Macadam Mason was asking for help on June 20, 2012 — the day he was killed.
The Thetford man called nearby Dartmouth-Hitchcock Medical Center and spoke to the health care staff there, threatening to “hurt himself or others.” Vermont State Police dispatched to his home were told about his disability, according to the state’s attorney general. A car accident years prior had left Mason, 39, with a seizure disorder. He’d had a seizure just the day before, according to his partner, Theresa Davidonis.
Officers lingered on the property for at least 15 minutes trying to convince Mason to go to the hospital. Davidonis warned them that their presence would only aggravate his mental state.
Then another officer came to the scene: David Shaffer, a 29-year-old trooper, who later said he was not aware of Mason’s seizure disorder. Shaffer found Mason while patrolling the perimeter and ordered him to the ground. Mason sat, but Shaffer edged toward him.
Shaffer pulled out his Taser as Mason shouted at Shaffer to shoot him. State police say that Mason stood and lunged toward Shaffer with a fist, so Shaffer fired his Taser, sending 50,000 volts of electricity through his chest and killing him.
In the eight years since Mason’s death, 13 more people have died in shootings or other fatal use of force incidents — more than twice the number in the eight years prior.
The latest fatal police shooting — the death of Chris Louras in Rutland in October — rounded out the deadliest year in Vermont history for police killings. It was also the deadliest decade: 17 people died at the hands of police in the 2010s, a drastic increase from previous decades, even though the overall population has remained static.
Lawmakers, advocates and law enforcement are looking at how to curb the trend of rising deaths. Many say the problems go beyond one individual officer or department: they arise from a system that has forced Vermonters with mental health and other disabilities into close contact with officers who aren’t prepared to handle them, rather than trained professionals who could help them.
Others argue that the system for investigating fatal encounters in Vermont has loopholes that prevent the government from holding officers fully accountable to the latest training standards.
The data underscores the question at the heart of their argument, said former ACLU director Allen Gilbert: “Why are we shooting and killing more people in Vermont?”
Tracking police use of force
Gilbert, who is now retired, started collecting a list of police killings in 2014 when he looked at older cases from the Attorney General’s Office and realized there was no single source of government data on all police killings in Vermont.
“I said, ‘somebody has to make sure a database is kept,’” he said. “And I said that thinking, how could the state, or a news agency, or a church group, or somebody not start keeping a database, right? And I should have realized that, you know, maybe it falls to citizens.”
Gilbert provided that data to VTDigger for a first-ever glimpse at 50 years of fatal force incidents after watching a dramatic increase in police-involved deaths in the past year.
[See the full database, and learn more about our methodology.]
“When I saw what was happening in 2019, I said, ‘holy cow, this is the most deadly year in the most deadly decade in 50 years I’ve been keeping a record of this in Vermont,’” he said.
‘Justified.’ ‘Justified.’ ‘Justified.’
The officer who fired his Taser at Mason said he believed Mason was going to assault him. Other eyewitnesses interpreted Mason’s actions differently, and didn’t believe he was a threat to Shaffer. But the death of an unarmed man whose disability led to his death caused an outcry — and led many to question then-Attorney General William Sorrell’s decision to clear Shaffer of wrongdoing.
Whatever the facts of the case, every police-involved death since 1974 shares one characteristic: The officers were cleared of wrongdoing by the Attorney General’s Office.
Attorney General TJ Donovan has ruled on several of those cases, both in his current role and his prior one as Chittenden County state’s attorney. He said he has visited the families of the dead, telling them his decision before he announced it to the public. “Those are the stories that are on [his] mind” when he announces his decision, he said.
But whatever his personal feelings about a case, Donovan said, the standard, based on federal case law, is clear. He must look at the last few moments before the fatal force was used and ask, would a reasonable person be afraid for their life in that situation?
Donovan thinks that standard is too reductive for these “dynamic” situations, and is asking lawmakers to consider changes. He wants to be able to look at the full facts of the cases that come to his desk and take into account how police acted throughout the entire encounter.
He gave the example of Phil Grenon, a 76-year-old man with schizophrenia. Facing eviction in 2016, Grenon had locked himself in his apartment when officers charged in, leading to a long standoff. Grenon eventually charged officers with a knife and was Tasered, then shot.
“When you ask, were they at risk of death or serious bodily injury, well he was coming at you with a knife, so yes,” Donovan said. “But should police even go in? We need to challenge the conventional wisdom.”
ACLU-VT director James Duff Lyall said the lack of accountability in Vermont’s low standard is part of the problem of rising deaths.
“It sends an important message: If it’s a close call, the law is on their side, so they use fatal force rather than other options,” he said.
Some state policies regarding police use of force have changed in recent years.
