
When Todd Keith Spence physically assaulted TWO state workers during a 2022 homeless camp cleanup and received only ONE misdemeanor assault charge, I was confused. Surely this was an opportunity to criminally charge a violent, non-compliant sex offender with at least TWO assault charges, right?
Wrong.
Here’s an excerpt from my article (link above) that I wrote about the incident, which I discussed with the Missoula County Sheriff’s Office after the violent attack occurred:
The details are where this story gets absolutely maddening, especially when you consider this day, September 8th, was the same day our elected leaders got together on the Missoula County Courthouse lawn to beg the Missoula electorate to pass the 5 million dollar mill levy for “crisis services” this fall. Those services include the Mobile Crisis Unit.
I wish the Mobile Crisis Unit would have been on site when Todd Spence returned to the area of the clean up because I doubt they would have momentarily detained him on the sidewalk, the way a volunteer described seeing Sheriff Deputies do, then inexplicably RELEASE him with another empty verbal command to leave, which Spence promptly ignored.
And then guess what the Sheriff Deputies did? They DROVE AWAY!
After obtaining a safety vest, Todd Spence took his bike and went to defend the destruction of his home, which entailed climbing a bulldozer and punching a MDT staff repeatedly in the face. This is how Todd Spence dealt with the confusion he had expressed earlier, at the volunteer sign-in area, as to why MDT was present, stating the property out there was his. I guess after 3 years of allowing this man to live out there, he got the impression the land belonged to him.
When I asked Deputy Jessop, later in the day, why the Mobile Crisis Unit wasn’t brought in, I was told that Spence wasn’t in the right state of mind for them to be effective, so the Sheriff’s Office didn’t want to “waste their time”. Instead, they let Spence go, and it wasn’t just two assaults that resulted. A local reporter, who was there to cover the cleanup, had to quickly evacuate the area after the volunteer coordinator called to warn her of the developing situation.
To contrast this situation, the FIVE charges Brandon Bryant faced last Friday during a jury trial were the result of standing in front of the bar where an altercation had just occurred (Bryant was NOT the instigator) and not putting his stick down fast enough when commanded to do so by local law enforcement.
While the jury rationally determined Brandon Bryant was NOT guilty of assaulting the four cops who beat and tased him (the most serious charge), the estrogen-dominated jury DID find Bryant guilty of obstruction, resistance, a subsequent “privacy in communications” charge, and some other bullshit I can’t recall at the moment.
Justice served?
When I experienced jail for the first time as the result of a weaponized restraining order it was the classification process, and my two cell mates hatred of a coloring book image on our wall, that gave me some of the final insights I needed to understand WHY a certain County Attorney (Pabst) and Sheriff (McDermott) go so excited about “jail diversion” five years ago.
To decode the jail questionnaire I had to take before getting assigned to a “pod” I should note that a brush with the law in my youth for alcohol possession had already prepared me for the kind of tests that ask you the same question in different ways in order to get at some underlying, unspoken factor.
While it was easy to see what the “chemical dependency evaluation” was trying to get at (if, and how much, I was lying about my use of substances) the test I took in jail seemed to be all about my “safety”, and if I didn’t feel safe, why I didn’t feel safe. I didn’t understand at the time what the underlying factor was, since the whole experience was new and disorienting, but, in hindsight, it became obvious which subpopulation was being identified for extra safety precautions.
The coloring book picture seemed innocent enough until my cellies explained the context of their hatred for it. The pod I had been assigned to had originally been the one for sex offenders, but because of their growing number inside jail, they had moved that population to a larger pod.
“Notice what THAT picture has that OUR pictures don’t?” One of my cellmates asked me.
I compared the coloring book material my cell mates had to the one they tried scraping off the wall and, yeah, none of theirs featured kids snorkeling. This seemed to confirm, to them, a degree of catering to certain tastes by jail staff that my cell mates very much opposed to.
Keeping offenders safe in jail is a government job (or a private sector CoreCivic one, in the case of Nathan Lake) that could result in costly litigation if not done properly, so when you have a subpopulation that comes with additional risks to that bottomline, you have to take extra precautions, and THAT feeds an underlying tension of both individual AND institutional resentment that would collectively prefer to externalize that risk as much as possible.
On the other side of the jail cell, then, a whole world has blossomed for the societal substrata that technology has helped proliferate. Locally that means the Sheriff’s Office getting into bed with affordable housing efforts, like Blueline Development’s Trinity project, but, nationally, I think something larger and more culturally corrosive is happening.
Sex offenders, on the outside, are natural snitches managed by probation and parole officers who require their clients to report ANY contact with law enforcement. I saw how this worked up close when the kitchen manager at Silk Road was questioned as a person of interest in the accidental drowning death of Leah Hartley.

It’s been six months since Leah’s death and, after accessing her autopsy report via a third party, I’m confident that her culture killed her, not an individual. So I’ll be writing about that culture and the supposed “artists” adding their names to the list of locals that would prefer I not write about the things I am writing about.
To wrap up this post I’ll remind readers how the state of Montana, thanks to the Montana Supreme Court, is making big changes about what can be ascertained regarding offenders and their risk to local communities.
The Montana Sexual or Violent Offender Registry (SVOR) is undergoing major changes following a Montana Supreme Court ruling that limits what information the state can publicly share, even retroactively.
The decision affects more than 1,100 Montana sexual and violent offenders, 90 of whom are Tier 3, the highest risk offenders to the community. The order removes or reduces long-standing requirements for people who were convicted before newer registry laws were enacted.
Photos, convictions, and living or working restrictions are no longer publicly available in those cases, prompting concern from law enforcement and community members, such as Hannah Flocchini.
While some of these concerns are theoretical, my time working at the Poverello Center gave me concrete examples of how some offenders used those services, like free food, to lure potential victims, and this week I think I’ll be telling some of those stories, so stay tuned.














