Part of my work for the California Cities Violence Prevention Network and the National Forum on Violence is to visit those cities engaged in the work of launching a comprehensive violence prevention strategy, a strategy blending prevention, such as family support, intervention, such as mentoring or drop out prevention, enforcement and reentry (work with individuals returning from prison), in short prevention of violence and helping build healthy communities that don’t produce violence.
This means, of necessity, on-site meetings with mayors, police chiefs and leaders in the public health, education, employment areas – to name a few. In addition, it always means getting close to the streets, visiting youth workers on the streets during high crime hours, the faith community holding vigils, the police patrolling crime “hot spots.”
In this situation, about four years ago, I joined a veteran Sacramento police officer on a “ride-along,” I’m joining him, here, on his first shift early one morning.
Sacramento Ridealong
July, 2013
“This is our worst area.
You don’t want to patrol here unless you’re young…
looking for action, the real cop work.
I did it for years; just couldn’t keep up.
Lost a step, many steps;
but in a pinch I come back.
In a funny way I miss it.”
Gutted houses; pot holes; graffiti, and
a market, sort of. Open?
Two men sit on a curb passing a bag between them,
chugging from it.
The cop car elicits no reaction:
could be a passing camel, or a tank.
“My God, there’s Gladys! After all these years.
A good night, Gladys?”
“No, but it’s money. I only had one.
He kept me till now. Not bad. Mostly slept.”
“Gladys: Still? Why?”
“Got babies to feed.”
“Gladys, your ‘babies’ days are over.”
“No way. They keep coming back:
My gran’ kids; then their kids’ kids.
Lot’s of cryin,’ mouths to feed.
I’m tired.”
“So am I, but I’ve got a car.
You’re walking.
Hop in?”
“My hoppin’ in days is gone.
Just do tricks when I get called.
But you could take me to my granddaughter’s house.
Won’t spoil the city’s car much.”
She gets in the back,
separated from the guns and computer
by thick wire mesh.
She sighs.
“Gladys, you’re too old for this.”
“You are too. But I tole you,
‘I got babies.’
Ain’t you got babies?”
Written by Jack Calhoun
Mr. Calhoun is an internationally renowned public speaker and frequent media guest, editorial contributor and author of three books. He is the founder and CEO of Hope Matters. For more than 20 years, Mr. Calhoun was the founding president of the National Crime Prevention Council, prior to which he served under President Carter as the Commissioner of the Administration for Children, Youth and Families.
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Ken Klopman says
December 10, 2014 at 5:14 pmAs a now-retired 30-year law enforcment veteran, I can especially appreciate the dialogue between Gladys and the officer. You really captured the essence and tragic reality of that exchange to the degree that I could clearly envision it in my mind. (I felt like I was present with the three of you on that Sacramento street.) So many who have never had to endure such hardship and choice as Gladys has have no real awareness that such scenarios are played out everyday right here in our own communities. Thank you for sharing, Jack!