Long before 9/11 created the problems our police are now facing I was on my way to a meeting out at Edwards Air Force Base. It was late afternoon and I was traveling in one of the more remote and desolate areas of the base- no traffic in sight on the road. It was about an hour before sunset and the desert was beautiful and serene. I was driving my old Chevy pickup, coffee cup and cigarette doing their usual duty when suddenly seemingly out of nowhere a base patrol car came roaring up behind me, lights flashing and siren wailing. Having learned no less than three times from the California Highway Patrol that obeying the speed limit is no guarantee of not getting a ticket because of abuse under color of authority, I resignedly pulled off to the side of the road.

The minion of the law stayed in his unit for some time jawjacking into his mic. He finally got out, and hand ostentatiously on his gun slowly came up to the rear of the driver’s side of my truck. I had the window down and the officer, staying well behind the door, unusual I thought, asked for my license and registration. He seemed to be exceptionally cautious about advancing any further to me than absolutely necessary, and I had to awkwardly bend backward out of the window to hand them to him which he took from me with his left hand the right staying on his gun.

In a most unusual maneuver he walked backwards toward his car never taking his eyes from me all the while keeping his hand on his gun, and a CHP unit pulled up parking behind the base officer’s car. That officer got out and joined the base cop. Then another base unit pulled up. There were now three units and all the cops were conversing, watching me carefully all the while. It dawned on me that I must fit the description of some dangerous criminal.

Realizing that it might take some time for them to sort things out, I lit another cigarette and reached for my coffee cup. Empty. Oh, well, I had my thermos but it had rolled under the seat of the truck.

Another CHP unit arrived, and on its heels another base car both of them parking in front of me. I was surrounded. It occurred to me that in spite of my innocence if I were to make a sudden lunge for the thermos under my seat I might make the headlines. There were a dozen itchy-fingered cops watching my every move. I had to chuckle at my predicament and decided, in a more lucid moment, that if I wanted my thermos I had better not make any sudden moves in its acquisition. No one, not even a bomb disposal officer, has ever moved more deliberately and cautiously in the retrieval of an object as I did retrieving that thermos.

Did it occur to me to go without coffee? No. Did I think it worth getting air-conditioned by.357s, 9mms, and double 00 buck just to have my thermos? No. Then why, for Heaven’s sake? It was the “principle” of the thing. D--- it! I was innocent! And they had no right to deprive me of my coffee just because they thought I might be an escaped ax murderer or had assassinated the pope!

Oh, well, I got my thermos successfully no shots fired, but in full view of an eager constabulary made a display of very slowly and carefully putting my cup on the dash and very slowly and carefully pouring my coffee; but I did notice a few anticipatory, even hungry looks cast at me.

The conference seemed to be coming to an end, and one of the officers moseyed over. Returning my license and registration, he said that I had been stopped because a stolen vehicle matching mine had been reported seen in this general area.

What a let down! Couldn’t it have at least been someone who had held up a gas station? Were twelve cops so bored they had to congregate to catch a simple car thief? Or, maybe, they just weren’t telling me the straight scoop? In any event, I arrived late to my meeting where I was able to regale colleagues with my close call in becoming that headline and making “Film at Eleven!”

No, this is not a put down of cops; well, except the CHP. And don’t bother telling me about all the tickets I should have gotten but didn’t. It only takes abuse of authority by one bad CHP officer to sour you on the organization; and I have suffered this abuse three times! I know what it is by experience to stand in a courtroom and have a cop outright lie about his reason for giving you a ticket! One I confronted afterward on the courthouse steps was at least honest enough to tell me he had given me the ticket “Because I can.” And he went his way smiling.

Still, “A policeman’s lot is not a happy one.” And so much more today long after Gilbert and Sullivan’s “The Pirates of Penzance.” It was many years ago a friend with the LAPD confided to me being a cop was a “garbage job.” And these many years since his opinion could only have worsened. But it wouldn’t be fair to compare the problems Andy Taylor faced in Mayberry with what police face in Los Angeles or any of America’s large cities.

Having written on this topic many times over the years I have witnessed conditions worsen to the point where our police are emasculated by political correctness run amok, where the threats of lawsuits even by illegal aliens make the job of being a policeman one that no one would want, a job that friend of mine called a “garbage job.”

Aunt Maudie told Jem his father Atticus was one of those men that seemed to be called to take on the dirty jobs of society, jobs no one wants but some few good men and women step up and do them despite the wrath of those even in their own communities. Too often the job of the policeman falls into this category.

To repeat something I have said many times, the wonder to me is there are so many good cops. The job attracts those that want to carry a gun and thump heads with the authority of a badge; and weeding out the undesirables becomes an increasingly daunting task, one with which I am very familiar and you would find on my resume. While conversing with one psychologist that was part of the review team for police candidates he shared with me the difficulties finding people suitable for the job. At that, once a person has served as a cop for any length of time this fellow said to me, “You begin to think most people are nothing but scum because that is what you are dealing with every day. It distorts your view of all people and in time it become an Us vs. Them mentality, and results in cops only having other cops as friends, among other things.”

But to “Serve and Protect” has to be understood in the context of what the Chief of Police in one SoCal city once told me: “We are not here to help people, but to slam the door on them.” He made the statement while we were talking about police candidates who had the mindset the job was one more properly being that of a Boy Scout than what being a policeman was really all about.

Folks, among the many dangers America is facing is that of a police force we desperately need to “Serve and Protect.” But in too many cases litigation and the courts are emasculating our police from doing the job we desperately need them to do, and corruption throughout government is only acerbating an already dangerous situation in America.

The Border Patrol is threatened for doing the job it is supposed to do. Violent crime is accelerating in our cities but none dare point to the invasion from Mexico and the gang problems, increasing crime and violence resulting from this invasion. It is blatantly clear our Federal Triune Dictatorship will continue to refuse securing our borders for the sake of slave labor thereby inviting terrorist nuclear attack. In the face of all the reasons for not becoming a cop, who would want the job? These many years after my friend’s dour pronouncement it has become more of a “garbage job” than ever. But We the People are not stupid; we know we need “Dirty Harry” in the face of the dangers threatening America.