Ramblings of an old Detroit copper.

[Ray1936]

Stumbled upon a looseleaf book today that I had put together for a bunch of old thoughts and happenings during my 29 years with the Detroit PD. I kind of surprised myself, because I found myself chuckling over them, and the writing is not all that bad.

Using this thread, I'll post them here from time to time. Hope you enjoy them and get a laugh or two. Here's No. One!
-----------------

The first citation.
During the summer of 1962, I was finally assigned to a car after walking a beat for over two years. I worked as the third man on scout 2-1 with Bob Aben and Allen Blondale. If all three of us were working the same day, I'd walk a beat being the junior man, but that was usually only a couple days a month.

Low seniority? Boy, was it. Both Bob and Allen had over twenty years on the job, and there was I with just three. They were the oldest two on the shift, and our car was called "the two old geezers and the kid". But despite being long in the tooth, Bob and Allen were just super police officers, hard working up until their last day. Both have long met their reward in Heaven.

Scout 2-1 was located in the quietest, most deserted part of the precinct. It was from the Detroit River to Vernor, between 3rd and 14th streets. The area was mostly warehouses and vacant buildings. Drumming up a few vagrants was usually our biggest arrest. We'd go through the vacant buildings and round up whatever bums we could, call for the paddy wagon, and take them to court the next morning. They'd get a couple of days in DEHOCO, a shower, some good meals, and turned loose. One judge used to suggest they move to Chicago, but I doubt if they ever did.

On this particular August morning, Bob was driving past a Standard gas station at Lafayette and 14th when something caught my eye. I don't know, maybe a light or a motion of some kind. I told Bob to back up into the gas station. As he did we both spotted the shattered glass overhead door of the closed station. Called for backup, but no one got there until we had already entered the station and arrested the burglar.

For the life of me, I can't remember what the disposition was on the case. I think he made a plea bargain for attempted B&E later and we didn't even have to appear in court, but I'm not certain.

Whatever, it was my first citation, one that a police officer never forgets. And it was a good piece of work, too, especially at 4:30 in the morning for the old guy and the kid.

On the other hand, it was probably about Bob's 50th citation.

[slick]

Keep on rambling!

[ct_alum]

Keep on rambling!

+1

[Kathleen]

Hi Ray! Bring on the stories!!

[Maof]

Looking forward to the next episode.

[IrishSpartan]

Stumbled upon a looseleaf book today that I had put together for a bunch of old thoughts and happenings during my 29 years with the Detroit PD. I kind of surprised myself, because I found myself chuckling over them, and the writing is not all that bad.

Using this thread, I'll post them here from time to time. Hope you enjoy them and get a laugh or two. Here's No. One!
-----------------

The first citation.
During the summer of 1962, I was finally assigned to a car after walking a beat for over two years. I worked as the third man on scout 2-1 with Bob Aben and Allen Blondale. If all three of us were working the same day, I'd walk a beat being the junior man, but that was usually only a couple days a month.

Low seniority? Boy, was it. Both Bob and Allen had over twenty years on the job, and there was I with just three. They were the oldest two on the shift, and our car was called "the two old geezers and the kid". But despite being long in the tooth, Bob and Allen were just super police officers, hard working up until their last day. Both have long met their reward in Heaven.

Scout 2-1 was located in the quietest, most deserted part of the precinct. It was from the Detroit River to Vernor, between 3rd and 14th streets. The area was mostly warehouses and vacant buildings. Drumming up a few vagrants was usually our biggest arrest. We'd go through the vacant buildings and round up whatever bums we could, call for the paddy wagon, and take them to court the next morning. They'd get a couple of days in DEHOCO, a shower, some good meals, and turned loose. One judge used to suggest they move to Chicago, but I doubt if they ever did.

On this particular August morning, Bob was driving past a Standard gas station at Lafayette and 14th when something caught my eye. I don't know, maybe a light or a motion of some kind. I told Bob to back up into the gas station. As he did we both spotted the shattered glass overhead door of the closed station. Called for backup, but no one got there until we had already entered the station and arrested the burglar.

