FRAZEYSBURG, Ohio — Still draped in its Fourth of July bunting, this town of 1,100 citizens in the Appalachian foothills lives in fear of the next American revolution even as it celebrates the first.
Ever since a Frazeysburg police officer shot and killed a high-ranking member of the Ohio Unorganized Militia 10 days ago, the tiny brick municipal building on 2nd Street has remained empty. The village clerk works at home, out of prudence, in case someone seeks revenge.
The mayor's wife worries every time her husband turns the key in his pickup truck's ignition; she fears what might be planted in the engine. She's moved her hunting rifle and shotgun within easy reach, out of their hiding places in the closet.
The police officer in question, on administrative leave, has been moved to a safehouse far away.
The tension began in the early hours of June 28, when Sgt. Matthew May, an eager 24-year-old known as a stickler for rules, pulled over a car without regulation license plates. Instead, it bore white metal plates with professional red lettering: OHIO MILITIA 3-13 CHAPLAIN. A cross adorned the center.
The driver was Michael Hill, 50, a former Canton, Ohio, police officer who had moved to an isolated part of the state near the West Virginia border to raise dogs. As well as serving as the militia's chief spiritual adviser, Hill was chief justice of a court the militia had established based on Scripture and the Constitution. The number on his tag referred to the part of the Ohio revised code that he cited as proof that the state could not control his right to travel.
At a wide, gravel-covered shoulder, between Ohio 16 and an alfalfa field, the encounter took a fatal turn. Either May was defending himself against Hill, who wielded a .45-caliber handgun at the officer--or May murdered a peaceful man, who, though armed, kept his hands at his side and his weapon tucked in his waistband underneath his shirt.
People who say they were witnesses tell diametrically opposing versions. Either way, law enforcement and militia leaders around the nation have been dreading an incident like this: a routine traffic stop that ends in death and becomes a symbol, a focal point for the suspicion that has been growing between both groups, deserved or not.
"The media tells police officers that we're shooting at them and all kinds of stuff," said Ken Adams, executive director of the National Confederation of Citizen Militias, a clearinghouse for the movement. "That's what they're hearing. So this kind of thing happens.
"If it continues to happen, then it is going to get dangerous out there," Adams said. "A militia person when he stops is going to defend himself."
Signs of the choosing of sides are easy to find. Some townspeople wear navy and silver ribbons--the colors of the Frazeysburg police cruisers--to show they believe May. Others bought caps at the Wal-Mart with the word Cops on the front.
Meanwhile, a wreath of white, black and red carnations appeared just east of the site where Michael Hill died.
As the Muskingum County sheriff investigates the killing, communications of the militia movement--the Internet, faxes and short-wave radio--crackle with anger.
"Was this the shot heard 'round the world? Will you be next?" asked a faxed Ohio Unorganized Militia Update from E Pluribus Unum, a Columbus patriot-movement group. Another fax from the organization's leader, James J. Johnson, warned: "Due to recent events, more patriots are becoming minutemen, i.e., assuming a state of readiness."
"This is utterly outrageous. This is cold-blooded murder," read one posting to a militia discussion group. "Well, then, I'd expect his friends to take care of the matter, eh?" said another posting from Maryland.
Hill's friends, for the record, say that they are outraged by his death and by what they see as a cover-up. But, they add, they plan to pursue vengeance only through the courts.
Sheriff Bernie Gibson has suggested that three militia members who say they were following Hill and saw the incident are lying. At the same time, Gibson would not identify another purported witness who corroborates May's story, though his name is common knowledge in the streets of Frazeysburg. The man has left the state because of concerns over his safety, said Frazeysburg Police Chief Ron Brown.
"They don't need to be afraid of us," said Kathi Herda, who lives in nearby Zanesville and attended a meeting with Hill and his three friends the night he died.
The national militia confederation retained Atlanta attorney Nancy Lord, who on behalf of Hill's widow, Arleen, is preparing a civil lawsuit against May.