It was cool the night Randy Sutton pulled a chunk of flesh from the baby's mouth, gave her mouth-to-mouth and brought her back to life.
It was a split second after the girl's face was torn off by a drive-by bullet. I only got there in time to see the broken parents crying next to the little girl's car seat. The next day they sat, tearful but thankful, by her bed in intensive care at University Medical Center. Tangled whiskers of plastic tubing stuck out of the massive bandage that hid her face. Her father spoke only Spanish. Her mother spoke English well enough to give thanks one more time.
To Sutton.
"We want to say thank you to all the people who help my baby," Reina Martinez said. "And thank you again to him, because he was the one. If he didn't come at the time, my baby was going to die."
That was six years ago. Today, the girl is a healthy 6-year-old, her scars hidden by the expert work provided for free by local surgeons. And Sutton is using her story. But not for himself.
He's included the gritty account in a collection of 53 stories solicited from police officers around the country. They make up the new book, True Blue: Police Stories By Those Who Have Lived Them (St. Martin's Press, $23.95). Though not officially released until February 27, True Blue is already in its second printing. Sutton says it's getting rave reviews. The stories—some just two pages long—are divided into five categories: Line of Duty, The Beat, War Stories, Officer Down and Ground Zero: Stories of 9/11. Most compelling, though, is that the stories present the sterile uniform of the cop with all the blood and tears and fury and laughter most citizens never see.
"At some point in the career of every cop," begins a story by Sacramento Sgt. Dave Cropp, "we realize that there would be no heroes without victims; no one to rescue without tragic cruelty on the other end; no celebration without solemn contemplation and prayer." The story is about the abduction of a 4-year-old girl.
(Metro Officer Harry Fagel provided the book's only poem, about his depression following 9/11.)
Sutton won't make a cent from it. All proceeds are going to a fund set up for victims of the terrorist attack on September 11, 2001.
However, the book may offer Sutton a firm introduction into the publishing world—he has two more books already in the works. There's talk of turning True Blue into a television series. And he's sold a movie script, which he says is "something like Quentin Tarantino's Reservoir Dogs." But whether the 47-year-old cop profits or not isn't of great consequence to the 18-year veteran and senior Metro sergeant. Because he suffers from heart disease, Sutton says the question of time is always on his mind. Limited time puts things into perspective, he says. Making money is a priority that fades away.
The St. Martin's Press bio calls you "the most decorated officer, in terms of commendations for saving lives, valor and meritorious service and exemplary service, in the department's history." With all those accolades, are you finding the publishing of this book exciting?
It's very exciting, because it's something I gave birth to. I've been thinking about this idea for years, literally, and it wasn't until the frustration of September 11 and not being able to do anything to help that it finally jelled. I'm not getting money because I couldn't have done this as a mercenary. I couldn't have gone to officers and said, "Gimme your stories so I can make money from them." Guys reached down and opened their hearts. Who would have thought that guys would reveal themselves in such a way? The whole thing was a spiritual experience, if you will, because of the way that it came to fruition.
The book's aim is to help victims of 9/11. Why? Lots of us felt miserable on that day, and in the weeks after there was a civility you'd see between strangers, an awareness, that was very unusual. But it didn't last. People moved on. Why not you?
After September 11, I went through a lot of personal traumas. My father died, and I was diagnosed with a life-threatening disease. It makes you reflect greatly on the time you have left. That gave me much more incentive to complete the book because, if nothing else, this will be my legacy, being able to have changed the lives of, hopefully, police officers and people that we serve all over the country. If, when I do go, this will be my legacy, that is very fulfilling. Whatever will be will be. It just makes me want to accomplish more.
Some of the stories are pretty gritty, but also hilarious, like Sgt. Al Gibson's story of finding a robbery suspect by following a trail of candy bars. All of them, though, demonstrate a humanity that people might not see in the officer picking them up for speeding or whatever. From your experience, and from these stories, can you say what makes a "good" cop?
That's a question I've given a lot of thought to for years, the philosophical aspect of police work. What makes a good cop is a strong part of compassion, which is an essential ingredient; a huge amount of integrity, a huge dose of common sense. Intelligence—you don't have to be a rocket scientist, but basic intelligence—and a certain aggressiveness. A certain natural inquisitiveness and aggressiveness in seeking the truth. Lump that all together and tie it up with number one: Do the right thing.
It's not easy to find. But here's the interesting thing. I've dabbled in businesses. I've owned a cigar company, Havana Honeys, the fastest-growing cigar company in the United States. I've owned a tanning salon, a medical office. And after being involved in businesses, I found I got no satisfaction from it. In fact, there was so much more dishonesty in the business community, from business leaders … that it made me realize how good I have it working with police officers. Because even though we make mistakes at times, the driving force behind most cops is a sense of right and wrong. A sense of integrity. That's why guys are willing to lay down their lives for fellow cops.
Having received some 200 submissions, how did you pare the stories down to 53? And these guys aren't professional writers; did it take much editing?
I had great help from Cassie Wells [the book's editor]. When I told her what I was doing, she put in 500 hours of her time without pay. She and I worked with every single author.
What's the most time you spent on a story?
Probably 15 hours, between conversations and getting the story to flow and talking it out with a guy who might have been reticent about laying it out there.
There's so much in these stories. I mean these guys put themselves out. And I didn't want to just abandon them. We became almost like a family. I shared the stories among the authors. And I received e-mails, "Randy I can't thank you enough for doing this, because I thought I was alone for doing this." It's become a magical experience.
How has the national media responded to the book?
The funny thing is, it's become a tremendous grassroots publicity campaign.
For example, a Sitka, Alaska, newspaper did an article, because one of their cops wrote a story in the book. And we're getting the same from the little towns where these cops came from. Word is going out, people are calling me for the book from all over the country. As for the major networks, they're mostly telling us they've done enough stories on the police. You know, so let's put another story about a cookbook out there, because that's vitally much more important.
Does your success mean you'll be leaving police work?
My first love is police work, there's nothing I get more satisfaction from. And there are temptations involved with some of these other things. But I can't see me doing anything else until I'm retired. I'll be eligible to retire in about three years. I'm not even sure I'll go then.