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.
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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
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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
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