WHO’S GOT
WHO’S BACK?
Aptly named Pub in
Woodside, Queens.
TAGS:
NYPD, “COP THINK”, RACIAL DIVIDE, POLICE OFFICER DARREN WILSON,
FERGUSON,
MISSOURI, POLICE/PUBLIC RELATIONS,
HONEST DISCOURSE NEEDS TO REPLACE HEATED DEBATE,
FACTS
VERSUS FICTION, LEGAL – JUDICIAL SYSTEM GRINDS SLOWLY,
TRUTH
– THE TRUTH WILL EMERGE – IT ALWAYS DOES,
THE
JOB
A BROODING CYNIC EDITORIAL
(Friday August 29, 2014,
Woodside, Queens, NYC) Within a short
walking distance of the subway stop that brings you from Manhattan to this
historically Irish neighborhood, there are dozens of bars, taverns, pubs and eateries. While the Irish remain the predominant
residents of this small neighborhood there are signs of other more recent
arrivals that’ve set up a variety of shops and services. Still, for most of us of a certain age
familiar with Woodside, the name itself evokes memories of long nights of
drinking until sunrise following a 4 to 12 tour of duty. There are a handful of these bars that have
historically been known as “Cop bars”; establishments frequented by Cops for
generations. It is in an atmosphere such
as one elbow in a long wooden bar where a few Cops had gathered for the
night. Partially concealed in shadow and
creating their own cloaking plumes of cigarette smoke (Bloomberg be damned),
the men spoke quietly but passionately about the current events and high
profile episodes that have left them disillusioned, frustrated, and angry. Cops haven’t the luxury of bringing such
feelings to work; they become masters of “compartilization”
On this one particular night
earlier this week, the small cluster of Cops who’d gathered at their
traditional corner of the bar represented a good cross section of the
NYPD. There were several 30 year plus
Detectives, a Patrol Lieutenant, and a solid handful of street cops with time
on the Job ranging from 7 to 22 years;
two where Black, one Puerto Rican, and one who had moved with his family
from Lebanon to Astoria, Queens when he was an infant. On this warm night there was none of the
usual “Cop talk”; none of the usual pissing and moaning about bosses, jobs
they’d rolled on earlier, pay or pensions.
The entire conversation was of the “bunker mentality” that seems to be
spreading through NYPD like a slowly mutating virus that is contagious. Cops by their very nature are an extremely close-knit
fraternity, tight lipped, somewhat paranoid, suspicious cynics. Their experiences contribute to the
acquisition of such traits; traits that have real practical advantages out on
the streets in the Line of Duty (LOD).
Yet for every one of those
traits there is a parallel characteristic that is also acquired on the
Job. Since day after day, night after
night, Cops deal with people at their absolute worst, not just the criminals
but, innocent by-standers and reluctant witnesses, crying children hiding under
beds or in closets to escape the fury that was raging in the next room, the
desperate and downtrodden who comprise the “unseen” New York. Each of those sorts of interactions leaves a
mark on the soul of a Cop since the overwhelming majority of them are fine and
decent people, “Stand up guys” – hard working men and women who often spend
their tour of duty as arbiters, expeditors, curb-side negotiators settling
beefs between people of all sorts without the use of any more force than the
power of their words and their ability to connect to those they serve.
Arguably it is more difficult
by orders of magnitude to be a Cop today than it has ever been in the long
history of our City. On January 1, 1898
the City we know today came forth by the official consolidation of Brooklyn,
The Bronx, Manhattan, Queens and Richmond (Staten Island). That same day marked the formation of the
unified NYPD; the consolidation of the 18 existing local police entities into a
singular Department. The last 116 years
have been eventful as our City arose to occupy the unrivaled title of The
Greatest City in the World. No other
city even comes close. New York City has
often been the front-runner and bellwether in areas ranging from banking,
commerce, finance, fashion, entertainment, shipping, innovation and has set the
standards in a wide array of policies and procedures widely emulated by cities the
world over.
The NYPD is also regarded as
the most elite municipal, “large city” Police Department in the world and it
has been that way for many, many years.
Tactics and practices born within the NYPD over the years have been
adopted by most major cities by now even if they have been tailored on a local
level to more readily fit the demographics and population density of those
other locations. New York City, even
more than Washington, DC, is the preeminent international City in America for numerous
reasons. Yes, we have the right to be a little cocky in
our talk and walk; after all, we do live in the center of the universe in many
ways.
ACCOUNTABILITY
Since the August 9th
shooting death of Michael Brown, an 18 year old unarmed black teen by a white Ferguson,
Missouri Police Officer, Darren Wilson, there has been much heated debate about
accountability. The predominantly black population
of Ferguson has marched, demonstrated, and protested, both peacefully and
chaotically in the weeks after that tragic event. Michael Brown was finally laid to rest last
week and Officer Wilson remains essentially in hiding at an undisclosed
location. Peace or even any reasonable facsimile
thereof for Officer Wilson will be a long time coming. Yes, Mr. Brown is dead yet most of the
fundamental questions regarding their fateful encounter on that Ferguson street
have yet to be answered or made public.
