Saturday, January 9, 2016

Farewell Eric Biskup 1966-2016

Eric Biskup became a mentor for me when I started learning to dispatch police at the Key West Police Department. He sat me down and explained that being wordy is bad, being on point is good and keeping track of what everyone is doing is critical. There was lots more advice from a veteran police officer but he got me going that night basically telling the wordy one to keep it short. Talking on the radio wasn't a problem for me, a former radio reporter, but figuring out the nuances of police work and police radio work was all new. And over those first few months in the summer of 2004, between hurricanes, he helped me learn to figure it out. One night I came to work and he showed me the best use for a police baton, moving a snake I had stumbled across out of the police station lobby.
Biskup was, as they used to say sui generis his own man and they broke the mold after they made him. 
And as if to prove the point, who better to tell that story than Dennis Reeves Cooper who wrote a story in the Blue Paper in 2009 about a ride he took with Eric Biskup. Biskup has been involved in several high profile stories involving the department over the many years and Reeves Cooper was implacable in his criticism of Key West PD. Until he rode along with Biskup and wrote it up in Key West The News (KWTN) his biweekly broadsheet. Here is an excerpt :
If you are a regular reader of KWTN,
you know that we have often editorially asked this
question: “We live in a small town. Why do we have
some police officers who seem to want to arrest everybody?
Except for obvious exceptions, why can’t
our cops approach most situations with the attitude
of trying NOT to arrest people?
Well, imagine my surprise when, as I watched Officer Biskup work, I heard
him saying to people more
than once, something like this:
“Okay, ladies and gentlemen,
how can we solve this problem
without anybody going
to jail?!”

Eric Biskup, KWPD
This letter of commendation was published on the city website:



I HAD MY STORE BROKE INTO A COUPLE DAYS AGO- OFFICER ERIC BISKUP CAUGHT THE THIEF THAT GOT TO THE REGISTER ALREADY AND STOLE SOME MONEY ARRESTED HIM AND WAS IN CONTROL ON THE WHOLE SCENE BY HIMSELF, HE WAS VERY PROFESSIONAL AND ALSO VERY KIND AT THE SAME TIME TOOK HIM IN THE COP CAR AND PREVENTED OTHER BURGLARIES THE SAME NIGHT BECAUSE HE HAD A BAG FILLED WITH TOOLS PLANNING TO HAVE A LONG NIGHT.

ANY WAY I WANT TO THANK HIM FROM MY BOTTOM OF MY HEART AND MENTION THAT IS VERY GOOD TO HAVE SUCH COPS IN THE FORCE.
Eric Biskup, Key West
To me Eric embodied the qualities that all of us hope to see in a community based officer. He had an interest in his town and as the reporter discovered, a desire to solve conflict without resorting to hand cuffs. Unhappily we live in a litigious and frequently violent society and the police are caught in the middle of a struggle to maintain order and civil liberties in a country where allegiance to either seems to vacillate day to day and depending on the political mood.
Eric was a cop and through his illness he referred to himself in the present tense as a cop but he was also a human being. He rode a  Harley and he had a tortured relationship with an old Volksswagen Bug which he showed off at the Southernmost Car Club when I passed by in 2010:
Eric Biskup, Key West
He was a presence around town and in a lot of lives, and he enjoyed the perks of living in a small town and being appreciated. I was glad to help him figure out how to see London one year and he sat up in dispatch with me as I went over things to see and places to go and on that trip he made a connection with the Met, the London Police, which spread his net wider in the international bond between cops. And I dare say enriched his life as they compared notes on how it's done.
Sgt Eric Biskup, Key West Police
Reeves Cooper's article had a nice few touches to it so rather than me trying to say why Eric was, in the words of former Captain Scott Smith "the coolest cat I know," let his erstwhile nemesis in print tell the whole story of what it was like to work with the coolest cop on the beat:

