You Will Shoot Your Eye Out

A Connecticut homeowner called state authorities after shooting a black bear in his backyard.

Now he is facing a criminal charge.

Michael Gero, 39, told investigators the bear had broken into an enclosure and killed several chickens. He reportedly saw the bear eating one before he fired.

Gero also believes the same bear killed his goats in August, according to WFSB.

He Reported the Shooting

The incident happened Friday at Gero’s property in Granby.

Gero contacted the Connecticut Department of Energy and Environmental Protection after killing the animal. Environmental Conservation Police investigated and cited him for illegally taking a black bear.

The charge may carry up to 30 days in jail and a $500 fine for a first offense under Connecticut law.

Gero is expected to appear in Torrington Superior Court in early October.

This was not his first close encounter with a bear.

WFSB interviewed Gero in 2024 after another bear attacked one of his goats. Gero said he struck that animal with a branch and chased it into the woods.

Connecticut Law Draws a Fine Line

Connecticut law allows someone to kill a bear when that person reasonably believes it threatens serious bodily harm to a human.

Deadly force is also allowed when a bear attacks a legally controlled pet or enters an occupied building.

However, chickens and goats kept as livestock do not necessarily qualify as protected pets under that provision.

State law instead directs livestock owners toward Connecticut’s agricultural damage permit process. That process requires property owners to try nonlethal measures first.

They must then consult a DEEP wildlife biologist. The agency must approve a permit before the owner can legally kill a damaging bear.

That distinction sits at the center of the controversy.

The bear was reportedly inside Gero’s enclosure and actively feeding on one of his chickens. Yet the law appears to treat that situation differently from an attack on a household pet.

Residents Question the Charge

The case drew thousands of comments after WFSB shared it online. Many commenters argued that Gero should have been allowed to protect his animals on his property.

Granby Town Manager Mike Walsh also expressed sympathy for Gero. He suggested lawmakers should review the statute and that DEEP should provide communities with better guidance.

DEEP said the bear was not tagged and that the agency knew of no other reported attacks connected to it.

The facts will now move into court. The larger question may eventually land with state lawmakers: How long must a property owner wait while a bear kills his livestock?

A retired two-star Air Force general walks out of his Albuquerque home without his phone or glasses. He leaves behind plans for an upcoming ski trip. Then he disappears for more than seven months.

Cue the flashlights, desert sky and low X-Files synth.

Unfortunately, this is not television. William “Neil” McCasland remains the subject of an active missing-person investigation, and the known facts leave far more questions than answers.

A One-Hour Window

McCasland, 68, disappeared from his home near Quail Run Court in northeast Albuquerque on February 27.

Investigators say a repairman interacted with him around 10 a.m. McCasland’s wife left for an appointment at approximately 11:10 a.m. When she returned at 12:04 p.m., he was gone.

That leaves a remarkably small window.

His phone, prescription glasses and wearable devices remained inside the house. Investigators later said his wallet, red backpack, .38-caliber revolver and leather holster remained unaccounted for.

Newly released body-camera footage obtained by KRQE adds another layer.

McCasland’s wife told deputies he had taken a prescribed medication the previous night. That morning, he reportedly described feeling foggy, almost like the aftermath of a bad hangover.

She also showed deputies food, drinks and supplies he had assembled for an upcoming backcountry ski trip with 17 friends. In other words, his home looked like the home of someone planning to return.

So why leave?

Why switch off the phone? Why leave the glasses? And, why walk away during a one-hour window? And what, if anything, should investigators make of the missing revolver?

An Experienced Outdoorsman Leaves No Trail

McCasland was not someone unfamiliar with the New Mexico backcountry. Friends and relatives described him as active, physically capable and comfortable outdoors.

That should have helped searchers. Instead, it made the mystery stranger.

Authorities canvassed more than 700 homes. Search teams used dogs, drones, helicopters and infrared equipment across the foothills and surrounding canyons. The FBI also assisted with interviews, surveillance review and analysis.

The terrain did not cooperate. Warm rocks complicated infrared searches, while cliffs, ravines and hidden pockets created countless places that could conceal an injured person.

Searchers found a gray Air Force sweatshirt about 1.25 miles east of McCasland’s home. Testing reportedly found no blood, and his family could not confirm that it belonged to him. Investigators searched the surrounding area anyway.

No confirmed sighting followed. No obvious trail appeared. Authorities said they had found no evidence pointing to foul play, although they had not ruled anything out.

As of October 1, the Bernalillo County Sheriff’s Office still lists McCasland as missing.

Then There Is the UAP Connection

This is where the spooky music gets louder.

McCasland was no ordinary retiree. He earned a doctorate in astronautical engineering from MIT and held senior positions involving space systems, classified programs and advanced military research.

From 2011 until his 2013 retirement, he commanded the Air Force Research Laboratory at Wright-Patterson Air Force Base. He oversaw thousands of employees and billions of dollars in research and development. Before that, he served as the Pentagon’s director of special programs and held leadership roles involving space acquisition and the National Reconnaissance Office.

Wright-Patterson also occupies prime real estate in American UFO lore. For decades, believers have claimed the government moved material recovered near Roswell to the Ohio installation.

That history alone would attract speculation. McCasland’s connection to Tom DeLonge poured rocket fuel on it.

In a 2016 email to Hillary Clinton campaign chairman John Podesta, DeLonge claimed he had worked with McCasland for four months. DeLonge also claimed McCasland helped assemble an advisory team for his UFO-related project.

That email proves DeLonge made the claims. It does not prove McCasland possessed alien hardware, extraterrestrial secrets or a reserved parking spot aboard the mothership.

McCasland’s wife later said he briefly served as an unpaid consultant for DeLonge’s organization. According to her, he offered military and technical guidance to make DeLonge’s fiction and media projects more realistic.

She also said her husband had no special knowledge about UFO bodies or Roswell debris. He had been retired for nearly 13 years, she noted, making his old classified knowledge increasingly dated.

She even joked that aliens might be the best remaining explanation, while noting that nobody reported a mothership over the Sandia Mountains.

That is probably the healthiest way to handle the UFO angle: acknowledge it, smile at it and demand evidence before believing it.

What Actually Happened?

The ordinary possibilities remain troubling enough.

Did McCasland suffer an unexpected reaction to medication and become disoriented?
Did something happen in the rugged terrain beyond his neighborhood?
Did he deliberately leave and take steps to avoid being tracked?
Does the missing revolver point toward a personal crisis, or is it simply another item investigators cannot locate?
Did someone pick him up beyond the view of nearby cameras?
Or does another person know what happened during that narrow window?

Then comes the question guaranteed to divide readers: Does McCasland’s history with classified aerospace programs and the UAP community deserve serious consideration? Or does it merely make a heartbreaking missing-person case irresistible to the internet?

Seven months later, the public still has no satisfying answer. An accomplished general, scientist and outdoorsman apparently walked away from a life filled with plans. Despite aircraft, dogs, surveillance footage, federal assistance and hundreds of tips, he seemingly left no confirmed trail.

That is strange enough without adding aliens.

Still, this case practically invites questions. What detail stands out to you? The phone and glasses? The medication? The prepared ski supplies? The missing gun? His classified background? Or the complete absence of a confirmed sighting?

What say you?

Anyone with information can contact the Bernalillo County Sheriff’s Office Missing Persons Unit at 505-468-7070. Anonymous tips may be submitted by texting BCSO and the information to 847411.