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.

Air and Water Show

Every summer, one of the big events of the season is the Air and Water show. Thousands of people fill every empty space to be found any where near the lakefront where the show is held. They come out early in the morning and picnic all day. They look like they're really enjoying themselves too.

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For big city coppers though, it is a major pain. People, locals as well as tourists wander every where. They clutter the park, the streets, and the roads. Traffic is a nightmare.

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This year, the big city copper arrives at work and is handed a new assignment for the next two days event. Report to the boss early and dress comfortably. "What is up" the copper wonders aloud. "You are," says the el tee. "You aren't afraid of heights are you?" he continues, laughing.

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The assignment is a big one, er, tall one. Monitor and control the flow of traffic and provide an "eye in the sky" for the officers on the ground. "Cool, I get to ride in the police chopper." thinks the officer. WRONG.

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For the next two days the officer is standing on the roof of a fifty story building with a spotting scope, binoculars, and a radio. The wind up that high, approximately 500 feet up, gusts strongly. He notices, "holy crap, this is kinda scary!"

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There's no time to be chicken though, the boss on the ground wants to know where the problems are. It's getting busy in a hurry. Cabbies are dropping off passengers right on the roadway that hugs the lakefront. They are unwilling to wait for the exit ramp to clear and are walking along the shoulder. An ice cream truck has pulled over on that shoulder and is doing a brisk business. Pedestrians are trying to cross the eight lane road instead of using the overpass or tunnel. Calling out the problem areas, the "eye in the sky" begins to direct the ground officers to the exact locations where they are needed. Exit ramps are opened and closed as necessary. Controlling the flow at intersections as far as a half mile from the gridlocked ramps eases the congestion. It is amazing, This is working great. The copper is having fun.

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The show starts. Watching the air show from eye level is great. The USAF jets come roaring by just overhead. "WHOOOEEE" shouts the copper. He could see the sharks teeth painted on the nose of a deadly looking warplane as it soars past. The building is aligned with the brightly painted boat being used as a guide point for the jets, explains the official USAF photographer that has joined the copper on the roof. Every airplane in the show passes close by at one point or another.

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The normally dreaded annual event has turned into yet another fantastic adventure.

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Being a big city copper is the best job in the world. Except maybe, for those guys cruising around in their multi million dollar war jets.

Life on the street

Most coppers spend a third of their lives on the street. It's either in patrol cars, as detectives, or other specialized units but basically they spend a huge part of life as street people. That's the attraction that keeps coppers happy. The entertainment value alone is worth the hassle of having to fight crime. It's been described as being a teenager all your life, riding around in a car with your buddy, wearing leather jackets, and messing with people. It's addicting. If a copper doesn't develop a life outside of the job, it's painful to have to retire. Retirement is getting grounded and not being allowed to hang out with your pals on the street any more (teenager analogy).

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Being out on the street so much means either eating in restaurants or brown bagging it and not many officers are that concerned with healthy vittles. So what do coppers do? Some find a hospital or hotel employee cafeteria that treats officers like employees and charges little or nothing for a meal. Others discover which places provide a "police discount," sometimes up to half off the menu prices. The experienced, "savvy" coppers find and develop a good relationship with a nice restaurant and get fed for free. These are well kept secrets. If you tell one guy about it soon the whole city knows. Coppers tend to ruin a good thing. They either go there too often or are so cheap they don't tip the waitresses. Soon, the manager gets tired of the crowd of police coming in and stops the perk. The smart officer develops a couple of "freebies" and rotates the visits. Plus tipping the waitress a few dollars keeps up the good will so she doesn't "forget" about the perk.

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There are some drawbacks to avoiding the "full boat" restaurants. It gets embarrassing to enter a hospital cafeteria and finding enough coppers there to hold roll call. Other places, like the 24 hour joints, give the half off because of the other riffraff that frequent the place. A copper never know what he may have to do to earn that meal. It's been said there's no such thing as a free lunch. The manager of the freebie probably has the coppers card with a cell phone number on it. Guess who he calls when he has a problem. Last but not least, the big city has "inspectors" driving around looking for police misdeeds, such as congregating at any one location without performing a police function.

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Now there are real cheapskates who have been known to put on a uniform on a day off to get a free meal at the hospital or hotel cafeteria. Others have been seen bringing the family to avoid spending money. Worst of all is the one who eats then orders two dinners to go and still only leaves a dollar for the waitress.

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The reality of life on the street for the big city copper can get complicated. He has to remember to only order the "tall" size regular or decaf. The larger fancy lattes are full boat. He has to keep track of where he ate yesterday so he doesn't burn out the good locations. Most importantly, he has to keep a few dollars handy for the tip jar or waitress.

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So as you can see, it's not always easy being a big city copper.

Remember Patriots Day

On the anniversary of the 9-11 attacks on our great country, we should all take a few moments and reflect on all that we have to be grateful for.

To all the soldiers, sailors, marines , and airmen that are willingly risking their lives to preserve our safety, we thank you.

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To all the police, paramedics, firemen, and other public safety workers who risk their lives daily, we honor you.

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To all the family members and friends who love us, support us, and help us keep our sanity, we cherish you.

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To all of America, God Bless you!

