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You're going to make plenty of mistakes during your police career.
Most will come at the beginning, but you'll always be susceptible to
making a mistake here and there. Of course, any you do make should
be minor in nature; however, when it comes to any use of force, even a
minor mistake could have serious consequences.
You'll be entering a career like no other. You'll be required to swing
into action on short notice, and information immediately available to
you will be limited. Then...there are any number of circumstances that
could either aid or confuse your response.
To say I screwed up would be putting it mildly. It could have been much
worse. What if one of the residents had responded to the break-in with
a gun in hand? That was about the only bad thing that didn't happen. I
scared the hell out of a house full of people, and I pointed my gun at a
totally innocent man not to mention looking stupid in the process.
True...everything I did was done in good faith; although, I did it at the
wrong address.
Here's what you always have to remember. Even though you do
something in good faith and it's wrong, it's still wrong. In this instance,
I was pretty lucky. First, when the young man heard the transmission
on my radio, he knew immediately that I had entered the wrong home
believing a police officer needing assistance was inside. Second, I didn't
try to cover up my mistake, and embarrassment, by being arrogant.
No...I simply apologized...and apologized.
A sincere apology can have amazing effects. You hear a lot of people
complaining about their experiences with police officers. While a lot of
it is just sour grapes, some of those complaints will be legitimate. The
young man on the stairs certainly had good reason to be upset with me,
but this incident ended with a young black man patting a young, white
police officer on the shoulder saying, "It's okay officer. It's good to
know you'll come in that quick if somebody needs you."
My amends didn't end with an apology. I got the crew from the
emergency vehicle unit to put the door frame back together as I
suffered their humorous remarks referring to the door frame as a
jigsaw puzzle. I filed the paperwork with the city to have the door
replaced, and I followed up on the request succeeding in having the door
replaced in a record two days. I had already decided that if the city
delayed on the replacement, I was prepared to have it replaced at my
own expense. My sergeant thought the whole thing was pretty amusing.
Of course, he did, because he didn't have to write anything since no
occupants of the house wished to file any complaint regarding my
mistake.
Remember, even when you act in good faith, you can still make a
mistake. Remember this also -- when you're wrong, you're wrong. If
an apology is an appropriate response, you should apologize. While an
apology may not be accepted, it doesn't change the facts regarding your
good faith. Some police officers have a really hard time with admitting
they're wrong about anything. Those same police officers are usually
wrong frequently, and they collect a lot of needless, and avoidable,
complaints.
Most will come at the beginning, but you'll always be susceptible to
making a mistake here and there. Of course, any you do make should
be minor in nature; however, when it comes to any use of force, even a
minor mistake could have serious consequences.
You'll be entering a career like no other. You'll be required to swing
into action on short notice, and information immediately available to
you will be limited. Then...there are any number of circumstances that
could either aid or confuse your response.
To say I screwed up would be putting it mildly. It could have been much
worse. What if one of the residents had responded to the break-in with
a gun in hand? That was about the only bad thing that didn't happen. I
scared the hell out of a house full of people, and I pointed my gun at a
totally innocent man not to mention looking stupid in the process.
True...everything I did was done in good faith; although, I did it at the
wrong address.
Here's what you always have to remember. Even though you do
something in good faith and it's wrong, it's still wrong. In this instance,
I was pretty lucky. First, when the young man heard the transmission
on my radio, he knew immediately that I had entered the wrong home
believing a police officer needing assistance was inside. Second, I didn't
try to cover up my mistake, and embarrassment, by being arrogant.
No...I simply apologized...and apologized.
A sincere apology can have amazing effects. You hear a lot of people
complaining about their experiences with police officers. While a lot of
it is just sour grapes, some of those complaints will be legitimate. The
young man on the stairs certainly had good reason to be upset with me,
but this incident ended with a young black man patting a young, white
police officer on the shoulder saying, "It's okay officer. It's good to
know you'll come in that quick if somebody needs you."
My amends didn't end with an apology. I got the crew from the
emergency vehicle unit to put the door frame back together as I
suffered their humorous remarks referring to the door frame as a
jigsaw puzzle. I filed the paperwork with the city to have the door
replaced, and I followed up on the request succeeding in having the door
replaced in a record two days. I had already decided that if the city
delayed on the replacement, I was prepared to have it replaced at my
own expense. My sergeant thought the whole thing was pretty amusing.
Of course, he did, because he didn't have to write anything since no
occupants of the house wished to file any complaint regarding my
mistake.
Remember, even when you act in good faith, you can still make a
mistake. Remember this also -- when you're wrong, you're wrong. If
an apology is an appropriate response, you should apologize. While an
apology may not be accepted, it doesn't change the facts regarding your
good faith. Some police officers have a really hard time with admitting
they're wrong about anything. Those same police officers are usually
wrong frequently, and they collect a lot of needless, and avoidable,
complaints.
Technology has come a long way. You'll be equipped with a
portable radio (walkie-talkie) with all kinds of channels, so
you'll be able to monitor or communicate with just about
anyone within your department. It hasn't always been that
way. This is one of those circumstances I mentioned.
As I patrolled by post during a midnight shift, my radio came
alive with a unique alert tone. The tone announced a Signal
13 (officer needs asistance). The Signal 13 was the most
serious request for assistance when called in by the officer. It
simply meant..."HELP!" The alert tone was followed by the
citywide dispatcher, "Signal 13 2020 Saint Paul Street, the
officer is calling it on himself."
