Ron’s urban diary: Merry Christmas, Worcester Police Officer Thomas Daly!

By Ron O’Clair

I am pleased to have spoken with you yesterday outside the “ground zero” property that I have managed for the last decade as the Building & Property Superintendent of 703-711 Main Street. I had been watching activity from the front seat of my vintage 1995 Chevrolet full size van with 56,565 original miles when you had passed by my block on your way around to end up coming down Charlton Street, where I motioned you to a stop as I was exiting my vehicle.

I thought at first glance that you were Officer Jon Kachadoorian, whom I have come to know from my route, and who is an exceptional example of Worcester’s finest. I authored him a nice letter of commendation for the assistance he provided to me when my other vehicle, the 4X4 GMC pick-up with the minute mount plow had been broken into and I caught one of the crack whores that frequent my neighborhood asleep inside what had been a locked vehicle until I caught her inside and yanked her out by her feet. The story was in one of the 4 editions of the InCity Times that I gave you to read for your enjoyment.

I was pleased that you took a couple of minutes out of your busy day to speak with me, and I truly enjoyed the experience. It is refreshing to note the recent change of attitudes displayed as regards me by the various members of the department that I have been trying to enlist as allies in my crusade to retake the streets in my area from the criminal conspiracy to traffic narcotics that has been an ongoing problem here for the entire decade of my responsibility as the building superintendent, and seven more years that I was a resident of the rooming house before that.

It was not always so, and I have the chapters to prove it.

We are all in this together, and need to work together to turn the tide for a better future for the City of Worcester, which I hope to make the first community in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts to be able to succeed where so many others have failed utterly to maintain the peace, restore civility in the streets, and make the streets safe for all to use and enjoy without fear as they go on about their legal and lawful business.

It is my plan to bring the different factions that are working very hard, each in their own unique way to lead the lost sheep that despoil my neighborhood back into the fold, in a united effort to combine forces and work together towards the common goal of rehabilitation and treatment of the drug and alcohol addicted who are a continual drain on the resources of the various agencies, yet repeatedly relapse back into the same old routine after incarceration or treatment for their addictive behaviors.
The majority of these people pick up the needle or the crack pipe the very same day they are returned to the streets of our community after a period of forced withdrawal via arrest and detainment for one violation of the law or another in the long list of crimes they commit daily to support their drug habits.

The way it is now, all these factions are pulling in different directions, and it is as if we were in a round lifeboat in a sea of anarchy, with everyone pulling away from everyone else in chaos, getting the boat nowhere fast. The plain and simple truth of the matter is that the addicted take the handouts meant to help them, and find ways to use the assistance to further their addiction, rather than get clean and sober. Whatever they receive in the way of well meaning help is turned into revenue to buy more drugs.

The only way treatment will ever work, is that you have to get the addicted to want to change, and to better themselves with an invasive program of recovery aimed at enabling them to see that there is hope for a better future, and that they are all worthy of redemption.
It is a multifaceted enigma that has boggled the best minds in the business as to how to go about the task. I have spent the better part of my life studying the human condition, and have much knowledge acquired at great cost to me in personal sacrifice. Having over thirty years in the fellowship myself, I have seen and heard every excuse there is for why people continue to destroy themselves with alcohol and drug abuse.

I will safely estimate that over 85% of the crime that goes on daily in our City of Worcester can be laid squarely on the doorstep of drug and alcohol addiction, and the continual struggle to feed the habits of the drug addicted. There is a vast underground economy that revolves around stolen goods and services that are bartered for drugs.

There has emerged a counterculture that is so wrapped up in the throes of addiction since the introduction of crack cocaine to the mix of available drugs being sold on the streets of our fair city. I see them each and every day and night from my perch here with the birds eye view at ground zero. It does not take a rocket scientist to know what they are doing, and they have become so brazen that you can not only see them in the act, you can hear them making the deals out in the open with no fear of being apprehended.

This in not, surprisingly enough, the failure of the police that is to blame for this rampant lawlessness, though most people will point their fingers your way and try to blame it all on lackluster performance of your police duties. I have learned through my observations that the police are hampered in the performance of their duties by several factors, the least of which is officer malfeasance.

The citizens have failed the police.

The police have not failed the citizens.

At least not all of them, there are of course instances of corruption and malfeasance, it is inevitable, they are only human, under a lot of stress, and there are times that when they are caught in a lie, rather than do the honorable thing of confessing and seeking forgiveness for their transgression, they attempt to cover it up with one excuse after another. More honesty and integrity in the small percentage of officers that this statement applies too would go a long way toward reclaiming lost prestige and respect from the general public and engender better community relations as a result.

(Yes, Officer Balsavitch, this applies to you too, I am still awaiting my apology for the time you physically attacked me after I returned to the building from 18 hours of shoveling snow to need to call the police for the usual bullshit back in the days of Joanne Delaney, Lori and Randy Carr, former tenants who were, as usual drunk and causing a disturbance. You accused me of rolling my eyes your way in disrespect just prior to attacking me – I don’t forget those type of incidents – but I do forgive when asked nicely too.)

