Editor's note: Gold & Blue is a series of police stories which may be inappropriate for younger readers. This is a small peek behind the badge of America's Finest.
I have never had a strong affinity for guns or hunting, but I still think some of the weapon systems I 
carried as a police officer were pretty cool. One of my favorites was a 9MM, MP5 sub-machine gun with about an 18-inch black suppressor attached to the end of the barrel.
carried as a police officer were pretty cool. One of my favorites was a 9MM, MP5 sub-machine gun with about an 18-inch black suppressor attached to the end of the barrel.
The gun was front heavy, but it was very quiet when fired and extremely accurate, whether the Heckler and Koch manufactured weapons fire selector switch indicated single shot, three-round burst or fully automatic. I enjoyed the qualification shoots and countless scenario trainings, but like most cops, I just looked at it as just another tool.
Not much different than a carpenter utilizing wood working tools for certain problems. Law enforcement's problems are just more complicated. I think people who knew I was on the SWAT team were surprised when I politely declined if they asked me to go hunting. I have just never been interested.
My little brother, Joseph, is an active hunter, but he always eats what he kills. I am good with it. That being said, I know exactly where the source of my aversion to hunting originated. It sounds kind of funny admitting it, but even as a kid, I would get grossed out with even the thought of cleaning a fish. On our family fishing trips, I loved to get up while the rest of our family of eight slept soundly in our old camper and makeshift parachute tent, while I snuck down to the stream or a lake in New Mexico to try and catch a fish.
When I did, the rainbow trout would be wiggling like crazy as it
hung on my catch line as I passed it off to my older brother, John, to gut and clean. I always turned away. My mom would later fry them up in an old iron skillet over the fire. It is a fond memory.
hung on my catch line as I passed it off to my older brother, John, to gut and clean. I always turned away. My mom would later fry them up in an old iron skillet over the fire. It is a fond memory.
I decided early on, I loved the hunt, just not the rest of it. As a member of the San Diego Police Department and the SWAT Team, I especially enjoyed arresting evil and dangerous people. I think it was the mental gymnastics and related challenges of evaluating the countless alternatives and trying to figure out what crazy thing the suspect may do next to avoid capture, escape from their barricaded location or where they would carry out their next vicious attack.
The goal was always to develop a plan which reduced the risk of injury to the public, our police officers and lastly the criminal.
It was like high stakes poker, but people's lives hung in the balance, instead of some innate piece of gold or casino chips piled high on a dark green felt playing surface. In the first instance, a decision that results in loss of life can haunt you for the rest of yours. In the second, you may be humbled or embarrassed, but then you can wait until aftermidnight, so you can get more cash from the casino ATM.
Some people say cops are adrenaline junkies. I can see why. It was the ultimate adrenaline rush and sense of job satisfaction to safely arrest an armed robbery suspect, hard core street gang member, child molester or other armed felon who was intent on committing additional crimes against law-abiding citizens.
At times being on the hunt for a fugitive was like the movie, "The Matrix." About 99 percent of the time the general public had absolutely no idea undercover or plainclothes officers were among them, tracking
down a wanted rapist or worse. So many people would walk by us, lost in their own thoughts or daily responsibilities. We were professional law enforcement officers, hiding in plain sight.
down a wanted rapist or worse. So many people would walk by us, lost in their own thoughts or daily responsibilities. We were professional law enforcement officers, hiding in plain sight.
We all carried concealed weapons, communications gear and a secret. If the word ever got out we were on a stake out, the suspects would never show up. Some crooks will pontificate to their fellow criminals and others that they seek a confrontation with law enforcement, but generally they are cowards. They prefer attacking the old, young or the weak. Unlike the old westerns, we knew they had little interest in meeting us at high noon in the middle of Imperial Avenue to face off, mano y mano. We had to find them.
On television or movies, police surveillances are so exciting. That is such a lie. They are usually incredibly boring with hours upon hours of staring at a possible target location or waiting for a criminal to walk into or out of a residence, restaurant, public bathroom, vehicle, or anything else you can imagine.
Some cops are amazing at tracking down and finding dangerous people. I was not one of them. The best of the real fugitive hunters would work for years to hone their expertise in places like CIU (Criminal Intelligence Unit) or FAU (Fugitive Apprehension Unit). Myself, working mostly uniform or tactical assignments, held those detectives and their supervisors in very high regard. I had a short list of those who I would call immediately, if terror ever came knocking on our families' door. They were, and still are, that good.
The fugitive hunters' hair like their clothes were frequently long or unkept, or they just looked like Uncle Orville. You would never make them out as a cop. Similar to the best narcotics officers, they had a way of blending into the background of a group of people and somehow suppressing the nervous twitches or habits most cops develop. They just don't smell like cops. Real undercover police work is an art more than science. Either you have it or you don't. Most cops don't.
The very best part of any surveillance or tracking down of a criminal is your fellow law enforcement officers. They are why you can do it. As tired as you may get or as bored as you are waiting for the moment you can arrest the suspect, you stay alert because you could never think of letting your partners down.
The space between catching the suspect or getting someone else killed is razor thin. So much of a moving surveillance is non verbal. A nod or glance can signal the murderer is within reach. Guns are last resort and going "hands on" is always preferred. The capture is frequently fast and often just a whisper in the criminal's ear as he is forced to the ground. Handcuffs are applied and the threat is then removed from the community.
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The Nebuchadnezzar Space Ship
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As mentioned earlier, Neo, Morpheus and their fellow shipmates on the Nebuchadnezzar would be so proud of the fast, clean arrest.
Just like when I was a kid, once the capture was made we would turn the criminal over to the Sheriff's deputies at San Diego County Jail. It was not my big brother, John, but I also never looked away in those final moments as we both would watch the thick metal door with bars roll shut and be secured with it's signature loud, "clunk."
It was both sad and satisfying. Very little was usually said between us and the predators. As they turned away to enter the first processing area, they were likely contemplatining their incarceration, while our thoughts drifted to the victims and how this person could no longer hurt anyone else. The thick jail air hung on our blue uniforms like an unwanted companion, until we finally got outside to the fresh, clean San Diego air. The kind of air a young kid may find on a high desert lake in New Mexico, just prior to casting his line back into the still cold water...
Have a safe week. By the time you read this, our family will be back in San Diego. We hope you and your family are having a great summer and enjoy the Fourth of July!
Ray and Theresa Shay
2013 - All Rights Reserved