Escorting the President

It is five thirty a.m. I stop at the Starbuck's for a cup of joe. The counter guy cheerfully gives me my plain coffee says "it's on me" then thanks me for the dollar I throw in his tip jar. There's already a line behind me. It's a popular place. I recognize a guy in line. He nods in acknowledgement, then orders his latte.
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We both are in a hurry. The cars we are driving have to be swept for explosives before we report to the compound.
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I'm assigned to the unit that has been escorting the presidential candidate and his secret service detail for weeks. The home town favorite has won the election. He is now the real deal! The President of the United States (elect) lives in the big city. His code name is "Renegade."
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The escort duty has taken on a level of real importance. The squad of agents guarding him and his family has grown. However, they are still escorted by the big city copper and his crew.
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The motorcade is assembled and waiting. Today, I have the honor of leading the parade. A knot forms in my stomach as the word comes over the radio. "Renegade's coming out" I ease into the street followed by a heavily armed armada of vehicles. "Light em up," says the agent riding shotgun in my car. I turn on the lights, all of them, wig wags, brights, flashers, and strobes. I glance in the mirror. every vehicle is lit up like a Christmas tree. It is an impressive sight.
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The officers assigned along the route are alerted. I see streets, intersections, and highway ramps being blocked as we approach. The agent calls out every move the motorcade must make.
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I call out potential problems as I spot them. The tail cars respond and move ahead to cover any trouble identified. The motorcade moves as one. No one gets inside the bubble of protection we have provided.
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I am barely aware of the people waving and cheering from the sidewalks as we approach our destination. I drive past the entrance so "POTUS" can exit right at the door, but close enough for the agents to deploy from my car to cover their assignments. When signaled, I pull away from curb to re stage the car for the return leg of the movement.
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It was an intense ride.
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We spent the next few weeks providing escorts for the President, the First Lady, and the kids. (we took them to school) In January, the first family moved to Washington D.C.
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Escorting the President of the United States was an honor. I hope to do it again.
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Being a big city copper is a beautiful thing. 

Coppers work, work , and work.

Remember when you were a young copper with kids in grade school , a mortgage, car note, (maybe a girl on the side)? Man, times were tough. What did you do? Like most of us, you started doing part time work, side jobs, we called them. Most guys have more than one. It's easy for police officers to find work. Security work mostly. It helped to pay the bills and a little extra for entertainment. Every department has a guy who knows where to go for side jobs.

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There were days when I didn't know whether I was coming or going. I'd wake up after my usual four hours sleep and wonder what job was I supposed to be at in half an hour.

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What happened to the glamorous job of a big city copper? All I got so far was rotating shifts every month, crappy ghetto district, and work, work, work.

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I went to work feeling like crap most of the time. Looking around the roll call room did nothing to lift my spirits either. The late cars on the midnight to eight shift often consisted of three one man cars and the two man wagon. This was in one of the busiest ghetto districts of the city. There was low morale, no manpower, and junk cars that were hot in the summer and cold in the winter. Once on the street though, we protected each other. We always knew where the other cars were and showed up on their jobs after finishing ours. Trying to stay awake during that last hour when the sun was beating in the windshield was the worst. Then it's go home sleep a few hours and go to the part timer. Every copper did some version of this.

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The years passed. I left the runnin and gunnin to the young guys long ago. The kids grew up. They went to college. (Remember the three jobs? Still got em.)

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One day, the house is empty. The kids have moved out. GREAT, now I can stop working myself ragged. I can take it easy now.

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Wait a minute. How did I pay for those two weeks in Cabo last month? How about those two weeks in Puerto Vallarta I got planned for next winter? Those are nice resorts we stay at. We never used to stay at such nice resorts.

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CRAPOLA! I like working at the pro stadiums. I like watching baseball games in the summer. Working at the hockey and basketball games in the winter is great. I enjoy working the homeland security gig at the airport. It's actually not so bad, after all. I ain't digging ditches!

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I'm in my peak earning years! I got seniority! I'm in a good unit.

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Guess what! I still got my three jobs. Six hours of sleep is a luxury.

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Life is Beautiful!

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As God knows, I love being a big city copper.

"Riding the train..."

Working the plainclothes mission team in the subway was a great job. Two or three man teams riding the train trying not to look like the police is not as easy as it sounds. Coppers tend to have a "look". Normal people who use the subway like to avoid eye contact. They are often oblivious to their surroundings. They trust people. Not Coppers. They watch people. They look for predators. They stare when more timid people look away. So do the bad guys. They can spot a police officer a mile off.

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How do the police protect the subway riders from the muggers, pickpockets, and pocket cutters? How do they catch the bad guys? There is a certain "flow" to the world when things are normal. In crowded areas like subways, it is more noticeable when there is a disturbance in the flow. People who are "tuned" to that flow (coppers, of course) can't help but sense it. Find the source of the disruption and you'll usually find a crime being committed.

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Wolf packs of police officers flooding a particular line sometimes does the job. Stake outs of a specific station can work too. Great planning, decoys, and alert aggressive coppers should be the best tools to fight these criminals, right?

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I was part of a three man team riding the train one afternoon. One man was set near each door and one about half way to be able to help either side. The train pulled into the station and the doors opened. As the riders began to board, a man spits towards the floor of the platform and stops suddenly. He bends over and starts to brush off the pants leg of the man behind him, apologizing loudly.

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I can't believe it! Right in front of me is a classic "stop and bump" stall. The "bump" distracts the victim so the wallet could be lifted by the "pick" behind him. I signal to the team and grab the picks arm as he is retrieving the mans wallet. He shouts "hey" and begins to pull away.

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Well, the crooks work in teams too. The first guy shoves me away causing me to lose my grip on the guys arm. They both push their way off the train. A woman carrying bags stand up in the aisle and blocks my assist officer long enough for the two men to start running down the platform. The officer at the other door was also delayed by boarding passengers.

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My partner and I begin to chase the offenders. The train conductor, unaware of the action, closes the doors and pulls away with our victim. The offenders are young and fleet footed. They have gained some thirty yards on the forty ish coppers who by now are huffing and puffing for oxygen. I know it's time to quit when a bystander says "dem boys sure is fast ain't dey officer?"

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The bad guys got away. The victim left, not even aware that his wallet was gone. Just another day for a big city copper.