On April 10, the police cruiser’s lights penetrate a dense fog. The blue lights are close to inducing a seizure, enveloping the area in a blue cloud. As the police cruiser’s driver was talking with a possibly inebriated student, Sgt. Scott Curtis observed from a distance as the officers dealt with this particular drunk driver. Trusting in his comrades, he pulled away, awaiting the dispatcher’s next call.
A 26-year veteran officer for the University of Maine Police Department (UMPD), Curtis resumed his normal Friday night patrol like he has done countless times before. Even though the semester is almost over and students have become less and less rambunctious, Curtis and the rest of the UMPD have plenty to do across campus.
“You should see how busy we are in September and October,” Curtis said. “By the end of the year, all the major troublemakers are usually filtered out. Our job is to make sure the students get through their education alive.”
A mist-mixed fog created an eerie landscape as Curtis’s cruiser’s lights shimmered up and down the road. Around 9 p.m., Curtis and fellow officers Joseph Everett and trainee Katherine Burk had to handle a situation in a freshman dorm reported by Campus Eyes, the police department’s anonymous reporting tool.
The case was confusing at first; it was suspected that a student had submitted a fake report — possibly for revenge against the other student, but the validity of that suspicion was impossible to determine. The officers could only check in with each student and determine whether any wrongdoing was happening.
“I tell you, the older you get, the less tolerance you have for these kinds of things,” Curtis said.
Immature stunts like the fake Campus Eyes report happen all too frequently, and alcohol complaints are constant. However, Curtis noted he has rarely seen anything more severe than this kind of relatively harmless incident. No suspicious packages, no reported firearms, nothing necessarily life-threatening.
“UMaine is comparatively safer than most campuses,” Curtis said. “Its location, in Maine, is partly to thank for that. Orono isn’t a big city, so there’s not a lot of crime. [UMaine Police Department Chief Roland LaCroix] pushes us to get into the resident halls and make contact with the students.”
Curtis left the dorm and continued his route. The mist hadn’t let up, and there were few cars on the road at the late hour. As he drove around he talked about his family, his wife — an elementary school teacher — and his two children. He passed by each fraternity house, eagle-eyed for any wrongdoing — alcohol, drugs, public disturbance, anything. He noticed there were fraternity brothers standing guard outside a house, checking the visitors as they entered. He took that as a bad sign, but because there was no solid reason to investigate, he completed his patrol.
It was a quiet night, despite the seemingly-constant bombardment of radio chatter, so Curtis went and visited the New Balance Student Recreation Center. The night-long Relay for Life was happening, and walking through the public he spotted his neighbor. The two caught up for a few minutes while Curtis proudly talked about his newborn granddaughter. As quickly as he arrived, he was soon back in his cruiser patrolling the wet, foggy roads.
Curtis, Everett, Burk and Officer James Bergdoll were then called to a freshman dorm. Unlike the previous incident, the officers found several students drinking. A lengthy session of ID-checking and alcohol-testing ensued. Thanks to cooperative students and Burk’s efficient work, reinforced by an intimidating, arm-crossed Everett, the officers made the students empty their unopened alcohol and issued referrals to the Office of Student Affairs.
“I am often impressed by the character and honesty of the students I interact with,” Burk said. “That includes the students who get caught doing things that violate laws and policies. It shows an impressive understanding of responsibility, and the ability to admit wrongs. That of course is not always the case, but it is rare that I have a poor interaction with the students.”
Curtis was back in his cruiser, this time heading for his routine foot-patrol of the Doris Twitchell Allen Village (DTAV) and surrounding area. Each UMaine police officer is assigned these sort of “property checks,” and Curtis’s routine was apparent as he made small-talk with the DTAV staff. He excitedly talked about his granddaughter before heading outside to patrol the grounds. The rest of the night was quiet, and by 12 a.m. Curtis returned to the police station.
In between the night’s frequent radio calls, Curtis had related some of the worse things he had seen in his career: crazed bath salt victims, the extremity of a 2012 Dayglow concert, even an armed siege between a student and the state tactical team. As he was about to call it a night, a fellow officer radioed that he needed backup for a multi-person fight.
Curtis sprinted from the police department into his car, preparing himself, as he had done for 26 years, against whatever the night might bring him. As he peeled away from the station, the officer brought a second report to the now-speeding Curtis.
“Cancel that. Just another Humans vs. Zombies fight.”
Curtis took a sigh of relief. He continued talking about his newborn granddaughter.