This isn’t my typical column week. You shouldn’t be reading this right now. But I couldn’t wait until my scheduled slot to share what’s on my mind, so I asked the editors if I could have this space. They agreed–cautioning that this was my idea, so they weren’t obligated to throw any extra birdseed my way. But when it comes to discussing issues like public safety, I’m not in it for the birdseed.
I’m sure most of you have already heard the reports. Local print and broadcast media announced—in a somewhat subdued manner, I think—that Santa Maria Police Chief Ralph Martin has taken disciplinary action against several of his department’s officers after finishing an internal affairs investigation into the January 2012 shooting of officer Albert Covarrubias, Jr.
Covarrubias, if you’ll recall, was working a DUI checkpoint when his fellow officers attempted to bring him in for questioning after receiving information that he was having an inappropriate relationship with a 17-year-old Police Explorer. There was a struggle, and Covarrubias was killed—an action Santa Barbara County D.A. Joyce Dudley decided was justified.
But she wasn’t the only person looking into the incident. Other investigative wheels remained turning, and it seems that one has finally ground to a halt.
All I can say is it’s about damn time. The community has been waiting for the department to address this unsettling tragedy for more than a year. I commend Chief Martin for having the courage to finally do something, though I’m not quite sure what that something is. Martin couldn’t give any details about the decision to local media except that the officers involved are of various ranks and the disciplinary actions taken against said officers range in severity.
But the number of officers disciplined and the nature of their discipline—one outlet reported that two officers were fired—seem to be hazy. Martin left a message for one of the Sun’s reporters saying that he couldn’t release any personnel information, so we’re all left wondering exactly what happened to whom, and how many times.
Martin did emphasize in his message that he didn’t give out to any media any details related to the nature of the discipline, so we’re also left wondering where the scuttlebutt about officers being fired started. Unfortunately, I have a feeling that we’ll be wondering for a long while. Comments related to stories like this tend to be slow in coming—especially “no comment” comments, for some reason.
Because journalists aren’t typically patient individuals, Sun staffers also tried contacting two officers we figured—through a little deduction and detective work—might have suffered the heavier of the potential penalties theorized to have been meted out. Calls made to their personal and/or work phone numbers went unanswered. Inquires made to the department’s dispatch were unsuccessful as well. The officers in question, the dispatcher said, were “unavailable.”
That’s a lot of un’s—too many, in fact, for a little bird like me. But since we’re on this path, I’ll throw in one of my own: unacceptable. The lack of transparency throughout this whole ordeal has been completely unacceptable. I know, I know—the shooting and the investigation following it are personnel matters that legally can’t be discussed in depth with the public. But how else are we to know that the officers—and, more importantly, the department—are being held accountable for their actions?
Up until this moment, the department’s accountability track record has been highly questionable. For your consideration:
Former Police Chief Dan Macagni—the man who had the final say on whether to pick up Covarrubias at the DUI checkpoint—walked away from the department scot-free and with a plush pension to boot. He’s now spending his hard-earned retirement in Arizona, where I’m sure he’ll fit right in.
Lt. Rico Flores—the commanding officer who apparently inadvertently revealed to Covarrubias and his fellow officers that the department was looking into the Police Explorers—golden parachuted his way out of the department not long after. I vividly remember when that happened, because the department sent out a congratulatory press release announcing the retirement, accompanied by a photo of a grinning Flores standing next to his shiny police motorcycle.
I guess what I’m saying is that I’m glad the department finally punished someone—as best as we can tell—for what happened, but I think the wrong people suffered whatever wrath came down. Of course, without the necessary details, it’s difficult to know for sure.
I do know that bucks tend to flow uphill until they stop—or something like that, anyway. The tone the big badges set for the department certainly created an environment in which such a tragedy could happen. There are codes of silence and cultures of trust and all that.
But I find it hard to believe that Covarrubias’ death happened in a vacuum that left Macagni out of the loop. No matter how it played out, exactly, shouldn’t someone in charge have received some sort of rap on the knuckles? I’m speaking metaphorically, of course.
Now, even if justice of some sort has been levied, we’re left with a vague, unsettled feeling in our guts. It’s probably those remaining unanswered questions, just sitting there. Festering.
I suppose we’ll just have to trust the chief on this one. Let’s hope he’s more trustworthy than the last one.
The Canary could get used to spouting off every week. Contact her at canary@santamariasun.com.
This article appears in Mar 28 – Apr 4, 2013.
