Tuesday November 14, 2006 8:23 PM

Chief Scrooge - Bruce Tait

“Spare no expense to save money on this one” – Samuel Goldwyn (1882-1974)

So, I got my copy of the Quincy Sun the other day, and the water I was drinking when I read the front page nearly came out through my nose. The headline proclaimed that Quincy was the second-safest city in Massachusetts, which is something any Quincy Police Officer will tell you is highly unlikely. Pravda’s Ministry of Truth must have worked overtime on this one, because our call volume has increased dramatically since I’ve been here, and the 4-12 shift just doesn’t seem the same without at least one armed robbery a night. Or, perhaps the crime statistics were taken from the highly-censored “Quincy Police Hot Spots” in the Quincy Sun.

Of course, if you live in Hough’s Neck and own a vehicle, there’s a good chance you’re fuming right about now, and with good reason. Why? Because on the morning of November 8th, there was an armed home invasion and 13 vehicles broken into during the night down Hough’s Neck. To protect the victim’s identity, I’ll leave out the address of the armed home invasion, but here’s a rundown of where the cars were broken into;

45 Bayview Avenue
15 Bell Street
24 Bell Street
3 Edgewater Drive
7 Edgewater Drive
9 Edgewater Drive
121 Edgewater Drive
137 Edgewater Drive
43 Macy Street
1135 Sea Street
120 Turner Street
201 Winthrop Street
202 Winthrop Street

Care to hazard a guess as to whether you’ll see all this in the “Hot Spots” column? There’s exactly two chances of that happening…..none, and none.

You may be saying to yourself, what the hell was the police officer assigned to Hough’s Neck doing all night? The big problem is that there was no police officer assigned to Hough’s Neck that night. You see, Chief Sandy refuses to allow overtime hiring to ensure adequate police coverage in the city. His penny-pinching is pathological, and will no doubt contribute to a police officer getting hurt someday. Not that he cares.

Now, like many police departments, the cost of hiring an officer on overtime depends on how long the officer has been on the department, what level of education they have, and whether they work nights or days. Even calculating the highest-paid officer, it would have cost a little over $350 to have covered the Hough’s Neck sector that evening. That might sound like a lot at first, but I’d be willing to bet the 13 people who had their vehicles broken into wouldn’t flinch a bit. I’m certain the victim of the armed home invasion wouldn’t complain. In the grand scheme of things, it’s a mere pittance, especially considering that Sandy has returned almost 2 million (yes, million) dollars to the city treasury in the last two fiscal years.

On occasion, I’ll hear a firefighter say a bad word about their chief, and I just want to shake them. In that same time period, the Quincy Fire Department returned about $35,000 to the treasury, and that was most likely just a safety cushion.

Two million vs. thirty-five thousand. Two million dollars unspent, while we’re driving junk cruisers, and crime runs rampant in a section of the city Sandy apparently deems expendable.

After I get done shaking them, I’d like to ask the firefighters what it’s like to have a chief that actually cares about them. Sometimes I get the feeling I’ll never know.

Tuesday November 14, 2006 2:06 AM

Ethics.....ethics.....ethics. - Bruce Tait

“When men are pure, laws are useless; when men are corrupt, laws are broken” – Benjamin Disraeli

Those of you who read the Patriot Ledger know I’ve been a busy little beaver lately. In the Ledger’s latest weekend edition, there was a story on how I was still plugging away at getting the financial disclosure that Chief Robert Crowley, a.k.a. Sandy, was legally required to file as part of his appointment to the Quincy College Board of Governors. You can read the article by copying & pasting this link into your browser;









http://ledger.southofboston.com/articles/2006/11/11/news/news12.txt

Now, while that article is a very fair representation of what’s going on, it also left a lot of relevant information out. As someone said to me in an e-mail, it seems like Ledger reporters have to stick to a rigid word count on certain stories, and the readers are often left wanting more. Fortunately for you, and for fairness in general, I have no such restrictions on word counts, so I can lay it all out for you.

To review: On December 1st, 2005 Sandy was appointed to the Quincy College Board of Governors, which is like the board of directors for the college, the college being a quasi-city entity. It used to be governed by the Quincy School Committee until the New England Association of Schools & Colleges, the college’s accreditor, made it known they wanted an independent board.

Being an alumnus of Quincy College, I take an interest in what they do, so when I saw advertisements in the Quincy Sun for interested persons being appointed to the Board of Governors, I read the entire ad. Because I was planning on running for union president, I decided to not apply myself, but when I heard Sandy was appointed, I instantly remembered the advertisements stated “Full Financial Disclosure Required” of all those appointed. Realizing what an ace in the hole I had, I filed that away in the Rolodex of my brain, waiting for an opportunity to spring it on Sandy.

Now, when the advertisements stated a financial disclosure was required, that wasn’t just window dressing. It’s state law, specifically the Special Acts of 1994, Chapter 53, Section 2. That law, passed by the legislature and signed by the governor, requires that people appointed to the Quincy College Board of Governors file a full financial disclosure within 30 days of being appointed to the board, AND within 30 days of leaving the board. Would you care to guess whether Sandy did either?

Of course, he didn’t.

The Quincy Police Chief is in violation of state law.

The Quincy Police Chief is in violation of state law.

The Quincy Police Chief is in violation of state law.

The Quincy Police Chief is in violation of state law.

That is sufficiently outrageous that I thought it necessary to mention it several times. Do you really understand exactly how outrageous that is? The head of law enforcement for the City of Quincy has broken the law, and is currently breaking the law. For each day he doesn’t file the financial disclosure, he’s in violation of state law.

Keep in mind; this is the same person who holds his patrol officers to incredibly high, but ever-changing, arbitrary standards. This is the same person who seizes the duty weapons and revokes the gun permits of patrol officers, based solely on specious “evidence” that will most likely eventually cost the City of Quincy many thousands of dollars in civil judgments. This is the same person who completely fabricated criminal charges from his bedroom, resulting in a patrol officer being fired. This is the same person who relegated the most highly decorated Quincy Police Officer to desk duty, because he scuffed the bumper of another car while he was responding to an armed robbery call, where he single-handedly captured 3 of the 4 suspects. This is the same person who ordered himself a spankin’ new Ford Explorer while his patrol officers were driving literal rolling death traps. This is the same person who returned almost 2 million dollars to the city over the last 2 years, while his patrol officers drove unsafe cruisers, had portable radios that didn’t work, and had to deal with unsafe staffing levels.

I freely admit I’m in uncharted waters here, so I decided to start my complaint process at the lowest possible level, which is the Massachusetts State Ethics Commission. I filed a formal written complaint with them concerning Sandy not filing the disclosure form, and while they were very helpful, I eventually learned they have no jurisdiction on matters of a city requiring a financial disclosure.

Lesson learned. No problem.

My next step is to file a complaint with the Quincy City Solicitor’s Office, since this is apparently a city matter. I’m enough of a realist to understand this will be a total waste of time, since city hall has made it clear they will protect Sandy at all costs, but I still need to go through the motions for procedural purposes. Once I get the inevitable letter from the city solicitor, tap-dancing about how they can’t do anything, I will move on to the ultimate arbiter of a violation of state law: The Massachusetts Attorney General’s Office.

After I file my complaint with the AG’s Office, this union will take-out huge advertisements in the Boston Herald, Boston Globe, and Patriot Ledger, detailing exactly how Sandy has violated the law, and is violating the law. If the AG’s Office decides to let this die, we intend to make things as uncomfortable as possible for them. If the US Department of Justice needs to be notified of possible public corruption in regards to killing this issue, we will certainly do that.

When I was a rookie police officer in 1988, a “shiny penny”, I was going to save the world. It didn’t take long to become beaten-down by reality. Being a police officer is a rotten, usually thankless job. This is exacerbated, times 100, when you have to serve under a chief of police who not only was NEVER a street cop, but who also flouts the law when it suits him, as Sandy does.

The Quincy Police Chief is in violation of state law.

I really can’t add anything to that, as it speaks for itself.

Thursday November 9, 2006 10:15 PM

An Island Unto Ourselves - Bruce Tait

“Nobody can tell you if what you're doing is good, meaningful or worthwhile. The more compelling the path, the more lonely it is” – Hugh McLeod

When I was a kid, my family and I would spend our summer vacation in Plymouth, in a little cottage directly on a large pond. Unlike nowadays, we knew almost everyone who had a place on the pond, even those on the far opposite side as us. One of those people lived in Hingham, and was an acquaintance of my father’s. He had a son almost my age, and while I didn’t particularly like him, he was the only boy around in my age bracket, so I spent a lot of time over their place one summer.

They had a huge Great Dane dog, and I mean HUGE. Enormous. You could have probably thrown a saddle on the thing and taken it for a ride, it was so big. I realize things look a lot bigger when you’re small, but I remember the beast weighed well over 200 pounds, so this isn’t just the fog of childhood.

Unfortunately, this dog knew it was freakishly big, and would use its size and power to bully and intimidate other dogs, and even smaller humans (such as yours truly) when he could get away with it. I spent many an uncomfortable moment that summer, cornered against a tree or their shed, about to wet my pants, because this Cujo wanna-be apparently enjoyed terrorizing me, which was a big reason why I eventually stopped going over there.

Even when the beast wasn’t zeroed in on me, I used to watch good-sized dogs, which looked they could take care of themselves, roll over & offer their neck to the Great Dane, without so much as a growl. They just surrendered without even a thought of fighting.

Now, during this summer, I also had a dog, albeit not anything close to the freak of nature across the pond. My dog was an Airedale Terrier, which is sometimes called “King of the Terriers”, because it’s the largest of the terriers. “Large” is relative in this context, since male Airedales usually top-out at around 70 pounds. Mine was definitely on the larger side, about 90-95 pounds, and all muscle. Now, anyone who knows terriers, whether an Airedale or a Jack Russell Terrorist….I mean Terrier, will tell you two things about them;

1) They are absolutely fearless.

2) They all think they weigh about 100 pounds more than they actually do.

One day that summer, after I had stopped going to that kid’s house because of the damn dog, he decided to visit my place. I saw him coming towards our dock in a small boat, and for reasons known only to him, he decided to bring the Great Dane with him (the behemoth nearly capsized the boat). I stood on the end of the dock, waving my arms and yelling for him to not come ashore with the dog, but he was undeterred. Whether he thought it would be funny to see the dog terrorize me again, or he was just completely stupid, I’ll never know, but both he and the dog got the surprise of their lives.

After my “friend” beached his boat, the dog immediately jumped out, and started strutting around like it owned the place, throwing me the occasional growl. Like a bolt of lightning, my dog came tearing around the corner of the cottage, and went right after the Great Dane. He was all over him like a cheap suit, and for 30 seconds, all we could see was fur & saliva flying, teeth gnashing, and a whirlwind of tan, black, and gray. We were throwing buckets of water on the two of them, to no avail.

Finally, the dust (sand, actually) settled, and guess what? My dog had the Great Dane down on the ground, with his teeth around its neck. The Dane was whimpering to my friend, as if to say “Save me”. My dog had teeth like a lion, and could have easily ripped the Dane’s throat out, but for some reason didn’t. I finally managed to pull my dog off, but he continued to bark & lunge at the Dane, who was now bleeding from bite wounds all over its body. I wrestled my dog inside the cottage, and when I came back outside, the bully dog and my (now former) friend were making a big wake back across the pond.

Later that night, the Dane’s owner came over, visiting my father. After about a half-dozen Scotch-on-the-rocks, he commented “Your dog sure kicked my dog’s ass, that’s the first fight he’s ever lost”. My father asked how many actual fights his dog had been in. Thinking for a second, the owner said “That was his first one”, to which my father said, “Exactly”.

Stand-up to a bully, and they fold, every time. My dog gave-up an over 100lb weight difference, but still cleaned house, because bullies don’t know what to do when their bluff is called.

Unfortunately in the Quincy Police Department, our chief is the bully Great Dane, and even more unfortunately, the great majority of the superior officers are the supplicant dogs who just roll-over and offer Sandy their throats, because it’s much more convenient for them to do that, than to actually do the right thing and stand-up for the officers placed under their command.

Oh, sure, we have our share of Airedales among the superior officers, and they know who they are. At first glance, it might be tempting to blame the lack of testicular fortitude in the superior officer ranks on those who never served in the military, where you learn the essence of leadership is standing-up for your men.

However, more than a few Airedales aren’t veterans, so that clearly isn’t the case. For instance, my former sergeant (now a lieutenant), who is the definition of an Airedale, never served a day in the military, but I would jump through a dozen rings of fire, then through a brick wall if he asked, because I know he would do the same for me.

The events of the last 24 hours have started to reveal exactly who the Airedales are, or more appropriately, who the supplicant dogs are. Trust me, we can recognize the difference, and we’re not going to forget it.

On October 28th, I told you all about my new philosophy on traffic enforcement, designed to not “stick it” to the average citizen. I gave this a lot of thought, trying to balance fairness with public safety, and I think I reached an excellent compromise. A lot of my brother & sister officers agreed, and it seems like the ratio of verbal warnings has risen, while the number of written citations has dropped. However, the number of traffic stops has not decreased at all. In fact, the stops have seemed to increase, rather dramatically.

Is that good enough for our fearless leader, Chief Sandy? Of course not. I heard from some Airedales who were at the last staff meeting that Sandy blew a gasket when the citation numbers were not what he wanted. He made all sorts of threats, veiled and otherwise, against both us and the superior officers if the ticket numbers didn’t improve. In other words, he used his typical bully tactics, because he relies on his supplicant dogs to do his dirty work for him.

