Law enforcement vs old school security guard vs modern private security.

3 different animalscwith very divergent edicts.
As well. Law enforcement varies greatly from lical to county to state to federal and the many itterations that offshoot from the main body.
For instance. Ive had, "detainement" from a state patrolmen that behaved with 1 demeanor. And stare fish & game in the same state that behaved wildly different. I will say this. The absolute most professional and de-esculatory interactions i have had in my lifetime have been with state patrol. The fish & game i was detained and questioned by wanted to write me a ticketvso bad i could smell ego wafting off his hair. He wasvthe opposite of deescalatiin. And i had 2 young sons with me. A loaded 45 in my shoulder holster. That dude was an idiot. I was completely legal on everything, and the guy was literally hiding in the bushes. Ive also been detained by forestry while cutting wood. Again. I was in full compliance. Detained for nearly losing daylight.
I was told to sit away from my vehicle. It was searched completely without any probable cause.
Im out in the wilderness mind you, alone. I Had that same 45 in the bed of my truck. It was confiscated and i was told it could be retrieved with proof of ownership. That dude too. Wantedcso badly to find anything he couldvto write me tgat ticket. Illegal harvesting of woodbin that state was treated like a dui. Common practice was your vehicle and all equipment would be impounded. Sold at auction with conviction.

Here in the valley? The city cops are mostly good guys. The sheriffs used to be. Not any more. The sheriffbdept keeps trying to triple its budget for new gear and swag. Im sure after 3 defeats in voting day. The recent uptick in aggrssive partolling is a directive from above. Pressure to find ticket revenue ive been pulled over for some laughable stuff. And the once friendly officers are now harsh pricks. Couer D'alene is a story on to itself. Suffice to say. They compare accurately to what you see from ICE on TV.
Idaho state patrol is also aggressive. They are well known for the tactic of pulling over out of state out of county plates. Detaining the driver and calling in a k9 unit to sniff the car perrimeter. Udaho us a zero legal reason for marijuana possession. But sits on the Border of oregon & washington have legalized recreational marijuana, mushrooms & Hash hish for any adult.
Idaho has a law that transportation ofbillegal drugs through the state, with conviction, is mandatory surrender of your vehicle and its contents. When washington went legal. There was a noticeable uptick in license plates to the east that hadnt legalized the ganja.

Now. Thats just a few anecdotal moments that have shaped my " public compliance".

My non law moment with law enforcement. Guys i have known personally. Cops ive sat next to in waiting room type scenarios. They are overwhelmingly suspicious, unfriendly. Tall ir short everything in between. They all wreaknof short man syndrom. One of my brothers is very short. I know the symptoms well.
Its like the old story. Udiit climbs the fence at the zoo because he wants to pet the lion. He had eye contact with the liin. Felt an emotional connection and was sure the likn was friendly but lonely. The lion attacks the man once there are no longer bars that separate. The lion is deemed dangerous andbthe debate goes from there.
Theres no debate in my opinion. The lion was just doing what came natural. The many years had taught him. Man in cage means one of 2 things. Food or cleanup. He dont have a shovel. Must be food. Short guy syndrom is the same thing. The many years have taught the short man. Pounce 1st vs the bigger guy. Taking him by surprise before im overwhelmed by size. Now. If all people were altruistic friendly. The shortman/cop wouldnt have learned to take the offensive. Unfortunately. Really good criminals. They are known to use a friendly approach to gain an advantage. So. Im an idiot 1st & foremost. For most of my life. Minnesota nice, alaska nice. California of the 70's nice. All great for a gregarious charitable and friendly guy. It took me way to long to realize. Post 911? I think that has evaporated.

