Chief Brian Miller

I have received many e-mails of late, concerning our bar compliance checks and also the closing of some bars. I would love to tell you all of it has been positive and supportive, but it has not. One writer asked me if I was on some type of “prohibition crusader” and questioned if I was in fact, anti bar, anti alcohol. Most of the time, the names I am called are of the four letter variety and the meaning is well known. I had to look up “crusade” in the dictionary to make sure I knew the meaning before responding. Crusade - any vigorous, or aggressive movement for the defense or advancement of an idea, cause, etc.: a crusade against child abuse.

My response: I have been a law enforcement officer all of my adult life. I well understand that the typical corner bar ( Cheer’s variety) sometimes presents challenges to local law enforcement. There is the intoxicated subject that wants to take a swing at another patron, the domestic fights that occurs when the intoxicated person gets home, often without their paycheck, (most of which they have left at the bar) and of course the drunk driver. While I don’t approve of any of these situations, and I acknowledge that they sometimes they cost the city precious police resources, I believe that we can handle these associated problems. What I do not have the resources to handle, is the associated costs that come to our city when a bar allow, caters, and even imports gang members from other cities to come to their bar, fight, sell drugs, and exchange gunshots with other patrons. These are the calls that tax your overworked Saturday night patrol officers, aggravate residents, and create a bad reputation for a city that is trying to clean itself up.

You may ask, Chief, how do you determine which bars are a nuisance? It’s relatively simple. First, I check the call history for our local bars. If they have weekly, (or nightly) calls for fights, gang activity, and especially shots fired, you can bet you have a problem bar. Second, I talk with my patrol officers, they are a wealth of information. Many of them have been working in the same patrol district for many years. They well know the problems and can easily determine where additional police resources may be needed. This year, I have received several supplemental reports, generated by my patrol officers, that have documented “problem bars” and detail lengthy call histories and additional problems ( owners that fail to cooperate with responding officers) that they have observed.  My gang unit officers are well aware of the bars in this city that have become ‘gang hangouts”. They will often tell me by name, which gangs and well known members hang out at which bars. Lastly, I rely on citizens tips and my own observations that I make when we perform bar compliance checks. This past weekend, I walked into one of our bars and quickly observed a motorcycle gang member dressed in his colors, bellied up to the bar. This, along with the fact that this bar had a shooting incident (no one was injured) the previous weekend, quickly allowed me to surmise there may be a problem.

When we determine that a bar is becoming a ‘nuisance” we make contact with the owner and talk with them about ways that they can improve the situation at their respective bars. We often suggest extra lighting, metal detectors, Id scanners, and dress codes that don’t allow gang apparel. We suggest, we do not mandate changes. However; we inform the owners that if the problem is not addressed by them, we will be attending liquor board hearings in an attempt to have their license suspended or revoked.

It is not my intention to close businesses. We have enough boarded up businesses and I do not wish to see more. I will help any business that is complying with state and local laws.  However; I absolutely will not stand idle, and allow a bar or business to allow, entice, and even cater to criminal gang members.

Many years ago I took an oath to protect and serve. I believe with all my heart that strict bar compliance is a positive direction for the Hammond Police Department, and ultimately the citizens of Hammond.

Chief Brian Miller

Last night (Saturday) I went bar hopping. I brought along 12 Hammond Police Officers and about 8 Indiana State Excise Officers. We were performing bar compliance checks. We started at Jen’s Apartment in Robertsdale. There were approximately 20 patrons present when we arrived. Excise cited the bar for retail to retail sales. Essentially, bar owners must buy their alcohol from licensed wholesaler. Jen’s management bought their liquor at a regular retail outlet. Excise confiscated about ten cases of Budweiser and Corona and one bottle of Wild Turkey. We left Jen’s and went straight to the Robertsdale Inn. Upon arrival, one subject left the front porch and immediately ran into the bar. We caught up with the suspect rather quickly, and he was arrested for public intoxication. Upon entering the bar, we observed one motorcycle gang member (wearing colors) and about 25 patrons. The bar was cited by Excise for selling tobacco without a permit. My officers also found a small baggie on the front porch, believed to have been used for narcotics packaging. The baggie was empty, and there was not enough residue to test.

