Case #65 - re The People vs Don Chanler (A lesson for all trainees)

 Case #65 - re The People vs Don Chanler (A lesson for all trainees)

Don Chanler was the Question Cadet in our Academy class, class #226.  At the end of each long day, one of the staff instructors would come in and, prior to dismissing us for the day, would always ask if anyone had any questions about the day's classes.  There was only one cadet who would ever raise his hand.  Don Frickin' Chanler.  Chanler would immediately raise his hand and the staff instructor would resignedly call his name. Chanler would always ask obvious question, after obvious question, delaying our release for the day with ev-ery sin-gle point-less ques-tion.  As with all Question Cadets, only he was interested in what he had to ask. 

Three years later, Don Frickin Chanler came to Carson with me, Mike Chacon and about 8 other people from our Academy class.  In Patrol School, we were not relieved to discover that he had not changed.  In fact he had gotten worse, because not only was he the Question Cadet in class, but during breaks he assumed the role of Class- Know-It-All.  The way I figure it, for all the time I had to stay over because of his inane questions without being paid to stay over, Mr. Chanler should pay for my oldest son’s college education, with a little left over for my youngest son’s car.  In patrol school those of us who were heading for Carson, would gather together during the breaks to share concerns, advice, and intel. 

TYPICAL CONVERSATION #1

“Hey how do you get your boots so shiny?”

“I use cold water when I polish them.”

“I keep a nylon stocking in my pocket to buff out any scuffs”

Interruption from Chanler,

“Doooon’t worry about it, I heard you don’t even have to shine your boots on patrol.”

TYPICAL CONVERSATION #2

“Hey what do you have in your war bag?”

“I have extra ammo.”

“I have extra cuffs”

“I have all the reports arranged in a folder”

Interruption from Chanler,

“Doooon’t worry about it, your T.O will have whatever you need.”

TYPICAL CONVERSATION #3

“Hey, have you heard about any of the Training Officers?”

“They’re all hard asses.”

“I heard a guy named Kodera and a guy named Rodriguez are pure terrors. ”

“I heard they fail more trainees than the rest of them combined.”

Interruption from Chanler,

“Doooon’t worry about it.  If you stay late, they have to pay you and the T.O.’s can’t even yell at you.” (Chanler was about 10 years ahead of his time on this subject)

Once again, only Chanler was ever interested in what Chanler had to say.  When we found out who we were being assigned to, I think we all felt a little guilty pleasure when they announced Chanler was going to Keith Kodera.  We all felt bad for Bill Cassidy though.  He was going to Vic Rodriguez.  Both of them turned pale, even Chanler, and Cassidy looked like he might go into shock.

When we got to Carson, Keith Kodera made life a living hell for Chanler, who discovered that;

1- we were, in fact, expected to have our boots shined and

2- we, in fact, were expected to have a war bag filled with everything in the world to cover every contingency and

3- the Training Officers, his in particular, could, in fact, yell at their Trainees and that 

4-we, in fact, usually did not get paid for staying 3,4, 5 or even 10 hours late on a daily basis.

One day, in about our 3rd or 4th month of training, I was driving in the neighborhood east of Campanella Park.  My T.O. Brian Schlosser, was eyeballing me with one eyebrow raised in an appraising manner and he had a slight smirk on his face.  This particular expression of his often made me nervous.  He was not a yeller.  Not when compared to some other T.O.’s.  He was more subtle.  He asked me if I had heard about Chanler the day before.  I had heard that Kodera had thrown Chanler out of the car the day before and gone back out on patrol alone, but I hadn’t heard the circumstances.  Brian filled me in on the circumstances,

“Deputy Kodera was driving around and asked Chanler where they were.  Chanler said he didn’t know. (I snuck a peek at the street sign we had just passed). Deputy Kodera slammed on the brakes and told (yelled at) Chanler to find out where they were.  Chanler got out of the car and walked (should of ran) down to the corner, then walked (should of ran) back to their car.  He told Deputy Kodera they were on Bahama, north of 148th St in Compton.  Deputy Kodera told (yelled at) Chanler to grab the microphone and say,’ 10-33, my partner’s been shot, we are on Bahama, south of 148th St in Compton!’ ”

Wow, I’m glad that wasn’t me.,  I thought.

“What do you think Chanler did?” Brian asked.

“I don’t know.”, I replied. 

“He told Deputy Kodera, no.”