Shlt like always I digress. I had a brother in law that was a cop. Suspicious prick wife beater. Loved to. Got off on intimidating stangers. Friends & family too. Frank wound up a big bulbous red nose alcoholic. Crooked theu & thru. I had a neighbor that was CIA. Really creepy suspicious demeanor. I had a Neighbir in Alaska. A retired 2 star nato general. He was ok i guess but not a chit chat, mow the 8 inches of my lawn parallel to the edge of his type guy. He had applied for some job that required a security upgrade. 2 CIA agents came to my door. Interview the neighbors is part of the process. That cua pair. A professional but friendly female conducted the interview. Her partner? The dude was a giant of a man. He had the living room studied and assessed within minutes. Like the general. The man avoided direct eye contact. Studied everything with sideways eyes. As I answered the ladys questions. At one point i felt the mans stare. I glanced at him. His diverted hie eyes away quick. But just as quick returned to look if i was still watching him. Iur eyes locked for a minute. Were sitting 2 - 3 feet apart. A coffee table separating us. When ourveyes locked that dudes eyes instantly dialated. Continued to dialate until his eyes looked black instead of the brown they were. I tell you. The chill up my spine was instant. Now that our eyes were locked. He was not about to look away. Only once I smiled and relaxed back in my chair did he look away.

I told that gal during the interview. My neighbor "Mac" he liked to be called. Was a really good neighbor. Didnt bring up some of the bs i had dedlt with or overheard over the fence.
In truth. Mac was a drunk & an ass. His wife a pretentious arrogant white priviledge condescending cont. She nearly had her face biten off by one of their friends Great Danes when she grabbed the massive dog by the ears and trued baby talking the dog for show. They sued their "friend" and demanded the dog be put down.

One of my wifes friends Micky. Her husband was a prison guard. That guy got his 15 minutes of fame when he discovered one if the prisoners had a cat with 3 nursing kittens hidden in his cell. He 1st beat momma cat to death with his flashlight. Then the 3 kittens. Then started in on the prisoner before other guards arrived & restrained him.

I think thats the thing i see in most cops. Arrogance, privilege. License to do harm w/o accountability... And enjoying the power of it all. Be it financialnor physical harm.

On the other hand. I worked at a grocery store one fall & winter. It was a high crime location in a bad neighborhood. A massive Section 8 housing project as its next door neighbor.
The store chain employed brinks security while I worked there. They worked in pairs. One inside. One on the outdoor curb sidewalk. Every one of those guys were really friendly. Really well trained at diffusing confrontation. And there were many problems. Every time. Everything i witnessed. They couldnt be rattled. Calm. Confident, but kind and never arrogant. Even after altercations. They never showed any change in demeanor. They were like those guards out side the palace in england. The dudes in red suits & tall black hats. I remember this one guy. He wasnt much older than me. His name was Andy. He was also a youth minister at his church. Andy was the only guy that ever engaged in conversation.
Andy told me their "secret". Their directive was to never engage in violence. Had police frequency radios and were told to call police immediately if there was suspected crime occuring. Butnonly after quietly and respectively informing the suspect to leave in peace now as the pilice were on the way. They were never to initiate physical contact. And to back away when attack from a criminal suspect was deemed iminent. The inside guard being the key. The radio clipped on the outside mans vest, was voice activated to the inside mans ear piece.

I never saw one of those brinks giards get injured. Only a couple times did i witness police actually summoned. Before brinks was hired. There had been a few incidents where employees had taken quite a beating. I didnt work there very long. Found a different job. I have no clue if the brinks guards as deterrent had stopped the losses the store had experienced. The "legend" I heard. The from the project scam. A pair of women would go in as shoppers. Load the carts up with meat & liquor, return to checkstand area. Add tobacco products. then off to the side of the store near the entrance and loiter at the magazine rack. 2 big men would enter. Grab the carts. Run with the carts back out the exit to the 3 foot brick wall that separated project from parking lot. 4 more men were waiting on each side of the wall. They lifted the carts over the wall and poof. Fool proof crime.
The local police had a standing policy to never enter the project grounds with out a swat team leading the way. Any time of day. Ambulance & fire dept had the same instructions. That was at a Luckys market in Fairfield ca. The supporting city for Travis AFB. Idk? Circa 1981? 82?

