A Brief Interlude of Meaningful Dialogue

My direct communication with Sergeant Ritchie began on December 19, 2008, when he sent an e-mail saying he was willing to engage me in dialogue. It was apparent from his response that he had perused my blog a bit, mentioning one older post specifically. Sergeant Ritchie also laid out some basic rules for our dialogue, including that I not make reckless comments such as accusing his officers of running drugs here, and that I not post his private comments on my blog. He went on to tell me about his background in law enforcement and a bit about his own personal approach to policing and supervising other officers. My first impression was that he was a sincere person, so I replied a couple days later by stating that I was willing to accept his terms.

To a large degree, our communications entailed each of us elaborating a bit on things that the other already knew about. I will not go into the details of what he had to say on these matters, but for my part, an example would be of the day that I called the front desk to report an open door in my neighborhood. Even though I was in a hurry to leave town that day, I waited until the officers arrived so that I could speak with them. The problem though is that the officers on the street are often very hard to read. Usually they give little feedback and frequently fail to even acknowledge that they are hearing what you are saying. I know this is not actually the case much of the time, but there have been other times when it appears that they didn’t even hear what was said to them.

In one of my letters to Sergeant Ritchie, I began by giving him the incident report number for the open door call, so he would know what I was referring to. I went on to tell him that it appears as though this unoccupied house was attracting the attention of the local drug dealers, as several neighbors had reported to me that they had seen drug activity there before and that the house had been broken into on previous occasions. I also made note of the graffiti slogan which was painted on the house next to this one. I had seen this same sign on another empty house nearby as well as on the sidewalk in front of my home. I hoped that alerting him to the new insignia and the places it was located might give him some useful information on the shifting dynamics of the local gang situation in my neighborhood.

From the beginning, all I have wanted here was to have a functional relationship between myself and the officers who patrol my neighborhood. By the end of 2006, I had come to the conclusion that not only was the Command Staff not willing to assist in this endeavor, but at least one member seemed to actually be putting up obstacles to thwart it. I have always felt that if I could have direct discussions with the patrol officers and perhaps their immediate supervisors, then they would quickly realize that I am on their side. It seemed to me that with Ritchie’s position as a Sergeant who frequently patrolled my neighborhood, he might be the person to finally help me to establish meaningful communication.

If you look at my blog, you will notice a distinct change in the way I posted after Sergeant Ritchie and I began our dialogue. From February 7 (when I started the blog) until December 14, I had one hundred and twelve posts. But from December 22 until June 10, I only had seven posts, and four of these had absolutely nothing to do with my neighborhood or the police. So I went from eleven posts per month bitching about my neighborhood to about one post every other month. I had all but given up on my blog at this point, and this was a conscious decision that was made because I felt my direct communication with Sergeant Ritchie would be far more beneficial than my public complaints.

But there were a couple reasons why I still wasn’t ready to give up the blog totally. First of all, I have mentioned before that I have been through many cycles of high and low drug activity in my neighborhood. And I have seen similar cycles in the way the police deal with the problem. A few months of calm was just not enough to convince me that the problems of the past thirteen years had finally come to an end. In the absence of a functional local news media (with a few notable exceptions), this blog was my only voice. It was the only means I had to ensure that if the drug dealers and the police went back to their old habits someone might hear my pleas for help.

I also needed Sergeant Ritchie to hear what (in my opinion) were some of the past mistakes that were made by the officers here. From the beginning, Sergeant Ritchie made it clear that he would not be discussing with me the relationship between himself and his command staff. And I accepted that. Even with as much anger as I still have towards the past misdeeds of some members of this group, I always try to stay more focused on the future. Having direct communication with an officer who both gave a damn and was in a position to influence at least a few other officers was enough to trade in my grudge for.

I made no complaints to him about his superiors, and I characterized the past efforts of some of the lower ranking officers as misunderstandings rather than mistakes. I told him that I was certain if we sat down together for a conversation that two things would result from it. First, I thought he would probably laugh when I told him how some of the officers were perceived here, knowing how far from the truth this assessment really was. I was also certain that after listening to his response, I would view each of these officers in a far less unfriendly manner. But I added that I thought it was extremely important that someone on his side of the fence to understand these perceptions, as countering them would allow the police to more effectively do their job.

I was almost ready to stand down and end my public diatribe. All I needed was an assurance that I would be listened to. Unfortunately, although I did speak with Ritchie one afternoon for a few minutes while he was on patrol, we never did get the chance to have that meaningful conversation. And it appears now that we probably never will. And that, the manner in which our dialogue came to an end and the reasons for it, will be the subject of my next post.