Do you know how many people died today in traffic collisions?

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How important is traffic safety to you?

How many people were killed in the time it took you to watch your favorite TV show? Do you know how many people were killed in the time it took you to drive to work, pick up your kids and go to soccer practice?

How important is this subject to you?

Now, try asking how important this subject is to the person who lost their husband, wife, son, daughter, grandmother, grandpa or child in a traffic collision. Try asking someone who has permanent back pain after being involved in a collision.

How important is this subject to them? It’s more important than you know.

32,719 people were killed in traffic collisions in the United States in 2013. That’s an average of 89 people a day. Every day.

That’s almost an average of 4 people an hour.

Ask any officer or firefighter who has been to a fatal collision. They’ll tell you how it didn’t have to happen. They’ll also tell you how many times they’ve seen carelessness take a life away.

The most painful sound to hear is a family screaming and crying after being told that their loved one was killed in a car accident. It’s the type of sound that stays with you. It’s the type of sound that hurts to listen to it.

You can feel if vibrating through your bones as each cry seems to pass through you like a cold wind on a winter day. It bites and cuts through you. It makes you shiver.

The sound eventually leaves, but it lingers like fingers grabbing at your heart to tug at it. You try to ignore it, but you can’t.

If every person heard that sound, it would scare them into being a safer driver. If every person could walk with me as I stepped over body parts at a collision scene, they would understand what it means to be a safer driver.

If every person knew what it was like to look at the bottom of their boots to make sure there was no flesh or brains in the groves, they would be a safer driver.

If every driver knew what a burning car with people inside smelled like, they would want to be a safer driver.

And finally, if every person could see what a child looks like after their head was run over by a car, they too would want to be a safer driver.

It’s these sights, smells and sounds that have made me be a safer driver. Now, let’s talk about that question I asked in the beginning.

How important is this subject to you?

Pass this along to someone and let’s try and get people to be safer drivers.

Thank you to the officers in Baltimore

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I sat in front of my TV and watched the Baltimore riots and felt pissed. I felt anger for what they were doing and I felt sorry for the cops standing in the skirmish line.

How can anyone set fires like that and think it’s OK? How can someone go into the street and destroy property like that? How can someone cut a fire hose or throw rocks at a fire truck?

As the rioters threw rocks and bottles it reminded me of a scene from the Middle East in the 1980s.

But it wasn’t the Middle East.  It was about 40 miles from the White House in the United States of America. That’s not supposed to happen here.

As I watched, I also felt anger for what the cops were going through. I watched them in the skirmish line with their helmets, shields and batons and I sympathized with them. That easily could’ve been me and my friends working the line.

They didn’t ask to be there. They didn’t have anything to do with what the protest was about. They were just stuck there doing a job that anyone of us could’ve been stuck doing.

I watched as rocks and other objects were thrown at them and I was pissed. I was even more pissed when a guy walked up to the skirmish line with a trash can that was on fire and threw it at them.

It made me more frustrated to watch as the skirmish line stood there and didn’t advance to take the rock throwers into custody.

From the news reports, it appeared the officers had their hands tied behind their backs by the higher ups. Shame on the command staff for letting that happen.

Tonight was my first day back to work since my days off. Thankfully everything was normal in my city. Citizens waved and said hi. People said thank you when I was finished with my calls. One guy on a bicycle even told me he was sorry  I had to come out after he was hit by a car. That was far different from what was going on 3,000 miles away.

Tonight’s shift made me feel grateful for where I worked. It also made me think of the men and women in Baltimore that weren’t so lucky the last few nights. My helmet was in the truck of my patrol car while other cops had all of their gear on in a hostile environment.

The last few night most people watched TV and only saw officers in helmets. I bet most never thought of the face, behind the plastic shield.

Under each helmet was a person. A real human being with feelings and emotions. They were husbands, wives, fathers, mothers, sons and daughters who just happened to be cops.

Try to imagine what it was like to be in their shoes during the last few days. Hopefully you can sympathize with what they went through. It’s not an easy job, but someone has to do it.

Thank you to all the officers in Baltimore.

A lot of us prayed for you while you were working in hell. Stay safe out there and keep those shields up.

Police work is a team effort

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There are a lot of things written about the police profession by officers. The subjects include, news related items, tactical articles, peer support, mental wellness, physical conditioning, and stress management to name a few.

