wife of rookie cop has scanner
The Rookie
After a year on the street, Officer Wyatt has learned many lessons
"Every run I go on, I get a little more confident. … Seems like it
slowly, gradually just became that way," said Officer Brian Wyatt, who
checked out a motorist in the parking lot at Valley High School during
one of his nights on patrol.
(PHOTOS BY KEITH WILLIAMS, THE
COURIER-JOURNAL)
Officer Brian Wyatt questioned a suspect in a holding cell concerning a
shooting that had occurred in Wyatt's southwestern patrol district. "I
try to do anything I can to give the police department a good name," he
said, adding that having to worry about public scrutiny was an
unanticipated aspect of the job. "I just thought you'd go to work and
come home." Instead, "everybody's eyes are on you all the time."
By Jessie Halladay
jhalladay at courier-journal.com
The Courier-Journal
In the past six months, Brian Wyatt has rescued three people from a
burning building, shot a Taser at a hostile suspect and fired beanbag
rounds at an armed man threatening suicide.
But many nights, the rookie officer simply cruises darkened streets in
his southwestern patrol district and, when it's slow, writes parking
tickets.
"I get itchin'," Wyatt said after a recent slow shift. "I can't sit
still."
Wyatt says his just-ended probationary year was one of learning --
poring over a map of tiny neighborhood streets until he knew them,
figuring out the daily routine of roll call and paperwork, getting
comfortable taking reports, talking with people in distress and
arresting wrongdoers.
"I've learned much more on my own than when I was in training," he said.
It's been a year of continuing challenges for the entire department:
Four times, police have shot at people who they say were brandishing
weapons; two of those suspects were killed. Last month four officers
were fired for allegedly assaulting a man in custody; a handful of
others have been suspended.
Through it all, Wyatt and his superiors say his focus has been steady.
"You can see that he's obviously like a sponge," learning everything he
can, said Sgt. Chris Boyer, a supervisor.
Wyatt, for his part, says he no longer feels like a rookie: "Every run I
go on, I get a little more confident. ? Seems like it slowly, gradually
just became that way."
The fire
Wyatt was on patrol on a cold December morning when he saw a hint of
smoke coming from the roof of a run-down motel in the 12000 block of
Dixie Highway.
Doubling back, he found smoke billowing from the building. He'd been to
this motel before and knew people lived there, so he started banging on
doors, using his flashlight to make a louder noise.
At the fourth door, a sleepy man answered. His room was filling with
smoke.
Wyatt and Officer Jeff Hodge, who'd showed up to help, started kicking
open doors, eventually rousing three people.
"I really do feel strongly that the first guy I got out ? would have
died of smoke inhalation," Wyatt said a couple of weeks after the event.
"I just happened to be in the right place at the right time."
Boyer credits Wyatt's keen observation and a concern for people's
well-being. Boyer later nominated Wyatt and Hodge for department
life-saving awards, which they will receive at a ceremony tonight.
"Both officers put themselves in harm's way as they cleared all the
rooms throughout the motel," Boyer wrote in his nomination. "I have no
doubt that these officers' actions saved the lives of the residents of
this motel."
Boyer said in an interview that Wyatt's actions that night were typical
of the way he approaches his job.
"He's making this run and paying attention to what's going on around
him," Boyer said recently. "That's amazing to me that he was able to do
that with as little time as he has on the department."
Beanbag incident
On Dec. 27, Wyatt arrived at a scene where a man was holed up in his
home holding a gun to his head.
Officers from Wyatt's platoon gathered outside; he had a shotgun loaded
with beanbag rounds. For about an hour, Wyatt and other officers watched
the man frantically talking with dispatchers on the phone.
"I could see him putting his finger on the trigger," Wyatt said. "I
really thought he was going to shoot himself."
When the man started waving the gun in the air, Wyatt was ordered to
shoot through a broken window in the rear door.
"The only thing I had a shot at was his left shoulder," Wyatt said. He
fired three times, until the man dropped his gun and officers could rush
in to subdue him.
While being taken to the hospital, the man thanked him for ending the
situation without bloodshed, Wyatt said.
Wyatt recalled the experience as an adrenaline rush, with a thousand
thoughts running through his head.
"I don't want to miss this guy and make a fool of myself," Wyatt said.
"And I don't want him to turn around and shoot my fellow officers."
