The New New

To Combat Thieves, Farmers are Spraying their Goods with an Invisible, Data-Encrypted Liquid

But is SMARTWATER CSI just ‘scientific hogwash’?

Jessica Pishko
OneZero
Published in
15 min readNov 29, 2018
All photos by Alex Welsh

ItIt started about two years ago, when David Machado was held up at gunpoint. He was working in his shop in Tulare, the county seat of Tulare County, California, when he heard the house alarm go off. He jogged to the home he shares with his wife and saw a car parked out front. Initially, he thought the car belonged to a friend. Perhaps someone had accidentally pushed open the front door, which had a faulty latch. He went around to the back door and turned off the alarm. Then he heard the car horn.

‘Shoot his ass! Shoot his ass!” After a few tense moments, the men jumped into the car and left.

Walking back outside, Machado said he confronted three men. One pointed a gun at his chest. “I just went like this,” Machado said, lifting his empty hands in the air, “and the guy standing behind him says, ‘Shoot his ass! Shoot his ass!” After a few tense moments, the men jumped into the car and left. They only got one thing: a rosary that belonged to Machado’s grandmother-in-law.

Machado has carried a pistol ever since, but the break-ins have only increased. Once, he said, he and his wife had just returned from watching his grandchildren in a Christmas program when he heard someone throw a large stone through a bedroom window. Two men were trying to crawl in through the broken glass. Machado fired a shot into the ground to scare them away.

About a week after that, he said someone kicked down the back door and stole an air rifle. He trailed the thief around town, until he lost sight of him. “We had five incidents in about two months,” explained Machado, a compact but sprightly man with a neatly trimmed gray beard, weathered face, and quick smile.

After yet another break-in, during which someone tore open the metal wall of his farm’s workshop, Machado’s friend in the Tulare County District Attorney’s Office called him and said, “Hey, we gotta do something. This is getting old.” Machado agreed.

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