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Over that time, he took on a range of cases: a gas station robbery, a break-in at the Goodwill, a local pedophile.
Murder was rare, and so it always garnered extensive coverage.
I never found the paperwork from the many times my mother filed for divorce.
But in the closet I found a Tupperware bowl, lidded, its inside coated in ashy residue, pungent and sweet.
Thursday after executing a search warrant at his Waco home.
They found 27 marijuana plants growing in one bedroom and five growing inside a closet, according to his arrest citation.
* Five years ago, the day after my father was arrested for growing thirty-two marijuana plants, he left me a voicemail.
My childhood nights were punctuated by a phone ringing for my father, a detective.
When someone finally noticed my hands pressed against the window and let me out, I would find my father kneeling over a crime scene, making notes or taking photos.
“Go to sleep, baby,” he always said, and I did, because I knew I was safe so long as I was with him. A latchkey kid from the age of seven, I regularly used my time alone at home to search the drawer where my father kept rare coins, the locked metal box my mother kept hidden, the top shelf of my parents’ closet.
News of his arrest took three days to travel from his trailer in Waco, Kentucky, to the front page of my hometown newspaper in Frankfort, Kentucky.
The headline of Detectives with [Kentucky State Police]’s Cannabis Suppression Branch arrested Jack Hazelwood, 55, around 2 p.m.