
Crocodile relocation sparks spirited debate in Miami-Dade neighborhood, residents say
Residents of Highland Oaks Park in northern Miami-Dade shared a lake at the center of their park and the surrounding area for years with two American crocodiles — long thought to be a mated pair. On Monday, authorities hauled one of the scaly reptiles away after it got a bit too close to nearby homes.
During the morning hours, one of the two crocodiles, a female, wandered toward a resident's doorstep for the second time in recent weeks. Local authorities were called and a trapper with the Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission drove over to collect her.
The crocodile had its legs and mouth zip-tied, blood taken, tagged and then placed in the back of a pick-up truck as Miami-Dade Sheriff's Office deputies and residents watched nearby. The wildlife agent told the Miami Herald that the crocodile would be relocated away from people.
In recent months, two crocodiles strayed from their man-made lake home, where they often sunbathed, to the front lawns of some neighboring homes, residents said.
According to neighbors, the animals have caused controversy between residents who consider them a threat to pets and children and those who believe the animals should be left alone as they're protected under the Federal Endangered Species Act.
On the NextDoor app, neighbors were blaming gates on the canals as a reason for the crocodiles moving into neighborhoods.
As some argued over how to handle the problem of 'ambush predators,' others contended humans need to do more for reptiles just trying to find a place to live.
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Hamilton Spectator
33 minutes ago
- Hamilton Spectator
Marines temporarily detain man while guarding LA federal building
LOS ANGELES (AP) — Shortly after they began guarding a Los Angeles federal building Friday, U.S. Marines detained a man who had walked onto the property and did not immediately hear their commands to stop. The brief detention marked the first time federal troops have detained a civilian since they were deployed to the nation's second-largest city by President Donald Trump in response to protests over the administration's immigration arrests. The Marines were activated earlier this week but began their duties Friday. The man, Marcos Leao, was later released without charges and said the Marines were just doing their jobs. A U.S. Army North spokesperson said the troops have the authority to temporarily detain people under specific circumstances. He said those detentions end when the person can be transferred to 'appropriate civilian law enforcement personnel.' Leao's detention shows how the troops' deployment is putting them closer to carrying out law enforcement actions. Already, National Guard soldiers have been providing security on raids as Trump has promised as part of his immigration crackdown . Leao, a former Army combat engineer, said he was rushing to get to a Veterans Affairs appointment when he stepped past a piece of caution tape outside the federal building. He looked up to find a Marine sprinting toward him. 'I had my headphones in, so I didn't hear them,' Leao said. 'They told me to get down on the ground. I basically complied with everything they were saying.' Leao was placed in zip ties and held for more than two hours by the Marines and members of the National Guard, he said. After Los Angeles police arrived, he was released without charges, he said. The Los Angeles Police Department did not immediately respond to a request for comment. 'I didn't know it was going to be this intense here,' he said later. A U.S. official told the AP that a civilian had stepped over the line. He was warned they would take him down and they did, according to the official, who requested anonymity because they were not authorized to discuss the matter. About 200 Marines out of the 700 deployed arrived in the city Friday, joining 2,000 members of the National Guard that have been stationed outside federal buildings this week in Los Angeles. Another 2,000 Guard members were notified of deployment earlier this week. Before the unusual deployment, the Pentagon scrambled to establish rules to guide U.S. Marines who could be faced with the rare and difficult prospect of using force against citizens on American soil. The forces have been trained in de-escalation, crowd control and standing rules for the use of force, the military has said. But the use of the active-duty forces still raises difficult questions. 'I believe that this is an inevitable precursor of things yet to come when you put troops with guns right next to civilians who are doing whatever they do,' said Gary Solis, a former Marine Corps. prosecutor and military judge. He said it's an example of Trump's attempt to unravel the Posse Comitatus Act, which bars active-duty forces from conducting law enforcement. ___ Watson reported from San Diego and Baldor from Washington. Error! Sorry, there was an error processing your request. There was a problem with the recaptcha. Please try again. You may unsubscribe at any time. By signing up, you agree to our terms of use and privacy policy . This site is protected by reCAPTCHA and the Google privacy policy and terms of service apply. Want more of the latest from us? Sign up for more at our newsletter page .

