The Ride-Along

The following relates my experiences while spending an evening riding along with a Sheriff's Office patrol deputy and his faithful canine companion on 9/27/96.  Public Safety Dispatchers really look forward to these opportunities as it gives us a chance to see the activity on the "other side" of the microphone.   The names and places have been changed due to privacy considerations (even the dogs' name was changed, and he can't even read!).

Deputy Frank Jackson, accompanied by his faithful companion "Festus", picked me up at the Communications Center at approximately 1900 hours. Festus was a nine year-old German shepherd who was still remarkably energetic for his age. He appeared to be well suited for K-9 duty. As turned out to be the case with most strangers, he reacted to my presence in the patrol car with repeated lunging at the thick plastic seat barrier and a barrage of barking. Fortunately he did settle down somewhat after this initial bonding.

Deputy Jackson had been assigned to work (unit id) 89B4 that night, so we headed back towards the central area. He explained that he usually attempted to stay in the busiest area of the central district, so after stopping by my place so I could pick up my jacket, we headed north on Combas Ave towards the Wellbank area.

Shortly after 1917 hours, he volunteered to fill with 81B3 on a family disturbance call that had just occurred at 397 Kreigh Ave. The reporting party's boyfriend had just left on foot, taking her car keys with him. He had apparently refused to give them to her before leaving. Upon arrival, we learned that the vehicle was registered in both their names. Even though she was upset at not having her keys, it was patiently explained to her that there was little the deputies could do to intervene under those circumstances. She was reassured that we would check around the neighborhood for him. 81B3 cleared 10-98 "N" (no report), we cleared "X" (fill unit), and I don't recall that we exerted much effort in checking the area as we headed back towards Combas Ave.

I asked Frank about what guidelines the Sheriff's Office has established for routine use of canines (other than the obvious situations such as searches or intervention when he might be physically struggling with a suspect). He explained that departmental polices are rather strict, and the use of a canine is perceived to be a use of potentially deadly force, almost on a par with the use of their guns. In other words, Festus would usually spend most of the night hunkered down in the back seat, happily gnawing away at what was left of the upholstery back there. I inquired if they have any special training in the recognition of patrol uniforms; Frank said no, adding that Festus acts just as "frisky" around other deputies that he might not know as he does around strangers. Festus, as it turned out, also reacts rather excitedly when seeing other dogs or seeing a motorcycle drive by. He also seemed to know instinctively whenever Frank would press the transmit button on the microphone since he would usually wait until that moment to vocalize such excitement.

Frank mentioned that the siren would also cause Festus to express some concern, but said that the newer patrol cars lessened that problem, since the siren speaker was mounted on the front bumper instead of being directly overhead on the roof. Frank added that it was interesting to watch Festus during a high speed pursuit. He was apparently pretty good at leaning into the turns as he supervised the chase from his back seat vantage point. Frank was looking forward to having an opportunity to demonstrate this to me.

We made a quick car stop over at Irwin and Ellmer after a couple in a rather beat-up looking older American-made sedan appeared to be driving a bit quick. I suppose they were headed home at the time since the stop was made in the driveway of their home. The driver passed the personality test though as Frank cleared shortly thereafter without writing him a ticket.

Since we were both in need of a quick break, we headed over to the 7-11 on Combas Ave near the expressway. He treated me to a cup of coffee (although I'm not sure if he paid for them - I didn't ask, he didn't tell). We then took a few moments to stretch our legs and smoke. Festus gnawed on the upholstery some more. County policy prohibits smoking in County vehicles of course, presumably to keep them smelling nice and fresh. I'm not sure in this case however, if a little smoke residue would have been much worse than the unique lingering fragrance of Festus' steamy breath and saliva stains.

We discussed our mutual concern over the volume of traffic on frequency one, and I added that it had been a significant topic at our shift meeting the day before. Frank mentioned that the amount of traffic the Transit patrol units generate was one of the major contributing factors to the overburdened frequency. I agreed, and reassured him that various options were being explored in order to lessen the traffic volume on any one frequency.

