In the quiet rural expanse of Ashe County, North Carolina, a storm of controversy erupted in May 2025 when the Sheriff’s Office abruptly shuttered its online presence. The decision came on the heels of a court-ordered release of body camera footage from a September 2024 traffic stop that ended in tragedy.
The videos, which captured the final moments of 48-year-old Stuart Chad Mast’s life, sparked widespread outrage and plunged the community into a heated debate about transparency, accountability, and the role of law enforcement.
Sheriff Phil Howell confirmed to local media that the department’s website and social media accounts were temporarily made private to weather the deluge of public feedback, though he offered no timeline for their return. This move, intended to shield the office from scrutiny, only amplified questions about what the footage revealed and why the department seemed so reluctant to face the public’s gaze.
The incident that set this chain of events in motion unfolded just before 1 a.m. on September 13, 2024, when deputies attempted to pull over Mast for an expired tag while he rode his motorcycle along a desolate stretch of NC Highway 88. According to reports, Mast initially failed to stop, prompting a brief pursuit that ended near Sheets Bridge.
What followed, as shown in the newly public body camera footage, was a rapid escalation. Deputies forcibly removed Mast from his motorcycle while he struggled to detach a safety cord tethered to an inflatable vest. The vest, designed to cushion a rider in a crash, deployed as Mast was tackled to the ground, compounding the pressure on his torso as deputies pinned him down.
In one chilling moment, a deputy can be heard saying, “I’m going to choke you out, you hear me?”—a statement that has since become a focal point of public fury. Mast, handcuffed and unresponsive, was pronounced dead at Ashe Memorial Hospital shortly after.The release of the footage, secured through a petition by WBTV’s Chief Investigative Reporter Nick Ochsner despite Sheriff Howell’s opposition, has laid bare the grief and frustration of Mast’s family.
Mike Mast, Stuart’s brother, spoke candidly about the loss, emphasizing the lack of answers in the months following the incident. “If he’d been up against anyone else—construction workers, astronauts—he’d still be alive,” Mike told WBTV, his voice heavy with sorrow. “But he was up against three deputies, and now he’s gone.” The family’s pleas for clarity went largely unanswered until the videos were made public, revealing not only the physical confrontation but also the emotional toll of a system that seemed to prioritize silence over openness.
Mike’s words resonate with a community grappling with the reality that those entrusted with public safety could be involved in such a devastating outcome.Adding to the complexity, an Ashe County grand jury declined to press charges against the three deputies involved—identified as Cody Call, Jacob Bledsoe, and Jacob Pruitt—on May 2, 2025, following a review by Watauga County District Attorney Seth Banks.
The decision, coupled with the revelation that none of the deputies faced disciplinary action, has fueled accusations of a cover-up. An autopsy report, released in March 2025, ruled Mast’s death a homicide caused by “compression asphyxia of the torso and neck,” with methamphetamine intoxication and heart disease listed as contributing factors.
Yet, the lack of accountability has left many, including Mast’s family, questioning the integrity of the process. “It’s not transparent,” Mike Mast said, echoing a sentiment shared by those who see the Sheriff’s Office’s digital blackout as an attempt to evade responsibility rather than engage with a grieving community.As Ashe County navigates the fallout, the incident has become a flashpoint for broader discussions about law enforcement practices and the power of public access to information.
The body camera footage, totaling over 35 minutes across three perspectives, offers a raw and unfiltered look at a moment that forever altered the lives of Mast’s loved ones. For Mike Mast, the fight is far from over. His call for justice—“You can’t just go around killing folks because you’ve got a badge”—is a plea not only for his brother but for a system that values human life over institutional protection. As the Sheriff’s Office remains offline, the community waits for answers, wondering whether true transparency will ever emerge from the shadows of that fateful September night.