Ten Feet Tall

Thoughts From Dr. Joe by Dr. Joe Puglia

When I first came to this town I heard he was nine feet tall; and with piercing eyes, he’d see right through you.

There was no place hide, and wherever you’d go there he would be - looming, waiting for you. It was said that he was omnipresent. “Who was this guy?” I became intrigued, fascinated, and a bit perplexed as to this larger-than-life icon.

I had to meet “Officer Smith” and find out what made him tick. I got my chance. About three years ago I was rolling up Angeles Crest. It was raining cats and dogs. My old truck ‘konks’ out right in the middle of the road. Deader than a doornail she was. Suddenly some flashing lights in my rear view. Ahhhh! The cavalry, I thought.

A police officer steps out into the torrents of rain, wearing a yellow coat. “You okay?” he says, “Give ‘er another try! Sounds like you flooded it!”

Meanwhile, as he redirects traffic around me, he’s getting wetter than a duck. “Try ‘er again!” Boom, she starts, just like a racehorse.

I tried my ‘darnest’ to get his name. The rain made it hard to focus. But there, plain as day, I read his badge. It was Officer Smith! “Holy cow,” I thought! And, as I drove away, I emphatically said to myself, “That was Officer Smith!” And as I reached Green Lane, I said even more emphatically, “Officer Smith. Un-dog-gone believable!”

He wasn’t nine feet tall at all! In my eyes, he was 10 feet tall for helping a stranger.

We often separate ourselves from police officers painting stereotypes on those most zealous. We refer to them as calculating, cold, and heartless. We keep our distance, depersonalizing them and creating scenarios depicting a “we/they” philosophy. Are we overly critical when they diligently do their job - especially when their job is a result of our actions?

Police work is thankless; it’s emotional labor. Its focus centers upon that which is most vile in us. In times of danger and stress we implore them. But often, when the danger is passed, we ignore them. Well I’m here to set things straight and to tell you that there’s a side to “Officer Smith” that is a reflection of the best in us.

Did you know that he is fluent in French and was a lieutenant colonel in the Army? Here’s one for ya: Officer Smith was a missionary for the Church of Jesus Christ Latter-day Saints and has been married for 30 years. He’s got 12 children. He has a master’s degree in public administration and has been a deputy sheriff for almost 18 years.

“Work is a privilege; and for me it’s duty and service,” he says. Here is man who defines himself by conscientious endeavor. In one of our communiqués he quotes Douglas Mc Arthur’s “Duty-Honor-Country.” It is obvious that these ideals are pivotal in the development of his character.

I’ve heard residents say that he issues too many citations, but La Cañada puts traffic safety as its number one concern. He doesn’t enforce the law because he enjoys giving tickets. His attention to duty is driven by a correlation which shows that issuing citations decreases accidents. Thus, his vigilance has protected our children and has preserved life. Officer Smith is motivated by a sense of altruism to protect this community. And, on his watch, he will do just that.

I chose to write about Officer Smith because he is a conspicuous personality. However, his professionalism often skews rational perspective. Here’s one for you: I once overheard a parent tell a cantankerous child, “If you don’t behave, I’m going to call Officer Smith.”

Writing about Jim Smith is symbolic. He represents the majority of outstanding police officers who are called to do a tough job. He is merely a conduit toward understanding their essence. Thus, these words are meant for the countless faces who wear the badge, putting their life on the line, asking very little in return.

Let me get back to that rainy night three years ago. I made it home dry as toast, but I knew that Officer Smith didn’t fare as well. I realized that my original hunch was right?he’s a decent guy, just doing a tough job. The puzzle was still not complete. The missing piece is you. I would have to write this to let you know that there’s a real person behind every face. When you understand this, the puzzle is complete.