BRATTLEBORO — On a recent trip to New York, I had a meal in the food court at Grand Central Station prior to catching my train back to New Haven. The food court was packed with people, the hustle and bustle fascinating to watch and a pleasant hubbub to listen to. The tables were close enough that snippets of conversation from the next table were easily audible.
A very loud series of bangs suddenly changed this convivial scene. Conversations immediately died away as people turned to see what was going on.
A New York policeman stood next to a table against one wall of the food court. He was dressed in black - which seemed almost deliberately sinister - and held in his hand a telescoping metal rod. He had used this rod to slap the marble table, producing the very jarring noise.
I was at the next table, about eight feet away, and was therefore able to see exactly what transpired. The policeman was glaring down at the occupant of the table, a man in his 40s, and said in a loud, authoritarian voice, “Wake up, wake up! Don't sleep here.”
The “offender,” who had been leaning against the wall, with his head propped up by his arm and a small bag, dozing quietly, briefly looked up and wordlessly shifted to a more upright position. The policeman then sauntered off (perhaps swaggered would be a more appropriate word) to another area of the food court.
The “offender” watched the policeman disappear without a trace of emotion registering on his face. No one else spoke to the man, and the hubbub resumed.
* * *
My first thought was that this was a street person, perhaps seeking a warm spot to rest. The man looked reasonably well-groomed and his modest clothes looked neat, so at a glance he did not appear to be living rough.
The policeman's manner was highly offensive, even if it had been the case that the man was living on the streets. I was outraged, and all I could think of was, who the hell did this bastard policeman think he was?
Was there a law that one could not doze at a table? I didn't see any sign saying: “Thou shalt not sleep, doze or close one's eyes.” I suppose blinking would be grounds for deep suspicion. The idea is absurd and the episode obscene.
I wondered what would have happened had that been me.
I was very tired and looking forward to a nap on the train back to New Haven; I had just enough time to scarf down my curry before catching the train. Suppose I had 20 or 30 minutes to spare - perhaps I would have been in this poor fellow's place.
And what would have happened if I had told the bully policeman to wind his neck in and find something more useful to do? Would I have become another statistic?
* * *
This was the act of a bully who felt that he was in charge of the rabble and quite at liberty to take whatever actions he deemed appropriate to ensure total control. If need be, he could enforce his words and actions by using his weapon. He could even kill if he thought it necessary, with some certainty that he would be exonerated, regardless of the circumstances (which does not say much for the legal system) and that his superiors would fully support his actions.
Would I trust such people, or look up to them? No, but I do feel contempt.
Police officers are civil servants. Was this episode an accurate depiction of how a civil servant should behave? I think not.
It is, though, a sign of our times, accurately reflecting out-of-control police all across the country who are condoned by their political masters (both Democrat and Republican), given a free pass by the legal fraternity, and fully supported by the corporate world.
Stories of police abuse, of excessive force and brutality completely disproportionate to the supposed offense, are all too common. The idea of “civil” service is anathema to these people and to those who hire them. There appears to be a systematic policy to hire brutish bullies to impose total control, especially as the gap between rich and poor becomes a chasm.
The 99 percent must know their place in the scheme of things or otherwise pay the consequences.
Is this the type of society we wish to live in?