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Two members of an offbeat running club whose flour trail set off a terror scare at IKEA will likely not have to pay restitution, according to a deal reached with the city.
After originally seeking thousands of dollars in restitution for the cost incurred by a dramatic hazmat scene in the IKEA parking lot on Aug. 23, the city Friday agreed that community service, not monetary payback, would be a more appropriate punishment for the runners.
Daniel Salchow, a local ophthalmologist and Dorothee Salchow, his sister visiting from Hamburg, Germany, were both charged with first-degree breach of peace, a felony, for inciting the terror scare.
The siblings are members of the Hash House Harriers, a “drinking group with a running problem” with more than 1,800 chapters worldwide. When they sprinkled flour through the IKEA parking lot on Aug. 23, setting a course for a four-mile “hash,” someone inside IKEA reported “suspicious powder.” Out came the hazmat suits. Shoppers had to drop their shoe racks and evacuate the building.
The runners’ attorney, Michael Jefferson (pictured above), contends the charges were unwarranted because his clients had no intent to spark such a scare.
After the incident, the city police department submitted a letter to court asking for $4,100 in restitution for the cost incurred by fire and police response. By the time Daniel Salchow appeared in court Friday, the city had agreed that restitution wouldn’t make sense.
Instead of paying back the city in money, the runners are crafting a plan to “convert” the unfortunate incident into something positive for the city, said Daniel Salchow, who paced through the lobby of New Haven Superior Court Friday in a bow tie and plaid jacket.
“Do You Want Me To Eat It?”
Salchow, a pediatric ophthalmologist at Yale-New Haven Hospital, said he still “cannot believe” the way the city and state responded to his “innocent” game. His sister was amid a five-day visit from Germany on Aug. 23 when they sprinkled down a route for fellow Hash House Harriers through New Haven streets.
Salchow had laid down courses like this all over the world, from Australia to Thailand. A diehard “hasher,” he met his wife at a New York race. They hashed at their wedding. They hashed on their honeymoon. In the short two months after arriving in New Haven this summer, they had already set up a hashing club and arranged four races. Races follow a series of unpredictable turns to an undisclosed final destination, often a pub or party.
Even in Singapore, where police can fine people for spitting in the street, no one bothered the joggers as they ran their routes. In Washington, D.C., Salchow had “hashed” alongside active military personnel and state department employees, right past the Iraqi and Israeli embassies, he said. What happened in New Haven was “hard to understand,” recalled Salchow Friday, awaiting his appearance in court. (His sister, Dorothee, had flown home to Germany, where she practices law).
He had been in New Haven for only a couple months on the day he saw IKEA alight with Hazmat suits and whisperings of anthrax. When he found out what had happened, he tried to explain to police.
“Look guys, do you want me to eat it?” he asked safety officials. It was the same flour his wife had used to bake a cake a few days ago. “Let me clean it up — I’ll get my broom,” he insisted.
“No, no, no” came the reply.
Salchow argues New Haven cops should have known better: Even the FBI was aware of the situation, posting an advisement in 2001 that “the first probability to be considered is that a ‘trail’ of handfuls of white powder is probably associated with a local jogging group,” not an anthrax attack.
Safety officials told the Salchows they should have known better before laying down the powder.
“They acted irresponsibly in doing something they knew could have instilled fear,” charged mayoral spokeswoman Jessica Mayorga Friday. “They made no effort to make us aware” of the purpose of their powdery activities.
Salchow dismissed the idea. “What, you have to call police every time you want to run?” He asked incredulously. “Anytime you draw something, are you going to be arrested? If you drop flour from your shopping bag, are you going to be arrested? The implications for privacy and safety are just immense.”
Jefferson called the public safety response a grand “overreaction.” When a similar incident set off a scare outside a Chicago zoo in 2002, officials settled the affair at the scene. “I find it unbelievable that the state remains committed to prosecuting these individuals for engaging in an innocent activity.”
Mayorga defended officers’ choice of a felony charge and called the reaction “appropriate.”
Punishment, however, is now up to the state, which has not dropped the felony charge. The state’s prosecutor, David Strollo, could no be reached for comment Friday.
Hash For Hill Health?
Meanwhile, Jefferson was pleased to hear that the city will not be seeking restitution. Instead, he and his client hope to set up a fund raiser in collaboration with IKEA and the city.
Salchow’s vision? A House Hash Harriers benefit race, open to the public, set in New Haven. The route would be set through city sidewalks and parks. It would bring suburbanites to “appreciate” urban New Haven, introduce people to the joys of hashing, and raise money for the Hill Health Center, whose clients Salchow treats.
“I am very pleased to hear the city is thinking along the same lines,” said the doctor, leaving court after his case was heard, continued until October 5.
Mayorga said the mayor’s goal had been for the Salchows to perform 50 hours of community service. She welcomed the hashing fund raiser idea: “If the residents can benefit, I think we can all move forward on a good note.”
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