Sgt. David Lundberg is a feature columnist with the Salt Lake Tribune.
Dave's unique stories of life in Public Safety are the result of many years playing COPS & ROBBERS for real.
Several stories have been featured on the televison show, "America's Dumbest Criminals".
Dave has also been a guest on the "Leeza Gibbons Show".
The column selections will follow publication in the Tribune.
Please send comments to the e-mail address below.
Thanks for stopping by!
"In God We Trust....All Others We Run N.C.I.C."
----------------------------------------------------------------------
COPS & ROBBERS
Sgt David Lundberg
Setember 27, 1999
The Criminal Mind is a Terrible Thing to Waste
A while ago, I asked my six-year-old where her smile had gone. She paused for a moment and said, "I'm sorry, but I think my smile is stuck in my throat!" In this job, some cops seem to have their smile stuck somewhere. But don't let the serious demeanor fool you. As I've said before, many times cops have to stick that smile so far down in their throats, it's hard to get them out again. Why? Because laughing at a customer is not good business no matter what line of work you're in.
I can tell you that after talking with bad guys for as long as have, I've found that the part of the brain that makes up excuses and explanations on a moments notice, is fightingly similar between kids and criminals. For example, In a written statement a guy wrote that he saw his buddy commit a crime, but the cops would never get him to TEST-A-FLY in court. Now I'm thinking, what does the scholastic aptitude of a common house fly have to do with the case at hand. And besides, how does one TEST- A-FLY? Maybe little flash cards with scenes of juicy barn yards and day old candy coated garbage cans. "Your honor, if it pleases the court, Mr. Fly will now demonstrate the methane gas sensitivity test to exhibit A, a pile of rotten cabbage." I can handle cross examination by the likes of Ron Yengich, but don't make me TEST-A-FLY without at least some time to bone up.
In another case, a driver wrote in his statement that he could not avoid the accident because he was distracted by punching his girlfriend in the face. I wonder if on the way to jail, this guy came to the conclusion that distracting the cop by admitting to an assault, would not necessarily get him out of a minor traffic ticket?
Another driver stated that he could not avoid the accident because a deer failed to use the crosswalk and jumped in front of his car. The deer was described as tall, brown, and with eyes that glowed in the dark. I hate it when drivers think they can get out of a ticket by passing the BUCK!
Not long ago, a kid armed with a baseball bat climbed into the back of his buddies pickup truck, and proceeded to practice his swing on the neighborhood mailboxes. It was clear by the number of misses, that his batting average was a little off. His good friend behind the wheel, thought it would help to drive faster and closer to the intended targets. The batter now desperate for a home run, leaned out a tad too far and fell right out of the back of the truck, landing within inches of the unscathed mailbox. People gathered around his asphalt dugout to make sure he didn't prematurely leave the field. The scratched and red faced boy ended up striking out and his good friend in the truck just kept on driving. It's a typical case of partners in crime, when things are going your way, everybody wants to be your buddy. But when you fall, they'll leave you in the dust.
I guess we can't hope for too much from the bad guys. It's hard enough trying to think up schemes like running out of a restaurant without paying and forgetting your brochures on the table. The ones with your name and phone number on them. Logic would infer that if everyone was as smart as you and me, there wouldn't be bad guys. Then I'd be out of a job and probably writing a column on lint removal or something.
Not long ago I asked my six-year-old why the sky was so high. After some pondering she said, "It's so the birds don't bump their heads when they fly!" How right she is! As parents, I guess all we can hope for are kids that grow up healthy and wise. With some smarts and a little luck, they'll keep their feet on the ground, and won't have to worry about bumping their heads when they too get ready to fly.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
September 13,1999
The Key to A Great Police Department: Look Marvelous!
It seems like there is a lot of criticism of law enforcement recently. Questionable shootings, deadly pursuits, and let's not forget the billy club bongo at the park. For the most part however, I think most citizens trust cops and are pleased with their service to the community. I have my own theories about why cops have maintained a positive position in the community. Here are some examples.
I don't hear people referring to us as "pigs" much anymore. Is it because pork has been elevated to the level of prime rib? Or that pork products are taunted for being healthy? You know the ad, "pork, the other white meat." Or is it because the term Pig has been socially retired along with other expressions such as, "groovy" and "far out." No, being the optimist that I am, I believe that most people today find our police officers generally more appealing.
I've noticed recently that we have some of the best looking police officers per pistol than any other area in North America. Take our motorcycle officers for instance. These guys are not only regarded as some of the best trained professionals in the business, they have also been known to turn more heads than a stripper in church. I wonder how many ladies have sped through their neighborhood hoping one of these studs would pull them over. More than one ticketed motorist has been known to say, "Gee officer, I don't agree with this ticket, but you sure looked good writing it."
Now if you are one of those who believes a great date starts with a red light in your rear view mirror, be advised that at last count, most motor officers are happily married. Sorry men, female motor officers are still rare in these parts.