Back to the radio. The Signal 13 came from an officer
assigned to a different police district from mine. While my
radio could monitor three police districts, the officer calling
for help was not from one of those districts. That
circumstance wasn't about to affect my response since I was
only four blocks away from him.
As I turned onto Saint Paul Street -- or what I thought was
Saint Paul Street -- I immediately saw the address. The
numbers 2020 were displayed in one foot high wooden block
numbers. I could have seen them even if the police helicopter
-- another circumstance -- hadn't been overhead illuminating
the front of the house with that million candle power spotlight.
I ran up to the front door -- which of course was locked -- and
began pounding and announcing, "Police!" As I pounded on
the door, the alert tone sounded again, and the citywide
dispatcher stated, "Signal 13 2020 Saint Paul Street. The
officer is still calling for help." Except for the officers in the
helicopter, no other officers had yet arrived.
The house was a three story brownstone, and the front door
was big. I mean it was big...a big solid oak door. Had steps led
to the door, as most in the block did, I would have had a
problem. However, fortunately, or unfortunately in this case,
the house had a landing in front of the door. My adrenaline
was pumping as I took a step backward while focusing intently
on the door just below the handle as I prepared to kick in the
door.
To this very day I can see that door opening in slow motion
with pieces of the shattering door frame drifting through the
air as debris from an explosion might appear. Anyway...I drew
my revolver and charged into the house. The house had been
subdivided into apartments, and I found myself standing in a
large foyer with one apartment door to my right, and a large
spiral staircase leading to the second floor.
Almost immediately, the apartment door to my right opened,
and an elderly black man emerged. At that instant, I heard
running footsteps on the staircase. I wheeled around where I
confronted a young black man on the stairs. As I brought my
revolver to bear on the young man, he froze in his tracks. I
shouted to him, "Where's the officer?" The young man didn't
respond, and I repeated the question. Finally, the young man
answered, "What officer?"
Right after the young man's response, the alert tone on my
radio sounded again followed by the dispatcher, "10-32, 10-32
2020 Saint Paul Street, sufficient units are on the scene." It
was at that instant that the silence in that house did become
deafening.
As I lowered my revolver, my next statement to the young
man was subdued, "Tell me this is Saint Paul Street." The
young man answered haltingly, "No...officer...this is...Calvert
Street."
portable radio (walkie-talkie) with all kinds of channels, so
you'll be able to monitor or communicate with just about
anyone within your department. It hasn't always been that
way. This is one of those circumstances I mentioned.
As I patrolled by post during a midnight shift, my radio came
alive with a unique alert tone. The tone announced a Signal
13 (officer needs asistance). The Signal 13 was the most
serious request for assistance when called in by the officer. It
simply meant..."HELP!" The alert tone was followed by the
citywide dispatcher, "Signal 13 2020 Saint Paul Street, the
officer is calling it on himself."
Back to the radio. The Signal 13 came from an officer
assigned to a different police district from mine. While my
radio could monitor three police districts, the officer calling
for help was not from one of those districts. That
circumstance wasn't about to affect my response since I was
only four blocks away from him.
As I turned onto Saint Paul Street -- or what I thought was
Saint Paul Street -- I immediately saw the address. The
numbers 2020 were displayed in one foot high wooden block
numbers. I could have seen them even if the police helicopter
-- another circumstance -- hadn't been overhead illuminating
the front of the house with that million candle power spotlight.
I ran up to the front door -- which of course was locked -- and
began pounding and announcing, "Police!" As I pounded on
the door, the alert tone sounded again, and the citywide
dispatcher stated, "Signal 13 2020 Saint Paul Street. The
officer is still calling for help." Except for the officers in the
helicopter, no other officers had yet arrived.
The house was a three story brownstone, and the front door
was big. I mean it was big...a big solid oak door. Had steps led
to the door, as most in the block did, I would have had a
problem. However, fortunately, or unfortunately in this case,
the house had a landing in front of the door. My adrenaline
was pumping as I took a step backward while focusing intently
on the door just below the handle as I prepared to kick in the
door.
To this very day I can see that door opening in slow motion
with pieces of the shattering door frame drifting through the
air as debris from an explosion might appear. Anyway...I drew
my revolver and charged into the house. The house had been
subdivided into apartments, and I found myself standing in a
large foyer with one apartment door to my right, and a large
spiral staircase leading to the second floor.
Almost immediately, the apartment door to my right opened,
and an elderly black man emerged. At that instant, I heard
running footsteps on the staircase. I wheeled around where I
confronted a young black man on the stairs. As I brought my
revolver to bear on the young man, he froze in his tracks. I
shouted to him, "Where's the officer?" The young man didn't
respond, and I repeated the question. Finally, the young man
answered, "What officer?"
Right after the young man's response, the alert tone on my
radio sounded again followed by the dispatcher, "10-32, 10-32
2020 Saint Paul Street, sufficient units are on the scene." It
was at that instant that the silence in that house did become
deafening.
As I lowered my revolver, my next statement to the young
man was subdued, "Tell me this is Saint Paul Street." The
young man answered haltingly, "No...officer...this is...Calvert
Street."
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