Joining the force: Reporter rides along with a campus narcotics officer for the night
April 16, 2014
Editor’s note: Sgt. Joe McCullough is a narcotics and street crime officer for the University Police Department. Due to the dangerous nature of his work, he asked for certain personal- and work-related information to be left out of the article. His team is a part of a federal task force and other officers in his team keep their identities secret. He agreed to let The Daily Illini tag along for the night as he patrolled campus town.
It’s around 9 p.m. on a Friday night when Sgt. Joe McCullough hears a dispatcher over the radio mention something about a robbery at University and Fifth streets in Champaign. Worst-case scenarios creep into my head as McCullough turns to me to say we should check it out.
After shaking hands in the lobby of the University Police station, McCullough led me through a hallway and out to the back. He opened the trunk of a black SUV and handed me a bulletproof vest. It’s just part of their policy, McCullough assured me, in case we encountered a dangerous situation.
I slipped on the vest and noticed how surprisingly light it felt. McCullough said it’s so flexible and thin that he can crumble it into a ball. But it will stop a bullet from penetrating the chest.
“Getting shot with the vest on is like getting hit with a Major League home run in the chest,” McCullough said. “There will be bad bruising and the officer’s body may feel terrible, but they’ll still be alive.”
Get The Daily Illini in your inbox!
McCullough himself has never been shot, nor has he ever had to use his gun. But the potential for a highly dangerous situation has been clear to him.
“We find a gun in a waistband, or we find a gun under the seat, or we serve a search warrant at an apartment and see a loaded gun next to drugs,” he said.
McCullough passed me a waiver form to sign. The University Police Department would not be held liable should something happen to me. Then, we hopped into McCullough’s undercover SUV and drove off.
Now, we’re closing in on University and Fifth. I ask McCullough whether he had gotten nervous in the 14 or 15 years he had been an officer.
“Man, we still do,” McCullough says. “When we’re dealing with people who have potentially been armed in the past or have a history of arrests — and we’re dealing with them — it’s always uneasy. We always remind ourselves that we don’t ever, ever want to be complacent. Ever. There’s probably an issue if there’s no nerves in some of those things.”
We see a couple other patrol cars driving around when we get there. McCullough says that the other officers will handle the theft and that he doesn’t want to overcrowd the area. As we leave the area, fuzzy updates come through McCullough’s radio. The officers were looking for a man who stole a purse and went through an alley. At the time of publication, the thief had not yet been caught.
Weaving our way around campus, McCullough talked about his job between cellphone calls from other officers and constant radio calls.
He says he’s noticed an uptick in harder drugs on campus — DMT, MDMA (known as molly), cocaine and heroin.
When he mentions heroin, he says it’s one of the most damaging drugs to a person’s life. When someone commits a robbery for only $20 or $30, people joke about how stupid it seems. But to the addict, McCullough explains, that was what they needed for their next fix. As a narcotics officer, these are the types of people he deals with: addicts, along with drug dealers, cartels and gangs.
When he and his team complete a drug bust, the narcotics unit gets a portion of the money that was seized. He says the equipment, vehicles, drug dogs, computers and even guns have been bought with this money. This is a great idea, McCullough says, because it eliminates citizens from paying taxes for these things.
We pull up in front of Joe’s Brewery on Fifth Street and park while a couple other cops stand with a man outside his car. They give him a breathalyzer test and find an open alcoholic drink within the car. While we watch, the country station that McCullough listens to plays a love song.
McCullough says University police are not out to get student drinkers. As long as the drinkers aren’t giving police the finger and arguing back with them, officers often let them off with a warning — as long as they aren’t trying to drive.
“A lot of times we’re just looking for compliance and honesty,” he says. “Because if you think about it, how many underage drinkers do you think are out there right now? Thousands.”
In a call to another officer, McCullough remarks that the clear and warm night has brought students outside in droves. But he says it’s still been quiet.
We turn onto Armory and First streets and see a few other undisguised cop cars with their lights beaming. A light grey SUV is pulled over and a man is being questioned. It started off as a traffic stop, but the officers smelled marijuana inside the SUV. They began to search the vehicle. But they couldn’t find the source of the smell. So, McCullough decides to leave and parks in the parking lot of a Brazilian Jiu Jitsu place that gives lessons in its warehouse. He walked across the street to question the owner of a nearby store where he was seen. McCullough asked the owner whether he had seen the man drop any marijuana.
Not until later did the officers find out where the smell was coming from. The man in question finally admitted to hiding the marijuana in his underwear.
“We deal with that a lot around here,” McCullough says about marijuana cases.
In the down time, as we drive around throughout the night, McCullough discusses some of the extreme cases the University Police Department handles.
“We have a bomb squad. We have officers assigned to the metropolitan SWAT team,” he says.
“Were you there, I think it was a few weeks ago, at the Education building where there was some sort of…” I respond, but don’t get a chance to finish my sentence before McCullough pushes his answer.
“That is not my forte: bombs,” he says, chuckling. “We hold the scene for the bomb guys that come in and do that sort of stuff.”
“See that hand,” McCullough says as he wobbles his hand around. “You don’t want me cutting the red wire. It’s not that bad, but I’m just saying … they’re good at what they do.”
In addition to McCullough’s narcotics and street crimes work, he is part of ongoing training for school shootings and attacks. Though he said events like the recent stabbings at the Pennsylvania high school are unfortunate, the University officers learn from them. They do simulations, shooting simulation rounds that can draw blood.
Around 11:30 p.m., McCullough pulls into the station. He’ll be on patrol until 4 a.m., but my time on the tag-along has ended. Secretly, I wish that something crazy had happened while I was shadowing a police officer for the night. Something dangerous. Something that would play out like a movie.
But McCullough knows officers who have had their lives threatened and knows how terrible it can be for everyone involved.
“I remember when I did ride along, I was hoping for something exciting,” McCullough says as he walks me to the front of the police station. “But quiet is good.”
Stanton can be reached at [email protected].