CSI

I was boxing my CSI reports for attic storage this weekend, and I came across this poem. It was written by one of my CSI coworkers when we were having some really hard times in the unit. The department was telling us they had no money to give us raises – or even keep us in gloves and fingerprint tape – but they had $80,000 to bring in an efficiency expert to tell them where the problems were in the department. We also had a supervisor who refused to back us, even when officers told us to do something that was clearly against the rules. For some reason, it didn’t bother him (or anyone else in command) that most officers didn’t seem to have a clue about what was actually legal in a crime scene search. We got a sergeant as a supervisor before I left, but the problem with that was that the CSI unit was civilian, not sworn.

From what I’ve heard the times I’ve had to go back to testify, things never really improved in the unit. Between that and the record high of homicides last year, its hard for me to really miss the place. I miss the work sometimes, and being outside, and the relative freedom. And being trusted and respected for my abilities by those higher in the chain. Unlike some folks, I didn't mind belly-crawling through body fluids, if it got me what I needed. Or that sometimes it took four showers and three days of driving with my windows down to get the stench of death off me and out my car. But then it’ll rain for two days, or the temps will be in the high 90s for a month, and I realize that desk work really isn’t such a horrible thing. Plus, even though sitting aggravates my knee, it doesn’t hurt as much as standing on it all day. Every now and then, though, I just sit here and wonder what the heck it is I’m doing with my life. Granted, I’m good at what I do, but I don’t enjoy it like I did the investigation work. I miss being allowed to think for myself. I miss the challenge. I miss figuring out what happened to someone, and how, and looking at a scene and pulling out the information that all those inanimate objects can provide, if you just know how to ask the right question. I just can’t help but think I was meant to do more than sit at a desk and push paper around.

“Work smarter not harder” is to be our new decree.
Haven’t seen it yet, but sounds good to me.

Things will be changing, but not over night.
Haven’t seen it yet, but there’s a chance they might.

Study groups and meetings are set into place.
A lot of BS instead of lying to our face.

They’re waiting on this, they’re waiting on that.
We’ll only wait so long before smelling a rat.

“We’ll leave no stone unturned” is what we’re told.
From what I’ve seen, I’m not sold.

Actions louder than words, you better get it in gear,
Or some day soon none of us will be here.

We’re broke, fed up, and tired of this shit.
What will you do when we all quit?

“We’ve got stacks of applications, you can all be replaced”…oh, give me a break.
Just who’s going to train them, for God’s sake?

No budget for training, supplies, or increase in pay.
City manager got a raise, what can I say?

Two helicopters, an urban assault tank…
Did all other departments rob a bank?

Stepping in blood, brains, and bile…
Have city council try this for a while.

Just continue to search for where the problems fall.
If you want the answer, we’ll be out searching for a person in charge who has balls.