A Dark Day in Pittsburgh

By Annette Dashofy


It’s been a very dark week in Pittsburgh. On Saturday morning, those of us who thought we were part of a relatively safe city learned there is no such thing.

In case you somehow managed to miss the news, three Pittsburgh Police officers were gunned down in the quiet neighborhood of Stanton Heights while responding to a domestic dispute call. The gunman, aware that his mother had phoned the police, armed himself with an AK-47, a long rifle, and a handgun and opened fire as the officers entered the house. A third officer who lived nearby and was returning home from his shift, came to their aid and was also shot and killed.

I don’t live in the city, but I spend a lot of time there. Since taking the Citizens’ Police Academy, I have felt a strong bond with the Pittsburgh Police. When I watched the news on Saturday, I felt sick. Heartbroken.

There have been mixed reports on one detail that struck a nerve and put me into a cold sweat. When the mother called 911 to ask the police to come to home and remove her son, the dispatcher asked her if there were guns in the house. At first, the report was she responded there were not. A later conflicting report stated that she did say her son had weapons inside. Either way, there’s some doubt as to whether the responding officers knew.

The day I went on my ride-along, one of our calls was for a domestic dispute. The mother wanted the officer to talk to her son and ask him to leave. The officer I was with asked her if there were weapons in the house.

She said there were not.

At the time, a little voice (call it fear, call it self-preservation) in my head wondered whether she should be believed. Would a mother, even one who was afraid of her son and wanted him gone, admit that he had guns?

So, I was there, entering an apartment right behind a Pittsburgh Police officer during a mother/son domestic dispute. Thankfully, in our case, the end results were much more peaceful.

But these brave men and women never know what they’re going to face. Times are tough. People are losing their jobs. Stress is at an all time high. All across the country, madness ensues.

Getting back to Pittsburgh…

We’ve never ever lost three officers in one day before. This is all horribly new to us. Many of us want to do something to show our support and our grief. Memorials have been set up and continue to grow at Police Headquarters, at the Zone 5 station, and even in front of that house in Stanton Heights. However a lot of us are at a loss as to what we can do.

On Monday, I received a phone call asking if I would be free to volunteer to help with color coding cars for the families for the memorial service tomorrow. As a Citizens’ Police Academy Alumni, I can do something that a police officer might ordinarily be doing, freeing that officer so he can attend the services of his fallen comrades. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so honored. Or humbled. It’s a miniscule thing, this offering of my time for a few hours, but it lets me feel that I’m contributing in some small way.

I don’t think any of my fellow CPA grads expected to be called into duty in quite this way. I hope we never have to do it again.

My thoughts and prayers go out to the family and friends of Officers Paul Sciullo III, Stephen Mayhle, and Eric Kelly. And to all the men and women in blue across this nation, who put their lives in harm’s way each and every day. You are all heroes.

Along for the Ride

Part 2

by Annette Dashofy

Let me begin this second installment by mentioning one of the cool things I learned. The police vehicles’ unit numbers have meaning. For instance, we were unit 3125. The “3” stand for police. The fire department would have a different number. The “1” was for Zone 1. Oddly, cars with the “2” as the next number indicate a single officer on patrol. Cars with a “1” such as 3111, indicates two officers in the vehicle.

After the burglary in progress, the next call was for a domestic dispute in one of the public housing units. A mother reported her 20 year old on was out of control. I was permitted to participate in this one, provided the mother agreed. She did. After talking with her outside and getting her story, we entered the apartment, asking her to stay outside. Divide and conquer.

The young man had his own version of the events. He strutted and gestured and felt he was right and didn’t understand why the cops had been called in. I kept quiet and just nodded when he directed his extremely sincere diatribe in my direction. Officer Parker calmly asked questions and explained the legalities of the matter and the choices to be made. In the end, nothing was really resolved, but the volatile situation had been cooled. Mother and son made promises to each other. In the car, Officer Parker said he’d most likely be back. None of the promised changes would be made. But for the moment, peace had been restored.

It renewed my earlier insight about psychology classes. I’ve come to believe that police work is less about law or solving mysteries than it is about psychology. Uniformed therapists on wheels.

