What Gates, Block Have in Common

Police Chief Daryl F. Gates and Sheriff Sherman Block have a lot in common.

Not physically. The chief is a fitness freak, his body lean from running and other painful exercises, his face tan despite the health danger of Southland sun. The sheriff, on the other hand, looks like a man who enjoys a good chat over coffee and a jelly doughnut.

But similar are their hair-trigger tempers and extreme sensitivity to criticism. Both have strong personalities, so strong that their personas have become intertwined with the departments they head, much like the FBI during the reign of J. Edgar Hoover.

That combination of traits is shaping the current debate over the practices and policies of the Los Angeles Police Department and the Sheriff’s Department.

For example, at City Council sessions on proposed Police Department reforms, council members sometimes seem to fall all over themselves trying to second-guess what Gates will favor and oppose. And when county supervisors held a hearing on accusations of deputy brutality, they gave Block a seat with them on the rostrum and permitted him to open the session with his own announcement.

Gates’ personality is not news. Everyone knows he has a temper. His confrontational style--military manner, taut face and flashing eyes--are familiar to all who watch TV. So is his matter-of-fact, cutting style of speech.

That was the Gates I encountered one day at the height of the Rodney G. King beating controversy. He spotted me across the Parker Center lobby after a Police Commission meeting and waved me over. I could see he was mad about something.

He told me how much he disliked a recent column about how some mothers and sisters of black cops were unhappy about the King beating. He said it was wrong, unfair, slanted and showed my prejudices.

I disagreed. We argued. Our voices rose as his sizeable entourage and a number of passersby listened. It must have been a pretty good argument. A few days later, one of Gates’ assistants called and said the chief was sorry we had gotten into a “shouting match.” I told him he didn’t have to apologize, the chief and I were just having an honest disagreement.

Block’s temper is less obvious. In public, he comes across as calm and thoughtful.

Maybe it’s just me, but I haven’t always found him so in private.

During the 1990 primary, I wrote a column about why the sheriff faced only minor opposition even after several deputies in the narcotics unit had been charged with corruption. Preparing to write it, I’d had a pleasant interview with Block. The column was anything but harsh criticism. It explained why incumbents had such a great advantage in Los Angeles County elections.

But the piece infuriated Block. The next day, an adviser called to tell me Block was really mad.

During the dedication of the Blue Line trolley a few weeks later, I went up to the VIP stand to chat with Supervisor Kenny Hahn. Block was standing nearby. We looked at each other without speaking.

Noting the tense atmosphere, Hahn thought he’d make some mischief. “Sherm,” he said, “why didn’t The Times endorse you?” He was referring to my paper’s lack of enthusiasm for Block’s reelection campaign.

Block, suddenly looking every bit as fierce as Gates, turned on me. I don’t remember exactly what he said and I didn’t take notes. But I believe he said that my paper didn’t endorse him because of the trash I had written about him.

I replied that I thought the column was fair, and pretty bland. Block’s face turned red. He embarked on a more detailed and even less flattering analysis of my work, and myself. I told him he was just being overly sensitive. He stormed away.

“Well,” said Hahn, laughing at the trouble he’d caused, “if I were you, I wouldn’t speed in any territory patrolled by the Sheriff’s Department.”

OK, reader, I can hear you saying, “Big deal. So, the sheriff and chief have tempers. You call that a scoop, Mr. Reporter? Ike had a temper, and he was a terrific general. And what about Patton? Hey, I’m glad they have tempers.”

You’ve got a point. I don’t want one of those chiefs who paint the police cars baby blue and make the cops wear blazers, like they did in some cities in the sensitive ‘70s.

It’s just that Gates and Block take everything so personally. When anyone criticizes their departments, they take it as a personal insult--and blow up. Inevitably, the debate centers on them.

Even when he was on vacation, Gates was a presence in the City Council arguments over the Christopher Commission report on the LAPD. And when the supervisors began their 10-hour hearing on allegations of brutality in the Sheriff’s Department, Hahn led off by saying Block “is the most intelligent sheriff in America.”

Maybe so. But that’s not the issue.