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I am Tony Baye

by R. Joshua Mobley | Jan 17, 2010 1:12 am

Posted to: Police and Fire

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It was well after midnight in the early hours of 2010, nearing three in the morning. An after-hours party had manifested at the tiny two-bedroom downtown apartment I share with my wife Jessica, and revelry and libations were abundant.

We did not worry about the neighbors (many of whom were present) or whether or not there was enough alcohol to go around.

What mattered to the forty-strong crowd was that we were there, safe, shedding the tired, cracked burden of the Aughts—a decade that began with the “hanging chads” of Florida and ended with our quiet little “Paradise City” being held hostage at the hands of a serial arsonist.

Our best friends were there, some familiar strangers… and Tony Baye.

Tony Baye.

A name now synonymous with fire, terror, fear, confusion, and anger.

But I called him “Tone-Loc.” A high-five, man-hug or fist bump always followed his Cheshire cat grin. I met him at a party a few years back; a party very much like this one.

He and I possessed that infectious rapport of poet-charlatans. We finished each other’s jokes, ogled at passing lasses, and spat Red Sox jargon.

Tony was cool.

Although I was nearly ten years his senior, I looked up to him. He had the bravado and confidence that men needed and women wanted.

His pretty-boy looks and egalitarian charm allowed those who flocked to his side the freedom to be themselves. He was a lover of life.

It is not my place to speculate upon whether Tony was the culprit of some fifteen arson incidents, or the purveyor of two tragic deaths occuring on the morning of an unseasonably wet and balmy December 27th. It is also not my place to try to “paint a picture” of the 25-year-old Northampton native. I was not his Little League coach, high school teacher, best friend, or co-worker. In fact, I didn’t really know him well.

But we, as a community knew him. A sum of the parts we are, and Tony was the squeaky wheel.

*

The city’s reaction was threefold upon hearing the news of Tony’s arrest on the morning of January 5th:

1) From those who knew him – shock.

“My jaw dropped, my heart sank and I felt numb. He is such a sweet guy with a great heart. In fact, days after his arrest a fairly affluent member of the Granby community who employed Tony very briefly and only knew him a short time was willing to set up a legal fund in his defense. The whole thing is just so sad.” – Jenna Ziemba, friend and co-worker of Tony’s.

2) From many of those who did not – either a “lynch mob” mentality or relief.

“This is a tragedy for all involved. If it is discovered that this “Aspiring Rap Star” is linked with physical evidence he should be hanged on the town common!!!!!!! Or just burned like his victims……………….” – posted by realityflash from MassLive.com

“THANKS TO ALL THE INVESTIGATORS AND OTHERS INVOLVED THAT WORKED DAY AND NIGHT TO SOLVE THIS CASE!” – posted by mn09117 from MassLive.com

3) From those who focused on the community at large rather than on Tony’s guilt or innocence, who garnered support for the arson victims and defended justice and due process for the accused – hope and sympathy.

“The presumption of innocence is a legal right of the accused in criminal trials. It places the burden of proof is on the prosecution.”

“OUTSIDE of a criminal trial, citizens can freely speculate and presume all we want. We CANNOT pursue vigilante justice, but we are free to believe someone is guilty based upon what we’ve seen, read, and think.”

“Of course, my sympathies go out to everyone hurt by the fires, including the Baye family and, if he is innocent, Tony Baye. If he’s guilty, I can still muster some small sympathy.” – posts from the Facebook group Friends Of Northampton’s Arson Victims.

*

The morning of his arraignment, our cell phones turned to alarm clocks. My wife and I stumbled through a haze of disbelief. We searched the Internet for the most updated story, hit refresh, made coffee and watched the television. Upon the first glimpses of a grey-cloaked scruffy haired “Tone-Loc” being escorted into Northampton’s courthouse, my wife cried and I vacantly stared into my light cream heavy sugar.

Hours passed and I realized that just a few days ago, amidst the clamor of a new year’s toast, Tony was standing right here, in front of our fridge. Exactly where I was standing now while we watched our handcuffed friend exit the free world.

I made a light breakfast and Jessica went back to sleep – a defense mechanism against stress. She worked with Tony at Sierra Grille and always enjoyed the shifts that they shared. I decided to walk the streets of Northampton, hoping it would look different.

I shuffled along, my head swirling in a profusion of emotions. The passersby who all were once suspects in those unsettling days after the fires walked past me; almost every overheard conversation that trailed behind them had the key words of “they caught him” and “arsonist” and “Tony.”

Tony. Anthony Baye. Tone-Loc.

I sat down on a bench and thought of him. I thought of his mother. I thought of the handful of friends I knew that grew up with him.

A friend walked by chatting on his cell phone. His face was animated, as he was most likely reiterating to whomever was on the other end the morning news. He noticed me on the bench and mouthed ‘crazy, huh’ as he walked on by.

Crazy, huh.

Soon thereafter a police officer walked by. Cops. Generally my reaction is to not make eye contact, look the other way, and cross the street. But this morning, something inside of me said out loud, “Good job.” He tipped his hat and walked on.

Why did I say that?

Was I part of the aforementioned category two? Relief? In a way, I supposed I was. I lived in the midst of the deadly blazes, my six-year-old son even closer.

But what if Tony was innocent? In just the few hours since his arraignment I heard so many conflicting reports: first that he confessed to lighting the fire on the porch of 17 Fair Street, and then that he pled innocent in court.

I heard several times that he was pulled over in the vicinity of the fires smelling of alcohol and soaked in water. It was raining and it was after the 2 a.m. last call. Anyone who was out in the rain for more than a minute and had been at any of the dozens of bars in town could have been regarded as a suspect.

Both Mayor Clare Higgins and District Attorney Elizabeth Scheibel stated that arson is an extremely difficult crime to crack, with only 11% of all cases being solved nationwide. So given that statistic, how did they come to arrest Tony a mere eight days after that fateful evening? Is law enforcement in this area really that good?

I toiled over these questions then as I do today. The who, what, why, when and where will trouble us for the next couple of months before his next court date, and perhaps months after.

My heart is still heavy, and only the passage of time may make it lighter.

Who are you, Tony?

Who are we, Tony?

Next to the bench, spray-painted in enthusiastic yellow on the side of a Main Street mailbox, were the words We Are Who We Are. That seemed to do just fine for now.

—R. Joshua Mobley

Tags: Tony Baye, arson, fires

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