I acknowledged that as dispatchers, it's helpful for us to remember that strict monitoring of the radio is not always going to be the primary concern of the deputies, although we wish that some of them would pay closer attention. I also mentioned the problem of deputies not hesitating after they key the mike, which often results in the first part of their transmissions being cut off. To keep it all in perspective however, it must be kept in mind that to the deputies, the radio is simply another one of the tools they use to support their primary functions of law and/or traffic enforcement duties. To us as dispatchers however, the radio is our primary function and concern. It is nonetheless frustrating for us to realize field units don't always share our same degree of focus on what's happening on the frequency.

It was interesting to note just how often I would hear the dispatcher talking to field units who were not being picked up on our vehicle radio. While Frank would take care to listen for a final acknowledgement from the dispatcher before he transmitted, it's easy to understand how units can "walk over each other" so often. While it's a common perception among many dispatchers that deputies talk over other units even when they can hear them, my impression (at least during this ride) is that this might not occur intentionally as often we think.

I filled Frank in on what I knew about the upcoming changes in the Sheriff's radio system, and we both agreed that the upgrade should bring some much welcome improvements in our communications capabilities. It was his understanding that the new packsets (which would be Motorola) would be the type that use the mobile vehicle radio as a repeater. This would, in effect, give the packsets the same output power as the vehicles. I've heard both good and bad points raised about that type of system (noting that the state highway patrol had apparently been plagued with some problems, especially when they get some distance way from their car), so we'll just have to wait and see.

Back on the road again, we cruised up the alley behind the PussyCat Club. It was a special night at the PussyCat, since they were featuring a performer that is apparently a popular actor in adult videos. Such an event attracts a number of customers from out of the area, as was evidenced by all the high-priced imports parked in the back lots where they wouldn't be seen from the street. Frank often thought it would be fun to have Communications do ATC's (attempt to contact) on some of those vehicles where we would be requested to call a concerned spouse and ask "Ma'am, a deputy just noticed your husbands' Accura was parked behind the PussyCat Night Club; do you know what he might be doing over in this neighborhood?"

Seeking an establishment with a somewhat higher degree of "family values", we headed over to the Club Ten at 414 S. Combas Ave, where we stopped for a premise check. It was a simple little club, devoid of any particular aesthetic style, and catering primarily to neighborhood folks. We chatted a bit with some of the "regulars" sitting at the bar, many of whom knew Frank. After a few moments, a woman rushed in and told Frank that she'd just spotted a couple of kids drinking beer in the field behind the Club. We jumped in the car, and proceeded to drive rather rapidly around the corner in an attempt to intercept them.

At 2037 hours, Frank advised Communications that he was clear "N" from the premise check and 10-95 (person stop) on two subjects at Cotts and Crown. He hit the reds, illuminated them with the spotlight, and asked them to step over to the front of the patrol car. Festus also announced his presence with some more barking. It turned out that the two guys were brothers, and they were just having a beer in the field. The older brother added that he just wanted to get out of the house and away from his "old lady" for awhile. Frank ran 10-27s (check for drivers license and wants) on them both; the older one came back with a misdemeanor warrant for vandalism. Frank asked to have it confirmed for "Cite and Release". After a few minutes explaining why he had stopped them and what his concerns were, Frank cut the younger one loose. I then found out what happens in the field while the deputies wait for the warrant confirmation. Nothing.  Absolutely nothing. Fortunately we all smoked, so that gave us something to do while we made small talk and listened to the radio. Frank took a moment to show me the form he has to fill out for the cite and release. It was interesting to note that a separate form has to be filled out for each individual warrant. It seems to be a needless duplication of effort but I'm sure there are good reasons for it (especially where multiple warrants for an individual might be out of different courts).

With that behind us, it was time to make another roll-by in front of the PussyCat. As we approached, we noticed a number of "Hells Angels" standing in front, waiting, no doubt, for the eagerly-anticipated show to commence. Their "choppers" were neatly parked in front, at the curb. One of the many responsibilities of a patrol deputy is, of course, to maintain good harmonious relationships with the citizens on his beat. Frank demonstrated this to me by picking up his PA microphone as he drove past the club, yelling "Hey, why don't you guys get real motorcycles?!" As I returned to my normal upright position in the front seat, Frank explained to me that he really did know those guys.

