As Officer’s Story Unfolds, Spotlight Falls on Stress Cases

Ever since Officer Stephen Williamson accidentally shot and killed an innocent bystander during a foot chase in 1981, he has suffered severe emotional stress and has had problems handling police work.

The San Diego patrolman became “unreasonable” and overzealous in enforcing prostitution laws, he was suspended for missing three court dates, and he had trouble controlling his temper, according to police memos obtained by The Times.

Williamson “is having severe difficulty coping with field situations and poses a potential hazard to both the community and his fellow officers due to his erratic behavior,” Sgt. Richard DeParis wrote in a February, 1983, memo. Last August, Williamson himself complained of a job-related injury to his “psyche.” He applied for worker’s compensation benefits, but he was ordered back to work after a two-month leave when a psychologist hired by the city pronounced him fit for duty.

In November, a month after returning to duty, Williamson shot a 19-year-old Marine in the back of the leg. Authorities later ruled that the shooting was justified, and Williamson returned to the streets.

Last month, he shot a 35-year-old Logan Heights man at point-blank range in a bitterly disputed shooting that has brought a $1-million legal claim against the city.

According to the police version of the March 23 shooting, based primarily on Williamson’s account, George Edward Balboa was under the influence of drugs when he came after the officer “in a threatening manner” with a chrome bar that broke off the light bar on top of Williamson’s patrol car. But several witnesses at the scene said Balboa was not armed and the shooting was unprovoked.

Today, Williamson, 31, is on paid leave and is undergoing psychiatric treatment following a doctor’s ruling that the six-year officer was unfit to go back to work, police sources said.

To Balboa and his attorneys, Williamson is simply a bad cop who had no business being on the streets.

“I feel something should have been done with this officer a long time ago,” said Deborah Carson, an assistant public defender who is representing Balboa on a charge of assaulting Williamson with a deadly weapon.

To many of his fellow officers, however, Williamson is a victim of a police department that is unresponsive to officers who have difficulty coping with the rigorous demands of police work. They contend that psychological problems among San Diego officers are largely ignored or dismissed by police administrators in an attempt to hold down the cost of disability retirement benefits.

“Williamson is an eye opener,” said attorney Paul Edmonson, who represents police officers in civil matters. “We don’t know how many preceded him or how many will follow. It’s conceivable you could have numerous other officers out there who should be reassigned to other positions . . . or sent to counseling groups. Otherwise, you will have these walking time bombs out there.”

Williamson’s case is the story of a single police officer whose job performance and emotional well-being plummeted after he returned to work five years ago, following the tragic shooting of a 29-year-old welder. Although Williamson’s immediate supervisors noted that his “stress control, self-esteem and composure” had deteriorated, the officer continued to work the city’s streets.

The handling of Williamson’s case raises questions about the diligence of San Diego police administrators in detecting problem officers and the potential risks of keeping troubled cops in the field to avoid paying stress retirement benefits.

In Williamson’s case, Assistant Police Chief Bob Burgreen insisted that police administrators took appropriate action each time they received reports concerning his personal and professional problems.

“I’m not going to comment about what we did,” Burgreen said. “It’s privileged information. . . . I will tell you that I have reviewed what happened to this officer after each of the shootings and I have reached the conclusion that we have handled this officer’s situation properly.”

Williamson and his San Diego attorney, Robert T. Thiessen, declined several opportunities to comment on the case.

Now that police officials have concluded their investigation into the handling of Williamson’s case, they are focusing their attention on finding out how confidential memos that spell out the officer’s problems were released to the media, Burgreen said. Police plan to press criminal charges if they learn who leaked the documents.

Police administrators deny that, to save money, they neglect the welfare of officers who exhibit symptoms of severe stress.

“When we have reason to believe an officer should not be carrying a weapon, we take it away. We do not do it every day . . . when necessary we do it and we’ll continue to do it,” Burgreen said.

But Burgreen conceded that recommendations to pull officers from the field by his front-line supervisors are often overruled by psychologists hired by the city.