But no one ever writes about the teamwork that is involved. The teamwork part of police work is what makes this job fun and manageable.

Police work is like a football team in a game. Everyone on the field is working toward one goal.  It’s a team effort from the kick off to the final whistle when the clock runs out.

Every call in police work  is a team effort, but from time to time sometime big happens and you truly get to see it in action. It could be a shooting scene with tons of witnesses or a major injury collision with multiple vehicles that is complete and utter chaos.

Those type of calls never happen at a convenient time, but everyone comes together to get the job done. When these calls happen, it’s actually fun to be part of because of the teamwork that’s involved.

No one person can handle everything that needs to be done and the other cops know that. When there’s a big scene they go to the person handling the call and ask, “What do you want me to do?” or “What do you need?”

This past week I got to be part of some great teamwork at some very big collision scenes.

It was impressive to see so many police cars and fire trucks in one place and everyone taking a piece of the pie. It’s nice to be part of something that is supposed to run smoothly and actually does.

It’s also nice to know you can depend on so many people when things are crazy and out of control.

At the end of the day it’s my name at the bottom of those reports, but it doesn’t reflect the many others who helped. It doesn’t show the many unseen faces that are in the trenches doing the work that some people couldn’t stomach doing.

It also doesn’t reflect the dispatchers on the radio and the non-sworn personnel who helped.

When it’s all said and done, no one ever talks about the guys and girls who jumped in with both feet, rolled their sleeves up and got to work with no complaining.

I’m here to say thanks guys for being part of the madness.

The Legend of Green Mist in Chino Hills

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Did you ever go up to Green Mist?

Was there a local legend where you grew up that no one could explain? Was there a spot that was shrouded in mystery? We had such an area in Chino Hills called “Green Mist.”

I graduated from high school in 1989, but it wasn’t until 1997 when I was a police officer that the mystery of Green Mist was finally solved for me.

When I was in high school the kids would talk about an area in Chino Hills called Aerojet or Green Mist. The words were used interchangeably.

The local legend said there was a missile launch site up there. It was also a place of animal sacrifice and satanic worship. There was talk about a Green Mist or fog that hung over the hills at times that couldn’t be explained.

This area was the forbidden spot that you had to visit at night before leaving high school. It was just something you had to do.

So, one night during my senior year, four of us drove up to Chino Hills in my 73 VW Bug to visit Green Mist.

We drove down Peyton Dr, which dead ended at Woodview Rd. A right turn and then a quick left led you into a dark wooded area with no street lights. It was pitch black.

My car slowly went up the road as we waited for some satanic cult to appear in robes like zombies in the night. The trip up this road was like a conveyer belt with no reverse. There was no turning back. We were committed to go all the way to the top.

The goal was a locked gate with a security camera a few miles away. We just had to make it to the gate and back without the car stalling or some other crazy thing happening in the dark. This was Green Mist. According to legend, anything was possible.

This was the stuff horror movies were made of.

The road started to climb and curved back and forth as it went up the side of the hill. There were no guard rails and the drop off over the edge into the canyon added to the mystery of the area.

After an eternity in the dark we made it to the end of the road. No ghosts or people in robes attacked us so it was all downhill from here. Down we went, hoping not to encounter anyone. When we got back to Peyton Dr we were finally able to breathe a sigh of relief. We even had a sense of accomplishment. Don’t laugh. It was just part of growing up in that area.

Let’s fast forward to 1997 when Aerojet came up again.

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One night I was working when I stopped at a gas station. A man walked up to me and asked if his kids could look at my police car. I said sure and opened up the doors so they could look inside.

Out of the blue the father said, “I used to work for Aerojet.” What were the odds of him saying that 8 years after I graduated from high school? I don’t know why he brought it up, but I’m glad he did.

“What was Aerojet?” I asked.
“We were a defense contractor.”
“What did you do up there?”
“We made weapons for the military.”
“Was there a missile silo up there?”
“No,” he said with a laugh.

He went on to tell me they used to put land mines up in Chino Hills during the Vietman war. He said they used to take human cadavers and blow them up so see how much damage was done with a land mine. They would then take the body back and study it. They would then tweak the power of the land mine so it would maim rather than kill.  When he saw the surprise on my face he said, “It was war.”