Example: At this morning’s last-half (12 Midnight-8am) roll call, the shift commander (lieutenant) made it loud & clear he’s a supplicant dog by ordering every member of the shift to write at least one traffic citation during the shift. The officers actually had to check-in with their sergeant at the end of the shift, to make sure they complied.

One big problem: That was an unlawful order. Because a large percentage of that shift is still on probation, I told the union rep to tell everyone to comply with the bogus order, even though they were under no legal obligation whatsoever to do so. To review what I’ve already covered earlier, the decision of what action to take during a traffic stop lies with one person, and that’s the officer making the stop. It doesn’t lie with the sergeant, it doesn’t lie with the lieutenant, it doesn’t lie with the captain, and it certainly doesn’t lie with Sandy.

This isn’t just me talking out my ass; it’s the law, specifically Massachusetts General Law, Chapter 90C Section 3. The law is clear, and if it isn’t clear enough for Sandy and his assorted supplicant dogs, the Appeals Court of Massachusetts has unequivocally ruled on it. You can read the decision here;

http://www.policelaborlaw.com/crimcases/newton1.pdf

It can’t be any clearer, and Sandy knows this. However, he’s relying on his bully tactics and his supplicant dogs to threaten and intimidate the patrol officers into surrendering the discretion bestowed upon them by the law.

A letter was delivered to Sandy’s office today, signed by me, outlining exactly what will happen if this unlawful harassment continues. We will seek immediate relief in Norfolk Superior Court, if appropriate, but since this type of decision has already been decided by two courts (Middlesex Superior and the Appeals Court of Massachusetts), we may well just kick it straight to the Supreme Judicial Court of Massachusetts (state supreme court). We’re not going to tolerate the unlawful bullying and harassment of our members, and sticking with our strategy, we’ll use nuclear weapons to kill a housefly. We plan on full-page advertisements in the Patriot Ledger to inform the public of this unlawful conduct by superior officers of the Quincy Police Department.

Among the things Sandy threatened during the staff meeting was to remove officers from their contractually-protected shift & sector assignments. The problem there is that he needs cause to do this, and exercising legally protected discretion isn’t going to cut it. If he’s stupid enough to try that course of action anyway, he better remember these words:

Uniformity of Discipline.

What he does to one, he has to do to all.

Other threats mentioned were assigning officers to fixed selective enforcement, with a sergeant supervising. Except for a 30 minute meal break, supposedly Sandy is going to have certain officers do nothing but traffic enforcement.

Is that supposed to be a threat? So, I don’t have to spend my nights answering disaster calls at junkie rooming houses and writing a bazillion reports? Where do I sign-up?

Considering I’m probably one of the leaders in verbal warnings lately, I fully expect to be one of the first ones to be targeted for this vindictive foolishness. I’ll be more than happy to pass the night issuing verbal warnings, while documenting the stops on Massachusetts Traffic Stop Data Collection Forms. If the sergeant who’s unlucky enough to be assigned to supervise me orders me to write citations, I’m going to refuse to do it, because it’s an unlawful order. This needs to be settled, once and for all, and being the union president, it’s only fair that I become the test case.

If I didn’t want to be the test case, I’d go to Plan B. Every vehicle I stopped while under the sergeant’s supervision would receive a bumper-to-bumper safety inspection, and every violation would be a civil infraction; lights, wipers, horn, tread depth on tires, you name it. I’d be very disappointed in myself if any vehicle escaped with less than a triple-digit traffic ticket. When the outraged motorists would ask why they got creamed in infractions, I’d point to the sergeant and say “Chief Robert Crowley ordered that sergeant to order me to do it”.

And while I’m on this foolish assignment, I’ll be keeping track of how many Priority-1 calls in my sector are broadcast, that I can’t respond to, because Sandy wants me to write traffic tickets instead of responding to armed robberies and domestics.

What else do ya got, Sandy? Are you going to assign me inside the station? That will be a real bitch, surfing the Internet on my laptop all night. Yeah, you really got me by the short ones there.

Anyway, to the Airedales in the superior officer ranks, thank you. We know who you are, or will find out who you are. You should be proud of the fact you stand up for what’s right.

To the supplicant dogs, I say this; you can’t have it both ways. You can’t pretend to be our buddies and be on our side, while you simultaneously force us to do Sandy’s bidding. The battle lines have been drawn, and if you’re not with us, you’re against us. It’s that simple. And remember, when the bad feelings start permeating 1 Sea Street over this brouhaha, it’s solely because you decided it would be easier and more convenient for you to roll over and offer your neck to Sandy, than to be a true leader of your officers. Believe me; it’s very easy to adjust the fire director of this website to alternate targets. I have no problem naming names, but if you’re a true believer in all things Sandy, you’ll have no problem taking credit for your actions, right?

And, when this siege is over and Sandy is finally gone, we’ll remember who was on our side. Don’t have the unmitigated gall to come to us afterwards, telling us how you were really on our side. The time for action is now, not after he’s gone.

It’s become pretty obvious that with the exception of the few Airedales, we have become an island unto ourselves. That’s just fine, because with some exceptions, I really don’t care what anyone inside 1 Sea Street thinks of me, except for the 151 other members of this union. As I said, if you’re not with us, you’re against us.

After the S.S. Sandy sinks beneath the waves, the supplicant dogs better not try to come ashore on our island, because a good kick in the teeth and a life preserver await them.

Thursday November 9, 2006 1:46 PM

Somebody Stop Me!!!!!! - Bruce Tait

“Egotism is the anesthetic that dulls the pain of stupidity” – Frank Leahy

I received such an overwhelmingly positive response to “Sandy’s Greatest Hits”, that I’ve decided to lay down the next installment, a little ahead of schedule.

File this under “Sandy’s Super Bowl Blowout”.

Back in 2002, Sandy and former Chief Bill Falco were both vying for the permanent chief’s job. Former Chief Tom Frane had been out for months following a heart attack, and Falco was named acting chief after a successive number of captains decided they didn’t want the job. Well, Falco wanted it, but so did Sandy. Falco nearly found out, the hard way, that when you get in-between Sandy and his objective, you’ll end up as grease for his tank treads, if you’re not careful.

So….setting the Wayback Machine to 2002, Falco is the acting chief, and the clear favorite to be named permanent chief. Although that choice is much like deciding execution by lethal injection or the electric chair, the mayor had to eventually choose someone to fill the empty chief’s slot, and lethal injection is somewhat more appealing than Old Sparky.

Sure enough, Falco was named permanent chief on November 4th, 2002, besting Sandy. In a move that he might well have seriously regretted, Falco then named Sandy as his second-in-command, the “operations commander”, a de-facto deputy chief, which I might add, was in violation of a city ordinance that mandates the most senior captain (which Sandy was not at the time) as the acting chief in the chief’s absence.

Now, I have it on VERY good authority that Sandy didn’t take this news well. Not well at all. I mean, REALLY not well…..tears, sobbing, cursing, the whole nine yards. I’m sure it upset him immensely no one else could recognize his greatness, and that Falco now had “his” job.

Fast forward a bit to January 26th, 2003, the Tampa Bay Buccaneers were playing the Oakland Raiders in Super Bowl XXXVII in San Diego. I remember this night, because I was working that evening. Sometime during that night, I forget the exact time, Sandy came over the radio, requesting a bunch of officers meet him at a certain location, again I can’t remember the specifics. The officer I was speaking to at the time and I looked at each other, rolled our eyes, and asked “What now?” Not even our active imaginations could have dreamed up this one.

Sandy led his assault force on the Quincy Sons of Italy Lodge on Quarry Street, ostensibly because he received an “anonymous tip” that there would be underage drinking going on there.

=======(COUGH) BULL****(COUGH)=======

I’d be willing to bet this “anonymous tipster” is the same one who allegedly calls Sandy at all hours of the night to report suspicious incidents that Sandy then calls-in over the police radio, but are NEVER found to be legitimate by the responding patrol units.

My questions;

1) Did Sandy really need to personally investigate something as petty as anonymous allegations of minors drinking? Wouldn’t it have made more sense to simply call the station, and have either the liquor inspector or a patrol unit check things out?

2) Assuming it was necessary for the then-second in command of a 200+ member police department to personally investigate this, did he really need to bring over a half-dozen uniformed officers with him?

3) If it was indeed so serious that the operations commander had to come in when he wasn’t on-duty, why wasn’t Chief Falco notified? That’s a rhetorical question, which I’ll get to later.

4) Underage drinking at the freakin’ Sons of Italy? That place is like a wax museum, I don’t think I’ve seen anyone drinking there that isn’t eligible to join AARP.

Anyway, Sandy and the assault force hit the beach, and lo & behold, what does he find? He really hit the jackpot in regards to criminal activity. He actually found people…….drum roll please…….betting on Super Bowl squares.

Stop the presses, alert the FBI, and tell John Walsh to get his butt on down to Quincy!!! Sandy broke the criminal ring of the century!!!

If you’ve ever been stuck in line, trying to buy a gallon of milk at 7-11 while the person in front of you blows their SSI check on scratch tickets and Megabucks chances, you know that gambling is only acceptable when the state reaps the profits, right?

Anyway, not content to look like a jackass for busting senior citizens playing Super Bowl squares, Sandy proceeds to confiscate all the money present, almost $5,000 in cash. Because Sandy doesn’t know the first thing about being a street cop, or a cop in general, he just stuffed all the money into a bag. He didn’t voucher it, nor did he issue any receipts for the seized money.

What did he do with the money he seized?

Did he enter it into the QPD evidence system, as required by department rules & regulations?

No.

He took it home for the weekend.

No, you’re not seeing things. He took it home, without vouchering it, without issuing any receipts, and without entering it into the evidence system.

I can state unequivocally, without any shred of doubt whatsoever, that if a patrol officer pulled a completely bone-headed move like that, he/she would be lucky to keep their job, and to avoid criminal indictment. Absent termination, something like that would warrant a 6-month suspension, at the very least. Yet, other than being completely embarrassed when the details of his “big caper” came to light, absolutely nothing happened to Sandy, which is yet another example of the thoroughly disgusting double-standard that’s applied to him for his entire career.

After the firestorm hit the police station, Sandy was at the front desk area of the station, stewing over all the negative notoriety he was getting. One of the officers who was on the assault force, our recently deceased brother Jamie Cochrane, asked Sandy;

“Captain, in retrospect, do you really think that was such a great idea?”

I would have had at least a shred of respect for Sandy if he agreed with Jamie, or even told him to shut-up. What was Sandy’s response?

“Someone should have stopped me”.

Did you get that? Someone should have stopped him. Considering he was the second-in-command of the Quincy Police Department at the time, exactly who should have stopped him? Certainly not Chief Falco, because I believe there were more nefarious purposes at work that night than just busting up a Super Bowl squares party.

Think about it…..Sandy was absolutely beside himself because he wasn’t named as the permanent chief. Bill Falco was/is a member of the Sons of Italy. If Sandy stormed into the Sons of Italy, and found Falco with a Super Bowl square in his hand, that could very likely open-up the chief’s position again.

Are the dots connecting now, Bill? Are you still glad you gave so much power to Sandy?

I was sincerely hoping the Sons of Italy admitted to the technically illegal gambling, but insisted they actually had something like $10,000 seized that night. Sandy would have had a jolly old time trying to explain that one, but it was not to be.

I’ve heard that Sandy has again used that classic excuse after several other recent foul-ups, including when he violated a confidentiality agreement in regards to the discipline of members of this union.

Like Jim Carrey said in “The Mask”……Somebody stop me!!!!!!!

ASSORTED NOTES: Be sure to check out our 2 new photo sections under the “Media Gallery”, entitled “QPD in Action” and “Hidden Quincy”. They’re just getting started, and we hope to have more content soon.

Tuesday November 7, 2006 2:29 AM

Sandy's Greatest Hits - Bruce Tait

“Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it” – George Santayana (1863 - 1952)

A frequent question I hear, usually from police officers with other departments, is; “Is your chief really that bad?”

Let me put it to you this way; if even half of what I’ve written here is true, isn’t that enough to convince you? Of course, nothing written here has ever been refuted by the PTB (Powers That Be), because it’s ALL either truth or opinion.

A frequent follow-up question I get is, “Has he always been that bad?” The answer is yes, as bad as he’s been allowed to get away with by whomever has been his superior over the years.

To give you some examples, let’s take a look at some of Chief Sandy’s Greatest Hits. I plan on making this a recurring thing, so I’ll kick off the party with a classic example of Sandy lashing out at a patrol officer before he’s had a chance to think things through, but by the time his brain caught-up with his temper, the damage was already done. Stop me if you’ve heard this before.

Back in 2002, Sandy was still a captain, in charge of the community police (CP) unit. There was one veteran officer who was in the CP Unit, who had spent almost his entire career in the patrol division, and had volunteered to become one of Quincy’s first community police officers. Besides this officer and one or two others who volunteered, the most junior patrol officers were forced into the CP Unit when it was formed, because the job didn’t sound too appealing at the time. However, this officer, even though he had more than enough seniority to stay-put, volunteered to work in the CP Unit, because he wanted to work in the neighborhood where he lived, which is the essence of community policing.

Of course, like most every member of the QPD patrol division, this officer had crossed Sandy in the past, at least in his mind. It doesn’t matter if the slight is real or perceived; Sandy has the memory of an elephant when it comes to holding grudges.

One fine day, this officer reported for duty at his usual time of 12 noon, then left the station in one of the QPD marked cruisers specifically allocated to the community police unit. He volunteered to answer a couple of radio calls when the patrol force got backed-up, which he didn’t have to do, and Sandy saw him driving the cruiser on at least two occasions.

No problem?

Big problem.

