I was hired by Prineville Police Department as a patrol officer. The first shift was October 21, 1971. I had no prior police experience. I had no education concerning law enforcement. You might say I was a desert ranch boy who was hired as a cop. The city was populated by about 4500 people. The population consisted of ranchers, cowboys, farmers and loggers with a few other sorts thrown in.

There were 5 patrolmen and a janitor jailer. The city police were responsible for the county jail. When the janitor jailer was off duty the patrol personnel had to do hourly jail checks. That meant checking each inmate and seeing skin and breathing. Night shift patrol also had to feed the inmates breakfast.

My first night, it was actually my first shift, as a police officer I was assigned to an experienced patrolman . He had worked three to five years for Prineville Police Department. I think he was suppose to show me the ropes. We were downtown walking in and out of bars, doing bar checks. I later learned the checks were to look for visibly intoxicated persons within the bars and to check with the bar tenders for trouble makers in the bar, or in town. I was impressed at all of the people packed into the bars with low lights and lots of smoke. Heck it was so dark no one could tell what they were drinking or whose drink they had.

Walking back to the station we found a cowboy sitting in some shrubs. What I didn’t know was he was violating the drunk in public law and we were suppose to arrest him and haul him to jail and keep him there until he was sober. Seems as though the experienced officer didn’t like the guy and was afraid of a confrontation. The officer agitated the drunk and turned to walk away. The drunk grabbed his belt from around his waist and swung the buckle at the officers head. Dumb me, I reached out and deflected the buckle and ended up with a split thumb. I pushed the drunk down, and not knowing what else to do, told him to stay there, which he did. The officer asked me why I had knocked the cowboy down. When I told him about the buckle he said we should go back to the station because things were getting out of control. I should have arrested the drunk for numerous things, and lodged him, but I didn’t know about such things and I didn’t know how to make my handcuffs work. I mentioned the incident to the sergeant later that night and I no longer worked with that patrolman for about a year.

About two or three years later I was riding with the same officer when we spotted an obviously drunk driver. I made a traffic stop and a burly guy out of his car. I gave him sobriety tests, which he failed miserably. I arrested him for DUII. He said something about no rookie was taking him to jail. That statement was one I heard a lot for about ten years. I got out my tear gas canister and decided I might as well spray the drunk and hinder his vision before I got taken to the cleaners. He was real big and mean looking.

He looked at me and my can of tear gas and grabbed his belly and began crying. He begged me not to spray him and asked if he could just go to jail. I was amazed at how quickly things had changed. I figured the other patrol officer must be pointing a gun at his belly. I handcuffed the guy and put him in the patrol car and started looking for the other officer. He was no where to be found. I got in the patrol car and radioed the station and told them the other officer must be in trouble because he was gone. I was informed he was alright, he had just walked in the front door of the station and was having some coffee.

I went to the station and made subtle threats to the other officer about walking away. He informed me that he thought I was going to get my ass kicked because the bad guy had done several years in jail for murder. Since he didn’t want to get hurt he just walked to the station. My hope was that this officer would get into a scrape and need assistance. I was going to go and watch him get his come upins, and arrest the winner. However, it never happened.

About the bad guy. About four years prior to my arresting him for DUII he had murdered a guy and had fled to a local bar for a drink. The cops learned where he was and surrounded the bar and finally cornered him inside. He backed between two counters and prepared to do battle. One officer sprayed his eyes with tear gas and the other one kicked him in the solar plexus. The kick was with pointed cowboy boots. It took the poor drunk to his knees. No air, terrible pain and his eyes sort of burned. He thought the tear gas had caused his belly to hurt and no one told him any difference. It sure did help me out.

At the end of my first shifts eight hours I expected my shift to be over. Nope, we worked 10 hour shifts. No one had bothered to tell me. Needless to say when I got home Becky was up and waiting. She was pretty worried.