Flatfoot

Flatfoot


"Good afternoon, Academy graduates, ladies and gentlemen, friends and relatives. I’ve been invited to speak here today to congratulate you, to inspire you and to hopefully impart to you some pearls of wisdom taken from my thirty five years as a New York City police officer."

Standing at the podium, Chief Inspector Frank Nolan took a sip of water as he waited for the polite applause to quiet down. He looked around the auditorium at the newly minted cops wearing brand new blue uniforms with white gloves. The brass buttons would never be shinier. The gloves would not be seen again except for funerals and parades. Parents, spouses, children, friends and God knows who else sat in the rows behind them and off to the sides. Everyone seemed very happy. Frank knew they all had a lot to learn.

Frank fixed his gaze on the proud, young faces in the front rows. "First off, I want to congratulate all of you on the successful completion of your initial training at the New York City Police Academy. You are now officially members of New York City’s Finest." This remark triggered more applause and Frank again waited for it to quiet down. He continued, "Secondly, I promise that my address will not be long so that we can all get home soon to start the barbecues." Frank grinned as the auditorium filled with more applause, as well as a few cheers and whistles. He again focused his attention on the graduates.

"When I graduated way back in 1967, before all of you were born, I was stoked, as they say in the T.V. commercial. I had decided that I was going to be the best cop who ever walked a beat. Yes, we had beats in those days. I was a member of the beat generation, you might say." Frank smiled as the older members of the audience responded with an appreciative chuckle. "Although I no longer fit the image, you can think of me as a former sixties flower child." Coming from this obviously tough, street-wise cop, the remark evoked more chuckles from the audience. So far, so good.

"One of the big lessons of life that I’m still learning is that things don’t always turn out the way you thought they would and people aren’t always what they seem." Frank paused for a moment to let the thought sink in. He noticed some heads, mostly gray, nodding in agreement in the audience. "As police officers, your formal training has been designed to reflect these basic facts of life. But it’s experience, and not just police experience, that really helps these lessons sink in."

Frank gazed momentarily at his notes. He looked up again and was reassured that the audience, except for a few restless children, was still with him.

"As you know, your first assignment will pair each of you with a more experienced officer who has, as they say, been around the block a few times. Listen carefully to what your partner tells you. You will learn things that they didn’t teach you in the Academy. Life lessons that you won’t find in a text book." Frank looked down at his notes again and decided to forget them.

"My first partner had been a cop for twenty-one years when I was assigned to him back in 1967. His nickname was Rusty and he was an Irishman who emigrated to America when he was sixteen years old looking for a better life." For a moment, Frank scanned faces in the audience. They were still with him. Frank continued, "He was, I guess, in his mid forties and he had a bit of a beer belly that he later told me he had earned. He joined the Police Department after having served as a marine on several Pacific islands, including Iwo Jima, during World War Two. He was, suffice it to say, one tough cop. Now as a young fellow, I used to like to think of myself as a smart, savvy college type who would eventually take the world by storm and show everybody, including Rusty, what I was made of and how things should be done. What a mistake that was!" Frank was relieved to hear the audience react with genuine laughter.

"I was, one might say, naïve. I was also somewhat of an idealist, like many young people tend to be. Rusty was aware of this and he even acknowledged once that I was probably smarter than he was. As I recall, the way he phrased it was something like this." Frank now tried to mimic his old partner’s Irish brogue. "‘Listen, kid. I may not be the brightest crayon in the box and your IQ may be higher than mine but don’t you ever think you’re a better survivor than me.’" There was a big audience laugh this time. Frank wasn’t sure if they were tickled by the words or by his make-believe brogue.

"The very first day Rusty and I went out on patrol in a squad car, Rusty drove. He showed me around the Williamburg, Brooklyn section, which to this day isn’t the best of neighborhoods as far as crime is concerned. He pointed things out to me that I would never have noticed myself. At one point, we drove past a small group of known troublemakers standing on a street corner. As we passed, one of them yelled "’Hey flatfoot!’" Once he knew he had my attention, he said some very nasty things, that I cannot repeat here, about my mother." More laughter. Frank sensed that the New York audience could relate to what he was saying. "Of course, I felt a need to defend the honor of my mother, who never hurt a fly in her life. I immediately demanded that Rusty stop the car so that we could confront these villains and I could defend my mother’s honor. Now what followed was one of Rusty’s life lessons. He just keep driving, much to my chagrin. A while later, as I was sulking, he said to me, ‘ Kid, you gotta learn to pick your battles. Your mother doesn’t care anything about what that punk had to say. But she would care if you got yourself all hung up because you didn’t like some wiseguy practicing his freedom of speech.’ I thought about that for a while and later came to realize that Rusty was right. It would have been a no win situation not just for me but for Rusty as well." Frank paused to take a sip of water and, as he did, he saw that the audience was still with him.

