The problem of people smuggling contraband into jails is as old as jails themselves, and it’s impossible to stop it completely.
The Gazette asked Capt. Craig Strouse, assistant administrator of the Rock County Jail, about the problem last week, after it was learned two women had overdosed on heroin they had brought into the jail.
“Addictions don’t stop when somebody comes into the facility, so it’s not uncommon that stuff is smuggled in through a body cavity,” Strouse said.
At least one of the overdosing inmates was revived with Narcan, according to a criminal complaint. Afterward, she turned over the rest of the drug that she had secreted in an intimate area.
The drug tested positive for both heroin and fentanyl, a combination seen in many local overdose deaths in recent years.
Heroin is not the only thing inmates smuggle into the jail. Cigarettes are the most common banned substance jailers see, Strouse said.
Preventing smuggling altogether seems impossible.
The law allows someone sentenced to jail to be strip-searched, but many jail inmates are there because of pending cases, probation or parole violations or for not paying fines.
Legal precedents suggest it would be OK to strip-search anyone who will be in jail for more than 14 hours, Strouse said, but Rock County won’t go there on a regular basis.
“We we don’t find many things on a strip search, and they’re pretty intrusive,” Strouse said.
Jailers will perform strip searches if they have reason to believe the inmate is concealing something, he added.
But if an inmate goes so far as to swallow something, or secrete it in a bodily orifice, jailers won’t find it, Strouse said.
State law prohibits jailers from performing body-cavity searches.
A cavity search must be performed by a medical professional, and that usually requires a search warrant, Strouse said.
To get a judge to approve a search warrant means authorities would need evidence that they were likely to find something.
X-rays or other scanning devices would be extremely costly. And even if used, the question of how many times a person could be exposed to the radiation over a lifetime would come up, Strouse said.
The most common ways to look for contraband are pat-down searches and a metal detector, which can tip jailers to the presence of lighters, cellphones, weapons or items that could be made into weapons, Strouse said.
“It’s a significant concern,” Strouse said about drugs in the jail.
“We’re better (at dealing with overdoses) than we were 20 years ago,” Strouse added, in part because of Narcan, which can sometimes stop an overdose from heroin and related drugs, but not cocaine and other non-opiates.
Another change is the 24/7 presence of a medical professional at the jail—normally a nurse who can contact a doctor.
Strouse could point to only one major change in stopping contraband in recent years: Inmates are no longer allowed to use their own underwear or socks, or to receive these items.
The county started providing all underwear about 10 years ago because people were sewing contraband into the clothing, Strouse said.
Strouse noted that inmates who have work-release privileges arrive and leave every day, and every re-entry is an opportunity to smuggle something in.
Jailers will “shake down” cells and common areas from time to time, Strouse said. One thing that will prompt a search is the smell of tobacco smoke.
The Huber dorm, where work-release inmates stay, sees the most shake-downs.
The most common items jailers find are tobacco and lighters, Strouse said. They also find marijuana, synthetic marijuana, crack cocaine, heroin/fentanyl and items that can be made into shanks, or makeshift knives.
A common smuggling route is the mail, so jailers inspect it, Strouse said.
Liquefied LSD or other drugs can be absorbed in the paper of a letter, so experienced jailers look for telltale indications the paper has been wet, Strouse said.
They also scrutinize anything that is glued, such as a stamp.
“We obviously search anything that looks altered,” Strouse said.
Jailers find contraband several times a week, Strouse said. He didn’t have statistics on smuggled heroin but guessed it happens less than once a month, probably several times a year.
Decades ago, Lake Michigan teemed with nutrients and green algae, casting a brownish-green hue that resembled the mouth of an inland river rather than a vast, open-water lake.
Back then, the lake’s swampy complexion was less than inviting to swimmers and kayakers, but it supported a robust fishing industry as several companies trawled for perch, and sport fishermen cast their lines for trout. But in the past 20 years, Lake Michigan has undergone a dramatic transformation.
In analyzing satellite images between 1998 and 2012, researchers at the Michigan Tech Research Institute were surprised to find that lakes Michigan and Huron are now clearer than Lake Superior. In a study published last year, the researchers said limiting the amount of agricultural and sewage runoff in the lake has had an immense impact. However, the emergence of invasive mussels, which number in the trillions and have the ability to filter the entire volume of Lake Michigan in four to six days, has had an even greater effect.
