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by Vince Castellanos '92
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"I think Mac helped me become more open and compassionate. I don't judge people," says DEA Special Agent Tony Santos '81. He is photographed in silhouette because he may be returning to undercover work.
GREG HELGESON
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Tony Santos '81, special agent for the U.S. Drug Enforcement Administration, Minneapolis
Why law enforcement?
I wanted to be a cop since I was in the fourth grade. I grew up on the West Side of St. Paul and saw a lot of drugs there. Heroin was really big, and I knew a couple of guys who OD'ed. That had quite an influence on me, and I wanted to try and make a difference in people's lives because of it.
In the mid-1980s the only opening for federal law enforcement was with Border Patrol. I spent three years in Yuma, Arizona, in 120-degree heat as a Border Patrol agent. We found a lot of people dying in the desert; we'd have aliens airlifted to hospitals. I transferred to the DEA in 1988.
What are your duties?
I spent 16 years in Texas doing undercover drug investigations. Drugs came across the border and were stored in my area before being delivered all over the U.S. I learned early on that I could pose as a transporter--I convinced dealers that I could get their product places. I hung out in the right places, met the right people and created identities and scenarios that persuaded these people I could deliver for them. I once spent eight months undercover delivering drugs for an organization.
I moved back to Minnesota a couple of years ago to help my parents out, but I want to go back to Texas. In my line of work you can't find a better place; we were burning 40,000 pounds of marijuana a month and all the big offenders are there.
How do you deal with the job's inherent dangers?
I'd be lying if I claimed I was never afraid. It's almost like another personality; I like to say that my alter ego would do a lot of things I'd never do. You put the risks way in the back of your mind, but I've had a few scary situations. Once I was buying a pound of heroin and the surveillance agents missed my arrest signal. I needed to apprehend the dealer on my own, and when I drew my gun he charged at me. Luckily, an informant in the room helped me. I was shot at when I worked in the Border Patrol. We heard automatic weapon fire coming from across the river. It was pitch-black, so we couldn't see where it was coming from. We were just glad when it stopped.
David Brice '97, a police officer in Tulsa, Oklahoma, says officers often have gun dreams.
Oh I do, sure. When I was with the Border Patrol, my Smith & Wesson had a glitch, so that's always the gun in my dreams. My wife says I wake up from nightmares all the time, but I don't even remember most of them.
It's like a rollercoaster: You wonder, "God, what am I doing on this ride?" But when it's over you want to do it again.
--Tony Santos '81 |
How do you juggle work with family?
I've been married for 19 years and have two kids, but this is definitely tough on families. I've missed birthday parties, gotten the call during social functions and been away from home a lot. My son [Anthony, 17, who is considering Macalester] has expressed interest in joining the DEA, and I'm not encouraging that at all. I know the dangers, how hard it is on a person.
What's the worst crime you face?
Meth is real bad right now, especially in places like Minnesota where we're seeing 50-pound seizures. It's so destructive physically, it just tears you apart. I see people who look like they've aged 20 years in a few months.
How did Mac prepare you for the job?
You can't be one-dimensional or narrow-minded at Mac. I learned that things aren't black and white, and I think Mac helped me become more open and compassionate. I don't judge people. There are reasons and motivations for everything, but there are consequences, too. My sociology degree also really helped me see what makes people tick and what their next move might be.
What's the best part of the job?
You're exposed to a lot of ugliness and some of the worst parts of life. At the same time, I've enjoyed all of my years. I feel like I'm doing something for my children and my community. I think I'm making a difference. And honestly, it's exciting. It's like a rollercoaster: You wonder, "God, what am I doing on this ride?" But when it's over you want to do it again. It's cat-and-mouse with offenders and you're beating them at their own game. You make an arrest and you know someone else will take over or move in, but you've disrupted the chain, and that's satisfying. •
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