The prospect of a waiting cruiser can be a powerful deterrent for would-be drunk drivers. Prevention, the saying goes, is the best cure. It’s not dramatic or glamorous, but on a cool Saturday night in July, prevention will have to do.
Damariscotta Police Officer Aaron Beck usually works Thursday through Sunday, 4 p.m. to 2 a.m. “I like 4-2,” Beck said. “It’s the busiest. After two, it’s kind of dead.”
The night of July 9, however, the department is short-handed, and Beck is working noon to midnight.
The first nine hours of his shift pass without incident.
Beck files reports and patrols, with agencies across the county, for a suspect in a domestic incident in Waldoboro. The suspect later returns home. It’s a typical outcome for the day.
From 9 p.m. until the end of his shift, Beck is on the street, behind the wheel of the department’s late model Dodge Charger. He cruises with the car’s radar equipment off, only flicking it on for a moment as each car passes.
It’s a common way police outsmart radar detectors, Beck explained. The detectors can’t pick up on the equipment if it’s off, and by the time the officer turns it on, it’s too late to slow down or change course.
Beck changes his habits while on the lookout for speeders. Sometimes, he’ll wait in plain sight at a busy intersection. Other times, even the most perceptive driver would be lucky to spot the Charger lurking in the shadows of a parking lot, partially obscured by trees or buildings.
In addition to traffic violations, Beck is on the lookout for possible OUI (operating under the influence) offenders.
This year, Beck said, he has yet to see any unusual uptick – or decline – in OUIs. Personally, he’s made three OUI arrests in 2011, plus three more “administrative” OUIs.
The latter term refers to underage drivers who, while not over the legal limit for adults, are nonetheless in violation of the law for drinking and driving.
The legal limit for underage drivers is zero, and two of Beck’s three administrative OUIs – the technical term is “operating beyond license restrictions” – registered only a 0.01 blood alcohol content (BAC). The legal limit for adults is 0.08.
9:36 p.m.: A call comes over the radio for a “possible prowler” at an apartment on Sprague Road in Nobleboro. Beck drives to the corner of Belvedere and Sprague, where a small bridge marks the Damariscotta-Nobleboro town line, to stand by. Moments later, Lincoln County Sheriff’s Office Deputy Kevin Dennison arrives.
Beck follows Dennison up the long, narrow drive, shining his spotlight on what appears to be an abandoned Chevrolet pickup truck in a roadside field. A deer darts in front of Dennison’s car.
The officers arrive at the apartment in question and, after conferring briefly, spread out on either side, proceeding with caution and shining their flashlights into the woods.
Moments later, after speaking with the resident, the officers leave with a diagnosis: the “prowler” was likely the deer they saw on the way in.
Prowler or no prowler, Beck applauds the resident for contacting law enforcement. Often, citizens hesitate to call the police because they “don’t want to bother” them, Beck said. The police, however, want citizens to call. It’s their job, after all, and the tips of helpful, watchful citizens are invaluable to police.
“Things get solved faster and a lot of things get prevented when citizens get involved,” Beck said.
Parents, in particular, can help the police immensely just by getting (and staying) involved with their kids, Beck said. Parent involvement can help stem underage drinking, a major issue in Lincoln County.
Prescription drug abuse is another concern locally. Beck lists off the incidents where in several recent cases, parents have served as the catalyst for, instead of the defender against, prescription drug abuse. Last month, a juvenile offender out on probation failed a routine drug test, testing positive for morphine, a powerful prescription narcotic. The boy confessed to receiving the drug from his mother.
The story mirrors that of a Great Salt Bay Community School eighth grader arrested this winter after allegedly selling oxycodone pills – obtained from his mother – to his classmates.
In another case, the police found methadone – another narcotic, although it’s also used to treat withdrawal symptoms in heroin addicts – on a local juvenile.
The boy admitted to receiving the potent drug from his mother, who gave it to him to treat pain from surgery to remove his wisdom teeth after the boy complained that his prescription painkillers weren’t adequate.
10:11 p.m.: Beck estimates 10 p.m. to 2 a.m. is prime time for OUI.
Beck, after cruising the town again, settles at an intersection on Bristol Road and retrieves his handheld radar gun.
Occasionally, Beck suspects a passing car for one reason or another – a hunch, maybe, or perhaps, earlier in the day, he saw it parked at a house known for underage drinking.
To pull the car over, however, a police officer must first have a “reasonable, articulable suspicion,” Beck explained. Law enforcement officers can pull someone over for a vehicle defect, like a malfunctioning light, for a traffic violation or for a report of erratic operations from dispatch. Hunches – even correct hunches – don’t cut it.
10:25: Beck pays a visit to Lake Pemaquid Campground. It’s a nightly check-in, as drinking is a favorite pastime for many summer visitors to the popular campground.
It’s not just tipsy vacationers the police watch for at Lake Pemaquid. Local teenagers often rent sites during the summer as a temporary haven for underage drinking, Beck said.
The teenagers sometimes gather in a dimly lit parking lot outside the campground, and Beck checks there first, but it’s empty tonight, save for a couple of cars and discarded keg cups.
Inside the gate, Beck finds the campground’s two-man security team, who report a quiet night. The men make small talk and discuss the previous night’s campers, including a group of men security reported for smoking marijuana.
Beck wishes the men a good night and resumes his patrol of the campground. The occasional campers sit a picnic tables or stroll by the cruiser, beers in hand, but tonight they’re a peaceable lot.
After exiting the campground, Beck returns downtown, where he cruises past Schooner Landing – a band is playing tonight and the parking lot is full – and picks a spot at the intersection of Water and Main, where he offers practical advice about the consequences of drunk driving.
“It’s cheaper to pay for a taxi than to pay for a car that you total or pay fines,” Beck said. “It’s a lot easier to live with yourself if you call a friend to take you home than if you kill someone.”
11:12 p.m.: The rest of Beck’s shift is similarly quiet. If the radio is any indication, the whole county seems to be taking it easy. The night’s most brazen criminal appears to be a Southport gentleman who, in a fit of patriotic zeal, drunkenness or both, disturbs his neighbors by firing a cannon at about 11:15 p.m.
Beck checks on a vehicle in the driveway of Kat’s Kart and continues his patrol, pausing occasionally at a vacant lot or a quiet spot known to attract underage drinkers and others who don’t want to be found. They’re all empty tonight.
Beck, a former employee of Moody’s Diner – his relatives own the famous Rt. 1 eatery – and construction worker, enjoys his job. “As far back as I can remember, I always wanted to be a police officer,” he said.
Eventually, Beck, an outdoorsman in his free time, hopes to become a game warden. With a wife and 10-month-old daughter at home, there’s less time for hunting and fishing, but on quiet nights like this one, he gets plenty of practice – practice at silence, patience and camouflage.
“This job really is a lot like hunting and fishing,” Beck said.
11:48 p.m.: Beck spends the last minutes of his shift in the alley by the Colby & Gale filling station. Schooner Landing patrons drift home. A 30-something-year-old man wobbles visibly, but he doesn’t get in a car, so it’s alright with Beck.
Two middle-aged men, obviously tourists, ask Beck where they can get a bite to eat. ‘Does it always shut down this early?’ the pedestrians ask before heading back in the direction of Schooner Landing.
At midnight, Beck returns to the station. He hasn’t pulled anyone over, issued a summons, made an arrest or executed a search all night. It’s a quiet night, and a safe one.
“I guess that means we’re doing our job,” Beck said.