For the life of me, I can't remember what the disposition was on the case. I think he made a plea bargain for attempted B&E later and we didn't even have to appear in court, but I'm not certain.

Whatever, it was my first citation, one that a police officer never forgets. And it was a good piece of work, too, especially at 4:30 in the morning for the old guy and the kid.

On the other hand, it was probably about Bob's 50th citation.

Hi Ray,

Enjoyed the story as always. A couple of questions if I may. Back then, how many years of seniority in DPD as a uniform typically did it take before you were not likely assigned a beat to walk?

Usually, were the vagrants you were encountering or arresting on this beat those who probably couldn't or wouldn't spend money on a room at one of Michigan Avenue's no star hotels?

Do you remember anymore the name of the judge who made that comment about moving to Chicago? Somebody like Scallen, McKay, or Koscinski? Actually, my guess is the Hon. Frank Schmanske.

[One Shot]

I’m subscribed

[jiminnm]

Great story Ray. You should know that the value of copper has increased greatly, even old copper.

[Ray1936]

Hi Ray,

Do you remember anymore the name of the judge who made that comment about moving to Chicago? Somebody like Scallen, McKay, or Koscinski? Actually, my guess is the Hon. Frank Schmanske.

Oh, I remember the judge....Judge Henry Heading. Called himself "Pigmeat", tho why I know not. Back in the late fifties, early sixties, you could figure on walking a beat for your first two or three years. No portable radios back then, either; your only link to the rest of the world were the police call boxes.

[Ray1936]

Okay, next story from my scrapbook.

After graduation from the Police Academy, the class was assigned to various precincts. I drew the 2nd Precinct, old Vernor Station, at 20th and W. Vernor. Was there for six years, and it was a great place to work.

The precinct covered an area inside W. Grand Blvd. that included Olympia Stadium, Tiger [[then Briggs) Stadium, the Ambassador Bridge and a converted house on W. Grand Blvd. that was named Hittsville, USA. The headquarters for Barry Gordy and his Motown sound. When I walked that beat I frequently talked with the folks going into the place, little knowing I was talking to Diana Ross who would achieve superstardom. Had no idea at the time of the fame it was to gain.

Generally, it was necessary to walk a beat for about three years before assignment to a car. My favorite beats were Grand River [[14th to the Boulevard) during hockey season, and Michigan Avenue [[John Lodge to 14th) during the baseball season. And countless hours were spent at Western Market at Michigan between Humboldt and 18th; two acres of farm produce and various wholesalers. It is now the site of a mishmash of freeways just north of Michigan avenue. Nothing remains today.

Other 'good' beats were Bagley, where I picked up a bit of Spanish [[Bueno!) and beat 1, the MCRR station. There was a lot of action at the old station back then, and I'm delighted to see the renewal taking place today. Beats I hated were Myrtle, Buchanan, and W. Warren, mainly because there wasn't a decent restaurant to be found on that turf; on midnights, they were miserable.

One winter night I was walking a beat in the Western Market with a light snow falling. It was around 4:00 a.m. I suddenly realized that there were footprints in the snow in the alleys behind the buildings, going from door to door. Confident that I was tracking a potential burglar, I followed them for 15 minutes before I realized they were mine, from the last time around.

Midnight shift will do that to you.

[Maof]

One winter night I was walking a beat in the Western Market with a light snow falling. It was around 4:00 a.m. I suddenly realized that there were footprints in the snow in the alleys behind the buildings, going from door to door. Confident that I was tracking a potential burglar, I followed them for 15 minutes before I realized they were mine, from the last time around.

Midnight shift will do that to you.

LOL....was not expecting that.

On a serious note, I can't believe they had you guys walking the beat at those hours.

[Ray1936]

"On a serious note, I can't believe they had you guys walking the beat at those hours."

Yeah, they did. Fortunately, I never had a problem sleeping during daylight, while some of my colleagues had a bitch of a time. I was always pretty well awake while on the job.

[IrishSpartan]

Oh, I remember the judge....Judge Henry Heading. Called himself "Pigmeat", tho why I know not. Back in the late fifties, early sixties, you could figure on walking a beat for your first two or three years. No portable radios back then, either; your only link to the rest of the world were the police call boxes.

