Posted on 07/22/2002 1:31:29 PM PDT by rdavis84
Mystery men keep handle on security at courthouse
BY LINDA SATTER
ARKANSAS DEMOCRAT-GAZETTE
July 22, 2002
They stand resolutely outside the federal courts building in downtown Little
Rock, watching and listening, saying little.
Inside, more of these mysterious men patrol in navy blue jackets,
starched white shirts and gray pants. They demand identification from all
who enter and screen for weapons. In courtrooms, they keep an eye on
proceedings while their earpieces deliver a running account of happenings
elsewhere in the building.
Occasionally, they speak softly into radios, and then suddenly,
discreetly, more of their kind appear.
They also guard jurors and jurists and stand ready to provide
cardiopulmonary resuscitation. Last year, James Thomas Carman was nationally
recognized as CSO of the Year for performing chest compressions to save the
life of U.S. District Judge Henry Woods, who died this March.
Though the badges pinned to their jackets declare "U.S. Marshal’s
Service," they’re not marshals. They’re also not security guards, cops or
bailiffs. And contrary to what some believe, they’re not federal agents, or
even federal employees.
They officially are called court security officers, or CSOs. They are
part of a nationwide group of former law enforcement and military security
officers who work for a private security firm under contract with the U.S.
Marshal’s Service. While in the courthouse, they have the same powers as
deputy marshals. But unlike the federal agents they work alongside, that
authority evaporates when the CSOs leave the building each day.
"They are the guys on the front line," said Daya Khalsa, senior vice
president of Akal Security, a company in Santa Cruz, N.M., that employees
CSOs in two-thirds of the country’s 12 federal judicial circuits, including
the 8th Circuit that encompasses Arkansas and six other states.
"They’re really providing the face of security to everyone. They’re the
people who see things first. They know the building better than anybody,"
Khalsa said.
The CSO program began on a small scale about 20 years ago in New York
City to supplement overworked federal marshals. It spread nationwide as all
federal courthouses increased security and as marshals’ duties expanded
beyond protecting judges. Today, there are about 4,800 federal CSOs.
"There’s a perception out there that private security is just driven by
price and it’s very low quality, and that’s a misconception," Khalsa said.
He said CSOs, who make $15 to $30 an hour, "couldn’t be more different" than
lower-paid private security employees.
While many private guards lack law enforcement experience and don’t carry
guns, CSOs are armed and have at least three years of law enforcement
experience. Most, Khalsa said, are retired cops with 20 to 30 years of
experience.
"I’ve been wearing a badge and carrying a gun since I was 18 years old,"
said John Dillon, 61, of Sherwood, a former U.S. Air Force security guard
and a CSO for five years.
In Little Rock, about half of the 28 CSOs at the main courthouse or the
nearby bankruptcy courthouse are former military police, while others are
retired sheriff’s deputies, police officers or state troopers. Many have
experience in both areas. The youngest is in his mid-30s, the oldest, in his
mid-70s. Most are in their 50s. All must pass stringent annual physicals.
Behind their uniformly steely gazes, though, they are a diverse bunch of
individuals, with skills reaching far beyond knowing how to shoot guns and
wrestle suspects — not that there is much of a need for either on their
watch.
Ron Cunningham, a CSO for 11 years who spent 20 years with Air Force
security, and who races horses around barrels on weekends, credits the
no-nonsense reputation of federal court for minimizing rowdy behavior that
sometimes afflicts the less-staid state courts.
"I think they have a lot more respect for the federal system," Cunningham
said of would-be troublemakers.
Cleo Randall, a CSO for three years who previously worked as a juvenile
court bailiff and in Air Force security, agreed. A martial arts teacher and
sword maker while off duty, Randall said the CSOs’ law enforcement
backgrounds help them quickly recognize postures or movements that signal
trouble, allowing them to ward it off by quietly summoning reinforcements.
Because the officers’ mere presence can deter trouble, making it hard to
know how much actual danger or crime they may have averted, the workday
often ends without that satisfying sense of accomplishment, notes Mike
Kieffer, a CSO for 10 years who spent 20 years in Air Force security.
Kieffer said that’s why the most rewarding part of the job is the
friendliness the CSOs get from courthouse regulars — judges, staff and
lawyers.
"They go out of their way to speak and remember what your name is. It
makes you feel appreciated," he said.
Chief U.S. District Judge Susan Webber Wright said the court officers
"serve us well."
"My experience with them is they’re ordinarily pretty good with handling
people and different situations in a courtroom setting," Wright said. "I
think that, because of their backgrounds, they do have a lot of people
skills that others of us lack. The downside is they tend to be older and not
as physically fit" as marshals.
Wright said that since the bombing of the federal courthouse in Oklahoma
City in 1995 and the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks, she’s heard informal
chitchat at meetings of senior judges across the country about whether
more-enhanced security is needed in federal courts beyond that provided by
the combination of CSOs and marshals. Jim Hall, a supervisory deputy marshal
in Little Rock, said the CSOs provide necessary extra manpower and are "a
good group of guys."
Though much of what the CSOs do is secretive, one of their unofficial
duties is hard to miss. At least once a week, the courthouse is permeated
with the smell of bacon, stew or perhaps chicken and dumplings, all
emanating from the officers’ firstfloor office. Usually the cook is their
supervisor, 18-year veteran Joe Maxwell, or seven-year veteran Fred Clark.
"We have a simple meal once a week for fellowship. It’s just kind of
become a tradition," said Clark, a retired state trooper, deputy sheriff and
smalltown police chief known for making a mean batch of cornbread.
The CSOs admittedly cultivate the sense of mystery that leaves people
wondering who, exactly, they are, and what, exactly, they might do if
provoked.
"A great deal of the respect we get comes from the mystique," three-year
CSO Robert Bellamy said.
Max Ballew, a 13-year CSO, agreed. With a sly smile, he notes that’s one
reason why, when CSOs are on the job, "the courthouse is very well
protected."
This story was published Monday, July 22, 2002
Akal Security is an excellent example of Sikhs in Professional fields. Akal Security is a Sikh owned private security company in USA. Akal Security was started in January 1980 by the pioneering efforts of Daya Singh and Gurtej Singh.
There are 12 judicial circuits in the USA. Akal Security provides security to 8 of these 12 circuits. Akal’s court security officers protect the judiciary. Akal has 2500 employees in more than 30 states. Akal provides employment to many non-sikh US citizens.
The following 3 Akal administrators are keertanees as well!
But a Sikh regiment in the US armed forces? I like the idea!
I KNEW IT!!! I just knew it! :-)
Their success at the Murrah Bldg. in OKC is quite a tribute to them. Wouldn't you say?
Ooops! Scratch that. Seems that building is no longer part of their Contract.
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