The Path of "Captain College Boy"

One of the principles that guided my career journey throughout my 43-year tenure in policing was to strive for excellence. This ethos, driving force, perspective, and life philosophy, if you will, was pivotal to my success. Even when faced with challenges, this principle was ever-present.

I graduated at the top of my recruit class at the academy, which allowed me to select my assignment. I opted for the busiest district. That district was severely understaffed, so many from my recruit class were assigned there as well. On my first tour of duty, all of my newly assigned colleagues were set up with a field training officer, except for me. The administrative lieutenant at that district simply went down the alphabetical list of incoming rookies and, finding there were not enough field training officers, left me out because my last name starts with an 'S'. I was passed around to various veteran officers, but there was no consistency.

In 1973, when I took the oath, it was very uncommon for a college graduate to enter police work. I was one of only 100 in a force of nearly 5,000 with a degree. Then I met my sergeant—grizzled, salty, and less than enlightened. Our first encounter began with him asking, "What are you doing here, college boy?" I didn't see a problem, but I am confident he did. I never did figure out why he was so disturbed by my higher education. After being certified to patrol alone, I was often assigned a foot beat by myself in what I would call very "sporty" areas. At that time, there were no portable radios, so all communication was done through police call boxes when on foot patrol. Within a few months of being certified, portable radios became available—the Motorola PR-25s, the size and weight of a brick, but they could only receive transmissions, not transmit.

Returning to my principle of striving for excellence, I pursued excellence in all endeavors with unwavering determination. No matter the job, duty, or assignment, I always did my best. My ear was always attuned to that radio speaker, and it served me well. I was often the first officer on the scene of major fires or vehicle accidents to direct traffic, made arrests from flash lookouts that were broadcast, and handled assignments given to scout cars that were on my foot beat. Assignments were never given to foot beat officers over the radio because they could not acknowledge; the portable radios could only receive and not transmit.

It seems my efforts did not go unnoticed. When a scout car responded to a radio assignment that I too had heard, went to, and was handling, they would advise the dispatcher that they were clear, "handled by the foot beat officer." Sergeants would respond to scenes and find me there, midnight tour, in the rain, blowing snow, with an arrest from a lookout; I was out there always doing my best. It was not until I made rank that I found out supervisors talk a lot about subordinates behind closed doors. It seems there was some positive chatter concerning my performance of duty.

Eighteen months in, an investigator position in the police district I worked in came open. One of the finest sergeants I worked with talked to me and encouraged me to apply for that position. I did, received outstanding recommendations, and was made an investigator. This was my first stepping stone. Eighteen months later, three years on the department, I was promoted to detective. Onward and upward followed, as my pursuit of excellence always served me well.

I share this story to demonstrate that challenges, bad bosses, and sometimes little support can all be overcome if one always does their very best in the performance of their duty.

P.S. – Fourteen years later, I was promoted to captain and returned to the police district where I started out from the police academy. Guess who was now under my charge? Yes, that grizzled, salty sergeant who had a problem with my higher education. I was welcomed by the sergeant with, "Good to have you back, Captain Swope." I said to Sergeant Hocket, "You can call me Captain College Boy," smiled, and walked away. We worked well together, but he never did call me Captain College Boy – strange, I told him he could.

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