Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SATURDAY, June 3, 1995 TAG: 9506050033
SECTION: VIRGINIA PAGE: C-3 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: RAJIV CHANDRASEKARAN THE WASHINGTON POST
DATELINE: QUANTICO LENGTH: Medium
In the town of Quantico, the Police Department is in a cramped two-room office. The sole marked squad car is parked half a block down the road. But if you want to find Leo Rodriguez - patrol officer, crime investigator and parking-ticket writer, as well as chief - drop by the S&G Restaurant.
If he's not there, try the bank, the shoe store or one of the town's four barbershops - anywhere but his office. The affable Rodriguez, 61, is always pounding the pavement.
When he gets tired, he just stops walking, retreating to a section of sidewalk in the shadows of the NationsBank building at the town's main intersection. There he chats with locals, gives directions to lost tourists and responds to the occasional request for help, which usually comes not from the walkie-talkie in his left hand but from passers-by on the street.
``Everyone knows where to find me,'' said Rodriguez, who has worked for almost 15 years in the town of 720 nestled in southern Prince William County between the Potomac River and the sprawling Quantico Marine Base. ``I'm on one corner or the other.''
Quantico, like hamlets throughout Virginia, has chosen to shun full-time protection from large county police departments in favor of a few beat-walking cops.
The small-town officers do not always work nights and weekends. Most do not have training in gathering evidence, or the sophisticated equipment of larger departments - a shortcoming that has landed some of the tiny forces in trouble in recent years. But they provide something for which residents often pay almost twice as much in town taxes - personal service.
``A lot of larger police departments are trying to go back to community policing. We've been doing that all along,'' Rodriguez said while downing the $2.50 prime rib and mashed potato lunch special at the S&G, one of his regular stops. ``I know just about everybody on my beat - including the bad guys.''
He is the only officer on duty during the daytime, his beat the whole town - all 16 blocks. The ``bad guys'' include a few townsfolk on probation or parole for offenses such as drug use and assault.
Most municipal police departments function like miniature county forces, with round-the-clock protection and officers who spend most of the day in squad cars. But a few - including the departments in Quantico, Haymarket, Purcellville and Middleburg - offer a step back in time.
They are places where officers spend most of their shift on foot and where an emergency call, no matter how minor, is something to get excited about.
For Purcellville Officer Butch Fleharty, it was a three-legged groundhog running in circles in a woman's back yard last week. ``To make the homeowner comfortable,'' Fleharty said, he ``destroyed the animal with a large, blunt object,'' which he refused to identify.
``I did it with a single blow,'' he said proudly.
On the rare occasion when a serious crime, such as a homicide or robbery, occurs within the town limits, the departments usually call in county or state police investigators and evidence technicians.
Running a small town force doesn't come cheap. Some costs are recouped through fines from speeding and parking tickets, but the rest are borne by residents and businesses through higher taxes. Although town residents in Virginia must pay county taxes as well, many residents and local leaders say the added price is worth paying.
``Without a doubt, it makes sense,'' said Carol Bowersock, the mayor of Middleburg. ``It gives residents and visitors great comfort to know that they can walk through town and not have to worry about getting mugged.''
In Middleburg, the only major crimes reported last year were a rape, four burglaries, two larcenies and one car theft. Quantico had one reported robbery, two burglaries and two car thefts, according to statistics compiled by the Virginia State Police.
Things can get hairy when an officer is on vacation or out sick. In some places, the shift simply is left uncovered. Others try to bring in part-time and volunteer help.
The other drawback of not being part of a larger force, Rodriguez said, are the long stretches of ``nothing to do.'' He gets about five calls a day, but many of them are for problems as minor as a person locked out of his car or a landlord-tenant dispute.
``Sure, it can get boring,'' said Haymarket Police Chief Bill Tatum. ``But, in a way, it's nice to know that everything's safe and quiet. And I'm sure police officers everywhere would rather have it this way.''
by CNB