For the past several weeks, I have been participating
in the Key West Police Department’s (KWPD)
Citizen Police Academy. No, I’m not making this up.
In essence, this is an enhanced orientation program—
eight two-hour evening sessions with presentations
by representatives from the various departments
within the KWPD.
This past week, we saw a taser demonstration
and we got to see one of the department’s two police
dogs in action. Next week, we are scheduled to tour
the jail and, the week after that, we are scheduled to
meet the police horses.
This is not a VIP program. Classes are scheduled
a couple of times a year and anybody can sign
up to attend. Officer Steve Torrence coordinates the
program. He said this week that the dates for the next
academy have not been set yet, but if you want to get
information or express interest in attending, his phone
number is 809-1007. His email address is storrenc@keywestcity.com.
Those who participate in this program also
have the opportunity to schedule a ride-along with
a cop. We were encouraged to do this at night. “It’s
a completely different world out there in the middle
of the night,” we were told.
When I signed up for my ride-along, I told them
that I wanted to ride with an experienced officer. Well,
you know what they say— be careful what you wish
for, you just might get it. When Officer Eric Biskup
found out that I was on the ride-along list, I’m told
that he called Steve Torrence and asked that I be assigned
to him.
If you’re a longtime reader of Key West The
Newspaper, you may recall that Biskup has been
“featured” here at least a couple of times. Back in July
2001, a family visiting from Sarasota were strolling
down Duval Street after dinner. A drunk standing in front of one of the bars said something off-color to
one of the women in the group. That confrontation
escalated into a full-blown street brawl.
Biskup was one of six cops who responded to
the scene. In the process of breaking up the fight,
Biskup was accused of beating up one of the family
members— who later sued the city and was awarded
$50,000.
Biskup was also the cop that arrested restaurateur
Bob Mongelli a couple of months ago after Mongelli
called the cops to deal with situation at a rental appartment
he owned. That court case is pending.
Well, I did go on a ride-along with Officer Biskup
and, since you are reading my report here, it is obvious
that he did not “disappear” me.
Last Saturday, I met with Biskup at the police
station for the 6 p.m. briefing. And for the next 11
hours, we were almost always busy responding to
911 calls. Right up front, he told me, “When you ride
with me, you’re out of the car when I’m out of the
car— unless somebody starts shooting at us. But I
do have an extra Kevlar vest in the trunk of the car if
you need it,” he added.
Biskup, 43, has been a cop for 16 years, most
of that time in Key West— although he started out
with a small department upstate. He also served a
short stint with the new Orleans Police Department
and was a deputy sheriff in Washington state. He is
originally from Chicago.
He is a street cop— and at 5’10,” 235 pounds,
with a shaved head, he looks the part.
Again, if you are a regular reader of KWTN,
you know that we have often editorially asked this
question: “We live in a small town. Why do we have
some police officers who seem to want to arrest everybody?
Except for obvious exceptions, why can’t
our cops approach most situations with the attitude
of trying NOT to arrest people?
Well, imagine my surprise when, as I watched Officer Biskup work, I heard
him saying to people more
than once, something like this:
“Okay, ladies and gentlemen,
how can we solve this problem
without anybody going
to jail?!”
Granted, in some of the
situations during the course of
the night, he had to sometimes
say that louder than at other
times or, maybe, even repeat
it. But at the end of the night,
he had not made even a single
arrest!
Of course, I had to wonder
if he was just putting on a
show because I was with him.
But, since then, I have had an
opportunity to ask other cops,
including the chief of police,
about Biskup’s style. They told
me that is the way he enforces
the law.
“Seasoned officers understand
that arrest is not always
necessary or prudent for
many reasons, including officer
safety,” said Chief of Police
Donie Lee. “That is certainly
my philosophy.”
Biskup’s beat last Saturday
night was Duval Street and
the surrounding area. Early
in the evening, we took a ride
down Duval. It appeared that
most of the people on the street
were out for dinner. Everybody
seemed happy. I didn’t see any
falling-down drunks.
But that was to change
over the next few hours, after
what Officer Biskup called the
“shift change,” referring to
the people on the street. Even
that early, however, Biskup
responded to a call that an
intoxicated woman had fallen
and busted her head open near
Mallory Square. We found
her sitting stoically on some
steps on Front Street, smoking
a cigarette, blood streaming
down her face. Biscup called
the paramedics, who treated
her injury and took her to the
hospital.
Later that night, Biskup
was called back to the same
area where a elderly homeless
man was reportedly having a
seizure. Biskup told me that the
old man was the “husband” of
the woman with the bleeding
face.
Later, on a routine walking
patrol of the same area,
Biskup rousted a homeless man
sleeping on the porch of the
Waterfront Playhouse. He had
gone to sleep with his trousers
down around his knees.
Earlier in the evening,
a call came in to check out a
domestic dispute at an apartment
on Whitehead Street.
A man was trying to kick his
partner out of the apartment
and the partner was refusing
to go. I noticed that after Officer
Biskup knocked on the
door, he stepped to the side. He
explained that, years ago, on a
routine call like this, somebody
inside responded to his knock
by firing a bullet through the
door.
During the call Saturday
night, the man’s partner did
agree to leave after Officer
Biskup explained the jail option
to him. Back in the car, Biskup
predicted that we would be
called back to the same address
again later in the evening. He
was right.
Still early in the evening,
Biskup responded to a
complaint from a Duval Street
store manager that a group of
rowdies were playing grabass
in front of his store, blocking the
way for customers who might
want to come in. When Biskup
confronted them, he initially
got some attitude from a couple
of the guys— until he explained
the jail option to them.
Biskup was right about
the “shift change.” Duval Street
is a whole new place in the wee
hours of the morning. During
this period, there were several
calls about people passed out
on the sidewalk.
About 3:30 a.m., we got
out of the car and Biskup
stationed himself, along with
some other officers on Duval
Street near Green. I asked about
what was going on because, if
anything, Duval seemed almost
deserted, compared to just an
hour or so earlier.
“Just wait a few minutes,”
he said.
Suddenly, Duval was
again jam-packed with people,
many of whom seemed to be
having some trouble walking.
It was 4 a.m.— and the bars
were closing.
Dennis Cooper
God speed Eric and may  flights of angels sing thee to they well earned rest.