Frank continued, "Did I mention that I was a bit naïve and an idealist? Well, Rusty knew how to deal with that as well. Only this time, he let me learn the hard way. I had decided that the Police Department needed help with public relations and I told Rusty about my plan to improve the public’s image of the police. It was Christmas week and I had this notion that if we placed a Christmas card on the windshield of each parked car in our patrol area, the people in the neighborhood would come to realize that we were just people too and that we were really on their side. I couldn’t understand at the time why Rusty had this ironic smile on face the whole time I explained the plan. Finally, he said, ‘Forget it, kid. It’s not a good idea.’ I got upset about Rusty’s attitude and I told him so. He responded that if I was going to proceed with my plan, I would be solely responsible and that he would not sign any of the cards. I was really incensed now and felt a crusader’s desire to prove to this infidel that people can be reached through kindness and understanding. So I went out and, with my own money, bought about a hundred cheap Christmas cards that showed Santa with his reindeer and on the inside read, ‘Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.’ Sounds harmless, right?" Frank paused momentarily as if waiting for an answer. "It took hours to sign all the cards, ‘Patrolman Frank Nolan, NYPD.’ On Christmas Eve, I walked the neighborhood while Rusty followed me in the car. I remember how cold I was - it was about fifteen degrees. It took a couple of hours but I managed to place all those cards on windshields. Afterwards, I was glad to get back into the warm car but I felt good because I had achieved a moral victory and proved that age and experience were not always the best attributes of a good cop. Rusty saw that I was gloating but he just smiled and said nothing." Frank paused once more and looked around. He was relieved to see that many in the audience seemed interested. He continued.

"I had off the next two days and returned for duty three days later. As I walked into the precinct house, I ran into Rusty who told me that the boss of the precinct, Captain Breen, was waiting to see me in his office right away. I was stunned. This must be it. I imagined that my Christmas cards were a public relations triumph and now I was going to be promoted and put in charge of a major P.R. program for the NYPD. As I headed for the Captain’s office, Rusty said to me, ‘Nice goin,’ which confirmed my expectations. I knocked on the Captain’s door and heard him yell ‘Come in.’ I straightened my tie, brushed my self off and entered. Captain Breen sat behind his desk and motioned for me to take a seat in front of the desk between two other officers already seated. I didn’t recognize either of the other men. I figured they must be with the Public Relations Department. ‘You wanted to see me, Sir?", I said. The Captain, looking very serious, introduced me to the others. ‘Nolan, this is Lieutenant Mills and Sergeant Grasso. They’re with the Internal Affairs Division.’ Both men nodded but did not offer handshakes. I thought to myself ‘Why would IAD get involved with PR?’" There was laughter at this remark and Frank took the opportunity to sip some water. He continued.

"Captain Breen then enlightened me. He said ‘Nolan, IAD has received about twenty complaints from citizens in your patrol area who claim that you’re pressuring them for pay-offs.’ I was flabbergasted. But I was also fascinated by the Captain’s face as it turned bright red with restrained rage as he spoke. ‘We also heard from four Jews, two Muslims and one atheist that you have insulted them by putting Christmas cards on their windshields,’ he yelled. By now, the Captain’s face was as red as Rudolph’s nose and finally he lost it. I think I heard the glass in his door rattle when he shouted at me, ‘NOLAN, WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?’ I remember that all the ordinary office sounds outside ceased abruptly. In the dead silence that followed, he waited for my answer leaning forward over his desk with his bulging eyes in that red face glaring at me. I tried to explain that my intentions were good and that it never occurred to me that my effort to promote good will would ever be interpreted in such a way. The IAD folks questioned me a bit more about my intentions and then finally, much to my relief, they let me off the hook but the Captain warned me never to do such a thing again without prior official NYPD approval." As the audience laughed, Frank could feel beads of sweat trickle down his neck. It was almost as if he had just relived the experience. He took a big sip of water this time. Then he went on.

"Needless to say, I was very happy to get out of the Captain’s office in one piece. When I later got into the car with Rusty, he didn’t say a word. He was wise enough to know he didn’t have to. Later that day, as we patrolled the neighborhood, the owner of the local hardware store came out and approached the car. Of course, we stopped to see what his problem was. He came over with a big smile on his face and, in a foreign accent, said ‘Merry Christmas, Officer.’ He then handed me the card that I had apparently left on his windshield. I opened it and a ten dollar bill fell out on my lap. I looked at Rusty and he just smiled. Did I mention that the Captain warned me that I had to immediately return any gifts I might receive? It took me about ten minutes to convince the hardware store owner that I couldn’t accept his gift. I even had to follow him into his store to get him to take the money back. Rusty sat back and thoroughly enjoyed the whole scene. I would like to tell you that the episode ended there but it didn’t. Over the next four or five weeks, I had similar scenes with about twenty other generous souls. And Rusty enjoyed every one of them." Frank paused again and was glad that the audience didn’t appear bored. He looked at the clock on the wall and remembered his promise to keep it brief.

"About a week later, I finally swallowed my pride and admitted to Rusty that he had been right and that I should have listened to him. I found out then that Rusty had explained the situation to Captain Breen and the IAD investigators just before I went into the Captain’s office. But the Captain decided to read me the Riot Act anyway. Rusty then gave me some words to live by that I shall now pass on to you. He said, ‘Lad, you have to remember that there are times when no good deed goes unpunished. The trick is to recognize when those times occur before you act like a boy scout. Learn this and you’ll save yourself and maybe others a lot of grief.’ In other words, think before you act. It was good advice." Frank paused again and decided to wrap it up.

"I partnered with Rusty until he retired two years later. We remained friends over the years and I continued to seek his counsel whenever I ran into uncertain situations. I hope that all of you are as fortunate as I was in finding someone like Rusty. He may not have been the brightest crayon in the box, as he himself said, but he was wise in the ways of world and he knew things that aren’t taught at Oxford or any other school. He passed away about two years ago. I can regale you with many more anecdotes about Rusty, but we don’t have time for that. I will just tell you that I remember him not just for his wit and wisdom but mainly for his honor, his integrity and his desire to serve. If you can partner with someone like him, then you’re off to a great start. If you can become like him, then you will be a good police officer and a good human being. Good luck to all of you."