The next day, this officer did the same thing as the previous day, that is he started patrolling in one of the CP marked cruisers, the same cruiser Sandy saw him in at least twice the day before. At one point, Sandy called this officer on the radio, telling him he wanted to see him at McIntyre Mall, which is the walkway next to city hall. When Sandy arrived, he was riding shotgun with the lieutenant of the community police unit (now retired).

Sandy confronted this officer, yelling that he didn’t want him to leave McIntyre Mall, and then went off on a tangent about the officer taking a cruiser. This officer reasonably responded he was told nothing about staying at McIntyre Mall at roll call, then asked Sandy why he didn’t say anything about the cruiser the previous day, when he saw the officer in the cruiser at least twice. This set-off another tantrum, and finally Sandy went back to the lieutenant’s car. Turning to another CP officer (now retired), this officer said something to the effect of; “I’ve about had it with this guy”. Apparently, Sandy heard this, and leapt into action.

Jumping out of the lieutenant’s car, he said “That’s it; you’re on administrative leave….again. I want your gun now”. Instantly complying, this officer dropped the magazine from his service pistol, ejected the live round from the chamber, and handed the pistol, butt-first, with the slide locked to the rear, to Sandy. Once he had possession of the weapon, Sandy seemed to short-circuit, probably because he realized he once again stuck his dick into a fan.

This officer tried to hand Sandy his magazines, but now he looked like a confused puppy. He turned to the CP lieutenant, who was wisely pretending to look elsewhere. Seeing the conundrum he created, Sandy now tried to set the Wayback Machine. He tried to hand the weapon back to the officer, muttering “No, no…..you take it”.

The officer smartly decided to comply with the last order given to him, so he placed the magazines at Sandy’s feet, said “You wanted it, you got it”, and walked away, in full police uniform, with an empty holster.

If the story ended there, that would be bad enough. However, it got much worse. Once he returned home, this officer began to have shortness of breath and chest pains as he thought of the humiliation inflicted on him by Sandy. His wife became very upset at his appearance, and when his neighbor saw him, he forced the officer to go to the hospital. The officer spent 12 hours in the hospital, and his blood work showed there was indeed some type of cardiac incident. It was inconclusive if there was an actual heart attack, but Sandy’s outrageous behavior triggered something.

This officer was out of work for a month, forced to use his own sick time, while he underwent a battery of tests, including a stress test, before he was cleared to return to work. When he did return to work, would you care to guess if he were just allowed to resume his duties?

I think you know the answer.

The officer was, without reason or explanation, booted from the CP unit, and transferred to the day shift with 14 hours notice. This officer had child care issues to deal with, but the third floor didn’t give a shit. He had raised the ire of the almighty Sandy, and therefore had to pay. Apparently, being forced to use a month of sick time because of something Sandy did wasn’t enough, this officer had to have his entire life turned upside-down, just because Sandy decreed it so. Never mind he had young children, and his wife also worked. You cross Sandy, and you pay. Dearly.

If you can believe it, that’s not the end of the story. Sandy, who was a captain at the time, did not have the authority to take someone’s weapon away and place them on administrative leave. Only the chief of police has that authority, and this officer wrote a letter to then-Chief Falco, expressing his outrage about Sandy overstepping his authority. Of course, the officer heard nothing from the chief’s office, not even a “I’m in receipt of your letter”.

Falco defended Sandy so fiercely, so often, in the face of so much evidence that he should be doing the opposite, it makes me wonder what Sandy has on him. Of course, Falco must not have realized that Sandy’s assault on the Quincy Sons of Italy Lodge on Superbowl Sunday (to be detailed in an upcoming greatest hits entry) was, more than likely, a coup attempt.

Just to put a cherry on top of this shit sundae…..prior to this foolishness, the entire Quincy Police Department had to undergo “workplace harassment” mandatory training. In addition to sexual harassment, the training also covered a hostile work environment and workplace bullying. Now, if the above scenario isn’t workplace bullying and a hostile work environment, then nothing is.

Taking advantage of this new harassment policy, this officer filed a formal written complaint with the city’s director of human resources, Roberta Kety, outlining not only this incident, but others where Sandy made it clear he had it out for this officer. He even had two face-to-face interviews with Kety, attended by union representatives, where it became pretty obvious Sandy was out-of-control. In addition, another officer who was relentlessly harassed by Sandy also filed a formal written complaint, hitting much of the same high (or low) points as the first officer (the second officer’s story will be told in an upcoming greatest hits installment).

What was done as the result of these formal complaints, filed under the supposedly enlightened new Quincy Police Department harassment policy?

Nothing.

Oh, excuse me, something WAS done.

Sandy was promoted to chief.

How much of our budget did that harassment “training” completely waste??

ASSORTED NOTES: My moles tell me that on Halloween night, Sandy’s humble abode was in complete, total darkness, even though both his personal vehicle and his police Explorer were there. That’s very curious, because Castle Crowley is usually lit-up like Gillette Stadium for a Monday Night Football game.

What’s the matter, Sandy? Didn’t have the holiday spirit, or are you too cheap to buy a couple of bags of fun-size M&M’s?

Thursday November 2, 2006 9:26 PM

Cars? We ain't got no cars! We don't need no stinking cars!!!! - Bruce Tait

“The rubber on a wheel is faster than the leather on a heel” – Sam “Lightnin” Hopkins.

As I mentioned in a previous entry, Chief Sandy is a sucker for nostalgia, such as bringing back the unarmed police officer to Quincy (entry of August 9th). He’s also apparently a sucker for another long-lost law enforcement tradition, one I never dreamed he even knew about.

After my father graduated Quincy High School following WWII, he joined the US Army. His first assignment, before being discharged, then recalled for the Korean War, was to a military police unit in Austria. This area was at a triangle where the American, British, and Soviet sectors came together. In the middle was a “neutral” zone, which coincidentally contained all the places where a soldier would be drawn….bars, nightclubs, etc. You can imagine the obvious problem of an American Military Policeman encountering a drunk, belligerent Soviet soldier in the neutral zone. That had “international incident” written all over it.

So, the solution was the so-called “International Patrol”, which was comprised of MP’s from the American, British, and Soviet forces. They would patrol together, sometimes on foot, but usually in an American Jeep. That way, no matter what nationality soldiers they encountered, someone would have jurisdiction. It made perfect sense, even if it was a bit unwieldy to have three MP’s to a vehicle.

Well, Sandy seems to think this type of idea is just dandy, because the Quincy Police Department patrol division is quickly headed for a three-to-a-cruiser policy. Not because of any jurisdictional concerns, or because it makes any sense. To the contrary, it makes no sense whatsoever, but it’s going to soon become a necessity, because serviceable QPD marked cruisers are either falling apart, bursting into flames, or being stripped of their markings, repainted a solid color, the windows deep-tinted, and the resulting Batmobile being presented to one superior officer, for their exclusive use (more on that last part later).

I know I’ve mentioned before, the Quincy Police Department divides the city into thirteen distinct sectors, each of which is covered by a marked cruiser staffed by one patrol officer. On occasion, two officers will ride together, but these are usually specialty assignments (detectives, motorcycle officers during inclement weather, marine unit officers in the off-season, etc.). Two officers to a cruiser is, or used to be, very much the exception, rather than the rule. This only makes sense, as most calls we respond to can be handled by one patrol officer. For those that can’t, or shouldn’t (domestics, fights, gun calls, etc.), then two patrol cars are dispatched to the call.

Unfortunately, because we (patrol division) are so short on marked cruisers, very often two officers responsible for two different sectors will have to ride in one cruiser, simply because there’s no alternative. This doesn’t make sense for a couple of reasons. On the previous occasions where QPD officers have shared a cruiser, they’re not responsible for any particular sector. They can roam wherever in the city they like, or at the most are assigned to either the North end or South end of the city. No real problem there, because every officer I know who is assigned to certain sector wants to be responsible for that neighborhood. After all, they picked to work that area, by seniority.

The problem, having two different sector officers in one cruiser, is that one sector is bound to suffer. For example, the other night, the Germantown & Hough’s Neck officers had to double-up in one cruiser. While answering a routine call in Hough’s Neck, what if another routine call came in for Germantown? Does the Germantown officer take the cruiser, leaving the Hough’s Neck officer stranded? Should the person in Germantown have to wait for police services, just because we’re driving a fleet of toilets?

Just to crank up the absurdity a little more, these two officers had to “down” (take out of service) that particular cruiser about halfway through the shift, because the passenger side seat-belt stopped working. You might be thinking “So what, the seatbelt law exempts police officers in police vehicles”. That’s true. It’s also almost a certain thing that if those officers were involved in a vehicle crash, Sandy would attempt to screw with the passenger if he were injured, for continuing to use a faulty vehicle. You see, we get set-up for failure on a daily basis, and need to constantly be on our toes.

So, I happened to be finishing a report when these two officers came into the station, after downing the cruiser. They no sooner stepped through the door of the report room, when they were dispatched to a domestic in Germantown, always a two-officer call. They looked at each other, agonizing over what to do. I told them; don’t have anyone sit in the passenger seat, because they’d be asking for a world of grief if they crashed. I would have told them to take my cruiser, but I was getting ready to go back in service, so that wouldn’t be fair to the people in my sector. Finally, one officer took the faulty cruiser, and another cruiser already on the road in another part of the city was sent to assist him.

What’s that, you say? Crank up the absurdity one more notch? You got it!!

Because the cruiser situation in the patrol division is so dire, two officers have been doubled-up in unmarked detective cars, previously verboten by the PTB for icky patrol officers to soil with their presence. In one respect, this makes some sense, since it seems we have more unmarked Ford Taurus’s in our parking lot than Quirk Used Cars. Having two plain-clothes officers in a Taurus, working anti-crime (not answering calls) would make a lot of sense, but given our chronic understaffing and ever-increasing call volume, that’s a luxury we can’t afford.

Having two uniformed patrol officers responding to priority calls in an unmarked Taurus is asking for disaster. Even with a fully marked Police Interceptor cruiser with an LED lightbar, you take your life in your hands when responding to a Priority-1 call. You can resemble a rolling rendition of the 1812 Overture on July 4th at the Hatch Shell, but invariably, some clueless member of the motoring public won’t see you.

KEEE-RASHHH!!!!!

I can make light of this all I want, but the reality is it’s not a joking matter. As a young police officer, I had to live through one of my brother officers being killed, responding to a priority call while driving an unmarked cruiser;

http://odmp.org/officer.php?oid=388

It wasn’t an experience I’d especially like to repeat.

That crash happened on a Saturday afternoon, when traffic was relatively light. We’re out there in rush-hour traffic, in the dark, and some of our patrol officers are expected to respond to priority calls in unmarked vehicles.

In any event, I’m pretty sure we’re soon going to see the return of the International Patrol, QPD-style. Because it’s difficult to hear anything through the prisoner restraint cage, communication among these officers will probably have to be done by radio;

Front Seat 1 – “Front seat to back seat”.

Back Seat 1 – “Go ahead front seat”

Front Seat 1 – “I have to drop you off for a past B&E, then drop-off Front seat 2 to handle a landlord-tenant dispute, and then I have to assist on a domestic across the city. I’ll be back to get you when I can”.

What happens if Back Seat 1 happens to make an arrest? Once again, Sandy’s sense of nostalgia comes into play. Much like our brethren of the early 1900’s, who had to drag their prisoner to the nearest call box, Back Seat 1 will have to wait on the street corner with his prisoner until Front Seat 1 can return.

You think I’m kidding? We’re not that far off. Of course, the mantra at 1 Sea Street is that new cruisers are coming. Well, so is Christmas, and I think it’s unlikely Santa will have any new cruisers under the tree for the patrol division this year.

So, if you happen to see a Quincy Police cruiser stuffed with so many patrol officers, it looks like it should be under the main tent at Ringling Brothers, now you know why. Also keep in mind the whole time, there are several cruisers, some of them formerly serviceable marked cruisers that are sitting, locked, in the police station parking lot, or in someone’s driveway, reserved for the sole use of certain superior officers hand-picked by Chief Sandy. Mostly because they either shamelessly kissed his ass, or Sandy is terrified of them, or Sandy is terrified of what they know about him, and might reveal someday.

And, if you think Chief Sandy or Lieutenant Bradlee’s are going to respond to your 911 call for help after 4pm, or at all for that matter, you have another thing coming. Their pristine take-home vehicles will be safely ensconced in their driveways, while the patrol officers you depend on for help in an emergency might be trying to jump-start the QPD version of the circus clown car.

Assuming it doesn’t self-immolate.

Sunday October 29, 2006 12:50 AM

Should We Ever Be Doubted??? - Bruce Tait

This is for G.D. from South Quincy, who didn't want to believe me when I said we've had police cruisers spontaneously go up in flames. A quick response from the Quincy Fire Department is the only reason you're not seeing a burned-out shell, although this cruiser is still a total loss.

Please, trust me. Everything written here is truth or opinion.

Saturday October 28, 2006 2:52 AM

Being Officer Friendly - Bruce Tait

“Americans will put up with anything, provided it doesn’t block traffic” – Dan Rather

By now, I’m sure I’ve made it clear that Chief Sandy’s gauge of what makes a good cop consists of two things; use of sick time, and traffic tickets. If you never call in sick and write a ton of traffic tickets, that makes you a great cop in Sandy’s eyes. I’m sure he thinks I’m a bag of crap as a cop, because although I very rarely use a sick day, traffic enforcement just isn’t my "thang".

Very often, I don’t have time for it. I’m big on sector integrity, and don’t think it’s fair for other officers to take my calls while I’m sitting on a stop sign, waiting for granny to do a Hollywood rolling stop. My sector alone (QPD has 13 sectors) last year had over 3,500 calls for service, and I was number two or three in the department for arrests. However, I’m a slacker in Sandy’s view, because I don’t set the world on fire with traffic tickets.

