{"slice_names":["facebook_like","facebook","twitter","googleshare","email","comments"],"slice_params":{"facebook_like":[],"facebook":{"share_amount":"530"},"twitter":{"short_url":"http:\/\/huff.to\/QImGjl","tweet_text":"How The Pursuit Of Animal Rights Activists Became Among The FBI's 'Highest Domestic Terrorism Priorities'","views_amount":"126"},"googleshare":[],"email":{"emails_amount":"18","emails_title":"How The Pursuit Of Animal Liberation Activists Became Among The FBI's 'Highest Domestic Terrorism Priorities'","emails_text":"On January 16, 2006, two federal agents pulled off of Oregon's Route 66 and onto a dirt road in the Southern Cascades, about nineteen miles northeast of downtown Ashland. They didn't get far. There was a blizzard, and the road was buried in snow. The agents were forced to stop just a couple miles short of their destination.\n\nOn most winter mornings, the road that forced the agents' retreat was plowed by Jonathan Paul, a tall, broad-shouldered, 39 year-old volunteer firefighter with a shaved head and a soul patch. Paul had gotten off to a late start that day; it was nearly time for lunch. While the FBI agents sat in their stalled vehicle, Paul climbed into his snow plow, which he kept parked beside his fire truck in the garage next to the solar-powered house where he lived with his wife and three dogs. At the intersection with Route 66, the agents watched as Paul pulled up the road and drove past them. They turned their car around and followed him onto the mountain highway.\n\nFive minutes later, Paul pulled into the parking lot of the Green Springs Inn to order one of the few vegan items on the menu of the only restaurant in the area. The FBI vehicle pulled in behind him, and the agents followed Paul inside. One of them flashed his badge, and Paul knew at once that a nearly nine year-old crime had finally and inevitably caught up to him.\n\n