Image not recoveredstation.jpg
It’s another routine, hot summer day for LA County Sheriff deputy Rob Wilkinson. “Is the Ride Along here?” he asks no one in particular as I stand up to present myself in the dirty 1970s themed lobby of the Santa Clarita Valley Sheriff’s station. “Hi, I’m Jeff, pleased to meet you,” I reply, a bit intimidated but still looking forward to the experience. Deputy Wilkinson’s Ford Crown Victoria “Police Interceptor” is waiting in the parking lot, engine running, like it would be for most of the evening.
After the introduction, I grab my camera and water bottle and clip the “Observer” badge onto my collared shirt. I’ve signed the County’s Death and Injury waiver form with the names “Kuredjian” and “March” on my mind. I slip into the shotgun seat of the Crown Vic and buckle up, ready for an adventure.
On Friday, June 23, I participated in a Ride Along with veteran Sheriff’s Deputy Rob Wilkinson. It was an interesting five hour experience.
By entering the SCV Sheriff’s station, one submits to the Sheriff’s department schedule. I arrived at ten to 4 PM. Though my official Ride Along letter said I would be on patrol with a Deputy from 4pm to 8pm, it didn’t work out that way. For whatever reason, a Deputy assigned to me was delayed, so by 4:35, I was chatting with a few LA County Sheriff’s volunteers working the front desk.
“Going on a ride along is so interesting,” Volunteer Alvarez told me. “My four hour ride along started at 4pm but didn’t end until 10pm. On a ride along, you really get to see how interesting the public is.” Alvarez, an assistant manager at a Ralph’s Grocery store in Glendale lives in Santa Clarita and is enthusiastic about volunteering with the Sheriff’s department. She has been a volunteer since March, and though she hasn’t quite mastered the Department’s maze of paperwork, she adds a professional customer service touch to the Volunteer team.
Our conversation drifts between law enforcement topics and eventually settles on those infamous red light cameras sprouting up at various SCV intersections. “You know, the company that manufactures those cameras gets a large cut of the citation money when a red light runner is caught,” I say with a cynical grin on my face.
Image not recoveredvolunteer_small.jpg
“Those red light camera fees are brutal,” Volunteer Mike Shows tells me. “They cost more than if a Deputy catches you running a red light.” Shows has been a Sheriff’s department volunteer for several years and has mastered the front desk of the SCV Sheriff’s Department lobby. His counter work allows Deputies to answer 911 calls, work dispatch and talk to deputies in the field.
Deputy Rob Wilkinson
Deputy Wilkinson stands about 5’ 10 inches tall and is a slender but fit 170 lbs. Wilkinson has several tools on his belt: pepper spray, handcuffs, and of course, his 9mm Beretta 92FS. His dark Oakley sunglasses mask the movement of his alert eyes as we pull out of County/Library parking lot on Magic Mountain Parkway.
We are Unit 63. Our assigned patrol area is Canyon Country and the temperature outside the car must be in the mid 90s as 5pm approaches. The Vic’s windows are down, and the A/C is on full, keeping me cool and hot at the same time.
Image not recoveredcomputer2_small.jpg
While waiting at the Magic Mountain/Valencia Blvd intersection, Deputy Wilkinson checks the Crown Vic’s onboard computer for the latest dispatch call.417 - Male delivering construction equipment in front of [caller’s] home with a gun.
417 – person with a gun. The messages flashing across the amber five inch screen on Deputy Wilkinson’s onboard computer are often abbreviated summations of calls made to 911 or the SCV Sheriff’s station 255-1121 number.
Normally, a 417 call would result in a Code 3-a high speed, sirens & lights protocol that enables the Deputies to get to their destination as rapidly as possible. Since this call originates deep in Canyon Country and we’re just passing the Mercedes Benz dealership on Valencia Blvd, we proceed at normal speed. Other units are available to respond to this call more quickly than we are.
As my excitement (and apprehension) rises about seeing an unknown suspect with a gun, Deputy Wilkinson explains to me that callers will sometimes claim a gun is involved in their dispute in order to escalate the Sheriff’s response. “A lot of calls are false alarms,” Wilkinson says. He relates an incident in Santa Clarita a few weeks ago in which a dispute over parked vehicles blocking driveways escalated into a 911 call that one neighbor was threatening the other with a gun.
