and charged them with violating the federal Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organizations Act. Authorities said then that they lopped the head off the local Outlaws chapter, according to a Daytona Beach News-Journal story. Most of the charges were related to warfare between the Outlaws and other motorcycle gangs, the story said.
Gunther would rather talk about his shop. "The whole key about this is, I think, is keeping your overhead down and being able to sell the product at a less price."And he would rather talk about his motorcycles. He has five Harleys: a '52 KRM. a '48 panhead, an '82 police special, a '94 Evo chopper and a '96 springer softail. Which is his favorite? "All of them and maybe my next one," he said.
About 40 police swarmed the hotel at 17th and Race Streets after fisticuffs broke out around 3 p.m. between the Pagans and the Outlaws, according to Chief Inspector Joseph Sullivan. Police made several arrests in connection with the fight, which spilled from the hotel lobby into the street, and charges were pending. No one was seriously hurt.
"What happened is what ordinarily happens when two gangs get together - violence broke out," Sullivan said.
One of the combatants had a firearm with a legal permit, and both the gun and permit were confiscated, Sullivan said.
Eyewitness Bob Thiede, 37, of Westville, said the fight was between a man with skinhead tattooed on his back and several others wearing Pagan T-shirts.
"They hit the skinhead with a broomstick," said Thiede, who was accompanied by girlfriend "Miss Angie," who declined to give her last name. Thiede said the man "had broomstick marks all over him."
Troy Timpel, who ran the convention and owns Tattooed Kingpin in Society Hill, noted that the violence did not occur in the convention area on the hotel's second and third floors. About 175 exhibitors and 8,000 attendees came to the Philadelphia Tattoo Arts Convention over its three-day run, which ended yesterday.
"They had nothing to do with us," Timpel said. "Motorcycle-club enthusiasts come every year, and we've never had any problems with anyone. This year, there was a minor incident."
Timpel said the convention began nine years ago and hosts tattoo artists from countries around the world, including Germany, Japan, England, Italy, and Finland.
Posted Tue Mar 3, 2009 5:41pm AEDT
- AUTHOR Q&A
- MARCH 4, 2009, 8:53 P.M. ET, Wall Street Journal
Undercover With Hells Angels
In his new book, "No Angel," ATF agent Jay Dobyns writes about his undercover mission with the Hells Angels -- and the subsequent fallout
By JEFFREY A. TRACHTENBERG
Agent Jay Dobyns, a former star football player at the University of Arizona, had the size, attitude and tattoos to look the part of a Hells Angels member. In the summer of 2001, Mr. Dobyns, then a 14-year veteran at the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives, was asked to join a task force focused on infiltrating the motorcycle gang and stopping the sale of illegal weapons in Bullhead City, Ariz.![[hells angel]](http://s.wsj.net/public/resources/images/OB-DF995_hellsa_DV_20090304162806.jpg)
Jay Dobyns, July 2003But Mr. Dobyns came close to crossing the line. In a bid to amp up his energy level, he developed a dangerous dependence on the weight-loss pill Hydroxycut during the 21 months he spent undercover. It was not the only decision he later regretted, as he describes in his new book, "No Angel: My Harrowing Undercover Journey to the Inner Circle of the Hells Angels," written with Nils Johnson-Shelton. The work is now a best seller.
Mr. Dobyns, 47 years old, eventually had a public falling out with the ATF -- he is currently a plaintiff in a $4 million lawsuit against the agency in the U.S. District Court of Arizona, alleging defamation of character and the failure to protect him and his family, according to his attorney, James Reed, a partner in Baird, Williams & Greer, in Phoenix. Yet Mr. Dobyns remains an agency employee, now working in ballistics evidence. "I won't quit," he says.
The ATF declined to comment on the book and lawsuit. The agency said in a statement that it "does not, as a matter of policy, comment on personnel matters or pending litigation."
![[hells angels]](http://s.wsj.net/public/resources/images/OB-DF949_noange_CV_20090304142759.jpg)
Jay Dobyns: By the time the case started, I had mastered every skill and trick of the trade, the tradecraft of undercover work. In hindsight, they should have been more skeptical, but I'm good at what I do.
WSJ: Outlaw motorcycle gangs are often portrayed as drug couriers. Did you see any evidence of that?