The solution will not come with adding more and more police, and building more and more jails. That approach only adds to the burden on the taxpayer who has to pay for the increased personnel and construction of more space to warehouse inmates which despite programs that are in place to curb recidivism do not seem to be having much effect on keeping the released inmate clean and sober for any length of time once they return to their old haunts, and the “friends” they are used to using with.
A true friend would encourage them to put the heroin or crack down for good, their using friends hate to see anyone succeed in recovery and when you are trying to stay straight, you get more offers for a free bag, or a free hit of crack then you ever did when you were firmly on the hook and a steady source of income for the dealers to grow rich on the illegal gains.
American citizenship demands that a citizen do their civic duty to help the police maintain order and discipline in the community in which they reside. Three short city blocks south of Federal Plaza, Main Street in Worcester turns into a ghetto of crack and heroin addicted persons perpetually engaged in the pursuit of money to finance drug habits. This is a legacy from the days of the former PIP having been located here, and the drug consuming public knowing that it is the place to go to score their drug of choice. It is a 24/7/365 day pursuit.

It would not be possible for this to have happened here without the indifference shown by a large portion of the average American citizens of Worcester having failed to understand and comply with the requirements of their civic duty.
The drug culture has spawned generations of people that have no idea of what it means to be a man, and live by the code that makes a man a man.

There is no honor to be found, or precious little at any rate.

It has become accepted practice to take everything there is to be gotten in an entitlement mentality that was designed to be temporary assistance to the truly needy, and make it a lifestyle choice. There is no shame in our society, most everyone is out to get as much as they can without putting any effort into making contributions to pay for it.

Food Stamps, SSDI, Welfare, Fuel Assistance, Section 8 housing, earned income tax credits for people that have never even held a job, but produce offspring out of wedlock that are not being supported by the father of the child, who often has several children that he is not supporting with different mothers.

None of those things would have been allowed to transpire in our America of the past.

What made America great half a century ago has all but disappeared in today’s society.

Pause @03:29 Hours.

Resume @07:27 Hours.

That is why, Officer Thomas Daly, that it was so refreshing having that two minutes of camaraderie with you as a fellow crime fighter engaged in the battle to reclaim our city streets. I may not wear a badge, but I damn sure should have a cape and a mask as I go on about the legal and lawful business that I have been engaged in these last 27 years and 85 days as of today since the day “Chewy” got his leg broken by me for his attempt to deprive me of the oxygen I need to survive, and I embarked on my quest for the answers to the questions I had as to why.

Why did he do it?

Why did the corrupt Worcester County Administration of that time cover for him, rather than charge him for attempted murder? Or at the very least charge him with assault of a prisoner in restraints?

Judge Paul V. Mullaney, (Retired) is still alive, God bless him, and he and I have since become friends despite his signing the 20 day observation order that was part of the attempt to discredit this honorable former Staff Sergeant of the United States Air Force, Reserve of the Air Force who was, and is a victim of that corruption.

He is my last and best hope for vindication seeing as how Judge William J. Luby is deceased, and Attorney Kevin Reynolds has been disbarred. It was with their assistance that I was released into my own custody the day after, (The day after!) being declared legally mentally incompetent and having had my sister Dorothy appointed my legal guardian, which was on the 14th day of the 15 days I spent at Worcester State Hospital while they tried to destroy my credibility to ensure a rosy future for “Chewy” who has been collecting full disability and benefits all this time I have been struggling to buy postage and ink for my printer to develop my skills as a writer to tell this story, and get paid for it as was my intention all along when I agreed not to sue the County if they released me immediately as they did.

The records exist, the proof is in my record of honesty and integrity, as well as the simple physics that would clearly show that the injuries inflicted on “Chewy’s” leg could not have resulted from a simple fall on water I purposely poured on the floor in my protest to that filthy holding cell that they refused to clean while I was in it.

You bet your ass they cleaned the formerly spotless hallway though, it was nice and tidy when they took “Chewy” out on a gurney while I gasped for oxygen with a crushed Larynx from his hand crushing my windpipe.

Once I was released 15 days after Chewy and I had our little lesson teaching episode, I thought that I could put the incident behind me and go on with my life as I saw fit, but the stigma of having been incarcerated in the State Hospital followed me around the rest of my days. I was never treated the same way by family, friends, associates, or even my unit members at Westover Air Force Base.

Like the actor in the movie, I had received the four white feathers and had no choice as I saw it than to attempt against all odds to prove my record of honesty and integrity was beyond reproach in order to maintain my personal sense of honor.
People without honor would never understand why I spent these last 27 years and 85 days and still counting seeking that which is mine by right, and that which I deserve, my honor. I cannot rest until my old unit members take back their feathers, and that has not happened yet.
I will keep at it, and I hope to one day get those feathers recalled.

Unless and until I finally publish my story, I don’t see it happening.

Merry Christmas 2013 Officer Daly, you have the author’s permission to make and distribute as many copies of this intellectual property of the author as you can afford too, I can’t afford to pay for the ink.

I think you know from this narrative what I would like to get for Christmas this year, those damn feathers.

End @08:06 Hours, 24 December 2013 Word count: 2,450

Leave a Reply