Firing a Taser
Wyatt was part of the first academy class where everyone was certified
to respond as part of a crisis intervention team, or CIT. As such, he
answers many calls involving emotionally disturbed people or those
wanted on mental inquest warrants.
Last fall, CIT officers were the first to receive Tasers to use in the
field. Wyatt said he believes the weapon will reduce injuries to
officers and suspects.
"It's one of the best tools on my belt," Wyatt said, citing an incident
that occurred just after 3 a.m. Jan. 5.
Knocking on the door of an apartment where a domestic dispute was
reported, he and Officer Sonny Poteet were met with profanities from a
man inside.
Once inside, the cussing escalated to verbal threats. Then the man,
fists clenched, came at the officers, according to their incident
report.
Wyatt unholstered his Taser and told the man he would use it. Wyatt said
more threats prompted him to fire -- "I shot him right in the chest."
The man fell to the ground but kept fighting, so Wyatt shocked him
again; he then could be handcuffed, Wyatt said.
The Taser, he added, "worked awesome."
The 41-year-old man was charged with disorderly conduct and terroristic
threatening. The case is pending.
Deadly force
Four times since Wyatt hit the streets on his own, other officers have
shot armed suspects.
In an interview later, Wyatt recalled sitting in his patrol car on Jan.
6, hearing radio traffic of an officer in trouble. At first he couldn't
tell who had been shot.
"It does something to you anytime you hear another officer in distress,"
Wyatt said, adding that he had been ready to drive across the county to
help. "It's different than any other job."
He would learn that Officer Christopher Aebersold had shot and wounded
19-year-old Brayden Adrio, who police say was coming at the officer with
an ax.
"I didn't sleep for a couple of nights" after that, Wyatt said, adding
that he thought both about Adrio's father seeing his son shot and what
it would be like to be Aebersold.
He said he worries about the impact police shootings have in the
community. "I don't think about me," he said, "but overall, the
department, the image, what (the community) thinks about us."
He's disappointed that even family members question officers' use of
deadly force -- his father-in-law asked him why officers don't just
shoot suspects in the leg or arm, or use a Taser.
"Even my own family," Wyatt said, "nobody understands."
Working the overnight shift, Wyatt's routine generally is to arrive on
Dixie Highway at division headquarters a few minutes before the 11 p.m.
roll call, where he gets instructions and shares a few laughs with
co-workers.
Once on the street, he generally gasses up his car, grabs a cup of
coffee and starts answering dispatch runs. Many shifts finish off at
Jessie's Family Restaurant on Dixie Highway, where Wyatt meets with
fellow officers and often eats a bacon-cheeseburger for breakfast.
Fellow officers say Wyatt is a quick learner.
"He's seasoned way beyond his time," said Dale Fryrear, who often is
Wyatt's partner. "I wouldn't consider him a rookie. He's proved that.
He'll be looked at as an old guy pretty soon."
Wyatt said he's eager to be involved, often responding to help fellow
officers on calls. But it's important to treat people well, he said, so
he tries not to rush through even routine runs.
"I try to do anything I can to give the police department a good name,"
he said, adding that having to worry about public scrutiny was an
unanticipated aspect of the job.
"I just thought you'd go to work and come home," he said. Instead,
"everybody's eyes are on you all the time."
Because of that, he tries hard to keep his job separate from his home
life. He doesn't like to go out in uniform when he's not on duty. He
doesn't drive his children around in his patrol car.
He will make an exception for his 7-year-old daughter, Kaylee, who likes
it when Daddy comes to school in uniform to have lunch with her. Wyatt
and his wife, Lisa, also have a 3-year-old daughter, Leah.
Lisa Wyatt says this first year has been a learning process for her as
well. For example, she's finally gotten used to being alone at night; a
new house alarm gives some late-night peace of mind.
When she goes to bed, she brings the police scanner with her, listening
for her husband's number to be broadcast.
"I've adjusted," she said. "But I still worry."
Overall, Brian Wyatt says the job is better than he expected.
Eventually, he thinks he'll try to join a specialty unit, but for now,
"I just hope I'm helping people."
Having worked earlier in construction and at a body shop, Wyatt said he
expects to be a police officer until he retires.
"No more career changes for me," he said. "I don't know how you could
just stop doing this job."
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