#Alaska trooper dis windows#

#Alaska trooper dis windows#

Leaving the Wasilla city police headquarters behind, he soon entered Palmer and passed a second city police department equipped to respond to such emergencies, the red and blue flashers of his patrol car reflecting in windows like Christmas lights.īecause this emergency fell outside of Palmer city limits, it too was considered a job for troopers, not city police. (Marc Lester / ADN)Īnderson punched the address into his screen, hit his siren and gunned the engine.

A house sitter in the Butte had just pulled a gun on a trespasser who was now on his knees, hollering for help.Īlaska State Trooper Ryan Anderson patrols near Palmer on November 18, 2019.

As he steered past the parked RVs and snowmachine trailers, his radio chirped with new urgency. The trooper never made it to the scene to hear the wife’s side of the story. One of just 304 members of the elite, state-paid police force responsible for protecting all of Alaska, including remote towns and villages, Anderson motored 2 miles outside city limits to a subdivision of $400,000 houses. Instead, Alaska State Trooper Ryan Anderson hopped in his Ford Explorer. Maybe an officer could go talk to her? A routine request on a routine night here at Wasilla Police Department headquarters.īut it wasn’t a city cop, paid by local sales taxes, who took the call. Nothing violent, he said, but she threatened to carve a word in the paint of his luxury pickup: CHEATER. WASILLA - The man appeared around dinnertime in the parking lot of the city police department, asking to see a cop. This article was produced in partnership with ProPublica as part of the ProPublica Local Reporting Network and is part of a continuing series, Lawless: Sexual violence in Alaska.Īlaska State Troopers Quinn Nardini, left, and Ryan Anderson talk on Bodenburg Loop, a street in Butte, while looking for a man who had created a disturbance at a nearby store on November 18, 2019. Updated: DecemPublished: December 5, 2019