An Oldie But a Goodie

This is for my friend and mentor, the Angel of Death. Thanks for always pointing me in the right direction even if you don't know it.

So I'm a young P-II dog as we call it, or a regular police officer. Slick sleeves. No stripes, no hashmarks on the sleeve to show any kind of rank or noticeable time on the job yet. I'm out there trying to make my bones. I'm working a specialized Z car detail in The Jungles, hunting for the bad guys. Z car means we are on special detail (permanent until further notice in this case). The folks in the unit, well, we only handle the calls that come out in the Jungles. No other calls, no nonsense. We drum up our own business and catch what we clean that comes out of our assigned area.

The Jungles. Chief Bratton specifically ordered us to refer to it as "Lower Baldwin Village." But all the locals call it The Jungles. Not because it was particularly overgrown. Not because the population was historically minority, specifically African-American. No. Not because of that.

Because it was once beautiful. A verdant, leafy oasis for working-class folks in the heart of a residential area, bordered by Crenshaw and MLK Blvd. Scant blocks away from where the body of the Black Dahlia was found. A collection of apartments just below the hills of The Dons, The Black Beverly Hills. Apartment living with a pool in the courtyard of every building! Just under one square mile of living close to everything! Minutes from downtown! Minutes to the airport! Flora and fauna as far as the eye could see and the southern crown? Jim Gilliam Park, named after a Negro League and Major League Baseball (Dodgers) player and coach who died to young.

Well...fast forward to 2005. Lower Baldwin Village is now heavily entrenched with Black P-Stone Gangmembers (look it up on wikipedia http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Black_P._Stones ) The apartments are mostly Section 8 now. Most of the pools are filled in with concrete, dirt and beer bottles.

I'm working with my longtime partner, we'll call him Jack. Jack and I are wrapping up for the night, about 0100 hours, heading eastbound August toward Santa Rosalia. We see a young male on the south sidewalk, travelling westbound. Riding on the sidewalk. No-no. Cant' do that. And no bike light, either. Bingo. Time for a stop. Could be a gangster. Could be a parolee-at-large. Who knows?

See, that's the fun. Forrest was right. Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get.

So we hook a u-turn and order him to stop. No big deal. I get out. "Hey man, where's your bike light? Lay the bike down." SLAM. HE BOLTS. NORTHBOUND THROUGH THE GATE OF THE APARTMENT BUILDING. OH SHIT OH SHIT OH SHIT, PARTNER....HE'S RUNNING.

I'm on him, three steps back, but I'm on him. He clears the whole courtyard in a few steps. He tries to scale the fence at the rear of the courtyard and I grab his leg, pulling, pulling - DAMN IT! He's over! I rush through the back gate. I'm running behind him westbound through the rear alley. We are flying top speed. CRAP CRAP CRAP! DOES HE HAVE A GUN? IS HE WANTED? WHAT THE HELL? WHERE'S MY PARTNER?

We run the distance of the alley and what the hell have I got? Why is this fool running from me? About 40 of the longest, hardest yards later, this guy turns the corner onto Nicolet and I lose him. I'm thinking...GEEZ I'M OUT OF BREATH FOR NOTHING! WHAT THE HELL! THIS GUY JUST TOOK OFF.

Then I hear a car pulling up next to me. I'm out of breath, suspect is in the wind...I look over to my left...hahaha. It's my partner! Sitting in the passenger side of what looks like a 2000 Honda Accord yelling, "PARTNER, WHICH WAY DID HE GO? WHAT WAS HE WEARING?"

See, Jack, smart guy that he is (and in way better shape then me) sees me run off after the suspect. As the driver, he has to: 1.) Secure our police vehicle by rolling up the windows, locking all doors and removing the keys and 2.) Come after me to lend assistance if needed.

After locking the car, he enters the alley and encounters a resident on his way home from work who yells , " Hey man, your partner went thataway! Hop in! I'll give you a ride."

So Jack, with a couple years as an officer, in full LAPD uniform, with his persuasive style, professional demeanor and in the best interests of his partner........

COMMANDEERS A CITIZEN'S VEHICLE.

Really folks. I can't make this stuff up. They burn around the corner but the suspect is long gone and I am out of breath. And starting to chuckle a little. Then laugh as I catch my breath.

Bad guy got away, but me and Jack! Oh we still laugh over that one. Thanks, partner. You showed me you can get further with a kind word and a badge than with just a kind word.

A Day Out for Momma Leads to a Kidnap!

So about 3 months ago, I'm working with this nice probationary officer, about 10 years younger than me. Good guy. Good head on his shoulders and has previous experience working in LA County jails as a jailer. But I will tell you, in the 28 day deployment period we worked together, our car was the ultimate cluster magnet.

Case in point, the call I like to call "Mamma's Day Out!" We respond to a radio call of a missing person from a nursing home / assisted living building not far from the station. Nice place, newer, and all the amenities. On the way, I'm quizzing this officer wtih the standard questions. How do we handle a missing person? What makes it a critical missing? What paperwork do we use? Who should we notify and who shall we notify? And to be honest, he's doing a good job with the answers. He pays attention and asks questions when unsure. So we go inside and meet with a person there, advise the reason of our visit. We're taken upstairs to a "lockdown" area. This must be where they keep the alzheimer patients, dementia residents, etc. Smart. You don't want them to wander off.