Interesting that it was Henry Heading. It seemed like he had some rather interesting quotes in the newspapers. Do you think the demolition of the old Michigan Avenue skid row in the early 60's had any spill over to the 2nd Precinct? I know for the most part many relocated to the Cass Corridor.

Since you walked the beats in the 2nd Precinct, do you feel that was the precinct you knew the best of all?

[shovelhead]

Keep 'em coming Ray. How about some Motor stories?

I remember some of the stories that Skip Gage told of his two wheel days.

[IrishSpartan]

Okay, next story from my scrapbook.

After graduation from the Police Academy, the class was assigned to various precincts. I drew the 2nd Precinct, old Vernor Station, at 20th and W. Vernor. Was there for six years, and it was a great place to work.

The precinct covered an area inside W. Grand Blvd. that included Olympia Stadium, Tiger [[then Briggs) Stadium, the Ambassador Bridge and a converted house on W. Grand Blvd. that was named Hittsville, USA. The headquarters for Barry Gordy and his Motown sound. When I walked that beat I frequently talked with the folks going into the place, little knowing I was talking to Diana Ross who would achieve superstardom. Had no idea at the time of the fame it was to gain.

Generally, it was necessary to walk a beat for about three years before assignment to a car. My favorite beats were Grand River [[14th to the Boulevard) during hockey season, and Michigan Avenue [[John Lodge to 14th) during the baseball season. And countless hours were spent at Western Market at Michigan between Humboldt and 18th; two acres of farm produce and various wholesalers. It is now the site of a mishmash of freeways just north of Michigan avenue. Nothing remains today.

Other 'good' beats were Bagley, where I picked up a bit of Spanish [[Bueno!) and beat 1, the MCRR station. There was a lot of action at the old station back then, and I'm delighted to see the renewal taking place today. Beats I hated were Myrtle, Buchanan, and W. Warren, mainly because there wasn't a decent restaurant to be found on that turf; on midnights, they were miserable.

One winter night I was walking a beat in the Western Market with a light snow falling. It was around 4:00 a.m. I suddenly realized that there were footprints in the snow in the alleys behind the buildings, going from door to door. Confident that I was tracking a potential burglar, I followed them for 15 minutes before I realized they were mine, from the last time around.

Midnight shift will do that to you.

Back then, did the businesses that were along Michigan Avenue, Grand River, W. Vernor [[especially restaurants) keep their lights on all night?

I know you mentioned before about having the Michigan Central Depot beat. Were you required to walk out on the platforms? Also, do you remember trains back then stopping at the post office at Fort & Trumbull?

[Ray1936]

Interesting that it was Henry Heading. It seemed like he had some rather interesting quotes in the newspapers. Do you think the demolition of the old Michigan Avenue skid row in the early 60's had any spill over to the 2nd Precinct? I know for the most part many relocated to the Cass Corridor.

Since you walked the beats in the 2nd Precinct, do you feel that was the precinct you knew the best of all?

Yeah, I came to know that part of town like the back of my hand. No GPS units in those days, so you'd best know all the streets and numbering sequences.

The skid row area of Michigan avenue was pretty well under way of being demolished when I started [[1959), so sorry to note that I have no particular memories of it, other than a few vagrants looking for new quarters to haunt.

[Ray1936]

Back then, did the businesses that were along Michigan Avenue, Grand River, W. Vernor [[especially restaurants) keep their lights on all night?

I know you mentioned before about having the Michigan Central Depot beat. Were you required to walk out on the platforms? Also, do you remember trains back then stopping at the post office at Fort & Trumbull?

I don't recall any 'night lighting' of businesses in the area, and it seemed like most of the restaurants were 24/7, so yeah, the lights stayed on in those establishments.

The MCRR depot detail was strictly in the common areas, looking for lost folks/runaways, etc. We also kind of served as a walking information booth. Yeah, back then, there were all kind of train tracks behind the Post Office. The foot of 12th Street [[Rosa Parks) was a great place to park and watch the freighters going up and down the Detroit River. Parked down there one night and went afoot to find a secluded spot to relieve the kidneys when I stubbed my toe on a 12 inch section of RR track. Picked it up and I have it here today on my work bench as a portable anvil.

