Blog #11: Operation De-Occupy LA

"America will never be destroyed from the outside. If we falter and lose our freedoms, it will be because we destroyed ourselves."
-Abraham Lincoln

The execution was flawless. The collateral damage was virtually non existent. The mission was accomplished. Many of my friends and family texted, facebooked and emailed me throughout the day leading up to, during and after the LAPD closed down protester’s tents and physically evicted them from the lawns of City Hall late Tuesday evening. After a 24-hour shift, my back was killing me! My greasy face, my tired eyes and my gel-less hair were evidence of a long day at work. It wasn’t a pretty sight. I fell onto my bed like a rock and was surely snoring as soon as my head hit the pillow. The following day I wanted to hear anything but the newscasts about this “Occupy LA” movement. I went into a local coffee shop, injected some caffeine into my veins, and read my book. However the buzz about the eviction was inescapable. There were groups talking about it while I tried to read. I use “talking” instead of “debating” because the conversations were clearly one-sided. Here I was. Recovering from a 24-hour shift. I was proud of what my brothers and sisters in blue had accomplished. Only to be surrounded by coffee shop patrons verbally bashing the efforts of my organization! So I went back home for some good old cable TV instead. But of course, the media’s top headlines were all about the eviction. So, I gave in and listened.

Surprisingly enough the media was quite fair about how they reported on the logistics of the operation. They didn’t have much to report about except for how smooth and how relatively peaceful the event unfolded. All the cameras were focused on City Hall. The coordinated plan of action allowed protesters on the lawn time to leave and gave them other resources and options to take advantage of. Some made the decision to be peacefully arrested for the good of their cause. Officers contained the perimeter, moved in and took action in the most professional way seen throughout the country. Preparation and training allowed for a successful eviction of the controversial “Occupy” movement....LA style!

While order was being maintained in the focal point of the occupier’s encampment and while the media focused all of their attention at ground zero of the protest, they did not cover the action in the streets surrounding the area. These so-called Anarchists got wind of LAPD’s shutdown of “Occupy LA” through various social media networks. They descended onto the downtown area in scattered groups ranging from 20-50 people cloaked in black bandanas around their faces, but their efforts were futile. We were too well organized, too prepared and too mentally ready. The Anarchists tried to get into the City Hall lawn but were turned away by squads of LAPD officers lined up in blockade forces. They jumped fences into private property, damaging everything in their path, desperately trying to get into the epicenter of the “Occupy” movement and cause destruction, but we outflanked them at every turn. It was a beautiful sight. And it was like music to my ears hearing the communication between our LAPD Air-ship and the ground troops working harmoniously together to shut down their efforts. No major incidents. The architects of our battle plan covered all bases. And it was a complete success. (“Anarchists” are a seditious group of protesters who have used violence to disrupt otherwise peaceful protests around the country).

There are many different aspects to our country’s current economical woes. There are many people with very opposing views and very opposing ideals of how our country should be run. There are countless factors that contribute to the situation. To address the root causes, the “how’s” and the “why’s”, would be to write a never ending novel. The big picture of our country’s problems is way too dynamic and multi-faceted to point one’s finger at the police. But it seems that when these dilemmas come full circle, the flashpoint always occurs with the police, even if the matter at hand never involved them in the first place. However, when the pot does boil over, the police are the easiest to point there fingers at and the easiest to direct their anger towards.

Allow me to give you a viewpoint through the lenses of a police officer.

Mass protests affect many people. Other citizens are affected by these protests. The frenzy of media vans and an influx of vehicles driving through to take a peek at the tents on the City Hall lawn add to the downtown LA traffic. Those who reside in the surrounding neighborhoods are taken away from their normal day to day lives. They are forced to deal with the crowds of protesters, media personnel, police officers and looky-loo’s who have taken over their neighborhoods. Those residents have the same rights as the protesters. And it is our responsibility to take action and protect their rights as well. What is the command staff of my department supposed to tell community residents when they complain about the protesters? Ignore them? Sorry, but the protester’s rights are more important than yours? It’s a tough balance. The department asked for for the patience of residents. The police department also asked for compromise from the protesters, but to no avail. The city leaders ignored the protesters violations for almost two months. They ignored the concerns of citizens affected by the protests for almost two months. How long can city leaders ignore citizens on the other side of the coin? To who’s expense? And on who’s behalf? The shut down was inevitable, but the protesters had options to protest legally therefore expanding and elongating their stay. But they collectively refused. As a police officer, I am not offended by them. But when there is a whole other population affected by these actions and I sit back and do nothing, it constitutes a failure to do my duty.

I have been to numerous protests in my 8 years as a police officer. A yearly protest at the Israeli Consulate on Wilshire Blvd. Several gay rights protests at random locations throughout the city. Countless union protests at different grocery stores. Scores of protests at the Federal Building for a slew of different causes. During all of those protests that I have worked, I have always been in the shadows. Out of sight, out of mind. Standing-by only as a precautionary measure. Never have I donned my riot helmet. Never have I had to use force to remove protesters. There have been a handful of those where the protesters chose to be peacefully arrested. The protest leaders were always well organized and worked with city officials and LAPD command staff in order to maintain a safe environment for the people to practice their First Amendment Right. The leaders of these protests worked in unison with city officials and LAPD command staff to ensure the best possible way for their voices to be heard AND to ensure the safety and fairness of the community surrounding the protest location. Protest leaders understand that any altercation with police will take the spotlight off of their cause. It makes perfect sense.

A second police perspective I want to convey to you are the hazards of the encampment in Downtown LA. Lice, Staph infection and Meningitis were found in the encampment before it was shutdown. The grass was soaked in urine. Feces were piled high or buried in the dirt. Generators with exposed electrical chords lay in the open next to highly flammable tents. Children slept next to scurrying rats and cockroaches. I saw it with my own eyes! The fire department cited several health concerns. They went in and identified those hazards. They did their job. It was then the police department’s duty to ensure the safety of surrounding citizens and they occupiers themselves by shutting it down.

Our actions were recently compared to a “Nazi Soldier” who simply followed orders while people were murdered in concentration camps. This person also compared our actions to “racist police of the fifties” (I won’t mention who told me this). The comparison displays a deeper seeded issue of how governmental power and oppression have gone hand in hand in worldwide past and current events. The comparison is like looking into a rear view mirror, it opens our eyes on how historic clashes between the police and the people they serve have shaped society’s attitude towards law enforcement, (future blog topic). But as I stand in formation with my fellow officers, with duty and justice in my eyes, it still scares me to know that people look at me in uniform and think that way. My duty is to restore order to chaos. It is not always a pretty scene when force must be used. But the last time nothing was done, my neighborhood when up in flames during the 1992 LA Riots, (refer to Blog #5: “April 29th 1992”).

Sadly in today’s world, the politics of different situations puts many people, (soldiers, officers, citizens, families, etc...), in danger. The protest in Downtown LA is no different. I see the “Occupy LA” movement as a two-pronged problem. The politicians & the protesters.

The first problem is the political leaders making decisions from the top. They allowed politics to play into their decisions. First they allowed and even condoned the protests. Then later when they realized the protesters were in it for the long run, they went back on their initial sentiments. Mixed messages were given to the protesters. They the politicians scrambled to find a solution when it should have been dealt with from day one rather than allowing it to drag on.

The second problem are the protesters themselves. City leaders atleast attempted to compromise with them. They were given alternative protest locations, free housing for those who were homeless, temporary locations to store their belongings and many resources for food and shelter. Protesters instead decided to ignore all efforts for a peaceful compromise. They threw tomatoes at police (don’t worry it missed me by a mile), they posted “police brutality” signs, they pointed their middle finger at me (that actually kinda hurt). My questions are: Why not assemble legally? Why not take the land offered by city officials to conduct the protests? Voices would be heard on a much more positive platform. The negativity used against police would be spun into positivity for their cause. It just seems like the better solution.

