Utah Shootout - lengthy

George Hill

Staff Alumnus
http://www.sltrib.com/09111999/utah/22982.htm


BEAVER -- Tony Alexander Hamilton is a confounding character: half wild, half wilderness genius.
On a hardscrabble stretch of Utah desert, he built windmills that generated electricity and carried water. He tended a prawling garden and tried to make do on land his religious-separatist group cultivated and then lost over a tax protest.
On Thursday, after 15 years of landgrabs, lawsuits and evictions, investigators believe Hamilton snapped. At an abandoned compound inside the 640-acre Vance Springs ranch, Hamilton is alleged to have fired a .223 caliber semi-automatic rifle at Beaver County deputies attempting to shoo him away from the land he lost six years ago.
During an initial confrontation, Hamilton, driving a pickup, peppered the ground around Beaver County Sheriff's Sgt. John Chambers, killing his dog Max, investigators claim. Chambers, on foot, returned fire, flattening two tires on the truck. As the officer ran for cover, he was struck in the leg by a bullet that severed arteries and a nerve.
"I'm hit, hit bad," Chambers radioed to Beaver County Sheriff Kenneth Yardley and two deputies, who had split up in search of other holdouts.
Because the ensuing search for Hamilton -- who later allegedly pointed his rifle at Yardley -- delayed Chambers' rescue for nearly two hours, the officer's vital signs slipped to critical after surgery, said a spokesperson at Dixie Regional Medical Center in St. George. Chambers, a 40-year-old father of three, is expected to survive, but doctors anticipate a long battle to save and rehabilitate his leg.
Few here think the shooting will end the land squabble at Vance Springs, a square mile of west desert coveted for an abundance of fresh spring water and the consecration conducted by members of the anti-government Immanuel Foundation and Fraternity of Preparation. But fellow Immanuel leaders fear Hamilton may have plundered their quest for harmony in Beaver County.
Hamilton was being held Friday at the Millard County jail in Fillmore on two counts of first-degree felony attempted aggravated murder, third-degree felony aggravated assault of Yardley, a Class A misdemeanor for killing a service dog, Class B interference with an arresting officer and Class A criminal trespass.
Bail was set at $500,000.
Immanuel members, who stood by Hamilton when the 58-year-old protested eviction amid claims of religious persecution, are distancing themselves from the man once called "a soldier of freedom."
"This man acted as an individual on his own, without any support of his brethren," said William Talmage Weis, a group leader. "I didn't even know that Tony took weapons out there or I'd have stepped in.
Other people knew and didn't step in. They should have."
In August, Hamilton, Georgia Lee Parker, who some identified as
Hamilton's girlfriend, and David Stratton, returned to Vance Springs,
about 40 miles west of Milford. They had been banished from the
land since 1993 by Beaver County and Ranger Enterprises, a
Utah/Las Vegas company that bought the property at a tax auction.
In ensuing years, the courts have ruled Immanuel members failed to
complete the proper appeals to designate the land tax exempt as a
religious commune.
Hamilton was about to initiate another round of title claims, Weis
said, when the gunbattle erupted.
Instead of filing court documents and leaving, investigators say
Hamilton and at least two others moved back to the huddle of
homes, outbuildings and underground huts built during the decade
members owned and worshipped at the pinyon and juniper
hideaway.
On Sept. 1, David Eldredge, son of the owners who purchased
the land, called Yardley to complain Hamilton and his crew were
back. Yardley told Hamilton to leave by Sept. 6.
Thursday morning, Chambers, Yardley and Beaver County
deputies Raymond Goodwin and Jim White drove to Vance Springs,
entering through a dirt road protected by a gate and a 7-foot-high
barbed wire fence that surrounds the complex.
The deputies first met Stratton and Lee, who were questioned and
left. The four officers split up and Chambers was shot. Goodwin
doubled back, saw Chambers and called for an ambulance. He then
waited until Hamilton was gone before grabbing Chambers and
leading him to a waiting ambulance.
Yardley and White eventually caught up to Hamilton, who
