26 years on the smoky trail

Lt. Robert Sullivan retires after decades of busting crack, pot and meth dealers.

By MOLLY MOORHEAD, Times Staff Writer
Published December 13, 2007

Lt. Robert Sullivan clears his accumulated Sheriff's Office paraphernalia from his car as inventory coordinator Robert Gilbert loads it on a cart. Sullivan retired Friday after 26 years with the agency. He still remembers walking into a smoke-filled room on his first day, Feb. 1, 1982.
	[David Degner | Times]

Bobby Sullivan drove an old Monte Carlo south through the darkness on U.S. 301, a crack dealer at his side.

It was 1985, and the rookie vice cop was close to a big score.

He started to feel uneasy when the man at his side lifted the armrest between them and slid across the bench seat. Sullivan was wondering how close his gun was when he saw a metallic flash and felt the man grab his hair.

He wasn't being led to a drug buy. He was being robbed.

Sullivan struggled as the man tried to jab at his neck with a box cutter. A confidential informant who was riding in the backseat grabbed a pipe and beat the man unconscious.

Sullivan handcuffed him, then found a pay phone to call for help.

"This was back before we had these silly little things called backups and cover teams," Sullivan said last week. "We just went out and bought dope."

More about that scene from two decades ago has changed than Sullivan's personal style - he wore his hair to his collar and a hoop earring as part of his cover.

"We hung out in bars and drank and tried to score bags of pot," he said of those early days.

"It's nothing like that today."

For one thing, no booze. Instead, detectives know how to just appear to be drinking.

They learn everything they can about a target before making a move. If Sullivan had done a thorough background check on the man in the Monte Carlo, he'd have found a long history of armed robberies - and he'd have never gotten in a car with him.

Today, the work is done with cell phones, hidden wires and backup teams. No more pay phones or solo missions.

And the big score?

In 1985, it was a gram of crack, an amount equivalent in size to three pencil erasers.

Said Sullivan: "Our guys now are buying slabs of crack that look like pancakes."

A growing problem

Sullivan, 46, retired Friday after 26 years with the Sheriff's Office, most of that time fighting drug dealers, strippers and gamblers.

He was part of the first Pasco arrest for methamphetamine. Now, toxic meth labs turn up in neighborhoods from east to west.

He remembers the first bulletin from the Florida Department of Law Enforcement depicting a picture of a crack rock.

In 1987, he was part of the biggest cocaine bust in county history, and since then has repeated the feat no fewer than five times, for crack, for pot, for ecstasy.

Always, the quantity and the dollar value grew bigger.

"It's just a societal problem that law enforcement is trying to deal with," he said about illegal drugs. "As long as there's a demand, there's going to be a supply."

In 1989, after Sullivan and other detectives chased him for six months, they arrested the king of the east Pasco crack trade, James "Bush" Wimbush. They said he supplied 85 percent of the drug in the area, to the tune of $30,000 a week.

It was a major arrest, but a short-lived victory. The crack supply, Sullivan said, fell off for four days before rebounding.

"We mark our successes a couple days at a time," he said.

What kept him going, Sullivan said, was the teaching aspect.

Cops who go undercover have to unlearn the militaristic, jargon-heavy ways of police training. Sullivan teaches them to say "license plate" instead of "tag," and not always sit facing the exit of a room.

Streetwise dealers pick up on such subtleties as common habits of cops.

Before the days of perforated coffee cup lids, Sullivan once blew a deal in a McDonald's by meticulously peeling the plastic off his cup to make an opening. The dealer got up and walked out.

Sullivan later learned why from an informant: "He said, 'That thing you just did with your cup - cops do that.'"

Of course, Sullivan said, not all pushers are so astute.

"They'll sell to you in a uniform."

The teaching life

Sullivan plans to continue teaching. He is already an adjunct professor at the University of North Florida and Pasco-Hernando Community College, leading courses in undercover techniques, community policing and narcotics.

"I really like to see it (retirement) as I'm just shifting gears a little bit," said Sullivan, who lives in Brooksville with his wife, Bonnie, and their two daughters, 5 and 13.

But before he could leave the cop's life behind last week, he had to hand over all his stuff - 26 years' worth.

Two tape recorders. One 35mm camera. Handcuffs. Two bulletproof vests. A biohazard kit.

A couple of things he got to keep, like his black deputy's hat and his gun, a privilege for 25-year veterans.

Reluctantly, he handed over the dark green pants and lime green shirt he was issued for his first day of work, Feb. 1, 1982.

That was my goal - when I retired I wanted to be wearing the same size pants I started in," he said.

And?

"Yep. Thirty-ones."

Molly Moorhead can be reached at moorhead@sptimes.com or (727) 869-6245.

BIO

The Sullivan File

First day of work: Feb. 1, 1982.

In 1987, he was part of the biggest cocaine bust in county history, and since then has repeated the feat no fewer than five times, for crack, for pot, for ecstasy.

In 1989, after Sullivan and other detectives chased him for six months, they arrested the king of the east Pasco crack trade, James "Bush" Wimbush. They said he supplied 85 percent of the drug in the area, to the tune of $30,000 a week.

26 years' worth of items he turned in: Two tape recorders. One 35mm camera. Handcuffs. Two bulletproof vests. A biohazard kit.

[Last modified December 12, 2007, 19:59:01]