Jun 17, 2023
Armchair quarterbacks
Michaele Duke All of us armchair quarterbacks think we know everything. Watching a video captured by some bystander of a fight between an officer and a drunk, we throw our opinions about how the
Michaele Duke
All of us armchair quarterbacks think we know everything. Watching a video captured by some bystander of a fight between an officer and a drunk, we throw our opinions about how the situation should have been handled. We’re the experts. We’ve trained for these scenarios in our heads many times.
I am guilty. I am one of those sideline experts. I watch the videos as well as all the real-life shows (Forensic Files, The First 48 Hours) so I have the inside scoop at the behind-the-scenes life of cops, EMS, victim’s advocates, 911 and so on. I have a pretty good idea of what I’d do if the latest crime happened on MY watch.
That’s what I thought till I signed up for the Williamsburg County Citizen’s Academy, a “behind-the-badge” course. Sheriff Stephen Gardner and his crew organized the eight-week class that explored (sometimes shockingly) the daily workings of our first responders and related departments. Citizens had to apply and have no criminal record. The class, by the way, was full.
The classes were taught by experts, you know, the ones who partake in the real world of bad guy/good guy situations, working way too many hours and witnessing everything from the aftermath of a homicide to child abuse. Subjects included gang activity, the K-9 division, victim’s services, emergency preparedness, drones, and crime scene investigation, to name a few.
The students didn’t get a watered-down version either. Hands-on scenarios included a simulator that puts you front and center with bad guys (and good guys) coming at you. With a firearm (simulator) in hand, you had to deal with an ever-changing situation while making split-second decisions that could save your life and those around you. Most of us failed more than once. In a domestic abuse scenario, I would eventually answer to a jury for fatally wounding an innocent man. So much for armchair quarterbacking.
After visiting the 911 communications center where calls come in by the thousands (yes, I said thousands), we were tasked with role playing as dispatch/patrol. Rather than describing the scene, the sheriff’s office posted on their social media page, a very brief video displaying the chaos that occurs when inexperienced civilians take charge. Yep, I was a perfect example.
We were also party to several demos with the K-9 units. They have a tracker and a drug dog. With permission, you can greet the tracking K-9, but don’t try that with the narcotics doggo. I (almost) found out the hard way. During a mock traffic stop the deputy was telling the driver to get out of his vehicle. As he was doing so, Deputy Fur Missile (not his real name) was barking and ready to pounce.
I had positioned myself about 40 feet away and leaned quietly against a wall so I could capture the interaction with my camera. However, the dynamics changed when Mr. Missile decided to zero in on me! The deputy was fully aware and said something to me (I have no idea what he said because I was terrified). A flood of anxiety washed over me as I assumed my arm looked like a juicy T-bone to the big bad Belgian Malinois. Breaking eye contact - at least I did know to do that - I slithered back to the safety of the group, saying a prayer that Missile would train his gaze on the real suspect. Thank goodness he did. Good dooog!
The following week we learned about domestic violence and then, for some reason, we jumped right into drinking and driving which included how a sobriety test works. To make things interesting, Sheriff Gardner passed around these goggles that turn you into a drunk when put them on. I wore a pair that simulate a blood alcohol level of .06 (that’s three lemon drop martinis). I was wobbling all over the place. I forgot to count my steps. I even tried to hold on to the Sheriff. I failed. In real life I’m going to jail.
Week seven and we’re failing sobriety tests and running over people. Not really! We were instructed to drive a cart (while the Sheriff controlled the speed) through a row of cones that we lovingly referred to as pedestrians. I didn’t think I hit a single cone; I ran over seven. In real life I think that’s involuntary manslaughter.
The final week of the course we participated in the judicial process that included a mock trial with retired Judge William Driggers presiding. After watching two scenarios, we can see that peace officers have to make decisions in abnormal situations. They are the public servants that work hard day in and day out to make our community safe. Also, if you’re ever given the opportunity to serve as a juror, take it.
After the mock trial we celebrated with a graduation and received some cool goodies. Looking back, I’m glad the Citizens Academy was not real life. Considering my snap decision in the simulator a few weeks back, I would have been fired my first week on the job, but worse, I’d be going to jail for a long, long time.
The next morning everyone meets on time. We get to the airport and the first qualifying flights are done. Then everyone goes to the full briefing for all the racers. This is a no bull meeting. Everyone has to sign in. If you don’t sign in you were not at the briefing. “No Brief=No Fly”. If y… Read moreSchool with no BS
Sand washes away. Memories last forever. Read moreA Scrape In The Sand
All of us ar… Read moreArmchair quarterbacks
Autism is mo… Read moreWhat's Preventing Mental Health Providers Like Me from Helping Kids with Autism