[mikefmich]

Good reads, hope you continue Ray.

[Ray1936]

Good reads, hope you continue Ray.

Okay, you asked for it. Next page in my scrapbook!

I always looked forward to the annual firearms qualification course at the range in Rouge Park. The course changed slightly each year, so each year was a new challenge. I was always above average; sharpshooter with the .38 revolver. There were five categories you could end up with:

Expert
Sharpshooter
Marksman
Qualified
Did not qualify

While I made sharpshooter every year and try as I did, could never top that elite category of Expert. This was reserved for the top 3% of the department. But sharpshooter went to the next 10%, so it wasn't anything to sneeze at.

There was one year I thought I had cracked the Expert rating when I saw a whole bunch of holes in the black. When the range instructor tallied up my target, though, he came up with 380 points out of a possible 300. The guy next to me had been shooting at my target by mistake. So the whole thing was disqualified; I had to shoot over, and once again missed the Expert rating. Stuff happens.

Today's police officers use the 9 mm automatic weapon -- the Glock, I think they're currently using -- in Detroit. I really feel this is a mistake; automatics are not safe weapons in my view. Too easy for accidental discharges, and they do happen. Glad I always had the .38 special in my day.

For what it's worth, I never had to fire a shot on the street during my career. I'm glad for that. The only shots I fired on the street were into some badly mangled dogs that thought they could easily cross a freeway. Put them out of their misery and hauled them to the dog pound at the foot of 24th street for proper disposal.

I used to think back on my days at Mackenzie High School. I was about to take a Latin test, and I had to raise my hand because I didn't have a pencil. The old biddy teacher snorted and asked, "Well, does a policeman ever forget his gun?" Wish I could find that old *****. Yes, he does! I did it twice, showing up for roll call with an empty holster.

As I said, stuff happens.

[mikefmich]

Okay, you asked for it. Next page in my scrapbook!

For what it's worth, I never had to fire a shot on the street during my career. I'm glad for that. The only shots I fired on the street were into some badly mangled dogs that thought they could easily cross a freeway.

If I had a career as a cop, that would be a great to have done/not done when it was time to walk into the sunset. Good going!

[Ray1936]

Next chapter in the book: VICE SQUAD TEMPORARY ASSIGNMENT.

I came in for roll call one late December day [[1963), and the Sergeant called me aside, handing me a blue slip that I still have in the scrap book. To my surprise I was being temporarily assigned out to the Vice Bureau for two months. This was considered a training session.

Guess I did okay, because the C.O. gave me a good writeup at the completion of that two month stint. However......I didn't like it at all. Vice work deals with the lower portion of humanity. In addition, you have to turn yourself into quite an actor to "play the role" to get a liquor, gambling, or vice case. I'm a lousy actor. Regardless, I managed to fumble my way through.

One thing that irks me to this day are the hours and hours we spent looking for numbers runners. Folks back then [[as now) liked to play the number, then a three-digit daily number that would pay them 600-1 if they hit. The numbers then were based on a complicated system of the parimutual payoffs at the Detroit Race Course or Hazel Park. During the off season, the payoffs at Hialeah Race Course in Florida were used. The first digit was determined by the addition of all the payoff amounts in the first race; the second from the second race, and so on. The department worked hard to try to eliminate this unlawful gambling. Now, alas, the state runs the damn thing. It's called the State Lottery. I guess as long as the state gets a cut it's okay. Go figure. Oh......the state only pays 500 to 1 for a hit, not 600 to 1 as the old mutuals racketeers did. [bring back the mob!]

[Note to Lowell.....noticed I finally used brackets correctly!]

After my two-month stint, back to the Second Precinct. I spent some months in the precinct 'cleanup squad', the localized area of the Vice Bureau. We worked mainly on licensed liquor establishments for violations -- sale to minors, after hours sales, etc.

