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So, what am I doing riding in a police car - I'm not a cop, and not even a cop wannabee, although with my "radio voice" I suppose I could make one sonorous dispatcher. It really is a simple answer - if you want to REALLY know what goes on in your town or city, do a ride-along with the local police. As Mayor of Wildwood, Missouri, I did this often, and Wildwood was a big place - 67 square miles, 32,800 citizens, two major state highways, and too many cul-de-sacs to impede cross circulation of emergency vehicles. Longboat Key is quite different, with only ten linear miles, no wider than one mile across at the "wide spot in the road", and perhaps only 6,000 active residents year round. But it has a state highway, and bad guys do drive that road.
I've done two ride-a-longs now, with "Cap'n Steve", a fellow Kiwanis member and commander of the night shift. He is also an instructor, and I feel like a rookie when riding along and observing, as the guy is always in teaching mode. The last time we were out, we responded to an ambulance call (got there first, naturally), and chased down a failure to stop and speeding suspect, who was driving a vehicle with one of those paint jobs that turns different colors in sunlight and darkness.
The computer was telling us the car was gold, but at night it looked like deep purple. It was also a Chevy SUV frame with Cadillac Escalade insignia, and those expensive "gangsta" wheels - in short, downright suspicious as hell looking at midnight on an island full of sleeping elderly retirees. After properly dealing with the actual infractions, and in essence releasing the motorist having had him sign for the ticket (reminding him the signature was not an admission of guilt, only a promise to appear), Steve innocently asked the driver "would you mind my looking at your vehicle?". Now, what could the guy say without looking even more suspicious? By now we had the help of a neighboring island police officer, and a second car from our island present to watch the driver and his friend. I watched our guy look from stem to stern in that vehicle, which quite frankly was a wreck inside, with missing upholstery and more "hidey holes" for contraband than I could count. I'm sure in the one mile pursuit to catch the guy, he had numerous opportunities to drop evidence into the slipstream, or through the floorboards and into the water as we pursued them off the island over a steel grated surface bridge.
Yes, the vehicles have changed, but folks are still playing cops and robbers, but the "swag" is no longer cash or jewels, but drugs. We found nothing, but it was once again a teaching experience. I figure two or three more of these nighttime adventures, and I can write a book.
The first thing you learn is what NOT to write about - because as much as our local residents feel safe in their beds, there is a criminal element out there, and a thin blue line standing up to defend against it. We often fail to appreciate those guys, but without them and their vigilance, our island wouldn't be the great place it is today. I salute you, Captain Steve, and the many you've trained to be our first line of defense against those who would harm us.
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