Bad Luck Cadet (11 page)

Later at morning’s inspection, Sgt. Dickens
told us to march back to our rooms and put on the white shirts and
ties we wore when we first came to the academy. We did as told and
returned to the inspection deck. We were then told we were not a
team and we would walk everywhere through campus holding hands
until we were a team. It was never explained what our infraction
was and we didn't ask. We had learned early on that a reason didn't
matter. It always seemed to depend on the Sergeant’s
mood.

On lunch break, we made our first walk to the
cafeteria holding hands, all twenty-six of us. It was embarrassing
but comical as well. I was the most popular person in the class.
Every guy wanted to hold my hand. I switched places over the next
two days during every formation march. The college students got a
big kick out of us. We were kind of like the ROTC and it was fun to
reticule us.

I was finally getting a true sense of how
incredible my classmates were. It was fun to be fought over during
our marches but I was also feeling they wanted me to make it to
graduation. I’m not sure when the entire class transformation began
but they let me know they were behind me. I might not have been the
ideal cadet but I had become one of them and we took care of each
other.

As the week progressed I began getting a bad
head and chest cold. I was having trouble breathing during any
physical activities we were assigned. I wasn’t the only cadet
suffering but it was slowing me down physically, which I didn’t
need.

Sgt. Dickens again showed up at morning
physical training and took over our instruction. He told us we were
to run around the track and every cadet was to finish within two
minutes, or we would start again until we all accomplished the
desired time.

I couldn’t do it. I tried. Every cadet would
finish and then run back to where I was and cheer me on. My lungs
were about to explode, I couldn’t catch my breath and I thought I
would die if I did not get air. We ran three laps, with me being
the only one not able to make it, within the two minute time
limit.

On the fourth lap something amazing happened.
Two cadets ran beside me, lifted me under my arms and began
carrying me. They ran about twenty yards and two more cadets took
over, and on it went until I was around the track.

I don’t know if we made it in under the
allotted time, but Sgt. Dickens told us to change back into our
uniforms before inspection and he walked away. His lesson was
cemented in our minds.

We were a team. And, while I hated being the
“weak one,” I was a part of that team and now my academy class had
proved it.

Chapter 19 Pepper Spray Me, Shoot
You

I made it through another seven days. It was
now the week of Thanksgiving. We would have a four day break from
the academy. But before that break came, Wednesday, pepper spray
day. A day I had been dreading like no other. I had hated our CS
(tear gas) training and everyone who had previously encountered
pepper spray said the pepper spray, also known as OC spray, was
much worse.

Almost daily, we were performing scenarios
enacted by our squad advisors and overseen by Sgt. Dickens. I was
becoming known as a shooter. In one scenario, I was told a fellow
officer had entered a home and was not answering his radio. I
knocked on the door and heard yelling from inside. I drew my gun
and pushed open the door. The officer (a life like dummy) was lying
on the floor and a man was standing over him and hitting the
officer in the head with a bat. I shot and killed the suspect. The
scenario was immediately ended and Sgt. Dickens began yelling
“articulate your reasons,” wanting to know why I shot.

I calmly said, “He had a bat. I did not know
if the downed officer was dead but he was obviously unconscious. I
shot the suspect because I was the only chance the officer had to
survive. The suspect had already taken down one officer, and was
armed and dangerous.”

Although said grudgingly, Sgt. Dickens
replied, “Good job.”

We were always yelled at when we had to defend
our decisions. It was part of thinking under stressful conditions.
The words “articulate your reasons” were used throughout my academy
experience. I learned to articulate very well.

For some reason, I was always justified in my
“Kills.” I would explain my reasoning and pass each time. Other
cadets would not shoot so fast. Some would even fail the scenario
because of this.

During one of these scenarios, a fellow cadet
was punched in the eye by our defensive tactics instructor and then
when he didn’t lift his hands to defend his face he was punched in
the other eye. I don’t mean soft taps here. The cadet had two black
eyes for days after the incident. I was not punched because I shot
the bad guy (our defensive tactics instructor) and then defended my
decision correctly.

These incidents only seemed to piss my
Sergeant off more. I wasn’t sure why but my fellow cadets laughed
because I passed all the scenarios by shooting.

Rocco and I continued to work on POPAT
together. I had no doubt he would pass the next testing and his
confidence was at its highest point. He had lost over fifty pounds
and was kicking my butt in all the physical activities we
did.

During these last weeks at the academy things
began to get lighter when it came to inspection and penalties for
unknown infractions. I no longer had that feeling of dread in my
stomach when Sgt. Dickens walked up to our parade deck for morning
inspection. We would manage to get through the morning with only
twenty to thirty pushups.

I continued to miss Donna and I thought of her
often. Rocco and P-Rod became my support. I feel they gave more to
me than I could ever return. The three of us were acing our Monday
morning tests and Rocco and P-Rod excelling physically at
everything put before us. I too, was doing better, though my body
continued to fight me, and the four day break coming up would again
be one of icepacks and Ibuprofen.

Pepper spray Wednesday rolled around. We were
marched out to an area beside the track by the “red shirts.” We had
learned during our earlier academy experience with CS gas that
these men (officers) in red shirts signified pain. Yes, it was
necessary but they seemed to get great enjoyment from what they
would be bringing our way.

Pepper spray could not be put off and many
cadets had their remedies with them. Small portable battery
operated fans, bottles of baby shampoo, and so on. They had been
told by previous pepper spray survivors that these items would help
with the burning.

