OAKLEY – For a time, Gretchen Schulte would not tell people she lived in the Village of Oakley.

This was easier than having to explain the community’s peculiar situation: more than 100 volunteer reserve police officers in a village of fewer than 300 residents.

Oakley’s notoriety stretched across the state and nation, as news stories told of an outsize volunteer reserve police force, created by a polarizing chief — Robert Reznick.

He built a unique self-funded police department in the village, supported by donations from his volunteer cops, who gave thousands for the privilege but whose identities were long kept secret, drawing the ire of some residents and triggering years of litigation.

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“Cop fights to keep his secret mercenary army,” read a Daily Beast headline in 2015. “150 cops, population 300: pay-to-play policing …” began a headline in The Guardian that same year. And in the Free Press: "Big controversy in tiny village: Why so many reserve cops?"

The typically peaceful community was split: Some Oakley residents wanted Reznick gone; others praised his good work.

A local bar owner accused him of harassing a bartender. Others appreciated the events Reznick helped arrange for kids. Most of the reserves never set foot in town, but residents questioned a heavy police presence during events like Halloween and an annual biker gathering. Supporters have touted the free hams and turkeys Reznick and reserve officers delivered to residents on holidays.

Former village clerk: Reznick divided Oakley Former Oakley village clerk Gretchen Schulte discusses how former police chief Robert Reznick divided the village. Ryan Garza, Detroit Free Press

The controversy pitted friends against friends, neighbors against neighbors. Some said even families were at odds.

“Most of the people in this town have lived here most of their lives,” said Village Trustee Norman Wolfe, “and then all of a sudden they just turned on each other.”

Schulte and her husband came to Oakley 15 years ago and bought a house that once belonged to his grandparents and sits near the train tracks running through town. They wanted the small-town atmosphere. But the turmoil that overtook Oakley stopped her from telling people she lived there.

“I felt like somebody drew a line down the road and just divided this entire town,” said Schulte, who served as village clerk for a couple of years. “Neighbors couldn’t get along anymore because of one thing and that was Rob Reznick.”

The saga unraveled over several years. The police department lost its liability insurance and was briefly shut down; legal battles ensued, including fights over the reserve officers’ names, which were finally released, revealing a list that included high-powered metro Detroit business leaders, a professional athlete and a music star. Reznick’s house was raided by federal agents nearly two years ago and his time in Oakley came to an end; the donations dried up.

But the story is only now headed for its conclusion.

In March, the federal government dropped this news: Reznick was facing criminal charges.

Turns out the former chief had been up to more in Oakley than just transforming businessmen into amateur cops — he had used the village as a front to orchestrate a firearms fraud scheme.

The federal government said that as police chief he bought guns and ammunition from suppliers at reduced prices, claiming the weaponry was meant for police work. Instead, they say, he sold the ill-gotten goods to his primary customers: the Oakley reserve officers.

Most of the earnings came from ammo sales, but the feds say Reznick also made “a significant profit” by selling “high-end firearms such as assault weapons and firearms customized with an Oakley Police Department badge.”

Reznick, 60, who lives in Swartz Creek, pleaded guilty to charges of wire and tax fraud and faces sentencing Thursday.

“This has been difficult for him,” Mark Kriger, Reznick’s attorney, said last month. “He understands that he had a lapse in judgment and, you know, regrets his actions.”

Federal prosecutors want to see Reznick locked up for 18 months. His attorney has asked for probation. More than 40 letters of support were written on Reznick’s behalf, touting his charitable work and asking for leniency. One Oakley official wrote that the village's reserve officers were amazing and simply wanted “to help save small town America.”

But in a court filing, the feds say what was really going on was a pay-to-play reserve program, where volunteer cops gave the village donations and, in return, got badges and enhanced concealed weapons permits. Federal prosecutors said Reznick did not profit directly from the donations, but the scheme was set up for his benefit — not for the good of the village, where residents say crime has not been a problem, save for a little theft here and there.

“Oakley is not a small-town Gotham City, teeming with crime,” federal prosecutors wrote. “There is simply no way that the Village of Oakley was so crime-ridden to warrant over one hundred reserve officers. … The reserve program’s real purpose was to feed Reznick’s ego and provide him with access to and favors from some of the most wealthy and powerful individuals in southeast Michigan.”

