11.27.09
Positive Effect
I would like to use this space to thank all of the dedicated investigators from NCPD, SPD, CCSO, DCSO and the FBI for the cooperation and around the clock performance in the recent child abduction that occurred in North Charleston. By the time I arrived on-scene the mother had gone from hysterical panic to stunned acceptance. Approximately thirty hours later I saw the mother again, as our teams filed out of the building in an attempt to recover the child. She was extremely distraught. I don’t speak Spanish, but as a parent myself the look in her tear-filled eyes said it all – hopeful, yet hopeless. That look had a profound effect on me.
While I played no actual part in the recovery of the child, I can tell you, dear reader, that the effort to recover this child had nothing to do with whether the parents were here legally or whether or not the mother erred, or violated a law in leaving the child in the car. The sole motivation of everyone involved in that investigation was ensuring the safe return of a helpless child to the panicked parents. Your local police would have done the same for any parent, U.S. citizen or not.
10.26.09
Positive Effect for the Week
After two days of a four day shift, I have finally found a way to quantify how successful this cycle has been so far and I have pin-pointed the one life I have positively impacted. I responded to a call for a severely malnourished dog in one of our industrial areas. Locating the fella fitting that description wasn’t tough. He was the only white pit-bull I could find that was nothing but skin covering bones. He looked like he couldn’t possibly survive much longer, yet he still had the strength to amble slowly in the opposite direction when I approached. Not quite fast enough to gain any distance, but just enough of a pace that he stayed ahead as I slowly followed while tossing biscuits in his direction.
He maintained the image and pride of the breed despite his emaciated condition, stopping long enough to look back at me and growl warnings to let me know he didn’t want to be bothered. I released the lock on my Taser just in case he surprised me and had the energy left to charge, but I don’t think he would have survived being Tased. He was so bad off he couldn’t maintain even that slow, painful pace for long. He went to ground when I walked him into a corner on a loading dock. The only way out was past me or to leap off the five foot high loading dock and even he knew he wasn’t up to that. I knelt a short distance away and tossed biscuits in his direction, hoping he would try one. He sniffed one, but otherwise showed no interest. Must have been some crappy dog biscuits.
I began carrying a bag of those biscuits since one of my guys had to shoot a pit-bull that had just attacked two others and the dog-sitter. He then jumped the fence and went after the officer who had Tased him in order to get the human victim away. It took four shots to put that threat down, but I wasn’t happy that it had to be done. Since that night I have carried the biscuits. Between using them and employing some tactics learned by watching ‘The Dog Whisperer’ and reading Cesar Milan’s books I have managed to take custody of a few dogs that other officers wouldn’t go near.
This fella was in the worst shape I have seen. I spoke to him calmly, like you would to an injured child. He didn’t know what I was saying, but the tone of voice and the confidence I was able to relay caused him to put his head down and eliminated some of the growling. He allowed me to approach within two or three feet and crouch down. I talked to him the entire time I waited for a caged unit and a rabies pole to arrive. As I placed the loop around him he gave me a look that said, “I’m resigned to whatever fate you have in store for me.”
He moved along well once I had him leashed and we got him into the backseat of the cruiser with very little problem. I took this to mean he had experience jumping into vehicles. I had him transported to the local emergency vet because I didn’t believe he would survive the night if he was simply placed in a cage at the shelter. He even stood up a bit and watched the scenery passing by. Folks from the vet’s officer put a leash on him and we got him out of the cruiser without incident. He even wagged his tail a bit. He stopped as he entered the building and gazed back at me and I said, “See dude, I told you to trust me.” As the shift drew to a close I stopped in at the vet’s office and was informed he seems to be doing fine other than being starved and eaten up with fleas. He was provided with his first good meal in weeks, if not months and was reported to be wagging his tail, licking hands and being a generally sweet guy.
He will spend the night in good hands, then head off to the shelter for rehabilitation and, hopefully, adoption by some fine people. If I get a chance, I’ll stop by the shelter and check on his progress from time to time.
10.22.09
Pacing
It’s a day off. I’ve been feeling weird lately, not sure if it’s the change of seasons or something else. Fired up the motorcycle today and took a brief ride, but now I sit here in the garage with a Bud Light Lime (good stuff), listening to tunes and watching the sun set behind the houses across the street. I’m feeling a bit philosophical, which is always a dangerous thing.
Music is often the philosophical trigger for me. I don’t listen to music that doesn’t mean anything to me or doesn’t speak to me on some level, whether it’s a reminder of past events or a hope for the future. I made an effort to learn guitar once, but I lacked the ear and the talent, so I rely on others to fill need. Here is a brief look at the range of music that moves me; Jimmy Buffet, Disturbed, Donovan Frankenreiter, Rehab, Cory Smith, Death Cab for Cutie, Jesse Winchester, Godsmack, Joe Walsh, Beck, Kid Rock, Slightly Stoopid, Pink Floyd, The Black Keys, The Guess Who, The Killers, Tom Petty, Warren Zevon. The list goes on, but this gives the reader an overview. I’m not locked into one particular genre. Depending on my mood, one song can end up speaking to me on several levels.
