I retired five years ago today, (1980-2020 – 8 years reserve deputy, 32 years regular deputy) I wrote this of my experience before I retired. My son is currently Major Crimes DET/SGT at my old agency.

THE JOB… By Sgt. Fred M. Neiman Remind those few, should ill of us they speak… That we are all that stand between the Monsters and the weak… Author Unknown IT WAS A DARK AND STORMY NIGHT… I know, not the most original way to begin a story, but really, it was a dark and stormy night and in those pre-dawn hours a drenching rain pelleted the pavement creating rivulets of water flowing in all directions and nothing much was moving on the streets. I found myself parked alongside another patrol cruiser, driver’s door to driver’s door as we shared the relative shelter beneath a gas island canopy at a closed and darkened filling station. We chatted about nothing in particular awaiting daybreak and dayshift coming into service signaling the end of night watch. This other deputy had been one of our agency’s very earliest K-9 handlers. His dog had been very successful with many criminal captures to his credit, but as happens with all living things, time and the toils of duty had taken a toll, no longer able to keep pace his dog had been retired and was now just a family pet, although I suspect still a pretty good watchdog to have around. In idle conversation I asked the deputy, “You still have your old dog?” “Yes, he’s still with us,” he answered. I’m not sure why I asked this but I said, “You think that old dog ever misses coming to work with you?” He paused and a sad sort of smile crossed over his face before he replied, “You know, most of the time that dog is perfectly happy to just lie around and not do much of anything, but on those days he catches me getting ready for work, it’s like he’s a pup again, he jumps and dances around my feet because he thinks maybe today is the day I get to go back to work. It’s all I can do to slip past him and get out the door and then he stands at the window and he watches until my squad car drives out of sight. Then, the wife says he goes over to his rug, lies down and goes to sleep. Yeah, I know that dog misses THE JOB.” Well, that deputy retired decades ago and that old dog; he lived out a long and happy life with people that cared for him. They’re both gone now, but I occasionally think of them and I’m reminded that the work we do in law enforcement is so much more than just a job. You know, that very first time you clear roll call briefing as a solo patrol officer, you’ve completed months of training and coaching, passed every test, met every qualification and somewhere an administrator has reviewed your training jacket and deemed you an acceptable risk to practice law enforcement in the name of your agency. Now, the awesome burden of the oath you swore to protect, serve and impartially enforce the rule of law rests squarely on your shoulders. The moment you call in-service with dispatch, you, and you alone are now the principal provider for the preservation of the peace and the maintenance of social order within the boundaries of your patrol beat assignment. To be sure, you have ample assistance available if need be, but only you ride the tip of the spear. When the alert tones blare from your radio speaker, you reach without hesitation; throw the switch for lights and siren, punch the accelerator and race off to answer the call. When you arrive on scene all eyes there turn to you, for whatever has taken place there is so far beyond their ability to cope with that someone has punched that panic button we know as 911 and now everyone there looks to you to restore their world to some semblance of order. And that is…EXACTLY what you do. As the weeks become months and the months turn to years, you and your squad become remarkably adept at crisis management. In fact, you come to believe there’s nothing that your squad can’t handle, control, capture, quell or contain for either S.W.A.T. or detectives. Your squad thrives on caffeine, adrenaline and camaraderie – a very special camaraderie forged only in the throes of strife and conflict. For it’s in the midst of those most chaotic episodes, when there can be no room for doubt and you know your patrol partners are depending on you every bit as much as you are relying on them, that all your senses awaken and you have never felt more vitally ALIVE. In time, you will come to know the spectrum of human drama, comedy and tragedy – from the heights of hilarity to the depths of depravity, you are spared nothing; you see it all. You will be praised and profaned, admired and scorned, greeted with compliment and faced with contempt, but it really means very little to you, you know you’re on the side of good. Just as those valiant Knights of the Round Table once rode through the land, defenders of the defenseless, champions of the realm, so too do you ride into battle on a white steed of steel, your shield held proudly before you. And in-between shoplifters and traffic stops, you right wrongs, bring law breakers to justice and in your own way; help vanquish villainy – one call at a time. You work at a job few others would do and fewer still could do. You and those like you are the very fabric of the social contract – all that separates civility from anarchy. At times you are the final strand in society’s safety net – you may stretch but you must never break, the consequences are far too dire. Yes, it’s true, you do feel the power of the authority that’s been entrusted to you and when you allow yourself the introspective, you find it… Exhilarating. You’re a cop, but it’s not what you do, it’s who you are… That’s THE JOB. But then… One day… You solve a crime. You return a bag of stolen loot to the rightful owner, not much more than baubles and trinkets really, but to them priceless family heirlooms beyond value and you see the gratitude expressed in their face. You arrest a monster and lock him away where he can no longer prey on the innocence of his victims and you watch fear evaporate as you tell them, the monster will not return. You deliver a wandering four year old back into the arms of his parents who have just spent anxious hours fearing the very worst and as their tears fall freely you feel their joy and relief for their most precious possession on this earth was gone and is now safely returned… …and that sense of power… you felt so strongly… it begins to turn to a much greater glory. People need you – people need what only you and those like you have been uniquely purposed to provide. Those that count on you, those that trust you’ll always be there day or night and no matter the cost, you will never abandon them, because they’re THE JOB. One day you find yourself down a long driveway at a lonely farmhouse speaking with the elderly woman that lives there. Though you have other things to do, you accept her invitation of coffee and a slice of homemade apple pie and you listen as she tells you of her life there with her husband and their children, when all the county roads were gravel and life moved at a much slower pace. You hold a baby in your arms at the scene of a horrific car crash. Safely secured in her carrier, the child is unharmed yet she clings to your chest. Somehow she knows her world’s just been rocked and she finds comfort with you. You hover over the girl’s mother, stretched out on a gurney being treated by medics. She’s unable to speak but her eyes plead with you. You lean in and whisper an assurance only she can hear as she drifts from consciousness and in that instant you share a bond with her child that could be no stronger if she was of your own flesh and blood. You roll up on a group of teens in the process of destroying private property and although you could, and perhaps you should, book them all into juvenile for felony mischief. Instead you help them to repair the damage they’ve caused. Then you stand behind them as they stammer out an apology to the property owner. A young man approaches you in the grocery store, his young wife and a toddler in tow. You don’t remember him but he’s never forgotten you and he tells you of a crossroads in his life and the role you played. Sometimes I think I may not be so very different from that old dog so long ago, except… I know… I know the day is coming when I will watch my son ride out to battle dragons and perform good deeds in the land and like that old dog, I will stand at the window and watch until his patrol car drives out of sight and I’ll be wishing I was going with him, but I won’t because he has THE JOB now… Credit Fred Neiman