Staff Reports
In a truly baffling turn of events reminiscent of a bad crime drama, a couple from California found themselves at the mercy of Indiana law enforcement without ever stepping foot in the state. Henry and Minh Cheng, seasoned players in the wholesale jewelry market, discovered that their legitimate business transactions could lead to government overreach of unparalleled absurdity. The couple’s nightmare began when an innocent cash shipment for a customer in Virginia crossed through an Indianapolis FedEx hub.
The saga started early in 2024 when the Chengs made a bulk sale, which was to be paid in cash. Instead of completing a routine transaction, the money was intercepted by law enforcement officers who seemed to be on a mission to seize cash like a kid in a candy store. Without any evidence of wrongdoing, the Marion County Prosecutor’s Office moved forward with a civil forfeiture action, claiming the money was linked to criminal activity—without specifying any crime at all. This episode raises a critical question: since when did the mere existence of cash make one a potential criminal?
How the State of #Indiana Stole $42,000 From a Couple Without Ever Charging Them With a Crime #CivilAssetForfeiture https://t.co/vGcTSCUOvY
— ✝️🐶Otrantos_Castle 🇺🇸 🇮🇱🐈🦮 (@Trontys_Castle) August 13, 2024
The Institute for Justice has pointed out that this seizure is not an isolated incident but rather part of a broader, alarming trend at the FedEx hub in Indianapolis. Law enforcement has allegedly taken millions in transit since 2022, simply by running parcels past K-9 units. If a dog barks or alerts, cash is seized without a second thought, placing innocent business owners in legal limbo. Imagine being accused of a crime you didn’t commit, all because your package traveled through a specific state. The Chengs are now fighting to reclaim over $42,000 that was seized from their business under the dubious premise of supposed criminality.
The state’s claims about the money’s connection to criminal activity lack both substantive evidence and specificity. This raises a crucial issue: if the authorities cannot even pinpoint a specific crime linked to the seized funds, what gives them the right to confiscate hard-earned money from law-abiding citizens? The Chengs are left to navigate complex legal waters, trying to prove their innocence in a system designed to penalize them simply for existing in a bygone era of liberty.
Problems surrounding civil asset forfeiture go beyond the Cheng's case; they expose a systemic issue where local and state governments seem more inclined to pad their budgets than to protect the rights of their citizens. The ethics of seizing property without a clear connection to criminality opens the floodgates for misuse and abuse, turning this practice into a revenue-generating scheme. After all, who needs criminals when you can treat your citizens like them?
In a country that prides itself on due process and justice, the Chengs’ harrowing experience epitomizes the need for reform to prevent power-hungry bureaucrats from targeting the innocent and exploiting legal loopholes. Their fight is not just about retrieving their funds; it is a battle against a government that has forgotten its founding principles in the pursuit of unchecked authority.
