StoryTime With Adoro: Criminal Law

It's been awhile since I told a "story". People seem to like my stories, even if they don't comment. They ask for them. And, by the way, I don't make these things up. If it's fictional, I say so up front.

Tonight's StoryTime comes as a result of two independent and unrelated inspriations. The first is Anita Moore's post at V for Victory! on the utter ridiculousness, amusement, irritants, and head-shaking she experiences (or has experienced) in Criminal Law. As, at one time I aspired to be a Criminal Attorney, and of course, saw the field from a different perspective, the following is my take in relation to her post:

Amusement: everybody who gets pulled over for drunk driving had "a couple of beers." Everybody who gets caught with marijuana last smoked the stuff "two weeks ago."

~ Anita Moore

Back in my very short time as a cop, I had to work on Thanksgiving. We had early snow that year (technically normal for Minnesota) and the roads, especially at "rural" corners, were covered in snow. It was common knowledge which bars/restaurants were having "parties" that night, and so we patrolled those areas heavily, as well as taking time to cruise our respective assigned zones.

That evening I remember confronting a guy named "Zack" (as we shall call him) outside of Champp's, a local sports bar chain. (I'm not sure if it's national as I'm too lazy to check.) Zack was drunk and was starting fights. But he didn't want to fight me and every time I found it necessary to get in his face and yell at him, he immediately calmed down and became malleable to direction. It helped that at the time he was in handcuffs.

As I recall, we let him go after charging him with Disorderly Conduct, because, in fact, by his willingness to cooperate with me he proved that he actually could take care of himself in spite of his lightweight "couple beers", and some of his friends were a bit wiser than he and desired to get him out of there. So we left and headed to the southern end of the large metro suburb. As we approached a hard left turn in one of the more "remote" heavily wooded neighborhoods, knowing the roads and turn were icy, I had no problem slowing and keeping the Squad under control. Yet it didn't surprise me to see a sedan stuck on that curve, and it surprised me less that there were four guys somewhere around 21 or 22 years of age sitting in that car.

(Mind you...I was 22 years old at the time myself. And yes, wearing a badge and carrying a gun and the authority of the law.)

As I approached the car, I noted they had their windows open and quite jovially greeted us with the air of innocence that belongs only to the guilty. These guys were really really friendly, the sort you'd want to meet any time of the day, and they were working hard to project that image.

I knew immediately they'd been drinking. (As if the car that welded to the ditch could have been suffering anything less!)

Of course, it's not illegal to be tipsy and sitting in the backseat of a ditch-encrusted car. As I joined in their overly-friendly banter, I shone my flashlight through the car, looking for evidence that the guys were still drinking. But my main focus was whether the driver had been drinking. (The fact the car was THAT FAR into the ditch was pretty damning evidence, but not enough for an arrest!)

The driver, too, was very happy to see us and as the peanut gallery in the back seat assured us that a tow had been called already, he showed us his cell phone to prove it, obviously in hopes we would move on.

Clearly they were operating off of the paradigm of "helpful cop" that would move on and ignore the obvious reality that not a single other car had managed to go off that road, and if so, they had managed to not be THAT stuck.

So I played the game, which wasn't hard. After all, I was their age! I knew what I would have been doing if I was still in Winona (although my friends were wise enough to take a cab!)

We talked a little about the weather, the slippery roads, the fact it was Thanksgiving and how our meals had been, etc. And then I "randomly" sprung the key question on the chatty guy in the back seat.

My question was focused on him because he was the obvious spokesperson for the group. I was sure he was the one telling the other guys "what to do". Yeah, I had friends like him, too, and knew that "that guy" was usually wrong, especially when there was trouble. And that made "that guy" the weak link. He had the pinache to think I was wrapped around his finger.

He was wrong.

Me to Chatty Guy in the Backseat: So you guys, how was the party at Champps tonight?"

Chatty-self-appointed-spokesman-guy in the backseat: It was great, there were TONS of people there!

I let him go on for awhile, nodding and smiling in seeming approval.

Then I said to the cringing and strangely silent driver who had long put his cell phone away, "Sir, will you step out of the car, please?"

The driver immediately opened the door, deer-in-the-headlights, and told me as he did so that he'd only had "a couple".

