This post is not about the usual hiking/travel, coffee or beer
subjects. There won’t be photos, and it might make some people
uncomfortable. Read further at your own risk. I’m going to try to
complete this post without being political in any sense, but life is
politics, so I may not be entirely successful.
When I was a young lawyer, I received a letter from an opposing
attorney in a case which ticked me off. I was all set to draft a
combative letter in return and to the judge and to the client. Before
doing so, I went to my mentor (a partner at the firm) and told him about
the situation. He gave me a long, appraising look when I told him how I
was going to respond.
“Yeah, you could do that, John,” he said. “And then he’ll fire back
another nasty letter, and it will escalate. You will be able to bill
more hours. Both sides will harden, and you will be in the same
position as you are right now.”
“What should I do?” I asked
“What I would do is pick up the phone and work it out,” he answered. “You’re both smart and reasonable people.”
The advice worked. I got what I wanted at at a cost savings for the
client. It was good advice then, and it is good advice now. No matter
who you are, we have more in common than what draws us apart.
During the previous post, I mentioned that I caught a bad cold and
passed it on to the rest of my family. Julia and I recovered, and
Justin seemed to recover, but then he had a really bad relapse. We were
concerned that he might have pneumonia, which is a big deal with his
weakened respiratory system. We ended taking him to Urgent Care.
While I rarely go to the doctor myself, I’ve spent a lot of time in
hospitals and doctors’ offices due to Justin’s neuromuscular disease.
Waiting rooms are typically filled with sick people, and this place was
crowded with coughing, sniffling people who generally looked “out of
it.” During the morning, a little boy threw up into a paper bag as he
passed me on his way to the bathroom.
The only danger I perceived as I sat in the clinic was from all of
the sick people around me.
Justin and a young man were seated near each
other, waiting to be called back for lab tests. The young man was
African-American and of slight build. I probably wouldn’t have even
remembered him if not for what was about to happen. Justin and Julia
went back for more lab tests. A few minutes passed.
Suddenly, I saw two security personnel at the front desk talking with
several Madison police officers. My curiosity increased as the police
officers started walking towards me and then beyond me. A few steps
away from the young man, they slowed down. In a calm voice, one of the
officers politely stated that he knew that the young man was carrying a
knife and asked if any more weapons were in his possession.
The look on the young man’s face was genuine shock. He started to
deny that he had any weapons and then realized that he had a visible but
sheathed knife on the outside of his pants His next step was to inform
the officers that he didn’t have any other weapons.
“Am I in trouble?” he asked in a concerned voice.
The officers
stated that they would need to talk to him about that and to please
stand up. As this was going on, the few other people on that end of the
building (besides me) were ushered to the opposite wing. A private
security officer placed herself in front of me and apologized that
something like this had to happen.
When the young man stood up, an officer on each side grabbed an arm,
moved his arms behind him, and clicked on the handcuffs. Then they sat
him on his chair. He yelled out at the discomfort of sitting down while
handcuffed.
I couldn’t hear everything that was said at this point while they
talked with the young man, but I gathered that the officers were
informing him that weapons were not allowed inside the clinic and that
he had passed a sign advising him of that fact when he entered.
It
didn’t surprise me that weapons weren’t allowed in the clinic, but I
hadn’t seen or paid any attention to the sign when I came in. I
sometimes carry a knife in my pocket but not that day. When I do carry a
knife, I’m rarely conscious of my knife as a weapon. I consider it a
tool that is used to cut stuff with, as needed.
Next, the young man was ushered out of the building through a back
exit. The law enforcement officers brought him around to their cars in
the parking lot and talked to him for awhile. I don’t pretend to know
what was said or what happened in the parking lot. I have no idea. I
did observe officers come in to interview clinic employees. Everyone
agreed that the young man had not brandished the weapon or done anything
other than politely sit there waiting to be called for his labs.
Everyone agreed that clinic policy is no weapons allowed, and I heard
the private security officer state it was policy to call the police in
these situations. “We have no choice,” she said.
Eventually, the police left. Awhile later, the young man came back
inside without any police escort or his backpack or his knife. I could
hear him talking to someone on his cell phone as he walked past me.
“Man, I’m going to jail,” he said. “They found my pot.”
Without further incident, he completed his labs, saw the doctor, and
left. He looked embarrassed but stayed calm, quiet and polite.
Undoubtedly, besides being sick, he was having a really bad day.
Those are the facts, as best I recall. I honestly believe that
private security and law enforcement did all of the things that they are
“required” to do under the circumstances. No one forced the young man
to wear a knife on the outside of his pants or to have pot in his
possession ( and it had to be more than just a tiny amount, which is
decriminalized in Madison). I believe he made an honest mistake in
forgetting about the knife and that he made a bad choice in carrying
around the pot.
Having acknowledged all of that, I can’t help but think that someone
at the front desk or a private security officer should have been able to
exercise discretion and advised the young man of the no weapons policy
and that the knife was considered a potential weapon. “Sir, you can’t
come into this medical building with a knife (pointing at the sign).”
I also couldn’t help but wonder how many guys like myself have
accidentally entered the clinic with a concealed pocket knife without
being handcuffed and taken down. I guess the next step in ensuring that
we are all safe is to walk through weapons detectors on the way to the
doctor.
Finally, I wondered what kind of world we live in where “policies”
have taken away our discretion to solve problems like reasonable,
intelligent people with common sense. Make no mistake; this event will
be costly to the young man and to taxpayers. Yes, there is a huge cost
to “feeling more safe.”
Getting back to Justin, he was diagnosed with pneumonia, started a treatment with multiple antibiotics and is back at school.
Roan Mountain is still on the calendar for the end of the month,
along with a short trip to Door County. Back to our regularly scheduled
program…