The hue and cry from the black
community in Ferguson and other places, from the pulpits of black churches and from
the dripping venom spouted by all the usual black “activists” demanding
accountability can be distilled down to one basic notion; they have already
decided the outcome of the case, have found Officer Wilson guilty and will not
rest until that young Officer is tried as a murderer. Facts be damned; the court of public
sentiment has spoken and will continue to speak until their “demands” are met. The legal process cannot move quickly enough
for these people.
In reality the legal process
is notorious slow; it is a long grind rather than a quick sprint. In this case a Grand Jury that meets just
once a week will hear all the evidence
the Prosecutor’s Office has accumulated, processed, and analyzed and it is
their task – and their task alone – to decide what, if any charges are leveled
on Officer Wilson. Despite the popular
belief, the Grand Jury empaneled to hear the evidence in this case is
demographically representative of the community. Most people who are called to serve on such
panels take their civic duty very seriously.
The Grand Jury component of our judicial system is tried and
true and, although it is secretive, in the overwhelming majority of the cases
such panels hear, they arrive at fair conclusions. The concern in this case is that if the Grand
Jury does NOT find any criminal negligence, homicidal intentions, or
professional misconduct on the part of Officer Wilson, the Ferguson streets
will once again erupt in civil disorder if not riotous reactions.
ATTITUDES
We will give credit where
credit is due. In the weeks since August
9th there have been some very logical, thoughtful, and reasonable expressions
in the media about Ferguson. Yes, the
race-baiting, rabble-rousing, opportunists have occupied center stage for much
of the time but in responsible newspapers and media outlets across the country
there has been much objective, unbiased opinions stated as well as no small
measure of unbiased analysis. However,
in too many instances the “debate” has been less than nuanced with all
extenuating circumstances obscured by numbers and statistics. While this data may satisfy academics and “experts”
it does little to portray the reality on the streets of many cities and
communities from coast to coast.
Statistics, after all are, as malleable as Play Dough and add little to
the civil discourse that needs to be transpiring between the Law Enforcement
Community (LEC) and the populaces they serve. The numbers game is a red
herring. What matters, what really
counts, are attitudes on both sides of the gapping divide between the Police
and the public. Once both sides dig in their respective heels,
adopt “us against them” mentalities, and rush to judgment prior to the facts
there can be no honest debate, no reasoned levelled playing field for both
sides to meet and discuss, as adults, the endemic plagues that define much of
our society and most of the LEC’s interactions in the communities they
patrol.
There is a moral high ground
upon which people of good will from both sides can interact towards a common
objective. Such a process is doomed to
fail well before it even is given the breathing room to begin when attitudes
and raw emotion still define the divide.
BACK TO WOODSIDE
As the night wore on and bled
into the small hours of the next day there was much exchanged among those who’d
gathered that night. Numerous pints of
Guiness, dozens of shots of Jameson’s, rounds of high-balls and cocktails of
every variety were consumed yet the discussion was of such intensity as to keep
each participant focused and sober. That
does not happen very often. As Shamus the
bartender kept the glasses full and ashtrays empty (yes, we still smoke in this
noble saloon) no solutions emerged despite earnest efforts to identify
one.
By the time the group walked
down 61st Street in search of a diner breakfast and coffee – lots of
coffee – they were no closer to answers then they’d been after the first round
of drinks had been served. If anything,
there was an uncharacteristic reticence about them; not the usual ribald wife
and girlfriend jokes, none of the typical banter that flows so easily between
Cops like so much hot air blasted into a subway station as the train
approaches. It could be said there was a
sadness among them; a sullenness, actually.
Men (and, of course, women) who go to work every day never absolutely
positive they will go home again think in a certain way. That way is not to be
discussed here; it is merely mentioned as a fact of life. That risk is real but
seldom acknowledged. It silently
accompanies every Cop to work each day and sits like a greasy film on long
since painted walls in Precinct locker rooms from the Bronx to the ass end of
Brooklyn. Balls and genetic bravado
conceal a great deal.
The sun rose as a small, well
defined pink dot over the Atlantic and spread pale but vibrant hues on the few
clouds that happened to find their way to that morning. After the big, greasy sloppy breakfast was
eaten, there were handshakes and hugs all around. Backs were slapped, shoulders gripped and
shaken, and all parted content in having gone through the venting process. Some would make role call that afternoon;
others had a day or two off and would return to Orange, Nassau or Rockland
County for much needed sleep and family time.
A scarce few without wives and children would return to their rent
controlled apartments, perhaps have a beer before bedtime and sleep the pure
sleep of men with rigorous consciences, solid principles and very clear
identities.
None would dream of the
realities of the world, their world.
Sleep was far too precious to forfeit on the questions of the day.
Copyright The
Brooding Cynyx 2014 © All Rights Reserved
