JAN. 2025. Blues Vol 41 No. 1

BY C.W. KINCADE“Back

BY C.W. KINCADE“Back when I was a cop...”I’m not very good with computersor the whole online thing.And I’m sorry I had to handwritethis message to you, but even ifI managed to hunt and peck myway through a typed page on myragged old computer, I have noidea how to send it to you. So,I went old school, hand wroteit and my grandson mailed it toyou. It was my grandson thatshowed me how to read yourmagazine on the computer. I justturned 89 but as my grandsonsays, I’m as sharp as a tack.My story starts long ago, longbefore most of you were evenborn. My family didn’t have a lotof money. My father was a drunkthat beat my mother and beat uskids as well. Growing up in theHouston Heights in the 30’s and40’s was hard. We didn’t havea lot of money and what extramoney we did manage to have,my drunken father spent it onbooze. I swore growing up that Iwould be a better man than myfather.I left home when I was 15 andwent to live with my uncle wholived a few streets away. I got ajob after school to support myselfand at 17 I moved in a smallgarage apartment on 12th street.I stayed in school until my senioryear, but never graduated. I hadto work to survive.I worked several jobs until Iturned 21 and then I applied tothe Houston Police Department.Back then, you could go to warat 18 and be a cop at 21. I triedsigning up for the army, but Ididn’t pass the physical becausebelieve it or not, one of my legswas a 3/4” shorter than the other.No one ever knew because Iwore one shoe with an insert soI could walk without a limp. Butthe police application back thendidn’t require a physical, just anote from a doctor that you didn’thave any diseases that would preventyou from doing the job. I gotthe note, passed the applicationexam and got the job.I started the police academy in1956. It was just 4 or 4 monthslong as best I can remember, andJack Heard was the police chief.Once you graduated, you wereassigned to foot patrol with asenior officer. There really wasn’tmuch training, just watch andlearn. They gave you a badge anda uniform and put you to work.On my first day, I was partneredup with a really old man who hadbeen a cop back when I guessthey rode horses, cause they sureas hell didn’t have cars back then.His name was Jimmy White andhe was not real happy to have asnot nose rookie assigned to him.Our beat was Main Street thatwas mostly bars, restaurants andhotels and lots of fist fights andpetty thievery. I remember the oldrail car that ran down the middleof Main street. Not long after Istarted, Heard moved a bunch ofus up north and started what hecalled “radio patrol.” Our ‘radiopatrol car’ was a 1950 Ford thathad red lights on the fender, aradio and a siren. That’s it.The first day of our new assignment,Jimmy asked me whyI wanted to be a cop. In fact helooked me in the eye and said,“kid why in the hell are you hereand why the hell do you wannabe a copper?” I told him my dadwas a drunk and beat me, mybrothers and my mom and I wan-114 The BLUES -- JANUARY ‘25

na find people like him and putthem in jail so no one else has togrow up like I did. He just smiledand said, “kid I think I’m going tolike you.”Things were a lot different backthen. Most people had respect forcops and those that didn’t knewthey were an ass-kickin awayfrom going to jail. You did whatyou were told, or the cops wouldjust beat the crap out of you. Itwas the days of cops and robbersand Houston was the like wildwest. The city wasn’t very bigback then. The city limits stoppedwhere Little York Road is today.They had just finished the Gulffreeway, (my grandson says theystill haven’t finished it) and mostof the new Loop 610 was done.The thing I remember the mostabout growing up in the 40’s and50’s was the segregation of blackfolks. My dad was as raciest asthey come. Like everything elsethat man did, I wanted to do theopposite. So, when it came totreating black people differently, Ididn’t like it one bit. That didn’t sitright with the old cops I workedwith. Many times, I was told theywould beat me silly if I didn’tstart acting whiter. Whatever thehell that meant.But like everything else, thatchanged in the late 60’s and 70’s,when we just beat the crap outof everyone, black or white. Astime went on, the city got bigger.People moved north into the newhouses that a man named FrankSharp built and we had concretehighways everywhere. And moreand more cars. Traffic jams havebeen a thing in Houston sincethey built cars.And crime just seemed to getworse by the day. In 1972, I waspromoted to Sergeant and movedto the North Shepherd substation.It was still modern, had newtelephones and air conditioningthat worked. I worked there until Iretired in 1979. I just tuned 89 andI’m sure my days are just aboutup. Everyone I worked with onthe job has passed already. Allmy brothers and sisters are gone,aunts and uncles passed a longtime ago. Parents died when Iwas 25, and my wife passed aswell. Only people I have left aremy son and grandson, and mygrandson followed in my footstepsand joined the departmentas well. I guess you could say Ihad a good life. I accomplishedwhat I set out to do and that’s bea better man than my father was.I’m sorry if this just ramblesbut at my age its hard to focus onwhat I’m trying to say.I’ll just end with this. It doesn’tmatter how much fancy stuffyou have in them new cars youboys and girls drive today. Whatmatters is the job you signed upto do. To put the bad guys in jailand make things better for lawabiding folks. Being good at yourjob just requires one thing. Compassion.Treating people with thatone thing makes the difference.There will always be bad peoplein this world. They will try andkill you if they have a chance.That will probably never change.But there will always be cops thatwill try and stop them from doingbad things and you must stayalive to do that. So, watch out foryourself and the other cops youwork with. You are the only thingthat separates the good from thebad. Stay safe my friends.The BLUES - - JANUARY ‘25 ‘25 115