As I’m watching the sunset I hear Jimmy Buffett singing “Pacing the Cage,” as written by Bruce Cockburn. This evening the song speaks to me in terms of my chosen career.
“Sunset is an angel weeping
Holding out a bloody sword
No matter how I squint I cannot
Make out what it’s pointing toward
Sometimes you feel like you’ve lived too long
Days drip slowly on the page
And You catch yourself
Pacing the cage”
For me, this passage evokes questions about why I chose this career and images of the destruction of the ideals I had when I started. Many people get into LE because they truly believe they can make a difference. As we reach the end of our run some of us begin to question whether our efforts have really had any effect at all. We have trouble quantifying just how many lives, if any, we have really impacted in a positive way. Who have we saved? And how? Restlessness begins it’s inevitable creep and we wonder if the last twenty or thirty years have been wasted. Is there some ultimate purpose for all of the blood and human wreckage I have waded through over the years?
“I’ve proven who I am so many times
The magnetic strip’s worn thin
And each time I was someone else
And everyone was taken in
Powers chatter in high places
Stir up eddies in the dust of rage
Set me to pacing the cage”
We have to prove ourselves on a daily basis, to the public, to the boss and to fellow officers, who have to know we aren’t going to cut and run and leave them hanging. We have to assume so many roles that it can sometimes get confusing. Social worker, lawyer, enforcer, comforter, etc. We switch roles from one moment to the next, depending on what the situation calls for. While the line worker is playing all these parts, society, the government and police administration are constantly calling in changes to the script. Frustration builds when we begin to perceive laws, policies, and our efforts to have a positive impact as ineffective. Change can be a positive thing, but there are hard and fast rules that old school officers still respect and abide by. Unfortunately those are quickly falling by the wayside. Many end up leaving the field entirely, stymied in their efforts to ‘protect and serve’ by change that doesn’t seem to make a lot of sense. Traditionally, a police officer’s role was to seek out and lock up the bad folks and document hard facts. Today’s policing uses catch phrases like ‘customer service’ in an attempt to turn policing into a facsimile of a corporate venture. This corporate message, however, usually fails to reverberate with our usual ‘customers.’
“I never knew what you all wanted
So I gave you everything
All that I could pillage
All the spells that I could sing
It’s as if the thing were written
In the constitution of the age
Sooner or later you’ll wind up
Pacing the cage “
An appropriate description, in my opinion. New, idealistic officers WILL give everything in order to live up to the image they have of law enforcement as the protector of the Republic, the Constitution and civil society as a whole. I know I did. I ran hard, drove fast, fought like a demon and represented and protected law abiding citizens the best way I knew how. As a result I have sacrificed my own physical, financial and familial well being. I don’t make that statement to garner sympathy or kudos. It is simply a statement of fact. I followed my calling, as did many before me, and have suffered physical harm and repudiation by some of those I worked for and at the hands of those I was sworn to protect and serve. It is unfortunate, but the ‘constitution of the age’ is not change that I look forward to.
“Sometimes the best map will not guide you
You can’t see what’s round the bend
Sometimes the road leads through dark places
Sometimes the darkness is your friend
Today these eyes scan bleached-out land
For the coming of the outbound stage
Pacing the cage”
In reality, the bleached-out land these eyes are scanning was bleached out twenty-plus years ago. There are areas of town where absolutely NOTHING has changed. There are newer areas of town where things ARE changing, for the worse. It is my opinion that we have lost at least two generations in many of these areas. Absentee parents using television as a babysitter were the first to go, followed by their children who seem to place no value whatsoever on the sanctity of life or the property rights of others. We are about to lose a third generation because this latest batch seems to be popping out “status symbol’ children at an alarming rate. I may not be able to see what’s around the bend, but I can make a damn good educated guess.
This career does lead to dark places. The depravity we see can leave us questioning the human race and it’s ability to survive itself. I tell people that every time I believe I have seen the worst thing a human can do to himself or to others, something else comes along. After awhile, we cease to be shocked by the butchery and lack of concern for fellow humans expressed by a small segment of the population. I’m sure the same is true for law enforcement officers all over the world. On the other hand, the darkness is my friend. I prefer to work the shift I do. The world truly does change after dark.
I am now in the twilight of my career. The final countdown, so to speak. I am looking forward to it, though I don’t what I will do when my run is at an end. Maybe I will have to leave this town for quieter spaces. There isn’t an area of town where I can drive for more than a mile or two and not remember some form of horrible, blood-soaked event occurring. It might be nice to take what is left of my ideals and start over somewhere else.
