Cover Story: Crossroads For top cop
The next few months will tell Atlanta cops all they need to know about their chief
After just a little more than a year in office, Atlanta Police Chief Richard Pennington has largely succeeded in accomplishing one of the two most important tasks of his administration: winning the confidence of Atlanta citizens.
His next undertaking — winning the respect and trust of his own troops — is proving a much more difficult problem.
And that shouldn’t be surprising. Here are just a few reasons: nearly a decade of “leadership” from the largely invisible Beverly Harvard, a woman widely regarded as a pawn of former Mayor Bill Campbell; declining ranks; frozen pay increases and broken promises.
Add to that list internal investigations that never seemed to go anywhere — unless you were an enemy of the chief — and any sane person, let alone one called on to put his life on the line every day, would have worked up a healthy skepticism of his “superiors.”
But when Pennington took over, he made it clear that business as usual in the APD was finished. He would be out front with the troops. He would hold people accountable. He would upgrade equipment, salaries and morale.
Now, a little more than a month after he made 95 personnel changes in a two-week period that included promotions, forced retirements and transfers, his record on keeping his promises is mixed. And that’s why his administration stands at a crucial crossroads as it finishes up an investigation of a scandal involving its motorcycle patrol division, waits for news in a separate investigation by Fulton District Attorney Paul Howard of its sex crimes unit and weathers two high-profile indictments.
Last summer, WAGA/Fox 5 investigative reporter Dale Russell reported on a scheme in which Atlanta motorcycle cops left their posts and abandoned their duties to Atlanta citizens during February’s NBA All-Star Weekend. The cops instead provided special escorts to VIP fans, like the rapper Jay-Z, while the rest of us were stuck in the thumping suspended animation of Peachtree Street traffic. Russell also discovered that many of the officers allegedly double-dipped — taking $150 payments for each escort while still on the city clock.
It used to be standard procedure for motorcycle cops — generally regarded as one of the most overworked groups in the city — to clock out and run special details for a little extra cash. It was seen as a fringe benefit for the long hours they put in. But NBA All-Star Weekend was no normal weekend, and clearly, the cops needed all the manpower they could spare on the streets controlling traffic flow and helping average citizens.
Russell found that two cops put together the scheme — Lt. Tim Ewing and Maj. Stan Savage. What’s more, Russell fingered Ewing for trying to force the owners of a Buckhead fitness club, who were looking for a detail to police their charity fun run, to use his services.
So what’s the big deal for Pennington? Police brass knew about the problem months before Russell’s investigation aired. After all, they had to assemble all the radio communications for the reporter. Yet they did nothing. Only after the two-part series ran was an Office of Professional Standards (OPS) investigation begun. And once it finally did commence, internal affairs investigators weren’t just asking about the scheme. Instead, they started an inquisition into who talked to Russell, even asking to see cops’ cell phone records.
“I did hear about that, but that’s totally inappropriate,” Pennington says. “Because it didn’t matter who talked to Dale Russell, and I called the OPS commander when I heard it [and said], ‘If you’re asking that question, I want you to cease from asking that question, because it’s irrelevant to the investigation.’ All I care about is if my officers did something wrong.”
The affair indicates why many Atlanta cops have zero confidence in their own internal affairs unit.
Speaking of which, Lt. Terrence Steele, the man implicated in the cover-up of 34 rape cases that involved difficult-to-track-down or uncooperative victims, was transferred to OPS once he came under investigation — not exactly the way to build trust in the unit. That investigation was turned over to District Attorney Howard, and the results should soon be made public.
On the surface, many of the chief’s moves raise suspicions, especially in a department whose worst suspicions have often been confirmed. But in the face of tough questioning, Pennington remains unflappable.
“This is not new to me ... those things happened to me probably three-fold in New Orleans,” says Pennington, also alluding to Atlanta Officer David Freeman, who was recently indicted by the feds for allegedly leading an Atlanta gang involved in drug selling and murders. “I’m not going to cover anything up, and I’m going to lay the chips right where they fall. That’s why I laugh when people say, ‘Chief probably not going to do nothing if he finds out about this.’” Pennington has made administrative changes that will make embarrassments like the NBA motorcyclist-for-hire scheme less likely to happen again. He recently instituted a new rule that allows officers a maximum of 24 hours per week of off-duty jobs, and put Maj. Damian Finch in charge of the newly created field inspections unit that will monitor compliance with the rule change. What’s more, Atlanta cops can’t clock out to work a detail and then clock back in anymore. Extra jobs have to be worked before or after an APD shift.
