Odds 'N Ends

Happy MLK Day. Let us all pause and remember what the Reverend Dr. King's message was really about.

A segment of Democratic legistators are skipping Friday's inauguration of our country's 45th President. Celebrities are engaging in protests. Performers are refusing to perform at the event. I say 'good'.  Unlike some of the younger generation, I can remember a time when a presidential inauguration didn't closely resemble a pre-Super Bowl Hollywood gala. Parades with marching bands? Fine. No problem. Parades are good; we have them on major national holidays. Let's focus on what the day really represents, though: a transition of power in the White House.

I was thinking about some of the losses we've suffered in the local law enforcement realm lately, specifically Lawrence Harper and Dan Brant. It brought to mind another man who had a great deal of influence in my career as a police officer, a leader that I wish today's generation of coppers could have known: Lt. J.D. 'Jack' Moore, post commander of Mansfield's Ohio State Highway Patrol back in the '70s.

A few weeks ago I mentioned Lt Moore in the Lawrence Harper post, saying that he was '...the best cop I ever knew.' Allow me to expand on that. He was one of the best PEOPLE I had the privilege of knowing. I first met him in 1977, when I was accepted as a cadet/dispatcher at post 70. Cadet/dispatchers are persons who have been accepted into the OSHP training academy but are awaiting assignment to a class of recruits. Until their class starts, they work as dispatchers for the State Patrol and are, figuratively speaking, at the bottom of the totem pole.

Jack Moore didn't see it that way, because he treated me more as a fellow employee instead of the lowest subordinate. He would take me to workout sessions with him three times a week when I worked day shift, always at the old Naval Reserve center on Ashland Road, where we'd run laps in the small gym. Many, many of them. Then calisthenics, with LT always encouraging me to go one repetition further than my body said I could. He told me everything he knew about the academy, what to expect and prepare for, how to act and respond to the training staff. It would be tough, he told me, tougher than anything I'd ever done...and he had been right. The point is, JD didn't make a difference in how he treated people, be it a young cadet/dispatcher or one of his troopers. He was a pure people person, well-respected among his peers. From that first day I met JD to this morning, I have yet to hear one person make a single, negative remark about Jack Moore.

Many, many folks in today's law enforcement community would benefit from adopting his leadership style. That was illustrated several years ago when a young, eager patrol officer came to me with a question.

"Tim, how do you get so many people calling you or telling you drug information?" The guy was speaking about drug trafficking intelligence.

My response? "Well, Norbert ( not his real name ), first off, don't treat everyone you come in contact with like crap. You don't need to write a ticket or summons every time someone breaks the law. Give a guy a break on a minor violation, he'll remember that and maybe help you out in the future."

Norbert was stunned. Apparently, he'd never considered that possibility.

People make mistakes. We're humans and we sometimes make bad decisions which could follow us for life. The key is, if you make a mistake or bad decision, learn from it and move forward. Listen to those who have been where you want to go. One incident is a mistake; after that, behavior and/or decisions become a pattern.

Above all, treat others how you want to be treated. It's not rocket science, folks.

Thought For Today...

Just because you have an Italian last name doesn't mean you should open a restaurant.

Another Leaves Us

I first met Captain Dan Brant in August of 1984 and I was scared to death of him.

I'd been hired on the 4th of that month, sworn in alongside Chuck Norris, Chris Brunk and Dave Nirode. I can't recall where the other three were assigned, but I drew afternoon shift...Captain Brant's shift.

Sgt Bob 'Pappy' Poth was my training officer, and I couldn't have drawn a better one. Bob knew everyone and everyone knew him. He was a real street copper.

He took me into the Watch Commander's office to meet Captain Brant that first day, an old hand a shade over six feet and carrying a little extra weight for his frame. I was very nervous, though I can't explain why, other than I knew that this man had the power to take my job at the first misstep. Captain Brant peered at me over the top of his reading glasses, sizing me up.

"So, an Ontario guy, huh?" I'd been at Ontario PD for four years before being hired on at the city.

"Yessir."

"Welcome aboard", he said, standing and extending a hand. "Forget everything you think you know about being a policeman. Sergeant Poth will teach you how we do things here."

He sat back at his desk and resumed reading from a stack of papers, signalling that the introduction was over.

I was sweating.

I'd come to find in the weeks ahead that 'The Boss' was a stickler on paperwork; I'd always been pretty good at writng General Offense reports, and I'd done a few with the help of my 'coach' that hadn't been rejected. That would change, however.