Cheyenne On The Bridle Path

In this look back to August 2010, my first summer together with Cheyenne, she was excited to get out on her daily, sometimes twice daily walks. She was always a joy to walk, and I look back and am grateful I took took the time to be out and about with her, for myself as much as for her. I hope now that she is old and tired she remembers these walks with as much fondness as I do. 

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Bridle Coconuts

I wonder if I have overdone the scenes of blue skies, blue water and sunshine this week. In case I haven't here's one more.A cyclist riding the bike path along the southern shore of Key West would do well to stop and admire the scenery. You can't see Cuba from here, 90 miles to the south, but you can see fishing boats.The oil spilled (and some say still spilling) in the Gulf of Mexico has not reached these waters. Cheyenne is a land dog. She has learned to enjoy streams and puddles but grass and shrubs are more her speed and swimming is out of the question as she has never been trained to enjoy the water properly.The sandy bridle path alongside South Roosevelt Boulevard gives her lots of opportunity to root around.
As usual wildlife can wander unmolested in the presence of my pacific dog.The salt ponds are not suitable drinking water.The plans for the renovation and refurbishment of North Roosevelt call for the elimination of non-native coconut palms, not least because falling coconuts harm people and vehicles and coconut palms take a lot of maintenance to keep tidy. In the spirit of being good stewards of the public monies the city is asking the state to replace them with less labor intensive trees...Well, this attempt to be parsimonious with the public treasury has got the critics' panties all in a wad because they say, tourists expect to see coconut palms in the city, and damn the public expense...Tourists can come to South Roosevelt to see some coconut palms looking suitably tropical.
On the beach side there are mounds of dried seaweed that need to be ignored to enjoy the view properly.There was a time when someone figured out that you could pitch a tent on the Bridle Path and no one would bother you. No one did until a whole long line of bums in tents sprang up and the city promptly declared an emergency, designated the salt ponds an environmentally sensitive wetland and banned parking, camping, and hanging out in the bushes of the Bridle Path. The No Parking thing is rather annoying because you have to park in the street and walk your dog across four lanes of supposedly 30 mph traffic to get to the path. But that perhaps limits the attraction for everyone and makes it more peaceful than it used to be.It is waterfront property with exceptional views.There used to be a few homeless guys who made a quiet home for themselves in the bushes and trails of the Bridle Path but they got swept away in the general clean up. It is a good spot to hang out, criss crossed with trails and shady nooks.
The salt ponds that lie behind the bushes stretch out to the airport and they are a home to wildlife of a more...natural sort.There is an old pier structure that used to jut out over water but the area seems to be silting up and even though it's the rainy season it was dry enough for Cheyenne to explore.

