Thruway Trooper: Purple Ties and Division Lies

By TPR. Seamus Lyons

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• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Mar 19, 2023
• ISBN: 9781669871132

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Copyright © 2023 by Seamus Lyons.

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Rev. date: 03/17/2023

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CONTENTS

Chapter 1 The Job

The Big Job (NYPD)

The Journey Begins

Graduation

Chapter 2 New Beginnings

SP Monroe (Closer to Home)

The New Guy (Home)

Cases

SP Chazy

SP Monroe—2000

Chapter 3 December 2001

Some Interesting Cases

12-06-02: Man, That’s a Lot of Heroin

June 2003: I Hope I Don’t Get Poison Ivy

Outlaw MC Clubs

Did You Smell That? 102 Pounds of Marijuana

Chapter 4 Foot Pursuits

The Missing Evidence Scandal—2011

Teaching Advanced Criminal Interdiction Racial Profiling

Gordon Diggle, Wapakoneta, Ohio, Murder Suspect

The Race Card

The Price We Pay—March 2014

The Missing Evidence Continued

I Really Don’t Feel Well

Is That A Dead Body In Your Back Seat?

Ending Continued

Most Popular

A culture of corruption amid the ranks through failed leadership and political interference. This is my fight to battle the ivory tower and a quest for internal justice and battle corruption. I was a highly decorated NY trooper who exposed scandals within my agency and would not lie for the NY State Police. This is my true story.

It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat. Thank you -484.

—Theodore Roosevelt

The job is like a whore that will never love you back.

Without struggle and resolve, there is no progress.

Even when wronged, believe in what is right.

—Seamus A. Lyons

On January 26, 1969, my beloved parents, James J. Lyons and Mary Theresa-Beacon Lyons of the Bronx, welcomed me into the Lyons family. I was given the proud strong Irish name of Seamus (James) Anthony Lyons, and I was the youngest of four siblings. My brother, Brian, was the eldest along with Gerianne and Mary Bridget. I would begin my new life in a small little town in Nanuet, New York, in what was considered upstate New York, Rockland County. It is located approximately twenty-five miles north of New York City. I came from a large Irish family and was considered middle class. Rockland County had its advantages and disadvantages. I was able to see firsthand how my parents wanted the best for their four children. My mother was a stay-at-home mom and did her very best to instill in me and my siblings what to expect in life and right from wrong.

My father was more of a disciplinarian but wanted the best for all his children. He had strong values, was a proud Irishman, liked his drink, and was a veteran of World War II. He would join the New York City Police Department in 1959 after his return from the navy and some miscellaneous jobs. I believe that was one of the many reasons he moved us out of the big city. He was seeing firsthand the drug epidemic along with crime on the rise. He again wanted what was best for the family and moved us to Rockland County, New York. It was the path from the big city to the suburbs. My mother, Mary T. Beacon, was an only child and grew up in Manhattan. My mother’s parents, Jimmy and Delia Beacon, were two hardworking Irish immigrants. Jimmy Beacon worked in NYC as an elevator operator. Delia Beacon worked many hard years in a factory in NYC in the garment district at the American Tobacco Company. They were my beloved grandparents. I miss them dearly.

My father’s parents passed away when I was very young, but I do have fond memories of them from when I was a small child along with stories told by my mother and father. My father, James Lyons, was a hard worker and was the youngest of four siblings. He had two brothers and one sister. He grew up in Manhattan and was part of the Manhattan Thirty-Eighth Street; old St. Gabriel Parish, now the Queens Midtown Tunnel. My father at a very young age enlisted into the navy because his two brothers were already serving during World War II. He served his time on a naval carrier in the South Pacific and returned home to marry my mother. My father passed away in 2009, and I was happy to spend time with him before he passed. I miss him every day and know he is with me in spirit.

I grew up in Rockland County, New York, in a small town called Nanuet, a hamlet situated in the town of Clarkstown. I lived in a middle-class neighborhood in a small four-bedroom cape home. I shared this house with two elder sisters and one elder brother. We all attended Nanuet schools and, for the most part, led a normal childhood. In my early years, attending school was fun and exciting for me. Like every other child growing up, I enjoyed TV, playing, superheroes, playing sports, and your average childhood activities. I attended high school in the late 1980s; I enjoyed my classes and, like everyone else, could not wait for school to be over.

