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And the beat goes on

And the beat goes on

11     To judge from television, all policemen must be deaf after a year in the job. When
2 they 're not shouting at suspects or each other, they're slamming car doors as they race
3 into action under wailing sirens; occasionally, people fire noisy guns in their direction.
4 Yet most real policemen must go to work each day with much less fear than an inner-city
5 teacher, and some of the best make their jobs sound really enjoyable.
26     Alan Godfrey (K 423) has been walking the beat1) in North Woolwich2) for 24 and a
7 half years now. He would fail any screen-test for a part as a television policeman.
38     North Woolwich is still a small community. 'Everyone knows everyone round
9 here,' he says. 'You can't sneeze without three people hearing it. And it helps us to know
10 the villains, and to say hello when we see them. Then, when you've got to arrest them, you
11 say hello, and then ''I'm arresting you for whatever".'
412     We walk through shabby alleyways past nailed-up and graffiti-covered sheds to a
13 seven-storey block of flats. At the top of the block live the Akbar family, as they have
14 done for the past eight years. They have been the victims of the sort of small-scale
15 violence against Asian families that hardly ever makes news and is difficult for
16 conventional policing to stop.
517     'You've got to catch them at it,' says Godfrey. 'I've spent so many hours waiting;
18 drunk endless cups of Asian tea and eaten more curries than you'd believe, but they never
19 come when I'm around.' One of the disadvantages of being a policeman who knows
20 everyone on the beat is that everyone knows you and your rounds, which makes life
21 rather easier for the local vandals.
622     'Those kids have not even finished school or they have no jobs,' Mrs Akbar says.
23 'We have a much greater right to be here than they have. But they 're not criminals. In a
24 way I feel sorry for them. They've got nothing to do round here.'
725     As we walked away, I asked Godfrey what he considered the worst side of his job.
26 'Weil, some of the sudden deaths can be pretty awful,' he says. 'But there's a switch in my
27 head, and I just turn it off. I can remember every dead face I've seen in the job. But when
28 you're there you just tell yourself that it's not your family, and somebody's got to clean
29 the whole mess up.
830     Bringing bad news to people can be pretty awful too. I mean, you can't just go up to
31 a house and say "Mrs Bloggs? I've got some bad news for you. Your husband's just died
32 in a car accident." No, what I do is go next door first and tell the neighbour, and get her
33 ready to come round with me and make a cup of tea. Then you knock on the door and say
34 "Mrs Bloggs" and she says "What is it?", and you say 'I'm afraid I've got some bad news
35 for you", and she says "My husband!" 'I'm afraid so.' "Is he dead?" "Yes, I'm afraid
36 so.' And she says, "I told him not to go out today. I told him it was too rainy.' And you
37 see, she's telling you what she wants to hear. All you have to do is listen. And after a while
38 I leave her with the neighbour, someone she knows, who makes a cup of tea.'
939     'There's a great divide in the force between the old-fashioned people like me, who
40 came in because they thought it was avocation - I had had jobs, I had done National
41 Service - and the young one s who think it is a career,' Godfrey says. 'I came in naively
42 thinking that I was going to serve the public - and I've ended up serving the public!'
 
     from You, April 27, 1986


noot 1: to walk the beat = wijkagent zijn
noot 2: North Woolwich: a part of London