As usual, and as always, Crowley relies on his servile minions to ensure compliance with his vague verbal edicts. Nothing is ever put in writing, and getting specifics is like trying to nail Jell-O to the wall. We’re expected to rigidly comply with shadowy, vaguely worded Newspeak, which could be interpreted several different ways. It’s up to us to guess the correct interpretation, and God help us if we pick the wrong one.

In the last couple of months, I only managed to write one traffic ticket, and that was a teenage girl who blew a red light while talking on her cell phone. She came so close to t-boning my cruiser, I braced for impact (thinking I would be getting the holidays off this year), and she screeched to a halt so close to my driver’s door, I could have reached out the window and snapped-off her hood ornament.

So, the other day, I was “counseled” about my lack of ticket production by my sergeant. Now, my sergeant is one of the good ones who “gets it”, and when he started my counseling session, he was wearing a wide smile, because he knew how absurd the entire situation was. I listened to him, all the while thinking of the Patriots’ problems at wide receiver, and went on my way.

I’ll tell you one thing. I’m really starting to get tired of hearing the phrase, especially from lieutenants and higher, “Can you do me a favor?” before asking us to do Crowley’s bidding.

You know what? Favors are given, as well as received. When was the last time someone stood-up to Sandy at a staff meeting on our behalf? When is someone in the superior officer ranks going to go to the mayor, and reinforce what we’ve already told him, that his police chief is out of control?

I digress.

After my counseling session, I had a change of heart. Perhaps, I thought, I should dedicate more time to traffic enforcement, and stop more cars. It was a perfect moment of clarity….the clouds parted, the sun shone brightly on my face, and I heard a chorus of angels;

Hallelujah!!!!!

I was a changed man.

Now, in regards to traffic enforcement, one of the first things you learn in the police academy during traffic class is when you stop a motor vehicle for a civil motor vehicle infraction, a police officer has three options;

1) Issue a civil infraction (monetary fine).

2) Issue a written warning (using a Massachusetts uniform citation).

3) Issue a verbal warning (no paperwork to the operator).

In my view, Option 1 is usually not a good one, since the end result is just a financial burden on the operator, and a financial windfall to the insurance companies, who already have more money than they know what to do with. There are certainly times when this is appropriate, such as an egregious violation that causes an accident, or simply when someone is “stuck on stupid”.

Option 2, to me, is a waste of time and accomplishes little, except to kill some trees. In theory, if someone accumulates enough written warnings, they get their license suspended, but I’ve never seen that happen, and I don’t believe the RMV even keeps track anymore.

Option 3 looks pretty good to me. What’s the real purpose of traffic enforcement, or at least the ideal purpose? To correct the infraction. If I stop someone with a burned-out headlight, chances are they didn’t even know about it, so what’s the purpose of sticking it to them? After the embarrassment and inconvenience of being pulled over by the police, I’m pretty sure they’re going to get the headlight replaced, i.e. correct the infraction.

Regardless of what action the officer takes, we have to fill-out a short form called the “Massachusetts Traffic Stop Data Collection Form”, which we nicknamed the racial profiling form. They're designed to collect data on the dynamics of traffic stops, which will no doubt be used down the road by some ivory-tower, whacko liberal moonbat to label the police as racist. When these forms first appeared, I was infuriated.

I now have a totally different view of them. Mad props to Northeastern University’s Institute on Race and Justice, because these things are coming in handy. More on that later.

The decision of what action to take during a traffic stop lies solely with the officer who conducts the stop. No one else has any say as to what happens after the blue lights are activated. This is by design, because in 1965 (a great year overall), the Massachusetts Legislature passed the so-called “no fix ticket law”, which was signed by Governor Volpe. This law gives the police officer on the street sole discretion in regards to traffic enforcement.

Of course, some chiefs, usually being megalomaniacal, have tried to circumvent this law, or bully their officers into writing monetary citations to boost the department’s coffers. For example, our brethren in Newton actually took their chief to court after he issued an order for officers to write monetary citations. He and Sandy would probably get along famously.

The Middlesex Superior Court sided with the police union, stating the chief did not have the authority to issue such an order. This guy must be a real prize, because he appealed the case to the Appeals Court of Massachusetts, where he was slapped down again, with the court again finding for the union. Copy & paste this into your browser to read the decision;

http://www.policelaborlaw.com/crimcases/newton1.pdf

If you don’t have the desire to read the whole case, it can be summed-up in one of the last sentences:

“The Legislature in 1965, at Governor Volpe’s urging, very deliberately transferred the discretionary decision from the police chief to the officer on traffic control duty”.

So, an officer having sole discretion isn’t just some crazy notion of mine, it’s the law, with a state Appeals Court ruling to back it up.

Apparently, Sandy also believes in discretion, which is fantastic. For example, last year a QPD patrol officer stopped a car for a minor motor vehicle infraction. The incident steamrolled from there, because the car was unregistered, uninsured, and had a forged inspection sticker (a felony). The female operator became so enraged; she basically attacked the officer, and was placed in the back of the cruiser to cool off. The officer had every right to arrest her, but decided to summons her to court, which has the same end result as an arrest. The officer towed the car to the station, where he took digital photos of the forged sticker, and submitted the memory chip into evidence.

This female must have decided the best defense is a good offense, and filed a complaint against the officer. This landed on the desk of Lieutenant Bradlee’s, who as usual, took great pleasure in his job. This officer was fairly new at the time, and didn’t know he should NEVER speak to Lieutenant Bradlee’s without union representation. The officer was called-in to explain himself, because of course, this woman’s complaint was given 100% veracity by the chief’s office. We’re always presumed guilty.

So, this officer was peppered with questions by Lieutenant Bradlee’s. The woman tried to say the officer had no right to stop her, yadda, yadda, yadda. Finally, the officer said he took photos of the forged inspection sticker. Lieutenant Bradlee’s was thunderstruck. He looked like he just swallowed a frog, and in a defeated voice, said “Oh, you did?”

Sure enough, the officer went to the detective bureau, retrieved the memory chip, printed out the pictures, and gave them to Lieutenant Bradlee’s. He looked them over, and the situation suddenly wasn’t such a big deal anymore. He said “I’ll let you know” and dismissed the officer.

A couple of days later, the officer was approached by another lieutenant, and said “The chief said you should calm down, and use some discretion”.

Did you get that folks? Sandy wants us to use our discretion. Remember that.

So anyway….two nights ago, I hit the streets a changed man, ready to go out and enforce traffic laws again. I stopped a total of 5 cars, and gave the operators all verbal warnings. Not only that, I told them immediately after I stopped them, they weren’t going to get a ticket. Their reactions were priceless.

One 20 year-old man I stopped for doing 41mph on East Howard Street (a 30mph zone) was hanging his head when I got to his window. He told me he was just coming from his new job, and the traffic ticket would probably wipe-out his day’s salary. He was almost in tears. When I told him he wasn’t getting a ticket, he was elated, apologized profusely, and promised to slow down in the future. The infraction was corrected.

Another guy I stopped for a burned-out headlight was itching for an argument, I could tell. When I told him he wasn’t getting a ticket, he was like a cat that just got its whiskers cut-off. He stared at me like a confused puppy for a second, and then actually agreed with me, that he should replace the headlight. The infraction was corrected.

Of course, these people didn’t just get to drive away after I spoke to them. I had to take their license & registration back to my cruiser, check them for warrants & their license status, and I made sure the vehicle was registered & insured. I then filled out a traffic stop data collection form, as required by law. A stern admonishment from me, and the people were on their way.

It’s indeed very refreshing & liberating to be Officer Friendly. It’s nice to have positive interactions during traffic stops, which is a rare occurrence. Best of all, the data collection forms, a state-produced document, verify I’m conducting traffic enforcement. Unlike traffic citations, the officer doesn’t get a carbon of this form, so I’m keeping photocopies of the ones I issue, just in case the originals get “lost”.

Before, when I cleared a traffic stop, I’d say over the radio, “Seven eight four, clear with a citation”. Now, it’s “Seven eight four, clear with a verbal warning, data collection form filed”.

It has a certain panache, don’t you think?

It’s also catching on, in a big way.

On a side note, I received an e-mail yesterday from the ubiquitous “concerned Quincy taxpayer”. I get a few of these a week, but this one warrants mention. This person believes I shouldn’t be airing the “dirty laundry” of the Quincy Police Department in such a public forum. Essentially, she was telling me I should stop telling everyone what Sandy is doing.

My response, M.M., is this: How about he stops doing it??

There’s an episode of “Seinfeld” where a female comedian started a one-woman show, consisting solely of making fun of Jerry. After some unsuccessful attempts to get her to stop, Jerry did the sensible thing, and ceased all contact with the woman. No contact, no material.

Unfortunately, Kramer inadvertently gave the woman enough information to keep the show going, but Jerry’s strategy was sound. If Sandy stops his bullshit, then I have nothing to write about.

I think you and I both know that’s not going to happen.

So, full speed ahead. I intend to be the president of this union for as long as the membership does me the honor of electing me, and I think the majority believes I’m doing a good job. As long as I’m in the driver’s seat, my foot isn’t coming off the accelerator. Sandy may have been here before me, but I’ll be here long after he’s gone.

Trust me, the fun has just begun.

Tuesday October 24, 2006 1:37 AM

Lights.....camera.....ACTION!!! - Bruce Tait

“Sunlight is said to be the best disinfectant” – L. Brandeis in Other People’s Money (1933)

As pleased as I am with the popularity of this website, I’m constantly looking for more ways to get our message out there. For example, those of you who read the Patriot Ledger will probably see us a couple of times this week, once in the form of a story, another in a retail advertisement. Awhile back, I was thinking of ways to promote our message when I thought of something so simple, I’m disappointed in myself for not thinking of it sooner.

If you live in Quincy, you’ve no doubt seen the highly entertaining shows on Quincy Access Television. One of my favorites is “Freddy K’s Christian Action Fellowship”, which is basically a goofball who plays the guitar and sings songs at different outdoor locations across the city. The entertaining parts are the songs themselves, because it seems like he makes them up as he goes along, and the pure cheesiness of the show. For instance, he was once playing & singing down on Wollaston Beach on a frigid day. As he was singing, you could see his dog taking a dump on the beach, just over his shoulder. Maybe I’m childish, but I find stuff like that very amusing.

There are also more serious shows, such as press conferences with the mayor, coverage of city council meetings, and Don Kusser’s show, “The Constitution: Then and Now”. I’ve been a guest on Don’s show twice, and despite being nervous the first time, I was amazed at how easy it was to talk on-camera. Then again, it’s not hard to fill an hour when you’re talking about Bizarro World.

I often think……how could it get worse for Chief Sandy, having an Internet website and a television show pretty much dedicated to figuratively kicking his head in?

How about an Internet website and TWO television shows?

Yes friends, we’re in the embryonic stages of getting our own TV program on Quincy Access Television. We even have a tentative title; “True Stories of the QPD: What They Don’t Want You To Know”, although I’m certainly open to suggestions. It will be a basic interview setup, with me being the host, and another executive board member as my sidekick, laughing at all the bad jokes, Ed McMahon-style.

I’ve looked into this, and anyone who lives in Quincy, or a non-profit organization based in Quincy, can have their own show. Would you care to guess what type of organization the QPPOA is, and where we’re based?

The possibilities are simply delicious. While it certainly won’t be hard filling an hour talking about the insanity of the Quincy Police Department, we plan on having guests almost every time. We’re going to have retired officers who got screwed by Chief Sandy, ordinary citizens who got screwed by him, gun owners who got screwed by him, and even at least one of Chief Sandy’s former paramours. One of them has already contacted me, and when I suggested a future appearance on a TV show, she jumped at the chance. She has all sorts of interesting tales of her time with the Sandster, and can’t wait to share them with everyone.

Fred Allen once said, “Television is a new medium. It’s called a medium because nothing is well done”. Well, I don’t think you’ll be disappointed with this particular medium.

“Overture, curtain, lights. This is it, we’ll hit the heights. And, oh what heights we’ll hit. On with the show, this is it!!!”

Saturday October 21, 2006 12:43 AM

Taking Things To The Next Level - Bruce Tait

“I can’t imagine things getting worse then they are now”. – Bruce Tait, as quoted in the Patriot Ledger 4/24/04 concerning then-Chief William Falco.

Unlike a lot of people inside 1 Sea Street, I freely admit when I’m wrong. I don’t believe I’ve ever been more wrong in my entire life than I was on that day. That wasn’t just wrong, that was felony wrong. I should be publicly flogged with a rattan cane for being that wrong. That’s death penalty wrong.

As bad a chief as Falco was, his main focus was financial. While I’ll never forgive him for costing members of this association thousands of dollars, I will say he was at least human. He had a wife & children, and you could occasionally appeal to his sense of family. When he did mete out discipline, it was usually fair.

The sorry excuse for a chief who currently occupies the corner office has positively no redeeming qualities whatsoever. I’m not saying that lightly. I’ve been studying him for about 6 years, and I can’t think of a single positive aspect of his personality. He’s exactly the type of police officer the public likes to point to when they’re bad-mouthing cops. He’s a coward, a bully, and the biggest hypocrite I’ve ever met in my entire life. Read every entry in this blogspot, and remember this; none of it has ever been refuted.

Today, he completely outdid himself, and he apparently wants to take our little war to the next level.

No problem, Sandy.

