This is a story. It happens
to be a true story. It could have happened in your community. I hope it did
not. I heard this story fourth-hand, and do not know any of the people involved
or even where it took place.
The family car was stolen
off the street, near the home. The owners filed a police report, while joy
riders drove the hotwired car down some byway until it ran out of gas. The place
where the car was eventually abandoned was located in another county, whose
police found it and traced it to the owners and the filed stolen vehicle
report. The auto was duly inspected, towed to a tow yard in the county where it
was found. The owners of the stolen vehicle, upon being informed that it had
been recovered, dropped their child off with a friend, went to their local
police station to handle release paperwork that would allow them to retrieve
the car. Thus, the case was closed in the county of residence.
The couple took public
transit and a cab to the tow yard in the other county, signed a release form
and paid the towing fee. Thus, the case was closed in the county of recovery.
While they were driving back
to pick up their child, the wife found solicitation letters (junk mail) wedged
in the space between the passenger side seat and the door. The mail was of
various shapes, sizes and colors, from various consumer outlets, and addressed
to various other people than themselves.
The notion occurred: This must be evidence pointing to who stole
the car!
Instead of picking up their
child and returning home, the car owners took the mail to the police station
and spoke with the ranking officer at the walk-up window. They told the officer
their story and showed the officer the mail, saying they felt they were doing
their civic duty by reporting this evidence.
The officer listened to the
story, but did not touch the mail they were offering.
“Chain of evidence rules and
procedures say that we cannot accept this mail; there is nothing that indicates
the mail is evidence of any particular thing, per se. It would be best to take
the mail to the Post Office.”
The couple was incredulous.
They started telling their story again. Apparently, the officer hadn’t been
listening closely, and did not understand the import of what they were trying
to say.
The officer listened to the
repeated story, letting consideration and a silent pause clear the air before
replying.
“We have no way of knowing
how this mail got into your car or if it was even placed there by the
perpetrators of the auto theft. Was the mail put in the car in this
jurisdiction, or in the jurisdiction where it was recovered? Was the mail
picked up off the ground near the car in the tow yard and just placed inside it
on an assumption? These questions do not offer clarity about the mail and do
not indicate a link to the auto theft. As your stolen property has been returned
to you, the case is now closed. Please take the mail to the Post Office, where
they will know how to appropriately handle it.”
The couple looked at one
another. Surely, this was wrong. The couple asked to speak with a supervisor.
The officer went away, but came back very shortly.
“The sergeants and
lieutenant are out on calls. I am the ranking supervisor, at this moment.”
The couple couldn’t believe
it. They were obviously being stonewalled. They started again: This mail had to
be evidence of whoever stole the car.
“Aren’t you going to do your
job?” The couple said.
“I really cannot receive
this mail; please take it to the Post Office.”
Back behind the window,
co-workers could hear the entire exchange. They looked at one another, over
their piles of files and reports. One sighed. Another decided to intervene, so
they could all get back to work. That officer silently left the office,
circling around to the public lobby, where the couple stood, waving the junk
mail and elevating their insistent voices.
“I’ll take it. I’ll make
sure it is handled appropriately.” The officer escorted the couple to the
station door, waving at them as they left. When the couple was out of sight,
this officer walked the mail down the street, and dropped into the mailbox on the
corner. At least the addressees will
receive their mail; sale ends next week. Upon that officer’s return, the
entire office breathed a healing sigh, and resumed their very real and pressing
work with relief.
The couple that had brought
in the mail later filed a complaint against the officer who told them the mail
could not be accepted as evidence. The complaint was followed by an internal
procedural investigation.
To bring further clarity to
this story, you need to know that the couple whose car was stolen was white.
The officer they encountered at the police station, when they took the mail
there, was a non-Caucasian female, nearing retirement age; she had been
training a female cadet at the time of this encounter. The officer who put the
mail into the mailbox was a white male who had been a civilian office worker
with the department for only a few years.
***
Appearances are sometimes
deceiving, and usually never the end of any story.
When we presume we know
better, we are apt to find ourselves in the position of the fool.
The ranking officer had
explained the situation, but the couple, who had no law enforcement training,
for some reason did not trust her to have appropriate knowledge, did not trust
her explanations. What she told them did not conform, either to what they had
seen on TV or their expectations of
what should be done. They heard what she said, but they didn’t like it. The way
they saw it, they had gone out of their way to provide important evidence that
would lead to arrest and conviction of the perpetrator of the auto theft.
The well-meaning co-worker
de-escalated the situation, but probably should not have; doing so undercut the
authority and knowledge possessed by his supervisor in the eyes of the couple.
Ultimately, this fueled the couple’s dissatisfaction to where they made the
leap that this ranking officer had shirked her responsibility.
The car had been retrieved;
the case was closed; the junk mail presumably was delivered to the homes of the
addressees. That should have been enough of an outcome for anyone.
The rules are the rules;
procedures are procedures. If we don’t follow the rules and procedures, then of
what value are they? Can we assume procedures are illogical just because we don’t understand them? Yes, sometimes
we do discover that rules need to be changed; by all means, we must review all rules that truly do not make sense,
and either repeal them or refine them. Perhaps rules regarding the chain of
evidence are not among those in dire
need of revision.
That is one issue. More than
this, and primarily, I wonder what irreversible damage is done when judgments
are color- and gender-coded? Actually, I less wonder than know. The short answer is that citizenship
is diminished for All, and this is problematical when All is We The People.
This story, Citizens, is but
one example of the struggle we face in our local communities, our counties, our
states, our regions, the nation – and the world.
I hope this story provides
you food for thought.
(Chew your food well and completely
before swallowing, or indigestion is apt to follow.)
© 2017 by Elisabeth T. Eliassen
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