As their embattled former police chief faces prison time, as the spotlight on the village fades and as the community moves on, Oakley residents say the division that once plagued their community seems to be diminishing.

Elaine Perkins of Oakley talks this month about life in the village after former Police Chief Robert Reznick. Ryan Garza, Detroit Free Press

“It’s still a nice town,” said Elaine Perkins, lounging in a chair on her front porch one recent, hot summer afternoon. “It’s just, you know, things have to pull back together a little more.”

Oakley was perhaps Reznick’s biggest public spectacle and the one that ultimately ended his four-decade law enforcement career, but it wasn’t the first time he’d been accused of dishonesty — or of being a bully.

Turns out, even his career began with a lie.

Just not old enough

Reznick’s law enforcement career started more than 40 years ago. In that time, he worked for several police agencies in mid-Michigan and assisted others with investigations.

In letters of support, written more than 30 years ago at a time when Reznick was dealing with another controversy, a prosecutor said he was a "very professional police officer" and a Drug Enforcement Administration official called him "outstanding and hard-working."

There were troubles along the way.

Reznick attended the Flint police academy in 1976 and on the cusp of graduation authorities discovered a problem: He wasn’t old enough to be a cop.

Records obtained by the Free Press show Reznick lied about his age to get in, falsifying his application to show he was 18, when he was really 17. His application was stamped with the signature of the then-Genesee County sheriff, and it claimed Reznick was a part-time employee of the sheriff, when he was really a confidential informant in high school.

"Mr. Reznick was working in a confidential matter, for the sheriff's department, at the high school as an informant on the drug situation there," according to a 1976 memo from an official with the state agency in charge of training cops.

In December 1976, Reznick’s academy training was deemed “null and void,” according to a letter from a state official to the then-Genesee County sheriff. It says Reznick "did not meet the State of Michigan Minimum Employment Standards."

After he turned 18 in 1977 — the year he graduated from Grand Blanc High School — Reznick went on to work part-time for that same sheriff's office as a marine officer with limited policing powers. Reznick asked for the state to reconsider certifying him as a police officer. His request was denied, records show.

Despite the denial, Reznick worked for a number of departments over the next several years, including Flushing and agencies in Genesee, Shiawassee, Lapeer and Huron counties.

At the time Reznick had gone through the academy, the state required police officers to be at least 18 and, starting in January 1977, it became mandatory to complete basic training. But there was no way for the state training council to track the movement of officers as they were hired, fired or moved from job to job. Police agencies back then were not required to report such information to the state, according to state officials.

For years, from the late '70s through the late '80s, Reznick did police work, including undercover drug buys, obtaining felony warrants and testifying in court. It wasn’t until 1988, while working for the Flushing Police Department, that Reznick’s status as a law enforcement officer came into question.

Then-Genesee County Prosecutor Robert Weiss notified the state agency overseeing cops that his office had been tipped off that Reznick might not be a certified police officer and that the Michigan State Police was investigating.

A State Police lieutenant reported Reznick said academy officials had told him to falsify his birth date on his application and said he would automatically be certified once he turned 18. Weiss said academy officials denied that claim.

In his letter, Weiss wrote Reznick had told police he was able to get into the academy because his father, a local physician, "had influenced top law enforcement personnel to let him go through."

Weiss wrote that, at the academy graduation, Reznick was given a copy of his certificate "so that he could go through the graduation program for the sake of his family." He said Reznick later used that certificate copy when applying for police jobs.

As to the departments that hired Reznick, Weiss wrote: "It is safe to conclude these departments, relying on these misrepresentations, felt Mr. Reznick was certified by the state when they hired him as a police officer."

Show caption Hide caption Oakley Police Chief Robert Reznick testifies March 4, 2015, in Shiawassee County Circuit Court during an evidentiary hearing regarding the Oakley village reserve police force.... Oakley Police Chief Robert Reznick testifies March 4, 2015, in Shiawassee County Circuit Court during an evidentiary hearing regarding the Oakley village reserve police force. The hearing was regarding the disclosure of reserve officer names in response to a Freedom of Information Act lawsuit. Jeff Schrier, AP

Several letters supporting Reznick and written by law enforcement professionals at the time touted his enthusiasm for police work and noted that he had handled hundreds of felony warrants and testified in criminal trials.