10.20.09
Been Away
I took last week off and planned to write a bit, but spent most of my time sitting in the garage, drinking beer, alternately staring at the rain and then at the Harley. Just my luck. The weather is cooler now which is a good thing. I tend to ride more in cold weather than in the oppressive heat. Hopefully the forecast will call for a couple of nice days during the week so I can get out of town, lock in on the horizon, roll on the throttle and get thoroughly lost.
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09.22.09
Reminiscing About Hurricane Hugo
In mid-September 1989 hurricane Hugo was out there in the Atlantic Basin. “No worries. Not coming here,” is what we were told. The next thing I know Linda Lombard is on television on the 20th of September basically screaming, “Get the f*** out – we’re all gonna die!!!” Gee, that was a sudden change. I know that may be an exaggeration, but if you ask anyone who was here at the time, that is usually the impression they remember.
Traffic Leaving Charleston - 09/20/1989
I went to work at 0600 on the 21st. Throughout the day, Rivers Avenue and I-26 were parking lots. The photo above was taken at the Montague Avenue overpass at about 1 p.m. Notice the eastbound traffic in the photo. We were set up to turn all lanes westbound all the way to Orangeburg, but Summerville P.D. claimed it didn’t have the manpower to participate. It seemed to me that the traffic was gone and the City of North Charleston was a ghost town by the time I got off at 6 p.m. I turned in my car and drove to my in-law’s home off of Ashley Phosphate Road.
My father-in-law was one of those old, WW II, tough guy types that wouldn’t leave his house – no matter what. I sat on his front porch with my wife and brother-in-law and we placed bets on which of the three pine trees across the street would be the first to go. As the storm rolled in and things got bad we all went inside. It wasn’t too long before the transformers started blowing and power was lost. I pulled up an AM station from Jacksonville, FL on the battery powered radio and even called in a condition report as the storm raged. We heard a crash and I was able to peek out the front door and see my POS Chevrolet Chevette covered by branches from an old oak tree. Well – that was a bright spot. I mean, really, have you ever driven a Chevette?? We heard several more crashes and found an oak tree had just missed the back of the house.
When the eye passed over there was eerie silence and dead calm. We ventured out to assess the damage and check on the neighbors until the winds picked up again. I slept through the second half of the storm because I had to report for duty at 6 a.m. After I was awake and dressed I had to telephone dispatch to have someone pick me up on Ashley Phosphate. I then shouldered all my gear and walked the half-mile out of the neighborhood, climbing over and under fallen trees. It was still dark out, so I didn’t see the full extent of the damage at the time. I got picked up on Ashley Phosphate Road and we took I-26 to get to City Hall. Things still didn’t look that bad.
I was issued a cruiser at the squad briefing and hit the road. As soon as I hit Rivers Avenue from Mall Drive the extent of the damage became apparent. Those huge metal power poles on Rivers Avenue were now across the road. I spent most of that first day patrolling the neighborhoods I could get into and thinking to myself, “Holy. F*cking. Sh*t!!”
About midway through the day I got permission from my Sarge to check on my apartment off of Dorchester Road. Other than a few leaves blown under the door and not having power, we didn’t suffer any damage. I then drove by the in-law’s and received very disappointing news. It seems the large oak branch that had fallen on the Chevette was U-shaped and actually did not damage the car in the least. Go figure. My in-laws had twenty-three trees down in their yard, some theirs and some the neighbor’s.
Looting and price gouging were the order of the day. The looting actually began in the middle of the freakin’ storm. There was one particular convenience store at Attaway and E. Dolphin Street where looters had smashed the front doors to gain entry. There was no actual storm damage to the business. We were unable to contact any key holder for the business so, over the next few days, we took turns hiding inside and taking down the cigarette and beer thieves. Look folks – if you went into that store to grab food items for your family, I could understand that. Not one of the people we arrested for looting were actually doing that. After several days we finally got in touch with an assistant manager who really didn’t give a damn about the problems at the store. She did tell us that if the officers needed anything they should take it and leave an IOU in the desk drawer in the office. Several of us did this, taking bread that was almost out of date, those cheap styrofoam coolers, etc.
There was a fruit stand/convenience store combination on Rivers Avenue where Hwy 78 once came through and the fella who owned that was charging ten dollars for a 12-pack of soda. He made the mistake of telling that to my wife when she got to the counter and she practically shoved that 12-pack up his ass. It’s a good thing the officer responding to that call knew her. He told the store owner that my wife was fully capable, and in fact, more than justified in forcing that item pretty deep in his ass and he would be more than happy to stand there and watch her do it.