Pennington also ended the practice of superiors working for subordinates in off-duty jobs — just what happened in the NBA case as Savage worked for Ewing.
Still, there are troubling signs that the investigation may be set up to fail — a charge Pennington vehemently denies. Deputy Chief Thetus Knox was put in charge of investigating Savage, even though she was Savage’s former boss. In fact, if Savage followed APD protocol, Knox would have had to approve of the motorcycle unit’s special details. Given that, cops Creative Loafing spoke with worry that Knox won’t seriously investigate her former charge.
Pennington sees no possible conflict of interest in the investigation into Savage’s and Ewing’s activities. In fact, he says, former OPS head Harold S. Dunovant worked for Savage in extra jobs, as did OPS’ new leader, Maj. Welcome Harris.
As for Harris, he’s widely recognized as having cleaned up the department’s hit-and-run unit, is highly regarded within the department and is expected to reform OPS, so it’s not all questionable calls on Pennington’s part.
“Welcome Harris is a no-nonsense, tough-minded old-school guy,” says a recently retired Atlanta cop. “He’s a personality people could have confidence in, if he’s given the reins to really track things down and work on them.”
Pennington maintains that he will turn over the results of the investigation to Howard if there’s even a hint of criminality. And if Howard decides not to prosecute, Pennington will take whatever administrative discipline he deems necessary.
“I used to hear this, too, that we weren’t fair with officers, that we didn’t treat every officer the same,” Pennington says. “But we’re going to treat every officer the same. That’s how you improve morale. When the troops know that if they do something wrong that it’s going to be investigated properly, and it doesn’t matter who you’re connected with. I think that’s what the troops are going to wait to see.”
He’s exactly right. At least as much as pay raises and pension benefits, the near future of the Atlanta Police Department, not to mention Pennington’s credibility, are riding on the outcome of whether his officers believe the motorcycle unit and sex crimes investigations are carried out to the letter of their chief’s own words.
But while many of his own troops remain skeptical, Atlanta civic leaders appear to have been won over by changes he’s made in the department, moves that have included basing detectives in the zones to better coordinate crime prevention and the apprehension of criminals and a computer-based program — COBRA — that provides real-time crime stats to commanders so they can immediately devote manpower to hotspots.
Tami Donnelly, the president of the Castleberry Hill Neighborhood Association in downtown, says the change in police responsiveness in her neighborhood has been dramatic.
“It’s night and day. In the last eight months, it’s been just like ‘Whoa. What’s happened?’ When the car break-ins got so bad, they put bicycle cops here for 60 days. They really cleaned it up. Our hats are off to them.”
On the southside of town, Neighborhood Planning Unit Z President Rosel Fann, whose district includes some of Atlanta’s toughest neighborhoods, praises a new level of engagement between cops and citizens.
“[Cops] attend our meetings, want to help in any way they can, and that’s what we’ve been needing, you know, communication,” she says, adding that there used to be a revolving door of faces in and out of the precinct. “It had been that community folk just kept their mouth shut, because they really didn’t know who they were talking to.
“They always print that we’re the worst zone there is in the city of Atlanta, but [the cops] were really stretched thin trying to cover all the ground. They just couldn’t do it. When you turn in something about a problem you have in the community, my lord, you expect to hear whether it was solved or not. Now, we get those reports.”
In addition to the recent reorganization, Pennington used money from his newly created Atlanta Police Foundation to hire the consulting firm Linder & Associates to evaluate the department and reach out to Atlanta communities to get feedback on how the troops were performing in the field.
It shouldn’t be a surprise that Pennington would win the fealty of neighborhood leaders. He’s smooth and cool. You’d like to invite him over to read your kid a bedtime story.
Still, one shouldn’t underestimate Pennington. With the aid of the FBI, he helped reform the notoriously corrupt New Orleans police department. Crime rates dropped in a city famous for violence, one that makes Atlanta look like Dahlonega by comparison.
To help restore perilously low morale here, Pennington pledges to fight for a 5 percent pay increase this year, as well as a $400 boost in officers’ clothing allowance from $600 to $1,000. And Pennington says the project to switch service weapons from 9-millimeter to .40-caliber handguns, which have more knock-down power, has gone out to bid.
Finally, the chief is making educating his officers a priority. Beginning in 2006 and 2008, sergeants will be required to hold at least an associate’s degree, and lieutenants must hold a bachelor’s. Pennington is still working out the details of that plan with local colleges and universities.
