Sheriff’s Station on Wheels Making Good Turns Routine

It’s just past 11 a.m. on Wednesday at the sheriff’s Mobile Community Station in Montalvo, and Joe Medina has just waved goodbye to his third and final visitor of the day.

The visitor came to complain about somebody else’s litter in his yard. Earlier in the morning, two folks stopped by to ask about the bicycle helmet law.

“It can be quiet sometimes,” Medina said. “Real quiet.”

It’s another low-octane day at the sheriff’s roving community relations command post where the public is invited daily to chat with sheriff’s employees and seek advice.

“It’s basically a public relations operation designed to allow the community to trust us,” Deputy A.C. Quintero said.

Born out of a desire to be more accessible to the public, the mobile station was conceived 18 months ago when deputies realized that a motor home they were using as a disaster command center wasn’t seeing much action.

Sheriff’s officials decided to rotate the vehicle regularly among 11 sheriff-patrolled communities in western Ventura County, seven hours a day, seven days a week at a cost of about $75,000 a year.

Officials say the program is worth the money and manpower spent on it.

“It has helped us find out neighborhood concerns that otherwise wouldn’t be addressed or even heard by the Sheriff’s Department,” Quintero said. “Many of these issues are outside the traditional scope of law enforcement and may sound minor--like parking complaints--but to people in these communities they’re a really big deal.”

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The Sheriff’s Department in Thousand Oaks is also developing a roving police station, but theirs would rove just two Saturdays a month and cost about $10,000 a year.

“During the week, people are busy . . . but they’re freer on Saturdays,” Sheriff’s Lt. Mike Brown said. “I don’t think I could justify [staffing the trailer] seven days a week. Right now, we’re more interested in putting more cops on the street who can answer calls for service in patrol cars.”

Most mornings in western Ventura County, it is Medina who picks up the 34-foot mobile home, seized in a drug bust years ago, and carefully drives it to the neighborhood du jour. “I have to remember to take turns slowly because the rear end hangs out pretty far,” Medina said.

Medina parks the leviathan, pulls out the awning, sets up a few chairs and takes in that day’s view. Sometimes it’s the beach, sometimes it’s a parking lot.

While a deputy patrols the neighborhood on a bicycle, Medina, a sheriff’s technician, completes paperwork on a computer . . . and waits.

“We don’t get any hot calls. In fact, we don’t receive calls,” Medina said. “Our job is pretty much to deal with whatever walks in the door.”

On this day--the day before his Montalvo stop--Medina quietly waits for company on Hollywood Beach’s Ocean Drive.

For more than an hour, he and a visitor quietly tap their feet in boredom. Then someone finally walks in the door.

“It’s sprinkling,” announces Caleb Leiterding , 7, a precocious second-grader on his way home from school.

Indeed, the windows are beading over with raindrops.

As if on cue, Caleb announces why he’s there.

“I come say hello every Tuesday. The police are nice. They’re my friends, the good guys.”

Caleb likes the renovated motor home with the carpeted walls too.

“It’s real big. I like big things.”

A few Power Ranger and junior deputy stickers later and Caleb is off to play.

“He’s a regular customer,” Medina said.

It’s not always this slow. About a dozen people a day visit the mobile station, according to sheriff’s records.

And things happen there.

“It’s a lot more than just a bus on the corner,” Quintero said. “I’ve personally counseled several women about domestic violence. In a patrol car you don’t have the luxury of taking the time to discuss these things in detail.

“But [at the mobile station] you can really make an impact and help. People aren’t intimidated or afraid to approach you. The communities get to know us as friends.”

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But few residents living within a block of the mobile station at Hollywood Beach know why it’s there. Many have never peeked inside to browse through the informational brochures or the reward poster for Clover, a beagle missing since October.

“I’ve never stopped in to say hello, but I always wear my seat belt and make a complete stop when I drive by,” said Sonja Papegaay, who has lived in the neighborhood for 18 years.

“What do they do over there anyway? Is it a recruiting station?”

Medina is asked at least once a week if he is a recruiter. Others stop by and ask if he takes passport photos, renews driver’s licenses or gives immunizations.

“Sometimes it takes awhile for people to catch on,” Medina said.

“We get a lot of people stopping to ask us how to get back on the freeway.”