The weeks following the storm are pretty much a blur for me because of the twelve hour shifts, but some things do stand out. I remember the oppressive heat. I remember the delivery driver for a bread company who parked his truck on Remount Road because there were no stores open that first day to deliver to. He opened the truck up for any passersby to take what they needed to survive. I remember the first week after the storm when drivers meeting at intersections were so courteous it was annoying. “You go first.” “No, I insist, you go.” After the first week they said the hell with courtesy and just crashed into one another. I remember directing traffic at major intersections and the good citizens of North Charleston pulling up and handing out ice cold bottles of water to the officers who had been stuck there for hours.
I remember the burning ban due to the dry conditions after the storm and I remember having to tell Councilwoman Patsy Hughes to put her fire out due to the ban. She then ratted out Councilman Don John Hayes and I had to tell him to put his out, too. I remember the attractive lonely woman, stuck by herself in a dark apartment on Greenridge Road who called in a possible prowler. She answered the door in a very sexy set of lingerie. I got out of there quick. Several other officers went by to check on her often, though. 
I remember working a security detail at Sunox Chemical Company on Arco Lane where they were selling blocks of dry ice. At the end of the day the folks there gave one block each to every officer that was present. I took mine to my apartment and was about to stuff it into the non-functioning refrigerator when my wife reminded me that the couple living below us had a newborn and would need to keep the formula cold. We hauled the twenty pound block of dry ice downstairs and presented them with it. The gratitude on their faces was definitely worth it. Heck – I lived in Germany for a while and got used to drinking stuff warm anyway. At least the infant formula would stay good for a few days.
I remember spending several hours stooped over in a refrigerated tractor-trailer parked at Northwoods Mall and shoveling a trailer full of ice into plastic bags and coolers for a very, very, very long line of people. I remember working twelve hour shifts for weeks. Officers assigned to the day shift were at a disadvantage because the few stores that did open were no longer open when we finished our tour. If you didn’t have a family member chasing down the necessities you were at an extreme disadvantage.
I remember the WONDERFUL folks from the Salvation Army’s portable kitchen who parked at City Hall and fed police officers and firefighters breakfast, lunch, dinner and midnight snacks. To this day, I drop extremely large bills into the Salvation Army collection pots at Christmas. Those folks were always there, always cheerful and encouraging and fully dedicated to their mission.
Conversely, I remember a female officer with an infant who was assigned to work a security detail at the Red Cross building on Rivers Avenue. A tractor-trailer full of diapers arrived. While two and three packs were handed out to every ‘baby momma’ in line, the officer working the detail to keep the Red Cross workers safe and prevent a riot asked a Red Cross representative if she could take ONE pack for her infant since she couldn’t get to any of the few stores that were briefly open. The officer was told, very bluntly, she could not have even one package of diapers. Up until that day, I regularly donated to the Red Cross – cash and blood. Since that day, the Red Cross hasn’t received a single penny or a drop of blood from me. Even twenty years later, if a rep walked up and asked for a donation I’d tell ‘em to shove their request up their ass.
I remember when things got pretty close to normal a few weeks later. We were released to our normal shifts. During municipal court, the judges saw fit to dismiss EVERY looting charge. They all went free – no harm, no foul. I remember getting a call from my Lt. a week later. He roused me out of bed after working a night shift and ordered me to the station. When I arrived he informed me that the Captain was planning to charge a number of officers with looting. ?????????? “Um…Why?” He wanted to know the story of the store at Attaway and E. Dolphin. I told him what had happened, how many people we had arrested for looting, and that the judge had dismissed all the charges. I told him about our conversation with the assistant manager and how we took things like loaves of bread that were almost out of date and left signed IOU’s in the desk drawer as instructed. Once the store re-opened, the manager found the IOU’s and called in a complaint. Hell, we had already been assigned back to our normal patrol areas and were unaware the business had even re-opened. I was instructed to write a statement, go to the store and pay the $2.38 I owed and pray to whatever deity I believed in that the Captain didn’t draw warrants and put us all in jail. I’d been in the military for eight years and been witness to some ridiculous shit from command staff, but this one was just too much. I came very close to leaving law enforcement because of that incident, but my Sarge and my Lt. talked me into staying. Rest assured when I say that the next time we have such a situation, one of my priorities will NOT be protecting that particular store and their inventory.
McLellanvile, SC took a horrendous hit from Hugo, with record tidal surges, a wrecked fishing fleet, etc. Unfortunately, the local news led this story tonight with footage of a black woman taken after the storm. The woman wanted to know, “Where’s the water, where’s the batteries, where’s the food, where’s the help?” I probably shouldn’t have brought this up because I’ll be called a racist, but when I saw that footage I immediately thought of New Orleans. I grew up in Florida. Lived there over a decade and was fortunate enough to never have to face a hurricane during my childhood. We got grazed a few times, but nothing serious. I did learn, however, to always prepare. Even though Hugo wasn’t ’supposed’ to hit us, my extended family had prepared for it. We had extra food, drinks, water, dog food, batteries, flashlights, etc. If a similar situation happens again, I will have no sympathy for those who failed to prepare themselves and their families then bitch and moan because the ‘gubmint’ ain’t there to give ‘em what they ‘need.’