Yahoo
an hour ago
- Yahoo
Did he or didn't he? History wrestles with legend of Jesse James' jump over Devil's Gulch
Jun. 13—GARRETSON, S.D. — In 1876, legendary outlaw Jesse James and his brother Frank were on the run after committing a bank robbery in Northfield, Minnesota. Chased by a posse, the two Missouri natives raced west, managing to stay ahead of their pursuers. Eventually, they crossed into what was then Dakota Territory. What exactly happened next has long been open to speculation. But local myth holds that Jesse James, moving as fast as he could on horseback, managed to make a leap of roughly 18 feet over Devil's Gulch in Garretson, leaving the justice-seeking posse behind and allowing him to escape capture. Now, nearly 150 years later, the picturesque quartzite rock canyon, nestled in a nook in Garretson and boasting remarkable scenic beauty, still attracts visitors to take in the view and ponder whether the American legend actually managed to make it across the gap. An annual summer festival in town is even named after him. For Wayne Fanebust, a Sioux Falls-based historian and author of several non-fiction books including Chasing Frank and Jesse James: The Bungled Northfield Bank Robbery and the Long Manhunt, the answer to the question of did Jesse James jump Devil's Gulch is fairly clear. "I'm saying it did not happen," Fanebust told the Mitchell Republic in a recent interview. "I know, I'm a myth buster." Fanebust calls Jesse James' alleged leap of Devil's Gulch one of his favorite topics. As a historian who has researched the Wild West age of 19th century United States and penned historical books on the Civil War and turn-of-the-century true crime incidents, he has vast experience in digging into topics where the facts have become hazy with the passage of time. The Devil's Gulch jump is one such case where the facts are hard to come by, but there are some aspects about what led up to the alleged jump that is known. Jesse James and his brother, Frank, along with six other members of their gang, attempted a bank robbery in Northfield, Minnesota on Sept. 7, 1876. It was a messy affair, with four men killed during the ensuing gun battle, including two members of the gang. It was a lot of blood spilled for a total take of about $25 in nickels. Now on the run, the group split up a few days later but still managed to evade capture. Trying to make their way back to their home state of Missouri, the brothers made stops near Luverne, Minnesota on Sept. 17 of that year and entered what was then Dakota Territory about five miles north of Valley Springs later that evening, a timeline that suggests the James brothers were never near Devil's Gulch. "It's known they were 12 miles north of present-day Luverne in the evening. They were in Dakota Territory, (but) in all likelihood they traveled as fast and steadily as they could over that ground, and they would have missed it altogether," Fanebust said. The Devils Gulch gap today measures about 18 feet across and rises about 30 feet above the creek bed below. The lead up to the eastern edge of the gap is rugged and uneven, with dense trees obstructing any clear path where James could have spurred his horse on to a full gallop. Though it is assumed by many that a well-rested horse could clear such a gap, the short approach of the chasm calls into doubt just how much momentum could be carried into the jump. The legend also tends to overlook the details of Frank James. He is not mentioned jumping the gulch along with his brother, leading Fanebust to wonder why Frank James didn't get the same credit his more famous sibling did. Fanebust, who researched the event in countless pages of newspapers, books and libraries, said the legend began in the 1920s, when an area newspaper gave an account of an unnamed individual who "showed us the place where Jesse James jumped the channel riding horseback." A year or so later, more articles on the legend followed, and that summer, a W.W. Sanders invited a group of area newspaper men to the site for a tour where he repeated the claim. The story eventually gained more and more fame, to the point that it's still referred to in 2025. Fanebust said the legend, though almost certainly untrue, could have grown out of a true story where Jesse James or both brothers did leap across a creek or similar landmark on horseback during their escape. Over the years, the story grew, the gap became wider and the plunge to the bottom of the canyon deeper, with resident fans of local lore eventually settling on the picturesque setting of Devil's Gulch as the location where the myth took place. There's no solid evidence that it occurred, Fanebust said. But the spectacular mental image of a man on horseback making such a jump in a scenic area — something straight out of a western movie — makes for an enticing story. "Somehow it