Highlands County: Where Justice Is Just a Business
Welcome to Highlands County: Where Justice Is Just a Business
By Amber Hwang
(The following stories are drawn from real accounts shared by inmates, attorneys, and residents of Highlands County. They reflect lived experiences and perspectives gathered over time.)
In the heart of Florida lies a small, unassuming community where the law doesn’t serve the people—it profits from them. Highlands County has become a cautionary tale of what happens when those entrusted with justice twist it into an economic engine. This is not just one story. It is many. It is mine. It is Jose's. It is Leo’s, James’s, Forrest’s, Morris’s, and countless others'. What they all share is not just pain—but betrayal at the hands of a system that was supposed to protect them.
False Allegations, Real Consequences
It started with a simple accusation. In my husband’s case, Jose Nieves, it was a trumped-up charge about failing to register a vehicle that wasn’t his. Law enforcement raided our home based on a warrant signed by Judge Anthony L. Ritenour—who happens to be the uncle of Detective Steven Ritenour's supervisor, Lt. Ritenour. That's not justice. That’s nepotism.
Jose had done nothing wrong. But in Highlands County, innocence doesn’t stop the machine. It fuels it. Because once you’re accused, you’re in the pipeline.
And if you dare speak out—like I did as a disabled female veteran—you're next. They told me to leave the county or they'd come after me too. They didn't care about my military service. They didn’t care about the truth. They cared that I stood up for my husband and wouldn’t stay silent.
An Ecosystem of Oppression
Highlands County doesn’t just lock people up—it feeds on them.
The Jail is overfilled, consistently lacking enough beds.
Phone calls cost up to $15 for 15 minutes.
Commissary prices are inflated by 300–500%.
Privileges behind bars are bought, traded, or withheld like currency.
Bail is strategically set just high enough to force deals.
Lawyers, judges, and bail bondsmen all play their part in this economy.
Many residents don’t realize the depth of the collusion. The same lawyers represent multiple defendants in rigged plea deals. Public defenders are overloaded and under-incentivized. If you want real justice, you’d better have real money. If you don’t, they’ll bury you—figuratively and sometimes literally.
Ramos Roundup: The Election Stunt That Destroyed Lives
Detective Ramos ran a “Roundup” on July 31, 2024—just weeks before the primary election. Thirty-one sex offenders were arrested in a stunt to drum up political favor and secure re-election endorsements. Among them were:
Leo Davis, arrested for a trailer that wasn’t his. Ramos delayed giving him the required registration information, then arrested him once the window had passed.
Dontaz Loury, arrested for not registering a phone app—based on a search Ramos admitted had no probable cause.
James R. May, whose case was split into two sets of charges, manipulated so he couldn't use the same lawyer for all of them. The DA insisted on no less than 13 years for a technicality involving his daughter’s car—even though he’s 60 and had already served 30 years.
It was never about public safety. It was about appearances, promotions, and politics. And people paid the price.
Milk Crates and Manufactured Crimes
Then there’s the bizarre pattern of “milk crate” violations—a made-up charge used to pad arrest stats and justify probation violations. Among those ensnared:
Joseph Shatraw, who was arrested and charged with possession of a milk crate.
Forrest Clay Silas, who spent over $18,000 on legal defense and still received four years of probation… for the same fabricated violation.
These aren’t anomalies. They are patterns.
Targeting the Defenseless—and the Defiant
Highlands County preys on the vulnerable—especially those on probation or the sex offender registry. Conditions are so strict that even minor infractions, like missing an address update or using an app not explicitly cleared, are treated like new felonies.
But they also target the defiant. People who won’t play along. People like me.
When I began documenting what they were doing—when I refused to be silenced—they made it clear: if they could fabricate something, anything, to charge me, they would. They threatened me with prison if I helped my husband comply with his complicated probation requirements. My crime? Trying to support the man I love.
A Family Business Masquerading as Law Enforcement
This isn’t just about bad cops. It’s about a family-run enterprise using the justice system as a tool of control and enrichment:
Detective Ramos is repeatedly tied to questionable arrests and unconstitutional searches.
Judge Anthony Ritenour has signed numerous warrants tied to cases involving his own relatives.
Lt. Ritenour, Detective Ramos's supervisor, signs off on every arrest that keeps this machine going.
It's a network. A racket. A revolving door of entrapment, extortion, and institutional abuse.
The Lie of Rehabilitation
They say the system reforms people. But in Highlands County:
Probation is a trap with impossible conditions.
Minor violations are leveraged into new charges and longer sentences.
Resources for genuine rehabilitation are minimal at best.
If you’re trying to change, they don’t help. They punish. Because keeping you in the loop means money in their pockets.
This Is Not Justice. This Is a Business.
My husband isn’t a threat. Leo Davis isn’t a threat. Morris Keith Anderson, arrested outside Highlands County’s jurisdiction, isn’t a threat. They are just names on a list. Quotas to be met. Beds to be filled. Stories to be buried.
But not anymore.
This Blog Is the Beginning of the End
You’re reading this because you know something is wrong. Maybe it happened to someone you love. Maybe you're afraid it will happen to you. Or maybe, like me, you believe in truth.
This is not just a blog. This is Project White Pill—a platform to expose injustice, empower victims, and challenge the lies.
If you’ve taken the white pill—if your eyes are open—welcome. You're not alone.
The content shared on this blog is based on personal experiences and direct reports collected from individuals involved in or affected by the Highlands County justice system. These include inmates, their families, local attorneys, and concerned residents. While every effort has been made to present these narratives truthfully and accurately, certain details may reflect the perspective of those interviewed or involved, and may not yet be publicly verified through official channels.
This blog does not offer legal conclusions. Rather, it seeks to raise awareness, identify systemic patterns, and give voice to individuals who may otherwise go unheard. Readers are encouraged to approach this material with an open mind, perform their own research, and consider the broader context in which these events occurred.
Nothing in this blog is intended to defame or misrepresent any individual or agency. It is a platform for advocacy, truth-telling, and accountability.