Today, a Quincy Police Officer was pulled out of the roll call room before the 4pm-12 Midnight shift, and told to report to the chief’s office. This officer is a 32 year veteran of the Quincy Police Department and a Hanna Award winner. For those who don’t know, the Hanna Award is the highest award for bravery a police officer can be given in Massachusetts. This officer is retiring in 32 months, closing out a career where he worked the street the entire time. He’s also one of the very few Quincy Police employees that will still have a civil conversation with Chief Crowley. Well, would have had.

When he walked into the chief’s office, Crowley was sitting behind his desk, while his handlers, Captain Dougan and Lieutenant Bradlee’s (real name John “Jack” Sullivan) immediately stood on either side of the officer. Crowley then said to the officer “I need your gun. Take it out slowly”, as if he were talking to some scumbag on the street. Of course, this is as close as Crowley is ever going to get to telling a bad guy to surrender a firearm, because he sure as hell never had to do it to a real suspect.

The officer, still not knowing what this was all about, surrendered his gun. Was that enough to satisfy Crowley’s puzzling obsession with embarrassing his officers? Of course not. The officer was also ordered to surrender his license to carry firearms, his badge, and his police radio. Lieutenant Bradlee’s, who seemed to be enjoying it a little too much, then asked Captain Dougan if he should have to surrender his police ID card. Dougan, who looked like he would rather have been in downtown Baghdad at this point, shook his head no, However, Lieutenant Bradlee’s, being the sickeningly obsequious sycophant he is, said “No, we better take that too.”

In a magnanimous gesture, Crowley allowed the officer to keep his socks and underwear.

Was the humiliation complete for this officer, who still didn’t know why this was being done? I think you know the answer.

As a final kick in the balls, this officer was served with a written notice, signed by Crowley, barring him from entering or being on the premises of the Quincy Police station. No, you’re not seeing things. He can’t even enter his place of employment for the last 32 years.

Surely, you’re thinking this officer must have committed some awful crime, or perhaps used his gun inappropriately.

Hardly.

What horrible thing did this officer do to deserve such complete & utter humiliation in front of his fellow officers?

As of right now, nothing.

We were told there have been some allegations of discrepancies regarding this officer’s attendance, from 3 years ago. Under the rules & regulations of the Quincy Police Department, we have the right to see any written complaint filed against us. When Terry Downing, who was called to be this officer’s union representative, asked to see the complaint, he was told they didn’t have it.

Did you get that? This officer was completely humiliated, and banned from the police station, when a complaint hasn’t even been filed yet. That’s how they roll in Bizarro World.

When will we get a copy of this complaint?

“Maybe I’ll get it to you next week” Crowley said.

Oh, MAYBE you’ll get it to us next week, Sandy? How gracious of you, to MAYBE abide by the rules & regulations of the department.

As if all this wasn’t bad enough, this officer had open-heart surgery 8 years ago. After being told he was getting a royal screwing by Crowley, this officer’s heart began to race, he began sweating, and felt tightness in his chest. Terry Downing immediately noticed it, and asked if he was okay. The officer said no, he wasn’t, and requested an ambulance. Captain Dougan raced out of the office to call an ambulance, but Crowley just sat behind his desk, mute. If nothing else, Crowley is consistent, because he showed this officer the same concern he shows the rest of us………none, whatsoever.

I visited the officer at Quincy Medical Center this evening, where he was hooked up to all sorts of medical equipment and pumped full of drugs. He didn’t look good at all. The most ironic thing of all, as I mentioned before, was this officer was about the only patrol officer left who would even try to explain Crowley’s bizarre behavior. It was almost as if Crowley looked over our seniority list, found the one person who doesn’t despise him, and decided to make it unanimous.

By the way, would you care to guess whether Crowley called or visited the hospital to see how the officer was doing? Uhhhh…..no. He at least had the good sense to not visit in person, because I would have told him in no uncertain terms his presence was not welcome.

Needless to say, this officer is very upset about this, Not about the allegations, as he literally laughed when told of those, he’s upset at the way it was handled. You would figure 32 years of dedicated service, being the second most senior patrol officer, and a Hanna Award would count for something, but no. I’ll tell you what 32 years does count for, and that’s stories.

This officer knows all sorts of things about Crowley, things he said he can easily verify, and things that will blow the roof off 1 Sea Street. Being a Vietnam veteran, this officer had respect enough for the office of the chief to keep his mouth shut, but Crowley removed any respect he had left, because he now knows Crowley is a disgrace who doesn’t deserve the respect of a rookie just out of the academy, never mind an experienced veteran street cop like this officer.

When I do hear these stories, and I can’t wait to do so, you’ll be the first to know. As this officer said, “I hope your computer is bulletproof, because the bullets are going to be flying out of it.”

Do you still think this was such a great idea, Sandy?

As the saying goes, living well is the best revenge, and I reminded this officer of that. Ironically, this officer has the same retirement date as Crowley, so I reminded him that after June 30th of 2009, he'll be enjoying his retirement and his grandchildren, while Crowley will be a bitter, lonely old man that will no longer be able to hide behind a badge he had no business wearing in the first place, and will most likely die alone.

He who laughs last, laughs best.

What makes this all the more infuriating is that right now, Crowley is in violation of the law. He’s the head law enforcement officer for the City of Quincy, sworn to uphold the law, but he flouts the law when it suits him. As I’ve mentioned before, Crowley never filed the required financial disclosure when he was appointed to the Quincy College Board of Governors in December 2005. Rather than file the disclosure, he resigned from the board when he found out we were looking for a copy of it.

Guess what, Sandy? You’re not getting off that easy.

There are some things in life where you get what you pay for, men’s suits and lawyers being the two biggest examples. After Crowley resigned from the board, I was determined to force him to file the disclosure, because like almost everything else in his life, Crowley had just flouted the rules and the law when it was inconvenient otherwise. I seriously think I’m the only person who has ever held him accountable for anything in his entire career. I had our attorney, Paul Hynes, look into the whole financial disclosure issue, and as usual he hit a home run. To the QPPOA members reading this…..Paul is worth every penny we pay him.

Chapter 53 of the Special Acts of 1994 established the Quincy College Board of Governors, and delineated their scope & authority. Section 2 of Chapter 53 requires all members of the Board of Governors to file a financial disclosure with the Quincy City Clerk’s Office within 30 days of taking office. Crowley never did this. Section 2 also states they must file a financial disclosure within 30 days of leaving the board. Crowley never did this.

So, for each day he doesn’t file the disclosure, he’s in violation of state law. The Chief of Police for the City of Quincy is breaking the law on a daily basis. Do you realize how outrageous this is???

Unfortunately, there are no penalties or sanctions mentioned for breaking this law, but the relevant section mentions the State Ethics Commission, which gives them jurisdiction. Also, since Crowley is breaking the law, that opens the door for us to file an action in Superior Court to force Crowley to file the disclosure, which we most certainly are going to do.

On Monday morning, Tuesday at the latest, the State Ethics Commission will receive a fat envelope from the Quincy Police Patrol Officers’ Association, containing my formal written complaint against Crowley, along with so many supporting documents, it took 3 stamps to mail.

Also on Monday morning, I’m hand-delivering a letter to Mayor Phelan, detailing the latest incidents that showcase how out-of-control his police chief is.

Your move, Sandy.

Friday October 20, 2006 3:24 AM

Happy.......mad. Happy......mad. Happy.......mad. - Bruce Tait

“The man’s a menace!” – Judge Smails in Caddyshack

Probably everyone who reads this space is aware of the unique challenges and dangers police officers face. For whatever reasons, when people don’t know what else to do, they call the police. We’re about the only branch of government that will even answer the phone at 4am, never mind send someone to your house at that hour, unless it’s on fire. That’s why in addition to receiving calls concerning criminal activity, people also call 911 for bats in their house, possums in their pool, and even (I swear I’m not making this up) to complain that it’s raining too hard.

It’s often been said that cops only associate with other cops, and that the job “hardens” us. The first part is absolutely true, and almost any cop will tell you they feel most comfortable when surrounded by other cops. It doesn’t even have to be cops from the same department; I’ve hung-out with cops from all over the country, even from outside the country, and have always been welcomed with open arms, because the job is the same everywhere, just the uniforms, faces, and accents are different. We feel comfortable with each other because we’ve all been touched by the devil, and know that every other cop has, also. If I told some “war stories” at a regular cocktail party, attended by corporate types, they’d probably want to throw a net over me.

As for being hardened by the job, that’s at least partially true. Unfortunately, we see the worst of society, and a great majority of the awful things we see will never make the TV news or newspapers. For some examples….when a 20-something man in Quincy died, the obituary said he “died suddenly at home”. What actually happened was he put a 12-guage shotgun in his mouth, and vaporized the top 3/4ths of his head.

We had an officer perform CPR, in vain, to attempt to save the life of a newborn baby after its mother rolled over in her sleep and suffocated it.

We’ve had officers walk into an apartment where a man was dismembering the woman he just killed.

We’ve had officers walk into a house where a guy had killed his entire family, he said because of radio waves being beamed into his head.

We had on officer who conducted a well-being check of an elderly person, to find she had died several days prior. The woman had a dog, and after a few days of no food, the dog availed himself of the most convenient food source. Get it?

After dealing with all these awful things, we develop defense mechanisms, one of which is called “gallows humor”. For instance, at the shotgun suicide, I remember joking with the medical examiner’s staff about how brains really DO stick to the ceiling. Of course, I didn’t really find the situation funny, but that was a defense mechanism.

Well, we can joke and pretend things don’t bother us all we want, but in the end, we’re all still human, and things eventually do bother us. There’s a reason why cops have staggering numbers in regards to alcoholism, divorce, and suicide. There’s also a reason why we often refer to sick days as “mental health days”. There are some days when you just can’t face going into work. Even back in the day, when Chief Mullen (who actually cared about us and fought for us) was in charge, there were days you just couldn’t do it.

Last month, a Quincy Police Officer was having some serious personal issues, which were exacerbated when Jamie Cochrane was killed, since this officer and Jamie were friendly. In a nutshell, he was burned-out. This officer reached out to me, and I knew he just needed some time away from the job. He was also very bitter towards the department in general (sound familiar?), and even though we have two very capable and caring stress officers, this particular officer wanted nothing to do with anything concerning the QPD, so I referred him to the Boston Police Stress Unit. The BPD Stress Unit was a pioneer in the field, and to this day, if a police department wants to start a stress program, they invariably send people to Boston, since they were the first, and are still the best.

One of the pillars of the BPD Stress Unit is confidentiality. They won’t reveal any information about officers seeking help to anyone. And, I mean ANYONE. For example, one BPD Stress Counselor (who are all veteran police officers) actually served time in jail, rather than reveal to a judge any information about an officer he counseled. The counselor actually served two stretches in jail before the judge realized he’d never break, and released him.

Another time, an officer for a municipality north of Boston arrived at the BPD Stress Unit, despondent over a pending divorce, holding his gun because he wanted to end his life. After taking the gun away, the stress counselors took the officer inside and began talking to him. In the meantime, this officer’s police chief arrived, apparently he received a tip the troubled officer was there. He was met outside the building by a stress counselor. This chief started to try to throw his weight around, demanding to know if the officer was inside (sound like anyone we know?). He was told he had 30 seconds to leave the premises, or he would be arrested for trespassing. I know the officer/counselor who made that statement, and believe me, he would have done it.

Anyway, the QPD Officer took some time off, talked to the BPD people, and generally decompressed for a few weeks. During that time, he used his accumulated sick time, which he had earned over the years. He contacted me a few days ago, saying he was ready to return to work, and asked what the process was. Since the BPD Stress Unit won’t provide any documentation whatsoever (confidentiality), and I knew Chief Crowley would never just allow him to come back to work, I told this officer to get a letter from his physician, stating he was ready to return to full duty, and he did just that.

Earlier today (technically yesterday), this officer called me, saying he had just left his physician’s office. He had a full physical, and also talked to his physician for about 30 minutes. The doctor provided a letter, stating the officer was “physically and mentally ready to return to full duty as a police officer”. I asked the officer if he wanted me to submit the letter, if he wanted me to go with him, or if he just wanted to drop it off himself. Because this officer is the type of person who would never want to inconvenience anyone, he said he’d just drop it off himself.

Well, shame on me.

I’m very disappointed in myself, because I screwed-up. I should have at least had my secretary, Steve O’Donoghue, go with this officer, because Steve was working anyway. I don’t know what got into me, because I assumed the procedure was going to be as easy as submitting the letter. How wrong I was.

This officer submitted his physician’s letter, and Chief Crowley had a meltdown. He began yelling that he wanted to know where this officer had been, and if he was confined at a drug or alcohol treatment facility. Now, I know the specifics of what this officer has been dealing with, and drugs/alcohol has nothing to do with it. In spite of the officer telling Crowley this, he was undeterred. Crowley wanted the officer to have his physician amend the letter to state the officer didn’t receive in-patient drug or alcohol treatment.

Let’s examine this for a second. Supposing this officer did in fact seek residential drug or alcohol treatment, which he most certainly did not, the only people who would know about it would be the officer and the people at the treatment facility. Crowley wanted this officer’s physician to state that something never happened, when he would have no knowledge if it happened, or not. It’s akin to asking the physician to state the officer never went to Disney World when he was 6 years old……how the hell would he know?

Looking at the broader picture, Crowley was basically asking this officer to prove something never happened. Is Crowley now the Great Philosopher, posing theoretical questions to his officers?

Prove that something never happened.

What next?

Prove or disprove there is a God? What is the meaning of life? Why do we park in driveways, and drive on parkways? What happens to your lap when you stand-up?

Should we now expect handouts on existentialism at roll call?

