By Christie Piper
Community Editor

It was 7 a.m., and Lt. Scott Kipp, staff services commander for the Albion Department of Public Safety (ADPS), has jumped into his police SUV. He starts driving around town and checks on the local businesses to make sure everything is secure for the day. After he has checked the stores, Kipp parks on Michigan Avenue in front of Washington Gardner Middle School, watching kids crossing the street to get to school while keeping an eye on his speed radar.

A black Impala sped past the school going 35 mph in the 25 mph zone. Kipp turned on his lights, followed the car and pulled up behind it on Ingham Street. But instead of giving the 20-something driver a ticket, Kipp let him off with a warning.

Earlier that morning, during the morning briefing, Kipp and another officer were called to a house for a woman who was going into labor. They almost had to deliver the baby, but the ambulance was able to get to the house before the delivery. This is not the first time an event like this happened; a few years ago, Kipp actually had to deliver a baby when the ambulance wasn’t able to get there on time.

According to Kipp, many people have preconceived assumptions about public safety officers. But just like any other job, the career of an officer is a job, not a person’s whole life. Many ADPS officers have wives or husbands, children and a home. However, it is sometimes difficult for these people to separate their private life from their work life, especially when they see the worst things that happen in the city. Because of this, officers try to keep their personal emotions away from their work, which is sometimes hard to do.

"Everyday is different, which is the nice thing about this job," Kipp said.

But the constant surprise is not always a good thing.

"The hardest thing is that you know all the bad things and people about town," Kipp said. "At face value, everything looks okay, but officers get an inside look. We have a sense of community that no one else has. I worry about my kids playing in the yard. You become suspicious of everything. All of a sudden, you question everything."

For Ken Snyder, 12 years of being a lieutenant officer for ADPS was enough. He left the public safety department to work as director of campus safety, where he has been for eight years.

"Mostly, I was tired of the work," Snyder said. "I like working at the college. It felt more meaningful working here, working for an educational purpose. I didn’t always feel like that while I was working as a cop.

"Law enforcement can be tough. It can be exhausting. The best thing [about the job] is that you just never know what will happen, but it can be kind of a hassle."

Despite some negatives of working for a police department, some officers are happy with their current position.

"I’m truly honored to work in Albion," said Eric Miller, chief of police. "I enjoy the community [and] raised a family here. I’m lucky to be given the opportunity that I have."

As a detective, Kipp has come to know who most of the drug dealers in town are. According to Kipp, there are so many dealers in town that ADPS could conduct at least one drug raid a week, which is when ADPS sends a non-officer to buy drugs for them. But because of cost and safety, raids don’t happen regularly.

An average drug raid costs about $300, and in order to charge a dealer, ADPS needs to provide proof to the courts by raiding the house three times. Each time a raid is performed, it is dangerous for the non-officer. This is why the raids are sporadic—to protect everyone involved, according to Kipp.

"We spread [the raids] out, so we can catch them, but [drug dealing] never going to stop," Kipp said, while pointing out a known drug dealer’s house.

ADPS officers will pull over drivers if they forgot to use their blinker or caused some other minor infraction. This is how officers catch other criminals because, many times, when one thing is wrong, there are usually other things wrong, as well, according to Kipp.

"By profiling, we get a sense of who is a criminal," Kipp said. "[Profiling] is not such a bad thing. Our crack heads drive junky cars [and] have no money. We’re looking for something other than a traffic ticket. We’ll look for little things—rolling stop, license plate light, burnt out headlights, and broken windshields.

"If you drive normal, act normal and don’t draw attention to yourself, the police won’t bother you."

However, some students think otherwise.

"I was driving home from McDonalds at two in the morning and got pulled over for not using my turn signal, even though I was pretty sure that I had used it," said Amber Hughson, Berkeley junior. "Regardless, I’m pretty sure the officer was trying to catch me drinking and driving, but I was completely sober and they immediately left after talking to me. I thought this was an interesting tactic, but I had nothing to hide, so I was generally not concerned."

Even though some ADPS officers deal with drug raids, according to Kipp, this is not the most dangerous task.

"The scariest thing[s are] the traffic stops," Kipp said. "We don’t know who they are or what they’ve done. Most of the [officers that are killed on duty] are shot and killed at traffic stops."

According to the National Law Enforcement Memorial Fund Web site, for the national average, there are 165 job-related police officer deaths per year. Of the national average, about 30 percent of deaths are from accidents or car-related incidents. This does not include firefighter deaths.

To prevent death and injury to officers, they reduce these risks by approaching the car from the passenger side, calling another officer for back-up and off-setting the police car so that other vehicles do not hit the officer.

Even though Kipp tries to leave his work at the department, it is hard to do while living in the town, he said.

"You see so much stuff that happens next door," Kipp said. "I’ve seen people shot, killed, stabbed, bleeding. You see people on the worst day of their lives."

In order to deal with these incidents, officers rely on their training to get the work done, according to Snyder.

"I tried to keep personal emotions out of it, but it’s rewarding when it comes to an emergency," Snyder said. "You’re going toward something that other people are running away from. People come to you for help. They trust you, and you have to do your best."

Kipp also mentioned that it was difficult to talk to people after incidents that happen on the job.

"It wears on you after a while," Kipp said. "It’s hard not to talk about it, [and] it’s hard to talk about it. Cops tend to seclude themselves because you can’t have normal conversations with people."

According to both Kipp and Snyder, it is also sometimes difficult to deal with people’s opinions of police officers because many people have negative preconceived notions.

"Police are under appreciated, and security is certainly under appreciated," Snyder said. "People have opinions of you just because you do what you do. Some will say, ‘I just don’t like cops.’ It’s bigotry."

Because ADPS only has 24 officers, each officer has a larger responsibility since there are not as many people available for a call.

"[Albion is] a small place," Snyder said. "When [dispatch] calls you, you’re the only one who can deal with it. But if you mess up, it stays with you."

According to Kipp, the stress of the job causes tension within the department because many officers always want to be in control of the situation.

"There’s more stress caused inside the station than outside, and there’s more turmoil between officers than people realize," Kipp said. "Everyone thinks they’re right. Personalities clash and I’ll tell the officers sometimes to ‘stop trying to make people like you.’"

Snyder agrees that officers have different ways that they do things and that people need to be flexible.

"It’s an art form, not a science," Snyder said. "I didn’t know [when I went into law enforcement] how much you can change things."