Northern Station Community Newsletter

[webofevil]

The San Francisco Police Department Northern Station community newsletter (PDF) is a straightforward document. It provides useful police numbers, advice on places and behaviour to avoid to minimize the risk of getting mugged, and an update on any recent police actions. Whoever’s been tasked with producing the newsletter, however, fancies themselves as being a little above the job they’ve been allocated:

Northern Station Community Newsletter Tuesday, May 24, 2005

Crimes and Law Enforcement
Monday, May 16, 8:55 AM, Auto Burglary Arrest: Officers Mark Hutchings and Matt Inocencio had been making a passing call in the Sacred Heart Cathedral parking lot when an employee ran up to their radio car to report that a Black male suspect was breaking into a faculty member’s car on the opposite side of the building. The officers spotted the suspect when they rolled up to the reported location right about the same time he spotted them. Perhaps he was too late, but the interloper made a feeble attempt to conceal himself by crouching down between two parked cars. He soon realized the officers’ vehicle had stopped, and one of them was getting out. With that, the miscreant jumped up and bolted south along a ten-foot retaining wall. Both officers gave chase and one shouted, “Stop, police!” He ignored the officer shouting at him and he ran as fast as one can with several items of stolen electronics in his arms. As he ran, he was careful to keep the parked cars between him and the officers closing in. He had not run for very long before he realized the two cops were only pacing him. They could see something he could not. With each frantic step a sense of dread nagged at him. The more calm and calculating they were, the further behind he left his common sense, and his panic ratcheted up. As he ran, the black and white radio car glided silently along behind like a predatory whale. The officer chasing him made sure he only ran in one direction. Both the officers could see he had nowhere to go, but the man frantically cast about for escape routes as he fled. He hadn’t planned on being spotted, and though he swiftly ran out of alternatives among the parked cars, he refused to contemplate giving up.

Finding himself cornered behind a large white van and a garbage stall the suspect desperately sought to scale the retaining wall by vaulting off the hood of a pick-up. The move cost him precious time. In his panic he confused his ability to accomplish the feat with his desperation. Both the suspect and his armload of stolen property bounced heavily off the concrete, and dropped to the ground below. Now the officer who had been running to keep pace with him closed in, and fear of capture charged the fleeing man like a cattle prod. He had just enough time to squeeze in front of the officer and run up a set of stairs, but it would be close. He could plainly hear the officer’s boots hit the pavement behind him. “Stop, police!” If he just concentrated on running, maybe that stolid mask of determination behind him would fade away. He took two stairs at a time. The suspect thought the officer had been just out of reach, below and behind him, when he felt a blunt hard object smack into his lower leg above his right ankle, just as he was about to take a step. The missing support dropped him like a stone. The officer was shouting in his ear now, “Stop! Police!” But he’d given up thinking when he decided to run. The man barely registered the pain. He was down but he had just reached the top step and could see his escape route now, down Cleary Court through the apartment complex. The man tried pushing himself up to continue. This time he could see it. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a black blur as the officer’s baton connected with his right elbow and he collapsed again. “You got me!” He had said it before he realized the words were on his lips. His reflexes were still trying to save him. The officer’s hand was on his back, pushing him to the sidewalk before the idea that he was in custody sank in. “I won’t fight anymore,” he said. He would just as soon that baton be still. That last strike was painful, and he had some thinking to do. With his baton cocked loosely to one side, Officer Hutchings leaned on the man’s prostrate form while he waited for his partner. Then Inocencio arrived and in one flowing movement the man was in handcuffs, on his feet. He took one last glance at his escape route, the one he hadn’t planned for, before the officers walked him back down to their car. One officer had a hold of each arm as they negotiated the stairs. It was odd. They had just used a police baton to stop him, but they were both holding him so carefully. Even so, he couldn’t make himself look into their eyes. He felt like a child. He felt old. The two officers booked their suspect at Northern Station, and gave him a probation hold in addition to his charges of auto burglary and delaying arrest.


Saturday, 12:20 AM, Aggravated Assault with a Knife, Arrest: A resident from the 2300 block of Polk Street suddenly found himself afloat without a paddle when he stopped to admonish three White male suspects for urinating on a wall in Fern Alley. The suspects had been drinking of course, and had little patience for the rebuke. Two of the suspects commenced pummeling the man. One pulled out a knife and slashed his face. This scene unfolded just as uniformed Federal Police Officers Glumaz and Walker rolled by in their patrol car. The suspects fled but the officers detained them not 30 yards away. Five witnesses saw the assault and the two attackers were held to answer. SFPD’s Officer Guiney cut the paper and booked the two suspects at Northern Station with a little help from Officer Aceret.