Back in the fifties and early sixties, there were still illegal moonshine stills in operation in the City. Raiding a still and knocking it over was a good piece of work. I'm sure there hasn't been a still in Detroit since, oh, 1975 at best. They'd ferment corn mash to make cheap booze, and it tasted more like Prestone anti-freeze than anything else. But it was cheap and it sold. I used to bring home a gallon jug occasionally [after a raid] to clean my paint brushes.

[Jimaz]

... I'm sure there hasn't been a still in Detroit since, oh, 1975 at best....

Somewhere I heard it's coming back into fashion on a small scale. No doubt due to series like Moonshiners.

[jcole]

The TRUE small batch distilleries

Somewhere I heard it's coming back into fashion on a small scale. No doubt due to series like Moonshiners.

[IrishSpartan]

Next chapter in the book: VICE SQUAD TEMPORARY ASSIGNMENT.

I came in for roll call one late December day [[1963), and the Sergeant called me aside, handing me a blue slip that I still have in the scrap book. To my surprise I was being temporarily assigned out to the Vice Bureau for two months. This was considered a training session.

Guess I did okay, because the C.O. gave me a good writeup at the completion of that two month stint. However......I didn't like it at all. Vice work deals with the lower portion of humanity. In addition, you have to turn yourself into quite an actor to "play the role" to get a liquor, gambling, or vice case. I'm a lousy actor. Regardless, I managed to fumble my way through.

One thing that irks me to this day are the hours and hours we spent looking for numbers runners. Folks back then [[as now) liked to play the number, then a three-digit daily number that would pay them 600-1 if they hit. The numbers then were based on a complicated system of the parimutual payoffs at the Detroit Race Course or Hazel Park. During the off season, the payoffs at Hialeah Race Course in Florida were used. The first digit was determined by the addition of all the payoff amounts in the first race; the second from the second race, and so on. The department worked hard to try to eliminate this unlawful gambling. Now, alas, the state runs the damn thing. It's called the State Lottery. I guess as long as the state gets a cut it's okay. Go figure. Oh......the state only pays 500 to 1 for a hit, not 600 to 1 as the old mutuals racketeers did. [bring back the mob!]

[Note to Lowell.....noticed I finally used brackets correctly!]

After my two-month stint, back to the Second Precinct. I spent some months in the precinct 'cleanup squad', the localized area of the Vice Bureau. We worked mainly on licensed liquor establishments for violations -- sale to minors, after hours sales, etc.

Back in the fifties and early sixties, there were still illegal moonshine stills in operation in the City. Raiding a still and knocking it over was a good piece of work. I'm sure there hasn't been a still in Detroit since, oh, 1975 at best. They'd ferment corn mash to make cheap booze, and it tasted more like Prestone anti-freeze than anything else. But it was cheap and it sold. I used to bring home a gallon jug occasionally [after a raid] to clean my paint brushes.

During your temporary assignment to the Vice Bureau, I take it you were based downtown at the first precinct? What was the parking situation like there back then? I've heard at times it was problem to the point of becoming a joke. Did you spend time at the old Recorder's Court testifying in cases? Had that building become a dump by this time? I believe it was demolished in 1973.

[Lowell]

I always looked forward to the annual firearms qualification course at the range in Rouge Park. The course changed slightly each year, so each year was a new challenge...

This episode makes me wonder if you ever knew a cop named Casimir Saltkowski <-spelling could vary. Cas told me he was a DPD shooting instructor, his particular skill being with the 357 magnum of which he also offered lessons on the side. He brings to mind a story about cop sidework too.

Back during my life as a Sears delivery driver in the 1970's we would get a lot of cops as helpers on days when booming sales called for extra trucks and help. It was a good job paying Teamster wages, almost always with overtime, and the cop could earn at least a hundred dollars a day and often much more--great money back then. As a result I heard a lot of interesting cop stories like yours but, of all of them, this one has stuck with me the most.

Cas got a call about two missing little brothers. Searching alleys and backlots he came across an abandoned refrigerator. Opening it he found the boys, suffocated and hugging each other.

I could see the story haunted him and, big, tough cop that he was, I could see he was a little dewy-eyed as he told it. And why wouldn't he? The story still haunts me.