Police have normal days too.

A copper working on the street day after day never knows what kind of situation he may encounter. Funny, absurd, bizarre, or even sexual, are just some of the ways to describe a "normal" day.

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An attractive brunette walked into the station during a rainstorm, soaked to the skin, wearing only a tight tee shirt and shorts and asked for help getting into her locked car. The lucky officer who offered to assist her returned later smiling from the "thank you" she gave him, twice, since her husband wasn't home.

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An officer related how he and his partner were met at the door by a woman wearing a see through robe. Cheerfully they, accepted the invitation to enter the apartment. The first copper was led into a room. The partner heard a voice from the other room. Smiling he went in and found an old woman at least 70 years old leaning up on an elbow from the bed. "Please come in officer, I ain't had me a man in over ten years."

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Another copper related that during an interview of a young woman victim of date rape, she was asked if the man had ejaculated. Not understanding , she asked "huh?" She was asked again, "Did he have an orgasm?" The girl replied "Oh no, he had a Monte Carlo."

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Responding to assist a one man car at a disturbance, a sergeant found the officer speaking to two men. One man was in tears and the other was highly agitated. The crying man related he and his friend were having an argument so he left to calm down. When he returned his friend was screaming and behaving strangely. The coppers got both men to go into the apartment. The agitated man was speaking rapidly and his eyes were wild.

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The coppers got them both to sit down. The wild one began to explain that after the argument, his lover walked out so he decided to take a shower then a nap. While sleeping , two black men broke into the apartment and dragged him into the bathroom where they broke the mirror and raped him. The sergeant, stated the man should go to the hospital to get checked out. The man agreed, then continued to say that they had raped him with a piece of broken mirror. "My ass is bleeding" he stated, "Look." He then stood up, yanked his pants down, and bent over.

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Both officer and sergeant started, "NO, DON'T" but it was too late... The officer shone his flashlight. The sergeant looked closer. Nothing. The man was not bleeding at all.

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"There's nothing wrong with your ass! Put your pants on." ordered the officer.

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The coppers decided the wild eyed look was possibly crystal meth intoxication. This was probably causing the delusions. They convinced the calm one to sign his friend into the hospital. The wild one was placed in the cage car and driven to the hospital. The friend and sergeant followed close behind.

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When they arrived at the hospital, the officer opened the door to the car. The man calmly stepped out and immediately took off running. His friend ran after him. No drugs had been found and neither men had committed a crime so the coppers didn't join in the chase.

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"Have you ever looked in a guys ass before, Sarge?"

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"No, how about you?"

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"I won't tell if you don't." They both agreed.

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Ten minutes later, the jokes started on the radio and from passing police cars.

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Coppers can't keep secrets. Is nothing sacred?

Support your local police.

The big city police department has been suffering through bad publicity because a small group of rogue officers chose to tarnish the honor of their profession. Maybe todays mutterings will help readers understand why they should support the many, many good honest coppers who do their best to overcome the daily battles that police endure.

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A former New York City, Anthony Bouza, police chief wrote "Cops work in a world shrouded with mystery and power..."

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For eight hours a day, six days a week coppers encounter everything one could imagine. Every pain, misery, despair and degradation that man can think of inflicting on each other has to be challenged and overcome. Officer's senses get heightened to a level where the adrenaline flows in copious amounts. They witness more traumatic events in one year than an average person will see in several lifetimes. This overloading of the sensory circuits gives the police an outlook of arrogance, superiority, and power that some outsiders recognize but can never understand.

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Police Officers go into the homes of people who have temporarily lost control of their lives. They evaluate the situation, consider the options, then make a decision for those who are unable or unwilling to do on their own. This is often accomplished in a matter of seconds or in some cases, split seconds. Applying these decisions to the situations at hand takes authority and power. Society gives police the power and authority to accomplish this task using whatever force is necessary including the right to subdue, strike, and even kill legally. This enormous power over the citizenry is wielded by even the lowest ranking rookie officer.

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Police are bonded together into a brotherhood brought on by shared danger and self preservation. There is a common feeling that an outsider has no idea of what really goes on in the bowels of the city so it is difficult to relate to anyone but another copper who lives and works in the same environment.

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Whenever a copper sees another officer struggling with an individual, he sees himself or a brother fighting for his life and the pleasure of going home to his family in one piece. To prevent any further injury to his comrade and the offender, he joins in the fight. A passing citizen sees this and cries brutality because there are more police than bad guys. Well, coppers do not fight fair. They don't have to. They have to win at all costs. Society demands it. What would the city be like if the police had to fight one on one with the criminals?