We traveled straight to Milskie’s Pub, where approximately 12 patrons were present. Excise cited the bar for allowing patrons to run a continual tab (all tabs must be closed  at night’s end) and for not having a licensed bar tender serving drinks. We closed their bar for the night and moved to the Copper Penny on Kennedy Avenue. Upon arrival we began checking age id’s and Excise quickly located a female subject that did not have an id and looked underage. During a pat down of the subject, several Zanex pills were located in a clear cellophane wrapper in her jacket pocket. Although she claimed to have a prescription, she could not produce it. While trying to ascertain her age and identity, it was learned that she gave us her sister’s name and date of birth because she was in fact twenty years of age. The suspect was charged with minor in a tavern, and also possession of a controlled substance. Copper Penny was cited by excise for allowing a minor in their bar, and also retail to retail liquor.

Our last stop of the night ( 2:30AM) was at LaRosa’s Pizzeria and bar on Indianapolis Boulevard. I had met with the owners about a month ago, to talk about some of the problems our police officers have been having at the bar. Fights, shots fired, have been some of the calls that our police department has responded to recently. In the meeting, I gave the owner written suggestions that might help alleviate the problems they have been having. Of course the changes I proposed are not mandatory, (this is America and you can do what you want as long as it’s legal) I did tell them that we would monitor the situation and if the bar became a nuisance, we would be working to get their alcohol license revoked. Although they promised to make numerous changes, none had been made as of last night. We will closely follow this bar’s progress, (or decline), and I will keep you updated. One subject was arrested at LaRosa’s for public intoxication. Excise police and the Hammond Police called it a night and went home at 3:30AM. We will be performing many more compliance checks in the near future. Both police agencies expressed an interest in returning very soon to some of these establishments.

Please keep in mind that all the violations and arrests made were based on probable cause only, and the subjects, and respective bars are to presumed innocent of any law violations, until proven guilty in a court of law.

Your tired friend,

Brian Miller

In the wee hours of the morning we served two search warrants at the Renaissance apartment complex. Both warrants were for suspected narcotics possession and possible distribution. Although it went smooth, no injuries to police or suspected individuals, we did not find the amount of drugs we were looking for.  At one of the locations, the participating suspect male had a previous conviction for bank robbery, and was suppose to have a cache of weapons in the apartment.

There were children at both locations, and their presence at a drug house always bothers me. I wonder what their life will be like. My SWAT guys are always sympathetic with children, and talk to the kids to calm them. Still, I can’t help but think they see us as their enemy, I just hope we can erase that perception as time goes by.

We did recover a handgun at one of the locations, and I always think it is a positive when we are able to take a criminal’s gun away. Although I am slightly disappointed I still feel that the effort was a solid try by our Special Deployment Unit (narcotics) to stem the flow of drugs into our city.

Chief Brian Miller

It’s been many years since I first put this uniform on. I have worn a uniform for all my adult life. First as an Army soldier, then as a police officer. I remember my first years in blue, putting on my dry clean only wool slacks, and all the metal do dads like name tag and weapons qualification pins. I would look into the mirror before I left for work each day, to insure my uniform was correct and precise. It was important to me to look the part even when I didn’t have a clue what to do. I realized early on if you looked like you knew what you were doing, you probably could fool people into believing anything. I once conned a man into trading an eighteen month old baby boy for a slightly used Chevy Celebrity. We were in the middle of a tense standoff, and by the end of the call I had convinced him that I was a high ranking police officer (not even close at the time) and also a Notary Republic (his words, not mine). On a slightly used Subway (eat fresh!) napkin, I drafted a contract and got him to give the baby back to it’s mother. We exchanged a baby for a set of car keys, and I still think the man got the better part of the deal; the baby was colicky and had a “loaded” diaper. Did he really collect the car after he got out of jail? Those are the things that make me wonder…

An important part of being a police officer is to always remain cool and calm even when the whole world is falling apart around you. You must be a pool of tranquility in the middle of rough seas. This is hard to do when sometimes you are immersed in a truly scary situation and are shaking with fear. You better look calm, because you will be eaten alive if you show fear.

On a hot, steamy, August midnight turn, I got dispatched to an active shooter call. A woman had called 911 and stated that her son had woke up mad at the world, he had been drinking all day, and was thoroughly tanked ( when I worked midnights I sometimes wondered if I would ever go on a call where the involved parties were sober). The 30 year old son had grabbed a rifle and began shooting inside the house. Back in the day we didn’t have a gazillion cops on the streets, and because we had many patrols in the station on arrests, I was one of the only officers available for the call. I responded in stealth mode (no headlights) and quietly exited my patrol car several houses away from the target house. I took my shotgun, I was really hyped up and began to quietly approached the darkened house. There were no street lights or other houses lit up, so it was very dark. It was so hot and humid, I felt a weight on my shoulders and it was hard to breathe. As I slowly approached the house, a burst of gunfire forced me to flee behind a parked car. From my Army days I knew what gunfire sounded like and was concerned that the gunman had got out of the house, and was firing at me. I didn’t see the muzzle flash from his rifle, and I didn’t have an idea where he was. I was really scared as I tried to rack my pump shotgun. When your adrenalin is flowing it feels like your wearing ski mitts, you become clumsy, and lose your fine motor skills. The shotgun wouldn’t unlock and I thought the weapon was jammed. In reality, I was so hyped up that I had already chambered a round and the action wouldn’t open because the gun was already loaded. I slid the defunct (or so I thought) weapon under the parked car and drew my revolver. My hands were shaking badly and I was sweating a river. I radioed for backup, and explained my situation, I couldn’t move and I didn’t know where the gunman was.

The station emptied out and back up was on the way. I could hear the approaching sirens, and believe me, it is the most comforting sound in the world when you are in a bad situation.

More gunfire erupted, and I heard glass breaking. Just when I thought this situation could get no worse, I looked up over the car and saw a man standing about five feet away from me. The only reason I didn’t shoot him, was because he had a cigarette in one hand, and a beer in the other. In a very drunk, but calm voice he said “officer, what’s going on?” A million answers swam through my mind, most of them of the profane variety. As I lowered my shaking pistol away from my new “friend” I told him in a voice that belied my fear, “pal, why don’t you go back into your house, I’m in the middle of a gunfight and a little busy”. Without a word, the obvious Harvard grad turned and walked a few feet away where he stood watching me. I started to think his presence was a good thing, that he might draw the gunman’s fire and allow me to get to a safe position.

More cars arrived, and I began to breathe. There was more gunfire, but I could tell it was coming from some distance away. We found out later that the drunk shooter had exited the house and was shooting at street lights and anything else he took a fancy to. Even after we fanned out and searched, we were unable to find him. He was arrested the next day on warrants that we had obtained.

I remember the walk back to my squad car. The realization that it was over, and that I had cheated death. My only wound was a bleeding hand; I had skinned it trying frantically to make my shotgun work. I wanted to take a minute and get my head straight, but the squelch broke on my radio, I was being sent to the next ‘disaster”. Such is life in the fast lane…

I don’t know what happened to my “Ivy League” educated friend.  Did he later receive a “Darwin Award” for some stupid act ? Those are the things that make me wonder…

Yours,

Chief Brian Miller

Most of my regular blog readers know that I love mountains and have been climbing each winter for several years.  In 2008, I attended a mountain climbing school and absolutely fell in love with the White Mountains of New Hampshire, and especially, Mount Washington. I have dreamed about summiting this mountain for three years, and February 23rd was my second serious attempt.  In 2009, I turned away from the summit about 1500 feet short. The sustained winds were 60 miles an hour, the temperature was far below zero.

Every day, for a year, I have planned to try again in an attempt to make the summit. As mountains go, Washington is dwarfed by taller mountains in the rockies and the West coast. It is considered to be a dangerous winter climb because of the fact that it is the convergence point of three weather fronts. This mountain boasts the world’s worst weather, and is one of the windiest places in America. Many climbers have fallen due to hypothermia, avalanches and ice falls. I was determined not to join them in their fate. I have attended good schools and have always had great guides to assist me.

This year I was climbing with Joe Lentini.  Lentini is a superman on this mountain with over 475 winter assents of Mount Washington.  He was the climbing director of Eastern Mountain Sports for 31 years. Joe is a patient and thorough man. He made sure that I climbed safely, and was a source of constant encouragement. I cannot say enough about Joe, he is the best.

We started our climb at 7:30am. We had to hike about two miles to the base of the mountain to reach the starting point of our climb.  It was steep, and relentless. During the hour and a half hike we gained 1400 feet in elevation, and with a twenty pound pack on my back, it was a good workout.  I have trained on the police department’s stairs since September and am in fairly good shape, but it was still taxing. The hike was through a winding path in a spruce tree forest. The trees were covered in snow and I could hear nothing but the crunch of our boots on snow. It was beautiful.

When we got to the Lions Head climbing path, we put on crampons (foot fangs for snow and ice climbing) and got our ice axes in hand. Lions Head is a steep climbing route with a few pitches that are nearly vertical. Last year, I had some trouble negotiating the vertical ice. I had taken training classes on climbing vertical ice, but my technique is passing at best.

This year, I was climbing well and remembering to keep three points of contact to the mountain. You kick the toe spikes of your crampons into the ice, stick your ice axe firmly in the wall and climb up ala spiderman. I was moving steadily when near disaster struck. As I planted my left toe spikes in the ice, my crampon became loose and fell down to a ledge. There were several climbers from Massachusetts that were below me,  and one of them was kind enough to climb up with my lost crampon. I was lucky, I didn’t fall and my crampon didn’t land way down the mountain. Either event would have ended my climbing, or worse. I was shaken, as Joe and I worked to put the crampon back on, while standing on a ledge. Joe was unflappable, and not at all worried. Brian, a lot worried and a little scared. After a minute where I did a serious gut check, we climbed on.  The climb continued to be a steep venture, and after about an hour we were at about 4900 feet and we made it to the Lions Head rock formation.  It’s supposed to look like it’s namesake, but I still don’t see the resemblance.  This was the point where I turned around last year, so I was happy I had made it that far. We ate and drank, and then put on goretex jackets for our summit bid. We were above the tree line, and the wind began to pick up. Because we were in the middle of a cloud, the visibility was low, and the moisture in the cloud fell on us and froze. Joe, ever vigilant, noticed that I had frost nip on my nose, the precursor of frostbite. I quickly covered my face with a balaclava and continued on.

We began to walk through the Alpine Garden (small flowers grow here in the summer) and it quickly became my favorite spot on the mountain. It’s flat and the safest part of the climb. The climbing group from Massachusetts was either ahead of us, or right with us for most of the trip.  I was able to talk to some of the climbers and we were all enjoying the experience. They were very polite, and friendly 20 something year olds and they renewed my hope for the future generations.

The visibility worsened, and Joe told me if we got to the point where we couldn’t see the rock cairns (piles of rocks) that marked important features of terrain, we were going to have to descend. I had a compass and map, but of course followed Joe’s steps, he knows every rock on the mountain. If it got to the point that Joe would have difficulty navigating we were going to be in a bad spot, because I did not know the terrain well and would have had a hard time getting out of there with a compass. We just couldn’t see far at all. Joe as always was careful, but not concerned.  I am convinced that an atomic bomb would not have shaken him.

After some time we reached the summit cone, I could barely see some climbers ahead of us on a ridge, but could not see the summit.  The summit cone is very steep and by now I was seriously burnt. My calves and thighs were screaming, and the blisters that developed on my feet early, were now torn off and my heels felt raw. I was in agony and thought I couldn’t make it up the last 600 feet. I kept a slow but steady pace, and when I was at the end of my endurance, Joe showed me his altimeter, and told me we only had a quarter mile and had 400 vertical feet to travel to the summit.  I seriously thought about giving up and ending my climb. I pictured myself thinking about the climb later and how upset I would be to come up 400 yards short. I began climbing again, very slowly. I would climb ten steps and then rest. Finally I walked up the last slope and came up on a flat area. At 1:20PM, I stepped up on the top of the highest mountain East of the Mississippi. There were no bands playing, no flags waving, just an indescribable feeling of accomplishment. It was cold on the summit, with thirty five mph winds cutting through my clothing, We had concerns about the visibility, so we had little time to spend on the summit.  A few quick photos, an adjustment of clothing, and a drink of water were my rewards for ‘making it”.

I was worried about the descent, although it takes less energy, it is more dangerous.  Going down you are leaning away from the mountain, and a slip could lead to disaster. Joe insured I was using the proper down climbing technique, and I was safety roped for three of the almost vertical parts of the climb. My knees and back were screaming, and I started to wonder if I had done some permanent damage to my over middle aged body. After a few hours, we were back in the spruce forest, heading down, and enjoying the last part of our journey. Almost ten hours of hard climbing, but the time went by so fast.  I was tired and slightly injured, but completely hyped up because of the day. It was an ideal climb, extremely hard, but strangely satisfying. When you push yourself to your physical and mental limits, you will find you can accomplish more than you dreamed.

I write this blog a day later, still sore but enjoying the feeling of accomplishing something that had become a three year goal. What did I learn from all of this that could be applied to every day life? First, always make sure you have your feet firmly planted.  Second, don’t try something difficult without a partner. One man is alone, two make a team. Last, don’t lick your ice axe when it is 10 below zero. I didn’t do it, and didn’t really have a craving to do it, but Joe said it would have dire consequences. Thank you Joe, you got me to the top and down, you never gave up. I will never forget my summit day.

Mount Washington is not Mount Everest, but it is the Everest of my dreams.

“Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving in a pretty, well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, totally worn out and used up, loudly proclaiming Wow! what a ride!”.

A little worn, but not used up,

Brian Miller

Washington D.C. is calling their record snowfall year “Snowmageddon”. Our totals do not even come close to rivaling theirs but I like the sound of it anyway.

On Tuesday we had 6 vehicle crashes from 6Am - 12 noon.  Today, one crash.  All were fairly minor… It seems like we have escaped fairly unscathed.

I am impressed by our street department’s efforts to keep out roads clear.

I worry, a lot…obviously it is unnecessary at times.

Tomorrow (Tuesday) and Wednesday we are expecting heavy snow.  I have my Traffic Division and Emergency Management on standby.  We will be monitoring the snow fall tonight and letting the street department know where there are icy conditions.

Tomorrow morning, if necessary, we will implement our emergency traffic plan. Motorists involved in a minor crash (no injuries, small damage) who call the police for a report will be instructed to move their car out of traffic and come to the police station for a report. Traffic officers will be on station to take added reports.

We receive three benefits from this approach.  One, the involved cars get out of the lane of traffic, clearing the streets for rush hour. Two, it doesn’t tie up our patrol officers so they can be ready to respond to more critical situations. Three, our officers don’t have to travel to the crash sites which will hopefully keep them out of hazardous conditions.

I am hoping the snow passes us.  I personally like snow but it is a pain in the butt for emergency services.

I will ask that you slow down if driving in snow.  In almost twenty years of being a lawman, I have never seen a traffic crash fatality where the vehicles were doing 20MPH. It just doesn’t happen.

Best of luck, stay warm and dry.

Below are 2009’s crime stats.  Down is always good. We stiil have work to do.   We are changing some of our police divisions to more effectively fight violent crime.  More on this later.

In January we started a very aggressive reciprocity violation campaign (Illinois plated vehicles). We started in Robertsdale and have already ticketed 175 car owners. This morning we towed 20 vehicles. We will carrying this out in all sections of the city, you will see our cars and tow trucks soon.

Some of you were probably late getting to work this morning if you use Calumet Avenue.  At about 7:50AM, a Pontiac Grand am piloted by a young male subject, was traveling South on Calumet Ave.  As he approached the railroad tracks, he observed a school bus stopped at the crossing. The gates were down and a train was approaching East to West. This subject drove up on the sidewalk, on the right hand side of the bus, and attempted to get around the gates. He drove into the engine of the oncoming train.  If he had been driving faster, the train would have cut his car in half.  After the accident, the driver got out of his car and began running towards Summer St. He fell down in the 800 block of Summer and that’s where my officers and the ambulance crew found him.

The driver was transported to St. Margaret’s Hospital for treatment. Our investigation into the crash is ongoing.

Chief Brian Miller

I received a lot of e-mails about my New Years post, (the intoxicated woman who took a swan dive into a Christmas tree).  Many asked me to share a few more stories. I am a public servant, and live to serve, so I will bow to peer pressure, and share another memory.

I have been assigned to many various jobs while serving the Hammond Police Department. The best days I have had, were the days I was assigned as a patrol officer. Most of the first six years “on the job” were spent patrolling Central Hammond.  I loved the people, I loved the job, but most of all, I loved the camaraderie I shared with my partners.

Back in the day, we rode two deep in Central Hammond. That’s two police officers in the same car. The senior officer got to pick his partner. My partners were more than work friends. We became lifelong pals. We worked together, played together, and shared all the good and bad things that life brings.

We were always playing pranks on the patrol officers working the adjacent beat, who also worked two deep on some occasions. We would call them on the radio (before cell phones) and ask them to meet us in a parking lot.  When they arrived, we would be on an nearby roof launching a carton of eggs at them, and their cruiser.

For those of you that are truly offended by our wanton destruction of city property, misuse of police radio or waste of “on duty time”, its only humor, I sincerely apologize.

One bright, January day, we were patrolling our given area in a most aggressive manner.  It was a snowy weekend day and nothing was going on.  A call came out that a car had been stolen at a local gas station. The female victim had left the motor running, while she went into the store to pay for her gasoline.  A young male subject had seized his opportunity, and helped himself to her “ride”. The caller stated that she saw the man drive off Southbound on Calumet Ave. from the gas station. We began a quick search of the immediate area.  Even a blind chicken finds a piece of corn once in awhile, and on this day the adjacent beat car spotted our stolen vehicle.  The chase began and the subject made his run for the border, into East Chicago. It was a good day for a chase, no one on the road, no kids at play. Although pursuits are always dangerous, this one was going well.  Because of our Jeff Gordon, NASCAR like, driving abilities, we were able to stay with the stolen vehicle (also because he was driving a 4 cylinder piece of  crap, and we had Crown Vics with V8 police interceptor engines).

When we were finally in the crook’s neck of the woods, he started riding the brakes, a sure sign he was going to “bail”. Just like a pack of crazed shoppers at a Walmart sale, we were all over him. Relying on something he saw at the movies, Captain Brain Trust (the car thief) slowed his borrowed ride down to thirty miles an hour and jumped out. I guess he hadn’t ever tried this move before, because it had very negative consequences. As any physics professor could predict, he hit the pavement like a ton of bricks and began somersaulting his way down the street.  His left shoe flew off, as he continued to flop around like a fish out of water, before he finally came to a stop. Only our “cat like reflexes” (laugh) saved his life, as we had to slam on our brakes to avoid running him over.  Our intrepid criminal stood up, shook the cobwebs out of his head, and began limping away. My partner and I were laughing so hard that we could hardly get out of the car and chase him.  Although there were already many tracks in the snow, we were able to easily distinguish which ones were his, one shoe print, one sock print, one shoe print, one sock print… you get the idea.

We turned the corner, hot on his heels, and found ourselves in the rear lot of a local business.  Our criminal must have eaten a big bowl of stupid for breakfast that morning, because his common sense was still failing him.  We followed his tracks straight up to a trash incinerator, which had been stuffed with paper, cardboard, and one stupid car thief.  The door to the incinerator was closed, and we were a little hesitant to approach it in case he was armed.  For one brief second, (mind you it was very brief) I thought about lighting the paper that was sticking out of the incinerator and seeing if it would hasten his exit.  Maybe the thought of standing in front of a judge and trying unsuccessfully to explain why I set a car thief on fire, brought me to my senses. After we had completely surrounded the incinerator, we were able to talk him into coming out.

To make the day even more special, after we had placed the subject in the back of the car, I asked him to put his legs out of the door.  A hush fell over the assembled crowd, because they knew they were going to witness something truly historic. With all eyes gazing at the spectacle, like the prince putting the magic slipper on Cinderella, I put our thief’s missing shoe on his foot.  It was a perfect fit and made an identical pair. There were tears in our eyes, and the moment overwhelmed all. If only Hallmark had a card that fit that occasion…

Epilogue…We all had a good laugh, and after medical treatment for his extensive “road rash” and severely sprained ankle, “Cinderella” got a free stay at the” Lake County Magic Castle” courtesy of the Hammond Police.

And we all lived happily ever after…

I can’t make this stuff up, my imagination is not that good. I still laugh about it after all these years.

Live life, it only comes around once.

Chief Brian Miller