Cruising the campus beat

Bad boys, bad boys, whatcha gonna do, whatcha gonna do when they come for you… Well, not quite. More like, “naughty students, naughty students…” but that’s not even remotely catchy.

There are at least three officers on the beat through the fall. (Nick Pearce Photo)

On the night of September 17, a Dalnews photographer and reporter – me – went on a ride along with Halifax Regional Police Constables Mark Long and Peter Adamski during Operation Fallback, a dedicated patrol of the university area. Fallback operates every Thursday, Friday and Saturday night in September and is organized by Const. Long, community liaison officer.

The following is my account of the evening, a “quiet” Thursday night patrol in Halifax’s south-end university district.

9:30 p.m.
The constables pick us up in the Dal parking lot where we sign waiver forms. “If we ask for your assistance you can decline,” says Const. Long. “But we won’t ask you to stand in the line of fire,” he adds, seemingly to reassure my sheepish colleague.

We embark. The officers explain how this Operation Fallback… operates. Four officers patrol the university area, mostly surrounded by Oxford, Jubilee, Robie and Inglis streets – two officers in a cruiser, one on a bicycle and one in an unmarked car. Their primary functions? Liquor compliance, noise complaints and transferring suspects to booking.

Don’t breathe easy yet lawbreakers. They’ll still perform any and all police duties if necessary. 

This year, they’re getting the word out on the street early that breaking the law will cost you. “If we do more enforcement early in the year, we can nip the problems in the bud,” says Const. Long. I guess these guys mean business. So much for my ideas of a Superbad ride along.

This is no covert operation though. Const. Long is a nice guy, a real life Buzz Lightyear, and he’d rather not have to write any tickets. He wants to educate students before they end up in that situation and has spoken to frosh, returning students, international students and RAs at Dal and SMU.

9:59 p.m.

It's an offence to walk around with open liquor. (Nick Pearce Photo)

Our first incident. Const. Currie, patrolling the area by bicycle, is with students on the sidewalk and we stop to assist him. He’s writing a violation against an underage female student, a glass of wine in hand, but this is no social gathering.

“A common misconception is that you can transport liquor in something like a travel mug across the city,” says Const. Long.

No dice. That’s still open liquor under the law. In fact, liquor can only be carried in its original sealed packaging. Take note, hooligans.

After the students have left, another student, a resident of the house we happened to be standing in front of, returns home:

“What’s going on?” he asks.

“We’ve been waiting for you,” responds Const. Long.

“What?! What’s wrong, what did I do?” says the startled student.

“I’m only joking,” says Const. Long, humour not lost on the student.

Back in the cruiser, Const. Long says students have been cooperative this year when dealing with police and that’s easier on everyone.

10:18 p.m.

"You're the cop from the calendar!" Above, Mark Long shot in the Dal-distributed calendar. (Nick Pearce Photo)

We’re sent to investigate a noise complaint from an anonymous caller. Music can be heard across the street, what the law calls, ‘engaging in activity that unreasonably disturbs the neighbourhood.’

After knocking on the door for several minutes, the tenants finally appear. Const. Long informs them of the complaint, the noise bylaw and meticulously explains the situation. As there are no previous complaints to the residence, they’ll be given a warning.

They should consider themselves lucky. But the house is now in the system and new complaints will result in fines.

Const. Long is interrupted. “I know you! You’re the cop from the calendar,” exclaims one of the students. He’s referring to Const. Long’s September picture in the Dalhousie Community Calendar. To his minor celebrity status, Const. Long delivers some modest laughter and the students agree to pipe down and we’re on our way.

10:35 p.m.
As Const. Adamski fills out the report, there’s another noise complaint for “Triple Charlie”—that’s us. We arrive to the indistinguishable sound and feeling of excessive bass… or is that my heart?

Nope. Music, it can be heard blocks away.

The officers check for prior complaints on the house – none. Handling the situation the same way as the first house, the officers diffuse the situation. Like the first house, another star-struck tenant recognizes Const. Long from the calendar.

10:54 p.m.
Another noise complaint. A Fallback constable is already present, has shut down the party and is waiting for the tenants to present identification. About 20 students are on the lawn, some still unaware the police mean business. Ha! That soon changes.

Excited by the presence of the now-famous Const. Long and the internationally renowned Dalnews, the students begin to get rowdy until they’re informed the constables don't mind filling out tickets for all of them. Like Stephen Harper from a family photo, they quickly disappear.

The female residents eventually present their IDs and receive warnings.

“We didn’t know all of the people who showed up,” they say. “They wouldn’t leave.”

“If people won't leave, call us and we’ll come,” says the constable. “Otherwise it's on the tenants.”

I rewind a bit. While lost on me during the commotion I recall that even with a crowd of people, the constables are unfazed, remaining professional, quickly making it clear they’re not here to play games – message received.
 