Some of Reznick’s supporters at the time said they believed he did not intend to defraud anyone.

But Weiss, the prosecutor, had doubts.

He wrote to the state that "criminal prosecution is not feasible at this time, primarily due to the lapse of time involved. However, it is the position of this office that Mr. Reznick's actions cannot be tolerated by those of us in law enforcement."

He asked that the state “not certify Mr. Reznick now or at any time in the future.”

He wrote that his office “would feel precluded by law from relying upon his statements for purposes of obtaining search and arrest warrants.” Reznick had “no credibility with this office and we would be unwilling to call him as a witness in any of our cases.”

Kriger, Reznick’s attorney in the current federal case, told the Free Press recently that Reznick had "responded to this allegation at the time of the investigation and does not feel it is necessary to respond any further."

In 1989, records show, Reznick enrolled again at a police academy — this time at Delta College.

Upon graduation, Reznick received a congratulatory letter from the state. It read:

“Dear Graduate … The Council commends your choice and effort to make law enforcement your professional career. We trust you will serve the public with respect, integrity, proficiency, and dedication they deserve and which professional law enforcement demands.”

The state certified him.

By that time, Reznick had already been working as a cop for more than a decade.

Troubles in another small town

In the years after finally becoming certified — and long before he gained notoriety as the Oakley police chief — Reznick worked for several more police departments.

He continued working in Flushing for a few years and did undercover work for Flint and Burton police. Records show he also worked for departments including Perry, Holly, Coleman, Clarkston and the Village of Gaines, where he eventually became police chief.

In a court record, Reznick indicated he left Gaines in 2001 because of a "change of governing board." An employment verification form, included as an exhibit in a civil case, indicates Reznick was "fired for failure to perform duties" and that he used a vehicle provided by the village for personal use.

The form bears the name of the then-village president.

"Mr. Reznick is a bully," the form says. "He did not get along with others and overstepped his authority."

Though he continued to do part-time police work, Reznick for many years focused on running his collections and civil process business, Due Process of Michigan. Across mid- and southeast Michigan, he was deputized by counties and worked as a court officer in many jurisdictions.

That work also led to complaints and more than two dozen federal lawsuits naming Reznick and others. Federal prosecutors said in a sentencing memorandum filed last month that "various allegations included strong-arm tactics and harassment, prompting one county to fail to renew Due Process's license based on a 'horror story' from one of their previous seizures."

He and others working on his behalf were accused of demanding entry into the homes of debtors — who owed money for things like unpaid loans and credit card debt — sometimes at night, then refusing to leave until they came up with cash, telling them to call friends and family to get money.

Some claimed he was aggressive and threatened them with arrest.

The federal government said Reznick’s work with his business — along with his actions as Oakley police chief — “raise serious questions about his character.”

His lawyer disagreed. In a court filing, attorney Kriger quoted a judge who recently wrote that Reznick was "on the front lines executing court orders day and night under some fairly contentious circumstances and was always respectful, compassionate, and courteous to those individuals involved."

The criticisms of Reznick didn’t seem to affect his ability to land police work. By the late 2000s, he was at the helm of a small, rural police department, making $500 a month.

It wasn’t long until the Village of Oakley started making headlines.

Oakley resident describes police 'show of force' Oakley resident Pat Coe describes police "show of force" during time of former police chief Robert Reznick. Ryan Garza, Detroit Free Press

Starting a secret force

The area in and around Oakley can be picturesque: Sunlight spreading across fields after a summer thunderstorm. A tractor rolling down the street with the grain elevator in the background. Nighttime drives ornamented by fireflies twinkling in the darkness.

Oakley was a good place to raise kids, residents say. Back in the day, they recall, doors stayed unlocked. Neighbors watched out for each other. Longtime residents remember a time when they would walk down by the creek to find crayfish and help farmers pick berries.

With so few residents, everybody knew everybody. Generations grew up and stayed put.

A man mows the grass near a grain elevator in the village of Oakley on Tuesday, July 2, 2019. Ryan Garza, Detroit Free Press

“It’s just a sleepy little town,” said Pat Coe, 71, who grew up in Oakley and now spends his days rocking in a swing under the chestnut tree in his front yard overlooking Main Street.

