In many ways, parole officers are social workers with
a badge. They're supposed to help bad guys (and gals)
break the cycle of crime. In some cases, that means officers
like Lucinda Carroll and Carrie Hansen must make unannounced
house calls in the seedier sections of Forest Grove, North
Plains and other Washington County cities.
Hansen and Carroll say they regularly find illegal
drugs, arms caches and paroled sex offenders living
with minors. In fact, the pair estimate that one-third
of home visits to offenders in Washington County turn
up parole and probation violations. If the violation
is severe enough, the POs--who are sworn peace officers--are
supposed to make an arrest on the spot.
"I can take away their freedom," Carroll says. "Some
of them don't like that."
And that can present a problem. Because unlike every
other county in Oregon, Washington County does not allow
its parole and probation officers to carry firearms
or pepper spray. The POs are mad enough about it that
their union, the Federation of Oregon Parole and Probation
Officers, filed an unfair labor practice complaint in
September.
What the issue boils down to is a debate over safety.
Washington County's 30 POs say they want the option
to carry weapons; more gang members and violent parolees
have moved into the area. The county, on the other hand,
argues that, despite rising crime, POs are actually
safer without guns.
Carroll, the parole officers' union representative
in Washington County, says department administrators
are stuck in a time warp. Although state police records
show that violent crime in the county has increased
17 percent since 1990, "the county doesn't want to accept
that times have changed," she says. "They don't want
to accept that we have big-city problems out here."
Community corrections director John Hartner agrees
crime is rising in the silicon suburbs, but he pegs
the increase to the region's population boom and insists
POs are better off not packing heat. "If the offender
knows you're armed and he wants to get away, his reaction
would be to pick up a weapon," he says. If an offender
turns violent, Hartner says, he wants his POs to clear
the scene, not pull a gun.
Instead, Hartner says POs can reduce risks to their
safety in two ways. First, they can ask offenders to
come into the office to be interviewed. Second, they
can request that a city police officer or county sheriff's
deputy join them on a home visit.
Carroll and Hansen agree that office visits work for
some offenders, but others need to be checked up on
in a home environment. "You can't supervise a sex offender
from the office," Hansen says.
Police backup, they say, is often impractical. Parole
officers are sometimes asked to arrange backup weeks
in advance, only to have the cops cancel at the last
minute to attend to more pressing matters. "We're then
put in the position of not supervising parolees," Carroll
says. "But the public thinks that we are. That's what
they're paying us to do."
The county's stance is simply out of touch with street
reality, she adds. "Come on, even letter carriers carry
pepper spray."
Washington County Sheriff Jim Spinden agrees. "They're
at substantial risk of personal injury, because you
never know what's going to happen," he says. "Let me
put it this way: 99 percent of my deputies don't go
anywhere without a gun, even off-duty."
Hartner says he's just doing what's best for the officers,
but Hansen says there's an element of sexism at play--23
of the county's 30 POs are women. She says the POs'
request to carry sidearms is being blocked by "males
who think we shouldn't be doing this work anyway."
Charles Cameron, the county's chief administrator,
supports Hartner: "Anyone who thinks they're safer having
a gun on their hip--well, that's not a conclusion we're
ready to arrive at."
The county's recalcitrance is all the more puzzling,
however, given the experience of other Oregon POs.
It's been 2 1/2 years since the Multnomah
County Department of Juvenile and Adult Community Justice
gave its POs the option to carry .40-caliber Glocks
and pepper spray. Half the county's 135 POs pack heat
and all of them carry pepper spray.
In that time, no POs have had their weapons snatched
from them by angry offenders, says Jim Rood, the agency's
deputy director, and there have been no injuries. In
fact, no officer has ever even discharged a sidearm,
he adds, and the most common victims of pepper spray
have been aggressive pit bulls.
Nevertheless, Multnomah County sees to it that its
POs put in almost as much time--four days a year--on
the firing range and in weapons training classes as
do Portland police officers.
Rood says he doesn't want to second-guess Washington
County's policy, but he adds that "arming POs is a national
trend."
Carroll says Washington County is second-guessing fate.
"The county is gambling that nothing bad will ever happen
to one of us," she says. "But POs don't want to be there
when the county loses that bet."
At this point, Tom Brian, Washington County chairman,
says he doesn't want to micro-manage the situation.
But if the County Commission needs to become involved,
the former deputy sheriff favors giving POs the option
to arm themselves "under certain strict conditions."
- - - - - - - - - - - -
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Willamette Week | originally
published December 15,
1999