Perhaps im just jaded schlepp. I remember when i was 13 or 14. There was an arcade us young delinquents hung out at. It had a reputation. Cops cruised by often. It was the place to go when we kids wanted to hook up some weed. A few pills. Go hang in after we got drunk/ high in the park. Employees owners mostly looked the other way. I hung in the neighborhood. Edge of main street with a big city park abutting the arcade parking lot. It was juvenile deliquent paradise in my earlybteens. And i fit the desription. Put a lot of quarters in that juke box baby!

Well, one night. An older kid. Keith??? Cant remember his surname. He was a local tough. Big, strong, quick tempered. Kind of a local hero amongst us delinquents. Much respected anyway. Popular and handsome for the girlies. 16. He wore the chain walket back pocket thing. Never bullied ir picked fights. But also never backed down and never list a fist fight. Younknow. The role model a dip shit delinquents aspires to be. * Sigh*.
Well... One friday night. Keith showed up at the arcade. Went to the back of the arcade. As he passed me. He nodded his head in that tilting way you summon a friend to follow. Keith always had shown me some favoritism. I kept my mouth shot. Didnt gossip. I was dependable... Perhaps maybe i sold a pill or 2 for him. Perhaps we may have double dated a time or 2... I was tall. Handsome. I may have been 14. I passed easily for 17 or 18. Had pilfered my brother expire DL one day when i noticed it in the bathroom trash. At 14. I had fake id that stated i was 21. So the fact i could buy booze made me a minor celebrity... Anyway i went back to the mens room, keiths "office".
He tells me. Who's around with a car. I need a ride fast out to allendale. (Small outskirt of town collection of ranchettes with a pistnoffice & general store, and the "Allendale outlaws" i guess it was a gang? We didnt thinknor talk in those terms back then. The allendale outlaws were just a bunch of dudes. Mostly dropouts. Worked on the family ranchettes. And may have run the local importing sale of contraband controlled substance. Guys like keith & I that never grew out of it. Regular visitors to county jail and defenders of the cowboy outlaw way.
I knew exactly why keith needed a ride & fast. He & his older brother, One of the allendale fellers. They had burglarized a pharmacy the police investigation had, it was rumored. Discovered evidence that Keith was a participant. A warrant had been issued.

So... Good ol loyal "wanna be" me. I leave Jeith in his office. Go outbinto the arcade looking for a face i knew that had a car. Nope. Not this night. There was a phone booth outside the arcade on the sidewalk. Not 5 feet from the glass door entrance. I went outside after gathering some dimes at the cashier. Began to make phone calls.
I may have been 14. My crowd. My friends mostly 16-20. But it was friday night. Finding someone at home was going to be challenging. As im dialing. Getting consecutive long ring no answer.
Aling down the sidewalk comes a pair of cops. I knew them both on sight. Big cops. Tough cops. Horst & Davis. They too carried a reputation. It was- bring an army if you wanna fk around. Before I could do shit. Get ahead of them they were at thecdoor if the arcade and going in. As they walked in. Their flashlight came out of the holsters. I walked slowly to the door & peered in. Horst was thumping his 4dcell police flashlight into the palm if his left hand. Both were walking slowly. Looking about the brightly lit arcade. I assumed scanning for the long curly top blond head of keith. Keith was tall. 6-3 maybe. Had been bucking hay, branding cows and breaking horses since he was 9 or 10. Tall, thick Muscular. I was tall & skinny. Probably 110 lbs back then. Id imagine keith outweighed me 2 to 1.
I considered keith a pal.

I knew keith was in the bathroom. I knew a surprise was slowly walking his way. And i also knew. When Horst & Davis found him. It wasnt going to be handshakes & backslaps. Keith was a tough. He had spent his time in Fouts Boys camp. One of the gladiator academys californis was known for back then. Fours was reputedly one of the worst. Reform school by name.