Asked how he would describe living in the town where he grew up, he said simply: "I haven’t any idea. I haven’t anything to compare it to."

It's rural, Coe said. It’s neighborly, too, others say.

“I mow her grass over there,” said Wolfe, 63, the village trustee, sitting in the yard outside of his house. “I mow this. I mow his. I mow hers. ... Plus, I mow for the village.”

At the Family Tavern — the bar at the center of the controversy with Reznick and the police department — Gerrie Miller, 76, comes in every day for happy hour.

“Busch Light,” she said. “Buck fifty.”

Miller, who has been coming to the tavern for years, felt Reznick tried to ruin the bar. She said she first started going there with her husband, who passed away a few years ago. Now, Miller, who lives about a dozen miles away in St. Charles, meets up with her friends at the tavern.

“I feel like they’re my family,” she said. “There’s just a bunch of us that come down here every night and we’re all friends.”

​Gerrie Miller, who lives in nearby St. Charles, at the Family Tavern in July. She said she meets up with friends every night for happy hour. Ryan Garza, Detroit Free Press

It was at the Family Tavern where Reznick was accused by the owners of harassing one of their bartenders. Dennis Bitterman, one of the bar owners, said he confronted Reznick and things got worse.

“Immediately, there’s cops in my parking lot; he’s pulling people over coming in and out of my bar," said Bitterman, who once served as a village trustee.

The issue of the secret reserve force was also mounting and led to animated village council meetings. The reserves were civilian volunteers who typically paid $1,300 each for a uniform and equipment, according to a 2015 Free Press report.

Reznick started to build another force in nearby Waterloo Township, where he had become chief in 2014, simultaneously with his job in Oakley. Just like in the village, he secured donations in the township, too. Waterloo residents expressed concerns, though, then voted down a millage, which led to the shuttering of the police department.

Over in Oakley, the Michigan Municipal League in 2014 canceled the village's insurance over liability concerns, citing issues with the reserve officers and litigation, according to news reports at the time. The council shut down the police department until the village could secure insurance but Reznick, using donations from reserves, bought insurance and reactivated the department — prompting Francis Koski, a trustee at the time, to file a lawsuit, said attorney Philip Ellison, who represented Koski.

Ellison said a Saginaw County Circuit judge ordered the police department be shut down until after an election was held and the new village council could vote on the matter. He said the council voted to restore the department.

The bar owners also took legal action against the village, filing several lawsuits. Among the allegations were police harassment, violation of the state's laws on open meetings and refusing to release the identities of the reserve force members.

Oakley village Trustee Dennis Bitterman and his wife, Shannon, listen to testimony in Shiawassee County Circuit Court in 2015. Jeff Schrier, AP

After a protracted legal fight, the village released the reserve officer documents in 2015. They included the applications filed over time of nearly 150 people who had sought to become reserve officers in the village. Among the applicants to this exclusive force were metro Detroit businessmen, a former prosecutor, a former Detroit Lions player and Detroit musician Kid Rock. Detroit Free Press attorney Herschel Fink was once a reserve officer in Oakley.

Some people complained about the heavy police presence during events. One resident wrote in a complaint to the village that there was an “excessive show of police” during the bike run and at a Halloween event the year before.

“What we have now is over staffed intimidation of the village police department,” the resident wrote in a letter to the village council. “I ask the council what kind of town you want.”

Oakley resident Mike Belanger Sr. told the Free Press recently that he appreciated the police presence. He said a group of officers once came to their house asking whether the noise levels were too high at the nearby bar. He said he thought Reznick did a good job.

“I can’t see anything to say bad about him, really,” Belanger said.

He said that he was "kind of hopeful that Kid Rock would actually come out and do a concert for us."

Couple says former Oakley police chief was good for the village Oakley residents Cathy Belanger and husband Mike Belanger, Sr. discuss their support for former Oakley police chief Robert Reznick. Ryan Garza, Detroit Free Press

Cathy Belanger, his wife, said when Reznick was there, "he was a good guy" and did a lot for the village. Describing how the situation divided the town, she said: "People couldn't go up to the restaurant and talk because there might be someone down there that’s friends with this person and they don’t want to hear anything negative. ... You were just afraid to talk about anything.”