They call it the Bridle Path because it's where Key Westers used to be able to exercise their horses. Some people misspell it and call it the Bridal Path which is a double entendre worth a smile.Looking east toward the airport.
Another picture of a dog resting in the summer heat.One more summer dog walk in the bag.

Friday, January 8, 2016

A Matter Of Time

"It's unusual," my wife said. "I don't recognize any faces here."
"Not surprising," I said. "I figure I'm the youngest person in the audience. By a long shot."
"It's not that I expect to know someone," she went on as we waited for the lights to go down. "But I almost always recognize a few faces in the audience."
Red Barn Theater, Key West
We have been living la vida loca lately with too much to do and not enough time. A common story, so we decided to treat the problem in an uncommon way. We decided to to not only make time to do stuff, but that we would actually follow through - that's the uncommon part. At least so far...
Sandy's Fried Fish Sandwich
Of course a few business details had to be wrapped up at the house before we got away to drive to the Big City, so time was pushing us into a corner...Cheyenne doesn't leave the house much these days, she sleeps and eats and staggers around on very unsteady legs, a really old dog suddenly who fills me with sadness and nostalgia (not that I ever let her know). We wished her a cheery good night and launched ourselves into the cool of night, not too coll, but quite dark and debated dinner. Our initial plan of seafood at Alonzo's yielded to the reality of time so I suggested Sandy's for a fried fish sandwich which we shared so not only was it quick but it was also cheap. We sat at the counter, the view rather prosaically that of White Street after dark and drank coffee and shared fries. It was companionable in a student-era kind of way. A group of real youngsters stopped by and started talking about how authentic the food was and I was reminded that this is winter and visitors are always looking for the "authentic Key West." They looked like surfers who lost their way to Laguna Niguel. I privately wished them luck in their search for truth.
Caroline Street After Dark
Downtown we parked and I fed the meter five bucks for two hours which seems like a deal compared to the cost of a parking ticket and I didn't feel like rushing across town from a backdoor free parking spot so I paid to park and we strolled. It was a lovely night, not at all cold, velvety dark and perfect for two people to amble. The windows were wide open at the Bull though we had no time of course to pause for a beer. We had a play to watch.
Bull and Whistle
They offer alcohol at the Red Barn but we had to stay awake and drive home besides we were full of Sandy's cafe con leche (so authentic!). The play was a Neil Simon farce and I found a synopsis on my phone...so modern...which I studied as we squished into our seats in the middle of the row in a  sold out house. Wikipedia to the rescue!

We had determined we wanted to do something other than work just three days prior which left me a bit short on actual knowledge about what we had come to see...The set was a Ukrainian village gorgeously rendered by Rick Worth in this picture from the Red Barn website:
I was struck by the fact that the older actors on stage, Key West stalwarts had the smaller roles most of them but they were so proficient in this and worked so well as a team as the village idiots they outshone the raw young talent of the love struck leads. But hey we laughed and I enjoyed the overtones of a world gone mad with stupidity...until I noticed the age of the crowd.
"We just love it here," I overhead someone saying, that sort of comment that sounds somehow patronizing coming from people who live here but a few months of the year. You only get the good and the bad, the ugly and the sublime through the grit of living here all the time. I wish people who think they "love it here" would give themselves the full true measure of commitment. I have heard it said that the reason that residents of San Francisco hate it when visitors call the City (as its known to locals) "Frisco" is because they fell that the nickname, never deployed by residents, expresses excessive unwarranted intimacy with a city too beloved by outsiders. It's an odd sentiment, bewildering perhaps, but I find it applies to my feelings about Key West.
330 Duval Street, Key West
I looked around at the sea of old people and I'm sure the theater is glad to see paying bottoms in seats but I had flashbacks to my past living in God's Waiting Room (St Petersburg) when it was a  much less dynamic city than it tires to be today. I got the feeling that Key West is becoming what St Pete used to be. It unsettled me to feel like that, and I expressed the thought to my wife as we ambled across the courtyard back to Duval Street, after the play.
I think the earth shifted slightly in 2008 and the economic crisis knocked places like Key West out of reach of people who thought they could afford the occasional high cost fling, people who come to town, drink for a week and go home and adjust their second mortgage on their home they thought of as a piggy bank. Nowadays only the elderly wealthy can afford winters in Key West it seems and Duval was relatively quiet as we walked back to the car on a perfect January night. Food for thought. Meanwhile we had other food thoughts on our minds.
We stopped for dessert to go from Kennedy Cafe, the Uzbek restaurant recently remodeled and looking lovely. We had dessert wine at home to go with the Napoleon and the circular baklava and Cheyenne was waiting for us, now more than ever cherished for the simple fact of still being there to greet us, waking suddenly from sleep, surprised and quite possibly pleased to be awoken.
Time passes things change, we come and we go and permanence is made transitory. I hope young people rediscover Key West, and find it an affordable base from which to be creative and thoughtful and high spirited, and a good deal less like the retirement center it feels like it is slipping into.