There is something to be said about the worldwide protests of 2011. Time magazine named “The Protester” the Person of the Year. And I agree that WAS the most influential person in 2011. It was a year that will be highlighted in future generations to come. A time that will be compared with the civil rights movement and Vietnam War protests of the 60’s, and even with the nuclear weapons protests of the 80’s. There’s something honorable to say about how much the masses will put up with and what they are willing to do in order to be heard. The anger behind these protests around the world is understandable. And with online social media moving at light speed, the world is now on a jumbo-tron for all to see at the click of a mouse. The dynamics leading up to this unique time in human history and the projections of where we might be headed are intriguing topics. But the purpose of today’s entry is to give you my view point of Occupy LA as an insider behind the small plastic window attached to my riot helmet. I don’t claim to have the right answer, I can only assure that this is MY answer. An honest viewpoint from me: A son, a brother, a friend, a cousin, an uncle, a God-father and a fellow survivor of Da Hood.

The 99% theory is an interesting concept. Coming from food stamps and free school lunch tickets, there are many things I can definitely agree with. On the flip side, being in law enforcement and witnessing some of the failures of our society firsthand through a window of violence, I see a habitual circle of poverty and an ugly side of our current society that upsets me about the solutions offered by the 99% as well. I have my views on both sides of the fence. I am a true believer of our constitutional right of free speech and assembly. But our other responsibility to safeguard everyone affected cannot be ignored. As a community, we task those responsibilities to our police department.

We have a responsibility to protect everyone’s rights.
We have the responsibility to maintain order.
We have the responsibility to protect our own safety in the process.
We have the responsibility to ‘maintain restraint in the face of scorn or ridicule.’
We have the responsibility to clean up the mess after all is said and done.

It’s a difficult balance that I challenge you to ponder. How would YOU ensure our citizen’s 1st Amendment Right while not alienating other citizens who are simultaneously affected? If we can agree that this is not an easy task, then I believe there is hope after all.

And while we work on that hope, I’ll be working on my Hitler ‘stache! Until my next blog, dawg!

PIECE LOVE & WHISKEY

dedicated to liz...

Fallen Officer Since Last Blog: 9 Souls
Total Line-of-Duty Deaths for 2012: 19 Souls

Deputy James I. Thacker
Pike County Sheriffs Dept, KY
End of Watch: Monday, January 23, 2012
Age: 53 years
Tour of Duty: 5 years
Cause of Death: Head-on traffic collision
Survived By: n/a

Officer Gail Thomas
Atlanta Police Dept, GA
End of Watch: Tuesday, January 24 2012
Age: 46 years
Tour of Duty: 15 years
Cause of Death: Struck by a drunk driver while assisting with a traffic incident
Survived By:

Officer William D. “Bill” Talbert
Montgomery County Police Dept, MD
End of Watch: Friday, January 27, 2012
Age: 64 years
Tour of Duty: 13 years
Cause of Death: struck by a DUI driver while on duty in 1983. A blood transfusion saved his life but the blood he received was infected by Hepatitis C. His health deteriorated eventually leading to his death.
Survived by: wife, daughter, three sons, ten grandchildren, and sister

Master Corporal Sandra E. “Sandy” Rogers
Aiken Dept of Public Safety, SC
End of Watch: Saturday, January 28, 2012
Age: 49 years
Tour of Duty: 27 years
Cause of Death: Gunfire at a suspicious vehicle call.
Survived by: parents, two brothers, one sister, and her life-long friend.

Police Officer Steven Green
Mobile Police Dept, AL
End of Watch: Friday, February 3, 2012
Age: 36 years
Tour of Duty: 1 year, 8 months
Cause of Death: Stabbed by prisoner.
Survived by: wife, son, and two daughters.

Reserve Deputy Don Williams
Dale County Sheriff’s Office, AL
End of Watch: Wednesday, February 8, 2012
Age: 55 years
Tour of Duty: 17 years
Cause of Death: Automobile accident possibly caused by medical emergency prior to accident.
Survived by: wife and six children

Detective David White
Clay County Sheriff’s Office, FL
End of Watch: Thursday, February 16, 2012
Age: 35 years
Tour of Duty: 9 years
Cause of Death: Gunfire during a drug house raid (meth-lab)
Survived by: wife and two children

Sergeant Michael Todd May
Monongalia County Sheriff’s Dept, WV
End of Watch: Saturday, February 18, 2012
Age: 41
Tour of Duty: 11 years
Cause of Death: Vehicle pursuit, rammed by suspect’s vehicle.
Survived by: parents and brother

Trooper Tony Radulescu
Washington State Patrol, WA
End of Watch: Thursday, February 23, 2012
Age: 44 years
Tour of Duty: 16 years
Cause of Death: Gunfire during a traffic stop.
Survived by: his son.

Blog#10: Law Enforcement’s Violent Encounters with the Mentally Disabled

“Judgements prevent us from seeing the good that lies beyond appearances.”
  -Wayne Dyer


Our police radio blared out yet another radio call on this busy Friday evening:

“20-Adam-14, 20-Adam-14, Handle a violent male with mental illness at Olympic Blvd and Western Ave, suspect is wearing a camoflauged jacket and black pants walking in and out of traffic and wielding a Samurai sword. Handle Code-3, incident 1124, RD 2036.”

“Code-3” means respond with lights and sirens. We were on what seemed like our hundredth code-3 call that day. I put up our windows, took a look in my rear view mirror and hit the light bar/siren switch with my right hand while my left hand maneuvered the steering wheel for a swift u-turn, all in one fluid & rehearsed motion. As I readied myself for a high adrenaline race through Koreatown’s rush hour traffic, my partner read out loud the comments of the radio call from our police car’s computer, he communicated with dispatch for updated details of the knife wielding man and used a different frequency to communicate with our responding police helicopter, all the while clearing my blind spots at every single intersection.

I weaved through stubborn cars with clueless drivers, trying to catch momentum between red lights. Watching for pedestrians with headphones on who never look right- left-right before crossing the street. I surgically hit sharp right turn apexes and purposely spring loaded my police car’s shocks with the skill of a Nascar driver, all the while looking for potholes, stray dogs and distracted motorists. My partner yelled out “CLEAR RIGHT!” in between his updates with our dispatch and his coordination with our police helicopter above. All the while he kept verbally reminding me of the suspect’s descriptors and updated location. I imagined the intersection’s landscape, pre-planned my tactical approach to the scene and burned a mental image of the suspect’s possible description into my psyche.

As we arrived at the scene the helicopter above directed us to his exact location. South west corner, no Samurai sword in sight. We spotted him immediately. Tall guy. Thin. About 45 years old. Scruffy, greying beard. Talking to himself and apparently to God as well. My partner yelled orders for him to turn around and put his hands on his head. The suspect still had on his camouflage jacket, but he decided to remove his pants completely before we arrived. He continued to talk to himself, agitated and furious he then put his hand into his jacket. We drew our guns anticipating a weapon. Instead the man removed his jacket and continued his rage in his birthday suit. At this point we were confident he did not have any swords on him. We had a second police unit with us. And plenty of less lethal munition at the ready. Efforts to verbally calm him down failed. He yelled threats on our lives and screamed that God would forgive him.

By now there were six officers on scene. Roughly 10-seconds had passed. Cars still sped by the busy intersection as we formulated a plan. Usually one officer is dedicated to less lethal force such as the Taser or beanbag shotgun. One officer is dedicated lethal force if necessary. One officer is dedicated to communications over our police radio. And the remaining officers go hands on to handcuff the suspect. That way all bases are covered. But before we were able to complete the assignments the suspect sprinted towards the street where vehicles were still speeding by. We instinctively swarmed the suspect! We were able to stop his sprint into traffic successfully avoiding motorists getting hurt, avoiding the suspect getting hurt and avoiding having to run into traffic ourselves. As we all caught up to him, an anonymous voice yelled out “Don’t hurt him he’s mentally retarded!”