“More than anything else, I think my officers are underpaid,” he says. “We spend thousands of dollars to train our officers and then when they get about four or five years on the department, if you haven’t kept pace with the pay and benefits, these officers pack up and go elsewhere” — a primary reason the department hasn’t made much headway with its manpower shortage. “We want to make sure that we keep our officers after we train them, because that experience is invaluable.”
After pay, the next task will be a real career advancement plan. Atlanta doesn’t have one. Cops stay in the same jobs for years, making it nearly impossible to replace certain positions. Pennington now says he’s looking at a system that would automatically rotate officer assignments every three to five years.
As for the current round of reorganization, it’s drawn mixed reviews. No police officer would speak publicly for this story — a phenomenon that’s understandable given the witch hunt that followed the motorcycle unit scandal.
Pennington maintains that none of the moves were personal, as he explained at a recent retreat for police lieutenants. “I told them ... ‘You were moved because I decided to put some different people in these organizations to come up with new ideas and be innovative and creative, and if that doesn’t work out, then I’ll move them again.’ Most of these people I didn’t know.”
Which is a scary admission. Granted, subordinates made recommendations to shift officers at the lieutenant level, but one of Pennington’s perceived failings is that he hasn’t been the chief of the people he promised his officers he would be when he took office.
Some cops have taken to calling Pennington King Richard or Chief Linder & Associates. One officer who works at City Hall East where Pennington is also stationed, says he still hasn’t seen the chief in person in the building.
“That is his biggest failing, that he hasn’t been a personable chief,” says the recently retired Atlanta officer. “Him not being out with our troops is inexcusable, because he said that in his inauguration address, and he hasn’t fulfilled that promise, a personal commitment he made.”
Pennington chalks up part of the problem to the six months and 200 hours this 30-year police veteran had to spend at the police academy to become a certified Georgia police officer. It was a process during which he split time between headquarters and the academy. But Pennington also says he shouldn’t be expected to show up every time the camera rolls on a crime scene.
“I give my commanders the ability to run their organizations, and I feel if I have to go out there every day and do their work, then I don’t need them, and so me being up on every scene, no, I’m not that type of manager,” Pennington says, listing the layers of leadership overseeing day-to-day operations. “I go out when there are things that are critical.”
Well, then here’s hoping his troops see a little more of their chief in the near future.
kevin.griffis@creativeloafing.com
His next undertaking — winning the respect and trust of his own troops — is proving a much more difficult problem.
And that shouldn’t be surprising. Here are just a few reasons: nearly a decade of “leadership” from the largely invisible Beverly Harvard, a woman widely regarded as a pawn of former Mayor Bill Campbell; declining ranks; frozen pay increases and broken promises.
Add to that list internal investigations that never seemed to go anywhere — unless you were an enemy of the chief — and any sane person, let alone one called on to put his life on the line every day, would have worked up a healthy skepticism of his “superiors.”
But when Pennington took over, he made it clear that business as usual in the APD was finished. He would be out front with the troops. He would hold people accountable. He would upgrade equipment, salaries and morale.
Now, a little more than a month after he made 95 personnel changes in a two-week period that included promotions, forced retirements and transfers, his record on keeping his promises is mixed. And that’s why his administration stands at a crucial crossroads as it finishes up an investigation of a scandal involving its motorcycle patrol division, waits for news in a separate investigation by Fulton District Attorney Paul Howard of its sex crimes unit and weathers two high-profile indictments.
Last summer, WAGA/Fox 5 investigative reporter Dale Russell reported on a scheme in which Atlanta motorcycle cops left their posts and abandoned their duties to Atlanta citizens during February’s NBA All-Star Weekend. The cops instead provided special escorts to VIP fans, like the rapper Jay-Z, while the rest of us were stuck in the thumping suspended animation of Peachtree Street traffic. Russell also discovered that many of the officers allegedly double-dipped — taking $150 payments for each escort while still on the city clock.
It used to be standard procedure for motorcycle cops — generally regarded as one of the most overworked groups in the city — to clock out and run special details for a little extra cash. It was seen as a fringe benefit for the long hours they put in. But NBA All-Star Weekend was no normal weekend, and clearly, the cops needed all the manpower they could spare on the streets controlling traffic flow and helping average citizens.
Russell found that two cops put together the scheme — Lt. Tim Ewing and Maj. Stan Savage. What’s more, Russell fingered Ewing for trying to force the owners of a Buckhead fitness club, who were looking for a detail to police their charity fun run, to use his services.
