The Night Shift: Riding with Maumelle's Finest

Maumelle, Ar. -- Saturday night around 7 p.m. at Maumelle's police station, there is a shift change happening. Officers discuss everything from the Ann Presley trial to the Lottery as some prepare to go home, and others get ready for patrol. I sit anxiously on a bench as the officer assigned to take me along, Clifton McClintock, checks the batteries in the radar gun and his body microphone. There is a strong, undeniable, sense of companionship lingering beneath the officers' conversations.Tonight's shift consists of three units, senior officer Debra Bagley, rookie officer Brian Felix and McClintock. Officer Bagley, having 15 years of experience (all on Maumelle's force), will call the shots tonight.

Officer McClintock, or "click" as officers Felix and Bagley frequently refer to him, has two and a half years of experience as a police officer with the Maumelle Police Department. Having covered a fellow officer's two shifts earlier in the week, McClintock has exceeded his hours for the week, and is getting paid time-and-a-half for his shift tonight.

After a brief review of all the components in the front cab of the police cruiser, including a tutorial of how to work the radio, "just in case anything happens," we set out on a 12-hour shift having been assigned to "roam" the northern section of Maumelle's jurisdiction.

7:05 p.m.- our first stop, ... Zaxby's for some breakfast. Officer McClintock has been up since 5:30 p.m. and he ready to eat. He explains that Zaxby's is not a normal stop for food by the officers, citing the cost, but tonight he has the Chicken Finger Plate with extra fries. I have the 5-piece chicken fingers and water. As we eat I learn that officer McClintock has a wife and a four-year-old boy at home, which coincidently is on the northern side of Maumelle, making a safe return from this shift even more of a priority. I ask him what it is like to put his life on the line everyday at work and he sharply replies that officers do not think of it like that, "we look at it like any other job, we go to work and do what we have to do, and go home," he says. I learn that officer McClintock has served five years in the United States Army's Infantry Division, which works to sedate my concerns about riding with an officer that has less than three years of experience on the force.

In the first hour of the shift, we ride mostly through the northern section of Maumelle's jurisdiction, near the Morgan/ Maumelle exit, circling behind the Shell station and Waffle House before making our way back out to Highway 100, or Maumelle Blv. as it is most commonly referred to. We trail a few people that officer McClintock suspect could be driving under the influence, but they straighten up when we slip in behind them and we continue to prowl without a destination. He explains the tags on the Arkansas plates, and what the colors represent, as we slide slowly through the northern side of Maumelle.

The night is slow so far and both officers Bagley, "Baker 13" in police radio language, and officer Felix, "Baker 12," chime in periodically through the radio with several codes for dispatch. The radio breaks an anticipatory silence that resides in our car; the anticipation is all mine, as officer McClintock looks relaxed and confident. The codes, "Baker 13, I need a 29," I would later learn is a request for dispatch to run a license plate.

8:38 p.m.- we find ourselves patrolling behind Shell station again about an hour and a half into the shift when officer McClintock is alarmed as dispatch reveals to officer Bagley the previous citations of two people she has pulled over in front of the police station. Both have felony charges and felony drug charges, and the male has fleeing and resisting charges. McClintock is already speeding southbound on Maumelle Blv. to provide assistance when officer Bagley, Baker 13, asks our location to see if we are available for backup. "We're on our way, be there in a second," McClintock responds. We reach a top speed of 90 mph on the way and reach officer Bagley's circling blue lights within a minute of knowing the situation. Both comply as the officers talk to them before letting them go. McClintock explains they could have issued a citation for "an open container" of beer, but given their previous charges, that would be petty.

We head back north bound as officer McClintock explains to me that the law is flexible and left to the interpretation of the officer. "If I could go all week without arresting someone, that's normally a good thing," McClintock said. He explains that officers in Maumelle do not have to meet a quota, and can give as many or as few tickets as they choose.

9:36 p.m.- Officer Felix reports that he has just witnessed a drug deal and that he is staying with one of the cars involved, while we are to "make contact" with the other, a purple Nissan truck carrying three occupants. My racing heart matches the rpms as we speed to a spot where officer McClintock says we can intercept them as they are heading southbound on Maumelle blv. We pull onto a side street, turn around and nose out to the boulevard to wait. A few cars pass, before officer McClintock says, "There they are right there in the far right lane," identifying them having seen just the headlights. Sure enough a purple Nissan passes us and we speed in behind them. I expect the lights to go on and "contact" to be made, but nothing happens. We just follow. They turn into the Gables, an apartment complex known for harboring drugs and drug users, and we slide by into the darkness of the side street. Without me asking, officer McClintock explains that officers must have a reason to pull someone over, and the purple Nissan drove well enough to make it back home without allowing us to make contact. "Well what about the drug deal," I asked impatiently. "We'll just have to keep an eye out for them, and get them another time," McClintock says.

