True Crime Memoir. Michigan’s First Licensed Dispensary Owner Survives:
- Raids. Task Forces. Federal Agents.
- MI Supreme Court. US Supreme Court.
- Police & Political Corruption. Prison.
What I had were breadcrumbs—backchannels, lawyers, FOIA returns, discovery evidence, conversations I wasn’t supposed to hear—and the breadcrumbs kept circling the same name: Operation Michigan Pot Shops, a federal task force green lit to stop the marijuana industry in Michigan even before it started. It sounded absurd—fake, even—but it kept showing up.
Chapter 18: Racism Meets Medical Marijuana
It wasn’t just one remark, or one bad slur. It was a tirade. A casual, open spillage of hatred from the mouth of the government sworn to serve and protect. The kind of language that would have made even Hillbilly Hitler flinch.
This wasn’t random prejudice. This was policy for departments north of 8 Mile Road, west of Telegraph Road and south of Outer Drive. Keeping the line of us and them. Black and white.
Chapter 25: I’m Going to Prison
The first night dragged on like it was daring me to break. If I’m being honest, it was the first time since that first raid almost fifteen years earlier that I actually felt safe—no glancing over my shoulder, no bracing for the sound of boots at the door, no wondering if the day would end in another smashed-in office or home.
There was a strange, unsettling calm to it. I stared up at the dimmed ceiling lights, counting sprinkler heads like they were stars, breathing in the stale cocktail of old socks and disinfectant.