We were made to stand and recite our full name
and police department name and address. During this recitation we
were sprayed directly in the eyes with pepper spray. We were then
attacked and hit with a square pad held by an instructor. We had to
successfully fight the attacker off and then the instructor would
back off and grab a weapon. It could be a knife, gun or baton. We
would then need to radio our location to dispatch, tell them we
were under attack, and identify the object in the instructor’s
hand, while he threatened us. Depending on his weapon we would take
the appropriate action.

Within ten to fifteen seconds after being
sprayed our eyes were swollen shut, and burning like nothing we’d
ever felt. We had to use one hand to pull our eyelids apart just to
see, and yell the commands into our radios, all the while yelling
at our attacker to obey our commands.

My turn came and I was sprayed and then
attacked with the pad. I used my radio correctly and then I lucked
out and my attacker had a gun which I identified. I shot him. My
turn was over. I had passed, though the pain was not over. I was
led by fellow cadets blindly to a water hose and helped to point it
into my eyes to thoroughly flush them out. I was then left alone,
so the cadets could rescue the next victim. My hands and fingers
were burning where I’d touched my eyelids. The effects would last
for hours.

We were told to be careful when taking a
shower that evening and to wash our heads and faces with our bodies
standing away from the stream. This kept the pepper spray from
running down our bodies and burning everything it came in contact
with. Advisers described which body parts would be the most painful
if the pepper spray connected. I couldn’t even imagine the spray in
that particular area. We were also told to be careful washing our
clothing because the pepper spray would reactivate in the wash. I
think the worst part was the fact my skin burned for hours. Nothing
helped the burning but time. I tried the baby shampoo and even a
fan. Time was the cure.

All this torture was lifesaving preparation.
If a suspect managed to get our pepper spray away from us or had
his or her own to spray, we needed to know how it would affect us.
It was also possible when using pepper spray on a suspect, to have
the wind blow it back on us. I now knew the pepper spray was
practically incapacitating. If I had to shoot a suspect due to any
of these previous scenarios, I could articulate my reasoning due to
my experience. This would be the most painful single experience I
would have at the academy. I never wanted to be pepper sprayed
again.

Thanksgiving break at last. The police
department in Small Town, Arizona was having its annual
Thanksgiving banquet on Saturday and my husband and I were invited.
I was nervous. It would be my first time meeting most of my
department, and I worried about what they would think of
me.

With a potluck dish in hand, my husband and I
arrived and were introduced around to everyone. There was no way to
remember all the Officer’s names much less their spouse’s names.
The Chief and Sergeant’s wives were great. They were excited to
finally be getting a female at the department. The officers stay
back. Besides saying a brief hello, during introductions, they kept
to themselves. I was not deterred. I had won over my fellow cadets
at the academy and I had no doubt I could get along with the
officers I would be working with. The situation would also improve
once I was actually wearing a badge.

There would be plenty of challenges coming my
way in a department that had never before employed a female cop.
But I was looking forward to them. Now all I had to do was finish
my last three weeks at the academy.

Chapter 20 Electric Erection

The end of our time at the academy was in
sight. We could all see it and we were feeling it too. Everything
was being thrown at us at once. We were preparing for the AZ-POST
(Arizona Police Officer Standards and Training Board) exam. This
would be our final. We had to pass in order to be certified as
police officers in the state of Arizona. It covered all the
material we’d learned since entering the academy. We were hitting
the books hard.

We were also preparing for our “stop and
approach” practical tests. These are an even more grueling set of
scenarios than the ones we had in our ninth week. Then, on the
Friday morning of “stop and approach” week, we would be given our
last PO-PAT (physical) test. Our nerves were shot and we were all
tense.

Even with everything being put on our
shoulders, the environment at our dorms in the evening was relaxed.
We spent time sitting around in a large group talking about our
academy experience and singing songs. A couple of the cadets
brought guitars and we listened and joined in whenever we knew the
words.

The cadet who sat on my left in our classroom
finally opened up and told me he did not think I had a chance in
hell of making it through the academy on that first day. He had
just gotten out of the military when he was hired by his agency and
was in top shape.

He sat next to me all those weeks and was
always pleasant but he didn’t really warm up to me until those
evenings we sat around talking, laughing and singing. He was a
great guy and had a great career in front of him as a law
enforcement officer.

I also spoke quite a bit with Class Leader
Clark. I had so much admiration for him. He was the smartest guy I
had ever met. Before coming to the academy he was preparing to take
his L-SAT (Law School Admission Test). He made a last minute change
and decided to go into law enforcement. He had a wife and four
children waiting at home for him. The fate of our class rested on
his shoulders. I don’t think any other cadet could have handled it
as well as him. He had backed me since day one and I would never
forget his encouragement.

My body continued to give me problems and
during one of my chiropractor visits, I was set up with a TENS
machine to help relieve my back pain. The TENS unit gives off
electronic pulses and interrupts the pain signals going to the
brain. One evening I brought it out to our nightly group session
and we started playing with it. When turned up high it gave quite a
jolt.

We would hold hands and see how many cadets
the current would effect when we made a circle. One of our goofier
cadets started connecting the prongs to different body parts. He
would then have me turn the settings on high and see how long he
could take it. He placed a probe on either side of his foot and
ended up falling backwards over the bench he was sitting on when I
turned up the unit. We couldn’t control our laughter and it became
a contest to see who could follow in his footsteps and repeat what
he did.