Thursday, January 7, 2016

Faffing Around

I have discovered I am the object of some quizzical inquiry in my place of work. It turns out the two regular members of my shift, Nick who is a Conch:
And JW who is also a man of long lineage in Key West:
...have been monitoring me and my use of language. This came up the other day as I was dealing with a recalcitrant Trainee who was having difficulty believing I knew what I was talking about. He was staring at the monitor as I was explaining step by step how to enter certain information into the computer. The police dispatcher on our shift is required to note and type every piece of activity called out by the cops on patrol and if the dispatcher doesn't keep up the flood of information can be overwhelming.
 
After the Trainee went on break I was sitting there enjoying the silence of not training for a minute when JW started giggling. 
"We were texting, Nick and me and it turns out faffing is a real word, at least in Urban Dictionary," JW said staring into his phone. Cross-room texting is popular in dispatch when I'm training as I spend a lot of time talking and explaining and using examples to keep the Trainee alert, killing other more leisurely conversation that usually fills the room. That Nick and JW were commenting on my vocabulary came as a bit of a surprise.

(This is a former dispatch Trainee I worked with years ago, now a cop on the road:
)
It turns out I had been indulging my use of language with an old English expression, "For God's sake stop faffing around and enter the call," I'd said in exasperation as the Trainee wondered which way was up. And JW and Nick had caught on and asked themselves if "faffing" really is a word. Apparently it is. BY the way the Trainee got over his nerves, stopped faffing around and got the job done. 
I enjoy the English sense of humor, dry and rather restrained yet biting while understated. Humor is much easier to deploy in a mono-culture because the goal posts are the same. In the US there is always someone ready to be mortally offended by a public display of biting humor. JW and Nick's attention to detail surprised me. 

It turns out my language has been monitored on other occasions too.  In conversation I mentioned someone was a pompous gasbag, and JW later told me he rushed to the dictionary as he heard me say it and later still he was most excited to find the word pompous in a comic he was reading, "...and I knew exactly what they meant!" he told me triumphantly. 
Downside, Hogwarts
I was educated in a British public school at vast expense by my father who did not like me much (I was not biologically his) and who preferred to shuffle me off to a "good school" where I would be away 8 months of the year. Consequently my inability to capitalize on this investment in later years I think deepened the rift between us. I did not go to university, nor did I network, nor did I seek out meaningful employment: I ran away to California. 

So now, after a life spent faffing about I have finally found the source of meaning for all those years under the thumbs of Benedictine monks at Downside School: I am here to expand the vocabulary of my Conch colleagues. But don't imagine it's a one way street as I learn just as much from them about life as they learn obscure language arts from me. I can thus confidently say a meal without a banana is not a Conch meal in certain peoples' homes. JW is learning operatic arias as I forget myself and let loose as I come stumping up the stairs to work unaware he is at the top waiting to be serenaded. It's all a bit of a  trade off.