Next thing we knew one officer immediately took a knuckle sandwich to his teeth. The suspect’s sweaty body made it next to impossible to control his arms. He flailed those lanky arms wildly, two more swings finding their mark on officer’s faces. He rear- kicked in my direction missing my groin by inches. He bucked and fought. A 50,000 volt Taser blast to his back only infuriated him even more. It didn’t cause massive pain or cause his body to contract uncontrollably like it did to me in the academy. Oh no. Instead he ripped out the metal prongs that clung onto his bare skin. This is not an infrequent occurrence and usually caused by a suspect being under the influence of some sort of narcotic. The close quarter fight did not allow for OC-spray (pepper spray) or a baton to be deployed. I hit him with all my strength. Two times on his rib cage and two times on his temple. I heard him grunt as I punched him. But it did not seem to phase him. Another officer, 6-foot 4-inch/280 lbs of muscle, jammed a well placed knee into the suspect’s gut. Only then did his hands stay in one place (his belly) long enough for us to gain control of his arms. We handcuffed him but he was not finished yet. Even while handcuffed his rear-kick struck an officer on the chest. Pain compliance techniques were applied to him even while he was handcuffed. It was the only way to ensure other officers did not get hurt any further. It was the only way to ensure he did not get up and run into traffic. It was the only way.

About ten punches later, two unsuccessful Taser blasts, countless pressure point attempts and one gigantic UFC style knee to the solar-plex, six officers lay on a bloody and naked handcuffed man. He finally took a break. We used that small window of opportunity to tie his legs and carry him into the police car.

We were finally able to lick our wounds and catch our breath. We were oblivious to the small crowds that had gathered while the incident transpired. The sea of smartphones pointing in our direction was incredible! The same voice yelled out “It takes 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 officers to beat up a retarded man??? This is brutality!” Another voice yelled, “Cowards!” Yet another yelled, “Ten officers against one skinny guy! That badge must make you feel really tough!” I overheard a conversation in Spanish about the atrocity of police abuse and how she now had the undisputed evidence recorded in her iPhone. We were surrounded by sneers and by people shaking their heads in disapproval. My sergeant was on his way to interview witnesses and hopefully quell some of the negative perspectives of the on lookers. But sadly I knew most would not bother to listen.

What my colleagues and I saw as a small victory, was viewed by the witnessing community members as an abusive, heavy handed, power hungry police force. The more I thought about it the more I did not understand why the community did not see what I saw. I took a step back and pictured the scene from an outsider’s point of view:

Six officers versus one skinny man. Punches to his body and face. The sound of a Taser’s electrical current. Blood spewing from a naked man’s face. His twisted arms in unnatural positions even after he was handcuffed. Feet tied like an animal. Carried by a slew of officers and thrown into the backseat of a police car without even tending to his wounds........Wow. What savages we must have looked like.

I recently became involved in a heated debate with my eldest brother at a Mexican restaurant in Highland park. He could not understand the level of violence used in the recent Fullerton PD incident where a mentally unstable man died as a result of his injuries from a confrontation with police. I realized it was next to impossible to convince him that serious injury or death, while rare, is always a possibility and does not mean that the officers involved had bad intentions or were out of policy when conducting their duties. I also realized that my brother’s point of view was an example of most of people’s opinion in that crowd of smartphones during my fight with the naked man.

I believe that in order to help bridge a closer gap between the community and the police department when it comes to this issue, there needs to be an understanding of three equally important points.

1.Understanding our department’s use of force policy
2.Understanding our department’s training in dealing with the mentally disabled &
3.Understanding the fact that police action is always a reactive measure

My objective here is not to spit out boring definitions of our use of force policy but to hopefully shine some light on our policy through real life examples of the fluidity of different scenarios.

Any brute can use force to overcome a person’s actions. But the delicate science of reacting to a suspect’s aggressive attacks APPROPRIATELY is one that requires knowledge of policy, law and plenty of real life experience in dealing with violent suspects on the streets. It also requires quick split second decision making when reacting to an aggressive suspect. As an officer I have to react and stay only one step above a suspect’s violent acts. If I go two steps above I can be out of policy or even in violation of the law, which can equate to losing my job or being arrested myself! If I stay on the same level of violence with a suspect, I risk being hurt. If I go one level under the suspect’s violence, that means I am dead policeman. The next time you see me I will be in a casket at a beautiful police funeral, next to my crying mother who is being handed an American flag by Chief Beck. There are thin lines between appropriate force and criminal behavior. The windows of opportunity to stop a persons violent actions are extremely small. And it can mean the difference between going home safely, or risking serious injury or death for all parties involved.

So for example if a suspect raises his fists to fight me, I do not fight force with equal force. I will not put my fists up and square off for a fair fight. I will raise my defense to one level above the suspect’s actions. My OC-spray, my Taser, or my baton. Being one level above the suspect’s actions does not mean I am an abusive, heavy handed officer. It means I am fighting smart and looking to win and go home alive. I am looking to win against an unfortunate physical conflict against a mentally disabled person which can potentially put innocent men, women and children in harms way. If that suspect produces a knife, my options open up for lethal force. It makes no sense at all to take my knife out and fight the suspect like a Michael Jackson “Beat It” video! Now, if the suspect throws the knife down and approaches me with fists clenched, I have to quickly holster my firearm and stay only one step above his actions. If he retrieves another knife, I have to adjust my level of force. If he again throws the knife down and goes to his knees with his hands behind his head, I have to drop my level of force considerably. If I approach and he turns on me and tries to wrestle me, I need to quickly react and stay one level above his actions. As officers we play by the rules of our use of force policy and the laws of our land. We fight against people who do not have any rules. That makes our tasks much more difficult as we balance physical dangers and career survival decisions.

The second point I believe is important for the general public to understand is our training in dealing with the mentally disabled and the realities of applying that training in real life field situations. There are no doubt several mental health concerns that officers come in contact with on a day to day basis. Schizophrenia, Autism, Delusional, Bipolar Depression and the list goes on. There are also temporary mental health concerns that we confront on a daily basis. Some of these include Diabetic Shock, Alcohol Intoxication, narcotic highs from methamphetamine, acid, PCP and many others. In the police academy we are trained on how to deal with these different mental states. We are trained in how our own behavior as a police officer can set them off, what behavior is best to calm the situation and other options and resources that can be attained in the field. Those are just a few things we are taught. We have a field response team with a psychologist that responds to many of our mental illness radio calls. We learn from each encounter. We learn from examples around the country and allow those examples to influence our policy, mindset and tactics in order to better deal with the mentally disabled. Continuous improvement is a fundamental quality we strive to achieve. Police departments around the country comprehend the sensitivity of these issues. They understand how horrible it looks when force is used by police to take a mentally disabled person into custody. Most police departments support their officers, knowing fully that police work can be ugly at times.

In the field, time is needed to decipher if a person has a mental health disorder or is intoxicated. Unfortunately, having the luxury of time when an incident unfolds is not guaranteed. Even more unfortunate is how the importance of deciphering between these two mental conditions (mental disorder vs. intoxication) greatly decreases at the moment of a physical altercation. These truisms of violent street encounters with people who are not in the right state of mind are important for the citizens to comprehend. To add to the fundamental differences of opinion between the police and the community, the extremely important part for the community to comprehend and accept is that at the moment a fight ensues, the person’s mental illness is automatically a non-factor. It might seem calloused and cold, but when a person attacks a police officer or any citizen for that matter, it does not matter at all if the suspect suffers from a mental illness or not. It transforms from preparedness and caution to survival.

Lastly, in order to diminish some of the hatred community members might have against police officers, I believe it’s important for the non police mentality to understand one key factor: A police officer’s violent acts are always a reactive measure against someone else’s initial violent act. It is never initiated by officer’s themselves. Officers must find the safest way to handcuff a potentially violent mentally disturbed person. That is not an easy task, and sometimes that task escalates into a fight (from my experience, most of the time officers succeed in safely and calmly handcuffing these individuals).

Most normal people are not exposed to violence on a day to day basis. So understanding that an unfolding incident is a scary, extremely violent and brutal scene is not second nature for the public. Yes there are fists breaking noses. Yes there is one person very outnumbered by many police. Yes there are aluminum batons breaking bones. Yes there are bullets searing through human flesh. Sometimes a person’s schizophrenia makes them believe that officers are evil spirits here to take them to hell. Sometimes PCP can make a person’s pain threshold extremely high. It is a crazy cruel maddened world out there. Thats the reality of life. In the scope of inner city violence, officers deal with that violence head on so you and your family don’t have to, yet we get unfairly scrutinized when using that force.

