In defense of our defenders

There was a period earlier this year when I was a criminal.

Nothing too bad, I hasten to assure you. I didn’t hold up any convenience stores, print any counterfeit money or sell any crack cocaine. Never, at any point, was I armed and dangerous.

No, this involved my state inspection sticker. My aging Mazda had flunked that test, and the cost of what was required to make it right considerably exceeded the money I had to spend on it. So when my expiration sticker ran out, I was faced with a dilemma. Given the chaotic schedules of my wife and me, there was no way we could share one car. I had to drive mine, illegal sticker and all, until I could get it fixed.

It changed my life, for that span of time. Interviews I would normally have preferred to do in person I conducted over the phone, because I was reluctant to drive the Mazda downtown. I started staying at home during the day and working at night, like a vampire, because the sticker was less visible then. Generally, I felt as though I had a huge sign on my windshield that read: “Give this man a ticket.” Everywhere I went, city or county, I saw police and sheriff’s deputy cars and became creative at avoiding them.

I’m legal now, but I thought about that experience recently when Lynchburg City Council member Jeff Helgeson argued against the latest city budget because it delivered the same pay cut to law enforcement personnel as it did to all the other city employees.

Since I’m not the City Hall reporter, I haven’t closely perused that budget. The majority of council members may well be right when they say there is absolutely no wiggle room to reward the cops, despite increased attrition among the ranks of patrol officers.

Still, I’d like to make the point that being a cop isn’t quite the same as working for the water department or teaching middle school, as invaluable as those other services may be.

If a friend were to call me and say: “I’m over here at this convenience store, and two guys with guns are robbing it. I need you to get over here right now,” I would reply: “Sure. Just let me know when the two guys with guns are gone.”

If you’re a cop, though, you have to hustle over to try to intercept the robbers, armed or not. You have to insert yourself into domestic arguments where both parties have gone over the edge. You have to pull over out-of-town vehicles, not knowing as you approach the driver’s side door if the car might have been stolen or is being driven by a maniac.

Also, as I’ve written about before in this space, it can’t be easy knowing that so many of your fellow citizens really don’t want you around. That’s because the police, in many cases, are perceived as having been hired to spoil our fun. Their very presence, even when off-duty, makes a lot of “civilians” nervous.

It’s true that nearly every police department in the world contains a few bad apples. Not everyone can handle authority, and some cops seem to become intoxicated with their power to the point of being bullies. It’s a job that can attract applicants for the wrong reasons.

But those Dirty Harry types, I believe, are in the minority. Most of the cops I’ve dealt with in this area have been courteous and professional (although I sometimes wonder why it takes them 20 minutes to fill out a speeding ticket).

Moreover, the occasional presence of overbearing cops tells me that this is not a job we want to trust to the lowest common denominator. It requires people skills as well as physical courage — not an everyday combination — and the numerous downsides to the job make it difficult to make it attractive to the right people without financial reward.

In time, perhaps this will all work itself out. In the meantime, I would offer this piece of advice to the majority on City Council who voted for the budget — don’t ever let your inspection sticker expire.