detectives – Page 2 – Thonie Hevron Author

By Hal Collier

The story you are about to read is true, the names have been changed to protect the embarrassed. As usual I will call my accomplices by first name only. This should be my last rookie mistakes story, unless I have an epiphany. Ok, how many of you are looking up the definition of epiphany? Webster defines it as “a moment of revelation or insight.” See, I already improved your quality of life.

I was on probation and my training officer, Joe, was a Jedi Master of reading people. He could read body language and tell if a person was carrying a gun or about to run. During interviews he could tell if a person was lying. His favorite trick was to ask a question with his hand on the suspect’s heart, males only of course. It was kind of like a hand lie detector. If the suspect’s heart was racing, he was lying. As all good training officers, Joe was trying to teach me the fine art of reading suspects.

Lucky Strike cigarettes photo by tobaccopub.net — Lucky Strike cigarettes
photo by tobaccopub.net

During a pedestrian stop, Joe told me to place my hand over the suspect’s heart and see if he was lying. As a green rookie, I did as I was told. Joe asked a few questions and then asked me what I thought. I replied, “Cigarettes, Lucky Strikes, I think”. My hand was over a pocket on the suspect’s shirt, which did in fact hold a package of cigarettes. They were Camels. I guess I’m going to need more training.

We had a new lieutenant who was pretty proud of his new rank. This wasn’t anything new with some. All they needed was a good lesson in humility[TH1] . There was this lady in the station who was hysterical. She was screaming and all the efforts of the police officers to calm her down were in vain. Our new lieutenant said maybe if she had a lieutenant talk to her she would be reasonable. The lieutenant said “Hi, I’m Lieutenant Doug.” The lady kicked Lieutenant Doug right between the legs. The officers came to the lieutenant’s rescue, but I think some had a smile on their faces.

In 1976, the old Hollywood station was scheduled to be torn down. We would move into an interim station a half a block away. I was light duty due to a broken ankle which I broke playing basketball. Anyway, I was assigned to Detectives on Day Watch. I answered phones, distributed crime reports and was a gopher boy. On a bright sunny Saturday, I was on the second floor of the old Hollywood Station. I didn’t mind Saturdays because the detectives were all off and I had the bureau to myself. Some slow Saturdays I would change chairs of Detectives who gave me a hard time. Don’t screw with a bored cop!

I answered the occasional phone call from a citizen and read teletypes. I noticed that the phones had stopped ringing and things seem rather quiet. I saw one of the phone lights, light up and I picked up the phone. I heard the old time desk officer answer the phone. I asked why he was answering the detectives’ phones and he said because they all moved to the interim station. I went downstairs and found all the doors locked and a sign directing people to the new station down the street. I’m not sure whose rookie mistake that was but I had the distinction of being the last officer to actually work in the old Hollywood Station.

After a few years we were set to move into the new Hollywood Station. They had a big new men’s locker room with over 400 lockers. A bathroom, showers and a weight room. There was even a running track on the roof. They needed to assign the 300 or so officers to their new lockers. They gave the assignment to a brand new rookie sergeant. I’m sure this new sergeant wanted to do a good job but lacked the foresight to accomplish his mission. He assigned all of A.M. Watch to the first two rows of lockers. That’s about 40 officers all trying to dress at the same time in the same 2 rows of lockers. The locker rows were as crowded as a shower on a cruise ship. If you’ve ever been on a cruise you know how small the showers are.

Cooler heads prevailed and the officers from all the watches were spread out. That probably saved the sergeant’s life and career.

Practical Joke

During the fun days of the L.A.P.D. practical jokes were a way of dealing with stress. Now days a practical joke is considered racial, sexual or gender bias. I guess we’re all lucky to have retired with our pensions.

We had a sergeant who thought more of his personnel motorcycle then he did of the working officers under his command. I made the mistake of parking my police car right next to the back door. I had a Hollywood nut case who was handcuffed and hog tied. That’s feet bound up so he doesn’t mule kick you or the back window of the police car. We will have to carry him to our car. The sergeant arrives at work and wants us to move our car so he can park his motorcycle. I explained my dilemma, but he wasn’t impressed.

I spent the next few weeks putting a small puddle of oil under his motorcycle. I even put some on the bottom of his motor. I wonder how long it took him to figure out his motorcycle didn’t have a leak? Your tax dollars at work.

Hal

[TH1]

Ramblings: Death Notifications

The following post is somewhat out of order. So much for best laid plans…

Hal is beginning a series on types of calls. I don’t know what came before this one so we are starting anew and will post one every week for the next six weeks. Enjoy!

By Hal Collier

If you found my last Ramblings depressing, this one won’t cheer you up. I usually like to write about the fun and sometimes exciting side of police work. This is a darker side that most cops dread—death. I’ve put off writing about death for over a year and even waited for the holidays to pass.

I’ll admit that most cops won’t shed a tear when some dirt bag gets killed trying to rob a liquor store that is owned by a gun carrying NRA member. Drug overdoses where the hype still has the syringe sticking out of his arm won’t even cause a rookie to blink. The news media always makes a big deal out of cops giving each other a high five after surviving a “my life or your death” shooting. You will never see the news show an emotional cop who just had to tell a family member that their loved one is not coming home.

Death Notifications: That task usually falls to the coroner but when the deceased passed away in another state, the coroner needs someone to make arraignments for the body. They call the local police and ask them to inform a family member also known as a Death Notification. If it’s a homicide the Detectives will make the notifications because they have questions for the surviving family members, like did you know he was a gang member or mass murderer?

Death notification Photo by Policemag — Death notification
Photo by Policemag

Some notifications go easy, the recipient already knew that their uncle had died, or expected the news any day. Some didn’t care, but asked if they were in the will. Most were very difficult. A complete stranger in uniform comes to your house, often in the middle of the night and knocks on your door. The cop gives you the worst news imaginable and then leaves. If he’s a rookie, he probably says something stupid like, “Have a nice day” because he doesn’t know what else to say.

The most difficult one I handled was telling a women at 3 A.M. that her husband had been killed in an auto accident in Bakersfield. First, she wouldn’t open the door to us, she didn’t believe we were the police. Then she wanted to see where we parked our police car, and when I moved our black and white to below her apartment window she called 911. She thought we were impersonating police officers. It took us 30 minutes to get inside her apartment and sit her down and tell her the news. It’s been 35 years and I’m still not over that one.

The first look you get when you knock on someone’s door is panic. They see two cops standing at their door and asking to speak to Mr. or Mrs. Whatever. They know it’s not good news. They want to know what you want right away. Death Notifications rule # 1: you don’t tell them on the front porch that their only son or daughter has died. All react differently, some faint and injure themselves, some attack the messenger, the cops, but almost all are in some form of denial. It’s best to get them inside sitting down and out of public view. You don’t need the nosey next door neighbor butting in.

Ok, you’ve broken the news that they’ll never forget. Trust me you’ll never find the right words. There aren’t any right words. You offer your sympathies and if they’re alone, you offer to call someone to come stay with them. Then you leave, feeling like a piece of crap. Heaven help the next traffic violator who pisses you off.

It doesn’t make much difference how much experience you have or how compassionate you are, death notifications suck. Some people don’t understand why cops drink, have a high divorce rate or commit suicide.

Next and thank goodness, my last on death, I’ll discuss “Welfare Checks.” Welfare Checks can be a hodge podge of outcomes. Some bad, some good and some of them sort of amusing.

Hal

By Hal Collier

Share this:

Share this: