By LEE WILLIAMS Argus Leader
published: 3/20/01
Lyle Swenson has been a lawman longer than many of his deputies have been alive.
But after 37 years as Davison County Sheriff and another four as U.S. Marshall in Sioux Falls, Swenson finds himself on borrowed time.
The election of George W. Bush as president means the 65-year-old likely will be replaced soon by a Republican appointee. For the first time in more than four decades, the veteran lawman could be out of a job.
"I've got no idea what I would do, other than law enforcement," Swenson said.
Sporting his trademark crew cut -- a hair style he's worn as long as his friends can remember -- Swenson still looks like a street cop. But the unassuming law officer worked himself up from deputy to federal marshal earning national law enforcement credentials along the way. In 1989, he was elected president of the National Sheriff's Association.
"Lyle is one of the icons of South Dakota law enforcement. He is extremely respected, across the country," said John Whitelock, Chief Deputy U. S. Marshal. "He's been an outstanding marshal, and I would hate to see him go."
The mission of the United States Marshal's Service, the country's oldest law enforcement agency, has always been to protect federal court judges and officers and to assist with judicial operations.
But today's marshals do much more. They transport federal prisoners, operate the Witness Security Program and arrest more federal fugitives than all other federal law enforcement agencies combined.
Over the last few years, there has been a move within the marshal's service nationally to replace political appointees with with career professionals, Whitelock said.
"The agency can run effectively without a U.S. Marshal," Whitelock said. "But if we have to have political marshals, we need marshals like Lyle."
Swenson's law enforcement philosophy is simple.
"I try to treat people like I would like to be treated if I was in similar circumstances," he said.
In decades of carrying a badge, Swenson said he has never hit anyone. He has never been the subject of a citizen's complaint and he is proud of both accomplishments.
"I've used force," he said. "I've grabbed people and gotten them under control. But I haven't had to hit anybody -- ever -- with a fist or a nightstick or anything else."
Despite his old-school approach to law enforcement, co-workers say Swenson has kept abreast of technology in crime investigation techniques.
"He's really kept current," Whitelock said.
A former coworker in Mitchell lists the lessons Swenson taught him -- things as simple as maintaining a professional demeanor and making sure everyone who walks into the sheriff's department is greeted to ensuring your tie stays straight.
"He was the perfect sheriff. He taught me an immense amount about law enforcement and what it means to be sheriff, such as loyalty to your people, whether employees or the citizens themselves," said Kim Moline, the current Davison County Sheriff, who worked as Swenson's chief deputy for nine years.
"He was never a boss in the traditional sense. I always considered him more like an uncle. We had that kind of relationship," Moline said. "I've been thinking a lot about that relationship lately, and I miss not having Lyle down the hallway to bounce ideas off. I haven't found anybody to replace him."
Davison County record
The sheriff's office is an elected position, but in Davison County, Swenson often ran unopposed.
"Nobody had a chance. We were better off leaving him alone," said E. Steve Smith, a Mitchell Republican who has known Swenson for 35 years. "He was the anchor of the Democratic ticket. If you ran a candidate against Lyle, he'd bury you on the sheriff's race, and on others too."
As sheriff, Swenson's biggest challenge usually came from the Davison County Commission. In addition to annual budget clashes, they clashed over construction of a new county jail.
Dan Cunningham was one of the commissioners involved in those battles.
Swenson wanted to build a new 48-bed jail for $5 million. Instead, Cunningham said, the county opted to put the jail into an existing structure at a lower cost.
Despite those financial battles, Cunningham has nothing but praise for Swenson.
"Lyle would take on hell with a bucket of water. He's very straightforward, and supported his guys 100 percent," Cunningham said. "I just can't think of anything that would be derogatory about the man. He's one hell of a good law man, a good father, good church man and a good community man."
It is that sense of community that separates Swenson from some others in his field. One of the easiest traps for a law officer to fall into, he said, is an "us vs. them" mentality, toward members of the public.
Swenson wanted to guard against his deputies isolating themselves from residents, associating only with other officers. He feared the separation could lead to a lack of empathy for community residents.
"I ordered them to become active in the community," Swenson said. "I told them to join a church, a civic group, or anything else that puts them in regular contact with members of the public."
