When you first met Jim Lewis you were likely to notice his prominent, Roman nose. It gave his face character in contrast to his calm and easy-going nature. Jim’s casual confidence was of great value when he worked the streets of Tacoma as a patrol officer and field training instructor, as a member of the department’s search and rescue team, and, in his last assignment, as a motorcycle traffic officer.

On April 27, 2004, Jim Lewis was speeding down a Tacoma street with his lights and sirens activated when a motorist pulled out in front of him. Jim died in …

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Traditionally speaking, the arrival of March 17 on the calendar brings a few things to mind. March Madness, brackets and rabid basketball fans. Spring training, torrential downpours and frozen little leaguers. Two days past the Ides of March, Caesar’s ghost at rest again.

And, of course, it’s Saint Patrick’s Day. Which means that it is time to put on something green, head down to the pub, drink to excess and, if you’re very lucky, get into a fight. That is certainly the traditional way to celebrate this pseudo-holiday, at least in America.

In Ireland, a country from which my father …

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This column was written several days ago, but publication was held up due to the loss of Internet connection. The irony was not lost on me…

When my kids and I disagree on an issue, it usually can be explained by the gender gap. I prefer Van Halen to Kanye West; they prefer their pants to hang low, while I prefer the waist line of my pants to reside at, well, my waist. Usually, though, we find room for compromise.

But there is one item that will forever separate my kids’ views from my own. Snow.

When the word came down …

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Never did I think it would come this quickly.

When writing the last column of 2011, wherein I juxtaposed the nationwide decline in crime versus the sharp increase in violent cop-killing, I never would have imagined that one of the first headlines of the new year would read: “Mount Rainier ranger slain; killer escapes into woods”.

National Park Service Ranger Margaret Anderson, a federal law enforcement officer working at Mount Rainier National Park, was gunned down New Year’s Day by a subject already sought in an earlier shooting that left four …

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A bulletproof vest really keeps the heat in, especially when it’s stuck inside a uniform consisting of wool shirt and pants. Which is why, on an unseasonably hot Spring day, I was so ticked off when the young gang-banger I was about to arrest took off running.

I’ll admit that it’s tough to give up a decade (or three) in age in a sprint, especially when it might culminate in a wrestling match. But cops do have one advantage: The gang-banger’s uniform is worse than ours.

I refer to the sagging pants.

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A reader sent me the below story, which I believe was printed in the Augusta (GA) Beacon on an unknown date. I wasn’t able to find it online, so I can not speak to its veracity. If it is true, then kudos to the USMC and the Augusta P.D. police spokesperson whose tongue-in-cheek response is priceless.  (Note: I posted a copy of the article from my Apple computer and it failed to transfer so have transcribed it here–where is Steve Jobs when you need him?)

Assailant suffers injuries from fall

Orville Smith, a store manager for Best Buy in Augusta, GA., told police he observed a male customer, later identified as Tyrone Jackson of Augusta, on surveillance cameras putting a laptop computer under his jacket. Read more »

Every now and then someone will decide I need to be informed about a particular legal loophole or fact that I somehow missed during my police career. While I am always eager to learn, I usually find myself inserting mental air quotes around such “facts.”

For instance, did you know that if you put a penny in your mouth you can defeat a breathalyzer?

Yes, I’ve heard about that. Piece of advice, though- when you get popped for your DUI and are directed to empty the contents of your mouth, call Mary at the public defender’s office. She’s cranky at 2AM, but very nice in court. And tell her I said hello.

Despite almost rupturing my eyeball from excessive eye-rolling everytime I hear this myth, it’s not too dangerous.

But then there’s this one: Did you know that if there’s a trespasser in your house you can shoot him?

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Crack, thud, boom. Here we go again.

At the risk of sounding like the Grinch of Independence Day, I really hate fireworks. I hate the bottle rockets and roman candles, the smoke bombs and spinners, the fountains and the flares. Most of all, I hate the fuses which always seem to provide one second less than you need to make a clean getaway.

I’ll admit–it might be a hangup.

The street I grew up on was a war zone every Fourth of July. Sparklers were used for poking and proding people smaller than you, bottle rockets were typically pointed in horizontal directions, and smoke bombs were never lit until about one second before you stuffed them in your buddy’s pocket.

Then one year I accidentally set my sister’s hair on fire, and I have never enjoyed fireworks since. She got better, but now every July she makes sure to keep at least one state between us.

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