Riding again with the 77th

Car thieves, kidnappers and prostitutes. No I'm not talking about ad agencies I've worked at. I'm talking about my second ride-along with the great professionals of the LAPD.

I've already written about my first ride-along experience here. But last Monday night, I had the privilege of being partnered with Sgt. Bland of the 77th Street Community Police Department. Located in the heart of South Central Los Angeles, it's a place officers gain the kind of experience in a very short time that they couldn't get at any other outpost.

I'd expected to ride with Sgt. Sandoz who I did my first ride-along with. But he was unexpectedly assigned Watch Commander for the night, and I wound up riding with the equally exceptional Sgt. Bland from 7p.m. to 4a.m.

We went to the parking lot to look for our assigned car, number 89140. Sgt. Bland handed me a spare set of keys to the car. I asked him what they were for, and he said, "In case you need them." I didn't ask anything else.

Like my previous ride-along, I fully expected the four words I'd hear most from Sgt. Bland would be, "Stay in the car." But also like before, he said I was riding as his partner and could get as close as I wanted with him to the action (with one exception).

Once the Jurassic Park-sized fortress doors from the garage of the 77th opened to let us out, the first call was a stolen van with five occupants. When we arrived, they were stopped on 76th Street, under a Harbor freeway overpass. I saw about 12 police cars with the officers out of them, standing behind their open car doors with guns drawn and aimed at the occupants coming out of the van to join the ones already on the ground, face down with arms and legs spread out as they'd been instructed.

The officers in the cars closest to the van had their shotguns drawn.

I asked Sgt. Bland why there was so much firepower for one stolen van. He said there were two reasons. First, while the officers could see five occupants, they didn't know if there were others hiding in the van and whether or not they were armed (or with what). Second was the message it sent. I asked what that was, and he told me, "You're not going to win."

It turned out there were five people in the van, and the only hidden occupant was a baby blue pit bull puppy.

There are a lot of pit bulls in South Central.

Next was a domestic violence call. When we arrived, the fire department was there as well. A woman had been pushed out of a truck, and was being treated at the scene and taken to the hospital. Her face had been badly banged up, her head was bandaged and she had blood all over her. It doesn't look anything like it does on television. We stayed until the paramedics took her away.

As we were driving off, we saw a gentleman stop his and car drop off a woman we believed to be a prostitute given the known prostitution activity in the area. He was driving down the street, except what he didn't know was that it was a dead end street.

Sgt. Bland had me run the plate on the patrol car's computer. What came up was all the information on the vehicle, as well as the owner, a Mr. Kang. Since the driver appeared to be a male Asian, we believed him to be the registered owner. We pulled around to the end of the street he'd have to come out of. When he did, we shone a light on him, and called out, "Mr. Kang. Go home Mr. Kang. Have a good night."

In case you didn't know, getting caught dropping off a prostitute by LAPD results in a very shocked expression. I thought I actually heard him pee his pants.

Oh Mr. Kang.

Next up was a liquor store robbery. We got there shortly after it happened. Two robbers had been able to gain access to the contents of a safe while they held the owner at gunpoint. The officers already at the scene had everything under control, so we left to continue patrolling the streets.

South Western and Figueroa are popular "tracks" for prostitutes. Every once in awhile we'd pull up to one, ask how she was doing and remind her to keep her eyes open and be safe. They'd say okay, then walk away quickly from the car. Nothing kills business more than talking to LAPD.

Back to the domestic violence call. When the officers followed up with the woman at the hospital, they learned who did it. It was a former relationship of hers. He had her in a truck, and when she asked him to stop so she could get out, he sped up then pushed her out into the alley.

Assault with a deadly weapon (ADW), kidnapping and domestic violence all in a matter of moments.

She told the officers where he lived, and that he kept a loaded shotgun at his front door.

We went back to the 77th, where Sgt. Bland and six other officers quickly planned a strategy for getting him. I could feel the atmosphere change and the tension ratchet up as they discussed where they'd be positioned around his house, and contingencies depending on how he reacted to the knock at the door.

A caravan of four police cars drove to his house. Remember earlier I said there was one call I couldn't get close to? This was it. I stayed in the car while the officers went to his door. From where I was positioned, I heard them knock on the door and tell him to come out. In that moment, for the first time all night, I was afraid because I didn't know what sound I was going to hear next.

Fortunately, the guy decided to not shoot it out, and was taken in without incident.

Turns out he was 5'8" and 140lbs. Seeing him escorted to the patrol car in front of me by two officers over 6' tall was pretty comical. One of them had the shotgun that was in his apartment, as well as another gun he kept in his bedroom.

And ladies, I understand he is single again. Just saying.

After that, we went back to the station. Sgt. Bland thanked me for keeping him safe out there (nice of him to say, but we both know it was the other way around).

Just like last time, each and every officer I met during the evening was exceptional. They have no idea what they're walking into from one call to the next. Yet they handle each one with professionalism, courtesy and a respect for the people they're dealing with regardless of their situation in life. It is inspiring to see, and reassuring to know.

The other thing that remains the same from my last ride-along is the resourcefulness of these officers given the limited resources due to budget cuts. These dedicated, overworked and underpaid officers are stretched almost to the breaking point.

But here's the secret: for them, there is no breaking point.

