A Warmer Shade of Blue: Stories About Good Things Cops Do

By Scott Baker

Today’s headlines will sometimes all too often sensationalize stories involving cops to enhance their ratings or readership. Unfortunately many of those stories portray police in a negative light. But there is another side to police work that does not get reported. The side of police work that only a small part of the public gets to see. Scott Baker, former NYPD officer, describes in A Warmer Shade of Blue. Stories About Good Things Cops Do, the thing that cops want most is to help people in simple, everyday ways. These true life heartwarming stories show the real reasons cops become cops.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Feb 12, 2013
• ISBN: 9781624889844

Scott Baker

Scott Baker is a Cloud Software Architect at Intel, which he joinedas part of Intel's acquisition of the Open Networking Foundation(ONF) engineering team. While at ONF, he led the Aether DevOpsteam. Prior to ONF, he worked on cloud-related research projects atPrinceton and the University of Arizona, including PlanetLab, GENI,and VICCI. Baker received his Ph.D. in Computer Science from theUniversity of Arizona in 2005.

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Introduction

When I first became a cop, or on the job, I wasn’t sure what to expect. As civilians, or kids growing up, we really only know cops from seeing the way they are portrayed in TV shows and movies or by having a personal experience with them. Unfortunately, the all-too-sad reality of personal experiences is that they are usually negative. Think about it—when do you have anything to do with a police officer? It happens when he or she is giving you a summons or arresting you, you are a victim of a crime, a family member is sick or has been in an accident or, God forbid, has died. If bad news has to be delivered, it’s often the cop who does it. I can’t tell you how many sad tales I’ve heard that start with, I remember the night my father was in an accident. A cop knocked on our door in the middle of the night These scenarios leave negative impressions about the police in a person’s mind, and police officers are well aware of that fact and understand it.

But I am going to let you in on a secret, one that most people may half know but overlook. Police officers are human, and we care—deeply. We don’t come to work everyday wanting to give someone a summons or arrest people. The last thing any of us ever want to do is to shoot somebody. We also have feelings about victims, too. We feel for you every time you are the victim of a crime or have an accident. We feel for the parents who try to raise their kids right, but they still take wrong turns and end up hurt, in jail, or dead. We feel it when you look to us for answers we don’t have. We feel for you when we know you are right, but it must be demonstrated legally. We are fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, sons, and daughters, just like you. We have families, mortgages, car payments, bills to pay and lawns to mow, little league games and ballet recitals to attend.

You see, each police officer comes on the job for his or her own reason. For some, it is the cat and mouse challenges and adrenaline rush of police work; for others, it’s job security and pension. Or maybe it’s because their fathers or brothers were on the force before them. Some of us become cops to experience different things, work different hours, or not be locked up in an office all day. Whatever the reason, beneath all the machismo and emotional firewalls that cops build around themselves to protect their sanity is one universal motivation: to help people. Cops want to help people by putting the public’s best interest and safety above their own. That, truly, is the one common denominator that most cops share. It is why we run toward danger when everyone else is running away.

The stories in this book all show how cops care. We don’t want medals for it—we do it because it is what’s in our hearts and souls. Why do we need to help? Maybe we see helping people as a way of helping ourselves. Maybe we want to make a better society, to make us better people. We just want to do the right thing, the better thing, the caring thing that enables us and makes us feel good. Since we are exposed to the cold dark side of society, perhaps we want to show ourselves and others that humanity has a warm side as well. Because there is, and after you read the stories—all true and all from cops who told them to me—you’ll understand what I mean. Hopefully, you’ll feel the same way.

-Scott Baker

Something I Had to Do

In 1985 I was on a 4 x 12 tour (4 pm to 12 midnight) in the Eight-three, and we got a call about 10 p.m. to check out a domestic dispute. Car stops and domestic disputes are the most unpredictable situations a cop is involved in, and they can become dangerous very quickly. A domestic dispute can be really volatile and turn bad very fast if we are not careful.

Many times when we go to a domestic dispute, the house is a mess and so are the people, each one trying to skin the other alive with anger and obscenities, often fueled by alcohol. But this time, when we went to the residence and were let into the apartment, we got a surprise

An intense argument was going on between a man and his wife, but it was sort of low key—intense, but with no obscenities. The place was neat and well kept, and we quickly determined there had been no physical violence.

We told them to stop fighting, and they did. The man was tipsy, but he was just standing there, and the mother sat on a couch with her little boy on one side and her daughter on the other. She was weeping quietly, and the little boy was stroking her hair, trying to make her feel better.

We wondered what was going on. These were not bad people like so many we met. There was something wrong, but we didn’t know what it was yet. We were determined not to leave until we found out what was going on so, the father took us aside and very sheepishly told us what the problem was.

I was feeling a lot of pressure. I got drunk and gambled away the supper money I had. We weren’t able to eat dinner. We started to argue.

Sometimes as a cop you are half social worker and half referee. We listened, nodded, and then I had an idea. We’re going out for a little while, I said to the family, But we’ll be back.

We left and went out onto Knickerbocker Avenue. We found an all night pizza joint and got a pie and some soda and went back to the residence. The little boy was waiting for us. To this day, I can remember him framed in a window, so excited that we came back. We stayed awhile, talking, having a sort of good time because now we knew they wouldn’t go to bed hungry and nobody would get locked up. I remember thinking they were all just good people trapped in a tough life.

We had another 4 x 12 tour the next night and had another idea. We bought a dozen donuts and some chocolate milk and brought them to the house. The family was so surprised to see us, and again, we lit up that little boy’s eyes. I could see that he kept looking at me.

The years went by, and I got reassigned and did what we all do in our lives. I became a lieutenant, and one day in 1997, I was in my office, and there was a knock on the door.

C’mon in, I said. The door opened and it was a rookie. He was really sharp. Clean, pressed uniform, spit-shined shoes, polished brass, trimmed hair—the works

You probably don’t remember me, he said, But I remember you. You’re the reason I became a cop.

You guessed it. It was the little boy from the domestic dispute.

You and your partner helped me and my family out so much then. To me you seemed like Superman, so I decided the best way to help people was to become a cop, like you. My family always talked about those two cops who helped us.

You know, I said, I remember now. You lived around Putnam Ave.

That’s right.

So how’s the family?

Good. Very good. We moved to Queens awhile ago, and my younger sister is going to graduate from high school this year. And then he showed me a picture of him and his folks at his graduation from the Academy.

How’d you find me?

I never forgot your name, and when I was in the academy I tracked you down. I found out you were a lieutenant, and I knew there was something I had to do.

What’s that?

He stood up straight as an arrow and saluted me. I gave him a hug, and I noticed that he had a tear in his eye. I did too. After he was gone, I thought about it. A pizza, some soda, a box of donuts—a little kindness—and a life gets changed forever.

The Greatest Thing of All

Back in 1995, I was assigned to run a detail at St. Patrick’s Cathedral. Pope John Paul II was coming to America, and he was going to visit St. Pat’s. I was thrilled.

We practiced our security procedures, and