In appraising the position of his car and the proportionate support of his passengers, I wondered, "A couple kegs or a couple bottles of hard liquor?"

Well, let's just say this guy failed his field sobriety test and subsequently blew something over .20. At the time, MN was .10. And because our backup officers were vigilant and quietly circled around while I was "chatting up" the passengers, he was the one to spot the Open Bottle violations in the back seat.

Yup, it was a successful night.

Tonight, a local News Station, KARE11 , had a special on the Mounted Police in Minneapolis. (Not online as of this writing)

When I was in Law Enforcement Skills, I wanted to be one of them. At the time, I'm not sure that Minneapolis had Mounted Patrol, but St. Paul did and I aspired to be one of them. To me, it was the pefect place for me: I wanted to be a cop, and I loved horses and KNEW I could ride.

As it was, it wasn't until after I had left law enforcement that I finally came into contact with the Mounted Patrol, and given the story on the news tonight, I feel I have to write about it.

The story focused on their very necessary crowd control in Downtown at bar close.

Having been there, yes, I agree it's the PERFECT place, and they do a great job! There are a great number of people out there who don't realize the value of horses in crowd control and law enforcement, so I was happy to see this story, the officers, and of course, the well-trained horses that are ready for everything!

My own experience with the Mounted Police was also as a "drunk" (of which I'm still very embarassed!) However, I wasn't causing a fight. I'd left a bar, I was with friends, and in fact, I went TOWARD the officer, introduced myself,and we had a great and coherent conversation while we "talked shop" and I patted the horse.

As my friends and I left, I realized that in walking away from law enforcement, I was also walking away from the other part of that dream I'd held dear for a long time. I had loved the idea of serious law enforcement combined with horses, and of course, the PR that went with it. It was the Farm Girl in the City, and there is more beyond that.

But it wasn't to be.

Although I long mourned my exodus of that dream, I value my experience in law enforcement and am grateful especially to those officers who hold the position I STILL, in some ways, lament.

Tonight in watching the news, I wondered if maybe the Police have a program for volunteers to come in and assist with the horses. Maybe there is and maybe I should look into that. I love horses, I don't have a lot of time, but as they noted, grooming horses is calming, working with horses is calming, and having had THAT experience, well, I miss it and wish I had somewhere to go for that kind of "therapy". As it is, the programs I know about for retired horses and neglected horses are so far out of the way or require a time committment that that simply doesn't work with my schedule.

Hmmm...how did I go from snarky cop stories to lamenting my love for horses?

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I never said my blog would be organized OR predictable. Just sayin'

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Thousand-Yard Stare

I've seen it, in the eyes of a young State Trooper. When I was in high school on a ride-along with another officer. I've never forgotten what that officer and a friend of mine told me; that look belonged to a man who had been involved in a shooting. He didn't talk about it. No one asked. It was the unspoken rule that one never speaks to a person who has killed another on the Job. Those who have been there know what it's like but the "uninitiated" have no right to infringe on that sacred ground.

Today at work, (yes, in all the chaos) a conversation came up; someone learned that I was once in Law Enforcement, and she asked what it meant to be a Catholic and be wearing a gun. Sadly, I was not a practicing Catholic at the time, but admittedly, that career was one that brought me closer to God in a multitude of ways. I can still hear the sound of a round being jacked into the chamber of an SKS as I stood on the other side of the door realizing my vest would not protect me.

That person asked me...what about now? Now that I am a practicing Catholic? Have my views changed?

No. Because unfortunately, sometimes the police have to pull the trigger. They don't want to. But they train for it, and all that is needed is for training to take over. In the end, it's not really the cop that shoots the perp; it's the training that does it. A wealth of knowledge and understanding that takes hold in a fraction of a second, for the purpose of defending life. And even at that, it's not an easy decision; it's a necessary one.

A devastating one for all involved.

Most people don't hear the real stories of the shootings that you see and hear about on the news. Most people just dissociate themselves and depersonalize all those involved, for that tends to be the nature of crime reporting.

