Arrested officer has only himself to blame

There seems to be a groundswell of community support for Christian Butterfield, the former Vero Beach police officer who was arrested two weeks ago on a felony charge that he illegally disposed of more than 20 grams of marijuana seized during a traffic stop last month.

There shouldn’t be.

Don’t take offense: It’s perfectly understandable some people would feel sympathy for a rookie cop who made an ill-conceived and costly mistake, one that caused him to resign, derailed his budding career in law enforcement and could result in him going through life with a criminal record.

But contrary to what we’re hearing from Butterfield’s attorney, Andy Metcalf, the police and prosecutors had no choice but to arrest and charge his client, based on the evidence available.

“I understand there are people who think he shouldn’t have been arrested, but we arrest civilians for the same crime,” Vero Beach Police Chief David Currey said. “I don’t think people want us to treat police officers differently, just because they’re police officers.”

They don’t.

Apparently, though, there are a lot of people in our community who want police officers to treat suspects differently, just because the crime involves marijuana.

You need to move beyond the false narrative circulating around town and being pushed hard on social-media outlets, however, where too many of our neighbors are complaining that Butterfield didn’t deserve to be treated so harshly.

We’re not talking about some just-out-of-high-school teenager who didn’t know any better.

Butterfield is 31 years old. He’s a former United States Marine. Prior to being hired by the Vero Beach Police Department in October, he worked as a corrections officer and firefighter, both positions of considerable responsibility.

He had enough life experience. Given his background, he should have had the maturity, discipline and training necessary to conduct himself in accordance with departmental rules and state law.

At the very least, his military history – serving in what many consider to be the most demanding branch of our Armed Forces – should have taught him the importance of following orders.

Yet, displaying a mind-boggling lack of common sense, Butterfield knowingly chose to disobey a standing order regarding officer discretion and, worse, toss into a dumpster a felony amount of marijuana he confiscated during the June 1 traffic stop.

He got rid of evidence. He was arrested. He was charged with a third-degree felony, which is punishable by up to five years in prison.

And now he’s a martyr?

His actions should be lauded, simply because the case he botched involved a controlled substance that, in a few months, could become legal for adult recreational use in Florida?

He should be embraced as some sort of local law-enforcement hero who needs to be fiercely defended because he decided – after a 45-minute, marijuana-related traffic stop during which he detained and handcuffed a 19-year-old driver and his 17-year-old passenger – to not charge the suspects with any crimes?

That was the sentiment shared in a significant majority of the 200-plus comments found last weekend on the department’s Facebook page, under a June 19 posting of the arrest affidavit.

Many of commenters expressed outrage over Butterfield’s arrest and wrote that he should be praised, not punished, for the “compassion” he showed in deciding to not “ruin the lives” of the young driver and his passenger with felony charges.

Some went so far as to state that Vero Beach needs more cops like Butterfield – and, to be sure, similar remarks have been heard in conversations throughout our community.
That’s troubling.

Apparently, it doesn’t matter that Butterfield found in the suspects’ car a baggie containing more than 20 grams of marijuana and a THC-loaded vape pen, or that the possession of either is a third-degree felony under current Florida law.

Nor does it matter that Butterfield’s decision to let the suspects go without being charged clearly violated at least one of the department’s General Orders, which prohibit officers from exercising arrest discretion when the alleged crime rises above a misdemeanor.

More disturbing, though, was the willingness of Butterfield’s supporters to shrug off his decision to discard the confiscated marijuana and vape pen by tossing them into a dumpster in the police station’s parking lot, even though tampering with evidence is also a felony.

That doesn’t bother you?

Are we really supposed to celebrate the conduct of a police officer who deliberately violated orders, knowingly broke the law, and then recklessly endangered the public safety by dropping a baggie containing about 27 grams of marijuana and a THC-loaded vape pen into an easily accessed dumpster?

Would you still defend Butterfield’s actions if some dumpster-diving homeless person had found the baggie, smoked enough of the marijuana to become disoriented and wandered into traffic on one of the busy roads near the police station?

How would you feel if some curious pre-teen kid from an adjacent neighborhood looked inside the dumpster, grabbed the baggie of marijuana and ate a fatal amount?