So what’s the big deal for Pennington? Police brass knew about the problem months before Russell’s investigation aired. After all, they had to assemble all the radio communications for the reporter. Yet they did nothing. Only after the two-part series ran was an Office of Professional Standards (OPS) investigation begun. And once it finally did commence, internal affairs investigators weren’t just asking about the scheme. Instead, they started an inquisition into who talked to Russell, even asking to see cops’ cell phone records.
“I did hear about that, but that’s totally inappropriate,” Pennington says. “Because it didn’t matter who talked to Dale Russell, and I called the OPS commander when I heard it [and said], ‘If you’re asking that question, I want you to cease from asking that question, because it’s irrelevant to the investigation.’ All I care about is if my officers did something wrong.”
The affair indicates why many Atlanta cops have zero confidence in their own internal affairs unit.
Speaking of which, Lt. Terrence Steele, the man implicated in the cover-up of 34 rape cases that involved difficult-to-track-down or uncooperative victims, was transferred to OPS once he came under investigation — not exactly the way to build trust in the unit. That investigation was turned over to District Attorney Howard, and the results should soon be made public.
On the surface, many of the chief’s moves raise suspicions, especially in a department whose worst suspicions have often been confirmed. But in the face of tough questioning, Pennington remains unflappable.
“This is not new to me ... those things happened to me probably three-fold in New Orleans,” says Pennington, also alluding to Atlanta Officer David Freeman, who was recently indicted by the feds for allegedly leading an Atlanta gang involved in drug selling and murders. “I’m not going to cover anything up, and I’m going to lay the chips right where they fall. That’s why I laugh when people say, ‘Chief probably not going to do nothing if he finds out about this.’” Pennington has made administrative changes that will make embarrassments like the NBA motorcyclist-for-hire scheme less likely to happen again. He recently instituted a new rule that allows officers a maximum of 24 hours per week of off-duty jobs, and put Maj. Damian Finch in charge of the newly created field inspections unit that will monitor compliance with the rule change. What’s more, Atlanta cops can’t clock out to work a detail and then clock back in anymore. Extra jobs have to be worked before or after an APD shift.
Pennington also ended the practice of superiors working for subordinates in off-duty jobs — just what happened in the NBA case as Savage worked for Ewing.
Still, there are troubling signs that the investigation may be set up to fail — a charge Pennington vehemently denies. Deputy Chief Thetus Knox was put in charge of investigating Savage, even though she was Savage’s former boss. In fact, if Savage followed APD protocol, Knox would have had to approve of the motorcycle unit’s special details. Given that, cops Creative Loafing spoke with worry that Knox won’t seriously investigate her former charge.
Pennington sees no possible conflict of interest in the investigation into Savage’s and Ewing’s activities. In fact, he says, former OPS head Harold S. Dunovant worked for Savage in extra jobs, as did OPS’ new leader, Maj. Welcome Harris.
As for Harris, he’s widely recognized as having cleaned up the department’s hit-and-run unit, is highly regarded within the department and is expected to reform OPS, so it’s not all questionable calls on Pennington’s part.
“Welcome Harris is a no-nonsense, tough-minded old-school guy,” says a recently retired Atlanta cop. “He’s a personality people could have confidence in, if he’s given the reins to really track things down and work on them.”
Pennington maintains that he will turn over the results of the investigation to Howard if there’s even a hint of criminality. And if Howard decides not to prosecute, Pennington will take whatever administrative discipline he deems necessary.
“I used to hear this, too, that we weren’t fair with officers, that we didn’t treat every officer the same,” Pennington says. “But we’re going to treat every officer the same. That’s how you improve morale. When the troops know that if they do something wrong that it’s going to be investigated properly, and it doesn’t matter who you’re connected with. I think that’s what the troops are going to wait to see.”
He’s exactly right. At least as much as pay raises and pension benefits, the near future of the Atlanta Police Department, not to mention Pennington’s credibility, are riding on the outcome of whether his officers believe the motorcycle unit and sex crimes investigations are carried out to the letter of their chief’s own words.
But while many of his own troops remain skeptical, Atlanta civic leaders appear to have been won over by changes he’s made in the department, moves that have included basing detectives in the zones to better coordinate crime prevention and the apprehension of criminals and a computer-based program — COBRA — that provides real-time crime stats to commanders so they can immediately devote manpower to hotspots.
Tami Donnelly, the president of the Castleberry Hill Neighborhood Association in downtown, says the change in police responsiveness in her neighborhood has been dramatic.