When I was in training, I remember some guys talking about shootings as though they were a good thing. I knew a lot of guys who never aspired to the Job (thank God!) who spoke of police killings as a feather in one's cap, a badge of honor. And indeed, oftentimes, an officer who finds it necessary to pull the trigger and is justified (after a lengthy and in-depth investigation) is often given that proverbial badge-made-reality. But he doesn't want it. She doesn't want it.

Killing people is never a good thing. Even in self-defense and with the authority of the State on behalf of the lives of others. But it's better than allowing innocent lives to be lost. Judge, jury and executioner...in the hands of someone you hope and pray is properly trained to make that decision.

And in reality, there is no real training that can prepare one for such a result. That's part of the reason why cops are taken off the Job for awhile after a "Critical Incident". It's not just for the investigation; it's about the officer's sanity.

I'm glad that even before I was deeply into my training I met that Trooper with the "thousand-yard stare". It gave me a depth of understanding and made me truly consider how I'd feel if I were called upon to make that terrible call.

But yes, as a Catholic, a practicing Catholic, I could pull that trigger. I still own a gun, and I have no doubt that if it came to it, I could take a life. But I'd be changed forever.

Talk to Veterens. Talk to ex-police officers. Speak to those who have seen the worst. They'll tell you stories and they'll tell you all sorts of gory things you've never wanted to know. But they won't talk about THAT. They won't discuss it. It goes too deep, it has changed who they are and has placed a scar upon their souls that cannot be healed in this life.

Pray for police officers. Pray for soldiers. Pray for all those who are called to those fields. You'll never know the stories and you'll never see the scars, and that makes your prayers all the more necessary.
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BAD COP! NO Donut!

For some reason, recently I have come across three people who attended Law Enforcement skills training at the school I went to back in 1995. Two of the men I met attended the same 10-week program I did (as part of their four year B.A. degree), and today I met one who is obtaining an AA degree in Law Enforcement at that school.

I immediately inquired about the instructors, naming them. Most are still there, and it sounds like there are some new faces, too. My instructors are all close to retirement, and I consider that to be a loss for the new cadets coming through the program of the near future, although I am certain that they are passing on the torch in an appropriate manner. I pray the program, and thus all the students, will remain in good hands.

Although I discerned early on in my career that law enforcement is not for me, I will forever value the time I spent at Alexandria, and the challenges I was forced to face, one of which I wrote about as I mused the grace God provides to the martyrs.

As it turns out, much of what I learned in the past has provided an aid to understanding the spiritual life. But what I'm going to talk about today is really more about stereotypical humor than anything else.

With all the heaviness on my blog lately, it seems to me that some lighthearted remembrances are needed. I know that some people read my blog because they think I'm a good storyteller, thus I hope to continue to live up to their expectations. Besides; as we all know, telling stories can be cathartic and uplifting, both for the storyteller and those "listening."

Local Connections

This evening, after work at a gathering I attended, I met a young man who is in training now for Law Enforcement. As I walked into the house to "go get a plate!" in obedience to my hostess, another friend stopped me, telling this young man that I used to be a cop and he should talk to me. I stopped and chatted with him, and as it was, we spoke a great deal this evening. Please keep him in your prayers; he is young, enthusiastic, from a faithful family, and I think he'll make a great Police Officer.

Of course, as it is with anyone in the same field, we have to "talk shop", and cops, near-cops, and ex-cops just LOVE to swap stories! He hasn't gotten to some of the stuff we experienced in skills yet, but will in the coming year. Training is fun; there's no risk other than failure in the class, and that is the time to make mistakes - when they can be corrected and when they are not life-threatening for anyone. "Failures" can be re-tested and overcome. But before the tests come the practice, the introduction to new concepts and skills...and quite often, hilarity ensues as we all know, thanks to shows like COPS and the like, what certain events are SUPPOSED to look like.

In training, though, things don't always go that way.

Our introduction to traffic stops involved not the school's squad cars, but our own vehicles. Two students volunteered the use of their own personal vehicles, so we lined them up properly, with the "squad" in back of the "target" car, positioned so that the squad was offset for both lighting and safety purposes. This took place on the gravel "roads" built into the Skills Center designed at the school for the purpose of a myriad of police training scenarios.