Knowing his physician would never sign-off about something he knew nothing of, this officer just left the office, and called me. I already had a message into our labor counsel on an unrelated matter, so I told this officer to wait until I could talk to our attorney.

In the meantime, this officer called me back. Now, Crowley was willing to accept the physician’s letter, provided the officer added a handwritten addendum, stating he was suffering from “stress and anxiety”. I told this officer that he should positively not do this, because since he wasn’t under the care of a mental health professional, there should be no diagnosis, amateur or otherwise. I told him he should submit the physician’s letter, as written, and simply say that the union had advised him to not make any changes or additions to it.

When the officer did this, a radically different Chief Crowley greeted him. The officer’s previously verboten physician’s letter was accepted as written, and Crowley, who was a yelling lunatic an hour or so before, now showed faux concern for the officer, asking him how he was doing, and welcoming him back into the fold.

Mood swings, anyone?

I have to mention that if a patrol officer ever exhibited a violent mood swing similar to what our police chief displayed, he/she would be immediately disarmed by Crowley, and sent to the hospital to be “checked out”.

Let’s also look at the fact that Crowley is obsessive about sick time usage. He expects us to almost never take a sick day, and when he interviews people for specialist positions (detectives, motorcycles, etc.) his only concerns are traffic tickets and sick time. Yet, here is an officer who has been using sick time, who wants to come back to work, and Crowley makes it a lengthy and painful procedure.

Chief…..do you want us to use sick time, or not???

The time is coming where the powers that be really need to think about a fence & guard towers around 1 Sea Street.

Wednesday October 18, 2006 2:46 AM

Questions, questions, questions...... - Bruce Tait

Once again, it’s time to open the mailbag. Some of these questions are paraphrased for clarity, with spelling & grammar corrected, but they all came from real people. In the event of a duplicate question, the initials of the person who asked it first are used;

Q: How come he (Crowley) doesn’t want free police dogs? – G.B.

A: Who knows? I offered my own opinion in the last entry underneath, but the only person who really knows is him.

However, I do have an update in that regard. Tonight, I had a very interesting conversation with the sergeant who writes the grants and has been working like crazy to get the free police dogs. He suggested to Crowley today (technically yesterday) we get at least one more K-9, since the sole K-9 officer we have is out injured, and we’re requesting K-9 assistance from other agencies so often that we’re becoming like the guests who wouldn’t leave (Hey, got any chips? Mind if I make a few long distance phone calls?).

To my shock & surprise, as well as the sergeant’s, Crowley agreed. His caveat to the sergeant was that he had to deal with the union, which is the QPPOA. Well, the sergeant has nothing to worry about in that regard, because we fully support more K-9’s. As a matter of fact, one of the sticking points in getting the five free dogs from the Feds, at least according to Crowley, was that the hours & duties of K-9 officers are delineated in the contract between us and the city, and Crowley wants two dogs on each shift, which would be a violation of the contract. He wanted us to provide a letter, stating that K-9 officers could be placed on any shift, and we agreed.

I called the sergeant writing the grant, and asked him how to word the letter. I worded it exactly as he suggested, and even read it to him over the phone. No problem. I signed the letter, and since it was my day off, I had my vice-president, Terry Downing, pick up the letter at my house, since we live fairly close to each other, and he was working that day anyway.

When Terry got to the chief’s office, he showed the letter to Captain Dougan, who agreed the wording was fine. However, when Crowley read it, there was suddenly a problem, and I know exactly what it was.

Knowing Crowley as I do, I put some protection for the future K-9 officers in the letter. Around March of each year, we choose our assignments and shifts by seniority, which is contractually-protected right. In the letter, I stated the QPPOA would agree to two K-9 officers on all shifts, but the selection would be by seniority, in accordance with the yearly bid process. In other words, there would be six K-9 officers (the existing one plus the five free dogs), and if the two most senior officers chose the same shift, the remaining four would have to choose among the other two shifts. I also put in a clause that the K-9 officers would not relinquish any of their contractual rights in regards to the yearly shift bid process.

This was unacceptable to Crowley, who apparently wanted the authority to arbitrarily reassign the K-9 officers throughout the three shifts, as the mood struck him. Given his opinion of K-9 officers, that’s a scary thought. When he read the protections I had put in the letter, he actually refused to accept it.

Yes, you read that correctly. He refused to accept the letter. The same letter he requested, that the grant-writing sergeant approved of, as well as his own right-hand man.

It was suddenly January of 1991. Terry Downing had become Jim Baker, while Crowley was Tariq Aziz.

In any event, I’m treating this new development with guarded optimism. Crowley could very well, as he has in the past, change his mind at the last second, but that’s beyond our control. There’s no sense in worrying about things you can’t change.

Q: Were you stretching the truth a bit when you said Crowley arrived for a meeting looking like a bum with takeout food? – L.A.

A: No. There were plenty of witnesses besides me, and I have no reason to lie. I’m regularly supplied with more than enough material to comment on, that I don’t need to fabricate anything.

Q: My friend’s uncle works with you. Did you guys really send Crowley a junk toy cruiser for Christmas last year? – D.N.

A: Yes.

If you go to our “Links” section, click on “Realistic Model Police Cars”, and you’ll see the webpage for a very talented guy who makes scale-model cruisers. These things are incredible, I have a model of my cruiser, and it looks like someone hit the real QPD 784 cruiser with a shrink ray.

I took office as president on December 1st, 2005, just before the holidays, and I wanted to send a message to Crowley that the party was over, so I had the model guy make a replica of “Patrol 3”, featured in the Media Gallery of the website under “Sea Street Junkyard”. Once again, my man came through, and the result was an almost-scary reproduction of the real thing. The dents were perfectly placed, no hubcaps, and before the clear-coat paint went on, he sprinkled some dirt on the model, making it look like a total piece of crap, which of course the real thing was.

I have to mention here this wasn’t my idea, as much as I’d like to take credit for it. Peter Curley, the QPPOA Treasurer suggested it; I just executed his idea since I know the model guy.

The model was wrapped in beautiful gold foil with a big red bow with fake holly berries on top, then carefully packed it in a larger box for delivery by FedEx. Included was a card that said something like “Here’s what your officers have been driving while you have your new Explorer. Merry Christmas”. I decorated the outer box with festive Christmas stickers, including Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, Herbie the Dentist, and candy canes.

Aren’t we thoughtful?

When Crowley received his gift, he apparently wasn’t in the spirit of the season, because people on the other side of the third floor heard the resulting eruption.

Q: Why did I hear on the scanner that officers are getting gas for the cruisers at a gas station? Don’t you guys have your own gas pumps? – J.S.

A: We do have our own gas pumps, but unfortunately, the tanks underneath them are dry. The fuel company hasn’t been paid in quite awhile, so we’ve been shut-off. The fuel company should speak to the boat transport people (see “sinking ship” below) about their chances of ever being paid.

Q: I admit your boss is off the wall, but you seem a little out there also. Why are you so obsessed with Crowley? – E.G.

A: I think obsessed is a bit too strong of a word, since I still have a very fulfilling life outside the department. If you’d like to know why I expend so much time & energy on this website, go grab a cup of coffee and take a seat, because it’s going to take awhile to explain it fully.

If you ask anyone who knew me when I was appointed to the Quincy Police Department what I was like back then, the universal response would be “He was quiet and did his job”. I didn’t say “boo” to anyone, I was just happy to be here. Coming from a military background, I always addressed superior officers by “sir” or their title. Except for one unfortunate incident when I was bagged in a licensed establishment after-hours, I had a spotless record. Since I was in my 20’s and single at the time, I think I deserve a mulligan for that one. I’ve certainly never been suspended, as Chief Crowley has been;

http://ledger.southofboston.com/articles/2002/05/17/news/export23049.txt

Basically, back then, I wouldn’t have said sh** if I had a mouthful of it. In other words, I was a tailor-made target for Crowley. He saw me as an easy mark, someone who wouldn’t fight back.

Somehow, I don’t think he still has that same opinion of me. As my father told me, it’s the quiet ones you need to watch out for.

After I had been on the QPD about 3 years, I was approaching my tenth year in law enforcement. I wanted to try something different, so when it was announced that the QPD was reforming their mounted unit, it immediately caught my eye, even though I had never ridden a horse before. I did a lot of reading on the subject, learning that mounted police officers were much more P.R. people than cops, but they were almost universally loved by the public.

That sounded like it would be refreshing, so I applied. Considering I was fairly new to the QPD job, I was pleasantly surprised to be selected. After 8 weeks of training at the Boston Police Mounted Training Academy, we hit the streets. It was the most enjoyable time I’ve ever had as a police officer, and it was indeed refreshing to have almost 100% positive interactions with the public.

That is, it was the most enjoyable time, until I landed in then-Captain Crowley’s gun sight.

The mounted unit worked a split schedule; days in the winter, and nights in the summer. When Crowley took over as night captain, he took a keen interest in me. At that time, I was the only mounted officer, because one had voluntarily gone back to patrol, while the other (Lieutenant Bradlee’s) was temporarily assigned to conduct background investigations.

Crowley seemingly couldn’t grasp the concept that a 1,600 pound animal is not like a police cruiser. You can’t run them 24/7, in extreme weather, and both the horses and the equipment needed a lot of maintenance. Although my time on the mounted unit was very enjoyable, it was also a hell of a lot of work. The horses had to be spotless when they hit the street, and it was incumbent on the rider to clean their horse. Inevitably, they’d be covered in wood shavings when we got to the barn, and it would take a good 30-45 minutes to properly groom them, apply hoof dressing, etc. Once that was done, we had to load supplies…..water, water buckets, hay, tack, and helmets. By the time we were ready to leave the barn, well over an hour had passed

Crowley apparently thought I was full of crap, because one day when I arrived at the barn, I saw a sergeant waiting for me. He sheepishly told me that Crowley had sent him to observe what I did at the barn, and explained he really didn’t care what I did. I had absolutely no problem with that, and after watching me do my daily routine, the sergeant’s comment was “&^%$ that, you can keep that job”.

Whiffing on that attempt, Crowley tried another approach.

Another essential maintenance item with horses is keeping the saddle pads clean. For those who don’t know, a saddle doesn’t go directly on a horse’s back, there is a saddle pad between the horse and the saddle, to avoid friction on the horse’s skin. Saddle pads are like big pieces of ultra-puffy, extra-thick, super-soft pieces of carpeting. In between the saddle pad and the saddle, we used dress housings, which were like a uniform item, emblazoned “QUINCY POLICE”.

In the winter, when the horses didn’t sweat much, you could use a saddle pad a few times before having to wash it, but in the summer, you have to wash it after every time you used it, because horses sweat. A LOT. The pads need to be clean, because if they’re encrusted with dried sweat, it can irritate the horse’s back. When that happens, horses tend to divest themselves of the weight on their back, rather quickly & violently. Let me assure you, from personal experience…..it’s not a lot of fun to get thrown from a horse, wearing 20 pounds of equipment, then land on a concrete sidewalk.

One night during the summer, I realized I had no clean saddle pads. Going to a laundromat was not an option, because many people are allergic to horses, so you can’t wash something loaded with horse hair in a public washing machine. What we did was take our dirty saddle pads to the Boston Police Mounted Unit, which is behind the Faulkner Hospital. They have commercial grade washers, specifically for washing saddle pads, and they were kind enough to give us unlimited access to them.

So, one night I was over there doing laundry, when my cell phone started ringing. It was the communications sergeant, asking me where I was, even though I told my direct supervisor (the one who came to the barn) what I needed to do. This sergeant told me Crowley was looking for me, and was “on fire” because I wasn’t answering the radio. I told the sergeant I had shut my radio off, since it didn’t work in that part of Boston. He must have had Crowley on the Nextel or speaker phone, because I then heard the sergeant relaying what I had said, followed by a somewhat muffled tirade of obscenity from Crowley, cursing me, the mounted unit, and life in general.

Okay, I made up the life in general part, but it was an impressive temper tantrum, nonetheless.

I told the sergeant I would return to Quincy as soon as I was done, and I figured that was that. How naïve I was back then. About 40 minutes after the first conversation, my cell phone rang once again. The communications sergeant now said Crowley was “in a rage” that I still wasn’t back in Quincy. He said, “Bruce, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll get back to Quincy, NOW”.

Seeing no other alternative, I did just that, leaving one load of laundry in a dryer, another in a washing machine. When I got back in the city, I called Crowley on the radio several times, because I wanted to personally explain what I was doing. Conveniently enough, Crowley, who was all over the radio earlier looking for me, was suddenly silent. I called him several times, and even had dispatch call his cell phone, all to no avail. However, I did receive a written memo from Crowley the next day, ordering me to submit a written report, detailing my every action that night. I felt like I was explaining to a child why Christmas hasn’t arrived yet as I wrote about how I couldn’t make the washers & dryers go any faster that night.

Another favorite trick of Crowley’s from those days was to wait until I had arrived with the horse to my assigned patrol area (usually Quincy Center), taken the horse off, tacked him up, and started to ride, when he would call my supervisor on the radio, stating he wanted the mounted officer in a different part of the city. That meant going back to the trailer, taking the tack off, loading the horse back on, driving to the new spot, unloading the horse, etc. It was just a way to bust my chops. Petty bullsh**.

Fast forward a little bit. Crowley was reassigned from night patrol to somewhere else, I believe it was detectives, but don’t quote me on that. In any event, I was glad to be rid of him. Also during that time, I got a new partner on the mounted unit. Eventually, Crowley was tapped to command the community police unit, whose hours are 12noon-8pm. At that time, my partner and I were working our winter hours, which were 9am-5pm. Crowley somehow convinced the acting chief at the time to put the mounted unit under his command, even though we only worked five common hours with him (12noon-5pm) versus seven common hours with the day patrol captain (9am-4pm).