In my early years, I found myself often bored and, for the most part, became preoccupied with after-school activities and hanging out with friends. I worked part-time jobs after school at an early age. The main purpose was to make extra money, and my parents were not handing out money. I always had a good work ethic and liked having a few extra dollars in my pocket. My father was the sole provider in my family, and my mother was the stay-at-home mom taking care of four children.

We did not have much money, but both my parents would do their very best to provide for us. My father would work and spend his hard-earned money on his children and paying bills. We didn’t take many vacations or trips, and if we did, it was as we got older and paid our own way.

In the late 1980s, I took the basic high school curriculum courses along with the basic outside courses offered at the time. It was primarily up to me to apply for college and set my goals. Don’t get me wrong, we had guidance counselors, but I never kept up with grades. I did get by with my steady B, C, and I did get the occasional A in one or two classes. I think for the most part the poor grades came from not applying myself and really not caring. When I was a freshman, I worked in a local paint store stocking shelves and, on other days, found myself working the night shift in a plant store for four hours. This made it difficult to continue to participate in sports and after-school activities. I attended school during the day and worked part time until 9:00 p.m. Afterward, I would head home or end up out with a group of friends. I never really put concentration in future plans or college.

The next day, I would do it all over again. I did this through all four years in high school but still found time to attend parties, hang out with friends, or attend the weekend football games. Working was fun for me because I was satisfied being independent, having money in my pocket, and not relying on others. Looking back now, I could have studied harder and applied myself to get a better education. Pulling the B and C average was easy in HS and occasionally the A when I applied myself. I don’t think I was lazy, but I became bored easily in school. The early years were more of a party atmosphere for me. Reflecting back now, I don’t really have any regrets. At times, I felt myself becoming easily distracted or just not being able to obtain and absorb all the information. Maybe I just had attention deficit hyperactivity disorder. I don’t really know. As I got older, it became easy for me to read and comprehend written material, and school was just something I wanted to get over with. When I applied myself, I really found myself successful and was even able to complete college and three separate police academies.

The majority of my teachers were understanding and really wanted me to succeed. I completed my classes and did not put any real thought in attending college. I just wanted to focus more on earning an honest living than attending college for another four years. I had many friends throughout my high school years and the following years after. I still keep in touch with many of them today.

Unfortunately, some have passed on, and others I have just lost touch with. In the early years, like most young kids growing up, I played T-ball, Little League, and other kid-friendly sports. In high school, I attempted to play sports by joining the baseball team and the lacrosse team. This did not work out for me because I was preoccupied with working, making money, having a girlfriend, and hanging out with friends. I loved sports and followed them passionately. I am a die-hard Yankee fan and Giants fan, still to this day. High school was both a fun time and at times a difficult time for me. I focused on learning, doing the bare minimum of what was asked, and meeting new people. The teachers did the best they could, and I had a friendly relationship with most of them.

It was not difficult for me to do the work, but at times I felt preoccupied. It was common practice and the norm to start your school week by attending classes and gearing up for the weekend party, sporting event, or even a trip to the Village in NYC. I attended many Yankee games and Giant games. The so-called parties would be either at someone’s house, a park, or a keg of beer in Steep Hill woods. This played on all through high school. It was not difficult to attend school and get by doing the bare minimum.

This was the late ’80s, so basically you took a few classes along with the occasional study hall. I don’t think they even have study halls today. The main purpose of a study hall was to catch up on homework or get extra help. No one ever did. It was a time to get out of school and grab a quick bite to eat or hit the local McDonald’s before returning back to school. I did not achieve the best grades in high school but managed with a steady B average. I could not wait for high school to be over and could not see myself going away for another four years of college.

I managed my time and school and would have been accepted to more colleges if I chose to discipline myself and apply myself. I had no plans on leaving home and attending college; nor did I have the money to pay for school. My parents were financially strapped, and we were living on my father’s salary as a New York City police officer. My mother did her best raising four growing children in a small four-bedroom home.

During this time, I was saving a little money and even had a small bank account. My parents would always make sure I had some money in my pocket and were supportive. I had a steady girlfriend in high school, whom I started dating in March 1985. I spent a majority of my time either with her, attending school, working, or spending time with friends. She was not very supportive of me or my future plans, and we parted ways.

Believe me, it was for the better. I began dating my current wife, Judy, whom I love dearly and who is my true soul mate. Judy and I share three beautiful boys together: Jack, Aedan, and Logan—the true joys in my life. I thank God for giving me three beautiful children. My eldest son, Jack, was diagnosed early on with a severe peanut allergy and carries an EpiPen on him all the time in case epinephrine injection is needed. It was something I really was not familiar with and both my wife and I educate ourselves with every day. It could be a deadly allergy if precautions are not taken. Millions of children and adults suffer from this type of allergy.

My second son, Aedan, is very high strung and a bundle of energy. My youngest son, Logan, is also very active, and all three remind me of a combination of myself when I was their age in some way.

In 1987, I was a senior in Nanuet High School, and my father had been retired from the NYPD since 1979. He was currently working as the head of security at Lakeside School in Chestnut Ridge, New York. It was a school for inner city youth. My dad was a hard worker, six feet, two inches, two hundred pounds, but at times would find himself having to release the everyday stress by indulging in the bottle. He would continue battling the bottle for several years before finally quitting cold turkey. One day, he said he had enough and just stopped drinking and smoking cigarettes. My mother was never much of a drinker but did smoke two packs of cigarettes a day. I was happy to see both my parents quit smoking.

Both made conscious decisions to stop smoking as well. From that day forward, they would both never have another drink or smoke another cigarette.

My elder brother, Brian, had graduated from Nanuet High School in 1980 and attended Rockland Community College while working full time. He had always wanted a career in police work and law enforcement from a young age. He had taken and passed many police officer exams, and he, like my old man, had a passion for being a cop. He had not been offered a job and was still in the process of taking exams. He took it a step further by traveling out of state to Florida and applied to numerous police departments there.

While he was waiting to hear back from Florida, he was notified that he was accepted to the NYPD. He still had to pass a mini medical before starting the six-month academy. He later learned that the NYPD medical staff had denied him because they felt he had a hearing problem in one of his ears. This was just one of the many hurdles you face when applying for these types of jobs. He would later be medically cleared and be accepted to the NYPD.

When the NYPD finally accepted him, he was offered a police officer job with the City of Mount Vernon Police Department in Westchester County, New York. In 1985, he graduated from the Westchester County Police Academy and started his career with the City of Mount Vernon Police Department. My mother and father attended his graduation and stood with him on stage, gleaming ear to ear. My dad was very proud of him and was happy to see him follow in his footsteps.

I was getting ready for the summer and was hoping to land a full-time job after graduation doing construction. Many of my friends would be attending college abroad, and many would be taking on full-time jobs. Looking back now, I should have applied myself more and strived for better grades. My high school years are filled with fond memories of my youth, some good and some bad.

Some of my friends had gone on to get themselves in trouble, and they would continue to get in trouble even after high school. I guess this is just the cycle of life, and some people never really grow up. When I reflect back to the many times that I was with some of these people when they engaged in reckless acts, unknown to me at the time, I’m pretty lucky. They were not serious acts at the time: breaking a window, taking a case of beer, egg tossing on mischief night, fighting, or even running down the halls of our school in the late hours after a home game. These are childish mistakes that we made and live with today. We were by far not all angels.

I strongly believe that all kids make mistakes, and it is how they are dealt with that makes them a better person. In my youth, I made many mistakes in my early years and always knew that bad decisions come with severe consequences. Growing up in a police household, this was instilled at an early age. You add peer pressure and immaturity to the mix, and it could be a recipe for disaster.

I had been returned home one late night during the school year in a police car after being out late with friends, driving after 9:00 p.m., and being at some off-limits location after a home game with alcohol. Nothing a quick talk with Dad couldn’t correct or usually could be settled with a swift kick to the ass. Through the years, I have come to deal with many life-changing experiences; through it all, I can honestly say, I have no regrets. Later on in life, while being a police officer, I would on occasion see people I attended school with in my younger years.

I remember several of my teachers at the time telling me to stay focused and set goals early on in life. When you are young, I really don’t think you take full advantage of what school can offer and your peers. Growing up in a small community like I did, you get to see firsthand the results one can achieve if you set your mind to it. It was not that I was lazy but definitely preoccupied. You have to take the good with the bad. One day after returning back to school from a late lunch, one particular teacher pulled me and two other friends aside. This teacher berated us. He told us we never listened and had a carefree attitude compounded with laziness. He took us out of class and proceeded to bang our three heads together. I was seeing stars.