Sure enough, by the time we reach the Metrolink Station on Soledad Canyon, the radio crackles “Code 4,” the signal that the situation is under control and no additional resources are necessary. Apparently, no gun was involved in this dispute.
En Route to Canyon Country
Deputy Wilkinson is in his mid 30s and makes his home in Northridge. While en route to Canyon Country via Soledad Canyon, I ask him about his family.
Image not recoveredwilkinson_small.jpg
"I have three boys,” Wilkinson says, “ages 7, 6, and 2. My wife works from home as a book keeper.” Wilkinson explains that because the department is so short staffed, he is often requested to work overtime. I mention that the County money must be good for a Deputy on overtime, but the family man responds that he’d rather spend the time with his kids. “Why don’t you live out here in Santa Clarita?” I ask. “I’m not thrilled with that idea,” he replies, “This town is small enough that I may arrest someone and then see them in the grocery store while off duty.”
4:45 pm 242 – Battery call, Comet Way, Canyon Country
Reuther Avenue & Soledad Canyon. Deputy Wilkinson, reading the computer while at the stop light, explains to me how to operate the car’s computer system. “The dispatch comes across the screen, and we use these buttons to update the station on our status,” he says, pointing to a row of eight keys and one plastic-shrouded red Emergency key. Wilkinson’s fingers dance across the keyboard as he assigns the details of the 242 Battery call to memory and updates the station by pushing the “EN ROUTE” key.
Image not recoveredenroute.jpg
On a screen back in dispatch, Unit 63 has just told the system its location and status, allowing deputies there to allocate resources to other calls and monitor the 242 and dozens of other calls interactively. While this may seem like state of the art technology, Wilkinson explains that SCV Sheriff cars lack the sophistication and technical gadgetry of other police agencies.
“For whatever reason, these cars haven’t been updated in a long time.” Indeed, many modern police cruisers have hardened laptop systems with large LCD screens displaying dispatch information, maps and even suspect information. Despite that, Wilkinson can get nearly any information he needs from the tiny computer system. He demonstrates that by asking for my Driver’s License number. I cringe as I spell it out, hoping I don’t have any wants or priors on my record (there may be a few unpaid parking tickets from my Northern California university days). Wilkinson wants to see who he’s riding with.
Finding Comet Way
Without an interactive computer based map, Deputies in Santa Clarita must have a strong command of the ever changing local geography, but sometimes that is not enough. Where the hell is Comet Way? Wilkinson pulls out the Hutt Book, named after the deputy who invented it.
Image not recoveredhutt_small.jpg
To find Comet Way, I simply open the book to the C section, find Comet way, and look at the columns to its right- Sand Caynon and Soledad Canyon. The two columns tell the deputy the major cross streets which should clue him in on how to get there. Santa Clarita, however, is a different animal. The winding Avenidas and Vias may be pleasant for homeowners, but they wreak havoc on transit agencies and Sheriff Deputies. “Santa Clarita streets are difficult,” confirms Wilkinson, “for instance, in Saugus, you may be traveling north one moment, then south the next, all on the same street.” Wilkinson says the Hutt book for Santa Clarita is updated yearly, though in 2004 there were no updates because areas of the City were being built up so fast. “The 2005 book was much bigger than the 2003 book,” Wilkinson tells me.
5:08 pm, 10/97 Comet Way
We arrive at the address on Comet Way, an undeveloped dirt road off of Sand Canyon with large, custom built homes. Wilkinson keys 10/97 on the computer, “Arrived on Scene.”
We are greeted by a tall, thin, fit man in his mid 50s. He visited the Sheriff’s station earlier in the day in order to report Battery on him by his neighbor. Deputies at the station, overworked as usual, took down his information and promised a unit would visit him later.
The man, an LAPD officer six days away from retirement, explained that his neighbor was drunk and belligerent the night of June 5th.
Image not recovered242_small.jpg
“Some kids were racing up and down the street,” the man says. “I came out to see what was going on and saw my neighbor.” The neighbor, a Captain with the Pasadena Fire Department, was allegedly intoxicated and confrontational. The LAPD officer, in his verbal report to Deputy Wilkinson, alleges that the Pasadena fire Captain pushed him. The LAPD officer responded by “leg sweeping” the man, forcing him to the ground. He then asked his family to bring him handcuffs so that he could detain the Fire captain until Sheriff Deputies arrive. The LAPD officer’s family could not find the handcuffs, so he eventually let the Fire captain go back to his house. In the interests of being neighborly, the LAPD officer did not report the incident to Sheriff Deputies.
