THE 120-HOUR MAN: Why the VIPD’s ‘Watchman’ is Too Busy Selling Ads to Tell the Truth
THE CAT WHO SWALLOWED THE CANARY: VIPD Communications Director Glen Dratte appears to be suppressing a smile in this shot, perhaps because the joke is on the public. While St. Croix residents are told to walk in "packs" for safety, Dratte has successfully cornered the market on institutional silence—collecting a King’s Ransom in multiple salaries while playing "Cable Guy" at his own press conferences. For the "Watchman" who answers to a pardoned media mogul, Dratte’s “caseload” is apparently a laughing matter.
By JOHN McCARTHY / St. Croix Sun Investigative Reporter
ST. CROIX — In the high-stakes world of law enforcement, clarity is everything. But in the U.S. Virgin Islands, the man responsible for that clarity—VIPD Communications Director Glen Dratte—appears to be the busiest man in the Caribbean. So busy, in fact, that he may have actually conquered the biological need for sleep.
If you believe the official payrolls, Dratte is successfully juggling three full-time roles. Between his 80-hour commitment to the VIPD and the V.I. Consortium, and his 20-hour on-air stint for WJKC-95.1 FM (Isle 95), the math is already terminal. But add in the additional 20 hours a week required to "voice" advertisements for station owner Jonathan Cohen, and Dratte hits a staggering 120 hours of work per week.
Fit those 120 hours into a standard five-day workweek, and you are left with exactly zero hours for sleep, food, or a commute. Even a relentless workhorse like Elon Musk—who is reportedly eyeing a move to St. Croix just to escape the mainland's red tape—would tell you that 24 hours of labor per day is a physical impossibility.
Birds of a Feather
The question isn't just how Dratte works these hours, but who he works them for. Dratte and Jonathan Cohen (JKC) are "birds of a feather" who have nested together in the local media landscape since the 1990s. This isn't just a side hustle; it’s a decades-long financial dependence.
It is a bitter irony that the public face of law enforcement in the territory draws a private paycheck from a man like Cohen. In 2018, Cohen avoided a federal prison sentence for failing to pay taxes on over $10 million in revenue only because former Governor Kenneth Mapp issued a last-minute pardon. When the "Watchman" is fed by a man who represents the height of executive-clemency-fueled lawlessness, the message itself becomes a casualty.
Can a VIPD detective in the Economic Crimes Unit truly feel "free" to investigate a recidivist tax evader when that mogul’s longtime associate sits in the inner sanctum of the Police Commissioner’s office?
The Silent Director
The staggering workload associated with this "King’s Ransom" salary has produced a bizarre paradox in leadership performance. Despite being the designated "voice" of the VIPD, the Communications Director is consistently absent from the podium during critical public briefings. While officials like Naomi Joseph and Uston Cornelius address the community on serious matters, such as the Peter’s Rest homicide, the department’s chief spokesperson remains silent.
On the rare occasions the VIPD holds a live, on-the-record press conference, the Director’s presence is relegated to the periphery. Instead of managing the message, he is often seen performing the duties of a low-level AV technician—fiddling with cables and adjusting microphones. It is a striking irony: the public pays a premium for strategic communication, yet receives the services of a stagehand.
Whether this retreat into technical labor is a result of being "fried" by an unsustainable schedule or a deliberate tactic to avoid public accountability, the result remains the same. The VIPD has a Communications Director who appears more comfortable with the mute button than the microphone, leaving the public to wonder why they are funding a high-level executive to do the work of a cable technician.
The Cost of Dratte’s Silence
While Dratte is busy adjusting wires and selling radio ads, the community is paying the price for his silence. It is a grim tableau: CIB Commander Naomi Joseph recently advised St. Croix women to walk in "packs" for their own safety—a haunting admission that the police have lost the streets.
This infrastructure of silence extends to the highest levels. Under Dratte, the VIPD public relations office has remained virtually mum on the federal corruption conviction of former Commissioner Ray Martinez. And for the families of those missing, like Sarm Heslop, the PIO’s silence isn't just a professional lapse—it’s a conscience-piercing tragedy.
When the man paid to keep us informed is too "tired" to speak, and too compromised by his "lawless" benefactors to tell the truth, the public is left in the dark. We don't need a cable guy; we need a Watchman who isn't also selling the ads.
