Change came fast and furious for the Christian Law Enforcement Fellowship.
A little over a week ago, Voice of San Diego revealed that the organization, which provided Christian counseling to cops in crisis, had brought on an ex-deputy as chaplain who’d been accused of assaulting nearly two dozen women. The piece sparked broad outrage. Within days, the organization had cut ties with the man, Richard Fischer.
Days later, though, the fellowship quietly dissolved altogether.
The exact details of the dissolution still aren’t clear. At first, the only indication was that the organization’s website had been removed. Calls and emails to about a dozen officials with current and former ties to CLEF went unanswered. Former President Jerry Hara, who initially defended Fischer’s hiring, stopped answering calls.
After the backlash, Hara released a statement announcing the group had distanced itself from Fischer, writing “we were overzealous in our desire to help him through his redemption journey.”
Reached by phone, Joe Davis, a former chaplain for the organization, confirmed that CLEF had dissolved. He said the reason seemed pretty self-explanatory: “you’ve become toxic to the community that you were created … to help.”
As state Sen. Catherine Blakespear told Voice: “The possibility that a sexual predator who coerced women while wearing the badge … that there would be some elevation of that man to give guidance to other officers in a spiritual realm, it was so egregious.”
The scale of Fischer’s crimes was immense. All told, more than 20 women accused Fischer of abuse ranging from stalking and groping to forcing them to perform oral sex on him. He ultimately pled guilty to seven charges, which included felony assault and battery under authority of law and a handful of misdemeanors.
Because the charges weren’t technically sex crimes, Fischer was not required to register as a sex offender. He wound up serving only about two years for his myriad abuses. Taxpayers also footed the bill for the nearly $10 million paid out to his victims in a civil settlement and the about $1 million in attorneys’ fees his defense racked up.
Davis, the CLEF chaplain, was blindsided by the controversy. He said he and his wife attended a board meeting about a month ago where Fischer was introduced as a new chaplain at the organization. While he said Fischer’s background may have been more thoroughly explained at other meetings he did not attend, at this particular board meeting leadership seemed to downplay Fischer’s criminal history.
“When he was introduced, they just said ‘Oh, he did some things bad in the past, he did some time and now he’s gonna’ be one of our chaplains because he can really effectively help other officers,'” Davis recalled.
It wasn’t until he got a call from a supporter who told him they could no longer back the organization that he realized the scale of the new hire’s crimes. After reading the Voice article, he said he was taken aback.
“If I was made aware of that, I would have voiced my opinion. I don’t know what happened behind the scenes,” Davis said.
Looking back, Davis said he wasn’t sure what else could be done given the circumstances. But outside of the Fischer situation, he felt CLEF’s dissolution was “a shame.”
“A lot of good was done for almost forty years,” Davis said. “From beginning to end, it’s just sad.”