Wednesday, January 6, 2016

Endless Upgrades

Thew newspaper says the developers of the funky little hostel known as the Seashell on South Street may be around for a few months more as it's replacement is taking its time getting off the design board. So much the better as far as I'm concerned as Key West can still use a few lower priced places to stay. 
716 South Street, Key West
But of course a developer's life is never done so we find out now that some two dozen people living on their boats in Oceanside Marina on Stock Island are getting the boot. Liveaboards as they are known are favored in some marinas and hated in others and thus are banned. The argument in favor is that people living on their boats give life to the sterile docks and act as eyes and ears to protect the property 24 hours a day. Opponents say they clutter up the docks with their overflow belongings and tax the facilities like the showers and toilets and so forth. Also the unstated objection is they are scruffy sailors and bring down the tone for the gold plated fishing and motor boat weekend hobbyists.
So with plans to add a hotel to the already established condos developer Singh has decided living on your boat is out. A few weeks from now they will be gone and gentrification on Stock Island takes another step forward. The state legislature is also moving to outlaw anchoring permanently in certain favored spots. The Federal government is responsible for navigation which cannot be banned but camping on the water is going to get tricky as time passes.  And as anyone will tell you lots of Key West's low income workers live on the fringes in boats or in trailer parks. Both sources of housing are threatened on Stock Island as upscale comes to Key West's  suburb. 
I think the problem lies not just in the insatiable need for more generated by bored developers who need challenges (not necessarily money) and its just too bad our culture doesn't value development of housing for poor people as a noble endeavor. The Chamber of Commerce, the business people's union, has made that very clear with negative comments about wage levels in Key West already. Nobody is going to sing Pritam Singh's praises for duplicating Ed Swift's low income housing at Meridian West. And it's too bad because Key West is pretty much full with a few new high end developments coming, Conchs hunkered down in New Town and holding onto their piece of Paradise while wealthy outsiders barter increasingly outlandish prices for small homes in Old Town and then wonder why service sucks in their winter home. It's because wages are low and housing is awful:
I tried to explain to one transplant how the system works but she stubbornly told me she understood while expressing frustration with the weird way things work at her new job. I am sympathetic, I really am, but you only grasp the essential madness of working for a living in Key West when you understand that no one expects you to still be in the job in six months time. Most people give up, exhausted by the lack of common courtesy in the workplace, tired of bosses expecting the one soul who shows up on time regularly to take up all the slack, sleepy from too many jobs and too high a cost of living. Only a resilient few stick it out so you have to prove to your colleagues that you are one of the few and until then you are essentially a ghost. The notion of commuting by bicycle year round is alluring but everything else about working in Paradise sucks. 
I am lucky in that my job pays a living wage with great hours (for me, I love night shift) and superb benefits and bosses that appreciate me, so I can say working in Key West is great. But for a lot of people working with grumpy stand offish colleagues, getting paid half what they made Up North and living in a trailer does not add up to much. And now the living conditions here are taking another spiral south with the departure soon of the "The Fun Island," as gentrification continues in Marathon, second city in the Keys at Mile Marker 50.
Entrance to Knights Key Campground
These pictures I got online as I have never had reason to visit the trailer park but it's there just south of the Highway at the entrance to the Seven Mile Bridge and soon it will be gone. Oh well get used to "improvements" here as well thanks to the indefatigable Singh.
He it was brought Tranquility Bay to Marathon and now there are two name brand chain motels doing fire sale business in Marathon, with apparently more upscale building to come. Just like this no doubt "in the Key West style..." However Tranquility Bay pictured below, like Truman Annex or Parrot Bay in Key West is only the Key West style from the exterior shots. What gave Key West style was something entirely different, they were people who marched unmolested to the tune of their own drummers. Not angry people or fearful people, but frequently they were people damaged by life Up North who too refuge at the end of the road, and the Southernmost City made room for them. They drank and partied and made a living and lived with marginal material goods in homes no one else wanted. They were outcasts happy in their marginal lives and now they are gone for the most part and those of us who were happier in their orbit than in the orbit of the thoughtless rich find ourselves suspended between a past we were not damaged enough to participate in, and a future we want no part of. Even if we could afford it.  
I keep hoping something will stop the inevitable march into the Stepford future that looms large and I have time to sit on the sidelines and watch and hope. But were I to win the lottery, even if I played it, the future mapped out for Key West and the Lower Keys involves fewer cookie ladies and more name brand dressers from lives spent earnestly Up North.

Consider this interesting list of 20 cool small towns around the US. The list is rather more dynamic than you might expect as its for younger people rather than the dullards who read Forbes but it becomes clear a few towns into the list why Key West won't come close to qualifying: ecology, industry, education, are substituted for with an urban vision that encompasses more modern concepts than unfocused mass tourism and the wealthy at any price. Check out the list:


My future Key West when I am an old geezer will need innovative energy solutions, clever affordable housing in a  climate where tiny homes would work nicely, and locally grown art and literate people with lifestyle dictated by something other than fashion. It's possible even if our current crop of urban weed wackers have no clue at the moment.