The police all over the United States are under siege. They have a difficult job under the best of circumstances and the circumstances in an upside down political reality have made it nearly impossible. To act results in censure and liability. To not act results in the same. Although I have only been stopped a few times in my life by an officer, I can tell you that the one thing I would never do is mouth off to one, or start waving my arms around or making any kind of sudden movement. It isn't just what I was taught, but it makes absolute common sense. They have no idea of the status of the person they stop, and it only would take one movement for the officer to be dead.
I am sure that I have mentioned, in this blog, a stop that was made of me long ago when I was visiting my old home town, the Bronx. I was driving round and round looking for a parking space on an alternate parking day, which means that people were double parked and there simply was no spot. I was in a rented car in my aunt's neighborhood. I saw the cops parked in their car as I turned and turned, and then suddenly, they stopped me. I had no idea what I had done. As it turns out I made a right on a red, which you can do here in California, but at least then, you could not do in New York. Four officers surrounded my car. They clearly thought I was involved in something beyond a traffic violation. I have always thought that I was a youngish woman in a rented car in a neighborhood that had drug problems. They meant business. Being white and a woman seemed not a privilege, though in those days we weren't using such rhetoric about one another, and was no barrier to their somber approach with hands on their guns. "Do you know what you did?" asked one. "No, Sir." He ultimately told me but only after they checked me out fully. Two officers stayed with me. I stayed still in the car, except to provide, with their permission, the car's bona fides. Neighbors were hanging out their windows. Turned out ok. One of the neighbors asked, "What did you do?" "Turned right on red," I reported. Life went on. But I was shaken.
I had a few less dramatic stops for traffic things over the years, but never did I get the impression that the officers were any less serious, and I believed they were fully within their rights to protect themselves if I did something sudden and stupid. I always understood. They have to be careful.
Things have gotten much worse in the last 20 years. And seeing video after video of the cursing laced talk backs and push backs and outright resistance on my local and national news, and though not considering police any less human than the rest of us, so capable of both mistake and intentional misconduct, I have found that overall police are worthy of my support. They are policing in urban war zones. They are in combat. So, based on my experience as someone stopped, and based on escalated violence by those stopped, I don't rush to judgment on either side, when there is a police involved shooting. And for the most part, with rare exceptions, and despite political propaganda, I have noticed that their actions are usually righteous under the prevailing circumstances.
So, ultimately, I have considered myself a friend of the police.
However, my personal experience when I have had to call them in an emergency, has not been good, and has made me consider that dreaded thing--that when something happens, I should go the other way, and let someone else make the call.
It has happened about five times. The earliest was when I first moved to Los Angeles. I was looking out my then apartment window when I saw a white Ford Falcon driving away having robbed an elderly woman and leaving her flat in the middle of the street. She wasn't moving. I called 911. It's fine that they ask questions that can reasonably be answered. But after I detailed what I saw and her location, the officer on the line, impatiently asked, "Is she hurt?" "Well, I said, I'm in my apartment, and she is lying in the middle of the street. So, I'd say yes." After my call I went outside to assist. There were a few other neighbors who helped get the lady up. She had a head injury of some kind. We brought her into another neighbor's apartment to wait for the police. When police and fire personnel came, they were in haste, impatient, and unconcerned. The lady, still stunned, was not much help in identifying anything or anyone. I gave them what information I had. The TV was on. There was some kind of sports game. Both the cops and the fire people seemed more interested in the game than in the woman or the facts. The lady did not think she to go to tneeded to go to the hospital. Of course, they wouldn't take her unless she insisted on going, but she was still groggy and unclear and certainly needed to be looked at as she was bleeding. The other neighbors were long gone. They weren't taking her to the hospital. The police and fire personnel had been neither attentive nor compassionate. And they just left her there. Though I was feeling really nervous about having an injured person in my car, I took the lady to the hospital. I was able to get a name for some family member, whom I called and informed. The lady had multiple stitches. I waited until someone came to be with her.
A few years later. I had these neighbors, husband, wife, and two kids, three ultimately. They screamed about and to each other all the time. But one night, late, when I am in bed, there was an uptick in the screaming, and breaking glass. It didn't quiet. I was concerned that someone was hurt or was being hurt. I called 911. Again, an operator, was already impatient before I said anything. I reported what I was hearing. "Is there a gun?" I told him where I was. I don't know if there is a gun. How could I know whether there was a gun in the OTHER apartment? Are they expecting me to go and find out? That seems counterintuitive. I hadn't said that I heard a gunshot. I heard screaming and glass breaking. I understand that officers need some information for their safety and for their approach. But I cannot provide information I don't have AND if there is some threshold beyond screaming and glass breaking that I am required to show, well, then I guess I shouldn't have called at all. They ultimately responded. The family still lived there shouting at one another generally, but there was no repeat of that evening while I was in the neighborhood.
My last experiences have been relatively recent.
One night as I came downstairs, I don't remember why, to get mail perhaps, there was a distraught woman outside who said she had been attacked. She looked like she had been. Her dress seemed either ripped or disturbed. I called 911. I don't remember my conversation on the phone, but when a cruiser came, and a few other of my neighbors had come outside, the officer seemed, as they always do, indifferent or annoyed at the potential victim. He wasn't being kind to her at all. I waited so I could offer whatever was needed. The officer asked a question, which I though I could assist with. He said that he wasn't talking to me and suggested strongly I should mind my own business. I thought that odd as the person who had called 911 on behalf of the lady. But I went back into my apartment. Clearly, I was not needed.
