The document describes a night ride-along with police officers responding to multiple alcohol-related incidents. It discusses calls involving a drunk driver, an intoxicated man asleep in his car, and a traffic stop where the driver had a handgun in the vehicle. Later, officers responded to a disturbance on the street involving an intoxicated group of people where a young man was injured. The crowd became angry and officers struggled to contain the situation as tensions escalated. Ultimately, the police were able to diffuse the situation and make arrests while avoiding further escalation, illustrating the complex role of law enforcement in managing public safety.

1. Behind the Thin Blue Line
square. Leffler inventoried the vehi-
cle before the tow truck took it away,
and as I watched him pull open the
door, we were both hit by the smell
of alcohol pouring invisibly out of
the SUV.
There was a domestic dispute
call that also looked like it involved
alcohol, as the man on the front lawn
could barely stand. There were two
other cars on the scene, and after
checking with the officers, we went
on our way. Another call came in
about a man seemingly asleep behind
the wheel of a parked car, and we
drove up in time to see one of the
patrol officers stepping back from the
man as he bent over and lost his din-
ner. “At least he had the good sense to
not start his car,” said Leffler, after he
confirmed the officer didn’t need his
help and we moved on.
The dispatcher called us to
back up one of the officers who had
stopped a car with a handgun in it.
Protocol requires backup in such
cases, even for licensed guns. As
the officer put the driver through a
sobriety field test, Leffler removed
the handgun from the car. “There’s
a passenger,” he told me, so they
couldn’t leave the gun in the car in
that case. It occurred to me that
much of police protocol was based
in the common sense adage, better
safe than sorry.
And then it was after 3 a.m. and
we were being called, along with an
ambulance, onto Caroline Street.
Leffler was assessing the situa-
tion well before he stopped the vehi-
cle, and he decided he could allow
me to get out. There was a crowd of
about 30 people on the south side of
the street, and a few onlookers on
the north side, where I first went to
find out what was going on.
The temperature had dropped
considerably, and angry voices
bounced like a thousand ping pongs
through the cold night air, mingled
with the lower but firm responses of
the officers.
“He’s bleeding, can’t you see he’s
bleeding?”
“You get your hands off me –
don’t you tell me what to do!”
“Ma’am, I need you to stand
back.”
I counted five police offi-
cers, including Leffler, and two first
responders from the ambulance that
had arrived. The officers were try-
ing to separate the crowd, asking the
onlookers to disburse so they could
gettotheheartoftheproblem,which
appeared to be a group of women of
various ages who were angry about
the treatment of a young man who
was sitting on the steps of a vestibule
holding his head. He appeared to be
okay except for something on his
head that I couldn’t see because his
hand was over it.
The onlookers on the north
side of the street told me they hadn’t
seen a thing, so I moved back across
the street to see and hear better. The
young man was taken to the back of
the ambulance and when next I saw
him, he was holding a square white
bandage to his head and yelling at
the EMT who had a clipboard, “I’m
only 17. I’m not signing nothing!”
The group looked like family
and friends dressed to celebrate
something, and the party got out
of hand. One of the bouncers
at a nearby bar told me that the
group had tried to get into one of
the bars and the bouncer refused
to let the young man in, and got
punched in the face for his trou-
ble. Another bouncer pulled
the kid off the first bouncer, and
somehow the youth ended up on
the ground. It wasn’t clear if he
was pushed, thrown, or fell, but
he hit his head on the way down.
The crowd had grown as people
were leaving the bars either to find
outwhatwasgoingonortoendtheir
evenings. I was shivering and had to
putmyglovesontokeepwriting,but
the crowd didn’t seem to notice the
cold. Men and women with varying
degrees of delight or disgust on their
faces passed by, watching as the offi-
cers continued to move the original
party further down the street away
from the spectators, who weren’t
making things any easier for them.
One sandy-blonde haired man
of about 30 years old was practi-
cally skipping through the crowd,
laughing and shouting something in
slurred words with his arms out for
balance, weaving in and out among
the onlookers and the angry par-
tiers. I could see the officers looking
at each other to see who could get a
handle on this guy, but there wasn’t
one to spare – they each had their
hands full with an angry person in
their faces, refusing to go home or
calmly explain what happened.
Another onlooker, who smelled
strongly of stale beer, began jeering
and chanting at the top of his voice.
The way the sound bounced between
the buildings on the narrow street,
I’m not sure people could really
hear him above all the other voices
crowding the night, but it suddenly
occurred to me that there were not
enough police officers to handle all
these people if things did get ugly by
something like the incendiary words
this drunk was throwing. Looking at
the officers’ faces again, it was clear
they knew that, too, and I could see
all their energies were concentrated
on keeping the crowd calm.
The scene appeared to be a les-
son in the consequences of too much
to drink. Caroline Street at 4 in the
morningwasfilledwithpeoplestum-
bling, designated drivers supporting
them out the doors, bouncers stand-
ingfirmlywiththeirarmscrossedbut
ready, people shouting for cabs that
couldn’t get through because of the
police cars and ambulance, and the
original group of about seven or eight
women who would not disburse after
the officers arrested and took away
their young suspect.
I glanced down at my notes for a
second and looked back up to see an
officer had pinned one of the women
against the trunk of a police vehicle,
having cuffed one hand and was try-
ing to cuff the other. She was yelling
andfightingwithallherstrength,and
ittookthreeofficerstoholdherdown
and get her cuffed.
The bouncer near me said the
officer who had initially tried to
handcuff her had the patience of a
saint. It was hard to see much beyond
theirshadowedformswiththebright,
flashing police lights behind them,
but it looked to me like they were just
trying to hold her still to get the cuffs
on, but she used her whole body to
fight them off. It was a far cry from
the drunk driver earlier who ruefully
smiled and gave himself up easily.
I would later speak with Police
Chief Gregory Veitch, who told me
that it was standard procedure to
hold an internal investigation with
every use of force to assure that those
incidents were being conducted
appropriately. “I’m very proud of the
officers and how we handle things,”
said Veitch. “They could lose their
tempers, and we train them not to.
I’m very proud at how well they han-
dle themselves in these situations.”
Once the cuffs finally fastened,
the middle-aged woman slipped
between the officers down to the
ground and huddled there, laying at
the edge of the cold sidewalk next
to the police car. At least four smart-
phones appeared in the crowd and
began shooting video. The officers
tried to help her to her feet, but she
refused, saying she couldn’t breathe
and had asthma. They immediately
signaledfortheEMTstostepforward
andtheambulancerolledupcloserso
she could be placed in a stretcher and
taken to the hospital.
The street began to clear,
then. It was as if it were the end of
a movie, with all the tension sud-
denly drained as people walked
away in different directions,
chatting about what they’d seen.
I was so cold my teeth were chat-
tering, but I didn’t want to get
back in the car just yet. Caroline
Street had changed. Officers were
getting into their cars or usher-
ing onlookers on their way, bars
were shutting doors and locking
up, and the noise and smell were
beginning to fade in the pre-
dawn. This was the street that
hours earlier was filled with peo-
ple taking a break from everyday
life to enjoy each other’s com-
pany, the same street that became
a tinderbox waiting for a match
by 4 a.m., a match that never lit
because of a thin blue line.
10 NEWS Week of March 11 – March 17, 2016
Continued from page 7.
Aaron Deuel and Aneisha Liska
are part of the small team of local
dispatchers that route and research
911 and other calls. Photo provided.