Through the course of the interview, we find out that the missing person is about 90 years old, has dementia and is somewhat medically fragile. And guess what? Whoops! They let her adult son (in his 50s) waltz her out of there for lunch! That was yesterday morning.

Crap.

Oh, and she has some money. And her adult daughter and son-in-law live nearby and they are not happy, having been notified by the staff that morning. In addition, Momma has two (thats right, 2) executors to cover her financial and legal rights. One in Nevada (Las Vegas is full of retirees and nursing homes) and one in Los Angeles. And they're not talking to each other. And no one seems to know where Momma is at. But the manager of that floor explains that she is sure, based on the history she knows of this woman's family, that the son took her back to Nevada. The daughter is supposed to be responsible for Momma. The son only comes to visit once a month.

I grab the mike on my radio, "Yeah, let me get another unit and a supervisor to my location." I'm thinking, this could be a bona fide kidnap. We might have to contact the FBI. Supervisor gets there, we determine a little bit more, like, turns out that the daughter has done the same thing about 2 years ago. Snatched Momma from her nursing home in Nevada and brought her here to our sleepy beachside community.

Guess what, folks? It's all about the money. Momma's got it, and in her late stages of life, the kids just want to make sure they get as much of it as they can before she shuffles of this mortal coil. You have to feel sorry for Momma, thinking she's going out to lunch with her darling boy and next thing you know she's on the freeway enroute to Vegas.

Well, we get everyone involved, detectives, notify the watch commander, call a few people for advice and even have the LA legal executor come to the senior home. Guess what? Turns out there was supposed to be hearing the following day! The LA executor was supposed to take over ALL responsibilities for this lady! And now she's gone...surprise-surprise-surprise.

Sidenote: There is one detective who works robbery who came to this call...we know each other from working at another division a few years ago. She sees me and my rookies on a call now and she just starts shaking her head! "Damn, man! Always a cluster with you! Haha. Always have to be some old lady kidnapped, home invasion, aliens coming up the beach type, streets on fire, you chasing someone across town on a unicycle or somethin' when you're around!" And she's right. HAHA. She's right.

Well, turns out that when she calls the executor in Nevada, she pulls no punches and they come correct, if you get my meaning. Telling someone they may be accessory to kidnap sort of causes the information flow to turn from a trickle to a river! Turns out Momma was safe and sound back in a nice nursing home in Vegas. Las Vegas Metro PD was able to confirm it.

And the best part was, for once, patrol officers and supervisors didn't take a single report. Detectives took the ball and ran and told us we could clear the scene. They would handle it as a possible elder abuse. Thanks, guys. That was the best training I could have given my guy and one he won't soon forget.

Back to the car, back on the air, "Show me clear and send me any calls you have holding." I love this job.

Enjoy this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4HoquUdlSfo&NR=1

Off for a while and sorry for that. Had a bit of vacation time and enjoyed it!

Past few weeks back have been a blur. The LAPD, specifically our sworn employees union, is negotiating with the city for a new contract. I don't doubt they are doing the best they can. And in a city this big, with this kind of economy, well...everyone is feeling the pinch.

There is no overtime. Expect to hand over your arrestee and evidence at EOW (End of Watch) to the next unit so you can prevent overtime. We are REALLY managing our time effectively now. In all fairness, this should be the norm, but it isn't. I am all for hiring 10,000 more officers over the next five years if we can. Build more police and fire stations right next to each other.

I feel for the guys who bought too expensive a house, too many cycles, one more trophy handgun. I told an old partner of mine that you know when it's bad, when you come to work and look at the employee billboard filled with SeaDoos and boats for sale. Coppers hate giving up their toys more than a 5-year old!

Back to the lecture at hand. When will these states and cities wake up and spend MORE on schools, police and fire instead of spending less. The more educated our populace, the greater benefit to society as a whole. Here in the Peoples Republic of California, we continue to fund and build prisons and jails at an alarming rate. Meanwhile, the amortized burden of that is borne upon the backs of our kids in the UC college system, with 10% or more in tuition hikes that they will be trying to reconcile for the next 15 years.

Good job.

I'm no socialist, but the more people that go to college the less IDIOTS out on the street.

On a lighter note, I want to minimize LA's crime burden by issuing a Cease and Desist order to HUD for all future Section 8 housing applications. Go the F*&% away. LA doesn't want you. And if you can't get off Section 8 in the next 5 years, guess what? You're cut off. And if you can't afford to live here - MOVE. Let market forces decide who lives here and who doesn't. Let market forces decide if we need to put in better public transit to get people here.

In the area I work, there is a master-planned community with apartments, condominiums, townhouses, etc. Beautiful shops, parks, close the everything. But guess what? A bunch of people living there are Section 8, and some of them are the same miserable, no account F*&%s that I dealt with in other areas of the city. And now the car burglaries and residential burgs are up! Well, when you don't have a job, the government is paying for your apartment, SSI is paying for your "bad back" and you have all day to case houses....hmmmmmm?