He ended his full-blown verbal attack on us by telling us we would never amount to anything and would most likely end up being criminals. I think he didn’t really have a liking for us. He was abusive in nature and at times could be somewhat of a bully. Those three young boys went on to become successful law enforcement officers in three separate police agencies. It all goes to prove that if you set your mind to something and strive for what you want in life, you can achieve it. Stay focused on what is right. I could have done anything I wanted to do in my younger years but chose a career in public service. Not because I had to but because I wanted to do something meaningful.

I would have the opportunity many years later to run into the very same teacher in 2002 while being a New York state trooper and working on the Palisades Interstate Parkway. After approaching the car I had stopped for a traffic violation, I immediately recognized him. I requested the operator to produce his license and registration for the vehicle. I let him fumble for the paperwork I requested, and he provided me with every excuse possible for his speed. I let him sit for a while before I reapproached the car, never letting on who I was. A check of his license revealed his license was currently suspended and he was what some refer to as a persistent violator. I again let him explain why he was having issues with his driving and his license status.

I was quick to point out that I was one of his students back in 1987. He went on to say to me that he remembered me along with the friends I hung around with. He never mentioned the fact that he had banged our heads together or the fact that he had made comments about our future plans. After hearing his reasons and how his personal life took somewhat of a spiral downfall, I left him with a warning and piece of free advice. It’s funny how life works out. I would later share this story with my two other friends from high school at our high school reunion. We all shared a good laugh.

Being from a small town and a small school, I was close with the majority of my classmates. I got along with everyone. In the 1980s, you had classifications of youth. You had your jocks, heads, misfits, drug addicts, and all-around good people. I considered the misfits just misunderstood—not bad people once you get to know them. When it comes down to it, we are all people. In the late ’80s, everyone was experimenting with alcohol, smoking pot, and some even used cocaine. It was definitely a party atmosphere in the 1980s. I got along with everyone.

As I sit and write this today, I have just returned from a funeral service of a girl I had graduated with and was friends with. She passed away from health issues. We had not spoken in some time but reconnected through Facebook. Today, I live in the town where I grew up and live in a house where I can see my old high school. I stop by the school on many occasions to run the track after a workout and can’t help but reflect back on the days of yesteryear. I remember making up gym class, which consisted of walking laps around the track that I now love to run. I have had the opportunity to bump into people out of my class or even a year or two younger that have dealt with tragedy and heartbreak.

I have lost many colleagues from my class, and in the course of writing this book, I have seen students out of my class who died from acute alcohol poisoning, being stabbed to death, suicide, and cancer. It makes me look at life with uncertainty and fear. I thank God for what he has given me and blessed me with every day. I consider myself both lucky and blessed to have the opportunity to be employed in a career path that I truly love and have the love and support from my beautiful wife and children. I now know why my father would always say the same things over and over to me as a young adult growing up in an Irish household. He was constantly instilling in me that everyday life changes and would sound like a broken record, repeating such statements to me as, You will understand when you get a little older, Wait until you have kids of your own, Do you need every light on in the house? It is for your own good, You kids get away with bloody murder, Be home at a decent hour, Because I said ‘no,’ Do what makes you happy, or, my favorite, You need a swift kick in the ass, and, my personal favorite, You all lucky you have a roof over your head.

This is my story along with a series of events that forever changed my life and the lives of others. The next series of events, stories, facts, and arrests are detailed through hard work, dedication, along with my personal experiences and the assistance of my coworkers. They are true, documented, and in some cases could have had deadly consequences. I have learned from my mistakes and have always used that to make me a better person and a better cop. I have not steered away from the truth or provided any false testimony in the events that have changed my life. The events and testimony I provide you with contain deceit, betrayal, and, in some cases, plain corruption in the very organization I was employed by along with the governor’s office.

It was not until joining the ranks of the New York State Police that I witnessed firsthand the twisted turn of events that would forever change my life and the lives of others. This is not a story but facts combined with humor, sadness, lies, and deceit. I hope you find it entertaining, but for me and some of my colleagues, it was a real-life nightmare experience—a shocker of sorts combined with facts, conspiracy, cover-ups, and outright proven lies. It will show the misdirection of the law and a clear picture of individuals who should have been arrested and put in prison. Some events would also lead to death or suicide.