“When you look at the scientific terms, we are approaching some oceanic values,” said Michael Sayers, a research engineer at Michigan Technological University and co-author of the study. “We have some ways to go, but we are getting a lot closer to Lake Tahoe. A lot of times, you’ll hear from people that the water is so blue it compares to something in tropical areas.”
While appealing, the clarity comes at a significant cost to wildlife. In filtering the lake, the mussels have decimated the phytoplankton, a single-celled, green algae that serves as the base of the food chain. For much of the past decade, prey fish, like alewives, have remained at historic lows, prompting state managers to scale back the annual stocks of prized predators such as king salmon.
The startling evolution has called into question the future of Great Lakes marine life and the region’s $7 billion fishing industry.
“Clearer is not necessarily better,” said Robert Shuchman, co-director of the Michigan Tech Research Institute. “Clearer water means less phytoplankton in the water column, and they’re the basic building block in the food web. The idea is, the little fish eat algae, and the bigger fish eat the little fish.
“There are some folks out there now that think Lake Michigan and Huron could become ecological deserts from a fishing standpoint. The food web could totally collapse because you don’t have the various organisms you need to sustain it.”
For ages, the phytoplankton fed the zooplankton, which were eaten by small, foraging fish. As the fast-filtering mussels reduce the plankton populations, there isn’t enough food to support the diet of many foraging fish. In addition, there’s not enough plankton or nutrients clouding the water to hide these small prey fish from predator fish.
“It’s a game of hide-and-seek in a brightly lit environment,” said Henry Vanderploeg, a research ecologist for the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration.
After years of working aboard a relative’s charter boat, Rick Bentley was leaving the fishing industry in the early 1990s to pursue a career in finance when the mussels began arriving.
“A lot of people were sounding massive alarms about how the mussels could change everything,” Bentley said.
Their fears turned out to be prophetic. As the water cleared up, the fish cleared out. Since the introduction of the mussels, there’s been a sharp decline in nearly all fish species in Lake Michigan, including king salmon, scientists say.
At the height of king salmon fishing in the mid- to late-1980s, around 10 million pounds of the fish were harvested from the lake each year, according to research by the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service and agencies from four states. In recent years, fishermen are managing to catch only about 3 million pounds.
Despite the drop, Bentley, who had fond memories of fishing’s heyday, returned to the lake in 2007 with his charter company, Windy City Salmon. The passion from his fishing days brought him back, but to survive, Bentley said, fishermen have to change their age-old techniques.
“As a captain, fisherman and a businessman who wants to put out a good product, I know the lake is adapting, and we need to adapt with it,” Bentley said. “When I came back 10 years ago, many of the captains I knew were winding down their careers, ready to hang it up. Some adapted. Some of them stayed in their old ways, and their catches tended to suffer.”
King salmon are low-light-feeding fish, so with sunlight reaching into lower depths, it’s become increasingly difficult to catch them during midday hours, Bentley said. He’s found fishing at dawn and sundown provides the best chance to catch salmon.
The clearer waters have made flashers and dodgers, devices that reflect light and attract fish, more effective tools, Bentley said. Still, remaining undetected is a challenge.
“Generally, fish are more likely to keep their distance because they can see the boat and gear now,” he said.
Over the years, the Great Lakes have endured numerous encounters with invasive species.
The mussels might be the worst Lake Michigan has seen since the sea lamprey, an eel-like parasitic fish that slithered into the Upper Great Lakes in the 1940s through the Erie and Welland canals, according to David “Bo” Bunnell, a research fishery biologist at the U.S. Geological Survey’s Great Lakes Science Center. Sea lampreys latched onto large fish and drained their blood, leading to a collapse in populations of native predators like lake trout.
“They pretty much devastated native lake trout, lake whitefish and other native species that were already suffering from overfishing,” Bunnell said. “That was the one-two death punch.”
Without predators, the population of alewives, another nonnative species that came through the canals around the same time, went unchecked. Though they were abundant, the saltwater fish, already weakened from living in freshwater, befouled local beaches in spring die-offs after being exposed to higher temperature fluctuations when they came close to shore to spawn.
In the 1960s, coastal managers introduced two species of Pacific salmon to contain the alewives and boost fishing: coho and king. The king salmon brought the alewives under control and quickly became a favorite of sport fishermen.
“They get the biggest, they’re a very strong fish and they offer a helluva fight. They’re a 20-pound class fish, so they take 8 or 9 yards off the reel, and it might take 15 to 20 minutes to bring them in,” Bentley said.
The arrival of zebra and quagga mussels led to the collapse of alewives and king salmon in Lake Huron in the early 2000s.