Mason’s mother, Rhonda Taylor, found comfort after her son’s death by fighting for justice for other victims of police Taser use. She testified to the Legislature about the misuse of Tasers on those with disabilities and fought for a bill that would require officers to track and limit their Taser use. That bill, H.225, passed in 2014. The government also settled a lawsuit with Mason’s estate for $100,000, according to Taylor’s attorney Robert Appel.
Taylor recounted how Mason struggled with drug abuse for most of his life, but had been clean in the months before his death and planned to see his son for the first time in a long time.
“We had made plans for the Fourth of July, and he’d finished the call saying, ‘Mom, my brakes aren’t very good,’ and hung up,” she said. “And then I called back out of nowhere and just said, ‘You know how much I love you, right?’ and he laughed and said ‘yeah.’ That was the last time I spoke to him.”
Rep. Anne Donahue, R-Northfield, introduced legislation this year, H.808, that would change the way that we evaluate police deaths in Vermont. The bill would justify fatal force only if it’s “necessary,” and the threat is “imminent.”
“We should have a uniform statewide policy on the use of deadly force,” she said. “And the irony of course is that we have one on Tasers, but we don’t have one on the use of deadly force.”
She based her legislation on California’s new standard on deadly force that also limits its use to when it’s necessary.
“If you are talking about the split instance in time, the moment in time at which police officers use deadly force, it’s virtually always going to be justified,” Donahue said. “But the real question is, in the fairly close to point in time, what was going on? And was what was going on, something that could have and should have been able to result in avoiding the use of deadly force?”
Law enforcement has expressed reservations about the legislation. At a hearing on the bill, state Public Safety Commissioner Michael Schirling said California was the only state that has created a policy different than the basic standard set by the Constitution, and he pointed out that standard is relatively new.
“Let’s hold fast and see what happens in California, because they have completely broken the glass on 50 years of case law relative to this topic, and we don’t know what’s going to happen,” Schirling, a former Burlington police chief, told lawmakers. “So let’s see.”
Mark Hughes, executive director of the racial justice group Justice for All, doesn’t believe oversight of police shootings should rest with the attorney general.
“The attorney general is the biggest law enforcement officer in the state,” he said. “We have this dichotomous response: He’s there as the defender of state civil liberties, but he’s also there to protect cops.”
The profession of policing is at a tipping point, Hughes said. Police departments are struggling to recruit members, and are contending with a high suicide rate and a “warrior mentality.”
“The profession is ugly,” he said. “It eats its children.”
Hughes is a member of the Burlington Police Commission, which reviews citizen complaints and personnel matters, and he said civilian oversight is critical to changing the accountability conversation.
He pointed to the Vermont Constitution as justification: Article 5 gives lawmakers the power to oversee law enforcement, while Article 6 states that the public has power over lawmakers.
“We are not holding lawmakers accountable for this,” he said.
Crisis in the mental health system
As police deaths have risen, another cause of death has risen in Vermont over the past decade: People taking their own lives. More than 110 people died by suicide in the state in 2017, the most recent year available, at a rate 25% higher than the national average.
Vermonters are also often forced to seek emergency treatment in a mental health crisis because of the low number of private providers and the lack of urgent care options, said Donahue, herself a psychiatric crisis survivor.
“Ultimately you may end up feeling, the only way I can get help is by going to the emergency room,” she said.
If you need help, the National Suicide Hotline is available 24 hours a day at 800-273-8255 and the Vermont Crisis Text Line is available at 741741. You can also find local organizations in your area here.
But once there, patients may find it difficult to get appropriate care. A 2019 report showed that an average mental health patient admitted to the emergency room had to wait a full day to be admitted to a psychiatric unit or be discharged. The University of Vermont Health Network is adding 25 mental health treatment beds because of a statewide shortage.
A 2018 VTDigger investigation found that mental health hospitals across the state have been cited for mistreatment and neglect, including improperly restraining patients and calling in police to force residents to take their medication.
Mental health stays are also growing longer. Once admitted, some have trouble getting out because they have no home to go to or can’t find a residential facility that will take them, Donahue said.
In short, Vermont’s mental health system is in crisis. And police officers say they are often on the front lines, responding when someone is in distress for any number of reasons: a mental illness, a behavioral disability, or an addiction, for example.
It can be difficult to pinpoint exactly how many people in crisis are interacting with the police. The Department of Mental Health and the Vermont State Police could not provide data on how often police interact with people with disabilities.
Gilbert said his research showed between four and six of the 17 cases in the past decade involved a subject who had a mental or physical health condition. Six had drugs in their systems at the time of their deaths.