allegedly threatened them with his rifle. Yardley talked with Hamilton
for about 45 minutes until White tackled him from behind.
"Hamilton is an extremist," White said Friday. "He had his mind
already made up."
White believes Hamilton was intoxicated and smelled of alcohol.
Investigators recovered several beer cans near where Chambers was
shot.
Yardley said deputies did not expect trouble Thursday, and were
surprised Hamilton was armed. So was Weis.
"Hamilton was going out there not to possess the land, not to bring
weapons," he said. "He breached the policy of the organization for
non-violence . . . Mr. Hamilton is out of order and we can't support
him in it."
Family members, though, attributed the shooting to a lingering fear
Hamilton had of the sheriff's deputies.
"They are trying to say he's a zealot," said Hamilton's niece. "But
not too long ago they threw him in jail [and] pistol-whipped him. He
may not have wanted that to happen again."
Hamilton's brother, Myron, alleged Chambers fired first and that
Tony Hamilton fired back in defense.
"There are no less than 30 bullet holes in Tony's pickup," he said.
"This is probably the beginning of the end of the world as far as I'm
concerned."
Investigators say Chambers fired about 10 rounds and Hamilton
about seven.
Hamilton was born and raised on a farm in Fairview, one of nine
children of modest parents who raised turkeys, chickens and a few
cattle. At 18, Hamilton joined the U.S. Navy. He married in
Germany, had two children and then divorced. Family members do
not believe he is a polygamist, but acknowledge an extreme religious
conviction and deep distrust of government.
"He's a pig-headed man," his niece said. "But he's very loving . . .
They really weren't hurting anybody. They just weren't paying back
taxes."
During better days, Hamilton serviced drilling rigs in Beaver
County for Mark Dotson, a Milford city councilman who runs a
mineral exploration company.
"He was very conscientious about the equipment and very
knowledgable, but radical," Dotson said. "The man struck me as an
absolute survivalist."
When Hamilton had an abundance of potatoes or other
vegetables, he drove to Milford and gave them to people he thought
needed them.
"He was a very kind-hearted man," the councilman said. "It's just
that he figured it was his land and nobody could take it away from
him."
Dotson believes Hamilton and the Immanuel sect have
sympathizers in Beaver County, although he is not among them.
"They have no right, nor does anybody else have a right, to put
our police force in harm's way," he said. "They have crossed the line
nobody should cross."
There may have been a precursor to Thursday's violent eruption.
This summer, the day before Independence Day, a fire was set at
neighboring Meadow Springs. The early evening fire would likely
have reduced the Immanuel compound to ashes, if not for a wind
shift.
Fire investigators for the Bureau of Land Management believe the
blaze was intentionally set, although there were no witnesses or
suspects. The fire burned 1,138 acres.
In 1985, Immanuel members -- which once numbered 200 -- filed
"declarations of sovereignty" in Beaver County, which they claimed
severed official ties to any government. Under their creed, they
renounce driver licenses, Social Security cards, birth certificates and
other citizenship documentation.
At one time, members lived under a "United Order" cooperative
system, denouncing money in favor of communally shared property.
They base their beliefs on broad interpretations of Mormon doctrine,
the Bible, U.S. Supreme Court rulings and English common law as
outlined in the Magna Carta.
But a decade of legal wranglings appear to have splintered the
group. Other Immanuel members are searching for a new settlement
in Utah, Weis said.
Hamilton, though, continued a litigious path he hoped would one
day convince a court to reconsider the group's claimed religious
exemption in Beaver County.
"I've always worried that one day something like this would
happen," said Dale Lambert, a Salt Lake City attorney who
represents Beaver County's insurance company. "They won't give
up."


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"Supreme authority derives from a mandate from the masses. Not from some farsicle aquatic ceremony."

RAGE AGAINST THE MACHINE
The Critic formerly known as Kodiac
 
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