“I am not a psychologist. I am not a psychiatrist,” Burgreen said. “I hesitate to second-guess people who have that kind of background training. You go to the best people you know who are trained to make that decision. You’re almost bound to go by what they tell you to do.”

Burgreen estimated that police officials take service revolvers away from officers about twice a year.

Two weeks ago, however, after details about Williamson’s background became public, police pulled at least two officers from duty and ordered them not to carry their department-issued firearms, The Times has learned.

One case involved an officer with 11 years’ experience who for the last year has been working with a weapon despite a personal physician’s recommendation that the officer should not use firearms while taking anti-depressant drugs. The other is a 17-year veteran who has been on heavy medication for six months, yet periodically responded to calls of dangerous felonies in progress.

Both officers were diagnosed as suffering from severe stress by their own psychiatrists but were unable to persuade the San Diego Police Department of the seriousness of their illnesses, sources said. They were transferred to light-duty work two weeks ago and continue to receive psychiatric treatment.

Burgreen said the timing of the two incidents on the heels of the Williamson case was “pure coincidence” and does not reflect increased concerns among police officials about the potential liability of leaving impaired officers in the field.

Police sources interviewed by The Times cited several cases of officers whose problems were ignored by police administrators.

Alexander Gojkovich worked as a patrolman for 13 years before he died Oct. 19, 1984--of chronic alcoholic cirrhosis, according to his death certificate. In July, 1983, Sgt. G.J. Tacoronte reported that Gojkovich, 35, repeatedly appeared for work intoxicated and reeking of alcohol.

Tacoronte, who could not be reached for comment, reported to his supervisors that a lieutenant told him that the scent on Gojkovich was “probably just after-shave (lotion) that smelled like an alcoholic beverage,” according to an internal police memo obtained by The Times. In addition, the lieutenant instructed Tacoronte not to mention the drinking problem in Gojkovich’s evaluation, the memo said.

Gojkovich’s last commanding officer said he tried to help Gojkovich, but it was too late.

“Action should have been taken long, long before he died,” said the supervisor, who asked not to be named. “I had nothing but contempt for those sergeants and lieutenants who overlooked his problem for so long.”

In Williamson’s case, The Times has learned from police sources, the officer was evaluated by a city psychologist after each of the three shootings. On the first two occasions, Williamson was pronounced fit for duty and ordered to return to work.

Williamson was hired by the San Diego Police Department in April, 1980. Shortly after graduating from the police academy, he was accused of using excessive force and vulgar language while responding to a call of a shouting match between a San Diego physician and his wife.

Williamson put the doctor in handcuffs, then punched him in the face, according to the doctor, who filed a lawsuit. The case was settled out of court for an undisclosed amount.

In July, 1981, Williamson was chasing two robbers who had stolen $50 from a liquor store when he fired a shot and struck Larry Pritchett, who had leaned out the front door of his 63rd Street home to watch the commotion. The stray bullet hit the 29-year-old welder in the head and killed him.

Pritchett’s family filed a $25-million lawsuit against Williamson and Police Chief Bill Kolender. A Superior Court judge awarded the family $100,000.

An investigation into the shooting by the district attorney’s office concluded that Williamson, then 25, “was acting properly” and was not “criminally reckless.”

Williamson returned to duty after a psychologist hired by the city found no ill effects from the tragic shooting.

In the 18 months following the shooting, Williamson was disciplined seven times--twice for missing court dates and failing in-service training exams, and once for using vulgar language, damaging a police vehicle in a traffic accident and taking a passenger on an unauthorized ride-along trip.

During this period, Williamson’s troubles were noted in his personnel evaluations.

“Steve needs to control his temper when dealing with citizens,” a supervisor wrote in December, 1981. “He expresses his displeasure with a surly response.”

