The Michigan Daily-Thursday, September 10, 1981-Page 7-C

By STEVE HOOK
On a warm Friday night last June,
one of the first really steamy nights
of: the summer, I accompanied an
Ann Arbor Police Department
craiser on a 10-hour shift. What
follows is an account of that ex-
prience.
- 4:30 p.m. I was greeted by the duty
command officer and led to his office.
*Witing there was the cop I would ride'
w4th, Officer Jim Heinold-a young
mqin (age 30) with brown hair and a
broad, cheerful smile. He seemed sin-
erely eager to take an observer along
for the ride. Before we left, however, I
was asked to sign a waiver, relieving
the AAPD of liability in case I should
be, say, maimed in a high speed chase.
we'd go out as part of the University
atrol. Heinold is one of four AAPD of-
s that covers the University on a
daily basis, a' service for which the
University pays a "handsome sum,"
flinold said. At 9:30 we would pick up
Ikinbld's partner, Officer Richard
Blake, outside of Thano's after he
finished walking his beat.
5:15 p.m. O~idly enough, the most
breathtaking moment of this night shift
was during the first hour. Heading
toward the Arborland shopping center,
Heinold responded to a "10-15," or "Of-
ficer in Trouble." After quietly infor-
fning headquarters that he was within
range of Briarwood Mall, where a
shoplifter was resisting arrest at Sears,

an

ever-changin



6:15 p.m. Time to roll again-a
citizen had apparently been struck on
his bicycle over on Huron Parkway
near Platt Road. When we arrived,
there were three males of varying ages,
three ten-speeds heaped on each other,
and a flustered-looking woman. Her car
had struck one of the men, evidently the
father of the other two (much younger
persons) coming out of work down the
driveway. The victim appeared
unharmed, just a few scratches alone
one arm.
"A large part of police work is spent
doing paperwork, service functions,"
Heinold explained as he headed north
on Huron Parkway, "A small percen-
tage of the 'time is actually spent
'fighting crime'.
'The word about TV cop shows is that
they're all fantasy,", he continued, "I
have never fired my gun at a suspect in
eight years on the force. Most police of-
ficers never do fire their guns."
7:00 p.m. I noted to Officer Heinold
that we seemed to be receiving a few
caustic stares from fellow drivers and
pedestrians. Reflecting on my own ap-
prehensions about confronting police
cruisers in heavy traffic, I understood
the intimidated expressions on those
faces.
"You want to see some dirty looks. I'll
show you dirty looks," Heinold
chuckled as we headed into Gallup
Park. As we slowly traversed the win-
ding driveway, we were indeed glared
at by several small groups of people,
strikingly similar to those on the

Cruising: A night
shift with the AAPD

ig cm
nounced. They obediently disbursed to
their respective cars and left the park.
12:30 a.m. Not having received a call
from headquarters in some time,
Heinold and Blake decided to patrol the
North Campus parking lots for awhile.
Again, there were two instant sitting
ducks. In the School of Music lot were
two youths, apparently busy rolling
joints, when the officers arrived. They
looked up from the car they were sitting
in and grimaced helplessly.
After writing up their five dollar
possession-of-marijuana tickets,
Heinold and Blake decided to check out
the covert party locations east of cam-
pus. We drove through many miles of
wooded roads, occasionally stopping at
tree-cleared lots or open fields, where

the parties tend to transpire. But at this
time, on this Friday night, there was no
one present on this route.
"This time of night, you've got to dig
up anything you're going to do," Blake
said.
1:30 a.m. We returned to the station
to drop off the "evidence" from the
marijuana arrest. While Heinold
delivered it to the proper compartment
in the evidence room, Blake and I spoke
with the duty command officer, Donald
Carnahan.
Although he described this night as
"quite slow" for a Friday, he expressed
skepticism that the tranquility would
continue for long. "You get two or three
slow nights, and then the roof falls in.
You never know," he said.

him a quick search for weapons, he had
informed the man about local laws
regarding transients, and about
provisions that are available for them
by local agencies.
, As we left the neighborhood, Heinold
pointed to a man sitting in a'motionless
car outside an apartment building. He
was an undercover cop, on duty. "For
every arrest you make undercover,"
Heinold said, "you may spend two
weeks sitting on your ass. Talk about
drinking coffee."
8 p.m. Another "service call." They'a
play a lot of city league softball at a
place called Buhr Park, just off
Packard Road. A resident whose
backyard is located just beyond the
right field fence, having returned from
a long day at work, was not pleased to

As he winged onto State Street, ,assing dozens
of hastily-sidelined motorists, Officer Heinold
glanced at me reassuringly and replied, "We're
required to exercise caution when doing this."

reflected as we began radar
monitoring the traffic on Stadium
Boulevard, "You can watch them go to
a high point, and you can watch them
drop."
10:30 p.m. Heinold and Blake
patroled the Ann Arbor Airport's
driveways, considered University
terrain by the AAPD because of the
student group, The Michigan Flyers.
There was no trouble, only the small
matter of an apparently abandoned
Renault Le Car facing the runway.
The cruiser approached the Renault,
both officers wondering aloud what it
could be doing at this location. When
two heads appeared suddenly from the
front seat-male and female-their
curiosities were dispelled. Heinold
suggested an alternative site for the
couple to view planes taking off-down
the driveway a little way and to the
left-and they politely followed his
suggestion.
12:00 a.m. After a break at the nearby
Wendy's restaurant, we continued the
night shift. For a change of pace, we hit
the north side, specifically the Cedar
Bend Road-Island Drive Park area,
where the officers said a lot of people
tend to come out at night.' Driving down
the Cedar Bend gravel road, past the
popular "Lover's Lane" spots, twere
were no lovers-or anyone-in sight.
As we drove into Island Drive Park,
however, we did interrupt a social ac-
tivity of some sort. A large group of
black men was huddled around a picnic
table, and appeared somewhat startled
by our appearance.
"It's either a crap game or a good
sized poker game," Blake muttered as
the car crawled to a stop on the gravel
road. "No vehicles after 10 p.m., gen-
tlemen, you know that," Heinold an-