WOW, I’m REALLY glad that wasn’t me.,  I thought.

“Wow.”, I said.

“How do you think that answer went over with Deputy Kodera?”, Brian asked.

“Not well.” I replied, which earned me the Carson Station’s Understatement Of The Year Award at the 1988 Christmas party.

“Deputy Kodera told (screamed at) Chanler several times to say it and Chanler refused every time.  So Deputy Kodera rolled Code-3 to the station, slammed on the brakes in front of the station, hit the trunk release and threw Chanler and all of his stuff out of the car.  Then he peeled out and went 10-8 alone for the rest of the day.”

WOW, I’m REALLY, REALLY glad that wasn’t me.,  I thought.

“Wow.”, I said.

“So…”, Brian said. 

Oh shit., I thought.

“…what do you think Chanler should have done?” 

“Well Sir, Chanler should have done what his Training Officer told him to do.”

I replied nervously.

“Humph, do you know where we are?” 

Bahama, south of 148th St in Compton , Sir.” 

Oh geez…, I thought, …exactly where Chanler was yesterday.  This can’t be good.

“Very good.”, Brian said.

I doubt it. I thought

I held my breath.  I could see Brian watching me with my peripheral vision.  He was definitely sizing me up.  He finally looked away.  I started to exhale in relief.

“Go ahead and grab the microphone.”

Damn it!, I thought.  I looked over at him to see if he was serious.  He turned to look at me as if to say, 

“Do you want a ride back to the station?”

I grabbed the microphone.

“Go ahead and sayyyyy…ohhhh…I don’t know, how about, 10-33 my partner’s been shot and give out our location.”

I stared at the radio a moment as I silently mulled over my options,

Do it. Don’t do it. Fake a heart attack. Shoot myself.

I hung my head in defeat and raised the microphone to my mouth.  Someone was running a license plate.  I took a deep breath, held it a sec and released it.  I keyed the mike,

“10-33 my partner’s been shot.  We are on Bahama, south of 148th St in Compton.”  I released the mike and waited for the flurry of radio traffic that was sure to follow that announcement.  The SRC operator began relaying the vehicle information on the vehicle plate I had just heard run.  I looked at my Training Officer, baffled.  He pointed to a button on the radio and explained that when the button was depressed, the radio could not transmit.

Verdict – Don Chanler this Court finds you Guilty of Being A Question Cadet With The Special Circumstance Of Simultaneously Acting As A Know-It-All, you are also found Guilty of Failure To Trust Your Training Officer.  

Sentence – The charge of Being A Question Cadet is, in and of itself, worthy of special punishment.  How many hours of their fellow students time have Question Cadets wasted in their selfish and pathetic efforts to garner the attention of the instructors.  And to add insult to injury, you pretend to have all the answers when the instructor is not around!  If you want to be pathetic and disliked concentrate your efforts on being either a Know-It-All, or a Question Cadet, but don’t split your time and energy between the two.  It makes you look indecisive.  On the charge of Being A Question Cadet With The Special Circumstance Of Simultaneously Acting As A Know-It-All, you are hereby ordered to 20 years in Question Cadet Hell.  In Question Cadet Hell, you will be forced to sit in a classroom of Question Cadets, with your hands tied down and your lips sewn shut, while they ask pointless question, after pointless question, for 12 hours a day, every day.  At the end of that class your second class will begin.  The class will be on a topic you know best, be that California Law, woodworking, stamp collecting, or the relative merits of being the Orks when playing Dungeons and Dragons and your opponents are the Elves.  In this class your classmates will be Know-It-Alls, who know absolutely nothing about the subject, and constantly provide you and each other with wrong information.  Once again, you will be strapped into a chair, with your hands tied down and your lips sewn shut.  At the end of 20 years you will have so many questions and answers built up inside of you that when you are released you will rush to the 1st classroom you see to let those question pour forth to the instructor and you will be dying to give your Know-It-All answers to your fellow students.  Unfortunately the moment you open your mouth, some pimply faced dweeb, dressed all in black, will enter the classroom and empty a clip of AK-47 rounds into your coconut, because he got turned down for the prom. You will die without uttering a single question, or answer.  Too bad you.

On the charge of Failure To Trust Your Training Officer, your punishment will be that for the next 20 years, Keith Kodera will be allowed to drop by Question Cadet Hell whenever he pleases and beat the living snot out of you.  Good luck with that one, pal.