As timber values rise, tree theft follows
WHITESBURG, Ky. (AP) - January 2, 2008 "It's just like someone cut your heart out," says the
77-year-old Potter, who lost an estimated $50,000 worth of
generations-old oak trees, which were taken from her property and
sold, without permission, while she was away.
Rogue loggers have long preyed on private properties from coast
to coast, taking advantage of the elderly, the absent or - in
Potter's case - both. And they traditionally had little to fear
from law enforcement officials hesitant to pursue criminal charges,
instead chalking up most complaints to property disputes. But as
timber values rise, so have the stakes for landowners - and the
attitude of law enforcement is adjusting accordingly.
"The authorities who have dealt with it as a property matter
are starting to look at it as more of a criminal matter," said
Joseph Phaneuf, executive director of the Northeastern Loggers'
Association. "But it's not happening without a push from the
individuals affected."
In recent years, there's been a steady movement to curb illegal
logging. Some states, such as Mississippi and Virginia have
established specific timber theft laws, making illegal logging on
private property a felony punishable by jail time.
Other states, including New York, have started timber theft
prevention campaigns that warn property owners of the common claims
thieves make when caught red-handed.
In Kentucky, the problem has resulted in the formation of the
Appalachian Roundtable, a nonprofit that joins forestry experts,
attorneys, law enforcement and victims to alert landowners to
logging scams and pursue criminal charges against timber thieves.
The group is drafting legislation to be introduced in the 2008
Kentucky General Assembly to make timber theft a felony punishable
by a prison sentence.
"Historically, it's been viewed by local police and the
judiciary as a civil complaint," said Keith Cain, president of the
Kentucky Sheriffs Association. "But the theft of timber is a
criminal issue and should be prosecuted as such."
With the overseas demand for North American hardwoods growing,
it's become a more costly issue for private landowners, whose tree
farms and woodlands make up 55 percent of U.S. timber production,
forestry officials say. The rest comes from lands owned by the
state and federal governments, the logging industry and other
investors.
While there's no timber theft charge on the books in Kentucky,
regular theft charges can still be filed, said Dea Riley, executive
director of the Appalachian Roundtable, which is currently working
with more than 50 families who claim they are victims of timber
thefts.
"It's a racketeering game," said Riley, who helped Potter
convince the Kentucky State Police to investigate her case when
local authorities wouldn't. "These people are victims."
Because timber theft often goes unreported or unprosecuted, few
track cases nationwide. However, a 2003 Virginia Tech University
study estimated that landowners lose in excess of $4 million to
timber thieves each year in the otherwise poor but hardwood-rich
Appalachian states.
Also, domestic prices for hardwoods, such as cherry, walnut and
white oak, have increased about 10 percent over the past decade,
according to analysts, but the demand overseas, especially in China
and southeast Asia, has increased substantially over the past few
years.
"They don't have enough wood to feed their mills," said Sara
Baldwin, a timber analyst at the University of Georgia, referring
to the Chinese market.
For the unscrupulous logger, it adds up to little risk and hefty
profits.
"The pressures of high-value timber and absentee landowners
pose a tremendous opportunity for people," said Phaneuf.
Phaneuf added that even though timber thieves represent a small
portion of loggers, they tarnish the image of the industry that
relies heavily on word-of-mouth referrals among landowners.
"Those kinds of stories reflect very poorly on us and create
distrust in the marketplace," he said. "We don't even call them
loggers - basically they're just thieves."
A common timber thief is an experienced logger with a small
crew, said Jonathan Callore, assistant law enforcement chief of the
South Carolina Forestry Commission.
South Carolina's tree theft law - which poses hard jail time and
stiff penalties - is considered model legislation by many in the
industry.
To Cain, a western Kentucky sheriff who supports Riley's group,
timber theft is no different than other crimes, though he's had
trouble in his own Daviess County with getting timber theft cases
sent to criminal court. He said the same local prosecutors who
vigilantly try other felonies are reluctant to get involved in
timber cases.
That's because they anticipate questions about property
boundaries and few people have the money or the resources to hire a
lawyer, pay thousands of dollars for a survey or hire an expert to
place a value on the timber lost.
Timber thieves manipulate these obstacles, experts say.
They usually operate along adjoining property lines and claim to
have either owner's permission to log on the property in question,
according to the New York Forest Owners Association.
If either landowner is absent, a timber thief can spot a group
of oaks, chop them down and exit the property without anyone
knowing for weeks.
Caught in the act, a logger may offer money - typically a
fraction of the actual market value. Accept the money and the
logger may continue to hack away at your property, claiming you've
been paid for the timber.
"They're in the logging business," Callore said. "They'll go
into the courthouse and find out who has a local address and who
has an absentee address, and go and cut on the property."
Potter suspects she was targeted the same way.
A couple of years ago, she decided to move in with her grown
children in Ohio with her husband, who is diabetic and blind. She
only visits her 25-acre property a few times a year.
If it hadn't been for her nephew, Mark Combs, who lives on the
adjacent property, she may not have known for months that her oaks
were taken down.
Combs confronted a local logger one November day after hearing
the unusual sound of a chain saw on his aunt's property.
The case is slated for a grand jury next month, though it still
brings Potter little satisfaction.
"Thirty-two oak trees that have been there for years," said
Potter. "It was my turn to give them to my son and daughter, but
you can't replace those."