Mr. Dobyns: Narcotics was a big part of our case. I won't say that I was hitting stash house after stash house. A lot of it was street level narcotics. I never got to the giant massive quantity of drugs that I believed were out there and that I expected to get to.
WSJ: You write that eventually warrants were served on 50 defendants, but in the epilogue you note that many received short sentences while others got off entirely. What happened?
Mr. Dobyns: The investigation was a success based on the evidence and testimony. But we lost the prosecution. The good guys couldn't get along. The agency and prosecutors disagreed over how to present evidence, and what evidence to present. The internal bickering got out of hand, and very sweet plea deals were offered and charges were dismissed. The good guys started attacking themselves. Unfortunately the risks I took and the sacrifices I made don't carry weight in the eyes of prosecutors and the court. It's a cold, calculated business.
“There, in a shallow desert ditch, was a gray-haired Caucasian male, his head split to the white meat. A pile of brains had oozed to the ground where Timmy had put Joby's .380.” Read an excerpt from "No Angel"WSJ: You had a major falling out with the ATF, where you still work, and have filed a lawsuit. Why?
Mr. Dobyns: After the case ended I began to receive death and violence threats against me and my kids. [Duh] Contracts were being offered to kill me [although some were willing to do it for free]. And the ATF did nothing. The same agency that encouraged and sent me to go toe-to-toe on behalf of their mission of fighting violent crime, ran and hid. [There's just no honor among thieves.] In essence, I've been left on my own to figure out how to defend myself. When I blew the whistle on how they handled it, that's when the falling out came. My story isn't unique [There's just no honor among thieves]. I was just the first one to stand up and call them out on it.
WSJ: Your house in Tucson burned down. What happened?
Mr. Dobyns: It was a total loss, and everything in it was a total loss. I'm still rebuilding. It was definitely arson, which has become another point of contention. The ATF didn't react to the fire initially. [There's just no honor among thieves.] They later sent a single arson investigator, who determined the cause was arson. Agency managers tried to get him to change his conclusion, but he refused. He wouldn't compromise his integrity. He was then removed from the case. [There's just no honor among thieves.] Then the ATF named me as a suspect and handed the case to the FBI. The ATF alleged I set my own house on fire. And my family was in the house at the time. They were saying I tried to kill my family.
![[jay dobyns]](http://s.wsj.net/public/resources/images/OB-DG001_hellsa_E_20090304163614.jpg)
Jay Dobyns at a biker rally in Paulden, Ariz., May 2003Mr. Dobyns: Over the course of five years we have lived in 16 different houses. It's a transient lifestyle. [Mr. Dobyns declined to say where he and his family now reside for security reasons.]
WSJ: Why are the Hells Angels such an iconic organization?
Mr. Dobyns: They are America's bad boys. And America loves bad boys. Not every Hells Angels member I met was a rapist or murderer. Some called me on Thanksgiving or Christmas because they knew I was alone and said, come on over and hang out. Most of them, most of the time, have a smile on their faces. But heaven forbid that you insult them, or get involved crossways with their business.
WSJ: Why did you want to write this book?
Mr. Dobyns: The public was left with the impression that the case failed -- that there had to be something wrong with the undercover guys. I wanted to set the record straight. The undercover case was magnificent. The agency and prosecutors left the undercover operators to be the scapegoats for the prosecution, and that wasn't the case.
WSJ: Any regrets? You seemed to like some of the gang members you met. And you put your family through hell.
Mr. Dobyns: My biggest regret is that I abandoned my family in pursuit of this mission. I take no pride in having turned my back on my wife and kids for the relentless purpose of infiltrating that gang. Do I apologize to the Hells Angels for getting inside their club? Absolutely not. My job is to handle America's business
Write to Jeffrey A. Trachtenberg at jeffrey.trachtenberg@wsj.com
(Comment: O.K. You have just made yourself a target from some one from any club or a "club wanna be" betraying one of the major MC Clubs in the country and then allow your picture in the paper????Ummmmm, hellooooo...........???And for what, after reading that excerpt it sound like the bad guys are the ones that were paying your salary. Damn sure don't sound like they had your back??)Add to Technorati Favorites