Back then. Juveniles werent tried as adults. Not in California. And after 1 or 2 stays in the more civilized county " juvie". A habitual offender was promoted into the state system. Only the worst would continue climbing the ladder to the ultimate destination. Fours boys camp. A racially diverse max security prison for violent offender juveniles. Amongst criminal element. Having one visit to fouts was a badge in honor. Having multiple stays on that resume like Keith did?
The dude was a criminal rock star. I kid you not. Keith was respected and trusted by the vacaville chapter of Hells Angels. Most of which had survived korea, Nam and likely also had san Quentin on their resume. Yeah. Keith wasnt going easy.

As i watched the pair of large men clad in blue walk down the long runway. Past the coin games up front. Past the cashier/ snack bar at the center. Enter the pool table room that required a certain reputation to enter & play pool on weekend nights... I began to sweat. I was one of the few that new confrontation was iminent.... It was tense. Felt like thise cops took 20 minutes to walk the 50 yards back to the opening in the wall at the right. Through that opening. A doorway with no door. A perpendicular hallway. Another right was the ladiers room. Turn left? Keith office. I watched as the cops slowly sauntered into the hallway. One shoulder remained at the doorless entry. Thebither man went fullynout of sight.

In the arcade. The juke box was playing always loud. I still remember the song. " The Who"...
Mommas got a squeeze box she wears on her chest,
And when daddy comes home he'll get no rest...

The music is loud. Im still peering through the glass door.... And out of nowhere. I hear a really bad ass biker, Steve Uhazie deep voice bellow like a pa system at a game..." KEEEEITH! COPSSSSS! Uhazies voice broke the spell. I think i stumbled backwards.... I ran through that door. I began screaming NO! STOP... STOP!!! As i approached the snack bar. Out from behind the false wall that separated the pool room, stepped the 40ish fat man we all knew as Richard. The loser snarky ####er that tolerated all of us degenerate punks. More on Richard later.
Richard grabs me. Dude was tall & fat. Stronger with hus bear hug than i imagined. Richard was 350- 400 lbs and around 6-6. He spike to me quietly. " Stay out of it boy while you still can"... He muscled back towards the wall and the swinging half door entrace to his work station. I was 6 inches off the floor & pinned to the wall with one of Richards juggling fat arms. In the moment i was absolutely shocked by the lazy fat lisers swift smoothness & strength. To this day. I do not remember being sidelined with such ease & expertise.

As my shock began to disperse. A rolling pile of arms legs and swinging flashlights cascades out of the doorless entry. The melee i feared was in full crescendo. The pool room is full of bikers & biker chicks. Most likely on probation. Theyve gathered around but are staying bout if it. Keith is dishing it out like the taz devil. But hes taking far worse. The juke bix has run out of quarters. The back room of the arcade is filled with the sound of keith screaming obscenities. Sgt horst yelling back, atta boy keep adding charges. And in between the sickening thuds of thick steel flashlight hitting bone. Davis finally manages to get one of keiths wrists cuffed and struggles to get the second for what feels like 10 minutes. Finally hes cuffed. Horst kneels on keiths neck and Davis cuffs the ankles. In one acrobatic move of stength. Horst stands tall and yanks keith to his feet by those long curly blond locks. Jeith is only slightly bloodied up. His shirt is torn. The neck cuff of his shirt hanging behind him, down his backnin a long string. Keith remains a struggling animal. Unwilling to accept defeat. Acknowledge the idea the steel cuffs are unbreakable. A cop on each elbow. Hes half dragged half stumbled towards the front door. As the group goes by. I hear the officers breathing heavy. As the group nears the door. The juke box accepts a quarter. The old bikers mingle their way back to their tables. Some conversation begins i hear one of the women cackle out a laugh as she says, "thats one hard ass tough mutha####in boy" a pool ball clacks another. It felt like an hour. Itcwas probably 5 or 6 minutes. And the show inside is over. Richards grip relaxes. As i begin to slude down the wall, I yank free and jog towards the door. Its just now almost fully closed. I have stumble out the door. 3 or 4 kids closer to my age, are standing and watching. Keeping their distance.