Until today. Once we hear his story, the Officer explains that the Fire captain has contacted the LAPD’s Internal Affairs division and filed an assault complaint against him. The LAPD officer now wants his side of the story to be documented.
Deputy Wilkinson patiently listens to the Officer recount the entire affair. He jots down witness names, birthdates, phone numbers, and other information. He asks questions about the location of the Officer and the Fire Captain, their history together, and if things like this have happened before. I stand in the dining room of the Officer’s home, spellbound. How is he going to sort this convoluted story out?
The report complete, we are 10/98 (Leaving Scene) at 5:27pm. I verbalize the obvious: “I’m sure the Pasadena Fire Captain sees the events of June 5 differently.”
The incident highlights the difficulties Santa Clarita deputies are faced with when dealing with the public, even if the public are fellow members of Law Enforcement. Hazy recollections, differing perceptions, agendas and vendettas, and outright lies greet Deputy Wilkinson on a daily basis. Even if the LAPD officer is telling the truth, he is telling the truth as he sees it, and it is up to Deputy Wilkinson to ask the proper questions and document the man’s report. “It’s best to put as much information as possible into a report, in order to protect everyone,” Wilkinson tells me.
Sierra Highway and Unit 63, 5:40pm
After leaving Comet Way, we head back to the City. We spot several pedestrians on the sidewalk, and Wilkinson tells me how many times Deputies are flagged down. “Sometimes we are flagged down for road rage incidents, bad or reckless driving, and other violations. Sometimes people flag us down in order to get directions or a ride to some location.” I can’t imagine flagging down a Sheriff Deputy in order to find directions or get a ride to the local Pottery Barn, but some people do apparently!
Turning left onto Sierra Highway from Soledad Canyon, Deputy Wilkinson spots a beige late 1990s Mercury Tracer sedan with expired registration tags. Wilkinson keys in the license plate number into the computer, pages through the file, and finds no wants or priors on the list. The driver’s tags expired in January, 2006, nearly 6 months ago.
We follow the driver into the parking lot of a day care business off of Sierra Highway. Wilkinson fires up the lights as we pull in behind the driver.
Image not recoveredexpired_small.jpg
The female driver, around 35 years old, remains in her car as Deputy Wilkinson exits the cruiser, right hand resting on his belt, near the Beretta. After a few minutes, the woman exits her car, and continues to talk to Wilkinson. Wilkinson takes her driver’s license and insurance information back to his cruiser. With Wilkinson’s permission, the woman walks to the day care center to pick up her son.
I ask Deputy Wilkinson about the encounter. “She was nice at first, but when I informed her about her expired tags, she turned on the waterworks.” Wilkinson explains that expired registration tags can lead to an impound of the car if the tags have been expired for over six months. “By giving her a $10 fix-it ticket now, I’m potentially saving her $1000 in impound fees if she doesn’t update her tags by next month,” he explains.
Image not recoveredticket_small.jpg
As Wilkinson completes the ticket, the woman and her four year old son approach the police cruiser. “Is this going to take much longer,” the woman asks, “I have to pick up my other son.” Wilkinson replies that he’s almost finished and attempts to engage the four year old boy in a conversation. He offers to fire up the police siren for the child. The child is interested in the police car but doesn’t answer. Instead, he fiddles with the air conditioning vent to the left of the steering wheel. Thirty seconds later, the woman states: “You guys don’t like me. In the two months I’ve been here, I’ve been pulled over two times!” I almost expected to hear, “You guys should be out fighting real criminals, not tax-paying citizens!”
As we exit the parking lot, Deputy Wilkinson tells me “I’m not big on [traffic] tickets.” I ask him about the oft-cited ticket quota myth: “There is no quota system for tickets. Obviously, [our superiors] want productivity when we’re in the field. People pay us to enforce the law, they just don’t like it when the law applies to them.”
Anybody Thinkin' Panda??
After a dinner break at Ameci’s on Soledad & Sierra Hwy, Deputy Wilkinson and I proceed on Via Princessa towards a 927C (Check Area) call off of Soledad.
Suddenly, we get an audio report of a “90IT”, an automobile accident with unknown injuries on Via Princessa.
We’re Code 3 and 80 miles per hour en route to an accident scene, next, in Part 2 of this article. Ride Along with a Santa Clarita Sheriff's Deputy, Part 1
Comments (1)