Troubled by feelings about the police

When photographer Rick Eaton passed along a photo of Chula Vista police subduing a man outside the El Primero in April, I felt a sense of relief mixed with a smidge of joy and a pinch of pride. Followed by a tablespoon of consternation.

The suspect, Garry Romero, was reportedly armed and had holed himself up in the hotel lobby for hours before he tried to make a dash for freedom. Police, who had been trying to persuade Romero to exit peacefully, ultimately unleashed a K-9 to bring him down.

No bullets were fired. No lives were lost. Everyone lived and now they can one day tell the story of “that one time when…”

The event and its outcome occured just days after video of a South Carolina police officer shooting and killing an unarmed and fleeing man in the back made its way across the country via television and Internet.

The two incidents are not related but they are the same in that there were two fleeing suspects and cops with guns.
But one man — the unarmed Charleston one named Michael Slager — is dead. The other is not, thanks to the local police.

The Third Avenue incident could have ended drastically different. There could have been bullets and blood and death.

But there wasn’t. Was it the training, policy and personnel rather than luck and fate that kept Romero and officers alive that night? I’d like to — I have to — think so.

But that feeling of relief nagged and left me unsettled. Why would I expect anything other than professionalism and good conduct from the men and women who patrol the streets and enforce the laws? Chula Vista police took a man into custody and no one was killed or beaten senseless. Why would I assume anything less?

Former columnist and ex-cop Tom Basinski described cops with a bad attitude and judgment clouded by questionable morality as badge heavy cops who’d throw their weight around and abuse their power because they could. I’ve experienced and read and seen those cops in action. To this day they are among us. I do not know if they will ever go away.

But I’d like to believe — I have to — they are the exception and not the rule.

Day in and day out there are encounters between police and civilians that end without much incident: a warning, a ticket, an uneventful arrest, maybe a sarcastic remark.

That I should feel relieved the Romero affair ended the way it did seems unwarranted. That night, as in most others, the cops were just doing their job. Nothing more. Nothing less.

Yet the actions of a few badge-heavy cops near and far has removed the rose tint from the sunglasses I wore long ago. It has left me irreversably disappointed.

But at the same time, the actions of the good ones have left me eternally hopeful.