A few months ago, I got a call from a woman I did not know, who said that one of my current neighbors had my name as an emergency contact. I know the neighbor casually, to say hello when he walks his dogs, and to talk about things like the weather, but we have no personal relationship, so it was odd that he would consider me an emergency contact. I realized later that likely as all the tenants come to yearly HOA meetings, that's probably why he had my number. The woman said that he was going out of his mind and seemed to expect me to do something. I recommended that she call 911. Despite myself, I went to see if I could help and when I knocked on his door, he was alone. The friend had apparently gone outside to find someone to assist. I checked with another neighbor usually in the know about things in our building as to whether she had any information. As it happens, 911 had been previously called, and the neighbor had declined assistance. But there was clearly something wrong. He was terribly confused. What he was saying made no sense. I thought he might be having a stroke. I didn't want to bother 911, because they had already been there and left when he said he didn't need help, so I called the local sheriff's office to ask for advice. This operator, a woman, was kind. She said that she would alert the same emergency service that had previously attended. By this time, several neighbors, the woman who had called me, and the confused man were in the vestibule. When the police came, the lead officer announced that if he did not want to go to the hospital, that was that. I understand, up to a point, but the man was clearly not competent to make a basic decision. And, as another neighbor noted, along with me, waiting until either he or someone in the building was harmed seemed crazy. Again, I know that this is largely policy. After all, look at all these shootings where the person says they are going to wreak havoc. The police have the person on radar, but that isn't enough, and then he kills a few people. Only then is action taken. But it was, again, the attitude of the officers that was so deeply disturbing. It wasn't very civil, let alone kind. And in fact the officer said that they couldn't keep coming back and that unless circumstances changed we should not call them again. How I would determine, or my neighbors would determine the appropriate circumstances had been reached, was left undetailed. And why would any of us even involve ourselves again having been so roundly rebuffed?
We got lucky. They talked a little more to the neighbor and he finally agreed to be taken to the hospital. He was in the hospital for multiple days. We found some responsible people to assist him. There was a problem that needed to be addressed. And got addressed. But with a lot of push back from the authorities we need to protect us.
This past couple of weeks, I was in my parish during Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament. This is a sacred period for prayer before what Catholics believe is God Himself in the form of Bread that has been Transsubstantiated.
A man came in, clearly homeless. We welcome all, and so as long as he was respectful, and quiet, there would be no issue. But as happens so often in our parish and elsewhere (which is why Churches are being locked so that people cannot come and pray), he could not be quiet. He was either mentally ill or on some drug or both. He began to drum audibly on the pew with his fingers. I thought hard. People were turning around. I was right across from him. I was the closest. I could just leave and let it be someone else's problem. In light of my experiences before, here recapitulated, I truly considered just taking off. But how could I do that in good conscience?
So, I took a deep breath and approached the man gently. I hadn't gotten more than two or three words out when he jerked and said, "You're interrupting my prayers!" And let out a few choice words not suitable for a Church let alone anyplace else.
He got up. He was agitated. I backed away. I went out into the vestibule. At that moment I thought "I don't want to call the cops on this poor guy", but some one needed to be informed. I texted my pastor who said he'd be right there. Meanwhile, another parishioner approached the man who was cursing and walking up and down the aisle. At one point, he looked as if he would be attempting to breach the sanctuary where God is, in our belief. But he didn't. I was concerned now for safety and I called 911. An operator. I explained the situation. A barrage of questions, some of which I could not answer. The man had gone back to the pew and I was looking at him from behind. "What does he look like?" I explained that I was in the vestibule and I was looking at him from behind. I described what I could see. "Is he wearing pants?" I didn't know. I wasn't going to look. The parishioner who had tried to help was arriving in the vestibule. I asked, "Is he wearing pants or shorts?" He was wearing pants. The dispatcher was annoyed. I was getting annoyed. And deeply frustrated. Meanwhile Father came and made a separate call. I couldn't totally hear the dispatcher at this point, but I did hear him say, without much friendliness, "You can hang up now. I said someone is on the way." Meanwhile the man had quieted. The vestibule had more people staying out of the way. I waited outside the Church with Father. The police didn't come quickly. I can somewhat understand their annoyance because this department was just cut of several officers in favor of civilian "Ambassadors" to defuse such situations. Good luck to them.
Four officers arrived. They discussed strategy. Two went in. Two stayed at the door. I have to say that the two officers did a remarkable job. At first, just as had happened to me, the man yelled "I'm praying. You're disturbing my prayer," then descending into multiple lines of cursing. He got agitated and walked up and down. The police were patient and diplomatic. It took a while, but the man agreed ultimately to leave. "Mischief managed".
I have to say that a few years ago, a homeless man did much the same thing in our parish, when I was present. I was asked to call 911. I was greeted with the precise dismissive attitude that I have received on every occasion where I tried to assist. There is a not so subtle response by the authorities that you are bothering them with something not worth their time. I have heard mentally ill homeless routinely disturb our services. This has become a common occurrence at our church, where the doors are kept open so that people might come in and take spiritual rest from the world. Is the solution yet again to lock doors rather than to address the problem?
I want to repeat that I am sympathetic to the burden under which the police must work. They are not allowed to take action when the red flags fly. And so, why would they want to intervene before deadly behavior has occurred? However, I am a friend, and as Teresa of Avila said to the Lord once, "If this is how you treat your friends, no wonder you have so few of them."
The "You're bothering us" attitude which may come from understandable frustration on the part of the police when you try to say something when you see something (the mantra you see on billboards related to other dangerous acts), is like ringing the bell to Pavlov's dog. After a while, they will have modified the behavior not only of some citizens, but of all of them, such that when mayhem is in fact being done, no one will call to assist another.
And I want to remain a friend of the police, which is hard when they keep pushing you away.