But, all that said, everyone knows how thankful I am to have a job. I say it every day. I tell everyone, and give thanks to the Lord above for being a sworn Los Angeles Police Officer. I will NOT get furloughed. I will NOT be fired. I will NOT be downsized. I will NOT be early-retired. I will NOT be promoted anytime soon either, but hey, I have the best job in the world right now.

I work the streets.

And as an old training officer once said, "You gonna work the streets or let the streets work you? You gonna be out there making moves, making lives better for people or you gonna let the whole thing wash over you like a wave? You work the STREETS. You work the JOB! Never let the job work you."

Thank you brave citizens of Los Angeles. You often surprise me, sometimes you have let me down, but you never bore me. And quite a few of you lift me up on a daily basis. The waves and thanks are always appreciated.

Watch your six.

Parker Center? Tom Bradley Center? Let's Name It After Chief Gates and Really Tick Them Off.

This is a letter I wrote to the LA Times on April 22nd regarding the name controversy over our the new Police Administration Building. The good people of this city now regarding Chief Parker as a racist. Read the articles:

http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/lanow/2009/04/the-panel-of-civilians-that-oversees-the-los-angeles-police-department-voted-unanimously-this-morning-to-oppose-a-movement-in.html


And then the enlightened ones in the LA City Council of course pass the buck:

http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/lanow/2009/04/parker-center.html


My response to the first article is below:


Once again, LA ducks behind the skirts of political correctness to be the world leader in sheer stupidity. I agree with former Chief Parks on almost nothing except to name the new building Parker Center. Why is this even up for a vote? I am reminded that the Police Commission was better with Caruso on it. John Mack, a well-documented LAPD hater, always gets his narrow-minded two cents. This from a guy who would likely prefer it if LAPD were disbanded altogether.

Lest we forget, the LAPD was somewhat disreputable and largely considered corrupt before Chief Parker took the reins. He established the formal training, maintained high standards and established police work as a profession with a defined career path. And for you MORONS out there, most if not ALL POLICE AGENCIES ARE PARAMILITARY ORGANIZATIONS. If we weren't, we would have no chain of command and anarchy would ensue.

You simply don't get it. Sitting here bashing us, not realizing that we should have 25K officers to adequately police this city in the way a New York or Chicago can. We are respected worldwide because of Chief Parker. So name it after Tom Bradley. A great man, yes. He never rose above the rank of Lieutenant and did everything he could to inhibit Chief Gates positive efforts in stemming the flow of gang and narcotics activity, but go ahead.

While we are at it, we (the officers) should rename the Academy in Elysian Park. The LAPD Parker Academy in Elysian Park. Why, that's no worse than LA Angels of Anaheim! If the police commission wants to vote on that...they can't. The officers league owns the academy and we can name it whatever we want.

Did you ever wonder why so few LAPD officers live in Los Angeles or why we all move away when we retire? Because we have had it up to here with being second-guessed by so many idiots who have never worn a badge, never served and never had to stand and defend anything.

So don't name schools after Thomas Jefferson; he owned slaves. Don't name a park after Harry Truman; he ordered the bombing of Japan. Don't celebrate Columbus Day; he helped subjugate Native Americans. Don't celebrate the positive accomplishments of historical figures; focus on the negatives but learn nothing from their mistakes.

And Who Do You Work For?

There is just no way to answer this question. I started this blog partly in answer to that. And partly to keep my wife from having to listen to so many of the stories, jokes and sheer lunacy that I have to deal with as a police officer.

Oh, it's not just me. There are nearly ten thousand others in the same boat with me. We are part of one of the most well-known police agencies in the world. With the pride comes pain, with the pay comes a payout.

Not that I'm complaining...at least not right now. But from day one at the academy they tell you never to let on to people that you are a police officer. People give you a funny look. You can hear the judgement wheels cranking in their head. The eyes give it away. "This guy probably beats people up every day!" they might be thinking. "Are you carrying a gun?" they want to ask. One guy straight up said, "Is it all true about you guys profiling people or what?" A question like that says his mind is made up!

I used to horse around and say I worked for the city, or that I was a writer or that I conducted citizen impact studies (you like that one?) but who freakin' cares? "I'm a cop." I say. Get it over with I'm thinking. Uh-oh...there goes the eyes...

"What city?" they ask.
"L.A."
"Oh, you're LAPD."
"Yup."
"Oh...hey, are there really neighborhoods like that street on Training Day?"
"Yeah. That street is called Palmwood. It's in The Jungles...Baldwin Village. I worked in that area for a few years."
"Damn, that must be pretty messed up!" they say.
"Oh, don't worry, other officers I know work in a lot worse places than that. It is what it is."
"Oh...hey, are you packin'?"
"Whaaat?"

You can see where this is going. One thing I can say is that the media can help us out or help us OUT. And public perception can be huge on this job. More on that later, but for now, here is a thought:

We can't all be heroes because somebody has to sit on the curb and clap as they go by.
-Will Rogers, US humorist & showman (1879 - 1935)