BY SHALEECE HAAS // At 10:50 p.m. on Friday night, Emeryville police officer Andrew Cassianos pulled up alongside the flashing lights of another police car on 67th Street at San Pablo Avenue. Two officers shone their flashlights into the trunk and interior of a gray Oldsmobile sedan while the owner of the car sat handcuffed in the back of the police car, his head down.
Officer Jason Thompson had chased the man down San Pablo Avenue from 57th Street where he first clocked the car at more than 70 mph. He detained the driver and called on fellow officer Michael Pena to assist. Their search revealed an old license plate and two Ziplock bags containing small quantities of marijuana.
“One bag was just sitting there on the passenger seat.” Thompson said as he leaned against the car, holding up the bags and inspecting their contents. “He didn’t even try to hide it.”
The man, who identified himself as an in-home caregiver, was in possession of a medical marijuana card. Thompson called in the driver’s license and the medical card. Both were valid, and so he wrote the man a speeding ticket and sent him on his way.
For many, Emeryville is the home of Ikea and Pixar, a small city dedicated primarily to chain stores and high-tech companies. Where some see a destination to watch the latest blockbuster movie, Cassianos sees a hot-spot for assaults and robberies. Where some see retail therapy, Cassianos sees paper crimes like identity theft and forgery.
Cassianos’ friends tease him, saying that being a cop in Emeryville must be a boring job. Although rates of violent and major crimes in Emeryville are low compared to neighboring cities, Cassianos sees the nighttime streets of this 1.2-mile city as a setting for serious police work.
“People say nothing happens in Emeryville,” Cassianos said. “But I laugh at it and say, ‘Hey, why don’t you come on a ride along and see how busy we get.’”
“We have a lot to offer any kind of criminal here,” he said, scanning a dark residential street. He said that when he is on patrol he is constantly watching for people or things that look out of place.
The Emeryville Police Department employs 54 people, including 37 sworn police officers. That’s approximately one officer per 150 residents, as compared to one officer per 502 residents in Oakland.
Sergeant Doug Sylvester, who has been with the department for 17 years, said that because of the city’s size, the Emeryville police officers are able to respond to almost every call they receive.
“I’ve even gone to a call about a snake in the bathroom,” Sylvester said. “If you get your car broken into in Oakland, you have to file a report in the mail or online,” he said. “Our captain won’t stand for that. We’re going to go and take care of all our calls.”
At 11:08 p.m., the female dispatcher’s voice rang out over the radio, announcing a possible 5150 at the Woodfin Suites Hotel. The term “5150″ refers to a section of the California Welfare and Institutions Code that allows a police officer to involuntarily hold a person suspected of requiring psychiatric care.
Cassianos turned the volume down on the police radio, swung the Chevy Tahoe around and headed down Shellmound Street to the hotel. On the barrier between the truck’s cab and back seats hung a shotgun and a rifle.
When Cassianos arrived, Officers Pena and Andrew Yu were on site assisting a 27-year-old man who had told hotel security he was having memory problems.
The man was standing with his back against the hotel’s exterior wall. He shifted from one foot to the other, his hands clasped together in front of him. His overstuffed rucksack lay several feet away.
“He wants to be committed,” Pena said and went on to explain that the police were there to watch over him until an ambulance arrived to take the man to John George Psychiatric Pavilion in San Leandro.
“We don’t arrest them,” Pena said, his eyes never straying from the man. “They’re technically victims. They need help.”
In the time between calls, Cassianos drove slowly through the city’s 11 beats, known as reporting districts. He rolled past the known hot spots again and again – Kitty’s bar, the stretch of San Pablo between the Berkeley and Oakland city limits. He opened his window and greeted a young woman walking down a darkened street in high heels and a very short skirt.
“The prostitutes are a great source of information,” he said, rolling up his window. “You can’t stop them from doing what they do, but you can let them know you’re watching.”
At 11:55 p.m., the radio crackled and Yu requested that Cassianos bring the PAS device, a hand-held breath analyzer, to the corner of Park and San Pablo Avenues.
Yu administered a field sobriety test to a 52-year-old man, asking him to walk heel-to-toe across the sidewalk and touch his nose with his fingertips. Cassianos conducted the breath test. The device read .135 percent, a blood alcohol content above the legal limit of .08 percent.
Thompson took the man into custody while Cassianos parked the man’s Suzuki 4-door in a nearby lot.
Cassianos has been with the Emeryville police department for six years. Though no one in his immediate family serves in the force, Cassianos said he started thinking about becoming a police officer as a young boy growing up in Concord.
“Even in elementary school and junior high I was drawn to it,” he said. “I know you hear this all the time, but I really wanted to help people.”
As Cassianos maneuvered the police truck around a traffic circle on 45th Street at Salem in Emeryville’s “triangle” district, he remembered a young man he dealt with often in his first few years in the department. The boy was frequently in trouble with the police – for fighting with his peers, harassing adults and on at least one occasion, robbery.
“There was a mutual respect between us,” Cassianos said. “I’d like to think I was a role model to him, but on the flip side, I look at the outcome and I don’t know. You try to help, you chit-chat with him and the next day you have to arrest him for robbery. He ended up being shot and died in front of his house.”
“You can never try hard enough to point someone in the right direction,” Cassianos said. “But unless they want help, they’re just going to do what they want to do.”
Just after 1 a.m. Cassianos headed back toward the police station. His was the only car on the narrow stretch of Powell Street along the Emeryville Peninsula.
As he pulled to a stop in front of the station, Cassianos sat for a moment with the engine running. He removed his police-issue baseball cap to scratch his head, and replaced it, wiggling the brim to ensure a snug fit. He said he is deeply invested in his work in public service and hopes eventually to become a sergeant. Cassianos will take the qualifying exam next month.




