William Bratton is taking over the helm of the NYPD, what should be his top priority?
The lesson of the Baltimore exercise is quite clear: police agencies can't just arbitrarily decide that their jurisdictions end at the water's edge and assume that anything on the water will be handled by the Coast Guard, the Navy, or somebody else.
“Making a chance,” simply means you must create an opportunity to either control your opponent or to escape his or her attack.
Of course, you don't have to work the late shift or even work the streets for a cop's lifestyle and eating habits to add up to obesity, high blood pressure, and other coronary risk factors.
Two students were killed, 13 injured. But it could have been much worse if Clark had not been on the scene and armed.
Today's pocket knives have been transformed from the large Buck Lockblade and the Schrade Old Timer to the ultra-modern streamlined clip-it folders you see in every duty gear catalog and supply house.
It got to the point where I had memorized a short speech in which I slowly explained to the confused citizen that the police officer's job was basically finding someone to arrest, arresting them, and then taking them to jail.
As I boarded a flight home from meeting with members of Congress, security was tight and new alerts were announced. I considered again that despite 15 years on the job and being in the virtual ground zero for new terrorist threats, I was unarmed, unable to respond to a threat because out-of-town officers are not trusted to carry guns in the nation's capital.
While police pursuits are a necessary part of police work and should not be banned, officers should be aware of the potential danger and terminate pursuits when the risk of injury outweighs the benefit of catching the suspect.
It looked like the metal was finished virtually flawlessly, and these weren't castings but forgings, milled to final form. Impressive.
“Bang, bang, Daddy,” the little voice says, with a wide smile on his face. His fingers aren’t long enough to reach the trigger, but your gut wrenches into your throat, as you duck, reach out for the gun, and softly say, “No, son, put it down.”