Growing up in a safe community like Flin Flon, it was easy for me to place police officers on a pedestal.
I viewed every cop as the pinnacle of altruism. These were modern-day heroes in a world succumbing to moral decay.
With the news (and YouTube) now dominated by cell phone videos showcasing acts of brutality by cops, I can no longer wear the rose-coloured glasses of my youth.
Truth be told, I hadn’t donned those glasses in some time.
As a member of the news media who has dealt with the RCMP for many years, I have been asked whether I have observed anything resembling police aggression in Flin Flon and area.
My answer is no. But if I’m honest, there was one incident of overzealousness that still bothers me.
It was the summer of 2007, the day after a helicopter crashed off of the Sherridon road outside Flin Flon, killing the pilot and his passenger.
I had received a call from Global News out of Winnipeg asking if I could supply a photo of the crash scene. Knowing that the men who tragically died in the mishap had been removed from the scene, I agreed to see what I could do.
I drove to the Sherridon turnoff and proceeded down the gravel road. A few minutes later, I spotted a group of people near a bush trail off the side of the road. “That must be it,” I thought.
I turned around the next chance I got and when I returned to the trail entrance, no one was around. I walked down the trail and came across an open area surrounded by yellow police tape.
In the middle of the yellow-tape border were small remnants of the helicopter. Without crossing the tape, I took a few photos.
I walked back down the trail to my command-started vehicle. Where there was no one just moments earlier there were now people – including an RCMP officer wearing sunglasses.
“TURN THE VEHICLE OFF NOW!” he yelled at me.
Rattled, I fumbled with my keys and kept pressing what I thought was the “off” button. The vehicle, a rental, continued running.
The officer again demanded I turn off the vehicle. Panicked, I told him I didn’t know how. I think I finally just handed him the key fob and told him to do it.
With the engine roar no longer distracting him, the officer launched into his questions. The unspoken implication – or perhaps it was spoken, as this was quite a while ago – was that I had broken the law.
I don’t know if you’ve ever had a cop yell at you or accuse you of a crime, but it is very unsettling. Even if you’ve done nothing wrong, you feel guilty.
The officer soon cooled down but still felt necessary to ask me whether I had taken any “souvenirs” from the crash site, as if I’m some sort of nutcase who collects mementos from accident scenes. Besides, he had seen me walk out of the bush empty-handed.
I assured the officer I had not disturbed the scene in any way. I also offered to erase the photos I had snapped for Global News, photos I was never that crazy about taking in the first place.
The officer said he could not tell me to delete the photos, so I said I was doing so voluntarily. I guess I still felt guilty and wanted to show that I was one of the good guys.
Soon I was on my way, but later, when I replayed what had happened in my mind, I felt mistreated.
What had I done wrong? I walked down an empty trail in the bush. When I saw police tape, I did not cross it. When I was asked an insulting question about a “souvenir,” I answered it respectfully.
My encounter with that one officer on that one day was not typical. From my experience, the Mounties we’ve had in Flin Flon and area have been overwhelmingly courteous, restrained and committed.
But police are only human. They won’t handle every situation with perfection. And yes, in a small percentage of circumstances, they may go too far.
When it comes to the police, we shouldn’t wear rose-coloured glasses, as those ubiquitous cell phone videos demonstrate.
But nor should we have tunnel vision and assume that all cops are bad. That’s a much more twisted misconception.
Local Angle runs Fridays.
