Fresh out of the Memphis Police Acadamy, Officer Derrik Meyers knew that he wanted to make Memphis a better place. He had chosen the right profession, and he has chosen The University of Memphis to protect.
Along with 25 officers with nearly 200 years of combined experience in police work between them, Meyers and the campus police represent and maintain the vast responsibility to "protect and serve" the 20,301 students at The U of M.
Last Friday, a reporter from the Daily Helmsman accompanied Lt. Meyers on his patrol to observe a day in the life of the U of M police.
At 6:30 p.m., armed with my PaperMate flex grip pen and notepad, Meyers with his .45 caliber pistol and mace, the patrol begins.
Before I have a chance to fasten my seatbelt, the dispatcher chimes in: "Officers respond to Richardson Towers. ...odor of marijuana coming from a room."
We arrive, the elevator doors open, BING, and the pungent odor of marijuana encompasses the entire floor (accompanied by a slight hint of potpourri spray). Upon receiving consent to search the room, officers find empty baggies containing the remnants of marijuana, rolling papers, and a check that had been reported stolen. When asked what the student-residents were burning, they respond, "Incense."
When asked why they did not respond to knocks on the door, they respond, "We didn't hear you." Campus police have since turned the matter over to University officials for disciplinary action.
At 7:20 p.m., the alarm at the Meeman Journalism building goes off--computer malfunction.
In between calls, during the time when police are patroling the 217-acre campus and surrounding areas, is when the true effectiveness of the campus police emerges.
"We almost always catch the real bad ones while we are on patrol," Meyers says. "We see a suspicious looking person, we check it out."
With five officers buzzing around campus on a cool clear Memphis night, the campus parking lots become the primary focal point.
A basketball game between Raleigh-Egypt and White Station high schools has been underway since 7 p.m. The Elma Roane field house overflows with spectators and the parking lots with their cars.
While violent crimes are relatively uncommon on campus, the number of cars stolen or vandalized on campus is rising at an alarming rate.
"It's a Memphis problem. The city has one of the highest car theft rates in the country and car thieves do not take exception to higher education," Meyers says.
Officers cruise through the dimly lit lots around Zach Curlin--nothing out of the ordinary--no broken glass - good news.
Everything is generally routine for little more than an hour.
Officers respond to a couple of malfunctioning alarms, and stop a couple cars for traffic violations.
At 9 p.m., the high school basketball game concludes, and the relatively "slow night," quickly turns into a circus-like environment.
As the officers sett up to ease the congested traffic, a fire alarm is pulled.
The seemingly endless stream of vehicles exiting the lots make it difficult for the Memphis Fire Department response team to reach the scene.
After a lengthy and laborious effort, MFD units make it through. False alarm--someone has literally ripped the fire alarm pull lever off the wall. The MFD is unable to turn off the deafening alarm, so the campus police, with a little ingenuity, solve the problem.
At 10:40 p.m., with the fans dispersed, officers continue to patrol. All is well on campus.
At 10:45 p.m., officers Tony Black and Jayson Fernandez call for backup. Two vehicles are traveling at a high rate of speed, side by side, down Patterson Ave. The vehicles are reportedly driving at such an accelerated speed that it takes police nearly a mile to catch up after the initial sighting.
The U of M squad car lurches forward and the pursuit begins. Sirens blare, the two vehicles--a Honda Accord and a Ford Mustang--pull over. Both drivers are taken into custody.
"Just a typical Friday night," Meyers says.
Shaking his head, Meyers questions the logic of pitting an Accord against a Mustang in a road race, especially when lives are in possible danger.
It is now midnight. This marks the end of my involvement. It has been a relatively slow night for the campus police, according to Meyers, and they have just reached the midpoint of their 12-hour shifts.
"We are just getting started," says an officer.
But I have seen enough.
High speed pursuits, a drug bust, the thunderous tones of alarms and sirens continuously piercing the night, and the endless search for criminal activity, are all are all part of the effort to make The U of M a better place--all in a days work for the University of Memphis campus police.