I wish I had more of the old photos scanned to include in this piece, but things get buried fairly deep under twenty years of accumulated detritus.
Edit: By the way – those three pine trees are still standing to this day. It seems pine trees can be very bendy.
09.20.09
Trooper Down
SCHP Trooper Jonathan S. Nash was killed Saturday near Camden, SC while escorting a benefit motorcycle ride for a fellow Trooper who was killed by a drunk driver in 1992. I haven’t been able to discover many details regarding the incident.
May he rest in peace.
09.14.09
Functionally Illiterate?
For those that think the secret is finally out, think again. Take note of the headline that states twenty percent of ‘recruits’ are functionally illiterate. The real question should be how many graduate the academy in that condition? Of those that are ‘functionally illiterate,’ how many were educated in the state of South Carolina vs. other states? How many hold a college degree and what type of degree is it?
My observations over the past twenty years are the basis for the probing questions asked above. When most departments did not require a college degree as part of the eligibility requirements, the difference in literacy between officers educated in South Carolina and, let’s say Florida or New York, was noticeably different. Those from other states were usually the better educated officer. I realize this is simply empirical evidence, but it is true, nonetheless.
Now that most major departments either require a college degree, or give hiring preferences to those that hold one, there is only a marginal difference. I have seen many officers with a two or four year degree who don’t know when to use ‘their’ vs ‘there,’ ‘gait’ vs ‘gate,’ ‘hire’ vs ‘higher,’ or any number of other homophones. Many of these same officers write like they talk. Imagine, if you will, reading reports that state, “The subject said he be gonna get his gun,” or, “The victim said he ain’t wanting to persue the matter.” Improbable? Unbelievable? In a word, no. I have read worse stuff than that over the years.
How many of these people turned in their own work and received a true passing grade on term papers? How many college professors are grading on a curve, taking into consideration the state of the State’s education system? How many colleges simply collect tuition and don’t give a damn about either question?
It is my assessment that two factors have major roles in this issue. The first, of course, is the decline of the educational system in South Carolina. When a local high school in a ‘good district’ decides to drop AP and IB courses in favor of catering to problem children with a program like Apex, (additional info here) those students who excel are penalized in favor of students with behavioral problems who are going to be nothing more than certificate ‘graduates’ anyway.
The second factor is technology. It is unfortunate that the age of readily accessible knowledge has produced a lack of knowledge. Most officers want to write solid reports and use MS Word or some other word processing program to write narratives for their reports. As they are doing so they expect the program to automatically point out errors. The spell check in these programs tend to be unable to distinguish homophones and do not check grammar. Just for kicks try typing the following paragraph into MS Word:
Unit number one drove through the inter section at a high rate of speed. After collision with unit number two, the drive of unit one exited his vehicle and walked away with an unsteady gate. There damages were extensive. The driver of unit one smelt strongly of alcohol.
See what I mean? The officer typing that narrative and relying on MS Word to direct him/her to errors probably doesn’t realize the very program designed to help them is actually sabotaging their efforts. We can’t forget the bastardization of the English language used in the age of text messaging. This generation has grown up with this technology. Easy, quick communication and programs to make daily tasks easier are great things, in moderation. They are not a substitute for a solid educational foundation.
School systems should dump the feel good ‘outcome based education’ type programs and go back to the basics. Stick with teaching young children to read through the use of phonics. Once they have that down, throw book report after book report at them. Feel free to use books that engage the child in areas he is interested in. Reading won’t seem like such a chore when the kid interested in skateboarding is reading books about the sport. Writing about subjects the child enjoys will encourage and nurture the skill.
I wasn’t educated in South Carolina, but the system above worked or me. When I was a kid I read the newspaper everyday. Readers Digest and National Geographic were highly prized reading material. I read biographies, history books, science fiction and non-fiction. I made daily trips to the school library and weekly trips to the county library to check out books. I even started reading Webster’s Dictionary at one point. To this day I have magazines and books in every room. Most of the time I am reading two to three books or magazines at once.
Reading truly is fundamental. As a direct result of all the reading I did as a child I became familiar with many, many words. If I wasn’t familiar with the word, I looked it up. Combine all that reading with having learned phonics as a child, and there aren’t too many words I can’t spell properly. Even if I am not familiar with the word I can usually get it right.
Reading also led to a love of writing. Throughout my school years I wrote stories and poetry. I wrote about whatever my particular interest was at the time – skateboarding, UFO’s, the Bermuda Triangle, etc. I even won some awards when I entered poems and stories in contests. I climbed a respectable number of rungs up the ladder of the Scripps-Howard spelling bee before being eliminated by a deviously simple word I can no longer remember.