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Police officers are a unique, elite group of individuals. A thousand years ago these people would have been slaying dragons and rescuing princesses. They actively seek out danger and evil. They revel in the capture of violent criminals. Normal people hear shooting and run from it. Coppers feel a surge of adrenaline and go after the gunmen. Why is that? Do they get paid an enormous amount of money? No!! They do it for the honor and the glory of it. There is a certain satisfaction to solving a murder or a robbery, whether it's within minutes or a year later.

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An active aggressive copper can't help but get complaints filed against him. A true professional, he doesn't shy away from his duty for he knows that as long as his actions are within the law he has no fear of a complaint board. Officers will go out and provide service to the best of his ability for the same people who had filed the complaint against him. It's ironic that the same person who vehemently screams of abuse and brutality at the hands of the police is the first to cry "Help Police" when he or she becomes a victim of a crime.

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The intoxicating allure of the street does have a price that has to be paid. There is a tremendous amount of stress involved in police work. Any situation, any encounter can explode into a maddening tooth and nail struggle for life itself. Every darkened alley or hallway is a potential ambush. Every traffic stop is a possible gun battle waiting to erupt. Whenever a copper walks in an open area his eyes never stop moving, ever conscious of the huge target the blue suit makes. Coppers are the only people who never look at each other during a conversation as they must always be aware of their surroundings. They see what other people miss. Where an average person sees dress styles, laughter, and love; the copper sees pickpockets working, psychotics babbling, and couples fighting. They can't help it. They have to wallow in other peoples misery and observe them at their worst. In order to deal with dead children, pools of blood, spilled brain matter, and the pitiful wail of grief stricken families they unconsciously grow callouses over their emotions. The typical gallows humor coppers are famous for is a defense mechanism formed to cope with the sickening violence that man inflicts on his own kind.

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This stress related arrogance, cynicism, and callousness of the heart is not a button that can easily be switched on or off. Many officers take it home with them. Their odd working hours and long shifts wreaks havoc on their home life. Their lives are subject to public scrutiny and everyone knows who the officer is that lives on the block. Coppers dislike going to non police functions because of the attitudes people take when they know he is present. All of this often results in one of the highest divorce rates in the country.

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A higher price that is paid is the many injuries suffered from fights with doped up addicts, violent attacks, and traffic accidents. Yes, coppers bleed, in fact they bleed more than any other profession other than the brave soldiers fighting for our freedom (God bless them). Every officer's heart bleeds a little every time one of their own is murdered while doing his job.

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Being slain on the job should be the ultimate price but it doesn't end there. The suicide rate among police officers is abnormally high. Too many good coppers have taken that escape route while depressed and over stressed.

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Death by retirement is also a job hazard that is almost unique to the profession. The average life span for a police officer is two years less than normal and statistics show that a retired officer collects only 18 months of his pension before he dies. Many coppers have died the first week after "pulling the pin."

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Policing the big city is difficult and dangerous. The men and women who go out and risk their health and safety daily usually get only the gratitude of the victims that have been helped. The actions of a small element of bad cops who abuse the power and insult the honest and decent members of the profession should not result in further loss of support from the public.

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Without the support of the community, the only satisfaction coppers will get will be from peer recognition and their own professionalism. This will only serve to further alienate the police from the society it serves.

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Most Police Officers, whether they are big city coppers or small town's finest, are fiercely proud of their profession and of the men and women that "SERVE AND PROTECT."

No honors today.

A copper was buried today. Quietly. Only family, friends, and those police officers who knew him.

A sergeant who knew him from the early days, wondered why the order for a full honors burial never came out. He hastily arranged for two escort vehicles and a handful of officers to show up at the funeral home for an impromptu honor guard to show the family the respect that was due to their loved one.

The man was a hero. An apparently unsung one but a hero none the less.

A few years ago, the officer was working in a high crime district helping to train a young recruit. While patrolling late one night they came upon a car parked near an industrial area. The man in the car was alone. He had a newspaper in his lap. The officers sensed no danger.

Both officers came up on the same side, realizing the error, the veteran copper waved back the younger officer and approached the driver.

The man stepped from the car but kept the newspaper over his hand. Now aware of the danger, the copper lunged for the man as a nine shot .22 revolver came into view. He grabbed for the gun hand as the offender fired. Four bullets entered under the officers body armor into the officers torso. The officer fell away injured and bleeding.

The man then turned and fired three more shots at the young recruit a few feet away. Struck in the vest, belly, and belt buckle the young copper was able to draw his weapon and fire several times, killing the assailant.

