The time I rode around with APD

A few weeks ago I had the chance to spend my Saturday night riding around with an officer of the Austin Police Department. It was honestly one of the most fun things I've done in ages. The officer was super open and friendly so I ended up getting a TON of audio which I'm currently editing.

Below is the story of the time I rode around with the APD:

It’s 3 AM and Officer Adam Krueger is exhausted. He has just pulled into the gated parking lot of the Clinton Hunter Police Station, a substation in Southeast Austin after an almost 10 hour shift. In the last 45-minutes alone he has dealt with drunks, people fighting who were drunk and a middle-aged man who was so drunk he needed to call his mom to come pick him up. He is yawning and as he moves his gear from his patrol car into his personal pick up truck, another officer pulls up next to him and blows his siren. Everyone jumps and is still for a moment before the laughter starts. They’ve made it through another night.

“Some of the officers I work with are the best people I know,” says Officer Krueger. He has just finished briefing his back up officer who was called in to help with a domestic disturbance. A maintenance worker at a Southeast Austin apartment complex got into an argument with one his residents. The resident -a Texas A&M fan- was offended when the maintenance worker threw up the University of Texas at Austin hook ‘em horns hand sign. Both officers work the area known as Frank-2, the area bordered by Ben White, 1-35, South Congress and William Canon. It is a mostly Hispanic area and the language barrier often leads to frustration and confusion among the non-Spanish speaking officers, Officer Krueger included.

At 25, Officer Krueger does not fit the seasoned, beer-bellied stereotype typically conjured when one thinks of a police officer. He is a tall, muscular and imposing figure juxtaposed with a baby-face typical of someone much younger. “I hate that stereotype… that we’re all overweight or we don’t take care of ourselves.”

*****

Brent has just been pulled over for jaywalking. Before he spots Brent illegally crossing against the light at the corner of Pleasant Valley and William Cannon, Officer Krueger explains that because of an increase in accidents involving pedestrians this year, there has been a push on behalf of the Austin Police Department to crack down on illegal street crossing. He is quick to follow up saying, “But it’s not a quota. We don’t have quotas.”

At 30, Brent looks like young Ricky Schroeder. He hands his license over and Officer Krueger takes it back to his car. In a matter of moments, all known information about Brent is blinking across the screen, including an old mug shot where he has shoulder length hair. The picture of the young boy staring back from the screen looks nothing like the man sitting in front of the police cruiser, visibly nervous and chain smoking cigarettes. Officer Krueger finishes writing a summons and walks over to the sidewalk. Brent puts out his cigarette and stands up ready to make one last argument. His attempt is brief and ends with Brent taking the ticket saying, “I understand. I’m not trying to make your job any harder.” Just then another man walks across the same intersection, Brent points and shouts, “Look! Go get him!” The two men smile and Officer Krueger gets back into the car. As Brent walks off, Officer Krueger muses, “Of course it’s going to make (him) upset. But, so does everything else we do.”

Most of what Officer Krueger does is mediate. He mediates between neighbors and gang members, between relatives and strangers, between deer and I-35. The truth is that the police are the net through which so much falls through. For a young officer like Kruger, who has not even finished his second year on the force, it is still a balancing act. Halfway through the night, he responds to a noise complaint call in Southeast Austin. It is a new apartment complex and the noise is coming from a long hallway filled with revelers. “Break it up,” Officer Krueger shouts to the college-aged kids and young 20-somethings holding red Dixie cups. With an officer as imposing and tall as Krueger, the partygoers waste little time dispersing. He knocks on the door of the apartment “Whose apartment is this?” he demands. Another partygoer sticks his head out.

“You gotta shut it down for the night. Everybody.” says the officer.

“Yeah?” asks the man in the door.

“Yeah,” Officer Krueger nods.

“Kick everybody out?” the man presses.

“If I…” Officer Krueger relents, “Y’all can stay here as long as it’s quiet."

“I’m so sorry,” another young man interjects. He has just emerged from the apartment. He’s glassy-eyed and introduces himself as Erwin. He apologizes and explains that it’s his 23^rd birthday party. “I’m really sorry about this,” he apologizes again. The officer takes down his information and walks back out to the car.

Like most people his age, Officer Krueger still has a lot of living to do. He is not married, doesn't have children, he has lived in Texas his whole life and he has yet to complete the Masters degree he abandoned halfway through to join the academy. In the middle of the sirens and handcuffs and police badges, it is easy to forget that Officer Krueger was Erwin’s age just two years ago. Back in the car, Officer Krueger reflects on Erwin’s birthday party. “You know, I’ve been on the other side of that before.” He then continues, “But I had common sense.”