Scientists say the crash in alewives stemmed from less food availability and more predation by the king salmon, which was stocked by the Michigan Department of Natural Resources and naturally reproducing. The king salmon diet is almost exclusively made up of alewives.
The Lake Huron king salmon, emaciated as their favorite prey became harder to find, migrated to Lake Michigan in search of alewives.
Nearly two decades later, the same progression is happening in Lake Michigan.
“There’s an old Chinese saying, ‘When there is crystal-clear water, there is no fish,’ ” said Yu-Chun Kao, a postdoctoral scientist at Michigan State University.
For a doctoral dissertation at the University of Michigan, Kao examined Lake Huron’s king salmon collapse, concluding that the fishery that once existed likely won’t ever return to its glory days because of the alewife shortage.
Last year, Kao ran hundreds of computer simulations to consider changes in mussels, nutrients and fish stocking in Lake Michigan. His study suggested that Lake Michigan might be better suited for lake trout and steelhead, given the two species of trout can switch from eating alewives to bottom-dwelling round goby, an invasive prey fish that eats cladophora and tiny quagga mussels.
The king salmon, he found, is the most susceptible to changes driven by the mussels, meaning its numbers will likely continue to decline as the mussels continue to spread. But there’s still a chance Lake Michigan could support a substantial salmon population if stocking is reduced to alleviate pressure on the struggling alewife population.
Lake Superior may have relinquished its title of clearest of the Great Lakes, but it also doesn’t have the same vulnerabilities to some invasive species as the other lakes.
It has staved off the mussel migration because it’s colder and there’s less calcium in its water, a mineral the mussels need to make their shells.
Since 1984, the state of Illinois has raised fish to stock Lake Michigan at Jake Wolf Memorial Hatchery in Topeka, Ill., where the staff oversees eggs until they grow into fingerlings. Built atop a huge aquifer, the facility draws water into its network of concrete raceways and plastic-lined ponds, where it has up to 15 species of cold-, cool- and warm-water fish.
Each year, the hatchery staff, which works with state biologists, rears millions of fish in hopes of supporting a stable ecosystem and decent season for anglers. The upheaval in the food chain has made it all the more challenging.
“It’s a daunting task,” hatchery manager Steve Krueger said. “Without stocking, I think the fishery in Lake Michigan would continue to falter.”
Stocking has become more calculated in recent years—for Illinois and the three other states, Wisconsin, Indiana and Michigan, that border the lake.
In 2006, all the alewives in Lake Michigan weighed nearly 10,000 metric tons, according to U.S. Geological Survey estimates. By 2016, the entire prey fish population in Lake Michigan, including alewives and a half-dozen other species, weighed about 11,000 metric tons.
In response to the lack of alewives, fishery managers around Lake Michigan have called for reducing the number of king salmon at least twice in the past decade. In 2013, they cut the number by 50 percent, releasing 1.8 million into the lake, down from 3.3 million the previous year. Last year, managers proposed making even deeper cuts, stocking only 690,000 king salmon, a 62 percent reduction from 2016.
In addition to filtering the water, mussels have also altered the landscape of the lake bed.
The voracious eaters are polluting the lake bottom with feces. As sunlight reaches greater depths, it converts nutrients from the mussels’ excrement into nuisance algae known as cladophora.
During storms, wave action rips up the algae and washes it ashore, where it is known for its potent stench and propensity for killing birds.
The growth in cladophora raises alarms, because it could help establish Lake Michigan’s next potential invasive species: Asian carp. The species has invaded the Mississippi River system and has been reported just 9 miles from Lake Michigan.
Asian carp rely on plankton, which they may not find if it reaches the lake, but researchers say the fish also feed on cladophora.
Researchers say there may no longer be enough food for the Asian carp in open waters, but there is likely enough floating algae and cladophora near shore to sustain them.
Scientists say the invasive mussels may have reached their limits. With less plankton, the concentration of mussels in Lake Michigan dropped 40 percent between 2010 and 2015, according to a yet-to-be published report by Buffalo State University’s Great Lakes Center. But the total weight of mussels in the lake has risen, suggesting that the surviving mussels are growing larger, said Alexander Karatayev, the center’s director. It’s unclear what that might mean for the future.
“However, it is extremely important to keep monitoring the (quagga mussel) population to understand if this decline is a long-term trend and if the population eventually will stabilize or will fluctuate substantially,” Karatayev said.
Joseph Jakubowski expressed his anger at society last April when he hand-wrote 161 pages and mailed them to President Donald Trump.
