The True Picture of the People Behind the Badge

The video of the June 23 LAPD incident involving officers from the Southeast Division captured a few moments of their daily work. Similar to the Rodney King arrest, these scenes are imprinting a nation’s consciousness with an image of how police officers in the area respond to a situation.

What if the viewers of the video had the chance to take a look at what’s formed my perspective on police-community interactions?

My older sisters, Alice and Betty, born and raised in South L.A., chose to stay after other family members died or left the area. When Southeast opened its doors in 1979, they showed up to volunteer and did so until their deaths. Betty, 64, passed away on Jan. 15, 2003; then Alice, 66, died in November.

A captain, then the lead officer at Southeast, was the first to make a home visit after Betty died. He was there not just to praise Betty’s valuable contributions; he took the time to explain that a retreat with the new chief was what kept him from the funeral.

More than a dozen uniformed police officers from Southeast came to Betty’s viewing at a local mortuary. The officers expressed their sympathies and shared their feelings of loss.

At Alice’s invitation, the first person to speak at Betty’s funeral after family members was a policeman with whom they had worked closely for more than 10 years. A husky 6-foot-5 man in full uniform -- including gun, mace, nightstick and other defensive tools -- stepped forward and opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was silence. Finally, what emerged was a huge sob that convulsed his body and sent tears streaming down his cheeks. I knew in that instant that he loved Betty. He reminisced about her caring manner, joked about her endless requests and said he’d miss the Klondike ice cream bars she offered when he stopped by the house.

After Betty’s passing, Alice continued with her commitments, ignoring pleas from family to relocate. She loved her home, the people in her neighborhood and her “work.” When we spoke on Nov. 16, she bubbled over with enthusiasm on the success of the volunteer-sponsored Officer Appreciation Day.

On her way home the next evening from a meeting of the volunteers, Alice suffered a heart attack, drove herself to the hospital and died the following morning. Among the items she carried in her purse was a Community Police Advisory Board identification card.

Four police officers from Southeast went to the hospital and began the process of contacting Alice’s relatives and her larger “family,” made up of neighbors, friends and those active in community organizations with her. The immediate and longer-term support from these and other Southeast officers helped ease our grieving process.

Six policemen from the station served as Alice’s pallbearers. The captain stepped forward to request that his officers move behind him. Over a dozen policemen stood facing the gathering, a powerful moment of respect for all volunteers who daily commit themselves to strengthening police-community relations.

I’ve not included rank, names, race or ethnic identity here. That’s my intention. What I want to convey is the spirit of people joining together in conscious support for one another and hope for a better tomorrow.

As a tribute to Alice and Betty, an officer wrote a poem titled, “In a Moment.” In a moment, people can step forward to volunteer to make a positive difference. In a moment, people can judge the entire station on the actions of a few.

Or, in a moment, people can widen their perspectives and see the ongoing work of dedicated civilians and police officers working together to improve the quality of life.

Leigh Henderson is a management consultant and leadership coach.