We were learning not so much how to initiate a traffic stop, but how to discern when to stand ground and command, versus find cover and draw our weapons in preparation to use deadly force. It was something akin to a "draw / don't draw" scenario, the former of which would also require finding cover.

The instructor was giving each driver "secret" instructions before every scenario, so that the "officer" wasn't always looking at the same thing. The element of surprise was constantly present. It wasn't an ambush by any means, just a necessary play on our reactions.

I watched as several students had to determine whether to dive behind the car and draw their weapon, or simply order the the person to get back into the vehicle, keeping their hands in sight, etc. I was admittedly nervous...we all were. But we were also ready and excited for this exercise.

CONTACT AND COVER

When it was my turn, my friend and roommate was the person being "pulled over". At the start of the scenario, when signaled, I got out of the "squad" and began to approach the target vehicle.

My friend got out, holding something in her hand.

I reacted quickly, beginning to move behind the car for cover as I reached for my sidearm. (We were carrying training guns).

Just as I made my move, I immediately recognized that what she held in her hand was not really a threat to anyone but the gluttinous; it was a donut bag.

I stopped, and for some reason, the censer in my head was asleep at the switch so I exclaimed aloud, in great surprise, "THAT'S not a GUN!"

My class, standing at the "shoulder" of the road, doubled over laughing. I was too focused on what I was doing to be fully embarassed yet, realizing it would be better to finish the scenario before slinking into non-existence.

I stood tall and ordered my Target flatly (and somewhat sheepishly) to "Drop the bag!"

She obeyed immediately. Then I arrested her.

The class roared.

From that point on, one of our class jokes went as thus:

Posing in the correct firing position, holding the "gun", that being a hand mimicing a handgun cupped in the other hand as we would stand at the range. Firm expression. Loud, commanding voice.

"DROP THE DONUT BAG NOW!" (pause)

"KICK IT OVER HERE WITH YOUR FOOT!" ( pause )

"KEEP YOUR HANDS UP WHERE I CAN SEE THEM!" (pause)

"GO GET ME SOME COFFEE!" (pause)

"KEEP YOUR HANDS WHERE I CAN SEE THEM!"

I'm so proud of myself.

My very first traffic stop not only earned me a common greeting of "THAT'S not a GUN!" to the above scenario, played out over and over again. And I was a willing participant, finding it, of course, HILARIOUS that she got out of the car with a donut bag, of all things! I can't remember whose car that was, but I know he got ribbed for indulging in the donuts even before he was hired!

Yes, cops do laugh at themselves and their stereotypes, especially when they inadvertantly occur.

The Link Between Experience and Spiritual Life

If you know any police officers, military personnel, firefighters, etc., take some time and ask them to tell their stories. As especially about their bloopers in training. Everyone has them, and most of them are things that would seem like common sense to anyone not actually facing that moment. You never know how you will react. Sometimes training will tell, sometimes it won't. Sometimes it doesn't come together for you until the very "moment of truth" on the real job itself, and in that moment, you pray your training will overcome your humanity for a moment. But in training itself, often your humanity will dominate...and that's when you learn the most.

In the spiritual life, it is the same. So many things are an introduction or a test of some sort for us, sometimes our efforts, even the most brave of our efforts, are complete disasters. Sometimes we are successful, and sometimes we step forward and are surprised when things don't proceed as we expect...and we, in turn, respond in ways we don't expect. Relax. This is an opportunity to learn. It is a chance to take stock of where we are and realize, in all humility, that we have not "graduated" yet, God is not expecting perfection, and that we have to be prepared to make mistakes. If we don't stumble, in reality, we aren't learning much. We need to take risks, we need to step into the unknown in order to face the training scenarios God has in store for us. If we "fail", keep in mind that God has a sense of humor, wants us to learn from our failures but also see the humor in them because...let's face it. Sometimes our foibles are funny. It's OK to laugh at ourselves, learn the lesson, and move on. It takes genuine humility to laugh at our mistakes.

Tonight was a great evening, both in fellowship with good friends, and in meeting the next generation in law enforcement. I hope he makes even more mistakes than I did in training; those mistakes at the right time will make him a better cop when it really counts and when someone's life is on the line.

I also hope he doesn't become obsessed with donuts, but that's another story....

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