Tuesday, 6 January 2010, 13:20.
The radio in patrol unit #16 crackles to life. “Attack in progress … vacant lot at Laurel Canyon and Roscoe … three Hispanic male suspects and one 13-year-old female … PR: unknown male Hispanic, possibly under the influence ....”
“16L170 responding.”
Only minutes before, Sgt. Sherri Egan and I had climbed into her Supervisor’s car (no cage and very clean) at the LAPD Foothill Station. She’d attached her GPS to the windshield (each officer has his own), powered up the mounted laptop and keyed herself in. We’d just dipped out of the driveway and onto Osborne when the call came in.
“Hold on!” she warns and whips a right onto San Fernando Road, accelerating quickly.
Acutely aware of her surroundings as we rush south, Egan adjusts the GPS, listens to incoming calls, watches words appearing on the laptop screen, and clues me in. “Attack in progress is generally a rape,” she says then nods at the screen, “When a 911 call comes in, the operator types the info – address, what it is, person reporting, any comments – and relays it to the units.”
We swing right at Sheldon; then left onto Laurel Canyon. We are not “Code 3” (lights & siren), but vehicles defer to us.
In the flood of radio transmissions I note her call number. “The unit is #16; the L means I’m alone, the 170 means I’m a Supervisor.”
She nods upward and I see an air unit circling as we approach the intersection. Black & Whites come together from three directions and slow to prowl speed. Officers scope the area. A siren wails in the distance. Regular traffic slows and watches the “action.”
We reverse direction, inch along, peer into shaded areas... nothing suspicious.
Another location comes on the screen and over the radio, “Underpass at Tuxford and the Five Freeway … homeless encampment … metal roof ….”
We join the units speeding east. At Lankershim and Roscoe, Sgt. Egan glances at the car on our right. A man has a laptop open against his steering wheel and is typing. “Look at that!” she cries, rolling down the window. “Sir! Put the laptop down!” she commands.
Units converge and cruise the underpass intersection. Egan peers up the brush covered slope and spots a metal lean-to.
“Air-10, fly over the area,” she requests into radio.
“Roger, I had to move south due to airport traffic. Returning now.”
Another unit pulls alongside, facing the opposite direction. Egan tells the officer to drive up the onramp. “Okay, Sergeant,” he replies and hits the throttle.
No one finds activity. The operator reports the PR is not cooperating. It's a “non-valid” call and we get a “Code 4” (situation resolved).
*
Cruising back along San Fernando Road, Sgt. Egan points out a nondescript woman by an indoor Swap Meet. “She’s working."
“How do you know” I ask, amazed.
“Experience and expertise. You know what to look for … the neighborhood, someone strolling a busy road, acting evasively.” I glance back at the woman who eyes us over her shoulder. “This area between Sheldon and Lankershim is heavily into prostitution. Many are from downtown where they’re really cracking down.”
When I ask if it’s worth it to travel this far. She laughs again. “Used to be, the girls would go on the street to support kids or a drug habit. Now it’s a business. They can make $400-$600 per day at $60 a pop…cash.”
I wonder about the clientele. “You’d be surprised.” She relates an instance from her days working Vice. An 80-year-old on a scooter propositioned her while she waited in “housewife” clothes at a bus stop, going so far as to grope her. “He took me to trial. They really grilled me on that one, but I had my officers as witnesses.”
Another story confirms that prostitution is not a “victimless” crime. A man drove up and asked her to get in his car. In the back was a kid in a car seat. She arrested him, and of course called Child Services. “You can’t tell me his wife and kid weren’t victims.”
As we leave the area, Egan indicates a car going by. The woman we’d seen earlier is inside with a lone male driver.
*
All’s quiet in Sunland-Tujunga after an earlier attempted burglary on Commerce Street. “The main problems on “The Rock” are narcotics and theft-from-autos or homes. “Tweekies” (meth-heads) steal small items to pawn.”
About the known pot dispensaries she says, “There’s so much confusion about them downtown that we only look for violations."
“The Rock has changed a lot – ethnically – in the last 30 years. People accuse us of racial profiling, but if the area is predominantly one race, how can you NOT arrest violators of that ethnicity? They get that all the time in South-Central with African Americans.”
We decide on El Pollo Loco for “lunch.” After ordering, Sgt. Egan excuses herself to “wash up.” A long while later, she reappears. “That’s ONE advantage male cops have.” She then describes the necessary steps to remove her “kit belt,” with the 10-15 pounds of equipment attached. My eyes widen. “If there’s a hook, I hang it up. If not, I hold on to it. No way my stuff's going on the floor!”
She chooses a corner booth. Munching chicken, we chat about autopsies, Kevlar vests, her favorite “conspiracy” movies (DaVinci Code, National Treasure) and books (about rogue cops). Her radio crackles a few times, but nothing serious. Still quiet on "The Rock."
*
I'd arrived at Foothill Station earlier that morning and was greeted by Capt. Ivan Minsal. With The Foothills Paper paving the way, I’d already received clearance from Press Relations to interview, tour the station, and go on a ride-along. I had only to sign the liability waiver.
Foothill Station is one of the oldest in the Valley, completed in 1961. It covers Pacoima, Sun Valley, Lake View Terrace, La Tuna, and Sunland-Tujunga. There are currently 244 police personnel (administrative, investigative and patrol) on three shifts. Overall, about 17% are female, with the majority as detectives. (Of the 134 patrol officers, 11 are female.)
I was introduced to Supervising Sergeant Sherri Egan, a fit and trim, 41-year-old, eighteen-year-veteran of the LAPD, who would be my guide and “informant.” She's a mom, married to a motorcycle cop on “deuce” watch (6pm – 3am) in South-Central. (The majority of female officers have spouses in law enforcement.)
Fifteen months ago Egan was “willed” to Foothill (from Van Nuys) as their first female supervisor. She came “kicking and screaming” (knowing Foothill’s reputation for being hard on women) but she found very little bias. In fact, some of those “crusty, Old School boys” are her trusted mentors now.
It wasn’t always good for women in the LAPD. Twenty-five years ago, the "Old School" Para-military tradition ruled. “There's still some residual resentment,” she admits. “We have to work twice as hard for half the respect. But there are women drill and shooting instructors at the Academy now.”
What about a female officer’s ability to backup her partner – to kill if necessary? Are men less confident about female partners? “No, we get the same training,” she answers. “Show me a situation where a woman failed, and I’ll show you one where a man failed. It’s not a gender issue.”
What about differences in physical strength? “There are 'tough broads' who could beat the daylights out of some guys in the department!" she chuckles. "But we recognize our limitations and work smarter … mentally, tactically. I use my wits, my voice. It’s easy to say “gender” but it really depends on the person.”
Regardless, Sgt Egan loves her job. "I couldn't NOT be a cop. It's who I am. Besides," she grins, "we get great pay and have great health insurance."
What about that pay? ($100K annually for a Supervisor-Sergeant; more for a motorcycle cop with "hazard pay") “We don’t get paid for what we do; we get paid for what we might have to do…the ultimate sacrifice”