As tough as we punka believe ourselves to be. We are dumb struck in shock in our silence... As i exit fully & gain my wits. I realize. Keith is still trying to do damage swearing like a derranged heathen. Trying to head butt horst. He keeps missing. Finally in a oje from horst and a shove. Keith does a nose first literal face plant... " Oooh" arises in unison from us punka.
Davis begins reading miranda while hirst call for a car to pick them up. A few more kids straggle outside to see the aftermath. Theres 6 or 7 of us now a couple leaning at the wall onemleaning sude into parking sign at the curb. A girl at the phone booth. Im the only idiot stupid enough to creep closer. I try to speak to keith softly. Try and get him to calm himself. " #### you neegree" blurts out. I hear horst suddenly laugh. " Oh really, we got a lil neegree coming up in the ranks. Lucky me. Your brothers know me well. I hope you get smart fast little boy or keith here. You'll be him in a year or 2." Keith tells Horst to f off. And manages the leveragevto swing his chained legs. Trip Horst and tumble the big man to the ground. Horst gets up. No longer laughing. Kicks keith solid in the ear as he yells. So cliche- " ok punk, you want more, cmon steve. Lets learn him up" chained up solid. The 2 tajevturns. Kicking, punching. A Beating like i never again witnessed until MMA became a thing. The blood is flowing now. Keith tries to roll over to get face down. His wrists now exposed. Davis raises his leg and stomps down. The crack is loud. Broken im sure. Horst rolls him back to face up. They go back to the teeth, the nose. Finally. After who knows how many minutes and a blood spatter to inspire jackson pollock. Keith goes limp. Quiet. Idk? Unconscious? Not dead. I see his chest rising & falling. Davis turns stares at me. Right in the eye. " How old are you kid." 14 i reply. "Is keith your buddy?" Yes.
"Let him go boy. Hes going away for a long stay,. Keith turned 17 last month. Robbed that pharmacy of federal controlled substance. Thats the feds. No jovenilenprotection and anotherbpointless stint at Fouts. You buddy has graduated. Hes big time now". Horst saunters over.
" Hes right little neegree. Clean your act up punk." I interupt- stuttering. Thats police brutality, you did t have to break his wrist. You didnt have to beatvthe shot out of him..." Horst interupts me. Youre right he was subdued. But he gave me the right to knock him onconscious when he kicked me to the ground while restrained. Punks. You"ll never realize. This is law & order in action. Go easy or go hard. Either way. We dont care. Davis walk back in close. Smiles at me. We get paid to inflict pain on those that beg for more. I walk away. Over to the wall i slude down on to my butt. Sit there. Thinking. Mad. Sad. Shocked. Confused by it all. None of it makes sense in my 14 year old brain... Idk how much time has elapsed. Im feeling tired. Im out of thoughts. Just tired. Knees drawn up. Arms folded across. Head down into the hollow it creates. It summer in cali. Its a warm night. The girl on the phone comes over. Slumps dont next to me. Outs her arm around me. I glance sudeways at her. I recognize her cute blond face. Cant put a name to it. I look back down. We sit there silently. I like her warm body heat into my side. I start thinking of her. More time ellapses. I hear Davis on his radio. "Hey, wheres our car. Oh .... Really. Ok thanks. Turning to his parner, its coming now. Friday night. The kiddies are restless. The only now got a free car. A few minutes later i hear a whoop whoop at the corner. I glance up in time to see the car. Lights on top flashing red coast through the 4 way stop a block down on main street. I nudge the girl. Whisper in her ear. " Wanna get high?" She looks up smilling & nodding. We get on our feet. I turn & look at keith being manhandled into the car. Davis glances back at us as he shuts the doir on keith. Taps the roof twice. Have hollers back at us. " You 2 behave. Well be walking main street all night looking forvyou kids to slip up. The 2 cops walk back in to the arcade. I ask the girl. " Whats your name?" Doris. " Hiya Doris, Im danny".
I know... We saunter off into andrews park. As we fade into the shadows. Her hand slides down. Finds mine. I think to myself. it sure is a warm night. It suddenly dawns on me. Shit. I have a bottle of pills to sell for keith. A big bag of weed he gave me to roll up & sell. Had those cops checked. Id be off to juvie instead of hand & hand with Doris. Holy shit I think. Am i really lucky or really stupid... I stop walking. We reached an oak tree on the fringe of andrews park. I tug on doris's arm to stop. She turns to face me. Youre cute i say. How old are you. 13 comes the reply. Ive thought you were cute since i was a kid.