I said this in my last post, but I'll say it again: if you're so inclined, and you should be, sending a letter to Anthony Villaraigosa or Governor Brown asking them not to cut the budget where law enforcement is concerned can do nothing but help.

Once again, I want to give a huge thank you to Sgt. Bland and all the great people working at the 77th, not only for letting me have this incredible experience a second time, but for who they are and what they do each and every day for all of us.

Roger that.

The 77th

I am never complaining about a tough day at work again.

Last Saturday night, I had the privilege of riding along with Sgt. Sandoz of the L.A.P.D. 77th Street Community Police Department. It's located in the heart of South Central Los Angeles, and to say that it's a busy division would be an understatement.

I joke a lot about growing up on the mean streets of West Los Angeles (north of Wilshire). But driving through South Central on my way to the station makes that joke ring incredibly hollow. I was born and raised here, yet I've never been in that part of the city.

Sadly, many residents there have never been out of it.

When I first arrived at the station, Sgt. Sandoz gave me a tour. I met many officers, who were all welcoming and surprisingly upbeat, funny and optimistic given the work they do.

And the high crime area they do it in.

I was shown things the general public rarely sees: the holding cells, all metal - makes it a lot easier to hose down. The watch commander's office. The weight room where officers work off some of the stress of the job. The very overcrowded jail at the station, including the two padded rooms which were occupied.

I was also shown the breathalyzer station, or as Sgt. Sandoz called it "Comedy Central", where drunk driving suspects try to fool the machine. I saw a few suspects try to do just that later in the evening when we came back to the station.

The vial of medical marijuana one of them had probably didn't help any.

Every day, the officers have to check out the weapons and patrol cars. We walked up to a counter in front of a room where the walls were lined with shotguns to get ours. Well, his. I didn't get one. (I also didn't get a bulletproof vest. Forest Whitaker got one when he was there researching a role for a movie. I'm just sayin'.)

Anyway, after Sgt. Sandoz got the shotgun and car keys, we went into the station lot to find our car: number 89173. Here's the thing about the 77th parking lot: sitting in the overhead pipes throughout the lot are giant stuffed animals keeping watch on everything. Don't ask.

We got in our car and were off. I told Sgt. Sandoz I fully expected the four words I'd hear most from him were, "Stay in the car." But he said not at all. I was riding with him as his partner. As far as anyone knew, I was a police officer and I was welcome to be right there with him on the calls.

While we were driving the real mean streets, I got to run license plates for stolen cars on this laptop that sits between the front seats in the patrol car. I actually was pretty good at it. When we'd pull up to a red light, or behind a Toyota or Honda (the most frequently stolen cars), I'd run the plates. Unfortunately I didn't get any hits. I was seriously hoping for a high speed chase. Maybe next time.

I also got to sit in at the 911 call communications center for the entire city of Los Angeles. Listening in on a few of those calls, and the way the 911 operators handle them, gives an entirely new definition to the word "patience".

I'm not going to go into great detail, but here are a few of the calls I went out on:

- A domestic violence call. We parked down the street from the address and waited for another unit to get there before we went in. The woman, visibly bruised and scratched, said her boyfriend was sitting in a car in the back of the apartment with their baby. The officers and I went around back, and saw him with the baby in the backseat of an old BMW. They asked him to come out and he didn't right away. There's a moment where you have no idea what's going to happen, what he's going to do to himself, the baby or us. But eventually he got out, gave the baby to the officers and the police cuffed him and took him away.

- An AIDS patient wanted to kill himself. He very calmly explained to both Sgt. Sandoz and me that he was overwhelmed with his own situation, and that his ailing mother who lived with him was driving him crazy and he wanted to end it - although he hadn't given any thought yet as to how. He was still healthy and showing no signs of the disease. A second unit arrived, and he was taken away for psychological evaluation.

- A man brandishing a gun. This was interesting for a few reasons. The apartment where this happened was at the corner of Florence and Normandie, flashpoint of the 1992 riots after the Rodney King verdict. Up until this point, I'd only seen this intersection from an overhead shot on the news. The man allegedly brandishing the gun was in a back unit you got to by going down a narrow walkway with apartments on both sides. The people he was threatening were family. Several units arrived (mention "gun" and the party's on), and a helicopter was called in to shine some light on the place. Myself and several officers were lined up against a side of the walkway, as they told everyone in the back unit to come out with their hands over their heads. Which they did. They were cuffed, and faced the wall as the officers went into the apartment to make sure no one else was there, and to retrieve the gun. It turned out there was never a gun, and it was an extremely heated family argument that triggered (see what I did there?) the whole incident. Once the situation was under control, we were back on patrol.

Since it was a relatively slow evening, at least the part of it I was there for (7PM-1:30AM), I didn't see anything really hardcore (bodies, shootouts, more bodies). Actually kind of grateful for that.

The real crime happening everyday is the budget cuts to the department that force these dedicated, overworked and underpaid officers to stretch their limited resources virtually to the breaking point. If you're so inclined, and you should be, sending a letter to Anthony Villaraigosa or Governor Brown asking them not to cut the budget where law enforcement is concerned can do nothing but help.

I want to give a huge thank you to Sgt. Sandoz and all the great people working at the 77th, not only for letting me have this incredible experience, but for who they are and what they do each and every day for all of us.

Roger that.