Now, things turned from petty to outright mean.

Now, the game consisted of “guess your assignment”. It started off that I would be getting ready for work, when the phone would ring. Crowley doesn’t want you on the horse today, you’re walking Wollaston Center. Not content with that, the calls started coming as we were on the way to the barn, which meant turning around, going home, changing uniforms, etc. That still wasn’t good enough for Crowley, so it soon became the call would come on the radio, after we had arrived in Quincy with the horses.

After a couple of weeks of this, I decided to save time & aggravation by just wearing my regular uniform (instead of the riding breeches & tall boots) and going straight to the police station. When I did this, I stuck my head in the desk sergeant’s office and asked “Wollaston Center, sarge?” to which he replied “You got it”. I think you know where this is going.

When Crowley arrived for work at noontime, his first act was probably to see what I was doing, He apparently didn’t like the fact I beat him at his own game that day, because shortly after noon, I got a radio message to call the desk sergeant. When he picked up the phone, the sergeant was laughing, but in a sympathetic way. You just know what he said…….”Crowley is pissed off you’re not riding the horse. Go home, change, and get to the barn”.

I should mention all this came at a time when my wife was pregnant with twins (she was eventually put on bed rest), and I was finishing my Master’s degree. In addition to the stress of my home life, as well as racing from the barn to make a 6pm class, still stinking of horse (the looks from my classmates were priceless), I really didn’t need Crowley’s childish games in my life.

I finally had my epiphany with Crowley shortly after my children were born. I was leaving a class at the Woburn Police Department, and as I walked to my car I powered-up my cell phone, which I had turned-off during class, for obvious reasons. There was a message from my wife, asking me to call her as soon as I got the message. I could tell from the tone of her voice that something was wrong, so I called immediately. The first thing I heard when she picked up the phone was the babies screaming. They both had colic, and any parent will tell you how much fun a colicky baby can be.

Well, imagine it in stereo.

I could tell my wife had been crying, and she said she was at the end of her rope. She begged me to take the next day off, so she could get some sleep while I stayed up with the babies (all cops are used to staying up all night). Of course I agreed, but suggested I just take a half-vacation day, since I had used a lot of time after the babies were born, and didn’t want to deplete all of it. She said fine, anything, as long as she could get some rest. So, on the way home I stopped at the police station and had the desk sergeant put me in for a half-vacation day. Right next to the entry, it said “In at 1pm”.

I went home that evening and stayed up with babies most of the night, and let me tell you, it was a loooooooong night. I caught a few hours of sleep in the morning after my wife woke-up, and I headed to the station for my half-shift. Even the most anti-Crowley people reading this probably aren’t going to believe what happened next.

I went inside the station, where the day lieutenant grabbed me. He looked like he was trying to tell me I had terminal cancer, he looked so uncomfortable. He told me I needed to go home, because Crowley had cancelled my half-vacation day and marked me AWOL. At first I thought he was kidding, because it was common knowledge by this time to every member of the QPD that Crowley had it out for me. I started to believe him when he retained his stone face when I started laughing and said “Oh, come on!” I went over to the vacation log book, and was horrified to see the lieutenant was most certainly not kidding. Where my half-vacation day was written had a big red “X” through it, and “Cancelled – Capt. R.C.” next to it.

R.C.= Robert Crowley.

Those who know me best will tell you I’m VERY slow to anger, but when I do lose my temper, the resulting spectacle beats the hell out of the Super Bowl halftime show. I stormed up to the office of then-Chief Bill Falco, and opening the door, who do I see standing there, but Falco & Crowley together, so we went inside Falco’s office to have it out. Contrary to the urban legends at the QPD, I did not go over the desk after Falco (Why would I? My problem wasn’t with him), but I did suggest to Crowley we settle our differences like men, an invitation he pretended he didn’t hear.

Trust me; the custodian in the basement probably heard it.

It got so heated that Falco actually put himself between me and Crowley, which was completely unnecessary, because as mad as I was, I’m not that stupid. I do admit I was secretly praying for Crowley to swing first, but alas, no such luck. I ended up leaving the office, past the assorted jaws dropped in the outer office, and going home.

Of course I filed a grievance over this, and it ended up at city hall. During the hearing in front of the mayor’s representative, Roberta Kety, our argument was very simple. When it came time for us to present our side, the then-vice president of the QPPOA, Dick Praetsch, turned to Chief Falco, and asked for a copy of the AWOL policy for the Quincy Police Department. Falco stated there wasn’t one, it was just understood. Kety said “You know better than that, chief”.

Chalk one up for the good guys.

As a side benefit, I earned my Master’s degree during the time between the incident and the grievance hearing, so when I got the day’s pay returned to me, I got a 5% return on the money, thanks to the Quinn Bill. Better than any bank.

Three things happened that fateful day in Falco’s office;

1) Crowley never bothered me again.

2) The chief’s secretary became convinced I was completely insane.

3) I became determined to somehow stop Crowley, because I hate bullies.

Anyone who would relentlessly harass a new father of newborn twins is, in my opinion, clearly not suited to be in a position of power. I decided to get involved with the union, get some experience, and eventually run for president.

So…..that’s why I do what I do. And, contrary to what you may think, this really isn’t revenge for what he did to me. Well, maybe it is partly, but it’s mostly so that the current & future officers who Crowley might see as an easy mark won’t have to go through the living hell I did.

Do you still think I’m a “little out there?”

Sunday October 15, 2006 3:09 AM

Never Look a Gift Horse in the Mouth - Bruce Tait

“Your temper will get you in trouble. Your pride will keep you there”. – Anonymous

One of the few aspects of the Quincy Police Department that Chief Crowley doesn’t regularly micro-manage is the Training Division, so it shouldn’t come as a surprise that it’s also one of the smoothest run areas of the department. The Training Director, Lieutenant Charlie Santoro, is the first one since I’ve been on the job that actually wanted the position, and he does a very good job. Besides regular legal updates (a first for us), we also occasionally get something not related to training, but interesting and/or informative, such as his ongoing newsletter “Old Cops Know Stuff”.

Just recently, Lieutenant Santoro started to reprint, in small sections, the book “The Long Blue Line”, a history of the Quincy Police Department written by Peter F. Stevens in 1988. I received a copy of this book when I was appointed to the QPD, and while it’s very interesting, it’s been collecting dust in my bookshelf for years.

As I flipped through the first section tonight, I was amazed to see how much things have changed, and how much they’ve stayed the same since the Quincy Police Department was formally established in the 1800’s, replacing a force of constables. Things have stayed the same in that our founding brother officers faced “drunks, idlers, young toughs, and assorted troublemakers”, while the first use of the police call box system was for a disorderly drunk at the intersection of Washington Street & Chubbuck Street, a call and location I’m intimately familiar with (I patrol that area of the city).

However, things have also changed quite a bit. We make a bit more than the $16 per week our first officers did, but we also have radically different leadership. The second Quincy Police Chief was Joseph W. Hayden, who ironically enough, would place very well in a Bob Crowley lookalike contest. The picture of him shows more than a passing resemblance, except Hayden’s uniform, unlike Crowley’s, doesn’t make him look like he should be on the label of a Spanish wine bottle.

As we all know, looks can be deceiving, and even identical twins can have radically different personalities. After reading about Chief Hayden, I’ve come to the conclusion he’s the Bizarro Crowley, because he was the exact opposite of him. In the book, Hayden is described as a tough but fair chief whose main concern was for his men. He “hammered away” at city hall for a new police station and improved equipment for his officers, including a police call box system. Prior to the call box system, Quincy Police Officers had to rely on streetcar conductors to relay messages between them, but when the streetcars stopped running at night, the officers were on their own, and probably had to put some serious lumber to their prisoners because of it.

Hmmmm…..Quincy Police Officers without reliable communication. Where have I heard that before??

Chief Hayden was very much a proponent of technology, such as it was at the turn of the century. Besides a call box system, Hayden pressed for a horse-drawn patrol wagon, so officers needing help would get it much more quickly. Even when he had to take disciplinary action against his officers, he asked for their side of the story instead of just lashing out in a fit of rage. As I said, he was the Bizarro Crowley. It’s obvious to me that Chief Hayden was a stand-up guy, and I could definitely work for someone like him. Unfortunately, I was born about 100 years too late to work for Chief Hayden, so I’m stuck with the Bizarro Hayden.

One of the positive things that came out of the 9/11 tragedy was that the Federal government has opened their checkbook for law enforcement. The amount of training and equipment that’s available under Homeland Security grants is staggering, and we’re fortunate to have a sergeant with military experience who knows how to get all sorts of free training & equipment. Unfortunately, we’re not dealing with Chief Hayden, who was always looking to upgrade the equipment and working conditions of his officers. My moles in the superior officer ranks tell me that Chief Crowley refuses to sign almost any grant put in front of him, especially if it would result in overtime for the patrol force.

What’s even more infuriating is that Homeland Security has offered the Quincy Police Department 5 police K-9 dogs, as well as vehicles and training for the handlers, totally free. This is sorely needed, because under Crowley’s watch, the Quincy Police K-9 Unit has dropped from 3 dogs to 1 dog, and if that dog retired tomorrow, I guarantee that would be the end of the QPD K-9 program, because Crowley has it out for K-9’s. I mean, he REALLY has it out for K-9’s. One of the recent QPD K-9 officers retired before he had to, simply because he got sick of being harassed by Crowley, and another K-9 officer left the program for the same reason.

Why does Crowley have it out for K-9 officers? I speculate for two reasons;

1) Because he never worked as a street cop, Crowley has no clue as to how valuable a K-9 is to an actual street cop. Besides the obvious benefit in tracking suspects, K-9 dogs are worth their weight in gold for building searches. For example, there is an abandoned nursing home on Elm Street where a few years ago, became a magnet for criminal activity. The windows weren’t boarded and there was no alarm system, but there was electricity and heat, so the homeless were breaking into the building on a weekly basis. I personally arrested almost a dozen people for B&E into this building.

We would check the building a few times a night, and would invariably find a broken window, indicating someone was inside. Now, this place is MASSIVE. It looks deceiving from the outside, but it’s huge on the inside. Without a K-9 dog, we would have to climb through the window, and then manually search the building, which would take about an hour. Besides the time constraints, there is also the issue of officer safety. Searching a huge abandoned nursing home is dangerous, because there are so many hiding spots for suspects.

With a K-9 dog, searching the building was a snap. After the handler issued his verbal warnings, he’d send the dog in, and if there was someone inside, the dog would find them in short order. You can’t hide from a dog’s nose. Yet, Crowley thinks police dogs are a “waste of money” (direct quote).

Well, when you’ve never had to actually conduct a building search yourself, that’s a very easy statement to make. If Crowley had ever had to walk down the hallway of an abandoned nursing home, not knowing if someone was waiting around the next corner with a weapon, I guarantee you he’d change his mind about K-9’s.

2) I’ve heard this from several veteran and retired officers, but it’s very much unconfirmed. What I’ve heard is that Crowley has it out for K-9 officers because he was treated rather poorly by the very first QPD K-9 people, back in the early-mid 1970’s. What I’ve heard, again very much unconfirmed, is that Crowley was like George McFly in “Back to the Future”, while the K-9 officers were like Biff and his buddies. I’ve just heard stories.

Back to the 5 K-9 dogs the Feds want to give us. From what I’ve heard, Crowley has tried everything possible to torpedo this, I speculate because besides his hatred of police dogs, it would greatly benefit the patrol force, and also make 5 patrol officers VERY happy people. I’m confident that we’ll eventually get them, because city hall is aware of the offer, and I’ve heard that Mayor Phelan is thrilled with the thought of 5 free dogs, vehicles, and training, as any normal person would be.

Our mayor is thrilled about getting the dogs, while our police chief is not. I don’t think I can sum it up any better than that.

If Crowley’s hatred of K-9’s needs to be showcased further, I shall do just that. Tonight (technically last night), I was waiting for a tow truck to recover a stolen vehicle on Avalon Avenue when the sole surviving K-9 officer of Crowley’s K-9 purge “chirped” me on the Nextel. This officer is a former vice-president and secretary of the QPPOA, so he knows the deal. He’s been out injured with a line-of-duty injury for 3 weeks, and is scheduled to undergo an MRI exam soon. What he told me didn’t exactly shock me, being the student of Crowley’s behavior that I am. However, it should shock you.

At virtually every law enforcement agency I’ve ever heard of, K-9 handlers have take-home cruisers, and their dogs live with them. That makes perfect sense, because the handlers are on-call, 24/7, to respond to a call for assistance, and having the dog live with the handler further cements the tight bond between handler and dog.

On Friday, October 13th, Crowley called the desk sergeant, telling him to have someone go to this K-9 officer’s house, and take his cruiser away. My observations about this;

1) What is the reasoning for this? This officer has been out injured for 3 weeks, and now Crowley has suddenly decided to take his cruiser away? Did it not occur to him in the last 21 days that this officer was out injured?

2) Because it’s a K-9 car, this cruiser is of no value to the patrol force. Because of the dog cage in the back seat, it would be like driving a Corvette on patrol, a two-seater. Besides that, most officers would rather walk than drive a cruiser that smells like a wet dog.

3) Why didn’t Crowley just call the K-9 officer, and tell him he had to turn-in his cruiser? Rhetorical question…..Crowley NEVER directly confronts anyone, especially a former union official who has a set. As usual, and as always, he designates someone else to do his dirty work.

4) What good is this cruiser going to do, sitting in the police parking lot? If it stayed at the officer’s house, it might at least serve as a crime deterrent in the neighborhood, as this officer lives in Quincy.