In Montpelier, Chief Tony Facos said when dispatch gets a call for a person in crisis, officers start asking questions: Do we have a history with this person? Do we know what could help them? And most importantly, who do we have right now to meet them?
“So for what resources do you have available, it was different at 3 o’clock in the morning versus right now at 11 o’clock in the morning,” he said.
In an ideal world, they’ll have a mental health screener from Washington County Mental Health Services to meet the person in crisis almost as soon as officers show up, Facos said.
“Most of these calls, they need a social worker. They don’t need a police officer,” he said.
But with resources strained across the county, sometimes police are stuck without backup from mental health professionals and have to convince the subject to come to the emergency department to get screened, Facos said. Montpelier and Barre are asking the Legislature to fund a full-time embedded social worker that would spend 20 hours a week with each department, riding along on calls and coordinating care.
The stakes are high for Montpelier if the past two years are any indication. Facos’ department had its first-ever fatal police encounter in 2018, then another one 20 months later. In the first, police shot Nathan Giffin, 32, after an alleged bank robbery led to a hour-long standoff on high school grounds.
In the second, Mark Johnson was killed in a standoff in the early hours of Aug. 9. Facos said officers had encountered Johnson in the past for mental health-related reasons, and friends of the 62-year-old Montpelier native said he appeared to have a mental health condition, although no diagnosis has been officially released.
According to the state police investigation, police were called to an attempted break-in that turned out to be Johnson trying to get into the wrong apartment in his apartment complex.
The officer, Cpl. Chad Bean, chased Johnson to Spring Street Bridge, where they saw that Johnson was apparently armed with a gun. After a few minutes of talking, Bean shot Johnson. The investigation revealed Johnson was armed with a pellet gun. Twelve minutes had passed between the officer’s arrival and the shooting.
The attorney general cleared officers of wrongdoing in both cases. Facos said Johnson’s death unfolded too fast to get a clinician to the scene, but that the officer followed their training and tried to de-escalate the situation.
When asked if there was anything that could have prevented the situation, Facos said, “My first response is, well, do we have an adequate mental health system? A true system in Vermont, you know, not just the communities of haves and have nots in terms of where the investments have been made for mental health support.”
He said part of the challenge for that officer that day is that Johnson appeared to be armed with a gun. Even under established police training guidelines to de-escalate subjects, he said, “in all those training models, when a firearm is used, that doesn’t apply.”
De-escalation techniques
De-escalation is a series of strategies officers can take to try to calm subjects and prevent violence. At a low level, it includes tactics like lowering your voice or approaching a subject slowly. But de-escalation training also teaches officers to see situations from the perspective of the subject, to form a relationship with them, to take measures to accommodate a person’s strong emotions during a stressful encounter.
Some of the measures were put in place in reaction to fatalities like Robert “Woody” Woodward, who police shot and killed in 2001 after he threatened himself and police with a knife during a church service. It was one of the first high-profile cases of an encounter between police and a mental health subject.
Both advocates and officers said they believe that de-escalation can save lives. Vermont Care Partners has started publishing a Good News Bulletin promoting examples of how departments are using training — including one incident in Montpelier where officers convinced a man who had stabbed himself to go to the hospital.
Maj. Dan Trudeau of the Vermont State Police, who investigates fatal shootings for the Attorney General’s Office to review, said he has seen numerous examples of attempts at de-escalation in videos of the incidents. “They put a lot of effort into it,” he said. “I’ve seen them pleading with subjects.”
All incoming police officers attend Act 80 training as part of the policy academy program at the Criminal Justice Training Council. The state police, Montpelier and all but 11 Vermont police departments have also participated in “Team Two” training, a daylong look at responding to people in crisis, said Mourning Fox, deputy commissioner at the Department of Mental Health.
“It’s about gaining active listening skills and recognizing the signs of someone with mental health issues,” Fox said. The program is funded 80% by DMH, with a boost from the Department of Public Safety.
Mental health professionals teach different sections, and most trainings include a conversation with a survivor of a mental health crisis. Dispatchers, paramedics and emergency room staff can attend the course as well, Fox said.
In an email, Cindy Taylor-Patch of the Criminal Justice Training Council said interacting with a person with lived mental health experience during Act 80 training was “emotional and moving.”
“It really gives officers the opportunity to see someone who has struggled at a time while they are well and able to talk about what they went through, what worked to calm and help them, what didn’t,” she said.
Some departments, though, have decided these daylong programs aren’t enough. Across the country, an increasing number of officers are attending Crisis Intervention Training, a weeklong program originally from Memphis that delves more deeply into mental health education and has officers watch or practice de-escalation techniques.
Hartford Police Chief Phillip Kasten made his department the first, and so far the only, in Vermont to try CIT after a string of stressful interactions with people in crisis.
