“I’ve been doing this for over twenty years, and you sure look like a drug dealer to me.” “I was in a convoy, and the vehicle forty feet in front of me hit an IED,” he says. “The explosion ricocheted, which caused our vehicle to flip.” Part of the metal from the Humvee’s frame went into his kneecap. The hot metal was rubbery, and Dean’s fellow soldiers were able to pull the shrapnel out. “If not, I would have lost my lower leg,” he says. Dean’s military career ended on August 12, 2008, with an honorable discharge for medical reasons. He enrolled at the Aviation Institute of Maintenance in Virginia and then in an HVAC program at Everest College. During that time, he was offered work as a mechanic for Mantech International, a military contractor in Afghanistan. He worked in the warzone to help repair combat vehicles. It was Ramadan in the summer of 2013 when a missile landed at the base where Dean worked. “I fell off the vehicle I was working on and split the side of my head open. That’s all I can remember,” he says. “I woke up with nine staples in my head.” Dean came home to a woman he had met while working in Afghanistan. They clicked as a couple and moved into a home together near Hillside High School in Durham. Dean landed three jobs as an armed security guard. Then came the encounter with the sheriff’s deputies that led to what he calls his “downfall.” On August 7, 2016, Dean had an appointment at the VA Hospital, where he received injections every six months for headaches and nerve damage. Dean says he had to find someone to ride with him because medical officials would not allow him to drive after taking the heavy dosages of pain medicine. The only person available was Jason Brown. Dean says that when he went to pick Brown up, he did not know his friend was wanted by police for failing to appear in court. Dean and Brown stopped for a red light at the intersection of NC 98 and Lynn Road. Dean says he traveled slowly through the light after it changed and noticed a sheriff’s patrol car pull behind him. The cruiser’s lights were flashing, but the siren was not activated. According to the complaint, Dean stepped on his brakes and turned on his signal to indicate he was moving into the far-right lane, out of the patrol car’s way. That’s when a white Crown Victoria sped up and struck Dean’s Dodge Charger to bring it to a halt. Nearly half a dozen deputies rushed to the Dodge with guns drawn. One of the depu-
ties pulled Dean out of the car, slammed him on the ground, and handcuffed him. “I instantly knew what was going on,” Dean says. “They’re thinking my friend is a felon, and they are about to shoot us because they think he’s going to run.” Dean knew Brown had previous drug-related run-ins with law officers. According to a motion filed in November, deputies targeted Brown after he sold marijuana and cocaine to a confidential informant. Dean thinks the deputies looked at his car and the gold chain around his neck and fingered him as Brown’s supplier. The tension eased a bit after the deputies searched his car and found his military ID cards and the contractor ID from Afghanistan. They also found the two handguns Dean used for security and his concealed-carry permit. One element of the traffic stop was particularly painful for Dean. Once the white deputies realized he wasn’t a drug dealer, they backed off and told him they were just doing their job. Dean says supervising detective Casey Norwood, who is Black, acted as if he had hit the jackpot. “He told me I was the dumbest vet he knew to hang out with the dumbest drug dealer in town,” Dean says. While being questioned at the sheriff’s office, one of the deputies told Dean they had an arrest warrant for him if he didn’t say the guns found in his car belonged to Brown, according to the complaint. Norwood told Dean, “You’re not going no motherfucking where until you tell me what I want to know.” Counting on Dean to lay a false charge on Brown, “Norwood slid a piece of paper and pen” to Dean, according to the complaint. Dean told them that he couldn’t say weapons belonged to Brown and explained that he purchased the firearms, which were registered in his name, for his work as a security guard. Norwood and the detective left the room and never came back. Other officers uncuffed Dean from the table, handed him back his license, and told him he was free to go. Dean was unable to retrieve his firearms from the sheriff’s office for nearly a year. When Dean left the sheriff’s office that day, he went to the hospital for treatment of his injuries. The military vet’s encounter with the deputies happened more than four years ago, but for Dean—who always wanted to do things the right way—the pain endures. W
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