After having the conversation with this officer, the wheels in my head started to turn. On the Friday this officer was ordered to relinquish his cruiser, I worked my regular shift, which is 4pm-Midnight. When I came out of roll call at about 4:10pm, I noticed that Crowley’s Explorer was still in the “Chief of Police” parking spot on the back ramp. No big deal, as he’s been known to stay late (he works 8am-4pm) on occasion.

However, when I came to the police station to file a report past 8pm, the Explorer was still there. And, it was still there last night (Saturday).

It’s apparent that Crowley, for reasons known only to him, decided to leave the Explorer at the police station for the weekend, and seek alternate transportation home. Has Captain Dougan added “chauffeur” to his job description?

Now, I’m on record that I think Crowley should have access to a police vehicle, 24/7, because his position as the chief of police for a large city demands it. Why did he decide to ditch the Explorer this weekend?

Who knows?

Who really cares?

More importantly, I think, is the timing of him having the K-9 officer relinquish his take-home cruiser. Because Crowley decided, for whatever reasons, to not take his Explorer home, it probably frosted his butt that a patrol officer, one of his sworn enemies, had a take-home cruiser for the weekend, so he got on the horn to the desk sergeant to “right” this “wrong”. After 3 weeks.

If Crowley can’t have his take-home car, apparently no one else can.

My almost 5 year-old son has a similar attitude about his toys.

Our chief of police.

Saturday October 14, 2006 2:53 AM

DOWN WITH BIG BROTHER! - Bruce Tait

War is Peace.
Freedom is Slavery.
Ignorance is Strength.
- The Party of Oceania

“Going down the memory hole” - the alteration or outright disappearance of inconvenient or embarrassing documents, photographs, transcripts, or other records.

I probably went over a few people’s heads awhile back when I referred to a “memory hole” and “Victory Gin”. Allow me to explain.

In 1948, George Orwell wrote his masterpiece, the novel “1984”, which is a bleak examination of the world in 1984, when the entire world is divided into three countries; Oceania, Eurasia, and Eastasia. The main character in the book, Winston Smith, lives in Oceania, which is a brutal totalitarian society run by “the Party” and its shadowy head figure, “Big Brother”. Every aspect of the citizen’s lives in Oceania are monitored by the Thought Police, who will arrest & torture those suspected of thought crimes, i.e. any thoughts against the Party.

Smith works for the Ministry of Truth, which is in charge of doctoring history books, newspapers, and other written material that doesn’t dovetail with the ever-changing philosophy of the Party. For example, if it was published in the newspaper that chocolate rations would never fall below 30 grams per week, and it became necessary to reduce them to 20 grams per week, the Ministry of Truth redacts all references to the 30 grams per week, and replaces it with 20 grams. The material referencing 30 grams is put down the “memory hole”, which leads to an incinerator so hot, “not even ashes remain”. The goal of the Ministry of Truth is to perfect “Newspeak”, which is a series of phrases and sayings that will eventually eliminate the conceptualization of any speech that criticizes the Party or Big Brother.

Needless to say, Winston Smith hates his job, and longs to join the “Brotherhood”, which is an anti-Party insurgent group. Smith’s only pleasures in life are writing “DOWN WITH BIG BROTHER” in his diary and drinking Victory Gin, which is a Party-issued, noxious distilled beverage that smells and tastes like rubbing alcohol.

I won’t tell you any more, since I’ve sufficiently set-up my storyline, and perhaps I’ve interested those who haven’t read the book to do so, because it’s excellent. If you graduated high school without reading “1984”, shame on your teachers.

Anyway…..at the Quincy Police Department, we have our own memory hole, albeit figurative, not literal. Whenever Chief Crowley gets caught with his pants down, his handlers move into damage control mode, and the Party line is either that everything is a misunderstanding, or the embarrassing situation they created simply goes away, they remain silent about it for awhile, then quietly correct things. Two examples;

On August 7th of this year, I told you all about the new domestic violence pamphlets that were foisted on us (scroll down to see George C. Scott as Patton). To quickly review…..those things were train wrecks, as domestic violence victims really didn’t need to know how many cruisers we have, how many miles of coastline we protect, etc. Basically, they were designed to puff-up Crowley. Well, shortly after I posted that entry, there was a mini-s***storm inside 1 Sea Street. One superior officer had a meltdown of epic proportions, while another found it necessary to write an open letter to the entire department, defending the new pamphlets. Guys….it wasn’t a personal attack on you. I didn’t even know you two had anything to do with them.

Shortly afterwards, I was in the report room (where, naturally enough, report forms are kept), looking for the new pamphlets, as my supply was depleted, and we had been told at roll call to use the new ones, as opposed to the old cards. Conveniently enough, all of them were gone. Just the previous day, there was a huge stack of them, probably 4 inches high, but now they were all gone. A couple of days after this, I happened to be speaking with Captain Dougan about a totally unrelated matter, when I mentioned there were no domestic violence pamphlets in the report room. He told me they were “being redesigned”.

Well, what a coincidence!! That huge stack of pamphlets apparently wasn’t gobbled up by an eager officer expecting 500 domestic calls the next shift, they were simply sent down the memory hole. Just recently, the new, improved, redesigned domestic violence pamphlets were unveiled. Guess what? All the fluff I mentioned on August 7th also went down the memory hole. The new pamphlets are straight to the point, with no unnecessary bulls***, exactly as the old cards were.

I should say they weren’t really unveiled; they just appeared in the report room one day, with no announcement or fanfare. Crowley apparently hadn’t perfected Newspeak sufficiently to explain this sudden reemergence of the pamphlets.

And remember folks, the Party says this website is ineffectual and counterproductive.

Example #2;

My immediate last entry (directly below) concerned Crowley’s outrageous and reprehensible efforts to seek-out our personal medical information, while he refused to file a legally required document for a job he held for 9 months. The morning after I posted that, I received a phone call from Captain Dougan, as I suspect he’s a faithful reader of this column. He expressed concern about the situation I described, since he’s a good & reasonable person that’s been put into a very difficult and unenviable position, i.e. trying to control and manage Crowley.

He asked which officer I was referring to, and when I told him, he sounded genuinely shocked. He told me that officer’s physician’s notes have been accepted all along, and I agreed. I also told him that Crowley had suddenly decided the notes weren’t acceptable, because the officer’s latest one was sent back, with a sticky asking for specific details about the officer’s medical condition. Dougan insisted there must be a misunderstanding, and asked me to leave him a copy of the note for him. I told him I would have the note later that afternoon, and would leave a copy for him.

About 15 minutes went by, and Dougan called me back. He told me the actual problem was that the note from the physician wasn’t on official letterhead, not anything to do with asking specific medical information. Since I had not yet seen the actual note at this point, I had to accept this at face value. I was told by Dougan that I could tell the officer there was no problem, to not worry about it. Just as I was preparing to hang-up, I got a bad feeling, like hearing a guitar player hitting the wrong chord during a song. I asked Dougan as he was getting ready to hang-up, “So now you don’t need letterhead?”, and he simply said everything was fine, to not worry about it.

When I got to work that afternoon, I got to see the original physician’s note. Sure enough, it wasn’t on “official” letterhead, but it was a form letter probably used by 99% of the physicians in the country. The note excused the officer from work, due to a medical issue, signed by an M.D., a physician. Stuck to the bottom of the note was a “sticky note” (those little yellow stick-on notes), with a handwritten note;

“Lt. (no need to mention his name),

Please have (officer’s name) describe nature of (medical issue) or come see me.

Thanks!

(signed - chief’s secretary)”

Now, I honestly try to occasionally take a step back, and impartially examine the absurdity that is the Quincy Police Department, to look at it from the perspective of an outsider. Is there ANYTHING remotely ambiguous or not clear about that note? Does it have the slightest possible thing to do with not being on official letterhead? I realize that at this point, I’m probably too jaded and cynical to have a truly unbiased opinion, so please tell me if I’m wrong.

So….after I got this note, I called Captain Dougan back. When I read him the exact wording of the note, he did the honorable thing, and fell on his sword to protect his boss. He told me it was a big misunderstanding, and that it was his fault. When I pressed him about how there could be no misunderstanding of the wording of that note, he said it was his mistake.

Now, I’ve known John Dougan since even before I was appointed to the Quincy Police Department, and you’ll never meet a more honest, loyal person in your life. He’s also a family man, and there is no doubt whatsoever in my mind that he empathizes with the officer who is submitting these notes. That’s why I find it incredibly hard to believe he had anything to do with this.

More likely scenario; Crowley was examining physician’s notes of sick & injured officers (as he examines EVERY overtime slip) when he decided this officer’s note wasn’t specific enough. Instead of just calling this officer, Crowley decided to use his usual bully tactic of having someone else do the dirty work.

He most likely told his secretary, “Have Lieutenant ______ tell that a-hole to be more specific about this medical thing”. You see, Crowley never actually confronts anyone, so by doing it that way, it creates two levels of insulation he can hide behind….the lieutenant and his secretary. This is consistent with Crowley’s QPD career, because it was never him; it was always the person above him.

When he was a sergeant – “It’s not me, it’s the lieutenant”

When he was a lieutenant – “It’s not me, it’s the captain”.

When he was a captain – “It’s not me, it’s the chief”.

Now that he’s the chief, he’s reached the ceiling, and has run out of superiors to blame, so now he has to switch to blaming things on subordinates. Or, letting subordinates take the blame.

I speculate that after I brought this matter to Captain Dougan’s attention, he called Crowley, explained what explosive thin ice he was on by demanding details of medical conditions, and talked him off the ledge. Yet again.

So…the Newspeak of the Quincy Police Department says that when the chief’s office orders us to reveal very personal medical information, that actually means they want a generic physician’s note on official letterhead.

Got it?

I think I need a shot or two of Victory Gin. Maybe three.

Thursday October 12, 2006 2:18 AM

Beyond Bizarre - Bruce Tait

"Don't bend; don't water it down; don't try to make it logical; don't edit your own soul according to the fashion. Rather, follow your most intense obsessions mercilessly". – Franz Kafka (1883-1924)

Franz Kafka, who suffered from clinical depression and social anxiety disorder most of his life, would have gotten along great with Chief Bob Crowley, based on that quote above. Besides the common interest in relentlessly following your obsessions, Kafka’s body of work is generally considered to be laced with outright absurdity, much like our police chief.

After we voted “NO CONFIDENCE” in Crowley on September 7th of this year, the Patriot Ledger ran a story on the vote the next day;

http://ledger.southofboston.com/articles/2006/09/08/news/news07.txt

In the story, reporter Chris Walker had one of the most spot-on, accurate statements I’ve ever seen in print media. He wrote in part, “Critics describe the chief as an overbearing authoritarian too quick to take sides against officers, a micro-manager to a level bordering on the bizarre, and an administrator whose reluctance to pay for overtime poses a safety risk to officers and the public”.

The only problem I have with that statement is that Crowley’s micro-managing doesn’t border on the bizarre, it’s COMPLETELY bizarre. It’s beyond bizarre.

For example, at Wednesday’s weekly staff meeting, Crowley was complaining about a 3 hour overtime slip for an officer who recently had to appear in a lawyer’s office for some type of deposition or other proceeding. My moles tell me (yes, we do have honorary members who wear gold badges, many of them) that Crowley personally reviews every overtime slip submitted by a member of the department. That may work in East Podunk, with a total of 4 police officers, but the Quincy Police Department isn’t exactly a small agency. We’re in the top-ten largest municipal police agencies in the state, with over 200 sworn personnel. Counting the civilian support staff, Crowley is in charge of something like 250 employees, but his energies are so misdirected, he wants to personally inspect every overtime slip.

What’s the matter, chief? Trying to break your record of returning $1.4 million to the city at the end of a fiscal year, while your officers answer dangerous calls alone, with crappy equipment?

If that’s all Crowley’s micromanaging did, I’d just let it slide, because I know of no officers who haven’t been eventually paid the overtime due them. However, there are much more dangerous repercussions from this absurdity.

Last night, I received a very disturbing phone call from a member of this association. This member has been having some serious medical and personal issues, which has required some significant use of sick time. I’m not going to describe the circumstances, but suffice to say it doesn’t get much more personal and legitimate than what this officer has had to go through.

In accordance with Crowley’s sick time manifesto, this officer has been submitting notes from a physician, explaining there are legitimate medical issues that excuse the officer’s use of significant sick time. All has been well & good, until recently.

Now, this officer has been told that the physician’s notes, dating back to a year ago, are suddenly no good, because they’re not specific enough in regards to the circumstances of the officer’s condition.

First off, I want to know who the hell Bob Crowley is, to question the opinion of a physician? If a medical doctor says that a condition is legitimate, that’s the end of it. Has Crowley’s Master’s degree in Criminal Justice from Anna Maria College suddenly morphed into a M.D.?

Second, I want to know, who the HELL does Bob Crowley think he is, asking for personal medical information?? Like so many other aspects of his life, this is a classic “do as I say, not as I do”. There is nothing more sacred than the confidentiality between a physician and their patient, but he expects us to sign it away, simply because he wants us to.

Yet, he won’t even file a financial disclosure, for a position where he knew going in, it was required. Once we called him on it, he tucked his tail, resigned, and ran away.

GIMME A……..H – Y – P – O – C – R – I – T - E

What does that spell?

HYPOCRITE!!!!!

I’ll make a deal with Crowley. Since he so badly wants us to sign away our confidentiality rights with our physicians, I’ll give him full access to the medical records of the person he probably hates the most. I’ll make public my complete medical history, including any possible files of mental health treatment, provided he does the same.

I have nothing to hide.

Do you, chief?