We were about to begin a circuit of Riverview Park (I did not know of this place when I named the main location of my first mystery novel Riverview Park!) when our third call came in. Report of shots fired. The address was in a less-than-safe neighborhood and someone had been stabbed at this same address earlier in the day. “Revenge,” commented Officer Parker. And we were off, lights and sirens again through the narrow streets of the North Hills.

Other units were on scene by the time we arrived. Officer Parker said that if someone had been shot, it would have been reported over the radio by then, so likely there was no victim. Still, I was happy to comply with his order to stay in the car. Yes, sir! No problem. A group of young men matching the description given over the air stood on a second floor deck with bored expressions on their faces. Ho hum. Cops at the front door. Just another day in paradise. I heard one officer say, “No victim, no crime.” Before long, Officer Parker was back to report that nobody saw nothin’. This is frequently the case in this neighborhood. “They don’t like us much here,” he told me.

Nice to know.

That was the end of our calls for the day. For the rest of my shift, we patrolled. I had a lovely tour of the North Side. From the luxury of the townhouses in Washington’s Landing to the poverty of the projects. Note: while the apartment we were in for the domestic dispute was tidy and clean, Officer Parker told me that often you have to keep moving in some of those places so the cockroaches don’t climb up your legs. Ick!

I have always loved the Mexican War Streets houses. Built in the days before Pittsburgh was Pittsburgh, they remind me of Williamsburg, Virginia. Many have been renovated and are simply beautiful. Next door, however, the windows may be boarded up. The entire zone is one of contrasts.

During our patrol, we talked. I was told that when you see on the news that someone has been arrested on a drunk and disorderly, they really were disorderly. Most cops prefer NOT to arrest someone if they can just get that person to go away instead. Arrests mean too much paperwork.

We discussed the current hot topic of tasers. Tasers, he said, are used a lot. The rare instance where someone dies as a result is because of other circumstances. Usually drugs. He went on to say that when batons are used to subdue an actor, there are bruises and lasting pain. With a taser, while it hurts—and be assured, it hurts like hell—as soon as the current is shut off, it’s done. Over. The suspect could get up and run away if he chose to. No lingering bruises.

I survived my ride-along. It was a fairly average day, from what I gather. Reports of shots fired used to happen mainly after dark. Now they happen any time.

Only much later did I learn about the excitement that went on shortly AFTER my shift. In case you missed seeing the video of the big car chase on Route 28, click here.

I'm still not sure if I'm relieved that my ride-along ended before this happened or if I'm bummed that I missed it.

THE LOVE OF MY LIFE

by Gina Sestak

My Sadie Hawkins Day comment here joked about wanting to use the blog to propose to my favorite actor -- it would be necessary to propose on the web, since I've never had the pleasure of meeting him in person, nor do I know of any way to get in touch with him directly. But this post is not about him.

This post is about the true love of my life -- learning.

Those of you who've been following my many posts about former jobs know that many of those jobs were part-time gigs I held while working my way through school. What you may not know is why I went to so much trouble -- working multiple jobs, selling blood plasma, being homeless. It was so I could go to school. I want you to know that I had no ambition whatsoever at the time. I wasn't thinking about a degree or a career. I was living my ideal life -- a life in which I could go from class to class and book to book, finding out all kinds of fascinating things about all kinds of fascinating subjects, solely for the joy of learning.

I am happy to report that I've once again assumed that way of life, albeit in a limited way. I'm participating in a 15-week Citizen Police Academy through the Pittsburgh Bureau of Police and, since I'm over 55 and semi-retired, I am eligible to take classes through the Osher Life Learning Institute at the University of Pittsburgh. Due to my present three-day-a-week job, I cannot audit any of the undergraduate courses Osher offers, but I've been able to take a hands-on class at the Pittsburgh Glass Center (in which I made a disappointingly ugly square thing) and a film class, in which we watch movies and talk about them -- none, alas, featuring that favorite actor. In a few weeks, I'll be learning to recognize birds.

OK. That's what I love. Now, fess up. What do you love?