Reznick questioned the criticism of his force, telling the Free Press in 2015 that the reserve officers had undergone background checks, were offered training and had to have concealed pistol licenses before applying.

“Why would people not want doctors, lawyers and businesspeople who have the training to be in town?" he asked then.

But Wolfe recently said he thought Reznick was trying to make up his own rules.

“He wanted control of the whole village,” the trustee said. “It wasn’t the village’s residents’ village. It was his village.”

He said Reznick came to his house once, accusing him of ripping down signs for a Halloween party Reznick had organized in town. Wolfe said he didn't do that, but Reznick screamed at him in front of his family.

Show caption Hide caption Oakley Trustee Norman Wolfe takes a puff of his cigarette while outside of his home in July. “He wanted control of the whole village. It... Oakley Trustee Norman Wolfe takes a puff of his cigarette while outside of his home in July. “He wanted control of the whole village. It wasn’t the village’s residents’ village. It was his village,” Wolfe said about former Chief Reznick, who had a roster of more than 100 volunteer reserve officers. Ryan Garza, Detroit Free Press

"I don't even know how he got the job, truthfully," Wolfe said. "He's not a people person. Bad attitude."

The Free Press reported in 2015 that dozens of reserves were among people who had donated nearly $200,000. Reznick told the newspaper at the time that the money went directly to the village.

Susan Dingo, a village trustee, wrote in a letter of support for Reznick leading up to his sentencing this week that the reserve unit was “made up of amazing guys” who she said told her they just wanted to “help save small town America, and to keep police departments in small villages like Oakley.”

Supporters have said reserve officers, besides their holiday food gifts, made over the village offices and provided needed donations, including to help offset sewer costs for residents. Reznick even raised money for new tires on the village backhoe, used to plow snow.

But Reznick’s reserves got more than just the satisfaction of doing good works.

He provided them with police ID cards and instructions on getting enhanced concealed pistol licenses, which allowed them to carry guns in places otherwise prohibited, like bars, sports stadiums and schools.

The reserves got something else, too: access to Reznick’s fraudulently obtained weaponry.

Guns and ammo

Reznick used his position as police chief to buy firearms, ammunition and other equipment from suppliers at reduced rates, claiming it was all for police work.

That was false, federal prosecutors say. Instead, Reznick sold the goods to the Oakley civilian reserve officers, who had become his “ready and primary customers for firearms, ammunition, police badges, uniforms, and tactical gear,” according to his plea agreement.

According to his plea deal, Reznick also used his position "to facilitate the sale of assault shotguns with the capacity to hold 16 rounds from an out-of-state vendor for some of his customers and thereby enabled the purchasers of those shotguns to evade the federal and state taxes on the transactions."

The government says Reznick ran his scheme for years. Reznick also failed to file several years of tax returns for his personal income and his collections business.

Reznick realized in 2015 that the feds were investigating him, so he filed all the late returns — but underreported his income.

Then in 2017, federal agents raided his home in Swartz Creek and another location, seizing property including guns, bags of cash, documents and hard drives. That marked the end of Reznick’s career in Oakley. After the raid, following Reznick's explosive tenure as chief, the village council decided not to renew his contract.

Officers with the Federal Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives remove guns, documents and other materials from Reznick's Swartz Creek home on Oct. 5, 2017. Terray Sylvester, AP

This year, in March, Reznick pleaded guilty to the federal charges. According to his plea agreement, he will owe more than $124,000 in restitution.

In a news release at the time, federal authorities in Detroit issued rebukes.

Manny Muriel, special agent in charge of Internal Revenue Service Criminal Investigation in Detroit, said Reznick had “dishonored his position as a police chief.” Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms and Explosives (ATF) Special Agent in Charge James Deir said Reznick had “violated the public's trust.”

Matthew Schneider, U.S. Attorney for the Eastern District of Michigan, said those entrusted to enforce the law will be held accountable when they fail to do so.

“Former Police Chief Reznick’s guilty plea demonstrates that no one is above the law in Michigan — and that includes those who enforce the law,” Schneider was quoted saying.

