Blue & Gold - Jackie Never Ran by Ray Shay

 

Editors note: Gold and 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. 

Last Thursday morning as the sun began rising over San Diego, California, I found myself reflecting on the upcoming holiday season. I stepped off the treadmill and asked myself what I was thankful for?  I recall thinking, "I'm glad Jackie never ran."

My response surprised me.  Maybe it was my short and labored breathing as I recalled chasing criminals on foot or maybe, just maybe, I was thinking about rookie Police Officer Jerry Hartless.  I always think of him during this time of year. Jerry was killed in the line of duty in 1988, shortly after Chrstmas.    

Jerry, a former Marine who I had the honor of training was murdered while chasing an armed drug dealer who was a member of  a notoriously violent street gang in Southeast San Diego.

Officer Jerry Hartless is on the left.

Jerry at the young age of twenty-four years old was the  elventh SDPD officer killed in the line of duty in just eleven years, (click here). At the time our officer mortality rate ranked us the most dangerous city in America to be a cop.

As for Jackie, he was one of our regular customers.  I cannot really say he was my friend since we only interacted while I was on the job. 

Jackie had a slight problem.  He was a code three heroin addict and we were on opposite teams.  His job was to feed his addiction while we tried to stop him.   

Jackie was easy to recognize.  When we saw each other in the busy downtown streets of San Diego he never ran from me. I think part of it was the derivative of opium regularly flowing through his blood stream which slows everything down.  In a strange way we both enjoyed talking with each other.

I usually only arrested Jackie early in my shift before darkness fell and brought with it the increase in violent crime which pushed non violent criminal arrests to the back burner.  It would be tough to explain to my fellow officers I was with Jackie when the drive by shootings and stabbings started coming in and there was no one available to cover them.

So many young people think drugs can be romantic or are not dangerous. I wish I could somehow bring every high school student in San Diego into the cramped quarters in Police Headquarters where we conducted our evaluations of persons under the influence of narcotics.

Jerry's Police Academy Classmates. Jerry is in lower left corner.

It was where police officer trainees would often begin to learn what it is like to see a heroin junkie up close and personal.  I won't even attempt to describe the smell that filled the dark room as we examined Jackie's pinpoint pupils.  

They say a person's eyes are a mirror to their soul, but they are also the truest indicator of what is coursing through a persons blood stream.

Jackie if nothing else was consistent.  He almost always displayed the classic symptoms of opiate abuse by repeatedly licking his dry lips, lightly scratching his face and when he spoke you could see the white film on his tongue and lips.

I would always look at my trainees face when Jackie rolled up his sleeves or his pants legs as the lab technician faced the challenge of trying to find a useable vein to draw blood.  The countless puncture wounds, scabs and abscesses provided a strange roadmap of where all of Jackie's veins were within reach of a hypodermic needle.  Silent testimony to his relentless addiction.
 
On the rare instances when Jackie was not high, I could tell he was in pain. I suggested he go to the methadone clinic or get help, but he would just shake his head from side to side much like the tremors he experienced due to his bodies hunger for heroin. 

Monty Hall

When we had enough arrests on  Jackie we would meet in San Diego Municipal Court.  Jackie's Public Defender always had a strange look on his or her face when Jackie and I exchanged pleasantries. 

Much like Monty Hall on Let's Make A Deal, Jackie would plead guilty to a few counts of under the influence of narcotics while the City Attorney would throw out a few.  The ultimate result is Jackie would finally get help for his addiction while in custody.

When Jackie got out of jail he always looked so much healthier.  I'm sure it was the "Duffy Burgers."  The name inmates and deputies called the hamburgers served in County Jail.  A jab or compliment to Sheriff Duffy.

When Jackie returned to the streets he would always quickly climb back on the drug train where food is no longer important.  It took control of him and ultimately carried Jackie and countless people like him to their graves.

In a strange and tragic way both Jackie's slow death and Officer Jerry Hartless' violent death are connected through drugs. As our society continues our path towards decriminalization of not only marijuana but narcotics, people should reconsider how it will impact our children.

Officer Jerry Hartless carried to his final resting place.

I think if the people who voted for passage of Proposition 47 (which made narcotic possession a misdemeanor in California) had met Jackie, or saw Officer Jerry Hartless' young widow holding the above flag in her small and trembling hands, they would have been better educated voters.

After twenty four years in law enforcement, I prefer to focus on the roses, but it is likely the hidden scars which reminds me to take a moment when sitting down with family and friends this holiday season and give thanks to both law enforcement and our military heroes for their sacrifices.

Without them and their families, our people and certainly our country would be lost to violence.

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