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By Bob Martin
The call was not the first one from a police chief, nor would it be the last. Since arriving in the Personnel Division in 1976, I found myself called upon more frequently by the top boss.
Most of those conversations were confidential and my instructions were usually to prepare correspondence in his behalf to the mayor or another department head.
This time, I was to come up to the office right away. When I arrived, I received one of the most challenging assignments of my career. Doing it was not a problem, but its nature was altogether different.
Musical Chiefs
As an officer in the Houston Police Officers Association (HPOA), the forerunner of the HPOU, I was keenly aware of how police chiefs were appointed - and how those who didn't get appointed were held in low regard.
Since my graduation from the academy in early 1970, I had already seen five chiefs leave office. One of them, B. K. Johnson, had stepped down when Kathy Whitmire was elected mayor. He was still around.
Each of those five chiefs brought some baggage with them, but their legacies were more related to their accomplishments - or lack of same - while in office. The man holding the office when I showed up was Herman Short, often regarded as the best of the bunch. He stepped down at the end of 1973 in order to avoid being fired by incoming mayor Fred Hofheinz.
Short had been selected in 1964 to abruptly replace Hobson "Buddy" McGill, a leftover from Mayor Lewis Cutrer, whose legacy included the misguided purchase of the Rapid Transit Company...which was faulted then for not addressing the transportation needs of the city (sound familiar?)
But when Councilman Louie Welch replaced Cutrer in 1964, he noted that things did not seem to be going well in the Police Department. That fall, he sent word for McGill to come to his office. McGill replied that he was busy. It took less than 24 hours for Welch to tap Inspector Herman Short for the top job.
It certainly wasn't the first time that a mayor passed over more senior officials in choosing a chief. Indeed, Sergeant Jack Heard was chosen in 1954 by Roy Hofheinz and left the department three years later. That was back when I finished high school.
As I heard it, Short was the least senior of the inspectors (a title later changed to deputy chief and later abolished). Unlike any of his successors, Short entered an office which was guided by two men who knew how the department should run and how the city did business.
Assistant Chief George Seber had held that position for many years, and Administrative Assistant George Hogan, brought in by Heard, was in charge of the office staff and the budget. Seber was a wise and experienced officer and was known for his decision-making. Short learned well from him to make a decision and stick with it. It is reasonable to assume that it was Seber who recommended Short to Welch.
During the next five years, Short enjoyed the advice and wisdom of his assistant chief. He also became well aware of the lack of cooperation and responsibility among the inspectors. As Seber approached retirement, the chief looked down the chain of command and observed that none of the inspectors likely to score highest on an examination to replace Seber was capable of the job...and not very capable where he now was.
It was a telling comment and it was surely an open opinion when Short requested that the single position of assistant chief be abolished. It was also a telling statement about the coveted civil service law and its application in Houston, in that the process of promotions in both the police and fire departments really amounted to that of a spelling bee: the winners would be those who were able to temporarily memorize material regardless of its relation to the job.
In 1971 a young Fred Hofheinz, son of the former mayor, announced his candidacy for mayor to displace Louie Welch, completing his eighth year in office. One of the challenger's main campaign promises was to remove Herman Short. He failed in that effort, but in the next two years his electability became much more focused, prompting Welch to announce he would not seek a sixth term.
The Examination Process
Hofheinz barely won over popular television personality Dick Gottlieb. When the votes were counted, Short quietly retired - never to set foot in the headquarters building again.
So my first acting chief was the senior of the inspectors: Robert J. "Joe" Clark. Clark was an interesting fellow, in that he seemed to have been there forever, yet he didn't seem to do much. For years his task had been to supervise (a misnomer in the HPD) divisions in which most officers did not want to work.
Hofheinz wasted no time in selecting the replacement, choosing then Captain Carrol Lynn. For about 18 months, Lynn presided over a disheartened and demoralized department. When he finally tossed in the towel and stepped down, Hofheinz decided to wait.
The city elections of 1975 were approaching and the mayor wanted to ask the new City Council to go along with appointing a chief from the outside. The incumbent council had made it clear no such thing would happen.
So for most of six months, now Deputy Chief Clark had the steering wheel but did not seem to grab hold. When he took his annual vacation, he had to designate a fellow deputy chief, Leroy Mouser, to fill in.
After the election, Hofheinz was again turned down on the outsider idea and settled for another captain: Byron G. Bond. "Pappy" Bond lasted about the same time as Lynn, retiring in the wake of the drowning death of a police prisoner. First thought to have been a deliberate act of homicide, the incident inflamed the Hispanic community which demanded that such oppression end.
Just months before his departure, Bond had filled four new assistant chief positions, having been led to believe that he could expect more conscientious individuals at that level. History shows that the promotion examination - the last one held for assistant chief - was no different from any others in that memory was more important than knowledge.
