The Robo Ranger of Griffith Park

By STEVE LOPEZ

Aug. 31, 2001 12 AM PT

Peter Aiello of Eagle Rock was enjoying a sunset bike ride and minding his own business in Griffith Park one fine evening when an overzealous junior crimebuster decided to ruin his day.

“I was up near the observatory, and this ranger says I can’t ride there,” says Aiello.

He was on the sidewalk to avoid traffic, doing about 2 mph, and had never been harassed there before. When he asked for an explanation, he was told to get off the bike and show some ID. Taken aback, he asked what was up.

Bad move.

“I was grabbed and thrown to the ground. I somehow got back on my feet and was staring into a can of Mace. Over and over I was screaming, ‘What is wrong with you?’ ”

In times past, a taxpaying grunt like Aiello would have had no recourse after being handcuffed by a park ranger, hauled to a police station and cited. But Aiello did what more and more Southern Californians are choosing to do when confronted with insolence, arrogance and injustice of every sort.

He called the Hack Hotline.

(That’s [213] 237-6555. Operators are standing by.)

The Hack Hotline has now learned exclusively that the Robo Ranger in question, Doug Kilpatrick, has been named in at least nine citizen complaints since 1999. One poor man was so incensed, he sued him. Another has hired an attorney and private investigator to track down other victims.

“He’s worse than Barney Fife,” says Darrell Jones, a Los Angeles actor who was reading his lines in the park when confronted by Kilpatrick. Jones’ crime? His car radio was too loud and he had a drop of what he said was nonalcoholic beer in an empty cup.

Stephen Romio of Hollywood says he was legitimately cited by Kilpatrick for riding on an off-limits dirt trail but was hogtied after protesting as Kilpatrick “tossed my bike around.”

Peter Rhodes of Silver Lake says he was cited for riding his bike on a dirt trail he was never on. But he contested in court and lost, then filed a complaint only to see Kilpatrick cleared. “The whole thing is a total sham,” says Rhodes. “I realize it’s not Rampart, but it’s the same idea.”

Amilcar Barquero of Los Angeles says he spent several hours in jail after Kilpatrick came by to inspect an ice chest and sniff cups at a birthday celebration.

“Nobody’s doing anything wrong,” Barquero protested, only to be put down to the ground and handcuffed. He sued Kilpatrick, but dropped the case because he couldn’t afford to proceed.

If these accounts are not unsettling enough for those who enjoy the tranquillity of Griffith Park, there’s more.

Ranger Kilpatrick, who did not return the Hack Hotline’s calls, popped up in a story last year in which park rangers argued for more powers of arrest. They even wanted guns, God forbid. Should they get their wish, DO NOT let your children out of your sight on park grounds.

“If I don’t have a right to self-defense, I’m going to think twice about approaching [violators],” said Kilpatrick,a ranger for more than 20 years.

The Hack Hotline has seen this sort of attitude elsewhere. In fact, the cop wannabe syndrome is quite common among junior cadets. They all see bad guys in their dreams, and they all want guns and ammo.

Not that there aren’t some tough characters lurking in the park. But Ellen Oppenheim, Recreation and Parks Department GM, says the cops already patrol Griffith. She’d rather have her rangers leading nature walks than gearing up for an armed defense of Mt. Hollywood.

Asked by the Hack Hotline if certain rangers might be provoking altercations as justification for packing heat, Oppenheim said the thought had not occurred.

She passed me off to Jim Combs, who oversees the ranger operation. He said an internal investigation cleared Kilpatrick of any wrongdoing in the case of bike rider Peter Aiello.

Well, of course it did. That’s the whole purpose of an internal investigation, as I understand them.

Asked about other complaints against Kilpatrick, Combs covered himself by saying he’d only been on the job a year.

Listen to me, pal. The Hack Hotline has only been on the job a week, and I’ve interviewed seven people who had run-ins with Kilpatrick. Get with the program.

“I think I’ll go and talk to our personnel department,” Combs finally said. “It’s something that I will look at.”

Do I have to draw pictures for these people?

“These are not some scrubs Kilpatrick went after,” says Bob Celano, a private detective and former cop who’s been bird-dogging the Robo Ranger. “These are professional people with some standing.”

Celano’s working for attorney Mike Grodsky on behalf of a man named Roderick Greaves, a physicist of international renown. Greaves got into a scuffle with Kilpatrick in December while sitting in his car with a friend, and ended up being charged with assault on a peace officer and resisting arrest.

The case is expected to be heard sometime in the next several weeks, and they may need to install bleachers in the courtroom. All the others who had run-ins with Kilpatrick are going to show up in support. It’s going to be like an episode of “This Is Your Life” for Kilpatrick.

“I wouldn’t miss it,” says Pasadenan Stephen Schweitzer, a train attendant with Amtrak. His high crime involved a refusal to empty a cup during a tailgate session before a concert at the Greek Theatre. “I’ll be there even if I have to skip an Amtrak trip and lose $600 to $800 in pay.”

The Hack Hotline will be there, too.

Front row.

Witness for the people.

Sloth? Fraud? General incompetence? Drop a dime today and see justice served. Call or e-mail the Hack Hotline at [email protected]