Swenson, who grew up near Mitchell, led by example, becoming a member of the Lion's Club and developing a talent as an expert pancake flipper. He also joined the Mitchell volunteer fire department.
"Lyle would never hesitate to enter a structure fire. You couldn't keep him out," said Steve Willis, Mitchell's assistant fire chief.
As a volunteer firefighter, Swenson also responded to vehicle crashes. At 6'4", Swenson was the go-to guy for the heavy Jaws-of-Life, a cumbersome tool with a gas-powered motor, usually hefted by two men.
"He could pick it up and run with the tool," Willis said. "You could always count on Lyle during an emergency situation."
Called on experts
The biggest criminal case in Davison County during Swenson's tenure was the murder of LaDonna Mathis and her two sons on their Mount Vernon farm in 1981.
Swenson called in the FBI to assist in the Mathis investigation.
"He was a good cop, but he had no experience investigating murders. But he knew he didn't," said Ron Grove, the FBI agent assigned to the Mathis case. "So he called in the experts. Lyle knew we had worked some murders, so we walked through the scene, and consulted."
LaDonna Mathis' husband, John, was charged with the killings, and later acquitted by a jury.
Grove, now retired, believes the state charged the right man.
"You can always Monday morning quarterback, but I don't know all that they (the jury) did," he said.
Mathis, who still lives in the Mount Vernon area, declined to discuss the case.
Grove said the marshal's service was lucky to get an appointee with Swenson's background.
"We kiddingly called him 'Burrhead.' We'd call up there and ask for Burrhead, and they'd just laugh," he said.
Grove's only beef with Swenson involved a comment he made in jest to the FBI agent's supervisor at a law enforcement gathering. Grove introduced Swenson to his newly appointed boss, the FBI supervisor for South Dakota.
Swenson jokingly told the man that Grove was constantly saying how much he wanted to be stationed in Detroit, which was not a highly desired assignment for agents.
"Two years later, they transferred me...to Detroit," Grove said. "He was just being cute, but still..."
Another year possible
Former U.S. Marshal Gene Abdallah knows well the stress of not knowing when you're going to be forced out of a job. He held the Republican marshal's appointment for 12 years.
Once Bill Clinton was elected, the uncertainty began.
"It's a son-of-a-bitch," Abdallah said. "I hired almost everybody in that office. We grew together. It was hard saying goodbye."
Abdallah served almost 12 months into the Clinton presidency before being replaced.
Robert Ecoffey then served as marshall before leaving to take a position with the Bureau of Indian Affairs at Pine Ridge.
Abdallah said because the new administration has to deal with other judicial appointments, the same time lag may happen with Swenson's replacement.
"He should be there another year anyway," Abdallah said.
U.S. Rep. John Thune, R-S.D., and Gov. Bill Janklow are putting together a selection committee to make a recommendation to Bush, who will then decide who will be the state's next marshal. "It will probably take some time," said Jennifer Hayes, Thune's spokesperson. "I don't know how long. I can't put a time limit on it."
Janklow did not return a call for comment.
Other marshal candidates include Capt. Warren Anderson of the South Dakota Highway Patrol and Lorin Pankratz, a lobbyist and private investigator.
The timing of the appointment is particularly important to Swenson. If he can serve one more year as marshal, he will be eligible for federal retirement.
Special memorabilia
In Swenson's office, sheriff's memorabilia competes for space with derringers and paintings of Swenson's predecessors -- Old West marshals riding horses, armed with Colt wheel-guns rather than today's semi-automatics.
In an oak display case rests one of his most treasured possessions -- a sword and scabbard presented to him when he was sworn-in as president of the National Sheriff's Association.
The NSA is a nonprofit organization dedicated to raising the level of professionalism in the criminal justice field.
"His association with the NSA is beneficial to the marshal's office in South Dakota and marshals across the country," Whitelock said.
Leonard "Bud" Williams was Mitchell's mayor when Swenson was named to the national post. He traveled to Honolulu, for Swenson's swearing-in and administered the oath of office.
"He ran an excellent sheriff's office. It was just excellent, strictly business. I never heard anyone say a bad word about the man," said Williams. "He's a tremendous individual. A better law enforcement officer -- I don't know where you'd find one."