11:19 p.m.
What kind of a police story would be without it? A quick stop at Tim Horton's for a coffee. I can’t help but take the obvious jab. “This will be the highlight of the story,” I say. “What everyone is hoping to see,” which gets a laugh from both officers. I’ve drawn a laugh from law enforcement officers. Correction – this is the highlight of the story.

11:24 p.m.
Like the sugar in our coffee, the humour quickly dissolves as we’re off to Waterloo Street. Const. Currie has requested our ‘paddy wagon’ to transfer a student to booking.

After screaming like a banshee in the street, ignoring various warnings and arguing and shouting vulgarities at Const. Currie, he’s arrested for public intoxication. As Const. Long escorts the suspect to the van, his friend begins to scream obscenities at the officers.

You got your wish pal, a one-way ride with your buddy to the drunk tank.

I realize there is probably no line the officers haven’t heard as the suspect tells Const. Long his father is a lawyer. “I know,” responds Const. Long, “Everyone’s father is a lawyer.” Well played.

We escort the gentlemen to the detachment where they’re handed over for booking. “Book ‘em!” Ha! I’ve always wanted to say that.

11:51 p.m.

The officers attend to a young man who's had too much to drink. (Nick Pearce Photo)

Const. Currie is attending to a male student, passed out on a Cedar Street sidewalk. Lucky for him, a passing dog, out for a stroll with its owner, sniffed him out – undoubtedly his best friend tonight.

When the paramedics arrive, the young man, unsure of where he is, attempts to explain he’s trying to get back to campus, which I note is in the opposite direction. Paramedics assist him to the ambulance and take him for examination.

I’m told that if necessary they’ll put someone in the drunk tank overnight for their own safety. “It’s about keeping everyone safe,” says Const. Long. Amen to that.

12:50 a.m.

It's not OK, even in Ontario, to hang your arms and legs out of a moving vehicle. (Nick Pearce Photo)

We’re stopped at a… stop sign. A taxi motors by with passengers hanging their heads and arms out the windows. “Real clever,” I think to myself. On come the sirens and the cab quickly pulls over.

You’ll be walking the rest of the way,” Const. Long tells the passengers.

They must think he was born yesterday. “It’s OK to do it in Ontario,” they exclaim “Of course it is,” replies Const. Long.

Jokes on them. Const. Long assures them it’s against the law across the country.

1:21 a.m.
We spot a female student walking home alone and pull over to ask her if she’s OK. She responds impatiently saying she’s fine and lives nearby. We coast along with her and Const. Long advises people shouldn’t walk alone late at night for safety reasons, especially with the “sleepwatcher” still at large.

She stops and turns on dime, hands on her hips. “Do you know how strong I am? I’ll beat up the sleepwatcher and bring him to you.” I’m inclined to believe her. Const. Long says he doesn’t want it to come to that, asks her to be careful and wishes her a good evening as she arrives home.

1:43 a.m.

Tickets for open liquor or under-aged drinking will set you back $452, and that's for a first offence. (Nick Pearce Photo)

Almost quitting time, almost…

Const. Adamski – his superhero name would suitably be Eagle Eye – spots a student carrying an open case of beer. We pull up. Foolishly, he comes toward the cruiser, seemingly offering us beer before quickly realizing his disastrous mistake.

Note to self, don’t offer beer to police. Better yet – don’t carry open liquor.

It may seem unfair to the student, but Const. Long explains they’re enforcing liquor violations heavily this year. As he hands the student his citation, he thoroughly explains the student his rights – Const. Long doesn’t miss details – pointing out where his court date is written on the ticket.

“Can I fight the ticket in court?” he asks.

“That’s your decision,” replies Const. Long.

Perhaps unaware of the process, or still feeling the effect of the open case’s missing beer, the student asks if he pleads “not guilty” if Const. Long will vouch for him.

Puzzled, but undeterred, Const. Long says he will tell the court what happened.

“Is there anything I can do?” asks the suddenly sober student. “Stay out of trouble and we’ll see when we get to court,” replies Const. Long.

2:02 a.m.
We’re back in the Dal parking lot – where it all began – hmm, that sounds overdramatic, meh, it’s 2 a.m. I’m tired.

Const. Long puts the confiscated case of Moosehead into the trunk of the cruiser as Dalhousie security pulls up. “Arrest these two,” says Const. Long pointing to my colleague and me – I quickly remember all of my parking infractions on campus and give a nervous laugh as the security cruiser disappears into the early morning fog.

We thank the constables for letting us tag along. Const. Adamski apologizes in case we felt the night dragged on. I look at him puzzled. “It was an unusually slow night,” he says. With not a dull moment all evening I had thought quite the opposite, leaving me to wonder what a busy night was like, or for that matter, an average one. Maybe next time.