When police searched the home of Maricopa County Sheriff’s Deputy Ramon “Charley” Armendariz in May, they found a large stash of evidence that had never been checked in to the law enforcement agency, including drugs, fake IDs, the personal information of drivers with Hispanic names, license plates, credit cards, passports and 900 hours of videotaped traffic stops conducted by Armendariz himself.
The deputy was jailed on drug charges and agreed to wear an electronic monitor if he was released. But when Armendariz failed to pick up his monitor on May 8, police had no choice but to visit his home in Phoenix. What they found was 40-year-old Armendariz, dead from an apparent suicide.
Why the deputy killed himself remains a mystery. Based on the evidence found in his home, some believe it has to do with the racial profiling Armendariz engaged in as part of his work with the Maricopa County Sheriff’s office, run by the controversial Sheriff Joe Arpaio, who was found guilty of racially profiling Latino immigrants by the Justice Department last year.
“I don’t know what triggered him,” said Arpaio, on the death of Armendariz, which is why Arpaio has pledged to investigate the incident.
Groups such as the American Civil LIberties Union, which filed the racial profiling lawsuit against the department, are concerned about the department investigating the deputy’s death, since the native Spanish-speaker Armendariz was one of the deputies who engaged in racial profiling, according to a federal judge.
Armendariz was a member of Arpaio’s Human Smuggling Unit, a controversial patrol group that would target people in predominantly Latino neighborhoods. He also received training from U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement officials. Although he was of Latino descent and faced discrimination as a gay male, the Texas native didn’t seem to take issue with the racial profiling policies he engaged in under Arpaio’s direction.
Daniel Pochoda, legal director of the ACLU Foundation of Arizona, said Armendariz had a significant amount of evidence from people he stopped, which probably will strengthen the group’s case.
Arpaio’s lawyer has maintained that Armendariz was a rogue officer, pointing to Armendariz’s collection of evidence that dates back to 2007, when he first became a deputy, and his bizarre battle against imaginary intruders in his garage, whom he was firing a pepperball launcher at.
Although job evaluations of Armendariz obtained by The Associated Press through a public records request found the deputy had a problem with turning in reports for years, which consequently meant that those people he issued criminal citations to were never prosecuted, others suspect Armendariz may have been set up, possibly by his boss.
According to a May 29 report in the Phoenix New Times, Stephen Lemons reported that he learned from a source that Armendariz had approached an unnamed local activist who had contacts at the Justice Department, saying he wanted to share some information about his employer. Lemons reported that none of the local attorneys Armendariz approached agreed to take the case, citing various conflicts.
Armendariz’s death may have had nothing to do with his work, given that family members said he and his boyfriend were going through a rough patch in their relationship.
But some locals, including Armendariz’s neighbors, have told local media outlets they are having a hard time fathoming that the deputy could have engaged in such unlawful behavior, saying, “He had the biggest marshmallow heart in the world,” and, “The person who I saw and what I am reading is night and day.”