got built up into this legendary, impossible, leap across Devil's Gulch," Fanebust said. "It's probably nothing that we will ever be able to prove or disprove." The ambiguous nature of the legend hasn't stopped Garretson from embracing the story. Residents still celebrate the notion that maybe, just maybe, James did make the jump with the annual Jesse James Days event, which was held this year on Friday and Saturday, June 13 and 14. The two-day event features street dances, car shows and other entertainment that helps promote the Minnehaha County community of 1,175 people. Carrie Moritz, who co-owns the Garretson Gazette newspaper along with her husband Garrick and also serves as president of the Garretson Commercial Club, which organizes Jesse James Days, said residents look at the legend with a bit of a wink and a nod. Folks know the story is unlikely to be true, at least as it's told today, but that doesn't mean that it isn't fun to talk about. But there are a few facets of local lore that do add some credence to the tale. "Maybe it's just a tall tale that got told," Moritz said. "But we do have documentation from local farmsteads that Jesse stayed at their place. Or that he stole a horse from their farmstead, or what have you. So there is known evidence that he and his brother were around here. But as for outrunning the posse and jumping the gulch? Who knows." There are other angles that could support the theory. Moritz noted that over the course of 150 years the landscape of the gulch has changed. Erosion has likely widened the gap to its present width, meaning that if James did jump the gulch all those years ago, it was likely not as wide a jump as it appears today. She also said the land where Devil's Gulch rests, which is owned by the Wiese family and leased to the city for public use, was not always densely packed with trees. The trees that add so much to the beauty of the area were planted by the family sometime in the mid-20th century. This means James' jump may have been both much shorter and had a much smoother leadup to the jump than is there today. "It looks like old-growth forest, but it's not," Moritz said. As for where Frank was during Jesse's legendary jump? Moritz said it has been posited that Jesse temporarily stashed his brother in a cave a ways up north on Split Rock Creek and then went on a ride to distract the posse from their underground hideout, which would explain Frank's absence from the legend. That cave is now collapsed, Moritz said, but it was a popular spot for adventurous kids to explore in the 1950s. Whether or not James successfully jumped Devil's Gulch — or another anonymous span of creek somewhere miles away — Jesse and Frank James did eventually make their way back to Missouri without being cornered by the posse. Jesse James was eventually killed by Robert Ford in 1882, and Frank James surrendered to authorities shortly after. He lived a quieter life after his brother's death, leaving the criminal world and working a variety of odd jobs. He died in 1915. But their legacy as old West outlaws lives on, particularly in places like Garretson, where visitors come by the thousands for Jesse James Days in the summer. Moritz said the celebration is a fun time that promotes the community, offers a wide range of activities and entertainment and brings all-important dollars into the local economy. "It does make a huge financial impact, and that's part of the reason it's put on by the Garretson Commercial Club," Moritz said. "That's how you get tourism money, and that's always the goal — to get people to come to town, enjoy the atmosphere we've got around here and just realize that we've got a great little town here." Whether his infamous jump over Devil's Gulch actually occurred continues to be debated. Fanebust said the uncertainty of exactly what happened is part of the appeal of the story, and the myth is not likely to die out. The story serves to spur interest among the public on the Wild West and its expansive mythology, and he said interest in the topic can lead to the study of other historical stories that are just as interesting but can also be proven to be true. Believing the Devil's Gulch legend may require a leap of faith, but Fanebust said the event will likely continue on long into the future. And there's nothing wrong with that, he said. "It is a legend with a long life, and it is an integral part of the story of the great escape by the James brothers," Fanebust wrote in a summary of the events. "There is no point in trying to drive a stake through it, because it can't be killed. Somewhere out there someone might find an answer, a rational explanation for an issue that seems to be pleading for closure. But then again, maybe not. Maybe, just maybe, the romance of history has a legitimate place in this outlaw narrative alongside plain, dull facts."

