December 12, 2010
By John Agar

The Grand Rapids Press did a six-month investigation into how legal guns end up in the hands of criminals. It also marks the beginning of a partnership with Silent Observer to get illegal guns off the street. Here's the kick-off to the series:

Propped up on the ground by his elbows, dying of three bullets to his chest, Gabriel Hood looked at the gun he had just dropped.

The black 9mm Smith & Wesson lay in the dirt a few feet away.

Hood shifted his gaze to the police officer who had just shot him in self-defense, then back at the handgun he had pointed at the officer.

Hood would never spend the $1,258 in his left pants pocket.

And the gun?

The path to this violent showdown in March on the city’s Northeast Side is typical of the way many weapons get out onto the streets: They are stolen and fall into the wrong hands, in this case a paroled fugitive with a violent past.

Over a six-month period, The Press conducted an in-depth investigation into the weapons being used on our streets, in crimes both high-profile and unpublicized.

The research found a sort of criminal time warp, where legitimate guns disappear for years, only to reappear in a more sinister context. Police call it the “time to crime.”

Among the findings:

• Most guns linked to local crimes originated here, often taken in burglaries or stolen by family or friends desperate for cash.

• Some weapons circulate for decades. In two cases, handguns stolen 34 years ago reappeared this year in West Michigan, one in a high school locker, the other in a traffic stop that was the first incident in a deadly chain of events in October.

• In rare instances, the time to crime is violently quick. The 9mm that Gabriel Hood pointed at a cop on March 18 disappeared from a Lowell Township home less than three months earlier.

• Some guns are used more than once. One has been tied to at least five shootings, including the killing of a Grand Rapids college student robbed for $10. That firearm remains unrecovered.

• And some guns travel. One, stolen from a Rockford business nearly a decade ago, turned up two years later in an Iowa school locker. Another, taken from the same business, was used just last month by a teen who fired the .44 Magnum at detectives in southeast Michigan.

The findings are derived from scores of interviews and thousands of pages of documents — some public, many not.

In a number of cases, authorities suspect gun owners report the firearms stolen and sell them on the street. They have high value there and, as durable objects, no depreciation, said Sgt. Terry McGee, a Grand Rapids police detective.

“Even when they’re used in a crime, a lot of (criminals) hang onto them,” McGee said.

“Guns are very valued with today’s way of doing things.”

Police concern

In the spring, Grand Rapids police responded to a rash of shootings, but bad marksmanship kept casualties limited. Those incidents and questions about Hood’s gun sparked The Press’ review, but authorities already were concerned. Grand Rapids police and federal agents launched an internal investigation two years ago.

“The question was, ‘How do we know we don’t have people buying large numbers of guns out of state (where laws are less stringent) and bringing them to Michigan?’” Grand Rapids Police Capt. Jeff Hertel said.

While the federal-local study was not exhaustive, investigators looked at the source of 110 guns seized from Jan. 1, 2007, to April 7, 2008.

Of the 64 that could be traced, 38 originated in Michigan — most of those from West Michigan.

More importantly, there was no single person making multiple purchases — what police call a “straw buyer” — for convicts needing guns. Suspects
18 to 21 years old constituted the largest age group possessing illegal guns.

And most guns were stolen from homes — often many years earlier.

Just last week, Detroit homicide detectives recovered a .50-caliber Desert Eagle — a $1,500 handgun popular on movie sets for its intimidating look —that was reported stolen nearly seven years ago from a home on Grand Rapids’ Southeast Side.

The owner told police his stepdaughter, who was struggling with alcohol and drugs, had moved out three weeks before the gun went missing. The stepdaughter, then an 11th-grader, reportedly sold the gun to a friend, according to a police report.

It’s unclear yet if it has been used in a crime.

Eighty percent of the thousands of guns recovered annually in Michigan have been on the street at least three years, according to a 2009 study by the federal Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives.

The average is nearly 13 years.

Cooperating with ATF

Grand Rapids police recovered 382 illegal weapons in 2009, most of them pistols and revolvers.

This spring Grand Rapids police approached the ATF for help responding to a “rash of gun violence,” bureau spokesman Donald Dawkins said.

That led to pairing police and federal agents on patrol, to bring federal cases, which carry more severe penalties.

The guns they find range in all shapes and size.

