I was constantly at war within myself. The conflicts did not come to an end until I took a good and honest look at the man in the mirror. My perception of law enforcement, and maybe my perception of myself, changed the longer I walked the streets in Western. It became a psychological war again. What is right? What is wrong? What is ethical? What is not? What is legal? What is moral?
I knew other districts were not this bad. Yet, in a strange and addictive way, this was where I really wanted to be. Patrolling the streets, dark alleys and side streets of Pennsylvania and West North Avenues on night shift was like sitting under an old and rotting tree during a lightning storm. It was like waiting for the bolts of lightning to hit the tree and have it come crashing down on my head. The game was that I did not move from under the tree. I had power over life and death especially mine.
It was always about the game. I did not really understand the rules until three years later when I was in organized crime and drug groups. See, you haven’t really experienced life until you think you are going to die. That was the thrill of the game – life or death. It depended on who won, who had the most power. And even if you won, you still died a little more each time within your soul.
Russo continued to work his informants for drug locations. We never asked him how he got his information. We just hit the houses in the early morning hours.
One night, during an early morning raid, we hit a house just like we did so many times before. We knew the drill. We knew what we were assigned to do. And, we were good at what we did.
We broke down the front door and the rear door at exactly the same time, like clockwork, and rushed the house from both directions, quick, efficient, and effective. However, when we broke down the back door and rushed in we found a family having breakfast. The children screamed and cried. The adults were in shock and fear of a police assault. It was chaos.
After Sergeant Florey and Russo talked with the adults and showed them the search warrant, Florey and Russo realized they made a mistake. We raided the wrong house.
All I could do was just stand there and watch the children crying at the kitchen table as they sat in front of their bowls of cereal. I felt feelings of shame, guilt and sadness all together as we left. I thought about how I would have felt if this happened to me – the shock of uniformed police rushing into my home at five o’clock in the morning. Guns pointed at my head and my family. I would file charges and sue Anne Arundel County for this violation of privacy.
As we were leaving, we heard Sergeant Florey and Russo apologizing for the mistake. Russo was given either bad information or location, but the damage was done. The doors were smashed. This family would never forget the experience. However, there was no complaint filed. It was like it never happened. There was no police incident report. People were afraid of the police. That was our last raid.
I did not realize it at the time, but as May was coming to an end, so was my career with the Baltimore City Police Department. The morale in Western was bad. It reflected the general morale of the entire police department. Our squad became more tense. I felt the under current in the community as I walked my post. Negotiations between the police union and the city government were breaking down. Rumors of a possible police strike hung in the thick summer air. June was going to be a very hot month in many ways. Both tempers and temperatures elevated to the boiling point.
During the next couple weeks, a typical Friday night would consist of the usual round-ups and illegal jail incarcerations. There would be a small police instigated riot and a false call for a man with a gun at the Oxford Tavern made by me just for fun on a quiet Saturday afternoon. Life and law in the Wild West. It all depends on how you justify it. Right or wrong?
Chapter 6: THE WILD WEST
Baltimore City selectively enforced an ordinance in Western: No loitering within fifty feet of a bar or other establishment that sold alcohol. When we wanted to increase our arrest statistics for the month, this law was a legal shield to get the numbers up. However, it had to be done right. We could not just arrest someone because he or she was standing near the door. That would appear to be harassment.
While our union representatives were negotiating for bargaining rights, a decent pay wage and the right to have union representation, we wanted to show justification for our demands.
The summer heat of June was not only causing steam to rise from the city streets, it created a lot of fervor within many police officers. Tensions rose throughout the districts creating a perfect storm that was building in strength toward a civil war within the ranks of the department.
On one seemingly quiet Saturday afternoon, a couple sector patrol cops decided to enforce the No Loitering law. However, to be fair and play by the rules of the game, the target was given proper notice of the violation and an opportunity to move from the establishment within a reasonable amount of time.
Most intersections had regulated crosswalk signals allowing pedestrians to safely cross the street. These cops selected a bar near one of the busy intersections near Pennsylvania and West North Avenues.
The situation began routinely enough. A young man walked out of the establishment and stopped for a brief moment to talk with another person. As the curtain of this drama rose on my post, I stood nearby to observe the situation. I knew what was going to happen. Yet, I could not envision the small riot that was about to erupt. Tempers, temperatures and emotions have a tendency to flare up at a lower boiling point in the heat.
Two police officers from the patrol car stopped in front of the bar, got out of their vehicle and approached the man before he could walk away. The game had begun.
“Don’t you see the sign on the wall?” One of the officers asked the man in a professional, but authoritative tone of voice. “Are you aware of the city ordinance about no loitering within fifty feet of an establishment that serves alcohol?”
“Yes, officer,” the man replied, respectfully.
“Then why are you standing here?” the officer asked. “You are violating the law.”
I had witnessed this scene before, but this time was different. Maybe my perception of what was happening was different that day. Maybe I was more concerned about the man and not about the black and white letters of the law.
I thought about how I would feel if I were the man being challenged by the police. After all, I was an alcoholic. I stood outside many bars for longer periods of time, drunk, and no police officer ever approached me, or confronted me. In fact, we did exactly what he was doing many times when we were off duty.
After acknowledging that he knew the law and apologized, with respect to the uniform, the man walked away. This began the systematic chain of events that escalated and intensified rapidly in a brief time.
As the young man stood at the intersection, he waited for the green light. When the signal changed to Walk, the man began to cross the street. Now one of the police officers stopped him and entered into a conversation. Eventually the signal changed to Do Not Walk.
When the police officer saw the signal change, he said, “You can go now.” The man began to cross the street without paying attention to the signal but listening to the police officer.
“Hey, you can’t cross now,” the officer yelled. “The signal says ‘Do No Walk.’ Can’t you read? You could be arrested for jaywalking. That’s illegal, you know.”
The man stepped back onto the sidewalk and waited for the light to turn green again. When he had the Walk signal, he began to cross the street.
Once again, the police officer stopped the man and began a meaningless conversation. Finally, when the signal changed to Do Not Walk again, the officer said he could go.
Again, the young man began to cross the street, unaware of the signal change. For a second time, the police officer yelled at him for crossing without paying attention to the signal. Now the man was becoming very agitated and slightly angry. Nevertheless, this was the intended purpose of