Most of us know the feeling. One minute we are enjoying a party (perhaps having a bit too much fun), and the next, the crowd suddenly goes silent as a policeman appears in the doorway. I believe the word is "busted."
Run-ins like this are the only contact that many of us have with the State College Police Department. Born from these contacts, perceptions that local law enforcement is out of touch with youth, and there only to catch minors with alcohol or hassle fun-loving party-goers, become common. So do the jabs.
"I smell bacon. Hey pig. Five-O. Come on, let him go!" These are the sounds of Saturday night from inside a squad car. Spend some quality time with our men in blue, though, and you will likely discover just how wrong these perceptions are.
From 11 p.m. to 3 a.m. last Saturday, I went on patrol with a State College police officer. What I learned surprised me, and should be a reminder to us all. Though we may easily forget, our parents were right - policemen are our friends.
Far from being an out of touch and bad-tempered bully, the officer with whom I spent Saturday night understood his "clientele." I am young too, he explained, and I understand a lot of the things that go on at this age.
More than citing an underage drinker or breaking up a noisy party, he was concerned with making sure everyone was safe. During one of our stops, we met a group staggering students with a droopy body slung across their shoulders. The officer first questioned the birthday girl (she was celebrating her 21st) to make sure she was conscious. He then instructed the group to take her directly home and let her sleep. She knew where she was and what had happened, he told me, I just wanted to make sure she didn't need an ambulance.
No citations. No fines. Just a routine precaution taken for her benefit.
Unfortunately, not all events that night were so peaceful. Bar fights erupted as customers left for home. Again demonstrating his knowledge of our college population, the officer detailed some of the common conflict starters: Some guy will be on his way home and see his ex-girlfriend with another guy, or someone will call someone else a name, and sparks tend to fly.
On this night, as predicted, sparks flew. While rolling down College Avenue, the officer jerked the car into park and ran toward a downtown bar where a fight had broken out. Before I knew it, a rowdy bargoer was sitting in the backseat in handcuffs. Angry and intoxicated, the agitator hollered at the officer insisting he was innocent.
Despite the arguing, the officer was remarkably patient and tried repeatedly to explain the situation. He even obliged when the bargoer asked to have his handcuffs loosened.
For us, whose snapshots of our law enforcers come mainly from party busts and television shows such as Cops, these images must seem unexpected. But even beyond his even dealings with those who had pressed their luck too far, this officer recognized that responsible partying could be fun. As we passed a house framed by tiki torches and bed sheets, he chuckled.
"Toga party," he told me. "Those are fun."
Most of all, this officer was happy working in State College. I asked if he ever got tired of dealing with the weekend party crowd.
He replied that though at times the job can seem like "glorified babysitting," he enjoys working with the college-age crew. In other towns, he explained, things are pretty dead after midnight. Here they are just getting started.
Though it may be easy to see police as spoilers of unbridled fun, we must remind ourselves that their presence is essential.
And though it may be easy to stereotype cops as hard-headed party busters lacking empathy for students, we must remember that in most cases, they know us better than we know them.