Taking into account our use of force policy, our training with dealing with the mentally disabled and the realistic act of violence itself being a reactionary instinct by police rather than an offensive measure, I hope can give the public a better understanding of the complexities of dealing with violent encounters with the mentally disabled.

I was not at the Fullerton PD incident. With my expertise and training in dealing with these violent encounters I can say that it is possible for one of these scenarios to lead to a person’s death. The fact that most of these events end peacefully is a reflection of great police work by law enforcement officers across the nation. Even with my expertise and knowledge in these type of situations, I can not make a blind determination of any actions by the Fullerton PD officers. If the officers involved had bad intentions to hurt the individual, then they deserve to be punished to the law’s fullest extent. My intent here is not to pass judgement. I only want to make clear how such violent encounters CAN result in serious injury or death even when the correct decisions are made.

Keep those smartphones handy, LA...because you never know! Until my next blog, dawg!

PIECE LOVE & WHISKEY

Total Line-of-Duty Deaths for 2011: 173 Souls (13% increase from 2010)
Fallen Officer Since Last Blog: 100 Souls
Fallen Officers for 2012: 10 Souls

Sergeant Abimael Castro-Berrocales

Puerto Rico Police Department, PR

End of Watch: Sunday, January 1, 2012
Age: 40
Tour of Duty: 20 years

Cause of Death: Gunfire, shot twice in the face by unknown assailant during traffic stop
Survived by: Wife and 3 sons

Park Ranger Margaret Anderson

United States Department of the Interior - National Park Service, US

End of Watch: Sunday, January 1, 2012

Age: 34
Tour of Duty: 11 years
Cause of Death: Gunfire, shot with a rifle at a roadblock during a 90-minute gun battle
Survived by: Husband and 2 young children

Agent Jared Francom

Ogden Police Department, UT

End of Watch: Thursday, January 5, 2012

Age: n/a
Tour of Duty: 7 years
Cause of Death: Gunfire, shot while conducting a drug-related search warrant
Survived by: Wife and 2 young children

Deputy Sheriff William Coleman

Maricopa County Sheriff's Office, AZ

End of Watch: Sunday, January 8, 2012

Age: 50
Tour of Duty: 20 years
Cause of Death: Gunfire, shot below the vest by a rifle during a burglary radio call
Survived by: Wife and several children


Detective Andrew F. Faggio

New Haven Police Department, CT

End of Watch: Wednesday, January 11, 2012

Age: 46
Tour of Duty: 14 years
Cause of Death: Automobile accident while responding to a stakeout assignment
Survived by: Wife and 2 children

Correctional Officer Clarence Tariq Hammond, III

Michigan Department of Corrections, MI

End of Watch: Saturday, January 14, 2012

Age: 33
Tour of Duty: 6 years
Cause of Death: Gunfire, shot in a botched robbery attempt, while arriving home in uniform
Survived by: 2 young sons

Deputy Sheriff Randall L. Benoit

Calcasieu Parish Sheriff's Office, LA

End of Watch: Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Age: 41
Tour of Duty: 18 years
Cause of Death: Automobile accident, head-on
Survived by: n/a

Agent Francis Crespo-Mandry

Puerto Rico Police Department, PR

End of Watch: Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Age: 55
Tour of Duty: 24 years
Cause of Death:Gufire, shot during a gas station robbery
Survived by: Wife and two children. He is also survived by four brothers, two who serve with the same agency, and one sister.

Sergeant Barbara Ester

Arkansas Department of Correction, AR

End of Watch: Friday, January 20, 2012

Age: 47
Tour of Duty: 12 years
Cause of Death: Stabbed, stabbed twice in stomach by inmate hiding contraband
Survived by: Husband who also serves with the same department

Officer Garret Davis
Honolulu Police Deptartment, HI
End of Watch: Saturday, January 21, 2012
Age: 28
Tour of Duty: 3 years
Cause of Death: Car accident, rear ended while stopping his police car behind a stalled vehicle on the left shoulder.
Survived by: n/a

(February's Blog #9 teaser: Occupy LA)

Blog #9: My personal choice to carry a firearm while off-duty: Is that a Glock .45 in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?

“Let him who desires peace prepare for war.”
-Flavius Vegetius Renatus

“Hey, rookie! You’re in the Wild Wild West now. Might wanna put some meat on those bones or the wind might carry you back home to mommy!” Laughter filled the roll call room. I didn’t dare turn around. The anonymous voice from the back of the room continued, “Make sure you meet me at the gym after end of watch!” I replied with an obedient “Sir, yes, sir!” I was assigned to infamous 77th Division. 11.9 square miles of an iniquitous part of the city located smack in the middle of South Central Los Angeles. A small section of the city where remnants of the crack boom from the 80’s still snarled it’s ugly teeth. Nefariously claimed by a culture of gang-warfare, toothless prostitutes and an illicit drug trade. It’s a place where children play gaily and naively in school yards adjacent to walls spray painted defiantly with “Rolling 60’s” “Hoover” “Nine Duece Crip” “Slob Killa” & the occasional “Fuck LAPD” or “187 Officer [insert name here]”. The local “crackheads” push shopping carts in masses. They trudge along with their jaundiced eyes & missing teeth, aged beyond belief. Their uncannily slim bodies proof that addiction had gripped their lives long ago. Liquor store walls lined by jobless alcoholics who drank all day and all night from brown paper bags, it’s contents a mystery.

The summer of ’05 was a particularly violent summer. The infighting between a violent street gang on the west side of the division filled South Central sewers with a steady flow of fresh blood. With each vicious homicide I continued to develop and hone my police skills. Sadly there was plenty of practice to go around. Setting up a crime scene became second nature to me. Even the Nation of Islam stepped in with a failed attempt to quell the black-on-black murders occurring on a daily basis. But even with their attempt at peace, a clash with police nearly broke out into a riot. It was surreal. It didn’t seem to make any sense. Every addict had crack. Every parolee ran from the police. Every gangster had a gun. Every pursuit ended with force. Every PCP suspect fought officers until the bitter end. Every officer involved shooting was one too many. It’s a small section of the city where bullets are fast, violence is plentiful and life is cheap.

Most police officers will remember their first year on probation for the rest of their lives. The dreaded “rookie year” is the first 13-months spent in the streets immediately following the academy training. It is a time period where you take everything you have learned and apply it to the streets. A probationary time alloted to determine if a person has what it takes to do the job or not. It’s sink or swim in a world full of hungry sharks where rookies are seen as the guppies at the bottom of the food chain. We had to earn our keep in a fast division and most of us figured out real quick we were far, far away from the safe & comfortable air-conditioned classrooms back in the academy!

On my very first day on the streets my probation officer had me remove my academy issued low-top parade shoes and put on my boots. He ordered me to add any additional ammunition and any additional handcuff case onto my duty belt. He had me get rid of my academy issued firearm holster (he referred to it as the “Take-Away 2000”) and replace it with a holster that had atleast double retention capabilities. He made it clear that certain things I will have to earn. However incidents unfold fast and hard in 77th Division and certain equipment can mean survival for the both of us. Little did I know that on my first day I would be counting bullet holes on a dead 22-year old drug dealer’s lower extremities, compliments of a fully automatic rifle. Little did I know I would be making the death notification to his hardworking mother. Little did I know a parolee would run from me while handcuffed with MY handcuffs on him. Little did I know I would conduct a search on a crack addict who had freshly defecated in his pants, therefore learning a valuable lesson in ‘gloving-up’ and what’s known in the medical world as ‘universal precautions’. And all on my first day! Every citizen, gangster, thug, pimp and stray dog I came in contact with could smell the brand new leather I wore. My virgin duty belt still squeaked from lack of use. My boots were untarnished and missing scuffs, further announcing my inexperience. My bald head screamed: ROOKIE!!! My stance was a perfect robotic posture. I might as well have had a neon sign above my head that read: “First Day Rookie!” I have to confess I didn’t know much about ACTUAL police work yet, but I was ready handle business if called upon!