We snaked our way through some more of the neighborhood streets, then headed South on Combas again. As we neared the gas station at Combas and Sounder, we noticed a rather odd looking individual standing on the sidewalk. The subject was a male Caucasian, approximately 35-40 years, with long tangled brown hair. He was definitely a transient type, judging by his unkempt appearance and lack of attention to personal hygiene. He was standing absolutely still with his arms slightly outstretched at his sides, and his unflinching gaze was focused on the fluorescent lights adorning the underside of the roof over the gas pump islands.

Frank advised Communications that he was initiating a person-stop here, and we stepped over to the individual to see what was going on. To say he was a man of few (and incoherent) words would have been an understatement. He had no identification on him other than some type of wrist band (Frank at first thought it was a county hospital wristband, but upon closer inspection, it turned out to be from the local detention facility). He was finally able to elicit enough information to run a subject check. The guy had a $6000.00 warrant out of San Francisco for a section dealing with inhalation of toxic chemicals. Since the name, DOB, and physical description matched, and the type of crime seemed to "fit" this particular gentleman, Frank asked that the warrant be confirmed for booking.

About this time, 87B5 arrived to take over the arrest. We all moved over to the side of the gas station near some pay phones, so as not to block the main exit. A couple of nicely dressed young ladies had previously pulled up there in a BMW so one of them could make a phone call. The lady who had remained in the car behind the wheel appeared to find the sight of our "detainee" extremely interesting (and perhaps, I perceived, rather discomforting). She watched the whole process behind a tightly rolled up window, as she waited for her companion.

87B5 slipped on a pair of rubber gloves, and proceeded to carefully empty the subject's pockets. When the deputy asked the subject to turn around, I noted that he had already placed his hands in the "handcuff" position behind his back, without having to have been told. He may have been disoriented, but he knew where he was going.

After clearing that detail, we cruised some more through the various streets in Wellbank. We made another pass through the parking lot at the Club Ten. The lady who had previously advised us about the two kids drinking in the field flagged us down as we slowly drove through the parking lot. She was just curious if we had found them and what had happened. It turns out that this woman, who was named Lisa "something", was the owner of the Club Ten (I was having trouble hearing over Festus's barking and Frank's yelling at Festus to stop barking). Apparently, she had recently completed a total re-modeling of the club's interior. She seemed nice enough and we chatted a few more minutes before moving on.

It was an unusually slow night for a Friday, but the cooler weather that night was probably a contributing factor. After awhile, 87B5 had cleared his transportation and booking detail, and upon returning to the area, had stopped a couple of kids at Carsantos and Welles. Frank rolled up to see if his assistance would be needed. They had apparently been sitting around the back of the building drinking some beer. After ensuring everything was under control, Frank cleared. Before leaving, I noticed, with some amusement, the bumper sticker on the back of 87B5's patrol car. It read "My child was Inmate of the Month at the County Jail". Interesting...

Since it was approaching 2300 hours, we headed back to Communications so Frank could drop me off. While I hadn't had the opportunity to see anything particularly exciting, the ride-along had still been an enjoyable and worthwhile experience. As Communications Dispatchers, we face an intense day-to-day interaction with real-world situations from the sheltered environment of the control room. Due to that isolation, the nature of the work can easily take on a somewhat abstract characteristic after awhile as fires, medical emergencies, car stops, and family fights become represented only by a few lines of upper-case text on a display terminal. Ride-alongs reinforce the reality of what our job is all about as we see the effects of our radio transmissions impacting the lives of others in the community.

As I mentioned to Frank, one of our frustrations is the lack of any real closure on the calls we deal with. A complaint taker talks to a frantic caller, and then sends the information up to the radio dispatcher, who needs to put aside all sorts of other pending tasks in order to speed deputies to a possible fight in progress. They arrive and ask for a frequency restriction as they're not quite sure what will confront them. We may sit and wonder just what is really going on out there, and then a deputy simply advises us "code-four" (no further assistance needed). Perhaps a short time later, it's "10-98 no report". End of story. While we all accept that as part of the job of course, ride-alongs remain a valuable tool that allow us to better appreciate the role we play, and enable us to foster a clearer working relationship with those on the other side of the "mike". Frank empathized completely. Festus just barked.

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