Ribs

So there I was.

Yesterday at work was one of the worst in recent memory. Whereas before I had been in the Training Division for the past twelve years, was the Rangemaster for my department, then the EVOC Supervisor -- I lost my EVOC job last year when it was eliminated in budget cuts. I found myself flopped back to the "corrections" system in a facility where I actually had begun this career -- ahem -- 30+ years ago, shall we say.

Now, there is essentially no training division for the department at all.

That said, I have been the supervisor for 50+ deputies per shift for almost a year now. My first duty on my very first day was to lay off deputies from my new facility, collect their equipment, radios, keys, etc., and shove them out the door. Some supervisors did just that; I found it callous and reprehensible. Neither the Sheriff for my department nor any of his Chief Deputies showed up to shake their hands and thank them for their service. No. None of the executive staff deigned to lower themselves to that level -- they would have had to actually face their troops and actually answer difficult questions.

Instead, I ended up talking to those I had to personally process; I helped carry the contents of their lockers and their possessions out to their cars. Some were stoic; some were trying not to cry; some were running tears as their backs were turned to their remaining young friends watching them leave.

We lost over 170 young troops in one day.

Since then, I have watched my department continue to mismanage funds and hemorrhage personnel. Of course, none of the people on the fourth floor lost their own cell phones, offices, take-home cars. Trust me, their trunks are still comprised more of golf clubs than emergency equipment.

The facility is a powderkeg waiting to blow. The various gangs are consolidating their power. Two internal housing areas in my facility were shut down for "cost savings." Yet the arrests haven't stopped in my county, of course -- and everyone has to be somewhere. There are two fewer housing areas, more inmates, fewer deputies. The gangs know we are hurt and bleeding. They are making moves and violence is up. Assaults on inmates are up. And public disrespect towards my deputies is climbing geometrically because the inmates -- many of them wards of the State of Cali and senior gang members -- realize our plight. They're human; they're not stupid. And they can read the papers, to which many of them subscribe, and watch the news, due to TVs in all the pods.

Yesterday was another point in the stretching sanity. Too few troops to do too many jobs, nursing staff cut, no psych staff at all on weekends. Demands made. Hurt inmates, crazy inmates, med runs, tempers, frustration, anger. Fingers pointing at other shifts. A facility commander who, at 47, decides he's had enough with his assignment and the department itself. His office was cleaned out two weeks before his troops all knew he was thinking of leaving. He's jumping ship. Our Sheriff is jumping ship at the end of his single term. And specifically, good riddance to him.

I patched wounds and I patched egos and I provided a listening board for numerous young deputies yesterday, one who was doing her best not to burst into tears from frustration. I solved problems and spoke in soothing tones and put a lid on the boiling emotions. Everyone is on edge.

This is one very dangerous place.

BZ

P.S.
And to think I originally wanted to write about ribs today. I was derailed by thoughts of my immediate reality and our economy.