The main individuals in this twisted real-life saga who played an important part in my life are true individuals. With their permission, I have used their true identities. A majority of names have been changed ever so slightly. I refer to certain individuals as characters. These characters are fictional, though they are passing reference to actual persons within the NY State Police. I will never really understand the motives behind the madness and why these certain individuals found joy in misery. I have prepared these events and life-changing events in a sequence that I have personally been involved in. I hope you enjoy them.

CHAPTER 1

THE JOB

After graduating high school in June 1987 and surviving the ’80s, I immediately enrolled in Rockland Community College, the local community college in Rockland County, where I had already obtained college credits in high school. This was like going back to high school for another semester, or what I referred to as the thirteenth grade. I was seeing a large number of my friends and local students from the adjoining school in Pearl River. It was the late 1980s and still had a party atmosphere. I attended school part time and had to hold down two jobs. I worked long hours, taking on manual labor work because I could not tolerate being in an office. I found myself working hard and attending school during the day and night classes. I was still managing my time and trying to get a life plan together.

I held many part-time jobs, including being a truck driver, carpet installer, warehouse laborer, forklift operator, sheet rocker, mason, mail carrier, laborer, landscaper, union driver, and even a bridge painter. These are just a few of the jobs I held early on. Through it all, I had a lot of fun but still was not focused enough on getting a full-time job. I had many opportunities to get in the business field but just did not have the drive for it. I did enjoy working outdoors and being my own boss. I still lived at home for a couple of years after high school and had a steady girlfriend, now my wife. I was saving a little money, not much, and had a small bank account.

My parents were pretty lenient on me and did not ask for much. I guess I really started thinking about my future late in life but still had no idea what I wanted careerwise. In high school, I was like any other young adult and did not have future plans. Many of my friends went off to college, and I chose to go to work. This seemed to be the norm with many Irish families. It was not that I didn’t enjoy school, but it was more of a social hangout for me. I did the least amount possible and got by with my Bs and Cs. I would occasionally get an A, but it wasn’t often. I liked reading in school and enjoyed the reading assignments but hated the work. I found that retaining information was easy for me, but putting it to paper was at times difficult for me. Teachers would often tell me to just apply myself and make a decent effort. Looking back, I wish I did more, and took the education I was getting more seriously.

While attending high school in the late ’80s, you usually had a schedule of your basic mandatory classes, with a study hall or two thrown into the schedule. The purpose of the so-called study halls was for doing homework or studying. It never worked out that way. In my junior and senior years, I had study hall for the first period and the last period of the day. What this meant for me and most of the classmates was you could sleep in late and leave earlier in the afternoon before dismissal. I should have crammed another two classes in that period. My junior and senior year, I added some classes as extra credit to get transferable college credits after graduating high school. RCC accepts them toward your future college credits.

My father set up an arithmetic chart that hung in full view from our Frigidaire written in black permanent marker. I had to see it every day when I stepped into the kitchen. I actually learned my multiplication chart by studying this chart even though it was a little embarrassing at times. In high school, I never gave much thought to my future plans. Being from an Irish family of cops, firemen, railroad workers, and anything related to civil service, it seemed it was meant to be.

Many of my friends had taken civil service exams such as the NYPD exam and FDNY exam. I figured I would take the NYPD exam since I really never had a strong desire to be a fireman. I also took the New York State court officer exam. I remember it like it was yesterday when three of my friends and I all drove down to the Bronx and took the exam in my father’s big sky-blue 1979 Chevy Impala station wagon. The test itself was long but not difficult, and we all passed. I remember there were five of us that took the test. About a year later, everyone received calls to attend the NYPD Academy. I decided to put it on hold and did not really apply myself to doing this as a career. Coming from a bloodline of a law enforcement family, the desire to be a police officer was always in my head. This went back as far as my childhood.

