"'60 Minutes' has called, 'Dateline' has called, '20/20' has already been here and filmed," said Lance Block, the attorney for the Hoffman family. " Rolling Stone was here to do a story. I can't tell you how many media representatives have called me. Agents, people that want to do books I don't have enough time in the day for it all."
Block is utilizing the services of Ron Sachs Communications, a public relations firm in Tallahassee.
case might create a fire storm throughout the nation because of who she was. Or more to the point, who she wasn't.
Hoffman wasn't facing serious jail time. She wasn't male. She wasn't uneducated, and she wasn't a minority.
"No one is going to ignore this. I can promise you that."
She wouldn't go to jail for the less than half a pound of marijuana and handful of Ecstasy tabs police had found when they busted her at her apartment in April and asked her to become a confidential informant. She wouldn't get in trouble for violating the terms of her court-ordered drug diversion program. Her parents wouldn't find out.
Hoffman wanted to watch her own real-life drama go down. Her friend Liza agreed to be there May 7 to shoot video when the bust happened. Except the planned buy at Forestmeadows Park was derailed and no video was shot.
Immediately after Tallahassee police raided her apartment April 17, Hoffman went to her boyfriend's house and told him about the deal she'd cut. Over the next three weeks, she would tell him and Liza all about her work as a confidential informant.
"They wanted her to turn in her friends, and she wouldn't do that," said Liza, a 24-year-old FSU graduate student. "She said she wanted to get some grimy people off the street. She wanted to get bad guys."
At first she agreed to give up a guy she knew who dealt drugs and sometimes bought pot from her, her friends said. But after one controlled call from the police station, she confessed to him she was working for the police and asked him to help her find someone else to turn in.
Toward the end of April, she was set to go back to the area of the detailing shop, this time wired by police. Liza was ready with the video camera so Hoffman could see for herself what happened. She was planning to write a book about her life.
Hoffman's boyfriend said he drove her to her usual weekly drug test, which she passed by cheating with the help of The Whizzinator tucked under her skirt.
Hoffman, her friends said, sent between 50 and 100 text messages a day. The day of the controlled bust was no different.
At 6:34 p.m., she messaged her boyfriend: "I just got wired up. Wish me luck. I'm on my way."
At 6:34 p.m., she messaged her boyfriend: "I just got wired up. Wish me luck. I'm on my way."
Then, at 6:47 p.m., Liza received Hoffman's last message, calling off the video her friend was set to make of the SWAT team charging in: "It's far. I'll call you after."
The usual suspects,
Maybe she couldn't follow police instructions because she was loaded. I wonder if the Hoffman family will sue her boyfriend?