by Suzie Ivy
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; I 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, our defensive tactics instructor punched a fellow cadet in the eye 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’d 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’d 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 Officers’ names much less their spouses’ names. The Chief and Sergeant’s wives were great. They were excited to finally be getting a female at the department. The officers stayed 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 wor
king 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 affect 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.
These were young guys, mind you, most in their twenties, and it didn’t take long before the probes were going under clothing on unmentionable body parts. We were laughing so hard we were crying. We called it the electric erection. We were like a bunch of kids, good friends and family. For that short amount of time, I felt like a kid again and not old enough to be these mens’ mother.
On another one of these evenings, my friend Veronica drove down to check out the academy. She brought along Betty, another one of my good friends. They were able to eat dinner in the cafeteria with me and I showed them around campus. After dinner they asked if I could go out to a bar. I told them I would have needed to get written permission several days in advance. We walked around the campus for a while and I finally said, to hell with it. If Sgt. Spears from my future department could sneak up to the tower and get drunk, I could sneak off campus.
We made a break for it and ended up at the bar inside Chili’s Restaurant. Betty was our designated driver so Veronica and I tied one on. I’m not sure how many pitchers of margaritas we had but I could barely walk by the time we left.
I stumbled into my dorm room at 0100 hours. I was up at 0445 hours, or at least that’s when the alarm went off. I struggled to get out of bed and somehow managed to get myself to physical training. My head was spinning uncontrollably. I showered fast, brushed my teeth and shoved gum into my mouth (also against the rules). My stomach was turning and I was thinking a night of disobeying orders was not the best of ideas.
After warming up, I ran to the bathroom and puked my guts up which helped. I then went back out and struggled through a six-mile run and weight training. Thank god no one smelled alcohol on my breath. I know it was a lot to risk, but I needed to cross the line. I had done everything asked of me, and this act of rebellion felt great, although my stomach and head didn’t. I will always love Veronica for bringing out my wild side and helping me break the rules. I had earned this small break in routine.
I waited all day for Sgt. Dickens to mention I was seen leaving campus but it never happened. The week ended and there were only two weeks to go. The following week would be the hardest we had yet to face. Sitting in my classroom on Friday, I looked around at all these hopeful young men. I couldn’t imagine one of them failing at this late date. I was thinking the same of myself.
We had all come so far and everything we had learned was coming together. This had been the longest sixteen weeks of my life. Two more to go and I did not plan on letting anything stop me.
Chapter 21
Failure Is Not An Option
After what seemed like a short weekend, Monday came around. It was the day of our last weekly test. I had studied hard and did well. We all passed. The rest of the day was spent in the classroom reviewing for the final exam, which would take place the following Monday.
Tuesday was our Defensive Tactics final. We had to know the names of all the major pressure points and major nerves on the body. We had to demonstrate proper take down procedure as well as handcuffing techniques. We all passed this test, as well.
Stop and approach scenarios would begin on Wednesday. As they did last time, all the volunteers arrived the evening before. We had been hearing horror stories of what we would undergo in these final practical tests. We were told the staff and volunteers had taken it easy on us during the first set of scenarios. Stop and approach was do or die and would take every bit of knowledge we possessed to pass.
Sgt. Dickens told the class he already knew two cadets would not be passing because they didn’t have what it took to be officers. I knew I was one of those cadets. I just didn’t know who the other person was. I felt he had made up a second person because he could not just point me out.
Wednesday finally came and the tests began. My first test involved a man caught shoplifting at a convenience store. He was in a “red man” suit, which caused my heart to speed up even more. A red man suit is a padded, head to toe covering, used in demonstration exercises. The suit is always red. It has a face guard as well as foot guards. It can take a lot of punishment but the person wearing it can give it back as well.
The suspect was sitting in a chair and holding a medium sized box. The instructor pretended to be the store manager and said the gentleman was caught walking out of the store with the contraband. I walked over and asked the man if I could see his identification. He started yelling and threw the box at me. I pulled out my baton and told him to turn around and place his hands behind his back, he was under arrest. He complied and I handcuffed him. The scenario was ended.
These type scenarios were used to be sure we did not use excessive force when it was not necessary. The suspect was in the red man suit to increase our anticipation of violence. I passed and moved on to my next test.
I was sent to the campus gym. We had to wait outside and again we were able to partner up. A young
cadet went in with me. It was pitch black inside and we turned on our flashlights. Mats had been used to section off areas and we faced blind spots at every turn. We then heard a scream.
We kept our cool and continued slowly towards the screams. Our first suspect came at us on the last turn. My partner took him down as I watched our backs and kept an eye on a female crouched against a wall screaming. After the first guy was secure, I walked towards the female telling her who I was. A second man came around the corner and was on me before I could blink. I hit him in the head with my blue gun, which was in my hand (it had to have hurt). I then placed him in handcuffs. The scenario was ended. Again, I passed.
After my lunch break, I went to my third test of the day. It was a vehicle speeding away after the occupants inside the vehicle had robbed a bank. I performed a “high risk vehicle stop.” This is a training we spend days perfecting. It’s done the same throughout the country and saves officer’s lives.
The driver of the vehicle jumped out and began running up a hillside beside where his vehicle was stopped. He was firing a SIMs weapon at me as he ran. I returned fire but kept an eye on the others remaining in the vehicle. I radioed back to dispatch and told them one of the occupants had taken off running to the north and he was armed with a gun. I then sat in the “V” of my car door’s front seat. I watched the vehicle occupants as well as the hills where my other suspect had run. The scenario ended. I was told I did a great job.
My adrenalin was sky high. It’s true: police officers are adrenalin junkies. I didn’t understand until I went to the academy. It was like no other feeling on earth. I was flying.
Next I headed to the dorms and underwent domestic violence scenarios. I spoke with fellow cadets while we waited. Not everyone was doing as well as I.
The Class 96 Sergeant was talking to some fellow instructors as I walked up. I didn’t know her well and I was surprised when she asked me to walk a short ways away from everyone and talk to her. I replied, “Yes mam,” and followed her.