The Longest Walk

By Mike Simmons

Every town and city had them. You could see them every time you went downtown. And everyone knew them. They were there before SWAT teams, PR-24s, tazers, exterior vests, interior vests, or bodycams. In years past they were fixtures. 

What? The walking beat cop.  

He didn’t ride around in a police car, or run from call to call, or spend his day writing reports. And usually, he didn’t wear stripes on his sleeves or bars or stars on his shoulders. But…he was arguably the most influential person in the lives of more people than any other single person…except teachers. He was liked, but you didn’t cross him. He was friendly, until he wasn’t. He was understanding, but not tolerant of evildoing. Most of all, he was respected. As he was walking down the sidewalk, from every direction, every doorway, and most cars, you could see someone wave and say, “Hi, Officer ____________! 

Pensacola had those. Of course, from 1821 until the first Model T was purchased in 1914, most Pensacola Policemen walked a beat. Supervisors rode horses, and the marshal had a buggy, but everyone else walked – and stayed in constant contact with the citizens.  

After police cars became popular, the administration discovered that more area could be covered by a single officer in a police car than on foot. Good…and not good. Immediately, officers lost that personal, one-on-one touch. Then came air conditioning in the police cruisers. Even worse, because what little contact there had been went away. The car windows went up and all contact was lost.  

At some point, it became the responsibility of the police officers to respond to calls for trouble…only. To clarify, let me describe a conversation between me (his sergeant) and an officer: 

Me: “Officer __________, I want you to put effort into getting out of your car today.” 

Officer: “Yes, Sir. Uh, why?” 

Me: “I want you to make contact with people.” 

Officer: “But, Sarge, why do I want to do that?” 

Me: “So you can get to know them better.” 

Officer: “Why? What is the problem?” 

Me: “No problem. I just want you to meet people and talk to them.” 

Officer: “Why do I want to do that?” 

Me: “Get to know them. See how you can help them.” 

Officer: “But why do I want to stop and get out of my car if there is no problem?” 

Me: “Because it’s your job.” 

Officer: (with a confused look on his face) “Huh?”  

Me: “Never mind.” 

Almost all cities and towns have long abandoned the practice of having an officer walk a beat. With community policing efforts, many departments assign officers to spend time around the downtown areas to 1) get to know the people better, and 2) to deter crime. It works well. But it is not viewed by most officers as “real police work.” Actually, walking a beat was real police work before any other kind arrived.  

In Pensacola, Florida, the walking beats were abandoned almost completely in 1970. Almost. The downtown beat remained a walking beat. And those well-worn shoes were filled by Freddie DeFranco.  

Freddie DeFranco was born on April 12, 1926, as Fernando Illarramendy in Bogota, Colombia. Three days after his 9^th birthday, he landed in Pensacola, the town where he would eventually become one of the most well-known people in.  

In 1954, Freddie became a proud Pensacola Police Officer. But he was already a Pensacola favorite. He first made the news when the September 18, 1940, edition of the Pensacola News Journal reported 14-year-old Freddie boxing against Joe Dalgo of Biloxi, MS in the Gulf Coast Amateur Boxing bouts at Pensacola Beach. Freddie became a hometown favorite boxer before long. He went on to be Golden Gloves champion.  

As soon as he was old enough, because it was wartime, Freddie soon found himself in the United States Navy. That didn’t keep Freddie from his first love. As soon as his colleagues found out his boxing talent, Freddie was put in the ring again and again. He proved successful, becoming somewhat of a legend in his circles. He did two tours overseas. Then he got out, receiving an honorable discharge. In 1954, he pinned on the Pensacola Police badge. 

Three years into his new career, Freddie met her – Anne Joetta Deuche. The two were married on November 21, 1957. That was the beginning of a large family – three sons and four daughters. Eventually, there would be in-laws and eight grandchildren.   

In 1960, he was assigned to walk the downtown beat, an assignment that doesn’t seem esteemed, but was very valuable, and it was the beginning of him being a local celebrity officer.  

For the next eighteen years, Freddie walked the downtown beat. The word “beat” relating to a police assignment comes from “beaten path,” and his was certainly well-beaten. From Garden Street to Ferdinand Plaza, Freddie walked up and down Palafox Street. A lot of people would look at that assignment as drudgery. The best part is counting your steps each day or counting the cracks in the sidewalk. But not Freddie. It wasn’t long before he knew every business owner and most of the customers on the Palafox Strip. And there were a lot of them. In the 1950s and 60s, downtown Pensacola was the bustling center for shopping, dining and businesses. Hundreds of people walked the sidewalks daily, and many of them came to know Freddie, the policeman.  

Freddie had a friendly, outgoing attitude, and he was easy to talk to. He was also a man who believed in fairness. His son Joe remembered what Freddie said to him every day before school, “Do the right thing.” 

But remember, Freddie was not only an outgoing good guy, but he was also a Golden Gloves champion. As much as people liked him, they feared him. Freddie was THE law in downtown Pensacola. If someone was caught breaking a minor law, Freddie decided what the discipline would be…and, he was the probation officer. If it was a felonious deed, Freddie didn’t back down. And, God help the person who chose to oppose him. Freddie didn’t lose…ever. 

Cordova Mall, the first mall in the Pensacola area, opened in 1971. By 1978, the business and ‘busyness’ of downtown had decreased in favor of the new suburban shopping center. 

Freddie, who had been “the downtown guy” for eighteen years, finally turned his badge in. The year was 1978. For the next eighteen years, Freddie dedicated his time and energy to working with young men, encouraging them to enter the discipline of boxing. When he died in 1996, an era came to an end.  

The Pensacola Police have always had one…the senior officer, like Freddie. He was the link between the Department and the line officers. He is the one that the chief calls when something unusual or quirky comes up. “Handle it,” the chief tells him, giving him no more direction. But the old veteran knows what that means – use your common sense and your experience. Use your wisdom to make this problem go away. Beginning in the 1920s, it was Bobo Connors, followed by his son, the second Bobo Connors. Then came Freddie. After him was TC Miller, who didn’t walk a beat, but drove a little three-wheeler. Then came Pat Adamson, and Clay Pyle. Pierce Baker is the current senior officer. His vehicle, by the way, is a pickup truck. Times have changed.  

Well done, Officer DeFranco. The younger guys have the watch…from an automobile.