I have been told I write well and have been told I should write a book. Maybe those statements are accurate, but I take them with a grain of salt. I don’t believe I am destined to be a professional writer or journalist, although that was a career path I considered more than once. Do I have a fairly solid grasp of grammar, reliable spelling skills and the ability to relate events and thoughts in a cogent manner? I believe I do. I also believe I am a great example of an excellent system of learning and the beneficiary of a lot of encouragement from a wonderful group of teachers in the primary school system.
College degree? Nope. My ‘broken home’ meant there was no money for college. I find irony in the fact that I have never set foot in a college class as a student, but have served as an adjunct professor for an out of state college and given lectures at most of the local colleges. This is not meant as a wholesale condemnation of the value of a college education. I do wish I had been able to get a degree when I was younger and I recommend it for all young people in spite of the number of college graduates who can’t find a job now.
College isn’t for everyone, though. I have met many highly intelligent people and critical thinkers who didn’t go to college? Should their intelligence and their experiences be discounted simply because they lack a secondary education? Definitely not. Unfortunately, that is what is happening in many career fields while ‘functional illiterates’ with liberal arts degrees are hired and promoted up the chain.
In closing, let me state that there are no ‘functional illiterates.’ Just because a person can write a half-assed report doesn’t mean he or she is functional. It simply means they are illiterate.
09.07.09
Blogs of War
I spent eight years in the military, in two different services, from 1981 through 1989. The entirety of my military experience was peace-time service. I did spend a couple of years camping out and playing war in the Fulda Gap where the Russian hordes were expected to swarm through in their future attempt to take over Europe. The closest I ever came to being dropped in a combat zone was when Ronald Reagan sent our troops in to secure the island nation of Grenada. My unit was loaded up on C-130’s. Once airborne they handed out live ammunition. That is when we knew this was no normal alert. We never made it to Grenada and were back home with our loved ones within twelve hours. I know I shouldn’t, but I do carry a certain amount of guilt when it comes to the issue of not actually having to fire a shot in anger while fighting for this country. I do, however, have the greatest respect for our current batch of volunteers. I do what I can. If someone in military uniform is in Blockbuster renting movies for family night, I try to cover the cost for them. Military folks ordering dinner around me rarely have to pay for it. It’s my way of giving back because I know our military is severely underpaid and I know their sacrifices are a thousand times the sacrifices I had to make.
I spend most of my time on the ‘net reading police blogs and ‘blogs of war.’ One fascinating aspect of the current conflicts our country are involved in is the accessibility of Soldiers and Marines to write about their experiences via an internet blog. I have always wanted to be a writer and I think I do a decent job, but reading many of these military blogs prove that members of our various services are not the typical low-brow, inept and ignorant trigger-pullers the MSM would have you believe they are. The writers of these blogs, whether officer or enlisted, obviously put a lot of thought and effort into their articles. This is news you won’t get from the television or newspapers. If you want to know how things are going in a specific theater, good or bad, simply find a blog that suits your taste and read to your heart’s content.
Michael Yon’s site was the first I stumbled across. He is no longer a military member, but he has the deep and abiding respect that military folks normally reserve for only their own.BLACKFIVE is also a well-known site for news and commentary from the military perspective. Through a link at BLACKFIVE I found the blog AFGHAN QUEST. AQ is one part military humor, one part military news and one part common sense. There are many others and I’m sure you can find some to suit your taste at MUDVILLE GAZETTE.
You will also find many military related blogs out there that are published by Soldiers and Marines who have returned home, yet continue to write. A review of some of those blogs can provide insight into what a war-fighter returning home to friends and family goes through. Simple things we take for granted can set them on edge, like a vehicle pulling up beside us on a highway. Some come home to a family that has a stronger bond as a result while others come back to families destroyed by the sacrifices made by the family and the service member. Sadly, the divorce and suicide rates of those returning from combat theaters are on the rise. All of us, whether liberal, conservative, or independent need to step up and do what we can to show all service members, particularly those at highest risk, that we DO care and we ARE willing to help. Whether or not we agree with the political decisions behind those conflicts, we should be able to agree that our war-fighters and support personnel are better than most of us. They have left families, friends, hometowns to support and defend this fine Country, our Constitution and make a valiant effort to prevent the terrorists from striking in our homeland ever again.
I for one will not tolerate anyone disrespecting a member of our military. If I roll up on a call and a citizen has been giving the service member a hard time, the civilian stands a good chance of getting a free ride to the no-tell motel. Even if the service member took all he could and then whipped the civilian’s ass – the civilian will still take the trip.
Cops and combat veterans are somewhat alike, so here is the best advice I can give you if you run into one at a party, or standing in line at the Wal-Mart. Feel free to thank the officer or service member for their service and sacrifices they make to protect your community and your country. Do not, under any circumstances, ask them if they have ever shot or killed anyone. It’s a stupid question as well as an insensitive one.