You might want to reconsider your position, especially now that Butterfield, who was released from jail after posting a $10,000 bond on June 19, essentially admitted that he violated a General Order and tampered with evidence when he created a GoFundMe page he hopes will generate contributions to help cover his legal expenses.

Butterfield, who resigned on June 12, wrote he “decided to not arrest the young men because the possession would be a felony and severely impact the rest of their lives,” later adding that he “disposed of the marijuana by throwing it away in the VBPD dumpster” in an “attempt to be an empathetic officer.”

But it’s ridiculous to blame Butterfield’s predicament on Police Chief Currey, or Assistant State Attorney William Long, or even Circuit Judge Robert Meadows, who signed the arrest warrant.

Nor should anyone try to pin this distressing episode on Butterfield’s shift supervisor – a sergeant who, according to the arrest affidavit, was the first to notice that the now-former officer was making traffic stops and claiming to have issued written warnings, but wasn’t filing the required reports.

It was that missing paperwork that prompted members of Currey’s command staff to review Butterfield’s body-camera footage from the wee-hour traffic stop in question.

And it was the findings of that review that convinced Currey to conduct the internal investigation that ultimately led to Butterfield’s arrest.

Had Butterfield filed a report and entered as evidence the marijuana he seized – as he was required to do – he might’ve faced in-house disciplinary action for not making a felony arrest during the stop.

But he would not have been charged with a crime and, probably, would still be a cop.

Instead, Butterfield didn’t file a report, didn’t turn in evidence and, after dumping the marijuana and vape pen, pretended the traffic stop never happened.

Currey said Butterfield, upon returning to the station at the end of his shift, made no effort to discuss the events of the stop with his sergeant, nor did he initiate any such conversation when he showed up for work the next two nights.

Why?

“He was probably hoping no one would look at the video,” Currey said.

Surely, Butterfield should have known – after two other officers joined him at the scene and knew he had uncovered evidence of two felonies – that someone would notice he didn’t file a report on the stop.

For those wondering: Currey said the department’s internal investigation was also looking into the conduct of those other officers, who witnessed Butterfield’s discretionary decision to not arrest the suspects in violation of a General Order.

The internal investigation report, which Currey said was to be released this week, should be telling. But will it tell us the real reasons Butterfield did what he did?

Last week, Currey could only speculate, basing his remarks on what he could deduce from Butterfield often failing to file reports on traffic stops.

“I think he liked being a police officer, being out there and making stops,” the chief said, “but he wanted to avoid the work involved in filing reports.”

Currey also believes Butterfield’s aversion to paperwork – not compassion – was the deciding factor in choosing to not arrest the driver, who admitted the marijuana was his and said he used it regularly to treat behavioral disorders.

Butterfield also allowed the juvenile passenger to walk away from the scene, even though he had been mostly uncooperative during their exchanges, providing grounds for a possible resisting-arrest charge.

At one point deep into the stop, Currey said, an exasperated Butterfield could be heard on the body-cam video saying he no longer wanted to continue with his on-scene investigation and wanted to “go have fun.”

Shortly afterward, Butterfield put the evidence in the trunk of his patrol car and drove off, stopping only minutes later at the police station dumpster.

“The only person he was trying to help,” Currey said, “was himself.”

Butterfield’s decision to not arrest anyone and quickly get rid of the marijuana would seem to bolster the chief’s hypothesis. The now-former officer’s actions during the stop should also raise doubts about his true motives and questions about his professionalism.

As Currey noted: Butterfield arrested, handcuffed and then un-arrested the two suspects, and never read them their Miranda rights.

“There were a lot of things he didn’t do right,” the chief said of the traffic stop, adding that Butterfield could have done his job – made the arrest and entered the marijuana and vape pen into evidence – and still tried to help the driver.

Butterfield could have discussed the case with his supervisors and offered to speak to the State Attorney’s Office on the driver’s behalf.

“He had options,” Currey said.

Butterfield had plenty of options – from the moment he decided to pursue the driver’s car to the moment he disposed of the marijuana in a dumpster in an unsecured compound – and he kept choosing the wrong one.

He brought this on himself.

Photos by Joshua Kodis