Moose lets Loose
The police chief's candid remarks get mixed reviews in Northeast Portland but seem to have won him support within the bureau.
BY MAUREEN O'HAGAN
mohagan@wweek.com
December 9, 1998
In the days since Police Chief Charles Moose let loose at a City Council meeting last week, one thing became clear: The chief stands alone.
In a discussion ostensibly aimed at defending his officers' actions during an August protest march that wound up in front of his house, the police chief was so uncharacteristically candid that he shocked city hall, fueled talk-radio shows and had Northeast Portland's community leaders abuzz.
Moose's remarks, which came from a prepared statement, caught his boss off guard. Mayor Vera Katz hadn't reviewed the statement. Nor had the two assistant chiefs who sat stone-faced on either side of Moose as he read to the council.
"I know he feels isolated from above and below," says one observer. "He feels alone, and as best as I can tell, he is. The only person in the world that he confides in is his wife."
When protesters chanted, "Where's the black fucking chief?" outside his home in Northeast Portland last summer, he and his wife, Sandy, were completely alone. "I felt captured," Moose said. "I was trying to assure her that the crowd was not going to shoot into our house, that they were not going to firebomb our house." Moose said he received just one supportive call after the event, and it did not come from anyone inside city hall.
Although Moose's statement rankled city officials, it's worth noting that they account for only one of his constituent groups--and not necessarily the most important one.
Moose's comments stemmed from an incident on Aug. 16 when officers shut down a party at Sellwood Park. The party was to be the third annual event held by Daniel Binns, a popular Northeast Portlander with a history of drug convictions in the 1980s. Police said the parties attract gang members and result in violence.
The next day, Binns and his supporters protested the police action by rallying a crowd on Martin Luther King Jr. Boulevard and leading the people on a march that stopped in front of Moose's house before continuing through the neighborhood. Officers fired beanbag projectiles at several members of the crowd when they would not disperse.
The mayor asked the chief to present a detailed report on the incident at a city-council meeting--something she's never done before.
In Northeast Portland's African-American community, where the events took place, reaction to Moose's statements has been mixed. Some, like state Rep. Joanne Bowman, were bothered by some aspects of the police action. Others, like local activist Richard Brown, said support for the chief hasn't dwindled because of his remarks. "Most people are thinking like him," Brown said. He agrees with the chief that, given the lack of education, jobs and affordable housing in Northeast Portland, too much energy was spent on a busted beach party.
Officers, with whom Moose has had a tense relationship in the past, rallied around the chief because they share his view of the events. "I can tell you that my pager started ringing off the hook, and I never got a negative comment from one member," says police union president Greg Pluchos. "They were all saying the chief needs to be commended and backed for this."
There are three reasons for this support. First, Daniel Binns is widely seen by officers as a crook because of his past. When Mayor Vera Katz and Binns hugged at a community meeting after the protest, police officers were mortified. "To have Daniel Binns bring down Charles Moose, that would be amazing," one officer said.
Second, although many officers on the streets have been bothered by the chief's legendary temper and by his discipline decisions, they were glad to have Moose support their handling of the Binns incident.
Third, officers were sympathetic to the chief's distress during the protest at his house. One officer told WW that he moved outside the city because he was constantly called upon--or in some cases harassed--by neighbors because he was a police officer. "I think it's difficult on anyone who's a police officer to deal with the day-to-day grind of police work and then to go home and have the neighborhood depend on them again throughout his evening hours when he's supposed to be spending time with his family," Pluchos said.
Moose says he doesn't regret the remarks but wishes he could have been more clear. So how does the chief think he's faring in light of the flap? "This isn't the mayor's office," he said. "I don't count numbers."