Yahoo
an hour ago
- Yahoo
Editorial: The sad application of justice in the Michael Madigan saga
In the end, U.S. District Judge John Robert Blakey chose to send a stern message with his 7.5-year prison sentence of Michael J. Madigan, former speaker of the Illinois House of Representatives. Madigan — for decades the most powerful politician in Illinois, the state that gave this nation its greatest president — will have to spend more than six years of that term at a minimum under federal rules, even assuming good behavior. The former Illinois House speaker is 83, so the likelihood of his dying while in confinement is considerable. A human tragedy is self-evident. But that doesn't make Blakey's sentence unjust. Madigan admitted no wrongdoing in his own short statement before the judge handed down the sentence. The closest he came was saying, 'I'm not perfect.' We wonder whether there was a legal strategy behind such obstinance given near-certain appeals of the verdict as to how federal law was applied to Madigan's conduct. A tactical reasoning may have been behind Madigan's rejection of the courtroom contrition that might otherwise have trimmed his sentence. We'll find out in due course. Speaking of the 16th president of the United States, Blakey referenced Abraham Lincoln before he sentenced Madigan: 'It's really hard to be Honest Abe right? He's a unicorn in our American history. Being great is hard. But being honest is not. Being honest is actually very easy. It's hard to commit crimes.' And the evidence showed that Madigan did indeed work hard in hatching and executing the schemes that a jury of Madigan's peers concluded were felonies. The justice behind this sentence reflects how Madigan ran this state for so long, his unprincipled grip on power, and the price we all will pay for many years to come for the financial malpractice he left in his expansive wake. The former House speaker was convicted on multiple corruption-related counts based mainly on his brazenly corrupt dealings with Commonwealth Edison in the 2010s, but there's little doubt the modus operandi he used to help ComEd and parent Exelon rake in billions from ratepayers was in place for far longer than the eight years on which federal prosecutors focused. Those eight years were just the period wherein the FBI and the U.S. attorney's office pressured former Ald. Danny Solis to wear a wire and capture damning interactions with Madigan (and powerhouse Ald. Edward Burke, who is serving time as we write) and tapped the cellphone of Madigan confidant and right-hand man Michael McClain, for years ComEd's lead outside lobbyist. Even people inside ComEd would refer to McClain as a 'double agent,' serving Madigan as much or more than the company that was paying him. McClain was caught on wiretaps saying that Madigan was his one, true client. The corruption caught on those intercepted calls and in a few videos taken by cooperating co-conspirators was just as ugly as those who battled Madigan politically (and usually lost) and those who criticized his stranglehold on state government (such as this page) always had imagined it would be. The plotting. The fixation on rewarding political soldiers with no-work arrangements. The frequent demands on a compromised and beholden company to perform the patronage function local government used to provide before courts put the kibosh on the practice. The public was made privy to all. And who paid to keep the Madigan machine running? Anyone paying taxes. Anyone paying an electric bill. That is, just about everyone in this state. Judge Blakey's agreement with prosecutors that Madigan lied when he took the witness stand in his own defense suggested there would be no mercy forthcoming. Blakey even went so far as to call Madigan's lies 'a nauseating display.' We marveled in January, witnessing Madigan's testimony, how he depicted McClain as just one friend among a sizable coterie of loyalists when anyone who'd sat through Madigan's trial (and the 2023 'ComEd Four' trial in which McClain was convicted) knew full well that McClain and Madigan were extremely close. Madigan had a strategic reason to distance himself from his supremely loyal friend, who evidence showed acted as Madigan's agent in his dealings with ComEd and others in Springfield, even the Democratic lawmakers who typically followed Madigan's orders. Once he was convicted, Madigan's betrayal of McClain served to exacerbate his crimes in the judge's eyes. After a jury convicted Madigan in February on 10 of 23 counts (on the remainder he was acquitted or jurors couldn't agree), we held out hope that the former speaker's downfall would spell the end of corruption on the scale that he practiced in Illinois. We still hold fast to that hope and belief, while of course acknowledging that graft and corruption, albeit on a less ambitious scale always will be a part of our politics and governance as long as human nature exists. But this prison sentence should serve as a clear deterrent for any future political Svengali wanting to follow in Madigan's footsteps. Michael J. Madigan had myriad political skills, as a parade of governors whom he watched come and go all would attest. To the very end, Madigan ran the playbook of his mentor, Mayor Richard J. Daley, written in an era when the Democratic machine was the accepted way of political life in Chicago and Illinois. We feel sorry for Madigan and his family. But we applaud this firm and final repudiation of the 'Velvet Hammer's' brand of politics. Submit a letter, of no more than 400 words, to the editor here or email letters@