Thursday, November 2, 2017

Got some work done in the garden today.  One of the people that does yard work is bringing over the leaves he is gathering from his customers and dropping them off for Carla to use.
Today he brought some that were in bags, so we had to drag them down to one of her gardens in the northwest corner.  The rest are loose and we are moving them with wheelbarrows.
Carla couldn’t be happier.  It will help the soil, a lot, and give it both nutrients and body.  There is so much sand it just doesn’t retain the nutrients as well from year to year and despite rotating crops the soil is depleted.
---------------------------
I am giving you permission to share this post, as long as you also include this paragraph that it is copyrighted and it is not to be used in or attached to other publications without my written permission.
Copyright November 2, 2017 Art Labrousse
When I first started with the City as a Reserve, they gave me a uniform and badge and one of the Reserves loaned me his two inch Colt to carry when I rode until I had my own weapon.
That was the extent of my introduction into the Reserves.  I can’t remember if I was sworn in or not – I imagine I was, just don’t remember it.
I was a bit timid going into public, by myself, in the uniform; after all I knew nothing about the laws or protocol and could find myself in serious trouble.  When I mentioned that to the Reserve Captain, as he loaned me the gun, he asked “you, do know how to shoot, don’t you?”
I said, ‘yes, of course.’
That was enough for him, and the department.
I carried that 2 inch for a few weeks.
I had contacted Norman, my Brother-in-law, to see if I could borrow one of his guns, he not only did that for me but sent me the leather belt and holsters for the gun and handcuffs to go with them.
It was a .38 Smith and Wesson; it had been sent to the Police Department along with the leather.  The officers were very impressed with the quality of the weapon – Norman is also a gunsmith and the action on that gun was smoother than any in the department (or so I was told.)
It was the weapon he used in competition and when he was named to the California Governor’s top Twenty Police Officers in pistol competition.  Not an easy thing to pull off.
I got my training by riding with the regular officers.  I didn’t think to ask for manuals on the laws so I could study up a bit and no one suggested I do so – I just rode, watched and listened.
And that was the same for every other Reserve Officer, at the time.
Our duties were to assist the department anyway we could.  Most of our ‘official’ duties were security for different organizations that were having large meetings and football games. 
We also did traffic control during the parades – no training other than don’t let anyone through until after the parade is over and then keep the intersections clear of traffic as best you can.
At times we might be asked to stand by at a crime scene to provide security and to record anyone that came and went from the scene.
When we were “on duty” we had the full authority of any Police Officer; there was no difference, if we gave an order then whoever we were giving it to was expected to obey or be arrested.  I was awfully careful about doing that.
I usually worked at the store until closing and then about a half hour after so we could do the closing paperwork.  My intent was to ride the last part of Swing Shift and the first part of Grave yard, at least until after bar closing at 0230, a couple or three times a week.
I figured the security and traffic control was the price I had to pay to ride along with the regular officers on patrol.
Some officers didn’t mind having a reserve with them.  It helped to relieve boredom during the quiet times, and many became friends.  Others would just as soon not have a reserve riding, but would grudgingly do so if no one else was available.  You learned to pick and choose your nights, it was always better to be welcomed than tolerated.
One night I was coming in with the Swing Shift as their shift was over and I approached the Graveyard Sergeant and asked if I could ride on his shift – a prerequisite to ride was to get permission from the Sergeant or PFC.
Sarge looked me up and down and said, ‘NO!’  As he walked away he said ‘I would rather have no one on patrol than to have a reserve.’
That was quite a shock and very embarrassing.  I was brand new and all the officers of both shifts heard him.
Of course, all the officers of both shifts knew his feelings, so it wasn’t quite as bad as I felt – as if his comments had been directed at me.
John, the PFC I had originally talked to and was directed to join the Reserves, was his PFC and came over to me and said, we will talk in a few minutes – since I had been picked up at my home by a swing shift officer I thought I was going to have to walk home, but John told me he would give me a ride.
He explained to me that the Sarge had come to The Dalles from another city about 16 years before.  While at the other city he had a reserve riding with him when they got a call of a fight in one of the local bars.
Sarge arrived at the scene and went into the bar, thinking the reserve was there as his back up – only to find he was facing several angry people fighting each other and ended up getting severely beaten before the rest of the officers arrived.
The reserve turned his gear into the department later, saying “I decided right then and there as we arrived at that fight I didn’t want to be a Police Officer.”
It was probably a good thing, and even better that he never saw Sarge again.
I don’t know if that was actually true or not, but it made for a good story and reason for his detesting of reserves.
Sarge had been in charge of Graveyard shift from the moment he was hired.  He never worked another shift and he ran the shift his way, which was often different from the other two Patrol Sergeants.
Sarge brooked no sass and it was clear what he wanted out of his officers.  His main order was to make sure every single business and school was checked out during the shift, at least once.