An October, 1982, evaluation stated that Williamson had been suspended for missing a third court appearance. The report also noted that Williamson “became unreasonable in the zealousness of his enforcement” while he was assigned to the department’s prostitution detail. Williamson confiscated clothing and money from prostitutes regularly and overstepped constitutional limitations during strip searches of prostitutes conducted by female officers, the evaluation said.

In a February, 1983, memo, Sgt. DeParis wrote that Williamson drank heavily and often referred to spending “$20 to $40 in a bar.” DeParis also observed a “continual deterioration in his self-esteem, stress control and composure.”

The DeParis memo was never placed in Williamson’s personnel file and the officer was not told of it, Burgreen said. Instead, it was filed with the department’s health officer.

“That memo was nothing more than one officer sending a note to a superior officer saying this is going on and we ought to look at it,” Burgreen said. “It was not discipline or a counseling session. . . . That is just someone’s opinion. We don’t put someone’s opinion in a personnel file.”

Williamson’s troubles continued in February, 1984, when Sgt. Connie Zimmerman took Williamson’s weapon away because she had become increasingly concerned about his high level of stress. She noted in a police memo that Williamson had made lewd comments to her and he had failed to turn in his daily journal in December, 1983.

Williamson received his weapon back the next night and was reassigned to the Central Division after Capt. Dick Toneck decided that Zimmerman had retaliated against Williamson, who had filed a sexual harassment complaint against her a week earlier, police sources said.

Zimmerman, who is on unpaid leave from the department pending her own application for retirement disability benefits, said she has been ordered not to comment on the case. She is one of at least two dozen former and current officers who have banded together to criticize the department for its discriminatory hiring and firing practices.

Williamson remained on patrol until last August, when he filed a disability claim with the state Worker’s Compensation Board. According to the claim, Williamson wrote that he had sustained an injury to his “psyche” from the “cumulative stresses” of police work.

“He was feeling stressed primarily because he was depressed because of the original shooting incident and the sexual harassment situation he was put into,” a police official said. “He went to his own shrink, who said he’s not well and we’ve got to let him off.”

Several of Williamson’s fellow officers and supervisors told The Times that Williamson never seemed to recover from the emotional impact of shooting an innocent bystander in 1981.

Such shootings are usually the most traumatic for police officers, San Diego police psychologist Michael Mantell said.

“The officer has a tough enough time when he shoots someone who (he believes) deserves it,” said Mantell, while not commenting on the Williamson case specifically. “But he has a harder time when it’s an innocent person. The likelihood of post-trauma stress being increased after the shooting is great.”

After he complained of job-induced stress, Williamson was placed on leave for two months. He was reevaluated by a city-hired psychologist and ordered back to work in October.

One month later, Williamson was patrolling the Gaslamp Quarter when he heard a gunshot and spotted Marine Pfc. Kenneth L. Belgrade, 19, running down 4th Avenue carrying a weapon. According to police, Williamson and another officer identified themselves, but Belgrade failed to stop. Williamson fired twice, hitting Belgrade once in the back of the leg.

A police investigation determined that the shooting was justified, and Belgrade pleaded guilty to a charge of assault with a deadly weapon. As in the first shooting, Williamson was examined by a psychologist and returned to work in December.

On March 23, Williamson shot Balboa half a block away from his Logan Heights apartment. Williamson gave police investigators the following account:

He drove to the intersection of Sampson Street and Ocean View Boulevard to meet his sergeant. While waiting for his supervisor, Williamson attempted to repair the overhead lights on his patrol car, which were not operating. He removed a nine-inch chrome bar that is attached to the emergency lights and placed it on top of the police car.

Balboa, who had initially asked the officer if he needed assistance repairing the light bar, came back. This time he approached Williamson “in a threatening manner” and demanded that the officer hand over his police badge.

Williamson, who had retrieved his night stick from his car, said that Balboa was incoherent and appeared to be under the influence of PCP. (Investigators refused to provide the results of Balboa’s urinalysis tests.)

Balboa then tried to grab Williamson by the shirt. At this time, Williamson did not see anything in Balboa’s hands.