Severely injured, the veteran copper was rushed to the trauma center. He survived the attack.
Coppers know how much damage a .22 slug can do at close range. Even after months of rehab it was determined that the officer would no longer be able to carry out his police duties. He was retired on disability.

Still a young man, he struggled to live his life to the fullest.

He died quietly, a hero.

He was buried quietly, without the honors due him for his sacrifice.

Riding the bus...

Some police officers in the big city are assigned to patrol the transit system. Besides the subway system, there are miles of bus routes that have to be protected. This is a huge responsibility.

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One of the tools available to the officers is the surveillance cameras that are installed on board most, if not all the buses, on the system. These cameras provide remarkably good quality video or digital photos of any incident occurring on the bus.

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Modern technology is a helpful law enforcement asset but it still takes the dogged determination of good coppers out on the street doing the leg work.

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When crimes are recorded on a city bus, these officers obtain copies of the video and hit the road. They look for landmarks visible on the video such as fences, ads, benches, or anything that will give them the location where the bad guys boarded or exited the bus.

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These officers, whose only mission for the day is to find the bad guys, will then go on foot, asking questions, showing the photos, and searching for signs of the crooks. They visit the schools, look through yearbooks, and talk to students and teachers.

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Using the technology available along with good old fashioned "boots on the ground" police work, many crimes have been solved.

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Serious crimes, such as a bus driver being set on fire, or the shooting of a teenager have been successfully prosecuted. Criminal vandalism cases have also been closed due to the dilligence of big city police officers.

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This is what police work is all about for these officers; One mission, one villain, go out and get em. Positive results is the only payoff. Pride in one's work is the only thanks. The look of surprise on the guy's face when he is shown his photo is worth the hours of pounding the pavement.

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Wiser words have never been spoken than what an old sergeant preached at roll call, "Being a big city copper is a vocation, a calling, not a job. Kind of like the priesthood without the young boys."

Avoiding tragedy for big city police

The two man wagon crew is rolling down the street that is the south boundary of the patrol sector. Not having an assigned beat, the officers cruise the area waiting for a transport job or any disturbance calls they can respond to.

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The driver is a grizzled veteran. Three years doesn't sound like much, but in a hard core, high crime district like this one, it makes coppers old in a hurry. Riding with him is a FNG, a kid just released from his field training officer. It is a good match up. Young officers can't learn what they need to know by riding with a field trainer. They learn by experience. By working with older coppers, a sharp rookie can observe how others handle problems. They can then glean the good tactics from poor ones and form their own style.

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Veteran coppers seem to ignore the normal radio chatter but are attuned to their own call numbers. They can also tell when a serious job is coming. The tone of the dispatchers voice changes when he's giving out a hot job.

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A plain clothes team is chasing an armed robbery offender on foot. The wagon crew is only one street away. The driver spots a male black, gun in hand, running from the side street just ahead. The man runs into a doorway a few houses from the corner. The officer pulls up close to the corner and radios in the street address before approaching the doorway.

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Drawing his .45, the copper opens the door . It is a hallway. There are sounds of footsteps pounding up the stairs. "Damn" he says as he quickly begins the climb. The footsteps are going higher. It is a three flat building. Approaching the third floor, the officer hears a door slam. There is a door at either end of the landing. "Which door is it?" Before he could decide, the doorknob begins to turn on the far door. "Crap" the copper is in the open, on a landing between two doors with no cover. Crouching down into the corner, the copper makes himself small and points his pistol at the door.

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The door opens. Standing in the doorway is a man holding a gun. The copper yells, "drop it, police" and aims for the chest. The armed man's eyes open wide as he slams the door shut. The copper jumps up and slams his foot at the door, kicking it open. A gunshot goes off inside the apartment. The officer stops in his tracks, "the fucker's shooting at me" he thinks. He shouts, "police police" and holds his aim, looking for a target.

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Suddenly, a man jumps into his field of vision from the right. It's a male black with a gun in his hand. Directing his aim toward this new threat, the copper notices a radio in the other hand. The copper realizes he knows him. It's one of the plain clothes team that was chasing the robbery offender. He says hi to him and enters the apartment. The other plain clothes officer ran in behind the first. Now it's a chase to grab the bad guy first. Who ever puts cuffs on the offender gets the pinch.( Competition is fierce amongst ghetto coppers for the good arrests.)

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The offender is in the living room of the apartment with his hands in the air. The plain clothes guy gets the cuffs on him so they win.

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There is shouting from the doorway. "Drop the gun" and "No, NO, Don't shoot".

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There is the FNG officer holding the black officer at gun point. The frightened officer holding his gun AND radio high in the air. The veteran coppers rush back and calm the new guy down. (He is shaking). The grizzled veteran copper introduces the new guy to the plain clothes officers.

