Page 434 - NIXBOOK

Speaking of kids being little rascals. One time I was working off-duty (but uniformed) security at a high school graduation on
the football field one Sunday and there was a minor little incident. There were actually three officers working that event on a
bright warm day in June; one officer was walking the parking lots which were packed to overflowing, another officer was in the
stands with the thousands of family and spectators, and I stationed myself up in the announcers booth in the stands, which gave
me a commanding presence over everything. I parked my DARE van just outside the inner fence on the ball field, on the outside
of the running track. I wanted to keep a close eye on it just in case some happy graduating seniors were tempted to mess with
it. Everything was going smoothly; the bleachers filled up with several thousand folks, there were hundreds of extra cars parked
out on the streets everywhere, and the graduating 12th graders filed out of the gym and lined up on the track to take their places
on the football field, which was covered with several hundred chairs arranged around a stage set up in the middle. I didn’t think
much of the fact that for a brief period of time my line of sight to my police van was obscured by a solid mass of high school
seniors in their purple and gold graduating gowns. As the band played and they marched onto the field to their seats, I noticed
my van was riding a little lower than normal. My eyes got wide as I saw that all the tires had been deflated. The good news is
that they weren’t punctured; just deflated. At least one very brave kid had decided to take advantage of an opportunity and
quickly take the valve caps off the tires and push in the valve stems to let out the air. I never did find out who the culprit was,
but there must have been at least a hundred witnesses; all of the kids lined up to go onto the field were right there, less than 30
feet from my van. Probably more like 300 direct witnesses. None of them ever divulged (to me) who did it. Even then, it was
30% aggravating and 70% funny, in my opinion.

As the SRO I was able to recognize a lot of the cars the kids drove and whenever a citizen would call to complain about speeding
cars driven by teenagers I was usually able to quickly identify them and either talk to them directly or make an effective call to
their parents.

As the SRO I had a few parents consult with me, asking for advice about their kids. But sadly, those were few and far between.

I enjoyed being the school resource officer, especially at my old high school where a few of my old teachers were still working.
I remember wishing that if I had known back in my high school days that I was going to be back at the school working as a
police officer, I would have not been able to resist putting my initials and date in various hidden places on walls or posts here
and there.
It was there that I first met teachers explaining to me that the behavioral problems some kids had were real things, like
“Intermittent Explosive Disorder” and “Oppositional Defiance Disorder”, both of which actually caused me to laugh when I first
heard them explained.
As the SRO I got priority for working off-duty security jobs like football games and school dances. I actually had to fight for that
one a bit; the sergeant in charge wanted to open it up to any and all of the patrol officers but I was able to easily point out the
logic of having the school resource officer work those events: “I know who all the bad kids are and I know who to look out for,”
which he had to agree made logical sense. I think I worked at literally several dozen high school football games over the years.

The dances were pretty easy to work; occasionally a kid or two would show up drunk, or they’d have alcohol stashed in their
cars in plain view. One dance a kid showed up - actually a 20 year old who had graduated a couple years earlier – wearing a nice
shirt and tie. “What are you doing back here?” I asked him. “Oh, I’m here as an adult chaperone.” Nice try, young man. Seriously,
good for you to try at least. But go get lost now, buh bye.
This was back in the days when kids danced still relatively conservatively; without
obscenely bumping and grinding on each other. When that started to happen a few
years later one of the school principals pretty much shut down the after school dances
and limited them to just a prom and tolo each year. I can’t say I blamed him, either.
The last dance I chaperoned as a parent just a couple years ago I noted the most
popular look for the young ladies was slim and short slinky cocktail dresses; a far cry
from the poofy and conservative taffeta dresses popular back in my high school years.

At the bigger dances, the photographers always took photos of the parent chaperones
and didn’t mind including me and whichever other officers I was working with that
night, we usually looked like this: