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The
Lessons of Professional Courtesy
By
Paul Echols
As
I was reading a recent edition of
Ethics Roll Call, I thought of something
that occurred over thirty years ago.
When teaching ethics, some of the
best examples of ethical dilemmas
we can use are those that involve
ourselves, and this story (which I
use in my classes) has special meaning
to me. It is one that bridges three
generations, but the meaning is as
important today as it was back then.
My
story involves an incident that occurred
over 30 years ago when I was a very
young boy. Although simple, it involves
not only ethics in police work, but
ethics as a father. My dad died of
cancer in 1972 at 48 years of age.
He was a very proud WWII veteran who
fought in the South Pacific. I was
13 years old when he died and I cannot
express how devastating this was to
me and my family. He was a very ethical
man who, in his own subtle way, instilled
his ethics in me as he led by example.
The
story begins as an innocent Sunday
drive, probably about 1970. My dad
was driving, with my mother, my sisters
and me in the car as passengers. While
driving, my dad made a right turn
on red, a maneuver which had just
been made illegal in the state of
Illinois (it was for a period of years
but was later changed). He was pulled
over by a Williamson County Deputy.
I watched as the Deputy examined my
father's drivers license and ultimately
issued him a ticket for the violation.
My father was a part-time sheriff's
deputy, but he did not use his professional
association to avoid his responsibility.
He could have pulled his badge and
used it to influence the officer,
but did not. My dad got back in the
car, and the conversation was mostly
about the new law and how he had forgotten
about it. He accepted responsibility
for the error and soon the conversation
changed to other things.
A
few days later, I was with my father
while he was talking to his best friend
Charles. A life-long Republican who
was very active in politics, Charles
was also our neighbor. Coincidentally,
the Williamson County Sheriff was
also a Republican at the time, so
when my father told Charles about
receiving the ticket, Charles, being
a close friend, told my dad to give
him the ticket and he would have it
"fixed." Without hesitation,
my father told him "no thanks."
He said he had violated the law and
would pay the ticket. Knowing my father,
I don't think he did that just for
me, but also knowing my father, I
am sure he thought about it as I stood
in witness to their conversation.
He had just made an ethical decision
not only as a police officer, but
as a father. He was leading me by
example. I went with my father on
the drive to Marion, Illinois, a 70
mile round trip, to pay the fine at
the courthouse. I wonder now if he
took me with him on purpose so I would
understand the importance of responsibility.
This whole incident did not come with
any lecture. It was all done in a
subtle way.
Move
the clock up about 30 years. I became
a Carbondale, Illinois, Police Officer
in 1981, so that means I had about
19 years of police experience when
I encountered the same test as my
dad. Like any other cop with that
many years of experience, I can't
begin to count how many times I have
been "badged" by officers
I stopped who might have gone through
my radar or committed other vehicle
code violations. My own "test"
came while driving off duty with my
family. Ironically enough, while traveling
to the funeral of my dad's best friend
Charles (the one who offered to fix
my dad's ticket). I was stopped by
a small-town officer for speeding
about 5 miles an hour over the limit
in town. A minor infraction, but I
had still broken the law. Here was
the ultimate test, with my wife, small
son and daughter in the car. So, what
happened? Without even thinking, I
pulled my badge and failed miserably!
My first thought had nothing to do
with the example my father had demonstrated
so many years earlier. It had nothing
to do with money; I have more money
than my father did, and could have
paid the fine much more easily than
he was able to. I thought nothing
about my impressionable children inside
the car watching me as I displayed
my badge. It just happened naturally.
After some general conversation with
the officer, just like the cops to
whom I have given breaks, I got into
the car and we continued our trip
to the funeral home. By the time I
got there, I had forgotten all about
it. But someone else had not forgotten,
and that changed things.
As
I stood with several people in the
funeral home talking about insignificant
things, my small daughter joined in
the conversation and proudly told
those listening, "dad got stopped
for speeding on the way here, but
he pulled his badge and did not get
a ticket!" Her moment of pride
was my moment of dishonor! A sense
of failure as a father came over me.
I realized I had failed a very important
ethical test, and not just by using
my positional power / professional
courtesy to get out of a ticket. When
my daughter spoke that night, it was
clear that by using that power in
that way, I had missed an important
opportunity to demonstrate character
and responsibility to my children
as my father had done for me. I honestly
wish I had the moment back, but it
is gone. The impression I left with
my children that day was that being
a cop puts you above the law. I have
no way of knowing if that officer
would have written me a ticket that
day, but if he had, what a small price
to pay for something so priceless.
Pulling your badge on a traffic stop
is an ethical decision all police
officers have to make for themselves.
But whether anyone is with you or
not, you are setting the example.
My
father would not have been proud of
me that day. But maybe by recognizing
my mistake and presenting it to others,
I can salvage some good from it. That
would be something my father would
be proud of. He knew how to build
character; it came easy to him since
he already had it. As for me, I am
still learning. But my badge stays
in my pocket next time.
Paul
Echols is a Sergeant with the Carbondale,
Illinois, Police Department, and a
1995 graduate of the Ethics Train-the-Trainer
class. A graduate of the 188th Session
of the F.B.I. National Academy, he
is finishing work on his Master's
degree in Public Administration.
| "The
secret of life is honesty
and fair dealing. If you
can fake that, you've got
it made." -- Groucho
Marx |
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