Sunday, 12:26 AM, Drinking in Public, Resisting, Delaying, Assault on a Police Officer: San Francisco Police Communications sent Officer Kempinski to the report of a homeless person sleeping on the steps of a church at Larkin and Clay Streets. The church had clearly posted no trespassing signs giving any officer the authority to arrest or issue citations to persons who ignore them. Transgressions are chronic, nevertheless. When Kempinski arrived he found a 36 year-old homeless White male drinking from a can of beer in violation of two Municipal Penal Code sections. Regardless, Officer Kempinski had been inclined to be lenient that evening, and simply asked the man to pour out his beer and leave. It was a church after all. This drinker, however, was pathologically malevolent. Kempinski had not made his acquaintance, but the man has a reputation for uncontrollable hatred and violence. There are such people in the world. Psychotic and intoxicated, the man had a paroxysm. After spewing profanity he threw his jacket to the ground and challenged the good officer to a fight. Knotting his hands into a pair of hammers, the subject clenched his teeth and spat, “#@&$%*, you better leave, #@%&* or I’ll kick your ass!” Then charging down the steps he made as though to lunge at Kempinski, but stopped suddenly when the officer pulled out his baton. The man was deranged. He taunted Kempinski, but held his ground. The officer tried using this sudden shift from implacable aggression to invidious ridicule to try and handcuff his suspect. Once Kempinski’s baton was back in his gun belt, however, the suspect flipped again and tried twisting out of the officer’s grip before he could get the cuffs on. Kempinski had a hold on the man’s arm, but just barely. As the suspect struggled furiously, the officer grew concerned that his suspect might break free. He might then have to fight with the guy outright. He would like to avoid this, of course, so he pulled the man off balance and introduced the man to the pavement. With his subject proned out, Kempinski tried keeping him there with an SFPD approved control hold. All the same, the wily bedlamite twisted out of Kempinsky’s grip and kicked at him repeatedly.

This battle was not simply prolonging the suspect’s impending arrest. Kempinski couldn’t afford to lose control of the man, not for his safety or the general public’s. The second the man’s feet thrust out at the officer, the baton came out once more. This time holding the baton high and ready did not work the same charm it had before. The suspect continued to kick, so Kempinski smacked the man’s legs twice. More vitriol. The man spat like a snake and tried standing up. Kempinski told him to stay down, or he would strike him again, but the suspect ignored him. One more well placed baton strike to his legs and the suspect rolled back down to the sidewalk. Holding him at bay like this, the good officer uses the moment to request emergency back up and several units respond. More vindictive. When the cavalry arrives the nut job is still puffing and spitting obscenities. Five additional able-bodied police officers were required to force the suspect into handcuffs. One was injured doing so. Paramedics responded to assess the man’s health, but they were met with the same abuse. Would you be surprised if we told you that Kempinski discovered the man had a felony warrant for his arrest? Probably not. They transported him to San Francisco General, nevertheless. Hours later, day watch officers booked the miscreant at County Jail 9.

Comments

[strictlytrue.livejournal.com]

Some of this is rather good. It would be improved by a sentence saying "My name's Kempinski. I'm a cop. This is the city." etc. but quite enjoyable hard-boiled stuff all the same. You can't knock the bloke for having a go. I wonder whether it'd be worth adapting his approach for turns?

This:
They transported him to San Francisco General, nevertheless. Hours later, day watch officers booked the miscreant at County Jail 9.
is, however, perilously close to "He'll be doing his malevolent drinking in the Stateville prison from now on".

[alfaguru.livejournal.com]

Other parts of the document might benefit from the same treatment:

To qualify to take the police officer examination one must:
> Be at least 20 years old (there is no maximum age limit).
> Be a U.S. citizen or a permanent resident alien. There is no residency requirement.
> Have a valid driver license.
> Have the kind of rugged chin that men envy and women yearn to press their lips against
> Have piercing blue eyes that seem to look right into the soul
> Know when to play a hunch against the odds
> Know when to cut a kid some slack, hey, deep down he's all right
> Be able to lift a rotten nogood by his collar and bark your opinion into his face