A Long-Standing Police Tradition

By Mike Simmons

“If you’ve seen one police department, you’ve seen ‘em all,” said no one ever. The truth is, “if you’ve seen one police department, you’ve seen…one police department.” Every department is different, fashioned to best meet the needs of its own community, and every community is different. For instance, the cars they buy, the uniforms they don, the way they are organized – all are unique. But there are a few things that are constant, and meeting together is one of them.

Wait, I take that back. There are probably some departments that operate with officers not meeting, but the vast majority of them hold meetings at the beginning of the shift. This is a long-standing tradition, and includes patrol officers, detectives, and other sections.

What do they call these meetings? Most agencies don’t call them “meetings.” Think about it. Where is the fun in that? Here are the names of some of the more common ones: Roll Call, Muster, Lineup, etc. It sounds much better, don’t you think? A the Pensacola Police Department, we refer to them as “Lineup.”

What do they do at these meetings? Well, officially, they talk business, discuss criminal activity, read out BOLOs (Be On the LookOut), and make assignments. But they go far beyond that. They socialize, talk about each other’s families, birthdays, and graduations, they laugh at things that happened the day before, and they pick at each other. I guess that is called “bonding.”

Sgt. Henry Cassady was afraid of snakes. No…Henry Cassady was TERRIFIED of snakes. Not knowing this, I had picked up a snake on a call. I watered it, fed it and kept it overnight, thinking I could release it into a wooded area the next day. The next day, a thought struck me. I can put the snake into a paper bag and place it on the sergeant’s table. No one can resist looking into a paper bag, right?

I came in early for lineup, sat the loaded bag on the sergeant’s table, and took my seat. When Sgt. Cassady walked in and sat down, the entire cadre of officers in the room was waiting with anticipation for him to look in the bag. But he didn’t. He looked at the bag, then looked across the room. Police officers are good at reading people, so I guess he saw the faces and realized something was up.

“What’s in the bag?” he demanded. No one answered. “WHAT IS IN THE BAG?” Finally, I said, “Well, look in it and see.”

How he figured what was in the bag, I will never know. Maybe he remembered the call from the day before, maybe he read the faces, but he suddenly jumped up, muttered some words that I won’t repeat here, and went for his sidearm! By the time he got his gun out, the mood of the room instantly went from one of light-hearted laughter to “every man (or woman) for himself! The entire room – officers, cadets, other sergeants, and even the lieutenant – took cover! We dove under our tables, mistakenly thinking that would help. I remember the mental picture I had of me explaining why there was a hole in the sergeant’s table and another one in the carpet.

From under the table came my feeble cry, “Okay, Sarge, I’ll get it. Just don’t shoot!” Like an armed bandit coming out of a house in surrender, I raised my hands in the air and slowly walked to the bag. I got the bag (and the snake) and took it back to my seat. As everyone started to breathe again, Sgt. Cassady wouldn’t sit down. He stood with his gun pointed at the bag, which was now in my hand.

“Get it out of here!” he demanded. “Out of the building!” Slowly, I walked out and freed the poor creature in a wooded patch behind the station. As I started back inside, I realized that I might have gone too far with that one. Yep, it was immature. But it was also funny.

At the time, we had only been in our new police station for a couple of years. It hadn’t been initiated yet like the old one, which had bullet holes in the ceiling of the lineup room (don’t ask.) Signs and chalkboard drawings of funny calls from the day before are common. The old station also bears the marks of the many cherry bombs (extra large firecrackers) that have been rolled across the floor, “just to liven the place up a bit.”

The other side of those lineups are the chewing out by the supervisors about what happened – or what should have happened but didn’t – the day before, the fistfights, and the medical emergencies. In a meeting with the detectives, one fell dead one time of a heart attack.

All police and corrections agencies have stories that have occurred in their meetings. Maybe they are too afraid – or too smart – to tell them. Whatever the case, the morning meetings are a time of camaraderie. They make for good memories.

Mike