When at least a couple of lawsuits were filed against Little Rock's police department for hiding its radio transmissions from the listening public--the technical term for it is encrypting them--a spokescop for the department, Lt. Sidney Allen, sounded surprised: "We anticipated that there'd be some hobbyists and [a] few people that wanted to listen to the radio . . . As far as lawsuits, we were hoping [resistance] wouldn't rise to that level."
Really? You'd think a lieutenant in a police department that's supposed to be emphasizing community policing these days--that is, staying in touch with the community it polices--would know that community better.
Did the lieutenant really think that only a few hobbyists, like newspaper reporters for example, ever listened to Little Rock's police radio? Yet it always comes as a surprise to the people who don't know Little Rock and its public very well that the state's capital city is just full of folks who are not just curious about what's going on in their city, but public-spirited enough to keep up with what their public servants are doing, including those who are supposed to be looking out for their safety. That is, serving and protecting them.
It always helps folks to know things like who's on the loose out there, where a car wreck has tied up traffic in the neighborhood, or when crime has struck nearby again--whether a simple burglary or a horrendous homicide. And police radio, like a daily newspaper, is one of those handy things that keeps a community a community, that is, alert to what's going on in town.
In a line that's become a cliché, Captain Renault of Casablanca's Finest tells our hero Rick, the nightclub owner, "I'm shocked, shocked to find that gambling is going on in here!" That would be just before the ever-suave captain is handed his winnings at the roulette table that evening.
The only shocking thing about Lieutenant Allen's comment is that he was doubtless sincere when he made it. Sincerely out of touch with his town.
Editorial on 09/16/2014