Derek's Memoirs Part 3

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Since I was 16 years old I always had a job, and this is something my mom instilled in me from very early on in my life. When we first moved to Canada, my mom had to start her career over, and I admire her accomplishments in that field. Her first job was as a care-taker for the elderly, which is not an easy job at all, and for very little money. While she was moving a patient, her back went out and she was bed-ridden for about a month with a slipped disc. She eventually had to go on welfare to support us - great woman. My mom also drove myself and all of my friends around to basketball and soccer tournaments, and I can't say enough good things about her. Love you mom.



One of my favourite jobs was at the Save-On Foods store on number 3 road in Richmond. I started as a service clerk making $7.00 an hour, and our duties included packing bags, doing perishable returns, and collecting all the shopping carts in the parking lot. One thing that a lot of the staff there were doing is stealing, and I’ll admit it - I stole stuff from Save-On Foods, which was very dumb. It wasn’t anything major, just those little lunch snack packs from the deli department.
I don’t know who eventually created it, but we even had a little break time oasis, created on the down low above the bottle return near the produce department. To get there you had to climb on top of a bunch of boxes, and jump up to the roof where they stored boxes of plastic bags. A bunch of us moved them around so we had a mini break room, where we could eat our stolen food in peace - and we ALL used it. One day I was up there eating away, and I heard the store manager Dennis, and the assistant manager Dave Palumbo walking towards me. Dave Palumbo was a real dick head by the way, and a horrible boss. Anyways, somehow they found out about our hideaway, and they were going to investigate. I could hear Dave Palumbo trying to climb up the boxes, to get to our oasis, and I was freaking out. Unfortunately he was too fat to make the journey, and they gave up. Of course we took it down it before it was ultimately discovered.



My other favourite story was when I had to help arrest a shoplifter. We had a couple of regular store detectives, who would work normally during the day trying to catch shoplifters. You can always spot them because they never have anything perishable in their basket - something that will will thaw or spoil while walking around. Sometimes when they arrested someone we would have to be in the room with them, just to witness things until the police got there. My favourites were the young, usually Chinese couples, that got caught stealing pregnancy tests. If it was a minor then their parents had to be contacted. I’m not sure what was more embarrassing for them - getting caught stealing, or their parents finding out they were pregnant.



Sometimes if the store detective needed help, he or she would notify a cashier and they would broadcast a code word over the speakers in the store. Then all the men that were available would run out to help. And yes I said men because for some reason the women didn’t run out to help. It’s nothing sexist that’s just the way it worked. Anyways, one day the code went out, but I happened to already be outside gathering the buggies. The first person that walked out was this 6’5 biker wearing steel toe boots, a leather jacket and a long pony tail. Next the store detective walked out - he looked exactly like a ginger version of Seth Green, but even smaller. And no one else walked out to help. Seth Green told the he was under arrest for stealing, and to come in the store. Biker man said forget it, he said he would just give back what he stole and leave. So he opened up his jacket, and I’ve never seen someone stuff so many steaks and ribs inside a piece of clothing. Normally people stole either meat or cosmetics because they were very expensive, or pregnancy tests because of the embarrassment. So he took all the meat, dumped it on the ground and took off running. As soon as he did we both ran after him, but I was way faster at this age than Seth Green. This biker ran through the parking lot, across the street and into another small shopping complex. He was pretty quick for someone in boots, but I eventually caught up to him and pushed him on the ground. Then I soon realized, what the hell am I gonna do now? This guy was taller than me, with about a 100 pound weight advantage. Thank God Romi the produce manager and a guy named Jim came to help. Jim was a bouncer at Frank’s Place, a classic club in Richmond, and Romi was huge so we all dragged him into the store.



The other job that I really enjoyed was called Challenge 92. This program was only open to college or university students who were minorities, and interested in a career in policing. I was taking criminology at Simon Fraser University, and trying to obtain my criminology degree. At this time there were very few minorities in law enforcement, and the Delta Police Department (DPD) only had one east indian officer. This program was sponsored by the DPD to encourage visible minorities to join their department. There were five of us - one other black guy, an east indian university student, and two aboriginal hires, one was named Derek as well. It ran for a total of 14 weeks and we got paid $10 an hour. For the first 7 weeks we rode along with various police officers during their 12 hour shifts, strictly as observers. All we had were notebooks to write in, just in case we witnessed anything and had to testify in court. For the next 7 weeks we attended businesses in the north delta area, promoting the new community police station, a new concept at the time. What I first noticed as I heard from the other officers is the force was very racist. The motorcycle cops used to dress up just like the SS, and they would leave natzi literature in the lunch room.



My first ride-along partner was actually the only east indian member, and he was pretty cool. I didn’t witness anything interesting on his rides, but right after the shift briefing at 6 in the morning we would go to his house for breakfast. Yes, this was during shift, and it was normally for about an hour.