McGee, the Grand Rapids detective, showed a .357 revolver with a laser sight: “A shots-fired call. Officers got there and found the gun on the scene.”

It is among a number of handguns taken recently from suspects: a pink .22-caliber semiautomatic, a .44-caliber revolver, a beat-up .22, its handle gone.

Officers found the last one when they stopped a couple of teens who were looking in cars. The small gun, easy to conceal, resembled a broken toy.

“It would still fire, though,” McGee said. “Big, small, they all get your attention.”

While recoveries in the city average more than one per day, it’s the weekends when the guns really come out.

Cases in point this year:

• Saturday, July 24, just before midnight: Police respond to a disturbance on Caulfield Avenue SW and watch Randy Thomas, 23, throw something over a fence as he runs. Officer Timothy Hoornstra finds a loaded .357-caliber Magnum. It was reported stolen in Wyoming in 2006.

• Friday, Feb. 5, about 7:20 p.m.: Farm worker Socorro Hurtado-Garcia, upset at being laid off, allegedly shoots Alpine Township farmer Ed Rasch to death. The .38-caliber Smith & Wesson was stolen in Jackson, Fla., in 2008.

• Saturday, April 17, 3:18 a.m. Police receive a report of a passenger waving a handgun out a car window on Eastern Avenue SE. The driver tells officers there is no gun. He says he and a friend went to a couple of fast-food restaurants. Police find the revolver with four live rounds and a spent cartridge in the cylinder. Pieces of a McDonald’s cheeseburger are on the gun.

Some suspects go to disturbing lengths to obtain their weapons.

Two years ago, sheriff’s detectives investigated a suicide on public land in northern Kent County. A man was found dead in the woods, but there was no gun. A suicide note was found at the man’s house, however, and determined to be valid.

Someone had found the body and taken the weapon. It has not been recovered.

Going unreported

Michigan law requires that lost or stolen guns be reported. That doesn’t always happen. If the owner suspects a family member took it, it won’t always be reported. In some cases, the previous owners are unaware the gun was missing. Or so they may say.

“There’s no doubt in our minds that some guns have been traded by people and exchanged for narcotics,” said McGee, the Grand Rapids detective. “You get a hold of people, ‘Oh geez, we weren’t aware it was missing.’”

He said it is difficult to prove a homeowner intentionally failed to report a weapon missing. He could not recall charges being filed in such cases.

More often, legal owners are legitimate victims.

When crack cocaine took over their lives, Cedar Springs residents Simon and Gennie Beatty burglarized more homes than they could recall, a prosecutor wrote. Their favorite target was firearms.

From March 12 to April 6, 2009, the pair stole 17 handguns and long guns across West Michigan.

Afterward, they sold the firearms in Indiana, according to an indictment. The pair pleaded guilty to burglaries in five counties. His earliest release is 2023, hers is 2021. The federal government also tacked on concurrent firearms sentences.

Guns trending younger

Grand Rapids police Officer Gene Tobin spent seven years on the night shift. His late-night investigation of a prostitute beating, followed by a chase of armed suspect Troy Brake helped link Brake to a 2008 quadruple slaying in Ottawa County’s Wright Township.

“I can’t remember in my amount of time here ever having this amount of guns, handguns,” he said.

In the early morning, once the bar crowds disperse, those with guns are often the only ones on the street, Tobin said.

“Most of the people out at that time don’t have to get up for work. When you contact them, you’re looking for it.”

He has seen 14-year-olds packing. That’s his other concern, one widely shared in law enforcement — young guns.

A deadly scenario played out in late October, when friends gathered for a 16-year-old’s birthday party on Grand Rapids’ Southeast Side. After an argument in the driveway, Sanqua Cummings, 16, allegedly shot and killed Bobby Hughes, 17.

The .22-caliber handgun has not been recovered.

“These are kids shooting kids,” Wyoming Police Chief James Carmody said.

“A 16-year-old shooting a 17-year-old at a birthday party? It’s a 16-year-old. Are we too conditioned to be shocked by it?”

Retired Detective Phil Betz offers a perspective from someone who spent nearly 32 of his 34 years in law enforcement in Grand Rapids.

“When I first started working narcotics 25 years ago, we did a search warrant and recovered a handgun. That was something. We talked about that for a while.