When a Cop Is Really Needed, Who Cares if He’s Nice?

I wrote the following column Friday afternoon, then left for a family-oriented weekend. The tragic death of California Highway Patrol Officer Don Burt on Saturday was a grim reminder what a tough job police officers have, and how much we need to appreciate them.

In any debate over cops good and bad, my own attitude is heavily influenced by this scenario, repeated almost any day or night in Orange County:

The police dispatcher gets a 911 call, “robbery in progress.” The closest unit heads to the scene. Two officers jump out of their cruiser, totally in the dark about what they’re facing. I well remember a speech by Superior Court Judge William Bedsworth about the police business: It’s not an exaggeration, the judge told his audience, that no uniformed officer can guarantee that the next call won’t be his or her last.

Even so, lately I’ve had my fill of police officers in my life.

A member of my family was cited in Santa Ana a few weeks ago for making an illegal lane change. You hate to see your spouse suffer the humiliation of a ticket, and having to pay for traffic school. But there was at least a slight upside to it: It was her, not me. It was like having a wild card in the hole I could play the next time I did something wrong.

But recently I lost my hole card--big time. I got nailed by a California Highway Patrol officer for failing to wear my seat belt. No excuses, you understand, but darn if that doesn’t seem like a picky fine. Why can’t they concentrate on tailgaters or speeders? What really bugged me was having to tell my wife. She’s a stickler for seat belts. Having that hole card was the only thing that didn’t make it worse than it was.

Then, last week I had another dealing with a police officer, also less than pleasant:

I was the third car waiting at a stoplight on Lampson Avenue in Anaheim, in a string of about eight cars. The car ahead of me decided to shift over to the right edge; he wanted to turn right onto Harbor Boulevard and got tired of waiting for the light to change. By great misfortune, another driver several cars behind me was tired of waiting too, and gunned it into that narrow path next to the sidewalk.

It wasn’t pretty as these two wrong-doers collided. (Is there a worse sound than metal crunching metal?) There were plenty of witnesses to what happened, but none of them stuck around, except me. I wasn’t too happy about it, because I was late for dinner. But what are you going to do? When I recently got my driver’s license renewed, I remember the manual clearly stating that witnesses to an accident should not leave the scene.

When a police officer arrived, each driver tried to convince him the other was at fault. He told them they’d have to settle their differences between them, since neither was covered by auto insurance. He quieted them down by telling them they were lucky he didn’t write them a ticket for driving uninsured.

Then he turned to me: “What do you want?”

“I’m just a witness,” I said.

His reply: “Get out of here.”

Good manners are not a prerequisite for a cop’s job.

All of this has left me a little steamed. Two idiots are driving without insurance while I’m eating enormous insurance payments every month. They both get off with a lecture after making illegal moves that led to an accident. Meantime, my wife and I are nailed with fines for minor code violations.

OK, it happens. More important is that 911 scenario. The next robbery-in-progress call might very well come from my house. The police officer in the unit closest to the scene might be the fellow who responded to the accident at Lampson and Harbor. And when he rushes to my door to lay his life on the line for my family and me, I’m not going to worry much whether he’s bringing his good manners with him.

Ship Love: Garden Grove insurance agent Bill Wallace got upset a few years ago when he heard that his old ship, the aircraft carrier Forrestal, was about to be decommissioned. He wrote his congressman, Rep. Robert K. Dornan (R-Garden Grove), to ask if anything could be done to stop it. Some things even Dornan can’t do.

But Dornan did see to it that Wallace got an invitation to the decommissioning ceremony back East--and Wallace went. At that ceremony, he learned about plans for a reunion for Navy personnel who had made the ship their home, as Wallace did for more than two years. So he’s gone back for that. He leaves next month for the next one in Baltimore.

Wallace told me a lovely footnote: His son Mike, a deputy sheriff, ran into John Wayne Airport operations manager Bill Pemberton, and somehow the subject of the Forrestal came up. Turns out Pemberton was an old Forrestal radio man, unaware of the reunions. So he’s planning on making the one in 1997 in Hyannisport, Mass. He’s since learned that one of his closest friends from the ship will be there too. They haven’t seen each other in 40 years.

Says Wallace, who will also renew old friendships: “You don’t ever forget the guys you knew on ship.”

Nature’s Call: U.S. Department of Interior Secretary Bruce Babbitt will be here Wednesday for dedication of the 37,000-acre nature reserve in the south-central portion of the county. It’s the result of three years of planning by landowners, environmentalists and government officials. Babbitt congratulated members of the Board of Supervisors after they approved the plan in April--it will protect dozens of animal and plant species. The Irvine Co. contributed more than half the acreage and you can bet that its chairman, Donald Bren, will be among the VIPs at the ceremony.

Wrap-Up: I wasn’t that surprised when I heard those two at the Lampson-Harbor accident say they weren’t insured. My wife and I were struck from behind in a four-car accident on Euclid Avenue last year and none of the other three drivers carried a lick of insurance.

California Department of Motor Vehicles spokesman William Madison says its most recent study shows that more than 23% of the state’s drivers aren’t carrying any auto insurance.

Says Madison: “They can’t afford it, so they just drive anyway and take their chances.”

Jerry Hicks’ column appears Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday. Readers may reach Hicks by call-ing the Times Orange County Edition at (714) 966-7823 or by fax to (714) 966-7711, or e-mail to jerry.hicks@latimes.com