Talent Police Chief C.W. Smith makes the rounds at a luncheon of Talent business people.
Photo by Jim Craven
By BETH QUINN
TALENT -- In the five weeks since he became Talent's top cop, former Jackson County Sheriff C.W. Smith has made lots of visible changes.
His five full-time officers now wear municipal blue.
They patrol in freshly painted cruisers sporting the traditional black and white design.
The three flags out front that used to stay up around the clock now come down at the end of the day.
And when Talent's police chief is behind his desk in the front office of the station house on Talent Avenue, the shade on the big front window is always up.
"Just to let everybody know we're open for business," he says.
By Smith's definition, Talent's cop business should include community policing to provide referrals to helping agencies, wellness programs to boost staff health and morale, and cultural diversity in hiring. He also wants to increase the use of volunteers -- both existing reservists and new efforts by senior volunteers -- and establish a youth Explorer post.
Although he's been out of the police business since 1994, when he passed up a fourth term as sheriff to challenge Wes Cooley for the Republican nomination in the 2nd Congressional District, Smith's had a variety of jobs. He's sold insurance, taught sculpture, hosted a radio show and raised funds for a private school, but none of those jobs compared with being a cop.
"I didn't realize how much I missed it until you get away. I'd hear the sirens and would often tell my wife, `Honey, they're playing my song,"' he says.
Although the Talent job may sound like a come-down to some -- his $42,120 salary is almost $7,000 less than he earned in his last term as sheriff, and he now supervises five officers and a clerk instead of an $8.2 million budget -- Smith doesn't see it that way.
"I have the opportunity to build a whole new department the way I want. I couldn't do that before," he says, citing the difficulty of working for change when burdened with a large bureaucracy.
A whole new department is exactly what the embattled Talent City Council wanted when it voted unanimously to hire Smith last August, following months of turmoil about police personnel and practices that left the mayor and five council members facing recall.
Right after his swearing in, Councilwoman Joi Riley called Smith "a Renaissance cowboy" whose emphasis on community policing matched the city's requirements for their new chief. His popularity with Jackson County voters was also a big plus.
"He's loved. Everybody loves him," she said.
Such choruses of praise following his swearing-in have been echoed in a drawerful of cards Smith has received in the weeks since, many containing the declaration, "You're just what Talent needed."
That sentiment reverberated through Talent Elementary School on a recent morning when the chief dropped by to visit two fifth-grade classes participating in the DARE drug-abuse prevention program.
Principal Jeff Fagan bounced out of his office when he spotted Smith in the hall, and one teacher who's also a Talent resident stopped to take his hand: "I'm so glad you're in Talent. Thank you for being here."
On the night of his hiring, Smith promised to spend time in the schools as part of his plans for turning around Talent's troubled department by adopting a strategy of community policing.
"The police force should have a personal and close relationship with people who are in the community, even people who are in trouble," he explains.
Emphasizing early intervention, referrals to social service agencies and frequent follow-up, community policing has swept the nation in recent years and is reminiscent of a bygone era's walking-the-beat policing where the neighborhood cop knew everybody.
"It's basically getting out of the damned car," he says, confessing to being troubled by the media image of cops that may give recruits "a preconceived notion of what we should be -- a big macho thing -- and looking down on the social-work aspect that's part of it."
Although Talent's police officers won't be specifically trained in the concept until later this year, Smith's approach to his job is classic community policing.
He supports the DARE program, which he introduced in Jackson County, and despite recent news reports questioning the effectiveness of the program, remains a big booster for two reasons. First, DARE is preventive, delivering an "intensive" anti-drug message over 18 weeks, and second, DARE allows every public school student to have a personal relationship with a police officer.
That personal touch, something the personable Smith has been known for since his politicking days, is at the heart of community policing.
After noticing a severely disturbed and withdrawn child on a school visit, Smith followed up by finding out if the state Children's Services Division was aware of the case. And on the way back to his office, he swung by Library Park to check on the welfare of two 17-year-olds who'd drifted over from Ashland and had been hanging around the park for a few days.
"I just can't figure out where they've been sleeping," he explains. "We can't figure out why nobody wants them. They're cast-off kids."
The plight of America's kids is a big concern for this father of three, who bemoans a juvenile justice system that often leaves police handcuffed.
"We don't do enough in our society to protect our children," he says. "We can't even pick up a runaway. There's nothing wrong with putting a child in protective custody in a juvenile facility where they can be treated."
Community policing means Talent kids will be getting a new kind of treatment from the city's police force -- warnings and citations for those who violate ordinances about skateboarding and litter, visits to parents of "street urchins" who behave obnoxiously in the city center.
"Warnings are over, especially in the core area. We've warned them enough. The point is they were being tolerated," he says.
That zero-tolerance attitude toward petty offenses is getting credit for dramatic declines in crime rates in cities such as New York, and Talent's cops will bring it to bear across the city. Parking violations, stored vehicles, loose dogs and attractive nuisances will be targeted for special attention, Smith said.
His marching orders to his force are simple: "If you make a stop, take action. That's what you're getting paid for. You're not just going to do a report and walk away."
The changes at Talent's police department will soon extend beyond practices and into personnel. The retirements of two officers offer a chance to replace 40 percent of the staff, and Smith hopes to recruit a minority officer fluent in Spanish.
"You'll probably see a very diverse police force in the future," he tells a group of Talent business people who've gathered for lunch at the Old Town Bistro and greeted his introduction with a round of applause.
Such visits are also part of community policing, which eventually will take him to service clubs such as the Lions and Jaycees and into every business in town.
At each stop, he delivers the same message, explaining the concept of community policing and reviewing what he's done and plans to do, before reminding his audience: "My office is always open. My shutters are never closed when I am there."
