An era has passed

By Mike Simmons

A hero of mine died today. Pat Patterson was a gentle giant, not only in his size – he had been voted “Mr. Hawaiian Islands” – But also in his…way. He was quiet, but in a massive way.

Pat was one of the first Pensacola Police Officers of my memory. When my father took me down to the police department to see where he worked, I met the guy. His broad shoulders and massive arms stood in contrast to his slim waist – a man you didn’t want to cross. Surprisingly, though, that was not his most impressive feature. He was…likable. He seemed approachable. Immediately, I wanted to be like him.

Several years later, as a young man, I joined the Pensacola Police Department and, there he was. Sgt. Patterson was still there, still in great shape. It was comforting to see him. Not only that, but I had the privilege to work with him several times.

Earlier this year – on February 13 – I made a post about Pat. In it I recalled a couple of times seeing him in action. I will repeat them here.

When I first met him in 1986, he reminded me of Clint Eastwood – big, quiet, with a gaze that could intimidate you if he wanted. But he was very agreeable. He was tall and muscular, and it seemed like nothing bothered him. Martin Patterson, known as “Pat,” was a veteran sergeant with the Pensacola Police Department. His massive, muscular size, made sense when I was told that he had been voted “Mr. Hawaiian Islands.” A man of few words, he was easy to work with. 

I remember one time when, as a rookie, I was called to a man with a gun. Sgt. Patterson volunteered to back me up. When we arrived, the man was yelling, and making threats, but wouldn’t come outside. 

In my mind – with my weeks of experience – I figured the guy would begin shooting at any moment. Of course, I looked to Sgt. Patterson, who was standing in front of the house in full view of the man inside. I thought to myself, either that man is crazy, or he is one of the bravest guys I know. Without saying a word, Sgt. Patterson slowly walked up the porch steps to the front door, with me behind him, kinda trying to hide. Then he walked in and took the gun away! I was proud of the way I, and the sergeant, handled the call.

On another occasion, Sgt. Patterson and I were working in the Desk Sergeant’s Office (DSO) when an angry complainant came in yelling at him. As he was yelling, Sgt. Patterson just listened as he was writing notes. Every time he tried to say something, the man cut him off. I thought to myself, “He is going to get angry in a moment…this is gonna be good!” But he just quietly tried to respond. Didn’t work. Finally…finally! Sgt. Patterson had had enough! With that intimidating look in his eyes, he looked up from his paper, slammed his pen down, and stood up. “Here it comes!” I said to myself. “He has had it. I get to watch him throttle this guy!” The big sergeant looked the man in the eye and quietly said, “That’s enough.” He then sat down, grabbed his pen, and began to write again.

That was it?

Well, the guy shut up, so I guess that was all that was needed.

When Pat retired, he moved to Louisiana, and I lost touch with him. A few years ago, I met Pat’s daughter, Laura Patterson Zak, in Orlando. She purchased my book about the history of the Pensacola Police Department. She, like her dad, was in great shape. She explained that, when growing up in Pat’s house, working out and staying in shape was a way of life. She said he still worked out every day.

Last Saturday, I received a text from Laura that Pat was given 1-2 weeks by the Hospice nurse. I realized then that an era was about to pass. She texted me back two days ago and told me they gave him 48 hours. This morning, I got a text from her informing me that Pat died at 4:24 this morning (September 10). One the old guard has passed.

I will miss him.

Pat passed away like he lived – peacefully. He was quiet, kinda like you didn’t even know he was there. But you did. His presence was known as soon as he walked into a room. He was like that.