Curtis J. Carley was employed by the U. S. Fish and Wildlife Service, working out of its office in Albuquerque, New Mexico. On January 22, 1994, Carley was in the "Big Bend" area of the Rio Grande River in Brewster County, Texas, conducting a "National Wetlands Inventory," which meant he had to view streams to determine whether they should be included in the inventory.
Carley relied for navigation in part on the 1990 edition of "County Maps of Texas" prepared by the Texas Department of Highways. (Remember the days when people actually used paper maps to find their way around?) The map -- an official state publication -- showed that the road Carley planned to use was a public, not a private, road. Carley drove along until he found the stream. Then he turned down what the map said was another public road to get another view of the stream.
Eventually, Carley came to what appeared to be the headquarters of a private ranch. He was about to turn around when he was hailed by a ranch employee, who told Carley he was on a private road. Carley explained why he was there and showed the man the State Highway Map.
The rancher told him the map was wrong and that the road would become too rough for Carley's vehicle, a minivan. The rancher added that the next rancher to the north would shoot anyone he found trespassing.
Well, this was Texas, after all.
Carley apologized and headed back the way he had come. Other than filing his report, he probably thought little about the incident until the following March when he was charged with criminal trespass by Brewster County, Texas.
This set the stage for a classic "turf battle" because, while Carley might technically have committed a trespass, he had done so while working for U.S. government. So, shortly thereafter, the U.S. Attorney had the case "removed" to federal court. This meant that federal Judge W. Royal Furgeson would have to decide whether the criminal charges should be dismissed because Carley was, in effect, being prosecuted for performing federal duties.
The U.S. Attorney presented testimony from Carley setting forth his account; affidavits from two of his supervisors confirming that he had been working on federal business; and a copy of the State Highway Map. In response, the prosecutor called a former judge of Brewster County, who testified that the roads running through the ranch were private roads, although he agreed the State's map was incorrect.
Judge Furgeson relied on well-established law -- namely, an 1867 U.S. Supreme Court decision holding that someone performing lawful federal duties cannot be prosecuted for committing a trespass. The ranch's owner could, perhaps, sue the government for damages, but Carley was off the hook.
That should have been the end of the case, but Judge Furgeson was still troubled. The prosecutor insisted that her office would continue criminal prosecution of any federal officials traveling in Carley's steps, so to speak -- even Judge Furgeson, if he ventured onto one of Brewster County's less traveled roads.
Furgeson was disturbed that, in the 1990s, a local official would threaten to keep interfering with federal law enforcement. He concluded, however, that she must have spoken in the heat of the moment and would not violate her oath to uphold the U.S. Constitution.
He also commented on the threat the rancher had conveyed to Carley, that his neighboring rancher would shoot any trespassers -- and this is where, for a moment, the opinion strayed into the Twilight Zone.
Or rather, "The Twilight Adventure."
After opining that, "travelers have every right to rely on official state maps to guide their journeys," Furgeson helpfully quotes from Uncle Abner, Master of Mysteries: The Twilight Adventure, which was one volume of a boy's adventure series written in 1962 by Meville Davisson Post. Furgeson must have been a fan -- how else would he have known where to find that tidbit?
In the incident from the book (the beginning of chapter 7 just in case you want to check it out), our hero Uncle Abner and the narrator -- his niece or nephew, naturally -- are riding horses through the Virginia countryside when they come to a crossroads guarded by a man on horseback wielding a rifle. Although the armed man threatens them unless they "ride on," Uncle Abner calmly confronts the armed man, rebuking him for trying to control public roadways, and then proceeds the way he had intended.
This is undoubtedly the only judicial opinion to cite Uncle Abner, Master of Mysteries: The Twilight Adventure as legal authority.
And the Uncle Abner series is still in print. Why, it's even available in a Kindle edition.
Frank Zotter, Jr. is a Ukiah attorney.
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