Pappy and I were about three hours into the shift; I'd done my first G.O. on my own earlier, with no help from him, and had dropped it in the 'To Be Approved' basket in the Sergeants Office, feeling pretty satisfied with myself. Pappy had me driving and handling the radio at this stage, my earlier service at OPD having given me a head start during training. Then the radio call came.

"300 to 135". That was me.

"Go ahead."

"135, signal 23 and contact the Watch Commander." I had to go on station and report to Captain Brant.

HOLY COW, what could I have possibly done??!! Being told to contact 'The Boss' was a big deal.
I started running every scenario of what was going to happen through my head, every one of them ending with me being fired.

Pappy didn't help matters. "Uh oh, that's not good..." He had his head turned toward his door window; I couldn't see the smile that had to be there over causing a nervous rookie additional angst.

As we pulled into the compound, Pappy told me he'd wait in the car. I was going in alone.

I rounded the corner in the hallway that led straight to the WC office, and I could see Captain Brant absorbed in reading a G.O....which turned out to be the one I'd turned in earlier. I was sweating bullets as I stepped into his office.

"You wanted to see me, sir?"

Again, he peered at me over his glasses, not speaking immediately, fixing me with his unwavering gaze.

"Dangling participle." His eyes never left me.

WHAAAT??

"Dangling participle. You have one in your report," he said, holding up my paperwork adorned with a big red circle around the offending grammatical error. I'd have to rewrite the entire report.

Well, he wouldn't fire me over a dangling participle, would he?

Dan Brant died Sunday at the age of 72. Dan was a man I would come to know well over the coming years, a guy who would seem gruff until you got to know him and a man who liked to laugh. I don't know what kind of street cop he'd been, but I do know he was a very good supervisor who cared about his people. He was a man who would sit and talk about whatever you wanted to talk about, if need be, regardless of how much of his time you took.

I respected the man immensely and considered him a friend.

And I will miss him.

Senseless Acts

The community expressed an interest in a project, the city listened and an ice rink was built.

Within days it had been vandalized, even before the rink had been declared open,

The Mansfield City Parks Department, responding to public requests for a temporary skating rink, built the structure in Prospect Park, located on the near-south side of the city, this past Thursday. The only thing the rink needed was water and some temps below the freezing mark.

Tuesday morning, when city employees returned to work after the New Year holiday, it was discovered that the rink liner had been vandalized by poking holes in the liner material, making it impossible for the rink to hold water.

Senseless.

What reason would anyone have to commit such an act? The answer is: there is none.

Someone just decided to destroy property that wasn't theirs.

In the broader view of law enforcement concerns, vandalism is far down the list if priorities; however, that still doesn't make it right. Some miscreant decided to steal a little joy from the community by disabling the skating rink, wasting city money and time on a venture designed to answer a community desire.

Enter Mark Abrams, the city's Parks Director; Mark and his guys utilized a little 'as-seen-on-tv' rubberized patching material and sealed all the holes, making the rink, once again, ready for a little cold-weather fun.

And that cold weather is arriving this week.

Let's just hope the vandals have tired of senseless destructoin.

Resolutions Made and Kept

On New Year's Eve day in 2008, I made a resolution that I've kept for the last eight years. I came close to breaking it a few times, but I didn't cross that self-imposed line.

More about that one further down the page.

There's another I made three years ago, though I put off enforcing it until February 1st of that year. Since that date in 2013, however, I've stuck to it: I haven't bought a cigar since then. That one is huge, and if you've known me for a decade or two you're aware of how attached I was to Tampa Sweet Perfectos. My wife is very happy about my rejection of cigars; she'd be ecstatic if I could give up Skoal Extra Mint Blue dip pouches, which is what I used to wean myself off the cigars. Now I gotta find something to replace the dip. Until I find that substitute, I can't make that resolution.

One of my resolutions for this year will be not to gloat about Donald Trump's presidential election victory over Hillary Clinton. I don't want to act or behave as this nation's Democratic party did after Barack Hussein Obama's ascention to the presidency of this country in 2008 and again four years ago.

Back in 2008, I didn't wish that someone would assassinate Obama, nor did I openly call for public disturbances and protests during his inauguration ceremony. I didn't wish ill towards those who performed during that event, didn't want any vote recounts or the elimination of the Electoral College. Nope, I just accepted what had transpired.

And I endured the next eight years of Obama, knowing and hoping that America would eventually come to its senses and right the ship.

That is what I want today's liberal social justice whiners to do ( I refuse to call them 'warriors'; it would be insulting to our armed forces )....just endure. If that's not enough for them, they can refrain like I did the last 8 years.

I NEVER used the words 'President' and 'Obama' consecutively in a sentence.

