THE UNIVERSITY DAILY KANSAN WEDNESDAY, APRIL 30, 2008 NEWS CRIME 9A Opossums and Ecstasy: all in a night's work BY FRANCESCA CHAMBERS fchambers@kansan.com As soon as I saw the officer who I rode along with, Richard Whitis, I knew he couldn't be much older than a college student. I was right. Whitis, a recent Missouri State graduate, was 24. I was happy that he was close to my age, but his youth also made me feel uneasy. My fears were further exaggerated when Whitis asked me to sign a consent form that released KU's Public Safety Office from responsibility if I was harmed. I was concerned about signing, but then I remembered the rain, which the officer said affected the amount of crime he saw during his shift. I wasn't expecting much from that night, probably just a few burnt-out headlights, but I had no idea I was about to experience a night filled with an opossum chase and a reported ecstasy overdose. Whitiss seemed nervous about having a rider, a 1080 in police code, but he was eager to prove how exciting and fulfilling being a police officer was. When he saw rain, he knew he would have to be creative to impress me. "Sometimes it's slower, but that's OK because it means people are not doing bad things." 11:00 p.m. As we start our first lap around campus, Whitis tells me that on nights like this, he keeps himself busy by checking the buildings that are open 24 hours and pulling people over who commit minor crimes. 11:02 p.m. "Somebody has to have a warrant out for their arrest," Whitis said. Whitis sees the night's first offender at the corner of Naismith and 18th streets. A blue Malibu has a headlight out. Whitis puts on his lights, and the Malibu pulls over. He reads off the car's tag numbers to the dispatcher and instructs me to stay in the police car while he approaches the car. The rain makes it impossible to hear Whitis and the driver's conversation. When Whitis returns, he asks the dispatcher for a run down of the car and the driver's information. The dispatcher speaks in codes I don't understand, but I get the gist. The car is not stolen, and the driver does not have any warrants out for his arrest. Whitis lets the driver off with a warning. When he returns, he tells me the driver was just a pizza boy delivering a pizza. Whitis says the driver is waiting on his next paycheck to fix the headlight, so Whitis gives the driver the benefit of the doubt. I hope that if I ever get pulled over on campus, Whitis is the officer who stops me. 11:19 p.m. "Most of the time, there is no reason for a police officer to yell at somebody" Whits said. Whitis tells me that it is hard for him to go to the gym because of his work and sleep schedule, so he does building checks and foot patrols to get exercise. Inside Marvin, all we find is several students studying, so we head back to the car. RICHARD WHITIS KU police officer While driving along Jayhawk Boulevard, Whitis notices a vehicle driven toward us without its headlights on. Whitis whips the car around and we pull the car over in front of Watson Library. Whitis lets this driver go with a warning as well. The driver merely forgot to turn his lights on after picking a friend up from the Kansas Union. We wouldn't pull another car over our third car until 11:56 p.m., and our fourth at 12:37 a.m. Both drivers were pulled over for headlight problems. placed on this shift again. But Whitis is not bitter about his hours and he saw the lack of crime as a positive. While Whitis and I wait for the next wrong-doer to pass us, he tells me he switched from majoring in education to criminal justice. He says he wants to help people by listening to them open up about their life stories while he's on duty. With Whitis' encouragement, I told him mine and he told me his—we had a lot of time to kill. 12:08 a.m. - 12:15 a.m. Whitis tells me that he has been a public safety officer for 15 months, but that he has only been out of training for nine months and has been on the graveyard shift since the beginning. He says the shifts rotate every six months, meaning he has three more months on graveyards, and he would be "Sometimes it's slower, but that's OK because it means people are not doing bad things." Whitis said. We decide to do a building check of Marvin Hall to get some fresh air and some exercise. This lap around campus, I ask Whitis if I may shoot his gun, he tells me no. I ask him if we can do some doughnuts around the Student Fitness Recreation Center's parking lot and then set his car on fire. He tells me no, again. Whitis clearly has not seen Superbad. "If I shot my gun, I'd be fired," Whitis said. "If I let you shoot my gun, that would be bad." This night is turning out to be a real bummer. The dispatcher reports a opossum on the loose on the second floor of Battenfeld Scholarship Hall. I have never seen a opossum before and I want Whitis to take the call, but Officer Robert Blevins reaches Battenfeld before we do. 12:57 a.m. Blevins decides to call animal control, but the agency does not answer. "I guess we're gonna have to try and run it out," Blevins tells the dispatcher. At 1:18 a.m. Blevins finally gets the opossum situation under control. "10-4. The possum has left the building," Blevins said. 1:27 a.m. — 1:40 a.m. I'm starting to get car sick so 1:59 a.m. We pull over yet another car with its headlights off. After the stop, I tell Whitis I'm ready to go home. Then, the dispatcher states over the radio that the office just received a 911 call. A female resident of McColum Residence Hall reportedly overdosed on Ecstasy. "Here's your story." Whitis tells me as he increases his speed from 20 mph to 50 mph in a matter of seconds. Whitis and I do a building check of Eaton Hall. No suspicious activity there either, unless studying on a Saturday night qualifies as suspicious. When we arrive at McCollum, Whits tells me to stay with him and that we need to move quickly. 1:45 a.m. I'm still not feeling well, so Whitis and I park behind bushes at the four-way stop between the Rec Center and Allen Fieldhouse. Whitis tells me drivers cannot see his car because of the bushes and so it is a good place to catch people running stop signs. No one in the residence hall's lobby seems know anything about the phone call. Whitis tells the desk attendant the name of the reported person who overdosed and we are given a room number. Whitis and I race to the room. He knocks on the door, but no one answers. He tells me to stand back, puts his jacket over his face and opens the door. The room is unlocked, the bed is unmade and the lights are on, indicating that someone was just in the room. Whitis tells the girl that no legal actions will be taken against her friend and that he just wants to make sure she is treated properly, but the girl refuses to answer any more questions. Blevins reaches the scene and tells us we are at the wrong room. We hear the sound of sirens outside and realize the ambulance has arrived. By the time we reach the ambulance, the student is already in the vehicle. After the ambulance drives away, Whitis goes to search for the girl's friend and I am left with Officer Blevins. The McCollum resident assistants begin to ask Blevins questions about the girl and I am asked to wait in the car. I can't hear the rest of their conversation from Blevins and Whitis ask her if she knows what type of pills she took and where the remaining pills are, but the girl says she does not know. They ask her who gave the pills to her, but her only response is a friend, and that which friend is not relevant. "Most of the time, there is no reason for a police officer to yell at somebody." the car. RICHARD WHITIS KU police officer However, I do hear the dispatcher say that the resident is code green, which Whitis later tells me means she will be OK. W h e n W h i t i s returns, I realize it's 2:30 a.m. and decide to end my ride along on an adventure-some note. Whitis takes me back to the Public Safety Office and drops me off at my car. He waits for me to pull out of the parking lot to make sure I leave safely. As I am about to turn onto the street, I realize I have forgotten to turn my headlights on. I give Whitis a look of embarrassment, turn my lights on and head home. — Edited by Matt Hirschfeld Rachel Anne Seymour/KANSAN Kansan reporter Francesca Chambers poses for a portrait in her apartment. Chambers rode along with a KU police officer Saturday night Show us those mad skillz by creating a t-shirt design for KU Credit Union's T-shirt Tuesdays, debuting Fall 2008,and you could win a serious chunk of change - to the tune of $500. Check out the contest details download a template and get more info about T-shirt Tuesdays at www.kucu.org. A Better Way to Bank