The Virginian-Pilot
                             THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT 
              Copyright (c) 1997, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: Thursday, January 23, 1997            TAG: 9701230043
SECTION: DAILY BREAK             PAGE: E1   EDITION: FINAL 
SOURCE: BY LARRY W. BROWN, STAFF WRITER 
                                            LENGTH:  137 lines

NORFOLK'S FIRST POLICEWOMAN CRIME FIGHTER WAS A PIONEER 51 YEARS AGO WHEN SHE JOINED THE FORCE, WHICH IS CELEBRATING ITS 200TH ANNIVERSARY.

FIFTY-ONE years ago, after our soldiers came back from war in Europe, Queen Scelzi went off to fight a battle of her own. On her home soil.

When Scelzi saw an ad in the paper that Norfolk needed police officers, she quickly signed up. On Feb. 7, 1946, Scelzi was sworn in and took her place in history as Norfolk's first policewoman.

Fighting crime during the Truman and Eisenhower years was a tad different for Scelzi and her partner, Glades Perkins, than battling crime in the '90s. Perkins joined the force six months after Scelzi.

For starters, they didn't have uniforms for several years.

And a squad car? Forget it. Their first few years on the force, they had to catch the nearest bus or trolley.

``It was a trolley for a good while,'' said Scelzi, now 84. ``We either walked or bummed a ride.''

If they arrested some miscreant, the women would call headquarters for a squad car to pick them up. No hauling Joe Criminal onto the 4:40 to Ocean View.

Scelzi's place in local police lore will be highlighted this year as the Norfolk Police Department celebrates its 200th anniversary. Several pictures of Scelzi - in uniform, with her partner - will soon be on display. Another item is Scelzi's policewomen's handbag, which contained her badge and gun.

During her 19 years on the force, Scelzi served in the department's Crime Prevention Bureau, which later changed its named to Youth Services. She primarily handled cases involving youths, checking taverns for underage drinkers, nabbing school-age shoplifters and tracking down runaways. Scelzi said she often accompanied runaway girls back to their home states.

Scelzi retired on disability in 1965 after suffering heart ailments and arthritis.

Though some policing methods were different, many crimes Scelzi faced then still plague police today.

``We had some of it then but not as much,'' she recalled recently. ``We had a little bit of everything.''

It's not always easy to remember criminals and cases that date back to the 1950s, she said. However, a thick, somewhat tattered collection of photos, documents and yellowed newspaper clippings certainly helps.

Each item in Scelzi's stash contains a memory. She'll pick up one, look at it and smile, sometimes stretching her arms about her head and lacing her fingers together as she remembers.

There's a news article and mug shot of a man convicted in 1956 of ``moral violations'' involving his daughter and two other teens. ``That man was a real heel,'' Scelzi said.

Then there's another case of a man accused of exposing himself in Woolworth's department store. When Scelzi went to investigate, in plain clothes, he exposed himself to her.

``My blood pressure went up,'' she said with a laugh.

Scelzi then exposed her badge and arrested him.

Some things haven't changed. Once she was patrolling the streets of Ocean View when she spied a woman stark naked in a car. She was arrested for prostitution.

Scelzi recalled one especially violent case, involving a man convicted of molesting his stepdaughter. When he was released from jail, the man murdered his wife, then killed himself. His body was found under a porch.

Scelzi said she never had to use her gun on a suspect.

Once, she recalled, she was assaulted by a boy who was struggling to get away. He smacked her in the face, causing a nosebleed. ``He was scared,'' Scelzi said. ``I understand that.''

But like her present-day counterparts who handle youth crimes that include shoplifting, truancy and sex crimes, the gravity of a case would sometimes take its toll.

``A lot of times it was heartbreaking, really, the things that went on, the things you saw,'' she said. ``The worst part was when the children were molested. . . . So much of that.''

She said her favorite part of the job was ``being able to help the kids, because a lot of them needed help.''

When Scelzi joined the force, she had already held a variety of jobs. She had worked in a mill near the 22nd Street railroad crossing, made clothes, toiled at the Navy Yard during World War II and sorted misplaced clothes in a cleaners.

Then she saw the ad for Norfolk police. The cutoff age for applicants was 35. She barley made it: She was 34.

She was sworn in as a 4th Grade policewoman. Six men also were sworn in that day, plus another woman who left the department after about a month.

Scelzi said she never wanted to make history.

``I didn't think anything like that,'' she said, laughing. ``I thought if anyone else can do it, I can.''

There was some apprehension at first from fellow officers about having women join the force. For the most part, though, ``they treated us all right,'' Sclezi said.

Her family also understood. ``It didn't bother them, because that's what I wanted to do,'' she said.

In the beginning, Scelzi earned $175 every two weeks. By the time she retired, the top pay for women was $468 every two weeks. Like in many other jobs at that time, men received higher pay.

She said many women who joined the force after her began their careers as school crossing guards, and she was often the only woman in training classes.

Since Scelzi's time, more and more women have joined the force and have risen through the ranks. Of Norfolk's 689 sworn police officers today, 71 are women.

Last year, Sharon L. Chamberlin became the department's first woman captain. The same day, Betty A. Davis became the department's first black female lieutenant.

Some of Sclezi's roughest battles came after she left the streets. Doctors told her when she retired that she only had three to four ``good'' years left.

``To tell you the truth,'' she said. ``I was depressed for awhile.''

Her husband, Rocco, died of cancer in the early 1980s. In the following years, she continued to suffer from heart problems, then a brain tumor. An operation to remove the tumor was successful, though it robbed her of some of her hearing.

Born in Southampton County, Scelzi moved to Suffolk when she was 3, then Norfolk at age 12. She now lives in a modest Ghent apartment surrounded by pictures of her family.

She has a daughter, two grandchildren, four great-grandchildren and eight great-great-grandchildren.

She shakes her head in disbelief at the brutality of crime in 1997 but says that if she were 34 years old again and looking at an ad in the paper, she'd make haste to sign up again.

``I would,'' she said, ``because I've always been interested'' in police work. ILLUSTRATION: Color photo by Ricahard L. Dunston\The Virginian-Pilot

Queen Sceizi looks over clippings that remind her of her days as

Norfolk's first policewoman. She joind the force in February 1946.

Photo by RICHARD L. DUNSTON/The Virginian-Pilot

Queen Scelzi says her favorite part of being a policewoman was

``being able to help the kids, because a lot of them needed help.''

Photos

Courtesy of Queen Sceizi

During her 19 as a policewoman, Sceizi primarily handled cases

invloving youths.

Sceizi, left, was joined on the force after six months by Glades

Perkins, who became her partner.

KEYWORDS: NORFOLK POLICE DEPARTMENT POLICEWOMAN 200TH

ANNIVERSARY


by CNB