Believe it or not, one of the first things I was taught early in my career was to lie. Honesty is a trait in my character and in my profession that I don’t take lightly. But even with that, I was taught to lie to strangers when I was off-duty. I was told to always have a different profession in mind when asked what I did for a living. It was a let down to not be able to share with others who I was and what I did. I was, and still am, extremely proud of my profession. So why was I taught to lie about my day job? Unfortunately, the stigma of being a police officer comes with negative perceptions, stereotypical assumptions and a bona fide hatred for what I do. Telling the wrong person I’m a police officer can often mean having to deal with small discomforts: bad service, “special” sauce in my food, questions, expectations, people shaking their heads in disapproval. Those are only little things. I can deal with that. But what if the person is a true cop-hater? That would suddenly put me in a hostile position when all I wanted to do was be honest during small talk with a total stranger.

So I thought of what profession would be fitting AND believable. What would suit me? Doctor? Can you see me in a white coat with a stethoscope hanging on my neck? Me neither. Fighter jet pilot for the good ol’ U.S. of A? I could go on and on with stories of top secret combat missions behind enemy lines! Impressing the ladies! Then once they asked too many questions I could end it with the classic: “I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you” That would be rad! Hmmm....naw, not believable enough. I thought some more. Maybe I could tell people I was a Chip’n’Dales Dancer. I looked down at my beer belly and knew THAT idea was not an option either. After a while I noticed the question came up a lot more than expected. So I finally decided on the pseudo-career of firefighter. Both the professions of firefighting and police officer are in the business of saving lives. The difference is people actually like firefighters. So there it was. I was officially unofficially a firefighter for the city of Los Angeles. I was on probation when I was told to lie about my profession while off-duty. And it didn’t take long to figure out there were more serious reasons to hide the fact that I was a police officer to strangers while off-duty.

This finally brings me to the topic at hand: My personal choice to carry a firearm while off-duty. I have debated quite frequently with a couple of my family members on this issue. I have been accused of trying to be a “tough guy”. So I want to attempt to find the fulcrum between the police officer mentality and the non-police officer mentality on this issue by explaining some of the reasons why most law enforcement personnel choose to carry their firearm while off-duty, or atleast MY personal reasons for doing so.

First and foremost I want you to remember that I chose to work in the very same community I lived in. I did that for over three and a half years. Only after realizing the danger that posed to my mother did I decide to move elsewhere. Even now that I moved I still frequent my old neighborhood when I visit my family and friends. Forget the fact that I’m a police officer for just a second. As a fellow survivor of the hood I understand the realism and frequency of violent crimes in the neighborhood I am from. I continue to live a big part of my life there. It is obvious that one can live in a bad neighborhood without being armed and live a relatively worry-free day to day life. But the fact that I am allowed to carry a concealed firearm off-duty and choose to do so has nothing to do with me trying to be a “tough guy” and everything to do with the protection of my family and friends when I am with them. I cannot protect them every second of the day, but knowing firsthand the violence that occurs, my sense of responsibility to protect them when that worst what-if scenario hits the fan is paramount in my soul! This reason for me carrying a concealed firearm while off-duty is THE most important reason for me doing so.

The second reason I wanted to explain is the fact that a police officer is more prone to encounter violence on AND off-duty as compared to a normal citizen. A sad truth in the world of ‘good guy vs bad guy’ in America is the notoriety a gangster will achieve if he/she assaults or even kills a police officer. Most gang members have been put away or know someone who has been put away for a long time behind bars. Their sociopathic ways always lead them to believe it was the cops fault that they or their loved one is doing or has done hard time. They truly believe that they are the victim and the police officer is the sole reason for their criminal record. This results in a hatred for any person in an police uniform. It’s an ugly game of cat-and-mouse on the streets of LA. As a police officer, I’m game when they are! It’s all fair play out there on the streets. However, when police officers are off the clock and their uniforms come off, the rules do not change. It’s a small world. There are countless stories of my co-workers being off-duty and running into a gangster or thug they arrested a week prior. Think about an off-duty officer in this situation with his/her daughter or son at the park or local supermarket. Should we as a society say, “Oh well! He’s off the clock! The gangster should know that and take it into consideration!” I’m hope the answer is an overwhelming “no”. The criminal element in todays modern world is even brazen enough to follow police officers home at the end of their shifts and ambush them! It’s frightening to know the general public never hears about these attacks. A police officer is called upon by the community for protection from gangsters and thugs on the street. They put themselves on the line to protect life and property. Sadly when they go home at the end of the night, the violent world of ‘cops and robbers’ continues. It doesn’t cease when they clock out for the day. It is a reality that police officers live with every day of their life and, in my eyes, a perfectly valid reason to carry a concealed firearm while off-duty.


April 16, 2007-Virginia Tech Massacre: 32 shot dead, 23 others wounded
April 20, 1999-The Columbine Shooting: 13 shot dead, 23 others wounded
November 26, 2008-Mumbai, India: 10 terrorists, 172 shot dead, 293 wounded


I searched “shooting rampages in America” for a few examples to list and was taken aback by the number of shootings at workplaces, shopping malls, schools, churches and parks across our country. So I simply listed three well known shootings above. In this modern day of terrorist attacks around the world and homegrown al Queda cells within our own borders, protecting our citizens is a priority. Be it from international or domestic terrorists. It is a daunting threat that looms precariously over our country and we must continue to find ways to protect our citizens on many fronts. Former President Bush took the police officer’s right to carry a concealed firearm one step further and allowed that right to be exercised in any state in the country. It was done in the interest of Homeland Security from both domestic and foreign terrorists. Like him or not, it was done in the interest of YOUR safety and livelihood as well. Whether it’s a terrorist attack on our soil, or simply someone gone postal in a public place with numerous potential unarmed victims (an unimaginable phenomenon that has occurred over and over and over again in our country), an armed off-duty officer is a benefit to our country, our society, our community and our families.

Some might argue that off-duty officers carrying a concealed firearm is a liability to our community and puts citizens in greater risk of injury. It’s imperative that I explain my thought process as a trained professional. An extensive part of my training, along with that of my colleagues, is our off-duty responsibility while being armed. I was taught that I am more useful as a good witness and alive rather that a dead hero. Drawing and exhibiting my firearm while on an off-duty capacity is even more dangerous than doing it while at work. I do not have the luxury of a partner, extra ammunition, a back-up gun, a radio to call for reinforcements, a bullet proof vest or even a uniform to provide an obvious identity of who I am & my intentions. Officers know these dangers well. I also have to balance the situation at hand and be sure it’s worth putting the loved ones I am with in precarious positions. Obviously it’s all thrown out of the window in an immediate defense of life situation, but these are decisions that have to be made at a moment’s notice. It takes a person with higher training and a true sense of responsibility to carry a firearm off-duty. We always have to AVOID conflict at all costs and always be the bigger person when challenged BECAUSE we are armed. I feel comfortable enough in my training and in the discipline of my trade to carry a firearm off-duty.

Throughout my probation and further into my career I have observed senseless violence at levels that boggle the mind. It has evolved into a greater sense of readiness (not to be confused with paranoia). With time, a part of me has become calloused to the initial sting of such violence. The frequency of robberies, murders, rapes and beatings on a day to day basis is an epidemic that slowly became part of the reality of my life. Have I became jaded in a sense? I would be lying if I said I wasn’t. As much as I love my profession, I make a conscious effort to balance out my off-duty life as a way to combat the harsh effects so much exposure to violence can have on my the mind, body and soul. But no matter which way you slice it, at the end of the day, even after I clock out and am officially “off-duty”, like it or not I will remain a police officer. My actions in my personal life are scrutinized at a higher level than a civilian. As a police officer, an error in judgement can cost me my job or even land me in prison. The same error in judgement committed by a non police officer will have little or no effect on that person’s profession. It’s a higher set of standards I live my personal life by and a way of life I accept with pride.