“It’s night and day. In the last eight months, it’s been just like ‘Whoa. What’s happened?’ When the car break-ins got so bad, they put bicycle cops here for 60 days. They really cleaned it up. Our hats are off to them.”
On the southside of town, Neighborhood Planning Unit Z President Rosel Fann, whose district includes some of Atlanta’s toughest neighborhoods, praises a new level of engagement between cops and citizens.
“[Cops] attend our meetings, want to help in any way they can, and that’s what we’ve been needing, you know, communication,” she says, adding that there used to be a revolving door of faces in and out of the precinct. “It had been that community folk just kept their mouth shut, because they really didn’t know who they were talking to.
“They always print that we’re the worst zone there is in the city of Atlanta, but [the cops] were really stretched thin trying to cover all the ground. They just couldn’t do it. When you turn in something about a problem you have in the community, my lord, you expect to hear whether it was solved or not. Now, we get those reports.”
In addition to the recent reorganization, Pennington used money from his newly created Atlanta Police Foundation to hire the consulting firm Linder & Associates to evaluate the department and reach out to Atlanta communities to get feedback on how the troops were performing in the field.
It shouldn’t be a surprise that Pennington would win the fealty of neighborhood leaders. He’s smooth and cool. You’d like to invite him over to read your kid a bedtime story.
Still, one shouldn’t underestimate Pennington. With the aid of the FBI, he helped reform the notoriously corrupt New Orleans police department. Crime rates dropped in a city famous for violence, one that makes Atlanta look like Dahlonega by comparison.
To help restore perilously low morale here, Pennington pledges to fight for a 5 percent pay increase this year, as well as a $400 boost in officers’ clothing allowance from $600 to $1,000. And Pennington says the project to switch service weapons from 9-millimeter to .40-caliber handguns, which have more knock-down power, has gone out to bid.
Finally, the chief is making educating his officers a priority. Beginning in 2006 and 2008, sergeants will be required to hold at least an associate’s degree, and lieutenants must hold a bachelor’s. Pennington is still working out the details of that plan with local colleges and universities.
“More than anything else, I think my officers are underpaid,” he says. “We spend thousands of dollars to train our officers and then when they get about four or five years on the department, if you haven’t kept pace with the pay and benefits, these officers pack up and go elsewhere” — a primary reason the department hasn’t made much headway with its manpower shortage. “We want to make sure that we keep our officers after we train them, because that experience is invaluable.”
After pay, the next task will be a real career advancement plan. Atlanta doesn’t have one. Cops stay in the same jobs for years, making it nearly impossible to replace certain positions. Pennington now says he’s looking at a system that would automatically rotate officer assignments every three to five years.
As for the current round of reorganization, it’s drawn mixed reviews. No police officer would speak publicly for this story — a phenomenon that’s understandable given the witch hunt that followed the motorcycle unit scandal.
Pennington maintains that none of the moves were personal, as he explained at a recent retreat for police lieutenants. “I told them ... ‘You were moved because I decided to put some different people in these organizations to come up with new ideas and be innovative and creative, and if that doesn’t work out, then I’ll move them again.’ Most of these people I didn’t know.”
Which is a scary admission. Granted, subordinates made recommendations to shift officers at the lieutenant level, but one of Pennington’s perceived failings is that he hasn’t been the chief of the people he promised his officers he would be when he took office.
Some cops have taken to calling Pennington King Richard or Chief Linder & Associates. One officer who works at City Hall East where Pennington is also stationed, says he still hasn’t seen the chief in person in the building.
“That is his biggest failing, that he hasn’t been a personable chief,” says the recently retired Atlanta officer. “Him not being out with our troops is inexcusable, because he said that in his inauguration address, and he hasn’t fulfilled that promise, a personal commitment he made.”
Pennington chalks up part of the problem to the six months and 200 hours this 30-year police veteran had to spend at the police academy to become a certified Georgia police officer. It was a process during which he split time between headquarters and the academy. But Pennington also says he shouldn’t be expected to show up every time the camera rolls on a crime scene.
“I give my commanders the ability to run their organizations, and I feel if I have to go out there every day and do their work, then I don’t need them, and so me being up on every scene, no, I’m not that type of manager,” Pennington says, listing the layers of leadership overseeing day-to-day operations. “I go out when there are things that are critical.”
Well, then here’s hoping his troops see a little more of their chief in the near future.
kevin.griffis@creativeloafing.com