He also said every once in a while a cow would blow up and they eventually stopped doing that when more houses were built in the area.

That’s when he said the one thing that solved the mystery of Green Mist for me. During his story he told me how they exploded different gases to do tests. He said, “Sometimes there was fog and it would turn green from the gas. It was a green fog.”

That was the Green Mist! The mystery was solved.

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Today, my son and I made the Green Mist journey. We drove up to Chino Hills and turned onto the old road that was narrower than I remembered. There were the same old trees with branches like arms and fingers reaching out to us as we made our way around the curves. At one point my 12 year-old said, “I can see how this could be scary.” I told him there was something weird about the area and he agreed.

You can only go so far now because the road is closed. We drove to another spot and parked. We then hiked uphill all the way up to the gate, which is still locked. The security camera is still there and stands as a symbol of the secrets the hills still have after all these years.

The sign warned of “Danger- Explosives Hazardous Waste Area” as a reminder that this place was once a “war factory” in the hills that no one knew about.

We stood triumphantly in front of the gate as we took in the view of the valley. It was hot after our uphill hike and the afternoon breeze felt good. We then started down the hill back to reality.

It’s funny how this one spot had been the subject of so many high school conversations for years from the 1960s to the mid-1990s.

And here I was again in 2015 with my son. We even took a selfie up there.

My son was fascinated by the story of Green Mist and he said he would hike up there again. As we walked back down he said, “That was fun.” As a father, that’s all you can ask for. He’ll never forget the first time he went up to see Green Mist, just like I never forgot mine.

I find it amazing how this road could capture my son’s curiosity 26 years later like it had for us back in the day.

As for the Aerojet area. It closed down in 1995 and is part of a $46 million cleanup. Google “Aerojet Chino Hills” and you’ll be shocked at what was going on up there for almost 40 years. Mustard and tear gas weapons were exploded, along with depleted uranium-tipped projectiles. There was also contaminated runoff that made its all the way to the Santa Ana River into Orange County. There were also cases of cancer that was blamed on the run off.

Today there’s  a golf course and housing track called Vellano a few hundred feet away. I wonder if any of those people know the legend of Green Mist.

Body Worn Camera

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 Say Cheese

This weekend was the first time I ever used my Taser body worn camera (BWC). It was an easy transition from the Puma audio recorder we were issued a few years ago. Like anything new, you just have to get used to turning it on and off.

I don’t see the BWC as a bad thing. It’s a good thing that was needed in today’s volatile climate. If the BWC shows a suspect is guilty and keeps me out of court then it’s a good thing. If a person lies about something and the camera was running, then it did its job.

Is the BWC the end all when it comes to investigations?

The BWC shows a lot, but it can’t replace the good old human eye, head and neck. The head can turn to look. The BWC can’t. Its field of view is dependent on where the officer wears it.

As an officer, you’re trained to keep you gun side back. That means standing at an angle to a suspect with the gun away. Since my BWC is on my belt that means its field of view might be turned slightly away from the suspect.

I bring that up because a non-law enforcement person might wonder why the video didn’t show everything they expected to see. There’s just no perfect place to wear it.

When I entered the Orange County Sheriff’s Academy in 1994 I never imagined wearing a camera while working. It wasn’t  something you thought about. As the years went by, new technology changed how we did things. Equipment got faster, smaller and smarter.

The BWC age is upon us, so you might as well embrace it because it’s not going away. If you don’t have a BWC yet, you will soon.

There’s an interesting feature about the camera when the power switch is on. It’s always recording the last 30 seconds with no audio. When you activate the camera to the record mode  the audio then starts. The BWC retains the last 30 seconds of video prior to the record button being activated.

So, this brings me to an interesting thing about the BWC. I’m not worried the BWC is going to show me doing something wrong.

The main thing you have to worry about with the BWC is to make sure the power is off when you go to the rest room….

I didn’t think about it until the first time nature called and I had this new piece of technology attached to the front of my belt.

Let me say that again. “Attached to the front of my belt.”

It’s just a little something the newbies to the world of law enforcement cameras should think about. It brings new meaning to being caught with your pants down….

The age of the body worn camera is upon us. Say Cheese.

“Everyone Speaks Tow Truck”

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I shouldn’t be surprised at work anymore, but it still happens. Just when I think I’ve seen it all….