Certain career fields choose you. They are an encompassing representation of a person’s personality and character. If someone is lucky enough to be in a profession that they feel they were destined to do, it usually comes with a higher degree of passion in ones duties. In so many of these career fields when it comes time to clock out, the person lives their personal life as most do. However, in the core of them, the thread of what represents the foundation of their belief system can never be truly shut off. Law Enforcement is one of those careers.

Bottomline: no police officer wants to be put in such an unnerving situation. Especially while surrounded by their loved ones. But there are REAL reasons why I choose to carry my firearm while off-duty. It is not to be that “tough guy”, rather it’s the nature of my profession coupled with my sense of duty to protect the safety of family, friends, community and of course: myself.

Well, it’s that time again, time to “clock out!” Until my next blog, dawg!

PIECE LOVE & WHISKEY

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Fallen Officer Since Last Blog: 4 Souls
Total Line-of-Duty Deaths for 2011: 73 Souls

Police Officer Robert V. Oswain
New York City Police Department, NY
End of Watch: Saturday, May 15, 2010
Age: 42
Tour of Duty: 10 years
Cause of Death: Toxic material inhaled during Sept. 11th 2001 terrorist attack
Survived by: Wife, parents & 5 siblings

Police Officer Andrew Garton
Hawthorne Police Department, CA
End of Watch: Thursday, May 26, 2011
Age: 44
Tour of Duty: 7 years, 6 months
Cause of Death: Motorcycle accident while providing funeral escort for fellow officer
Survived by: Wife & 2 children

Sergeant Kenneth Gary Vann
Bexar County Sheriff's Office, TX
End of Watch: Saturday, May 28, 2011
Age: 48
Tour of Duty: 24 years, 6 months
Cause of Death: Ambushed by gunfire while stopped at a red light
Survived by: Wife & 3 children

Police Officer Kevin Will
Houston Police Department, TX
End of Watch: Sunday, May 29, 2011
Age: 38
Tour of Duty: 1 year, 8 months
Cause of Death: Struck by a drunk driver’s vehicle while investigating a hit-and-run
Survived by: Expectant wife, 2 children & parents

Blog #8: “But You’re Raza! Why Are You Taking My Car?”

“Discussion is an exchange of knowledge; argument is an exchange of ignorance.”
-Robert Quillen

The outdated marquis at my middle school reads: “Beautiful Berendo”...but to the lesser non-aristocratic commoners, a better known name was “Berendo Burritos.” It was a condescending school moniker, yet it’s pupils (including myself) were strangely supercilious to it’s connotation. Maybe it was the burritos-in-a-bag we doused with salsa packets atleast once a week. Maybe it was the ESL classes we were all forced to attend. Or maybe it was the correlation of a “burrito” with a student body made up of mostly Latino immigrants. **Shoulder Shrug** What I DO know is those burritos tasted quite scrumptiously delicious and oh so Heavenly!!! : )

The school sat on a downward sloping street called Berendo. It’s front entrance crossed 12th St where a picture perfect staircase lead to the campus’ blue front doors. Above the doors was a medium sized marquis gallantly bearing our school motto. Stepping behind those doors was like entering a portal into the pubescent realm of adolescent existence. A world filled with life altering rumors, never ending peer pressure, countless moments of “first times” and traumatic homeroom crushes. Unwitting boys chasing girls with their eyes in a perplexed state of catatonic transfixion on the opposite sex. Zombie-like in their gait coupled with a bizarre smirk that could only equate to one thing: Pre-Teens playing the game of Growing Up, high from the hormones-on-acid coursing through their veins while they ran amok!

That was life in middle school during the early 90’s. We’d stop at Dino’s on Pico Blvd for dollar fries in a brown paper bag, translucent from the grease. We confronted the usual obstacles in Da Hood on our walks home, then we would return early the next morning to do whatever it was we did all over again. However, even with all the memories I shared with my closest friends during my tenure at Berendo Middle School, there was something that just didn’t fit. Even with the congruency in our upbringing and culture, there was always one factor in my life that made me different from most of my peers: RACE.

Everywhere around me were pressures to fill in the bubbles describing my race "accurately and completely". It was a normal question on various official forms and documents. The smudges of lead from erasing, filling and re-erasing those bubbles on my Scantrons proved my ethnocentricity. I was a bit sheltered in my home. Well, in BOTH my homes. I lived in a one bedroom apartment with my mother and my two elder brothers. We were a family of four who spoke Spanglish, ate Guatemalan food and went to a Catholic Church. All fine and dandy. On the weekends my older brothers and I would go to my fathers house, which included my younger brother and step-mother. My dad would speak to us in a quasi Thai/English language, we took our shoes off when we entered the house, we ate mainly Thai food and went to a Buddhist Temple. The juxtaposition of cultures was normal to me. It was the best of both worlds! It was great!

As I entered middle school, the idea of “identity” became all too clear to me, or should I say UN clear. I was Latino (or Hispanic, whichever makes you comfortable) in a school made up of mostly Latinos but for some reason it was important for my Latino friends and acquaintances to make it clear to me that I was “only half”. I was also Asian, but apparently my facial features were not Oriental enough for me be accepted on that part of the school yard. The normal question of my life was “What are you?” There was always a big bright asterisk floating just above my head like a huge, annoying, pulsating, class-5 zit!

I always wondered why the people around me didn’t let me be both races. I did not understand why I had to choose one or the other. I was always “only half”. Eventually that confusion metamorphosized into a strong acceptance of who I was. Today, all the applications and empty bubbles in the world could never make me question my identity. It’s pretty simple actually, I merely fill in the race bubble that reads “other”. I decided I would let others get caught up on labeling me, while I moved ahead.

(Side Note: My personal experience with identity is my own, I do not wish to take away YOUR personal identity. I do believe identity is an important part of culture and society. More importantly I respect whatever identity you choose for yourself.)

These personal experiences have molded me into a person who believes strongly in the acceptance of others no matter what. When I joined the police department, I incorporated this part of who I was into my work ethic in policing. It has been one of many successful mental tools I have used to make sense of all the senselessness around me.

Three years into my career. I was partnered up with one of my best friends. Life in my career field was all hunky-dory. I knew it all. Confident beyond belief. Young and loyal to the cause of justice. Then the day came when I realized the importance of my power and authority to conduct traffic stops and confiscate peoples cars and THAT is where our story begins:

It was a quiet and still chilly November night. The long johns under my uniform were no competition for the frigid wind that whipped through the cockpit of our police cruiser. On this particular night, I sat on the passenger seat. The right side of my face was icy cold to the touch. Keeping the windows rolled up while on patrol is a tactical no-no for various reasons. It’s a luxury we don’t have the benefit to enjoy. A tactical nuance that holds importance in more ways than one. We had just entered our police car after playing teacher/lecturer/psychologist/parent at a radio call of a family dispute. I immediately pressed my hands up to the heater vents and began defrosting my fingers. The feeling in my ears, nose and face slowly crept back from numbness. As we drove off into the brumal streets of Koreatown, I saw two cars up ahead with their hazard lights on and a person waving his arms attempting to catch our attention. An apparent traffic collision. Easy enough.

Our investigation of the traffic collision revealed that one of the parties did not have a license, registration or insurance. He had two small children who were appropriately bundled up. His car’s bumper was dented and scratched. The driver of the other car had a license. He drove by himself. His car a bit banged up as well. Thankfully, nobody was injured. My partner began the collision report as I began on the vehicle impound report. The unlicensed man was in his late 30’s. He was a family man. The paint chips on his clothing, callouses on his fingers and painting tools in his trunk where more than enough for me to understand that this was a hardworking man. Another unlicensed driver on the streets of Los Angeles. Like many other unlicensed Latino drivers, he was unable to get issued a driver’s license because he was undocumented. As I began my report, the unlicensed driver noticed me taking notes on his vehicle. I asked him if he needed anything from the car before I impounded it. He looked at me with a disgusted look. Then he said: “But You’re Raza! Why Are You Taking My Car?” (Raza=Race, referring to our assumed shared race) Apparently the angle of the street light upon my profile made me look more Latino than Asian on this particular evening. He then gestured over to his two children as if looking for pity.