To prove the point, one of the four was former chief Carrol Lynn.
A frustrated Hofheinz picked Assistant Chief Harry Caldwell to salve the burning sensation which had developed between the department and the Hispanic community. Caldwell spent a little over two years defending the department while attempting to assuage the uproar.
In the fall of 1981, the HPD again became one of the major issues of the bi-annual city election. It was not the first time and it would not be the last. Now, incumbent Mayor Jim McConn, who was well-liked but indecisive, and who had chosen B. K. Johnson to follow Harry Caldwell, found himself the loser, not even getting enough votes for a runoff.
Spunky, 35-year-old City Controller Kathryn Whitmire, who had campaigned on the promise of appointing a new police chief from outside the HPD, emerged in the runoff election against former Police Chief Jack Heard, who was seen as a defender of the department and the status quo.
It was a bitter campaign which focused on the questionable management of HPD and the lack of "progress" toward various goals.
Heard had become somewhat of a legend in his own time. He left the department to head the state prison system and then returned to Houston to become sheriff of Harris County. He had the electoral advantage of name recognition, while Whitmire was trying to come from an obscure auditing post to run the city.
Most city employees were rooting for Heard, fearing that Whitmire would make good on some of her promises - like abolishing sick and vacation leave (she didn't really quite advocate that, but it stuck). So, most of us (who couldn't vote because we lived outside the city) were surprised when she won. Indeed, so was she!
Following the runoff election, hundreds of city employees either resigned or retired. They wanted to keep their accumulated sick and vacation time, for which they would be paid upon separation. We called it "drag up pay," while the city called it termination pay.
Those checks for termination pay had attracted Whitmire's attention as controller and she did not believe it was proper to give such large amounts to departing employees.
Unprecedented Assignment
A lot of uncertainty ran through the HPD for the next several months. Upon taking office, the new mayor chose the least senior assistant chief to serve as acting chief. No one inside the department had applied for the job, since the mayor had made it crystal clear that the next chief was coming from somewhere else. During much of its history, while decisions about a new chief were being made, the HPD was headed by an acting chief - but none of them ever got the job.
When I arrived in the Chief's Office that day I was told to go right in. Acting Chief John Bales greeted me with an unusually serious look. We chatted a bit about personnel matters and the ongoing civilianization program. Then he reached behind him to his credenza and lifted a large pouch heavy enough to require both his hands. Without opening it, he placed it on the edge of his desk and told me of its contents.
The acting chief had apparently learned of my role in preparing disciplinary suspensions, a chore I had acquired shortly after Chief Caldwell took office and the number of such actions increased rapidly. This new assignment was to prepare such a document for one of the assistant chiefs.
I must point out that it was extremely rare that ranking officers faced any form of discipline - primarily because there was no rule requiring them to do anything with regard to their position or assignment. But this incident involved off-duty conduct which made the task easier.
Bales insisted that no one know of the task at hand. But upon returning to my office I was compelled to discuss it with John Whittington, the senior assistant city attorney with whom I frequently consulted on such matters. Our arrangement was that I would prepare all suspensions up to 15 working days and his office would handle those involving indefinite suspension.
When I told him of my new assignment, he said he was aware of it and had told Bales to have me do the job. While I was most concerned about the nature of the suspension, it was flattering to learn that John had such confidence in me. Then he added that I should run it by him before sending it up to Bales.
The next week was fraught with problems as I tried to find a location where I could prepare the document in secrecy. When I first tried to draft it, my captain began coming by my door more frequently and was obviously determined to learn what I was doing.
This led to a loud argument between the captain and my deputy chief in which the captain complained that he was not privy to all of my work. The deputy chief told him to get used to it.
His interest did not reduce, so it became necessary to draft the document at home. It took several evenings. Finally I carried a copy to Whittington, who called me later to say it looked fine. It had been a long week.
John Bales had been promoted just a short time before the election (the last person to be promoted to assistant chief by way of a written examination) and was not yet infected by what I call reluctivity - the tendency to avoid making decisions so you cannot be blamed for the outcome. Reluctivity was not only a silent, growing abscess in the HPD...it was contagious because there appeared to be no mechanism to prevent it.
Now, Bales sat in the chief's chair but knew it was not to be his. Others in that role had left the department to wander aimlessly, not wanting to expose themselves to decision-making. Bales did not subscribe to that, and it appeared to me that he was determined to make the best of his situation and prepare the department for the next boss.
In my opinion, he did. But in the process he reached down to a lieutenant in the Personnel Division to carry out several important and sensitive instructions.
My book, "HPD: What Went Wrong and Why," is now available from Amazon and Barnes & Noble online. If you have enjoyed my anecdotal articles in the Retired Badge or Badge & Gun, you will likely enjoy this look into the HPD of the 1970s and 1980s.
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