He expected his officers to be in the alley’s and not out on the street except for bar closing when he wanted his officers checking the streets around the bars.
He wanted them there to discourage both fighting, which often occurred, and those that had too much to drink giving them second thoughts about driving home.
Not all officers cared for the ‘security’ assignments – they are boring - and would work traffic whenever possible – especially Driving Under the Influence offenders that they wanted off the street.
While a quiet shift, for the most part, when a call came into the office it was usually of major consequences.  Family disturbances were the calls most often received; the husband would come out of the bar and go home; when he arrived at home he and his wife would end up in arguments and we would get a call from her, or the neighbors.  Those calls were always dangerous.
Burglaries did occur during the shift.  Sometimes they were called in, were on an alarm that notified the department or quite often discovered by the officer assigned to that area.
If an officer didn’t discover a burglary before the business owner arrived in the morning, unless everyone was too busy with calls, he would hear about it from Sarge – he was expected to be alert and find the break in – even if he couldn’t find the suspect committing it at the time.
John was his PFC for the most part.  On occasion he would switch with another PFC to another shift, but he preferred working Graveyard shift and working for Sarge.
John told me that on nights he was in charge of the shift, I was welcomed to ride.  I did so, often, but since the Sarge’s days off were Sunday and Monday mornings, it wasn’t easy since I had obligations at my church.
After watching the other Patrol sergeants and listening to the troops – many of which really didn’t want to work with him, and especially the Graveyard shift, I decided if I joined the department I would want to work with Sarge.
I made it a point to always greet him and at least be cordial with him.  I liked him.
Things have changed, The City Police and the Sheriff’s Office now have a Reserve Academy to train reserves in the basics and keep both them and the department out of trouble.
Being a Reserve was satisfying and I decided that police work was something I really did want to do.
Carla wasn’t so sure.  It meant taking a cut in pay – and not a small one - and she knew my father had had words with officers in the past – one time beating a ticket, by reportedly saying he hadn’t gone as fast as the officers said, and he didn’t trust their judgement.  Supposedly the judge agreed with him and found him not guilty.
Her concern was what would I do if something like that happened to me? – not a bad question, really. 
However, she didn’t push the point and I applied the next time the department had openings.
I don’t remember how many of us applied for the job, but there were several.
We took a written test.  Those of us that passed then had to take a physical test – one that was done along with firemen applicants.
We arrived at Amaton field, a field next to the high school, to perform the tests.
In the center of the field propped up with ropes standing upright was a fireman’s ladder, 20 feet high.  I don’t remember all the other things that we were required to do, but I will never forget that one.
I don’t like heights.  Never have.  No police officer candidate had ever been asked to perform that feat before – yet, I knew that if I didn’t do it, I would be washed out.
We were to climb it, then go over the top and back down the other side.  I have to admit of all the things I had to do as an officer through the years, that was one of the most terrifying. 
But I did it, don’t ask me how, but I did.
A few days later I received a call to go and see the Doctor for a physical.  It was Doctor John, at the time the mayor and County Medical Examiner.  He passed me except for his concern about my eye sight – the chief said it would be fine, I wouldn’t have been accepted under today’s standards – so I was offered and accepted the job as a Probationary Police Officer.
I tendered my resignation at Safeway’s, giving them two week’s notice.  The District Manager came to me and said that he felt I was making a mistake and indicating a position was opening up for an Assistant Manager soon and I would be considered – within a month, Madras, one of the stores in Central Oregon, had an opening for an Assistant Manager.
I had worked in it before and liked the manager.  He and I got along well.  But, I had made my decision.
Obviously a new officer can’t request an assignment, but I was pleased to be told that I would be assigned to Graveyard.
I walked into the station at a little before 2330.  Sarge was at the counter.
He looked at me, and said, “I heard you might be coming over.”
Then went into his office.
To be continued:
Copyright November 2, 2017 Art Labrousse
-------------------------------------------
Ephesians 1:16-18  KJV  “Cease not to give thanks for you, making mention of you in my prayers;
17 That the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, may give unto you the spirit of wisdom and revelation in the knowledge of him:
18 The eyes of your understanding being enlightened; that ye may know what is the hope of his calling, and what the riches of the glory of his inheritance in the saints,
While this was addressed to the Ephesians, by Paul, how wonderful it is to hear that someone is praying for me as Paul did for the Church at Ephesus.
Part of our duties as Christians is to pray for others, to pray they will grow and will allow themselves to be used by Him.
AND especially for those that do not yet know of His amazing grace:  The eyes of your understanding being enlightened; that ye may know what is the hope of his calling, and what the riches of the glory of his inheritance in the saints,
Later, Art (-: 

No comments:

Post a Comment