“There would be someone distraught in a public setting, like a McDonald’s, and our staff responds to help,” he said. “But there ends up being a struggle and an officer falls and gets hurt.”
So, following the example of nearby Lebanon, New Hampshire, the department now sends every officer to CIT. Attendees take a field trip to the hospital and do role play exercises on de-escalation.
Fox said DMH would “never say no” to CIT training, but that it’s difficult to convince departments to take officers off duty for so long unless it becomes mandatory. “Team Two is free, but there’s a cost to departments because officers are just being paid to go to training,” he said.
Taylor-Patch said she believed training was “wonderful” but that de-escalation training has to be balanced with the many other needs of new and experienced officers. Officers in Vermont undergo 30 hours of training annually and cover many other topics like first aid, domestic violence, and fair and impartial policing.
“I think investments in extra training [in de-escalation] for those who show an exceptional ability can be great,” she said. “I think some basic level is critical for everyone to have.”
When asked about the cost of CIT, Kasten said, “You have time for what you make time for.” He was losing too many people to work-related injuries and seeing the effect on them.
“There’s a false perception that use of force is something officers like to do — it’s not,” Kasten said. “I came here to help them, and as the chief, I give them the tools to help them as much as I can.”
Trudeau said he’s also seen the cost of a fatal shooting on an officer. “Nobody ever wants to be involved in one of these,” he said. “The members involved replay the incident over and over again.”
Kasten also believes in the worth of the social worker, Whitney Hussong, who works in his department. She helps coordinate outreach with the local community of people with disabilities and those suffering from homelessness.
Nine other departments in the state have embedded mental health professionals, including two in state police barracks. But AJ Ruben of Disability Rights Vermont said in those departments, the social workers are overwhelmed with cases and get stuck in the ER checking on patients.
Ruben said he hears reports of excessive force between police and those with disabilities all across the state. He said many officers still interact in ways that exacerbate the situation.
“In those cases, it’s just luck that it didn’t escalate to deadly force,” he said.
He said that escalation is often tied to an outdated justice system that criminalizes mental illness. “If an officer sees you walking around naked in public, they could arrest you — or they could take you in for treatment,” Ruben said.
People with disabilities are also more likely to live in poverty and suffer from discrimination.
“People with mental illnesses are often afraid of the government or police, because we have a history of taking them from their home,” he said.
The Legislature is debating an expansion of training and policy for officers on de-escalation. Rep. Brian Cina, P/D-Burlington, proposed a bill, H.464, that would create a model policy on use-of-force, de-escalation and cross-cultural awareness training.
“Our policy has shaped the culture, and that’s leading to a problem,” he told the Government Operations Committee at a hearing in January. “And so if we want to change, this is not about holding individuals accountable. We need to change the system that’s generating the problem.”
One person hoping for better training is Rhonda Taylor, the mother of Taser victim Macadam Mason. She said her son should have seen a mental health professional that day rather than a cop.
As a nurse, she is trained on how to interact with people with disabilities. “We’re trained, so police officers should be too,” she said.
The data
While the uptick in shootings is recent, Allen Gilbert has seen the pattern of police fatal force for far too long.
“I was really struck when I went back … how many times people were saying the same thing that we’re starting to hear again,” he said.
He believes a key part of breaking that cycle is tracking it. “I don’t pretend to have an answer to the question, just a concern that we try to keep answering it,” Gilbert said.
The Vermont State Police is the only department that publishes data on its police shootings, going back to the 1970s. Few police departments in the state publish data on non-fatal uses of force that could give an understanding of the broader context of fatalities.
The Criminal Justice Training Council does maintain a log of the raw records for when police use Tasers in Vermont. Ruben said the records have proved valuable in their detail — asking, for example, whether the subject had a disability and whether mental health professionals were involved.
Cina’s proposed bill would expand Vermont’s current collection of traffic stop data to include whether force was used. “Oversight and consistency are critical, particularly in police practices of use of force,” he said.
Editor’s note on methodology: To get a better understanding of the causes of fatal encounters, Allen Gilbert began with a list created by the Attorney General’s Office in 2014 and built on it as reports came in of new deaths. VTDigger confirmed the data with Vermont State Police records and our own archives wherever possible.
Gilbert also provided news clips for cases going back to the 1970s using print and online archives. VTDigger reviewed those clips and others available online to create summaries of each case with the aim of giving the public a chance to better understand the context of fatal force.
Correction: An earlier version of this story misstated that a Montpelier officer involved in a fatal shooting last year had not been named. The officer, Cpl. Chad Bean, had previously been identified by police and was later found not to be responsible in the death.