The second officer I rode with was a guy named Jim, and he was a very odd guy. At this time the DPD covered Ladner, North Delta and Tsawwassen, which was home to the Boundary Bay border crossing. For anyone unfamiliar with this part of the world, Point Roberts is a piece of land that is part of the United States, but the only way to access it by land is through Canada, or by boat from Washington State. It mostly consisted of very odd, american citizens and residents who for some reason were trying to escape from the rest of the world, a couple bars, a food store, cabins, a few restaurants and a few courier and mail businesses. Later when I was a student customs officer there, Jim Poulin would come by to hang out - and steal the officer’s lunches from the fridge. Who does that as a police officer?! On our first shift in Tsawwassen, I think we got one or two calls during the 12 hours. In the middle of the shift, we went to one of their little sub offices where officers could write reports. We walked in the office and Jim Poulin sat down and turned all the lights out. Then he put his feet up on the desk, turned up his radio really loud to avoid missing calls, and proceeded to nap. So I joined him and we had a nice hour long nap in the middle of his shift.



Most of the calls in Delta at the time were break and enters, stolen cars and other run of the mill stuff. These were the days when police actually responded to this type of minor crime. Now you just call a clerk at the police station and file a report. My favourite call happened on the very last shift of my ride alongs. I was with a Delta member on Scott Road in Delta, when we received a call about a break and enter that had just been discovered. A junkie had broken into an ex police officer’s house, while he and his wife were asleep upstairs. The wife noticed the kitchen light on and came down while the perp was still there, turned it out and went back to bed. The perp stole a bunch of their stuff, put it in the trunk of the car, stole it and drove off. We were in the last 30 minutes of our 6pm to 6am graveyard shift, and we were both absolutely exhausted. He said, “Let’s take one cruise down Scott Road to see if we can find this guy. If we see nothing, we will head back to the office in Ladner and head home.” About thirty seconds later we see the car screaming towards us down Scott Road. The member made a U-turn to pursue the vehicle, and immediately the guy slowed down to about 30 kilometres and hour. The member called in our discovery, then put his lights on. The guy took off right away at about 100 kilometers an hour. It's a good thing it was that early in the morning because there was hardly any other traffic on the street. The guy continues to tear down the road, then turns into a Bino’s parking lot on the Surrey side. Remember that restaurant Vancouver folks? Anyways, he rips through the parking lot, and down a side street. As he approaches a sidewalk and an abandoned house, he opens the door and tried to bail but he got caught in the seat belt, so he’s hanging half out of the car. The car hops a curb into the lot and he eventually falls onto the street, and the wheels almost crushed his head. We pulled up behind him and the guy takes off running. Now keep in mind I was 19 years old, never been in a real fight, and all I had was a notebook and a pen. My plan was to stay in the car and not getting involved as instructed by our training, but the cop says “Get out let’s go!” So I get out of the car to chase this hype who is about 6’3, and weighs about 120 pounds. The cop catches up to him, grabs him, and this guy just pushes him to the ground and starts running - with no backup around. The cops yells at me,”Go get him go!” So I’m chasing this guy through this yard and he tries to jump between some bushes. Remember, I was pretty quick so I caught up with him easily and threw him to the ground. Finally, my ride along partner huffs it over and arrests him. Within minutes, we had several cars from the Surrey Detachment because the arrest actually happened in their city. So he throws the guy into the back of his car, and by this time it’s probably about 7 o’clock and we were falling asleep on our feet. As soon as I got in the car I could smell something funky, and the guy crapped his pants because he was so scared - it was disgusting. All the way home he’s calling me names like niggar and a sellout, and the cop said “Just let him talk and keep taking notes.”



After we get back to the office, he has to complete a lengthy report - by hand - before we can go home. So, I sit there for about 2 hours while he’s writing so slow, and at the very end all he says is - and then you threw him to the ground. Not much credit in my opinion since I actually arrested him, but it was still a great experience.

This is how racist this Delta Police Department was at the time. One of the other students, also named Derek, had applied to the DPD and the Vancouver Police Department at the same time. He was a super cool guy, well educated, well spoken and had life experience, so hiring him to me seemed like a wrap. At our ending ceremony the Delta Police Chief gave a rave review of Derek, and said it was too bad they couldn’t hire him for whatever reason.. Derek told me later that the VPD had already hired him, so he didn’t really care. I’ve seen him a few times and he’s still in the traffic section, but if DPD really wanted to hire him they could have, easily.



One summer after this job, when I was in my early 20’s, I traveled to the Bahamas to work at my dad’s club. I wanted to learn the business, and also practice enough to play in the show. At that time I only knew how to play saxophone, but while there I took a few drum lessons. All I did every day was get up early in the morning, go to the club while it was closed and practice drums and saxophone. Then I would head home, nap, and come right back to work at the club. I worked the door with my boys Greg and Ali, who were both friends of my dad’s. They both had very good day jobs, but like a lot of other Bahamians, they had more than one job. Greg worked for the Ministry of Tourism, and Ali had a good job as a mechanic with Coke. Papa always let Bahamians watch the show for free, no cover charge at all. I also worked the cash, managed the staff, and I also had a stint in the kitchen with the chef Venal. Venal was papa’s cousin, and he is an EXCELLENT chef. Eventually I got good enough to play saxophone in the show during the fire dance. After enough time and practice, I was good enough to also play drums in the show. The drummer at the time was Kendall Flowers, who has since passed away.

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