Have you noticed how clean and pressed most cops are? Even K-9 dogs are equally clean and free of ticks and flee. There aren't any fashion thrill seekers in our detective or support staff either. If I told you what our top-secret dope cops look like I'd have to kill you. If you're still interested, turn on MTV for a few minutes and you'll get the idea.
Over all I think it comes down to the manner in which our people work within our community. We pride ourselves on our respect for all our citizens, wrinkled or well pressed.
When you're driving around and you see one of our officers, give them a wave. If your too busy trying to put your seat belt on, a smile would be sufficient. And next time you stand next to one of us you'll be pleasantly surprised at our clean, fresh scent. I must warn you though, the act of sniffing an officer may be interpreted as an overt act of aggression, please act accordingly.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
August 30, 1999
It was 2:00 A.M. one summer morning when I got this call; "Units respond to the area of the cemetery on a suspicious circumstance, the female complainant says she can hear moaning coming from the rear of the mortuary building."
In a trance like state commonly referred to as M.C.S. (Morbid Curiosity Syndrome), every officer on the road converged on the scene. I pulled into the parking lot, past the graves and statues turning my lights off to avoid being seen. I drove around the rear of the building as slowly and quietly as possible.
I probably should have gotten out of my patrol car and walked in, but I chose to drive around the corner of this (sure to be haunted) building. As I got closer, I could see the back door was open slightly. The hair on the back of my neck stood up as my vocal cords played the cowards theme in my throat for all to hear, "131, I have an open door....ahhh...is there a back up near by?"
Suddenly, out of the darkness, the Sergeant arrived under the M.C.S. trance and volunteered to assist. "Hey Sarge, Do I have to go in there?" "What's the matter, are you afraid of ghosts?", The Sarge replied with an evil laugh. Another officer arrived and was immediately assigned by Sgt. Coward to follow me inside. In the wisdom of Yoda, The Sarge counseled; "you should have resisted the morbid curiosity young copper.... now you have to go into the dark side of a Mortuary." (By the way, Sergeant Watson is now Lieutenant Watson. I guess all that wisdom finally paid off!)
I asked dispatch to call the mortuary owner and see if he'll come down and go inside. I figured he could walk in first and tell us which dead person belongs there and which one doesn't. But unfortunately, the owner could not be reached. After a pep talk by the Sarge consisting of, "Just get in there you wimps!", the officer and I were ready to enter the great unknown. As we walked slowly toward the large metal door. I remember thinking, what if there is a grave robber inside and he's stuck in a casket? What if I find a head stone with my name on it? I think my partner was having the same thoughts because we drew our guns at the exact same time. As we entered door way I whispered, "Why do we have our guns drawn? What good are bullets going to do? What we needed is a large cross and a stake!"
"Police.....cccccome out with your hands or whatever up, sssssso I can see them!!".
As it turned out, we never did find out who or what was doing all the moaning. But the scariest part of this story is yet come.
While I was inside finishing up, the really ghoulish goings-on were being carried out in the parking lot. The Sarge had summoned an officer with a ride along Explorer Scout to the parking lot. Quickly they placed the giggling young scout into the back seat of my patrol car. You see, Sergeant Watson has always been known for his harmless but effective pranks. And to him, it would have been a mortal sin to let this golden opportunity pass him by.
I emerged from Satan's Adrenaline Theme Park still shaking off the weebie geebies I sat and recounted the events to a M.C.S. discussion group that had formed in the parking lot. After awhile we disbanded and headed back out into the community. As planned, I was one of the first to leave driving north on State Street happily to be leaving the grave yard behind me. About a block down the road, and still in sight of the ghoulish spectators, I felt a hand grab the top of my shoulder. My entire body froze. I could still see and think, but I could no longer move.
"The grave yard moaner was hiding in my patrol car the whole time", I thought. "Do I dare to look in the rear view mirror?, NO NO" Suddenly another hand, presumably belonging to the same zombie, grabbed my other shoulder. Now that my fingers had become a permanent addition to my steering wheel, I could no longer turn. Because of this phenomenon, my patrol car slowly began leaving the roadway. In hindsight, I guess I'd rather be killed by hitting a power pole than to be eaten alive by Satan's little helper. As the roadside dust swirled around the car, I heard a familiar giggle coming from the back. I realized I'd been had again by Watson and his band of good humor terrorists. I turned around and dropped off the Hitler youth in the parking lot to a brigade of high fiving, knee slapping, former friends of mine. Well actually, they remained friends of mine, but only because I knew that sooner or later , everyone became a victim of Watsons harmless, but effective schemes.
As I sped away from them all, I yelled out, " It's a good thing I didn't shoot the little demon!" (The truth be known, I was so scared I couldn't even form a sentence, let alone shoot a gun.)
Nowadays I tell young people interested in becoming police officers that they can't be afraid of chasing dangerous criminals. Officers must have a sense of humor as well as nerves of steel. You better be willing to work odd hours and perform flawlessly under stress. You never know when you'll be called on to do the unthinkable........like work on a grave yard shift with Lt. Watson.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------