By all appearances, he is still angry—angry enough to ask for his second jury trial while continually saying he committed the crimes he is accused of.
The trial, on charges of burglary while arming himself, theft and possession of burglary tools, starts today. It’s likely to be one of the oddest trials in county history.
“I see no reason to respect or honor a system of tyranny and of terrorism,” Jakubowski wrote to Judge James Daley last November in a 10-page, vulgarity-laced letter from jail.
It appears the Janesville man was talking about the government. He ended the letter with the words “Anarchy” and “Death to the system.”
In the letter, he expresses anger for what he sees as being unjustly accused of domestic violence 10 years ago, and he links that to statements by law enforcement in the current case.
He wrote that he was characterized as “a homeless, drug-crazed maniac who robbed a gun store to shoot up schools.
“This is a (expletive) lie! (Expletive)!,” he continued. “Way worse than just being called a woman beater. Now the public believes I was out to kill kids! ... Wish you corrupt (expletive)s Just die! (Expletive)ing killed me! Killed my name! With lies.”
Authorities did announce that they feared Jakubowski had robbed the gun shop with the intent to attack a school. That came after an acquaintance told police Jakubowski might do that.
Eight days later, after they had read the manifesto, the heads of the Janesville Police Department and Rock County Sheriff’s Office said they didn’t see a strong threat to schools, but they noted Jakubowski expressed anger at government and religion.
Jakubowski admitted in his federal trial last fall that he took 18 firearms from the gun shop.
He then drove to a rural road, set his SUV on fire and disappeared. He was captured 10 days later, after a massive manhunt.
He just wanted to live “off the grid” out west, his attorney in the state case has said.
A federal judge sentenced him to 14 years in prison in Madison on charges of stealing from a federally licensed firearms dealer and being a felon in possession of a firearm.
One of his previous felony convictions was for fighting with a Janesville police officer and pulling repeatedly on the officer’s sidearm in the 2008 incident.
Officer Jimmy Holford III testified at the federal trial that he believed Jakubowski was trying to kill him.
During that trial, Jakubowski’s attorney admitted in his opening statement that Jakubowski committed the burglary and took the guns. Jakubowski later testified that he did it.
As he prepared for his local trial, he suggested more odd behavior. He told Judge Daley that he can speak for himself and doesn’t need his defense attorney, Michael Murphy.
“Jury don’t matter, OK? I’m going to do the same thing in federal trial that I’m going to do on state,” Jakubowski told Daley at a pre-trial hearing.
“That’s the only reason that I want to do a trial, is just to tell the public the truth,” Jakubowski continued. “... I don’t need the government to tell it. I can tell it.”
Jakubowski seems unmoved by additional prison time. The state charges he faces carry a combined maximum prison term of 24½ years in prison.
The trial is scheduled for three days, but court officials have said it might take no more than two.
Several news outlets have been granted permission to have their cameras in court, including TV stations from Madison and Milwaukee.
Another observer, the internet-based Law and Crime Network, plans to live-stream the trial starting with opening statements, which would begin after the jury is selected, possibly sometime this afternoon.
local • 3A, 6A
Tariff plan hasn’t affected work
Plans for two 1,400-acre solar arrays in Walworth County have not been slowed by President Donald Trump’s recent decision to impose a 30 percent tariff on foreign-made solar equipment, a spokesman for the company working on the Walworth County projects said. “We haven’t stopped any work toward any project,” said Neil Palmer, project consultant for Invenergy.
state • 2A
Foxconn now seeking permits
Foxconn Technology Group’s request for an air emissions permit from the Department of Natural Resources details plans for three manufacturing plants in Racine County and provides the first public glimpse at the scope of regulatory requirements the company will face in Wisconsin. State legislation that provided the incentives also exempted the company from a variety of environmental requirements, such as disturbing wetlands and building in stream beds, that other companies have to follow. But the company must get approval for air, wastewater and storm water permits—and approval to tap water from Lake Michigan. Company officials have said it plans to have the flat-panel plant up and operating by January 2019.
sports • 1B-3B
Villanova holds off Marquette
Top-ranked Villanova avoided another upset in Milwaukee by surviving an injury scare to preseason All-American Jalen Brunson and getting key contributions from DiVincenzo in place of sidelined guard Phil Booth. Brunson scored 31 points despite leaving briefly with an ankle injury, while DiVincenzo added 23 and a key bucket late in an 85-82 win Sunday over Marquette in Milwaukee.