On Friday night I went to a call where an unlicensed driver made a left turn in front of another car and they crashed. There was nothing shocking about that because unlicensed drivers crash all the time where I work. It’s the norm rather than the exception.

I went to speak to the unlicensed driver and asked him what happened. He asked me if I spoke Spanish. I told him I didn’t. We weren’t able to communicate so I called for a Spanish speaking officer to respond to assist me.

I called for a tow truck because I was going to impound the unlicensed driver’s truck. I then went to interview the other driver. When I was done with that I stood by waiting for the tow truck and the Spanish speaking officer. That’s when the tow truck pulled up.

I pointed to the crashed truck and told the tow driver that I was impounding that vehicle. That’s when the unlicensed driver said in perfect English, “Why are you taking my truck?”

I actually stared at him for a second wondering how all of the sudden English words were coming out of his mouth. It was like a bolt of lightning  struck and turned him into an English speaker. It was of Biblical proportions on Good Friday.

That’s when I said, “I thought you didn’t speak English.”
“I speak a little.”
“784, cancel the Spanish speaker. My driver started speaking English when he saw the tow truck.”
“10-4,” replied the dispatcher.

I was then able to conduct the interview with his English and the “car accident” Spanish that I know.

It was at that moment I was taken back to a saying a friend once said at work. It’s the type of saying that has stayed with me for years and I’ve tried to pass it on to other officers. Those particular words were perfect for this moment…..

“Everyone speaks tow truck.”

No matter what the situation, the sound of a tow truck can wake the heaviest of sleepers. Bring a tow truck into a neighborhood and people will pour out of their apartments.

There could be five police cars parked in a neighborhood and some people might watch. Have a tow truck drive in and doors will fly open. People can’t get out of their apartments fast enough. Even the stray dogs in the area come by to watch.

Up until last night, I had no idea a tow truck had the power to make a person speak English.

Like the saying goes……“Everyone speaks tow truck.”

You Gotta Have Heart

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On Wednesday evening I was typing reports in Starbucks. There’s nothing better than having my paperwork spread out all over the table and a drink right next to me. A refill is just steps away.

Every once in a while someone will ask me a question about police work. I don’t mind answering their questions because they get to see me as a real person sitting in Starbucks just like them.

This young guy in his early twenties walked up to me and asked, “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“What’s the difference between a reserve officer and a full time officer?”

I told him the difference and I asked him why he wanted to know.

“I was thinking about being a reserve officer. I figured it was a good way to get my foot in the door,” he said.
“Why don’t you put your foot all the way through the door and try to become a fulltime officer?”
“I was in the process with Anaheim and Costa Mesa, but I pulled out.”
“Why?”
“I got this real estate job and I wanted to try it out. Maybe I’ll do both.”

I got the impression his heart wasn’t into it. He said it like he was trying to decide if he should wear Nike or New Balance shoes. His answer was so casual it didn’t seem like he was that serious about it.

Anyone who has been through the hiring process, the academy, field officer training and then working the street, knows this isn’t the right frame of mind.

That’s when I said, “Either you want it or you don’t. This isn’t a job you try out to see if you like it.”

I wasn’t trying to be mean, but I think he needed to hear straight talk. I then went on.

“This is a rewarding job, but it has its moments. I couldn’t imagine doing anything else. You need to take a look in the mirror and decide how bad you want it. This job isn’t for everyone. Your heart has to be into it.”

He told me he understood and said he had been on some ride alongs. I told him about the different types of situations an officers faces and stressed to him how much responsibility went with the job.

That’s when the radio came to life about an injury collision involving a bicyclist and a truck. I told him good luck and I cleaned up my stuff.

A few minutes later, I was standing over a dead body in the street. The victim’s brains were all over the place.

I then thought back to the guy at Starbucks. I wondered how he would’ve reacted to seeing this.

I could tell he was young and maybe this wasn’t the job for him right now. I’ve spoken to other people his age that were so much more focused about where they were going in life and what they wanted to do. Maybe I was the fork in the road of life for him right now. Only time will tell.

Like I told him, this job isn’t for everyone. It takes a certain type of person to do it. Some people are just made for the job. For some, it’s a calling. It requires sacrifice and determination. I could go on and on, but there’s one thing in the world that’s the most important.