Maumelle's police fleet consists of about 14 cruisers, according to officer McClintock, who drives the oldest cruiser. His has over 114,000 miles on it. He explains the difference between a police car and the same civilian model, saying that cruisers have better suspension and more power. I ask officer McClintock what he likes most about being a police officer. "Getting to meet so many new people, and hearing their stories," he responds. "Everyone has a story." Then he went on to say, of course, "We get to drive fast and shoot guns." I was surprised at his answer, but it became obviously that he was one of the most well respected officers in Maumelle as the night went on.

10:30- Dispatch relays a 911 call regarding black males in a parking lot of an apartment complex, which we happen to be only two streets away from. We respond and officer McClintock spots a male and female at the entrance walking out of the complex. He cuts them off, and all in one motion; throws the car in park, leaps out and "makes contact." As it turns out he knows them, and after running their name and dates of birth to check for warrants, he lets them go and we return to "roaming."

Officer McClintock tells me he makes approximately $32,000 a year, during a now more lengthy time in between calls, a salary he discusses openly because it is public record. He tells me that units may travel between 100 and 150 miles on a single shift. The busier the night, the fewer the miles, and the slower the night, the more "roaming," which means more miles. After an arrest, McClintock says paperwork can take an hour or longer. And dealing with an arrestee's car and transporting them to the jail can take even longer, making more arrests equal less miles.

We make several stops for various traffic violations on the night. The violations mainly consist of a taillight or headlight being out, which officer McClintock writes warnings for.

Long periods of just driving, or sitting and being positioned in certain areas, take up most of the shift, but knowing that the radio could call for a response at any moment is enough to keep me alert. Hours pass as officers Felix and Bagley break the silence occasionally to request a "29," and I wonder where they are and how they are doing. A sense of solitude and possibly even a faint bit of loneliness creeps into our car as the later hours moved upon us. Officer McClintock explains to me that between 11 p.m. and 1 p.m. the action usually dies down for the night, but with a shift that last until 7 a.m., I knew we weren't done yet.

2:15 a.m.- the radio smashes through the front cab of the cruiser, "We've got a 911 call here, just one second," dispatch says. "Hold for the location and nature of the call." My heart races once again as we prepare to speed, as protector of the people, bound to a life of self sacrifice, in response to whatever the situation may require with the selfless reasonability of providing a community with a peace of mind in knowing that safety, for them, has arrived soon after those blue lights paint the night with their arrival. "A woman says that someone is trying to break into her house. She can hear them," Dispatch says. We speed off into the night, and the action is on once again. Officer Bagley reaches the apartment complex first, as we are just behind her and the officer Felix. All three officers quickly disperse into the area around the apartment complex, guns drawn and flashlights beaming. Once the search is done and no one turns up, the officers meet with the resident and conclude that it may have been her drunken ex-husband. "We'll keep an eye out for his car," officer McClintock tells me as we pull out back on to the boulevard, headed northbound of course.

2:26 a.m.- Officers Bagley and Felix agree to join us for dinner at Waffle House and we enjoy a booth, some coffee and their regular waitress, Carmen, who displays an eccentric personality during our meal. The three give each other flack, talk about the calls that night and share stories as the same obvious connection that was present at the station remains as strong seven hours later at dinner. I learn that officer Felix is a deer hunter and the only officer working tonight with no kids asleep at home, and that officer Bagley was required, "6 or 7 years ago," to carry firefighter and EMT equipment with her on patrols because the Maumelle emergency response teams were so short handed. Officer McClintock has two biscuits with gravy and a side of sausage, and Carmen seems to be very fond of him as observed by her flirtatious mannerisms and noted by officer Felix who gives "click" flack about it.

4:45 a.m.- we have reached 140 miles on a night that officer McClintock called slow, yet it seemed as if it were moving a light speed to me. As we slid through the neighborhood streets, officer McClintock told me about the old calls he responded to during his tenure at the department; the drug bust, the suicide, the armed-robbery and so on. Officer McClintock likes to think of himself as a friendly officer, saying it helps him talk and handle the people he deals with much more easily.

5:15 a.m.- Officer McClintock radios officer Felix to meet us at a cul de sac that serves as a common rendezvous for them. We talk the rest of the shift away, mainly about the justice system, problems it faces, and the Maumelle department in particular. The radio is silent. The sun is not yet up but the night is much more visible now. I feel delirious, tired and miles from assertive- but my brain still seems to conjure up a question in my head. "How do these guys do it?"

How do they do this; while walking the thin line of enforcing the law and respecting the rights of the citizens? How do they do this; when firefighters get all the glory, and the police get all the criticism and angst? How do they do this; while making such a meager salary, and bolstering such important responsibility?

The answer is simple: it's just a job.