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he cranked the cruiser through a U-turn
and sped westbound. The siren blared.
.Heinold reached the mall in less'than
-five minutes. As he whisked through the
traffic, reaching 60'm.p.h. on one stret-
ch of Stadium Boulevard, cars in all
directions swerved away. At one point,
he drove on the left side of the road, into
,oncoming traffic: "Sometimes it's bet-
ter if you're actually coming at them,
,rather than around them from behind,
rwhere- they might not notice you as
fast." As he winged onto State Street,
-passing dozens of hastily-sidelined
motorists, he glanced at me
assuringly and replied, "We're
required to exercise caution when doing
this."
Despite our speed, the incident at
Sears had broken up by the time we
Arrived. The suspect had been brought
to the security office, and Heinold
would simply accompany the cruiser
carrying the alleged shoplifter to
headquarters.
5:45 p.m. After the suspect had been
brought in, Heinold searched him,
counted his money, and left him for the
"interview" which soon began behind
closed doors. While we were at the
station, Heinold gave me a thorough
tour-through the briefing room, com-
munications center, and evidence and
file storage rooms. Very compact,
carefully laid out. I was led down one
hall to the two holding tanks, where up
to .a dozen suspected lawbreakers can
, be held-dark, rectangular. chambers
'with one bench, and a metal toilet with
an attached sink.
"All the comforts of home," Heinold
joked, as I spotted the message
'Pigssuck" spray-painted on one wall.
Back on the road, Heinold decided to
estop at the Diag-to drive up the
driveway north of Mason Hall and cut
the engine. A brief staredown with the'
partiers on the lawn is always a good
"idea, Heinold explained. "It lets them
know you're around."
HOW TO
GET BETTER
MILEAGE FROM
YOUR CAR...
Obey the 55 mph speed limit.
K y g.
Keep your engine tuned.


Diag-most of, them drinking beer,
listening to radios, enjoying the
sunlight.
Having found no conspicuous offen-
ders-of-the-law, Officer Heinold
decided to try his hand with the radar.
Parking at the outlet of the Gallup Park
drive, pointing at Huron Parkway, he
unplugged the cigarette lighter and in-
serted the radar unit's cord.
Pointing the radar gun northward,
Heinold :could pick off the oncoming
traffic-which was winding out of a
hilly curve-before the cruiser came
clearly into sight. "You watch the traf-
fic, and use the radar for verification,"
he said as the first cars innocently
glided by.
.Suddenly a sitting duck. A blue Old-
smobile, driven by seemingly unatten-
tive woman, sped into view at 51
m.p.h.-eleven miles above the speed
limit. Heinold shifted the car into gear
and chased her. After seeing her license
and registration and running the details
through a check, he dismissed her with
a warning.
"Fifteen is generally my limit," the
officer explained later. "Beyond 15, I'll
usually write you a ticket."
7:30 p.m. The dispatcher said there
was a drifter on the south side of town
who had been begging quarters from
residents on a side-street. Heinold,
familiar with calls like this, cruised
toward the neighborhood. After zig-
zagging through the vicinity for several
minutes, he found himself on Packard
again-the suspect still at large. Once
again, he drove through the area, and
was flagged down this time by an
elderly woman, who then pointed to a
thick clump of bushes. The officer
disappeared into this cluster for several
minutes, and returned with the drifter's
name and hometown.
"He said he was resting in the
bushes," Heinold said after reporting to
headquarters. "Said he just hitch-hiked
from Madison, Wisconsin." Heinold ex-
plained that after getting the.
newcomer's identification and giving

see a stream of right fielders trampling
his shrubbery in pursuit of home runs.
Officer Heinold was virtually at a loss
for words. What could be done about the
poor man's dilemma? Move home
plate? The patrolman could only
recommend a call to the parks depar-
tment in the morning. He gave the
resident his business card, saying that
he'd call the department Ihimself if
there was no progress soon.
8:45 p.m. We drove back downtown
after the "Buhr Field Caper,"
discussing the impracticalities of relo-
cating home plate in center field.
Before picking up Heinold's partner,
we went on a quick run through the
Maynard Street parking structure.
"Lots+ of smoking, lots of drinking in
there," Heinold informed me.
Sure enough, within a minute there
were two arrests, but for neither of the
above offenses. These were "Urinating
in Public" violations, charged against
two teenagers on the structure's second
level. Since they were more or less
"caught in the act," there was little
resistance. One of them, with a Pin-
ckney driver's license, threatened a
lawsuit as we drove away, but Heinold
hardly noticed.
9:00 p.m. Heinold's partner is a tall,
portly black man with a bushy
moustache and a slick ability to twirl
his nightstick. Well-known to the mer-
chants and street-people near campus,
Richard Blake is clearly pleased with
his role on the force.
"You make a lot of friends walking
this beat," he said as we drove off.
"You form relationships that will last."
Heinold took the car downtown, and
we paid our first of many visits on the
Fourth Street crowd-people who were
reputedly prostitutes, pimps, drug
dealers, or thieves, and others who
were visibly alcohol-wrecked, im-
poverished, and idle. "They'll stand in
the middle of a downpour," Heinold
said of this latter group. "They won't
even know that it's raining."
"There are people on this job," Blake

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