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Back at the station, the officers sat down to discuss the sequence of events that almost led to tragedy had either officer fired without thinking. Luckily, one of the first things learned is to "always watch their hands"

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The pursuing officers had heard the address given by the wagon copper. They went up the rear stairs and encountered the offender trying to escape by the back door. The offender had fired a shot and fled back inside . He then tried the front door again. He was trapped. When saw there was no escape he had given up and threw the gun to the floor. Meanwhile in the kitchen sat the family, who lived in the apartment, terrified. The offender had chosen the building at random.

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To avoid this type of near tragedy, the plain clothes teams decided to introduce themselves to the uniform guys at roll calls.

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That's one of the ways how FNG's become veterans in a hurry.

Coping in the police world.

Police officers are exposed to more traumatic events in one year than most people experience in a lifetime.

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There are horrific mutilations of bodies caused by traffic crashes. Broken limbs, severed heads, and other bloody body parts are often strewn about the scene.

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Suicides are messy and can be gruesome. Some go quietly to sleep in a car, parked in the garage with the engine running. Others, take sleeping pills or other drugs and also go quietly. Many don't go so neatly. Those who leap from tall buildings leave a smashed, broken, and bloody mess. The brain is sometimes laying several feet away from the skull. Arms and legs are always twisted into awkward and unnatural positions. People who jump in front of trains , well you can imagine how many pieces they break into. Did you know that the neck of a hanging victim really does stretch, if left dangling long enough? Someone that shoots themselves sprays their brains over the whole room.

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Murder victims are left in positions indicative of how angry the killer was. Heads bashed in, throats slashed, hog-tied and strangled, gang symbols carved into torsos, shot, or the worst, babies scalded to death are all methods of death the big city coppers have seen.

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How do they do it? How can a copper deal with all the mayhem and destruction of a 25-30 year career without going insane?

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Most officers develop an internal switch that activates when the stress level rises ("when the shit gets deep"). Other coppers are gifted with the ability to turn it on and off naturally. The switch helps the copper function as a professional when all hell is breaking loose around him. The brain sets the mess aside to be dealt with later and allows the work to get done.

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It does have to be dealt with though. It starts during, if possible, and immediately after an incident. Some call it "gallows" humor. Others call it "whistling through the graveyard". Crude jokes and comments may seem inappropriate to some but it is a necessary tool coppers unconsciously use to help cope with horrifying incidents. Many officers take the difficult route and dull the memories with alcohol. Telling "war stories" around the bar helps some officers escape the demons inside them.

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Others, unfortunately never recover and eat a bullet.

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If you ever hear police officers speaking crudely about the dead, making harsh jokes at inappropriate times, or writing stories about the dreadful circumstances of a death, have some compassion. Coppers really do care about victims and the families of victims but they also care about the mental stability of themselves and their fellow officers.

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Talking, laughing, or writing about the ghastly has a way of soothing a frightful ghost.

Medal of Honor Convention

This week the big city has the honor of hosting the Medal of Honor Convention.

The Medal of Honor is the nation's highest military award. To receive this medal, an individual must perform an act of personal bravery or self sacrifice, involving the risk of life, above and beyond the call of duty while engaged in a combat action.

There are currently only 95 living recipients of this award that, as written by Peter Collier, is earned only through acts of incredible bravery "at the intersection of happenstance and hell."

Today the big city copper had the honor of leading the motorcade escorting these living legends to the ceremonies being held in their honor.

The lead car, motorcycles, flanking cars, and tail cars surrounded the buses. They lit up the street but, with silent decorum, escorted them with full honors precision.

The fire department formed an archway with snorkels and ladders at the entrance to the park that the motorcade passed through. The escort halted at the Police Gold Star Memorial Park.

The path to the site of the Police Memorial Wall was lined with police officers on foot and on horseback. The Medal of Honor heroes, honored the police heroes by holding a ceremony at the memorial that lists the city's fallen officers.

The procession of old warriors continued on foot (some in wheelchairs) to a luncheon and more ceremonies inside the facility.

Following the finale, the men graciously signed books and chatted with all who approached them.

What a day! The air was rippling with patriotism. There were dozens of flags, there were even more soldiers, sailors, marines, and airmen all proudly displaying rows of ribbons on their uniforms. Each ribbon depicting an act of their own personal valor.

Every soldier, currently serving, or aging veteran, stood in awe of these simple men. Humble men who, through extraordinary acts of courage and sacrifice, earned the right to wear that star spangled blue ribbon and star around their necks.

Escorting these men was an honor.