While on patrol together, two uniform officers observed a pair of adult males in their twenties. The subjects were flagging cars to the curb and engaging in quick bursts of conversation before the vehicles departed only to be replaced by others in the ensuing minutes.
The officers made inquiry. After brief dialogue, one officer leaned toward his partner and whispered in a hushed tone, "Hey, something is wrong here. I don't like the feeling I've got, let's check 'em."
Remember the Sgt. Rock comic book published by DC Comics in the 50s, 60s and 70s? Sgt. Frank Rock, an Army NCO who was the star of the series, regularly saved his squad of troops from imminent Nazi-borne disaster by listening to the combat antenna in his head. Rock was a childhood hero of mine.
So what happened with our cops in this story is, the "combat antenna" in one of their heads went off; it's a term I long ago swiped and use to this day to describe the phenomena that is the realization all isn't as it seems, i.e. in those oftentimes unnerving moments leading up to a street-side search for weapons.
In an instant, one of the subjects bolts, sprinting across four lanes of traffic on a busy street in a predominately Latino business district. One officer gives chase on foot; the other stays, clears the air on the radio, and secures the remaining party.
The officer chasing the subject, now a suspect, is tall, lean and in shape. He is striding out, teeth gritted and determination worn on his face. He's gaining quickly, and within three city blocks, he corners his adversary in the parking lot of a family owned laundromat.
When verbal direction goes ignored, the officer moves in for a take-down, and he would have completed the technique but for the fact midway through, he had to commit one hand to securing or swiping away a loaded .22 revolver the suspect had drawn from his waistband. What had just moments before been a garden variety bit of police work in Anywhere, USA, had in a flash become a primal battle for life itself.
Been there done that, and anyone who has found themselves immersed in such a hellish nightmare knows first hand what it feels like: a skin crawling chill, heart hammering beneath your vest, acute audio exclusion, rapid onset of tunnel vision, the copper taste of brute fear, and sheer contempt all wrapped up in a few mind-bending moments of battle.
Though I have confidence the officer in this scenario would have prevailed alone, his partner arrived just in time to blast the suspect squarely on the right cheek. The result of a punch thrown with extreme prejudice, the skin above the suspect's eye splits, a crimson stream cascading down his cheek as he slumps into the pavement, barely conscious.
As far as I'm concerned, the kid is fortunate not to be cold meat, and I told him as much after an Omaha Fire Department medic brought him about with a pinched vial of ammonium carbonate, though in far more diplomatic terms of course. I am, after all, a supervisor of 11 years and I should act like one.
As a young, aggressive, slightly immature police officer 15 or 16 years prior, I would occasionally trash-talk prisoners who had resisted arrest or otherwise gotten under my skin. Make no mistake though, I don't do it any longer and haven't done so for a long time.
How then can officers, supervisors in particular, preserve calm and provoke professionalism in the face of such exciting, angering, and frightening circumstances? How can we do damage control with the public, as citizens tend to observe events such as the one described about the time the suspect gets bloodied up?
I'll make several suggestions, all of which tend to work in real-life policing.
Cuffs On=Fight's Over
We all know there are exceptions to every rule. Cops are bitten by, spit on, and kicked by handcuffed prisoners. Suspects have escaped, assaulted and even killed police officers while wearing cuffs. Generally speaking though, when the "crickets" go on, the fight's over–plain and simple. No giving the guy an extra lick because it was a hell of a fight getting him into cuffs in the first place, or because he's questioning your ancestry afterward. Believe me, the quickest way to a federal subpoena is to strike a handcuffed prisoner. Besides, what sport is there in it?
Train
For Pete's sake already, work out! Do something, anything, to improve yourself physically. A background in wrestling, boxing, or mixed marital arts is invaluable. Too old to start? Nonsense. I took up Muay Thai in my 40s and am an avid fan of the Crossfit model of physical fitness. The point is, the better prepared and more trained you are, the more quickly and efficiently you'll be able to overcome a violent suspect, and the less likely your actions will be viewed as prolonged or excessive by uninformed witnesses to the arrest.
Equipment
Avail yourself of the latest less-lethal options your department authorizes. If that represents only a baton and OC, at least be familiar and proficient with them. If you work for a progressive agency which authorizes Pepperball and TASER, get certified and carry them with you on patrol. I know of Pepperball-certified officers who get lazy and don't want to carry the gun bag to the car at the beginning of their shift. True, they have a ton of gear to tote, but that's flat irresponsible. Also, excuses about not wanting to take the shock for TASER certification are just that, excuses. I'm friends with a 110-pound female officer who took the probes and full five-second energy burst. You can too.
Supervisors: Be Present!
The culture in some agencies is, supervisors only get involved when something critical happens (i.e. shooting, pursuit, barricade). It's time for this precept to change. Street sergeants need to be relieved of administrative drudgery that ties them to a desk. They should be expected to make calls with the troops, even plain vanilla calls which frequently morph into a high stakes/high liability situation for the department. The bottom line is, a sergeant worth their salt strives to participate. If you're a patrol supervisor in disagreement, maybe you shouldn't be wearing the stripes to begin with.
Talk
Once it's safe, engage the arresting officers in conversation about the incident. Thank them for remaining professional in such gritty, difficult circumstances. It's tough for a cop, still high on adrenaline and emotion, to center his sometimes negative attention on an arrestee when you're patting him on the back, telling him you appreciate his effort, and asking him to walk you through the incident.
Talk to the suspect too. Explain the situation, tell him what he's likely to face by way of charges, and ask for his cooperation in what's about to ensue, for instance, transportation to the correctional facility or police station, interviewing, processing and booking.
Finally, consider talking to the citizens who have come out of the woodwork. Nothing feeds curiosity like the flashing light bar of a cruiser and nothing fosters suspicion and poor police-community relations than a rough arrest and the glare of angry looking police officers, particularly in impoverished minority communities.
Thus, if the opportunity presents itself, approach and politely explain what transpired, why the officers did what they did, and what's to become of the suspect. While you have no obligation to reach out in this way and there are times it would be imprudent to do so, I've allayed fears and diffused what were sure to have been formalized complaints by simply taking the time to paint a picture for upset citizens.
Let's face it, street level police work can be a nasty, unattractive thing at times. Take 60 seconds and make people feel better about it if you can.
Epilogue
The events described in this article aren't fictional. They erupted on a calm afternoon in my hometown mere weeks before this column was published. Not able to arrive quickly enough to help subdue the violent, armed gang member who was resisting arrest, I was still the first backup officer there.
By engaging to the degree I could, by calmly asserting myself and politely explaining reality to the suspect and onlookers alike, the aftermath of the incident was a smooth one. In the final analysis then, if we can do the job without killing someone or getting killed ourselves, without offending or being misunderstood by those outside the circle, and while currying trust in an ongoing relationship with the public which otherwise might be destroyed, we all win.
As a former athlete, football has always been analogous to policing. I like the aggressiveness of it all, of winning despite sometimes overwhelming odds, and the sensation of victory in the form of a solid arrest. So my brother and sister paladins, get out there. Score and score often. Just remember this about the public: it's not us against them, it's us with them.