As the anniversary of 9/11/2001 rapidly approaches, it is my personal wish that the country can put aside our political and ideological differences for a day and remember the horrific chain of events that brought us together as a nation for a brief period.
08.30.09
Ex-Con Reaches Out and Ministers to Lieber Inmates
Article in the Charleston Post and Courier. Another feel good article from Glenn Smith. I feel I can comment on this case since the criminal case is complete and the bullshit civil suit Burris filed was dismissed with prejudice, meaning he can’t bring it before the courts again. It isn’t too often an investigator is free to discuss the details of a serious case in a public forum, but I believe the points made above make it possible. I will point out the facts of the case without making any declarative judgements about Mr. Burris. Some of you may have seen Mr. Burris and the pursuit on the television show called “Why I Ran.”
I sincerely hope Burris has managed to stay drug free and turn his life around. It is rare to see success stories when it comes to crack cocaine addiction. His ministry at the prison where he served his four year sentence is admirable. I did note the thinly disguised appeal for a job. If Burris is sincere, I hope he will get an offer of employment. It really is not easy for an ex-con to get a job. Rocky D of WTMA Radio recently mentioned he sees Burris at the gym and believes Burris might be that rare success story.
I investigated this case when I was in the Forensic Investigation Unit. The article indicates that the pursuit continued for several hours. This is not accurate. Burris may have spent some time trying to get officers to pursue him, but the only two actual vehicle pursuits lasted only minutes. After he was transported to the hospital, Burris’ wife told investigators who interviewed her that he left the house that day after stating, “I’m going to die today and a cop is going to kill me.” She later denied making this statement, but it is obvious to all involved that his ultimate goal was suicide by cop. This incident was not Burris’ first run in with police. Just weeks before it took a SWAT team and negotiators to get him out of his home and into custody on other charges.
On the day in question, Burris stole a Ford Crown Victoria he was ‘test driving’ when the salesman got out to pay for gas. The call went out to surrounding agencies that the vehicle was taken in an armed robbery. This report was later determined to be incorrect, but still played a large part in the events that followed.
He tried several times to get officers to pursue him. Burris tried to ram a CPD cruiser that was parked in a median monitoring traffic. Due to CPD’s “no chase” policy, the officer Burris tried to maim and/or kill chose to do nothing.
Then Burris decided to head into North Charleston. Back then NCPD was known to pursue offenders until the wheels fell off or they ran out of gas. One officer noticed his reckless driving and briefly pursued him. When he sped through a school zone the officer wisely chose to break off the pursuit.
I have been in several of the wildest pursuits in department history and I can tell you that choosing to terminate a pursuit is not an easy decision to make in the heat of the moment. Cops have a hard time dealing with the bad guy ‘getting away.’ As I’ve grown older, and hopefully wiser with experience, I have to point out that the old adage about discretion being the better part of valor still holds true.
I will take a moment here to say that the Crown Victoria stolen by Burris holds the distinction of being the fastest stock, to the consumer Crown Vic I have ever seen. Other officers made the same observation. Even the police package Camaro we had at the time had difficulty keeping up. I had several officers inquire about getting the computer chip from that Crown Vic to put in their own patrol cars. Rest assured, this was not allowed to happen because I hold integrity in high regard.
Burris, who was wearing a t-shirt with “SECURITY” emblazoned on the back then drove to a convenience store and stole a couple of bottles of beer. On his way out the door he looked at the clerk and said, “Police business, baby.” He then located a second police unit and attempted to initiate a chase. The officer chose not to pursue. Burris hit I-26 and headed west, then took the Aviation Avenue exit. He was located by a plainclothes unit at another convenience store at Rivers Avenue and Aviation Avenue. When the officer approached the vehicle, Burris made a sudden furtive movement as if reaching under the seat. The officer fired one shot into the vehicle. It is unknown if that projectile struck Burris or not. Either way, he fled east on Rivers Avenue and jumped on I-26 eastbound at Remount Road.
Several officers joined the pursuit, both NCPD and CCSO. Burris exited at Cosgrove Avenue, hitting triple digit speeds as he passed a loaded school bus on the North Bridge heading into West Ashley. He lost control of the vehicle approaching Orangeburg Road and hit a concrete median. This resulted in him flattening at least one tire. Burris then drove into the grassy field of the church located at Hwy 7/171 and Orangeburg Road. He now had three flat tires and the stolen vehicle appeared to be stopped for good. The sudden turn into the field caused two patrol units to crash into each other as they attempted to stop suddenly and block any path of escape.
Officers exited their vehicles and approached with firearms in hand. Burris managed to get the vehicle moving again, jumped the curb and attempted to run down an officer. At that point, several officers fired their weapons. A total of forty eight rounds were fired by those officers. I believe each and every round struck the suspect vehicle. Depending on which news stories you believe, Burris was hit either twelve or thirteen times. He still managed to drive almost a block before the damage to the stolen vehicle brought it to a stop in the median after striking a police patrol vehicle.