I deferred the job for four years, just before my name was removed, and the list had expired. When I finally did commit to the job, I was introduced to the processing procedure. The NYPD background check was pretty intense, and it requires a lot of running around gathering paperwork. My investigator was a police officer assigned out of Queens, and I remember making trips out to see her for yet another piece of paperwork that I had to obtain for her. It seemed like the NYPD was always changing things and requiring me, along with many others, to do their job for them. I remember getting a call saying that some paperwork did not make it in on time, which meant not making it in the summer class. This was no mistake on my part but by my investigating officer.

I interviewed with her for about forty-five minutes and thought to myself, Is she incompetent or just lazy? She provided me with some bullshit story of the paperwork not getting out of her office by 5:00 p.m. on a Friday. I thought to myself, Is this the job I want for the next twenty years? When all was said and done, I completed all the steps necessary for the job as an NYC police officer. It was a character check, along with your basic life history such as school, work, and references.

I put the whole police career thing on hold, and many of my friends started the academy. One particular guy I was processing with was getting his balls broken about some bullshit fight he was involved in during his younger years. We had gone through the entire processing stages, and he got held up on the fight being reviewed. He is now a police officer in the town of Clarkstown. I still see him on a daily basis. He is a good person and a great cop.

The guys and girls I worked with to this day are all still on the job, some in different PDs around the area and some retired. Three left for better-paying jobs in Suffolk County, Clarkstown, and Orangetown, located in Rockland County. I left the door open for the NYPD but continued to work and save money.

My father never pressured me or my elder brother into any law enforcement but did tell me it was a steady job with benefits. My brother, Brian, had graduated from the Westchester County Police Academy in Westchester, New York, and was a police officer in the city of Mount Vernon. My sister Gerianne was married to a police officer working in New York City, who was no ball of fire and was more interested in pursuing his music career. He was definitely in it for the paycheck and benefits. The music career never worked out, and he ended up with a three-fourths tax-free injury that let him retire. He never really had a passion or any interest in doing the job. His father was the chief of police in Nyack, New York. Nyack is a small village twenty-two miles north of New York City. My brother was currently on the Rockland County Police list and was offered a position as a police officer in the village of Nyack.

He left the city of Mount Vernon and started his career with the Nyack Police Department in July 1985. Later on, this department would fold and be taken over by the Orangetown Police Department and Clarkstown Police Department. Brian would leave the Nyack PD and start his new career as an Orangetown police officer in 1989. He retired in 2008 with over twenty-two years of police experience.

He is now employed as a police officer with the Village of South Nyack-Grandview Police Department. It’s funny how things come full circle. After obtaining a degree in criminal justice and now working full time, I had to make a decision on what I would choose as a career path. The girl I was dating, now my wife, would also be finished with college and start her teaching career. I made the decision to take the police test, which would change my life forever. I purchased a local newspaper and applied for the upcoming police exam. I would take the NYPD exam a second time, the Rockland County exam, the Westchester County exam, and the Orange County exam. I took the NYPD exam for practice to get a better feel for the exam I wanted to do well on. I passed the NYPD (again) with a score of 99 percent. Looking back, I think they just did not want to give me 100 percent because I was not a city resident. Oh, well. I did well on the Rockland exam with a score of 90 percent. When I took the Rockland County Police exam, I cross-filed along with several other agencies including the Rockland Sheriff’s Department. I remember it took some time to be notified of the results, and job offers were few, unless you had a big hook.

At the time I received my results, I was steadily working for the New York State Thruway Authority as a bridge laborer. The pay was good along with benefits. I had been with them for a few years now and had settled in nicely. During this time, I became good friends with a few state troopers who told me to take the police job and if I don’t like it, I can quit. I attended a law enforcement symposium at Rockland Community College offered by the Rockland County Sheriff’s Department. After discussing my future plans with him and having him as an instructor in college, I made the decision to give the law enforcement career a harder look. A few weeks later, my brother, Brian, notified me and informed me that the Rockland County Sheriff’s Department was currently accepting applications for employment as long as you had a passing score on the exam and was a resident. I was both a resident and achieved a passing score of 90 percent. I also had a strong interest in this. I applied and met with the sheriff for what I consider a good learning experience.

The interview process was long and drawn out. I was notified via phone that I was accepted and was offered a temporary position within the sheriff’s department upon the completion of twenty-four weeks in the Rockland County Police Academy. After discussing this with my now fiancée, she and I would agree that I would give it a shot. I had earned a degree in criminal justice from Rockland Community College and even earned several credits toward a business degree. The plan was to finish college and continue on to law school. This never played out for me.