Suddenly, Williamson spotted a metal object in Balboa’s hand. He did not realize that it was the chrome bar he had taken off his police car. After repeated warnings, Williamson drew his .38-caliber revolver and fired three shots at Balboa, who was standing about three feet away. Two of the shots hit Balboa in the chest and groin.

Although Balboa was knocked to the ground, he had to be subdued by Williamson and a responding officer, who forcibly removed the bar from Balboa’s right hand and handcuffed him, said homicide Sgt. Ted Armijo.

Williamson “used what he thought was good judgment,” Armijo said. “Who’s to say because we weren’t there. He did what he thought was reasonable.”

Several eyewitnesses tell a different story.

Teodoro Velazco, 24, and Francisco Cuevas, 40, watched the shooting from their homes across the street. Their version of the shootings is consistent with statements by Balboa, his wife, Teresa, and another eyewitness, according to Carson, Balboa’s defense attorney.

In an interview, Velazco and Cuevas recalled the following:

Williamson appeared to be throwing a tantrum as he tried in vain to fix the flashing lights atop his car. The officer slammed his fist on the hood and yelled at a couple of passing vehicles.

Balboa approached the officer and inquired about the emergency light. Williamson pushed Balboa away and got back into his car. When he came out of the car, Williamson drew his weapon and told Balboa to step back.

Balboa “stepped three steps back and . . . the policeman shot him like a dog,” Velazco said.

Two shots hit Balboa, who fell on his back and clutched his stomach. The other shot narrowly missed Balboa’s wife, who was standing several feet behind her husband.

Witnesses said they did not see anything in Balboa’s hand and at no time did Williamson attempt to use his baton.

“The one thing that disturbs me greatly is that one officer says (Balboa) was still kicking and fighting when they were handcuffing him,” Carson said. “That’s not borne out by the wife or other witnesses. No one ever saw anything in his hand . . . we just have a cop protecting a cop. I can’t see anything . . . that indicates (Balboa) was approaching (Williamson) in anything but a friendly manner. Only Williamson perceives any kind of threat.”

Because of the complexity of the case, the district attorney’s office has decided to wait until Balboa’s May 9 hearing before ruling whether the shooting was justified, according to spokeswoman Linda Miller.

But Deputy Dist. Atty. Hugh McManis said that Williamson’s version of the shooting is consistent with statements by other officers and corroborating evidence.

“He called the station three different times asking for cover . . . and emergency, then he shot the guy,” McManis said. “You can tell by his voice that something is happening real quick right there.”

McManis accounted for the conflicting statements from other witnesses by saying that the shooting occurred at night, the neighbors were far away and they have “their own axes to grind.”

Balboa was hospitalized for two weeks before he was transferred to San Diego County Jail. He is being held on $25,000 bail on a charge of assaulting a police officer with a deadly weapon.

“Frankly, I felt they had to file these charges . . . to put up a smoke screen in a way as to protect this officer,” Carson said. “They know they are dealing with a bad officer in this case and that somebody should have done something before with this officer.”

According to police, Balboa has a long criminal record that includes assaults on police officers and various drug-related offenses.

Balboa has filed a $1-million claim against the city, alleging that the shooting was unwarranted and police tried to cover up the circumstances.

“There appears to be a scheme and conspiracy within the San Diego Police Department to defame Mr. Balboa and issue false statements about his behavior prior to the shooting in order to try to create a justification for the shooting,” the claim said.

Carson questioned the wisdom of police officials who assigned an officer with Williamson’s track record to Southeast San Diego.

“It amazes me he was on that particular beat,” Carson said. “That’s a real rough neighborhood. We’re talking about a high-crime area with lots of police calls relative to shootings and drugs.”

Williamson was examined last month after the Balboa shooting and was placed on paid leave after a psychologist ruled that he shouldn’t return to duty.

‘I feel something should have been done with this officer a long time ago.’

Deborah Carson

Assistant public defender