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Port Perry Star, 5 Jul 1989, p. 36

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a I vy ~ ot, Cit 36 -- PORT PERRY STAR -- Wednesday, July 5, 1989 Bulletproof vest and bed making at OPP Academy (From page 29) tress. Fold back the head of the top sheet 15 inches so that you have a 15 inch area at the head of the bed showing the bottom sheet (where the pillow will be), and also a 15 inch turn down of the top sheet...The entire bed will be tightened. No wrinkles or creases." What is this, we wondered. Would there be a bed-making inspection in the morning? Would we get thrown out, or worse, yelled at if the beds wer- en't made properly? Not that we had a lot of time to mourn our beds. I'd been up since the crack of dawn--by 7:30 a.m. I was quaff- ing coffee. By 8 a.m., the day was underway and all the Acad- emy's top brass assembled in the dorm to greet us. Supt. Bob Gay said he hoped we all slept soundly. "A good night's sleep," he said with a grin," will come in handy. I hope you have your wits about you because you'll be needing them." h Th ti 'They're going to line us all up and shoot us.' ohn wasn't as worried about it as Nancy and I and another reporter that joined us, Arlon- na Hendrich of New Hamburg. John was raised by a real mil- itary man, his father, who had taught his son all about hospital tucks and such. Me, Nancy and Arlonna of- fered to pay John to make our beds. Helaughed at us. But the next morning, he made Nancy's (she must have paid him a bundle). And as it turned out, John and Nancy were the only ones whose beds were spared the wrath of Sgt. Walton, who tore beds apart like little kids un- wrap Christmas presents. With a straight face he an- nounced, "Some of you may nev- er have to make your beds again--and maybe that's a good thing." WS ) ' i # the point--our orders followed. First off, we had to get dressed. The bulletproof vest went on next to our skin. They fit like a tank top, with velcro straps, and although they're fairly light, one officer quipped, "They only weigh a few ounces, but by the end of the day, they'll feel like 20 pounds." Boy, was he right. One reporter whispered, "They're test vests. They're go- ing to lind us all up and shoot us and say, yeah, that one works-- oops, sorry about that one." Fortunately her prediction was wrong. We wore the vests because real recruits wear them throughout their training. The process simply gives recruits a good habit. With our beds made and our gear on, the media recruits were ready for our first assign- John Smith didn't look too thrilled when Constable Tom Lefrance, an expert In the identification field, fingerprinted the reluctant reporter. Everyone learned how to fingerprint but Arionna Henrich of New Hamburg earned top marks for her prints. ment. As we left the dorm, the words of Sgt. Walton followed us like an old Hill Street Blues re-run--"Let's be careful out there!" Our assignment was to locate a missing person, a fictional man named Mark Fornier, last seen three days earlier. We were given a "police re- port" with the man's descrip- tion, and this information: "08:20 hrs Thurs 29 Jun 89 Report received from Const. Laura Banks. While on routine patrol located a blue Malibu, plate No. TYE 993 (registered to Mark Fornier) apparently abandoned in a bush area just south west of Queen St. and McLaughlin Rd. in Brampton. The Detachment Command- er dispatches all available per- onnel to search the bush. Assistance from the helicop- ter and K9 sections has also f been requested." Coincidentally, the car was found on the Academy grounds (!) so we all trekked over to a field near the car to form a search line. These human chains are a staple in finding missing per- sons. Professionals form a straight li ith individual Vv fi NE O O O [Looking good! | felt right at home behind the wheel of this cruiser, but | didn't feel so comfortable when | had to pull someone over for speeding. Lucky for the lady speeder | was In a good mood and let her off with just a warning. butts and all manner of clues. We had destroyed the crime scene. The instructor was not im- pressed. Max could have done a better job than we had. We left the forest, walking funny because our collective tail Max the dog is a better cop than we are. five feet apart, and walk slowly over the area, combing it for clues. Well, our line wasn't so straight, even though we got yelled at over and over to "WATCHYOURNESTING!" Oh well, so we're not trained professionals (our line looked more like a hair curler than a comb). Regardless of our nesting, we did find the car (it was in plain sight). And then WHOOSH, the OPP helicopter came out of nowhere and landed smack dab in the middle of the field. Just as abruptly the star of the show stepped out with his trainer. Max, a healthy happy- looking German Shepherd, strode smartly over to the car and proceeded to sniff out a cache of marijuana hidden un- der the front seat. Needless to say we were im- pressed. But we hardly had a chance to introduce ourselves to the smart K9 before we took our chain line to the forest to search for clues to the missing man. With mosquitoes the size of the OPP helicopter buzzing our heads, we sloshed through swamp, through trees and around prickly bushes. Our line grew even more crooked. We got yelled at some more. Worse, we weren't finding any clues. And then someone screamed. "I FOUND HIM, I FOUND HIM, HE'S RIGHT HERE!" A body! We forgot all about our "nesting" and ran like idiots to where one of the recruits was standing over the unfortunate Mr. Fornier--a fake blood- coated mannequin hidden un- der a pile of brush. We gawked at the body for about a minute before the search and rescue instructor launched into us about "step- pingon evidence." Sure enough, we had tram- pled on footprints, cigarette eteria where we assauged our wounded pride, we were divided into four squads. Nancy, John and Susan De- Ryk from the Tillsonburg News were on my team (yay,l thought. I've got the best bed- makers on my squad). Our first mission was han- dling routine stops--that's what the-police call it when they pull us over for speeding. We all took turns behind the Sen + bd » i After a short break in the caf 2h £3 EL one at anf wheel of a real cruiser, and were marked on our abilities to stop a speeder and give a ticket with- out causing ascene. IT tell ya, I was more nervous giving a ticket than I've ever been getting one. Luckily I've been given enough tickets in my time that I didn't find the task too difficult. After the routine stops, we went into a classroom to learn how to fingerprint. I made sure ~ I took my print sheet with me (I don't want those things getting into the computer, uh-uh). I did Susan's prints and she did mine. We were both ink- coated by the time our next ex- ercise rolled around. We were still looking for Mr. Fornier's killer. We had learned from another officer that Forni- er was to have completed a drug 'deal with another fictional dude named Philip Rollins (who also happened to live at the Acade- my). Also, Fornier was last seen (Turn to page 37) Crs $a Max, the smartest dog I've ever met, helped the reporters In a search and rescue mission by sniffing out a hidden cache of marijuana. Like any real celebrity, this intelligent member of the OPP's K9 unit was flown to the scene by hell- copter.

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