You gotta have heart.

DRE Training

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DRE training is a different world

Last night I went up to Fullerton PD to do more DRE evaluations for my certification. I only had two left out of the twelve. It was a good feeling to know I was almost done.

During the process I got to see some interesting people and some interesting choices of clothing. You never knew what was going to walk in.

The first person that came in was so high he couldn’t sit still. He was going a 1,000 miles per hour and every part of his body was either twitching or moving. He couldn’t keep his mouth shut even if he wanted to. His lips were also cracked like a dry lake bed in the desert.

During the evaluation I instructed him to tilt his head back, close his eyes and count thirty seconds with his hands at his sides. It took forever for him to acknowledge the instructions and to listen. When he finally started the test I couldn’t help but laugh.

He tilted his head back and closed his eyes to start, but then he did something I have never seen before.

He raised his hands and pointed his index fingers. He then moved his hands up and down like he was conducting an orchestra. His hands were moving so fast, I assumed his imaginary orchestra was playing just as fast.

At the same time he mumbled at lightning speed. Then the mumble turned into an opera singer performing in a different language. Except this opera signer was high on meth. He was exhausting to watch and keep controlled.

After I was done with #12, I went to get something to eat with two other officers. We were sitting in the restaurant when one of them asked me what it felt like to be done.

“If someone told me six months ago I’d be at this point, I would’ve said they were crazy,” I replied.

I still have a few steps to go before I get my certification, but it’s all down hill from here. I’ve learned a lot during the process and I was certainly taken out of my comfort zone. I was resistant at first, but I’m glad I took the class.

I’ve also grown as an officer.

I want to thank the people at Fullerton PD, who put this class on and who run the evaluations. Their department is a leader in this training and I commend the people who run this program.

Their people are passionate about this and all of our departments can learn from them when it comes to DRE training.

The Mormon Missionary

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The funny thing about work is you never know what you’re going to hear next. Every time I think I’ve heard it all, something else comes up.

Yesterday two Mormon missionaries were riding their bicycles as they approached a red light at an intersection. Two witnesses saw them ride through the red light and one of them was hit by a mini-van.

The injured rider had a helmet, but his head injury didn’t make sense to me. I didn’t understand how the back of his head got so bloody with the helmet on. I then found out he had the helmet, but he wasn’t wearing it. It was hanging from his handlebar at the time of the crash.

While the guy was in the ambulance I spoke with his bicycle riding partner. I gave him the report number and asked him if he had any questions.

That’s when he asked a question I have never been asked before while working.

“Have you ever thought about being  Mormon?”
“No.” I answered with a smile.
“Ok.”
“I once had a Book of Mormon though.”
“You did?” He asked with a surprised look.
“I was at a hotel in Provo (Utah) when someone gave it to me. I was thirteen at the time.”
“That wasn’t that long ago,” he said with a sly look.

Since I’m forty-four, the look on his face showed he was stretching the truth a bit. It still made me laugh though. What a salesmen!

Up until yesterday, I have never taken a collision report involving a Mormon missionary on a bicycle. I’ve also never taken a crash where the helmet was on the handlebars instead of on the rider’s head. Usually the rider isn’t wearing one at all.

And finally, I have never been asked if I thought about changing religions.

Even after taking 5,700 crashes, work still throws me a curve ball once in a while instead of the usual fastball down the middle.

That’s why I keep coming back. I want to see what’s going to happen next.

Peer Support Quotes

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When I started writing the Peer Support blog story, I had intentions of doing a follow up with quotes from other officers. The question I posed to them was, “What does peer support mean to you?”

Below are a few quotes from people who are part of Peer Support at my department.

“In law enforcement we sometimes put up emotional walls to deal with the stresses of our job. Peer support should make you realize you’re not alone behind those walls.”

“Peer support is a resource for emotional survival throughout your career in law enforcement. Someone that’s there to turn to for assistance with the difficulties we deal with at work and home.”

“Peer support to me is the equivalent to working out and eating right to keep a healthy body. We need to do the same and keep a healthy mind and soul.”

“Peer support is the one program specifically designed to take care of the emotional wellbeing of law enforcement. To me…it’s giving the strong and stoic permission to be human. Ultimately protecting our resilient warriors.”

Just a little something to think about in this crazy world we call police work.

Stay safe.