There are no state standards on the conduct of reserve officers in Michigan.

The state agency in charge of regulating police is studying the issue of regulating reserves — an authority the agency gained more than two years ago but has not yet put to use. A Free Press investigation revealed last October that there were more than 3,000 unlicensed volunteer civilians doing police work for agencies across the state, some with little oversight and various levels of training.

Yet in many cases, they look just like regular police officers, with uniforms, badges and guns.

David Harvey — the former executive director of the Michigan Commission on Law Enforcement Standards, the cop-regulating agency — said Reznick “was the poster child for what was wrong with no oversight of police reserves.”

Harvey said police need to do a better job of policing their own and he’s glad Reznick — who will have two felonies on his record — will be barred by law from continuing as a cop.

“Cases like his are not good for law enforcement,” Harvey said. “I’m certainly glad he’s gone.”

Still split in Oakley

Standing in front of his Oakley home recently, Village President Richard Fish said he doesn't believe the community was ever divided.

He said he felt Reznick did "a lot of good while he was here and it's too bad that, you know, it had to go the way it did."

Show caption Hide caption Village President Richard Fish plays with his grandchildren at the village park in July. Fish wrote a letter of support for Reznick ahead of the... Village President Richard Fish plays with his grandchildren at the village park in July. Fish wrote a letter of support for Reznick ahead of the former chief's sentencing in federal court on charges of wire and tax fraud. Fish wrote that it was Reznick's "efforts that got us the beautiful park and playscape along with the local volunteers to put it all together." Ryan Garza, Detroit Free Press

Resident Elaine Perkins said she always found Reznick to be kind and he did good things for the village. She is a former trustee and said Reznick tried to get her to go back on the council, but she said no.

"I knew at that time something was going on. You know, it was too divided," she said. "I had friends on both sides.”

Perkins said she always liked Reznick, but he made mistakes. She described it as feeling "betrayed."

"I was sad to hear that he got wrapped up in such a mess but, hey, you know, you break the law," she said, "you gotta pay.”

Koski, long a vocal opponent of Reznick, said he is disappointed in the charges, feeling they are inadequate, but said: “Maybe he can turn around and get what he deserves, which is prison time."

Reznick's supporters sent more than three dozen character letters to his sentencing judge. They wrote that their friend is embarrassed, has tarnished his reputation and has lost his career. Among the letters are those written by current and former law enforcement officials, a former prosecutor, former Oakley reserves, village officials and Reznick’s children.

Friends and loved ones described him as caring and community oriented.

“Rob is a good man and he is worthy of your mercy," Shiawassee County Sheriff Brian BeGole wrote to the judge.

Dingo, in her letter, said Reznick was dedicated to the residents and showed the village council that “he did things by the book.” She wrote that Reznick used to tell her: “'What’s right is right and the truth will always win in the end.’”

Federal prosecutors wrote in a court filing Reznick violated the public trust to enrich himself and took advantage of “a reserve police officer system, which appears to have lacked any meaningful regulations.”

They say his reserve officers provided him with favors, including rides on a private jet and an $80,000-a-year security director job for a company based in Bloomfield Hills.

“Reznick’s attempt to reframe the reserve program as a wholesome program designed to keep Oakley safe and benefit the community,” federal prosecutors wrote, “is dubious.”

Bitterman — who is in the process of selling the Family Tavern in Oakley — called Reznick a “bully with a badge."

"He's the worst," Bitterman said. "He makes all police look bad."

Today in Oakley, the once-generous donations have dried up. Fish said that has not hurt the community because the money was never designated "for anything that we had to have."

Former Oakley trustee Francis Koski, known commonly as "Fuzz," at the Family Tavern in July. Koski has been a vocal critic of Reznick. Ryan Garza, Detroit Free Press

Most agree things are calmer in the village. On a couple of recent, hot summer days, residents took refuge in the shade of trees, mowed their lawns and tipped back cold beers at the tavern.

Koski, better known around town as "Fuzz," was there one night. Despite the disputes, he said, they're all still neighbors and he'll treat everyone that way. The 59-year-old said he has always lived in Oakley.

"It's my turn to get old," Koski said.

And what better place.

“I still love this town," he said. "I’m gonna live here the rest of my entire life.”