I know this story so well because i re-live the entire keith part ofbthe story i periodically in my dreams. It draws out the memory of the night I met Doris. We were friends through high school. Blond haired blue eyed and always sweet with me.
Inhave many other dreams of Doris.

Keith? Those cops were right. He went away long time. Bc of his juvenile record. Ibheard he got 10 -:15 with the feds.

Richard it turns out. Was a parolled felon the cops convinced to work the arcade. Infirm on the side. That rumor was wild fire and Richard too disappeared shortly after that night. Rumors of where why swirled. Some said the Brooks bar bikers. A bar 2 blocks away from the arcade. That thise bikers disappeared Richard. I knew some if those guys through my brother. My brother rold me. Richard was just moved to another city. Parollees are never set free my brother once told me. Not once the cops flip em. They instead become part of the system that investigates & finds crime/ criminals. 10 years parole means they own you for 10 years. Usually tho. They find away to violate you back in. That resets your time back to 10 years. They offer up parole for another 10 in exchange for suspended sentence.
What a grift!

Horst & davis? Davis made detective. He was younger than horst. Officer horst pulled me over every time he saw my car once I had one. If i broke a law. He wrote me a ticket. Never a break.
I did gave a few minor illegal moments after my time ended as a keith protege. But nothing serious. Another cop set me straight for good tho. Back in the winter before my summer time 18th b-day. A black juvenile parole officer named Sharon Wilkerson. She set me straight with kindness. Empathy & understanding. Boy was i ever a really lucky lil punk. Officer Wilkerson charmed the idiot out of me.

There is a point in this story.
For sure Keith was no angel. Thebentire allendale outlaw crew were some real shits. My brother became part of that "gang" as the racial tensions rose and began to teeter upin war in Solano county. The allendale outlaws reorganized. Became a chapter of the KKK. My short brother theur treasurer. Man he was proud of that. I was ashamed of him. Wanted no part of the ignorant punka i had grown up with that loved that we had a klan chapter in town. It wasnt long after that i fled to alaska. Not bc i had done anything. No. It was i was unwillingbto participate in such nonsense. Didnt want my children raised with that racist influence hovering an uncle away

And cops? Thats the underlying message officer davis imprinted on my memory. Thatvtge only difference was. If you want to be a criminal. Do it the legal way. Become a cop.
I know thats jaded. I really do. But. Ya cant unsee what you see. Not ever needing one or knowing one. Not having interaction with one.
Its been one of my top goals since detective Wilkerson gave me the facts. That theres no shortage if cops as untrustworthy as the criminal they chase. Its why she became a juvenile po. To try and stop kids on the edge. Once enabared in the adult criminal system. You never get out. And once you become a cop. Youre forced to think as a criminal. It becomes part of a cops identity and difficult to separate. She had become a cop in san leandro. Change the world by upholding the law. She was promoted to lieutenant until she was part of a corruption investigation there. She was privy to the facts, and the.... " Justice".
Shortly after she quit, moved and focused on at risk kids. She woul never quite tell me everything. Many hints. Many think for yourself type answers. And planted the idea. Honesty and justice has no place in enforcing the law.
That they law itself is corrupt. Fly straight she liked to say. Turn the cheek & walk away. Work for your money. Short cuts always have a catch that just might catch you. Once caught in it? The law will never let you go. You have to buy your way out, and even then. If the law can find a crease. It'll slip in and demand more.