Chaplains Tend to the Spirit of the Law With Oxnard’s Police Force : Religion: Officer’s death led to the establishment of a volunteer corps of ministers who lend support in times of stress.

It was one of the worst tragedies in Oxnard police history, and the department was unprepared to deal with it.

Death, which comes so rarely to an Oxnard officer in the line of duty, had claimed a young father of two. And there was no one on hand to help the other officers cope with the grief and anger and fear sparked by the slaying of Detective James O’Brien.

Standing at O’Brien’s graveside in December, 1993, then-Assistant Chief James Latimer mused about an idea he had had for some time to introduce a spiritual side to the Oxnard Police Department.

It would not be available in time to help deal with O’Brien’s slaying--a crisis-response team from Los Angeles County was imported to help employees and their families with that.

But even so, from O’Brien’s death sprang the Oxnard police chaplain program, involving half a dozen volunteer ministers from various denominations who spend their spare time getting to know the officers and being available to help in times of need.

With confidentiality as their sworn obligation, the ministers help police personnel and their families with everything from personal problems to job stress. The idea is to provide a service to the individual, but the department benefits as well.

After all, a troubled officer does not make a highly effective one, Latimer said in an interview before his retirement last month.

The chaplain program “relieves some of the stress going on before it creates a lot of problems,” he said, adding that if officers “aren’t mentally ready to do what they’re supposed to do, they put themselves in danger.”

There is also a monetary advantage to the program, said Chaplain Larry Modugno.

“When you have officers with problems, their productivity drops and their self-esteem drops,” Modugno said. “They’re more prone to make a mistake and end up causing a lawsuit for the department. It’s been proven that chaplains save the departments a lot of money.”

The chaplain program officially began a year ago, with Modugno, a Catholic deacon, heading a team of six religious leaders. The department bought the chaplains their police jackets and paid for some of their training, but the overall cost to the city has been negligible because the ministers donate their services.

Modugno was a Ventura County sheriff’s deputy for 20 years and currently works as chaplain at the California Youth Authority’s Ventura School. His law enforcement experience has helped him bridge the gap with police officers.

“It makes it easier for them to accept me as a chaplain because of my background,” said Modugno, who was ordained five years ago as a permanent deacon, a clergy position for married Catholic men that includes many duties normally performed by priests. “I’ve just about seen everything that they’re going to see.”

The Rev. Daniel Green of the First Assembly of God Church in Port Hueneme said he and the other chaplains have worked slowly but persistently to become acquainted with the officers and gain their trust.

“We do not want to come in like gangbusters and try to save the Oxnard Police Department to any particular ideology or thinking,” Green said. “We’re still in--I guess you would call it--a rookie stage. They’re still trying to figure out why we’re here.”

The reason they are there is manifold.

Latimer said it was “very obvious” when O’Brien, 35, was killed how important a chaplain program could be. The detective was shot while trying to apprehend a Ventura man who had just slain three people at an unemployment office in Oxnard. Police fatally wounded the assailant, Alan Winterbourne, minutes later as he attempted to enter the Ventura unemployment office.

Many police officers blamed themselves after O’Brien’s death, asking themselves “What if . . . ?” questions and feeling that perhaps they could have saved his life had they just done something differently.

“There was a lot of Monday-morning second-guessing,” Latimer said.

Chaplains could have helped those officers understand that O’Brien’s death was not their fault, he said.

Before then, it had been 12 years since an Oxnard officer was killed in the line of duty. A much more frequent occurrence--and a situation where chaplains can also be of help--has been when an officer does the shooting.

“A lot of people believe officers love to get out there and shoot it up,” Modugno said. “But officers go through a great deal of turmoil when they shoot someone, even if it’s the most legal shooting in the world.”

Taking another person’s life “puts your own mortality on the line,” Modugno said. “You wonder, ‘Can I shoot again? Is this job worth taking somebody’s life?’ ”

Following a shooting, an officer is prohibited from discussing the incident with anyone--including family--except the department’s internal affairs team. An exception is made, however, if the officer wants to talk to a chaplain.