A flurry of emotions ran through me when he said that. I felt anger. Angry at him for blaming me for HIS actions. I felt guilt. Guilty that my police authority was the reason for these kids walking home in the cold. I felt content. Content that justice was served for the other legally licensed driver. I felt sad. Saddened by all of the other issues concerning immigration that affect everyone in our community. I felt confusion. Confused on my intentions of being a police officer. I wanted to help people, but now I was taking away someone’s car at the scene of a fender -bender on one of the coldest days in the city’s history!

I eventually convinced myself that taking away his vehicle was not only mandated by law and my department, but also that it was the correct action to take. Allow me to take you on a walk through the mind of Me:

1. California State Law and my department policy state that I SHALL impound the vehicle of an unlicensed driver with a 30-day hold penalty. I have enough career survival sense to know that allowing these unlicensed drivers to continue driving opens myself and my department up for major liability. If I allow an unlicensed driver to drive and he/she becomes involved in an unfortunate accident, that accident will be my fault. Neglect-of-Duty issues arise and now I can lose my job. Especially if the accident is a serious one!

2. Getting a driver’s license requires a written exam and a driver’s test. The dangers and responsibilities behind a wheel are serious enough to make driving a vehicle a privilege not a right. Even a citizen or legal resident cannot have a driver’s license without passing these exams. It’s a right that gets taken away with the irresponsibility of driving as well.

3. Think about the fairness to other drivers on the road. Most of us pay our registration and insurance costs. Most of us would not want a person driving a vehicle who did not take the appropriate schooling and exams to drive safely. Especially when we are out there with our children in the car, right?

If nothing else helps to make you see the ugly side of unlicensed drivers, think about this before continuing all the hullabaloo about me impounding an unlicensed Latino’s car. I recently went to civil court as a witness for my girlfriend who was involved in a traffic collision with an unlicensed driver where he was at fault. Somehow, she still lost the civil lawsuit against a person who should have not been on the road to begin with. She is currently paying his medical expenses and his salary for days he lost at work due to the accident. It was a minor fender-bender. Believe it. We are all vulnerable to this. All of us.

The “But You’re Raza! Why Are You Taking My Car?” inquiry did bother me a bit. Someone asking me to give them leeway for the simple fact that we possibly share a common ethnic background equates to a form of racism. It’s an offensive gesture that challenged my integrity and my identity, but I stood strong in my beliefs of who I am. An officer impounding an unlicensed Latino driver’s car has nothing to do with race, or unfair immigration rights, or me being Raza. It has everything to do with protecting the community from injury, civil suits, costly vehicle repairs and hiked insurance prices.

I believe the issue of immigration is an extremely serious topic in our country today. It is especially significant in Los Angeles where the Latino community consists of almost half the population (48% county-wide and 46.5% city-wide, according to the latest census). It’s the second largest ethnic group in the city. The debate over immigrant rights is not what I wish to tackle on this blog. We can go back and forth on countless issues and remedies. Sure we can begin legislation to allow undocumented immigrants to apply for drivers licenses, but until then it would be a disservice and unsafe for the police to allow unlicensed driver’s to simply drive off without repercussion. The reasons I mentioned above cannot be ignored.

I also want to challenge you with this: The next time you see an officer impounding a person’s vehicle, remember first and foremost that you cannot judge that officer merely on the face value of what you see. There are many other factors in an investigation that you do not know. Those factors can range from drug charges to child abuse charges, from DUI’s to stolen vehicle charges. You simply do not know. Judging my police actions of impounding vehicles without knowing the full story is simply not fair. So the next time you see a police officer impounding a vehicle on the side of the street, I hope this blog will influence you to think about the big picture before shaking your head in disappointment.

This message has been brought to you by a proud “Berendo Burrito” alumni...until my next blog, dawg!

PIECE LOVE & WHISKEY

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Fallen Officer Since Last Blog: 2 Souls
Total Line-of-Duty Deaths for 2011: 69 Souls

Border Patrol Agent Eduardo Rojas Jr.
United States Department of Homeland Security, DC
End of Watch: Thursday, May 12, 2011
Age: 35
Tour of Duty: 11 years
Cause of Death: Vehicle struck by train
Survived by: Wife & 2 children

Border Patrol Agent Hector Clark
United States Department of Homeland Security, DC
End of Watch: Thursday, May 12, 2011
Age: 39
Tour of Duty: 10 years
Cause of Death: Vehicle struck by train
Survived by: Wife & 2 children

Blog #7: My World of Donuts and Violence

The following video is a deep and emotional confession to the candid truisms of donuts & violence:

http://www.youtube.com/user/watchitbend7?blend=3&ob=5#p/a/u/1/GNn6Yy3aAtY

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Fallen Officer Since Last Blog: 2 Souls

Sergeant Brian Dulle
Warren County Sheriff's Office, OH
End of Watch: Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Age: 36
Tour of Duty: 12 years
Cause of Death: Vehicular assault
Survived by: Wife, three children, parents, and two siblings.

Trooper Andy Wall
Tennessee Highway Patrol, TN
End of Watch: Saturday, May 7, 2011
Age: 36
Tour of Duty: 7 years
Cause of Death: Motorcycle accident
Survived by: Parents, sister and girlfriend

Blog #6: Are Mandatory Verbal Warnings Before Utilizing Deadly Force Necessary?

“A good battle plan that you act on today can be better than a perfect one tomorrow.”
    - Gen George S. Patton

I had a debate with my Brother/Blog Editor, Dennis J. We debated about the pro’s and con’s of mandatory verbal warnings before utilizing deadly force as a police officer. At the end of the debate I realized I was unable to convey the importance of my point. Maybe it was my lack of debating skills. Maybe it was the Jack Daniels in my system. I’m not sure, but the debate was heated! I struggled all this week on a method to make the non-police mentality understand that mandatory verbal warnings equal deadly consequences for innocent victims and show too much fairness for murderers. Finally I decided to keep it simple. No need for statistics. No need for long descriptive scenes of tense stand-offs. It’s a simple game of What-If’s:

What would you do?

You see a gangster thug low life pointing a handgun at a cowering senior citizen’s head. (Sadly, a common occurrence and an actual scenario I observed from nearby surveillance cameras.) Mr. Lowlife yells at the victim, “Give me all of your money!!! I’ll fucking kill you!” His finger dangerously flirting with death as it hovered over the sensitive trigger. The senior citizen’s eyes are huge, filled with terror and panic. Mr. Lowlife doesn’t notice you there. You have a gun of your own.

What would you do?

1.Shoot him on the arm? What if you miss? What if you miss and then he kills the senior citizen? What if you DO hit him on the arm but it does not immobilize him and he kills the victim anyway? Then what?
2.Would you WARN Mr. Lowlife to drop the gun? What if he turns and shoots you before you can finish the statement? What if he gets startled and shoots the senior citizen?
3.Would you wait and hope he doesn’t shoot. Maybe he’ll just rob the senior citizen and leave. Or maybe not. What if? Are you willing to knock on his family’s door and tell them that they have to make funeral arrangements because you wanted to be fair and warn a criminal who had a gun pointed to their family member’s head?

I can What-If this scenario a thousand ways. This particular surveillance video showed Mr. Lowlife pistol whip the senior citizen into unconsciousness. He then went into his pockets and removed an unknown amount of money and a gold crucifix that hung from his neck. I want you to put yourself in the senior citizen’s place. This time it’s me who spots Mr. Lowlife pointing his gun at YOUR head. I’m watching it unfold as I draw my firearm from it’s holster. All the while my sharpshooter medal gleams proudly on my uniform chest. Would you want me to yell out a warning? Would you want me to attempt to shoot his arm? Would you want me to wait and see what happens in hopes of him not shooting you? Remember, his gun is pointing at your head. What actions are fair to you? Should I balance Mr. Lowlife’s rights with yours at that moment in time?