I will stop the narrative at this point to correct a common misconception about police officers and the use of deadly force. Officers are trained to use deadly force to STOP THE THREAT. We are not trained to shoot to kill. Neither are we trained to shoot someone in the arm/shoulder/leg etc. We are trained to stop the threat. If stopping the threat causes a minor wound, major wounds or even death is irrelevant as long as we stop the threat. No officer I have ever met actually wants to take a life. It should also be noted that officers on-scene were provided information that this suspect and vehicle were involved in an armed robbery. The fact that this information later proved to be an error does not imply liability on the part of the officers involved.
Burris was taken into custody and officers administered first aid until first responders and EMS arrived. I arrived on-scene immediately after the shots were fired. The scene was secured, with Hwy 7 shut down for hours while we documented the scene, took measurements (thanks to the SCHP and CCSO for their help) and collected evidence. Another investigator and I spent two days with the stolen vehicle in a warehouse with no air conditioning. We documented each and every projectile strike and determined trajectories for the rounds. This analysis, and the fact that no nearby businesses or vehicles suffered any damage, is why I believe that all forty-eight rounds fired struck the intented target. Actually forty-nine counting the shot fired at Rivers and Aviation.
In all actuality, Burris should have had his wish granted that day. He should be dead due the number of 9mm and 40 caliber rounds fired into that car. I believe the only thing that saved him was the way he hunkered down in the driver’s seat when the shooting began. If you believe in divine intervention (I don’t) maybe he was spared the death he supposedly wished for so he could fulfill his apparent calling to reach out to and help others in similar circumstances.
I tend to be the cynical type because I’ve seen so many “recovered crackheads” who weren’t so recovered after all. I truly hope Mr. Burris sticks with it, proving me wrong and doing what he can to make a difference in the lives of others who are traveling the same path.
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08.14.09
Sheriff Restricts Deputy’s After Hours Activities
So, the wonderful ACLU has decided to involve itself in this story. The ACLU has chosen the wrong side, as usual. Sheriff Malone is simply enforcing a policy that almost every law enforcement agency has included in their standard operating procedures for years.
Here is a quote from the policy in question (emphasis added):
“Except in the line of duty, employees shall not visit any bar, tavern, lounge or other establishment suspected by law enforcement as being a place of actual or probable law violation or a place that is frequented by known criminal elements.“
As you can see, this policy is in no way similar to the misrepresentation of the ACLU and the Charleston Post and Courier as quoted below:
“Malone this week warned employees that they could be fired if they go inside bars or nightclubs within the county while off the clock. Malone said the restriction has long been department policy and that he reminded employees of the policy Monday night after hearing rumors that some employees have been frequenting area bars and nightclubs.”
Malone does stray a bit far afield when he included ALL bars with the exception or restaurants that serve alcohol. He will probably have to retract that portion of his ban.
Many departments also have a sentence or two about associating with known felons. In some instances there is no way around this particular restriction. I have a brother-in-law who is a convicted felon, but we still invite him over for Christmas dinner.
Here is an example of how these types of policies work. My wife and I had a favorite local drinking establishment where we would go on occasion to have a cold one. The wife’s best friend was the manager of the place at the time. Unfortunately, the owner decided to associate with a known criminal element in the area, namely an OMG (outlaw motorcycle gang) and their affiliate clubs. As a result, the wife and I no longer frequent that particular establishment due to my department’s policy, which is similar to to that of the Colleton County Sheriff’s Office as quote above. If I had continued patronizing that establishment my command would not have looked kindly on it, especially if something went down while I was present. Due to the importance I attach to my oath as a law enforcement officer and my credibility and integrity, I did the right thing and now hang out in my garage our around the fire pit in my backyard and drink a beer or two.
Colleton County’s policy does not ban officers from every bar in the county, only those suspected by LE of criminal activity. Face facts. As Malone states in the article, many of the shootings in his county occur at those bars and known gang members frequent these places.
On the flip side – there isn’t a single bar in the tri-county area where an experienced and observant police officer can sit for more than an hour and NOT see some sort of hand to hand drug transaction, betting on games of pool, etc. I suspect things are the same way out in Colleton County. Cops are human. We need some down time and stress relief. I have been in bars with a group of family and friends and observed the hand to hand transactions and made the choice NOT to get involved. I’m off-duty and I have been drinking alcohol. According to policy I am also unarmed. I won’t let one or two of these violations get in the way of enjoying a night with loved ones, thus I choose to exercise discretion and overlook certain things.
That doesn’t mean I forget about them. I take mental notes of the activity observed and I’m good at recognizing faces and descriptions. When I go to work the next evening I will definitely be looking out for the folks I observed and have been down to catch them riding dirty.
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