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Where Mercy Is Shown, Mercy Is Given - Duane Dog Chapman [76]

By Root 1032 0
the officer who came to our school to give speeches about safety and awareness. For whatever reason, he used my name a couple times during one of his speeches, which made me feel special in front of my classmates. At the time, I worked the safety patrol, helping the crossing guard do his duties before and after school. One day I decided to take my services to a busy intersection in the middle of town. I stood in the street and began to direct traffic. It wasn’t long before the cops came to pick me up. They called my dad and told him he had to come take me home. I had a great time that day stopping traffic and giving directions to all the drivers. From that day on, I wanted to become a policeman.

Shortly after that incident, I heard the officer had been indicted for burglary. I was devastated when I heard the news because this was a man I admired. When I went to school, kids began teasing me that my “cop friend” was a no-good crook. After he pleaded guilty to his crimes, I began to see all cops as phonies and criminals. I felt that way until I got to prison.

Once I started interacting with the wardens and prison guards, I once again began to respect cops and authoritative guys in the system. I’ll never forget one of the prison guards telling me that he lived in Huntsville prison too.

“No, you don’t,” I said. “You get to go home at night, hug your wife and kids, and I don’t.”

“Sometimes, but mostly I am here more than I’m home. Sometimes I get a home-cooked meal, but mostly I’m in the joint doing time with you.”

I gave it some thought and realized he was right.

For the most part, the guys on the force love me and appreciate what I do. They even send me their service patches from the departments where they work, and I proudly display them behind the desk in my office. I have patches, badges, and pins from policemen and others who work criminal justice all over the world. I’m always so appreciative of their support. However, there are other cops who will never see me as anything more than a felon—and to them, I will always be on the other side of the law. They’re threatened by what I do because my experience and skills help me bring in the fugitives that they simply cannot bring in themselves. Many officers think my success rate makes them look bad. I’m not out to upstage the police. My only goal is to get my man. But some of these cops still see me as the bad guy, while they’re the good guys.

When I started bounty hunting, I was always trying to prove to the police that I was one of the good guys too. I wanted to be a cop or a United States marshal more than a bounty hunter, but the choices I’d made in the past made that impossible. I love cops and want to work with them because I know we are stronger unified than we are apart. I want their respect for what I do and bring to the table as a fellow member of law enforcement.

Whenever a cop shows up at a scene we’re working, we fear what type of cop he is. Will he embrace us and work with us? Or will he make it difficult for me to do my job? Every time we make an arrest, we always risk a cop siding with the fugitive and not us.

This is especially disconcerting because most police officers don’t know the laws that protect bounty hunters. Unlike the police, I can enter private property unannounced and without a warrant. I don’t even have to read a fugitive their Miranda rights before making the arrest. Some states require bounty hunters to be licensed, while others only ask for bounty hunters to register with them. They refer to bounty hunters as peace officers, officers of the court, and people who aid government officials. Whatever it’s called, bounty hunting is an essential element to effectively fighting crime.

But every time I’m out on a bust, I never know if the cops I come into contact with in the field are friend or foe. Not long ago, we were out making a bust when the police showed up at the house where we’d arrested our fugitive. One of the officers began questioning the homeowner, who told him we broke into her house. When the cop asked me if that was true,

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