Think about somebody you care for deeply and endlessly. A grandparent, a son or dauhter, a parent, your husband or wife. Picture his/her eyes being huge, filled with terror and panic as that gangster thug low life points his gun to their head. As you helplessly watch this unfold, you see me in uniform with my gun. What would you want me to do? If you could yell at me to save your loved one, what instructions would you yell? Honestly. If it were my loved one in that situation I would want that cop to do what he is paid to do and shoot that lowlife! End his life and make it a quick death! Not because I like death. Not because I am some kind of trigger happy police officer, but because a sure quick death is the only way I can assure my loved one doesn’t get shot! The fair chance at life in this situation SHOULD be given to my loved one.

If we look at the other side of the coin, many more What-If situations can occur as well. What if the scenario is not so black and white. Maybe what you see is actually an off-duty police officer pointing a gun at a robber. Maybe a victim was able to wrestle the gun out of the suspect’s hands and has him at gunpoint while waiting for police to arrive. The ultimate decision to shoot falls on the trained officer’s determination of the totality of the circumstances. Given all the scenarios mentioned above, yes a verbal warning could prevent tragedy in certain situations. It’s an unfathomably difficult situation to be placed in. As a police officer, it is my duty to utilize my training and experience to make the right decisions on a case by case basis. By developing my training, constantly going over the countless What-If scenarios and learning from actual police occurrences around the world I continue to build and improve on my expertise. Thus, there is justification to trust that I, or any other officer, will make the best decision given the situation at hand.

No police officer wants to shoot an innocent person. No police officer will shoot at a person who they think is off duty officer or citizen protecting himself. If I were forced to give a mandatory verbal warning before shooting my firearm in every single situation imaginable, it would equate to neglect-of-duty on the police officer’s part when that innocent victim is shot. In my opinion the negatives of mandatory police warnings far outweigh the positives. Either way it proves once again that police work is no picnic!

Death and violence runs rampant in Los Angeles. We are used to the bad guy causing death and violence. But somehow when a police officer uses death and violence to protect life, the officer is scrutinized as a brutalizer rather than regaled as a hero. I’m not suggesting we have a parade for every officer involved in a shooting. But in scenarios like the first one mentioned above, the actions from a police officer that cause death and violence actually saves lives! If you cannot agree with that then stop reading here.

Applying to the police department was never an agreement to get shot. I don’t get paid to die. My profession does not have me sign a waiver saying I agree to be paralyzed by a bullet shattering my spinal chord. I signed up to protect life and property of citizens in my community. While I know the inherent dangers of police work, there is no stipulation of my own potential murder written in the job description. I am not aware of any one of my duties requiring me to give a criminal a fair chance to kill you or me first. There is no job in the world with these requirements. Think about our troops on the battlefields protecting our freedom. I want every single one of them to come home safe and healthy to their families. I assume that is a goal we all wish for. Because their duties include defending our shores through war, should we allow the enemy to shoot .50-caliber rounds at them BEFORE they defend themselves? That sounds silly and absurd. The battles on our own nations streets and neighborhoods are no different.

I gave an “extreme” example of the negative consequences a mandatory verbal warnings can have. The scary truth is that a scenario like Mr. Lowlife vs the senior citizen is actually not that “extreme.” This type of criminal violence is a sad and realistic truth. Having a mandatory verbal warning rule before utilizing deadly force will cause an officer’s hands to be tied behind his back when one of these tragic scenarios unfolds. Scenarios of life and death. Scenarios that have no room for compromise.

It is understandably hard to comprehend the fact that a person actually has the ability to shoot a gun at the face of complete innocence at point blank range. Even as a police officer who is constantly exposed to violence, I sometimes find myself shaking my head in disbelief when I am investigating certain crimes. Some situations may call for a verbal warning before the use of deadly force. However, binding an officer into giving a mandatory verbal warning before pressing the trigger does not account for all cases where innocent victims or police officers themselves would be placed in a greater chance of dying by doing so. Think about whose rights a police officer has the duty to protect at one of these situations. The possible outcomes from all the What-Ifs in the world will NEVER balance out on the criminal’s side.

If you don’t agree with my values on this matter, I hope I atleast gave you a different perspective. If, God forbid, you are ever in the grim situation of having a gun pointed at YOUR head, I hope I can be there for you with my sharpshooter medal, my gun and of course, my values on this matter...until my next blog, dawg!

PIECE LOVE & WHISKEY

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Fallen Officers Since Last Blog: 2 Souls
Total Line-of-Duty Deaths for 2011: 65 Souls

Police Officer Rolando Tirado

Buckeye Police Department, AZ

End of Watch: Sunday, May 1, 2011
Age: Not available

Tour of Duty: 11 years

Cause of Death: Gunfire

Survived by: Wife and two children.

Captain Ralph Braden

Wartburg Police Department, TN

End of Watch: Monday, May 2, 2011

Age: 58

Tour of Duty: 22 years

Cause of Death: Assault
Survived by: Mother, step-father & brother

Blog #5: April 29th 1992

Inspired by my cousin, Melissa Waller.

An orange glow blazed brightly from the 12-year old's bemused face. He stood silent and transfixed on the scene before him. Like in a dream his ears were temporarily muffled by the shock and the fear. All sound was blocked out for a sliver of time as he looked on with hypnotized eyes. Black plumes of smoke cast off of his innocent eyes like a projection on an old silent movie screen. A fiery backdrop of hellish fire roared in silence behind him, evoking curious amazement in the 12-year olds expression. The horizon of haze ascending into the skies told a muted story of anarchy and chaos from the streets below. As this 12-year old stood on the roof of his apartment building four stories up, gazing into the orange glow, the sudden shatter of business windows snapped him back into reality.

Down below, the streets he was used to playing jovial games of 3-Flys-Up and Pickle with other neighborhood kids had transformed into one of disorder and disarray. Familiar families pushed Jons Market shopping carts filled with TV’s, stereos, Nintendos, shoes and clothing. They scurried down the street with smiles on their faces as if they had just won the Publisher’s Clearinghouse Sweepstakes, only to return up the street a short time later with now empty shopping carts, ready for a second, third and even a fourth freeloading frenzy. Nothing was out of the question. A family somehow managed to fit a sofa, three tires and a cash register into one of those shopping carts! I remember the register’s power chord getting stuck on a fence and tipping over. They laughed uncontrollably as they mounted their new “belongings” back into the shopping cart then continued on with their precious family time. Back and forth the laps continued. It was a highway of thievery at the peak of rush hour traffic!


The 12-year old wondered why his friends, neighbors and acquaintances would participate in such destruction. He continued to watch...

The friendly Jons Market manager walked down the street with a bloody face, a beating from the very customers he smiled to on a daily basis. The 99-cent store owner who always smiled and greeted you in Spanish with a thick Korean accent stood in front of her store. She had her hands on her head and tears in her eyes. She was powerless while the same customers she was happy to serve everyday shattered her windows, stole her belongings and ruined her life.

The sharp clash of shattering windows from one of the many appliance stores on 8th St. drew in a mindless mob who ran from business to business, emptying the stores of everything that wasn’t nailed to the floor. The 12-year old could see the other rooftops from where he stood. Korean business owners held AK-47’s in one hand and water hoses in the other in an attempt to protect their businesses and their families. A Korean mother hunkered over her two children, genuflected and put both hands up towards the sky as if asking for answers. But there were no answers. There were no miracles. There were no police. Only lawlessness, violence and complete devastation.

April 29th 2011. It has been 19-years since the infamous Los Angeles Riots of 1992. I found myself looking back at my 12-year old self on that rooftop. As I drove around those very same streets, now proudly donning a police uniform and badge, I couldn’t help but have a moment. My mind flashed back to the eerie absence of police sirens. I remembered the surreal presence of military tanks rumbling down my neighborhood and the images of innocent bystanders being beaten on live television without repercussion. As I drove this past Friday in my black-and-white I decided to turn onto my old street and stop my police car in front of the 840 S. Ardmore apartment of my childhood. I couldn’t help but to look out onto the streets and picture all the ignorant violence that took place there 19-years ago. It was a moment in my childhood that filled me with dejection, confusion and heartache. It was THE defining moment in my life that awoke my fervor for duty and justice...

...and the rest, is history...