I took a break from work and school and started the police academy in February 1996. It was cold. I remember standing in the parking lot prior to being inspected and thinking, What the hell did I get myself into? This was a new career path for me. The doors opened from the academy, and all hell broke loose. A group of at least five drill instructors approached us and ripped us apart. Nothing you could do was right, and everything you did was wrong. I remember being in good shape and getting mentally set up for this new challenge. The first week was tough, and you slowly see people being dropped and asked to leave the facility. We started with a group of thirty-two and graduated with twenty-six probationary police officers. These months went by very slowly and were filled with hard work that required you to attend the academy all week and complete numerous amounts of homework.

The Sheriff’s Department put eleven people off the county list along with the remaining people from other agencies throughout the county, including some from Orange County. I enjoyed hands-on learning and had never fired a handgun before attending the academy.

I still lived at home, so commuting wasn’t a problem. It only took me twenty minutes to get to the facility, and I was introduced to some new people who were in my platoon. I still keep in touch with them today: Damien Twomey, who left and took a PD job in Vegas (I still don’t know how he deals with the heat); Angus Mackenzie, who left for the NYPD (retired detective); Dan Lungen, who is now a detective with the sheriff’s department and a licensed pilot; and Manny Figueroa, who is a sergeant with the Town of Haverstraw PD. As it would turn out, half of the people moved on to other law enforcement jobs. As graduation was getting near, I was approached by a friend who informed me that the Orangetown PD would soon be hiring. My brother, Brian, was now working for this department after starting his career in Westchester County and was very involved with the PBA (Police Benevolent Association). Here was my dilemma. I did want to work for this PD, thinking at the time that this was the best job around, good paying and close to home. I was already in the academy and would not have to be paid for training, hence saving the department some money.

At the same time, I had spoken with a sergeant in the Village of Piermont Police Department who stated that they would be hiring two new police officers through a federal grant. These positions would be considered part-time provisional pending full-time hiring. It was all political and just ended up knowing whom you knew at the time. It could be the mayor, director of personnel, even the chief of the department. I interviewed with the Piermont Police Department along with about fourteen other applicants. I can say now that it was a good thing having relatives on the job. My brother, Brian Lyons, Orangetown police officer, obtained me for the interview and put a good word in with the chief, Tom Gaynor. The only other applicant I met was Bob Trois, whose brother Dave Trois was a Clarkstown police officer, also a friend. After interviewing with the chief and going out for a few cold ones with Bobby Trois, I did not hear back from the chief right away.

I graduated from the police academy and was in the best shape of my young adult life. I took a break to get married, and during this time, my wedding was set for May 23, 1997. My wife, Judy, was working as a special education teacher in the Suffern School district with a good starting salary. On the night of my wedding, the traditional Irish bagpipers entered the reception hall in New Rochelle, and I noticed that one of the pipers was the chief of police, Tom Gaynor. It was here that I was informed that I would be offered the position as a police officer with the Village of Piermont Police Department. Piermont was a small village that was approximately fifteen miles north of NYC. I gladly accepted and continued my celebration throughout the evening. I could not wait to obtain a job offer with the Orangetown Police Department because my brother was bumping heads with the chief because of his involvement with the PBA. Brian fought hard for the men and women within the Orangetown Police Department. Another factor that weighed heavily on my mind was the fact that I wrote the same score as a person who was also interested in the job. The problem was his father was a very powerful politician in the community.

I would turn down job offers with police departments in Westchester County such as the city of White Plains, Mount Vernon, and Yonkers. Needless to say, the guy whose father was a councilman in Orangetown got the job over everyone else. He would later leave the job after a few years because of personal reasons and an internal investigation into his conduct as a police officer. I started my career with the Piermont PD and can honestly say that it was a fun job. It was a small department, and the guys were great. My training sergeant was Michael O’Shea, now retired chief O’Shea, who could be a little intense at times. He was big on the DWIs (driving while intoxicated). The other members were a great group of guys, from Steve O’leary, now a sergeant; Bernard Brown; Bobby Trois; Ken Marren; Brian Holihan; Richard Lynch; and the then chief Tom Gaynor. I worked there for a little over two years before moving on to the NYPD.

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