On January 20th, however, I'll happily say 'former President Obama'.

That day can't get here soon enough.

Have a Happy New Year, everyone!

'What Were They Thinking?', the College Bowl Game Edition

Hundreds of thousands of high school athletes aspire to play college football and, eventually, on Sundays in the NFL.

Jeremy Sprinkle was halfway through the dream when he crashed into his own roadblock Tuesday.

Sprinkle, a senior tight end for the Arkansas Razorbacks, was scheduled to start Thursday night for Arkansas in the Belk Bowl against the Hokies of Virginia Tech.

Belk, a large chain of retail stores, sponsored the game in Charlotte, NC; along with that sponsorship, Belk gave each player from both teams a gift card worth $450 for use in one of their Charlotte stores during a ninety-minute shopping spree, which occurred on Tuesday. Apparently, Jeremy Sprinkle overindulged.

To the tune of $260 dollars' worth of merchandise.

The Arkansas tight end bought all he could on his gift card, then decided to shoplift what his card's limit wouldn't cover. Store security caught him in the act, called Charlotte-Mecklenberg Police and has him arrested and charged.

Razorback coach Brett Bielema, who suspended his starting tight end for the bowl game, told the media "Throughout his career...Jeremy has displayed numerous times the qualities we want to represent our program. We have standards...that must be upheld on a daily basis, and unfortunately...he failed to do that."

Sprinkle, according to NFL draft analyst Mel Kiper Jr, is the number 7-rated tight end in the upcoming NFL draft. Prospective draftees undergo rigorous background interviews by NFL front office personnel prior to the draft, and his shoplifting incident is sure to garner intense scrutiny from interested teams. Though the incident isn't a certain death blow to his chances of being drafted, Sprinkle's stock will surely take a hit...which might lead to his going undrafted, costing him a large chunk of money from whoever he may sign with.

All for two-hundred-sixty dollars' worth of merchandise.

Arkansas lost to Virginia Tech, 35-24.

Jeremy Sprinkle

A Legend Departs Us

Bunk Harper was a legend.

A man among men. A trailblazer.

He was the city's first black police officer, its's first black Captain and the first black Chief of Police.

Lawrence Harper dropped out of Mansfield Senior High School and enlisted in the Marines on D-Day, 1944. After completing his 4-year enlistment and coming home, Chief Harper finished high school...and became a policeman for the City of Mansfield in 1948. Bunk Harper walked a beat in the city's north end which, back then, was a pretty rough section of town. From what I've been told over the years, Bunk kept order on his beat, one way or another and by whatever means necessary.

Retired Mansfield Police Chief Lawrence 'Bunk' Harper passed away Thursday, December 22nd, in a Galion nursing home, having spent fifty-four years of his working life wearing a badge. He was 90 years old.

I cannot imagine, in this day and age, a city police officer lasting over five decades on the job.

'Bunk' was a Major when I was sworn in at MPD in 1984, and I'll never forget meeting him; even at his then-age of 57, I knew he was an old-school cop; a man who commanded respect, who had a presence about him I hadn't experienced since I was a cadet/dispatcher at post 70 with the Ohio State Highway Patrol.

The man I worked for back then was Lt. J.D. 'Jack' Moore who was, simply, the best cop I ever knew.

Not long after I started at MPD I had occasion to run into Major Harper on the city building elevator. I was about as nervous as a man dressed in a steak suit walking into a lion's den; I think he sensed it.

"How's it going, Clark?"

He remembered my name! I was stunned.

I don't recall how I answered him, but I knew simply having him remember who I was cleared a hurdle with Major Harper; there were some officers who'd worked at MPD for years longer than I whose names he didn't know. Even years after he retired I ran into him a couple of times, and I'd always get that same question: "How's it going, Clark?"

During my years at Mansfield PD, Major...and then Chief...Harper would prove to be a steady, thoughtful commander of his police officers, a real leader who stood up for his people...whether they liked it or not. I'll readily acknowledge that some of his decisions didn't always resonate within the ranks of the police department but, looking back, its easy to see that Chief Harper always had the best interests of the city's residents at heart.

I respected him immensely.

I remember working many a midnight shift and seeing Lawrence Harper, dressed in sweats, jogging the city's darkened streets. He'd run for miles, no matter the weather...rain, snow...it didn't matter. He was a common sight for us graveyard-shifters, slogging along and throwing up a hand when he'd see us pass by.

That was Chief Harper.

And now he has left us.

Heaven's streets are a little bit safer with Bunk Harper, retired street cop and Marine, walking a beat.