“We may not have anything to say to him, but it’s important that we’re there just so he can talk to us, can get it off his chest,” Modugno said.

Latimer sees chaplains as a link between the public and law enforcement. Police officers, because of the work they do, tend to be suspicious of others and form a closed society, he said.

As an outgrowth of that, officers often don’t communicate well with their spouses, Latimer said. Believing that nobody understands what they do, officers tend to hang out together, socializing with each other to the exclusion of family and other friends.

“They say they’re relieving stress when they’re drinking, but they’re not,” Latimer said. “They’re just making it worse. They’re painting themselves into the corner.”

Chaplains can help officers learn to maintain a balance in their lives, Latimer believes.

“Officers are always looking to each other for support, but it’s not always positive support,” he said. “We need somebody to tell us when we’re wrong.”

Chaplains have spent the last year trying to get to know as many of the 170 officers and 99 civilian employees as possible by riding along on patrol and spending time at the police station. The intended purpose is for the officers to get to know the chaplains, but it is the chaplains who say they have learned the most.

Chaplain Earl Jardine, a former bishop in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, said he thought he knew before what police work was like, “but I didn’t know anything.”

“I have just a great, great respect for the men on patrol,” he said. “It’s a difficult, difficult job.”

Green of First Assembly of God said going out on patrol has been an eye-opening experience for him as well.

“I guess you could say there’s some real bad people out there,” he said. “It’s difficult to come home and to shed that, but yet I have a brand-new appreciation for what the officers do.

“Sometimes I feel like I want to come in [after patrol] and take three baths.”

The Rev. Lonnie McCowan, pastor of Solid Rock Christian Center in Ventura, said the public has a misperception of police officers.

“They read them wrong,” McCowan said. “They may think they’re some kind of robots, and I know different. These are real men and women.”

And Rabbi Aaron Kriegel of Temple Ner Maarav in Encino said he is amazed that the officers “see the worst part of society and still keep their dignity and bearing and don’t give up on people.”

A chaplain is on call 24 hours a day to help officers with any problem that might arise. Cmdr. Joseph Munoz, a 22-year department veteran, thought he would never need the chaplains. He was wrong.

It was March 3, and the 47-year-old Oxnard resident was at home watching television when he got a pain in his abdomen. An emergency appendectomy revealed the presence of two tumors, and a second surgery was scheduled to remove them.

In the next few days, before Munoz learned the tumors were benign, he reflected on his life and wondered if he would see his two sons, 10 and 13, grow up. When word got out that he was hospitalized, the chaplains started visiting him daily, offering prayers and encouragement.

“In a time of need, in a time of prayer, they were there,” said Munoz, who normally attends church two or three times a year. “I would not hesitate to refer an officer to them if they had a problem. . . . As far as I’m concerned, they’re an integral part of the organization.”

The chaplains undergo training every month, learning various police procedures so they are a help, rather than a hindrance, to officers in the field. Wearing a black police jacket with “Chaplain” emblazoned on the back, the clergymen also have access to bulletproof vests and have been trained in the use of Mace.

They are not, however, police officers. “We don’t want to be cops,” Green said.

Latimer said it is difficult to measure the success of the program because so much of the chaplains’ work is done in strict confidence. He is optimistic about their future, however.

“I say give them another year and they’ll be accepted as a necessary part of the department,” Latimer said.

David W. DeRevere, executive director of the International Conference of Police Chaplains, said it is common for programs to require up to 18 months before they jell.

“Police officers by nature are suspicious, and they should be,” DeRevere said. “Chaplains have to prove themselves and earn the respect of the police before an officer will trust them.”

Modugno, however, thinks the chaplains already have made a substantial contribution in Oxnard.

“I think in just the short time we’ve been here, we’ve made a lot of difference in a lot of people’s lives,” he said.