Butch Didn’t Need Bullets!!!

   In August of 1977, I made a decision to change careers. After having been a teacher and coach for several years, I decided that the job of police officer might be a good occupation. The Sheriff’s department had posted an opening for deputy sheriff in the newspaper, so I called to find out what the deadline was for applications. The Sheriff at that time was Glen Sillery, and his wife Norma, who served as the jail matron, answered the phone. It was the last day to apply, so I drove to the jail on Covington Street and filled out a 2-page application. Interviews for all applicants were to be held the next evening.

  When I arrived, there were approximately 12-15 men in the lobby waiting to be interviewed. A few had been reserve police officers. I had no law enforcement experience. I sat there, wondering why I had even applied, and then it was my turn to be interviewed by Sheriff Sillery, Chief Deputy Charlie Stewart, and the Merit Board members.

   The interview lasted all of five minutes. I drove home and told my wife that I had very little chance of being hired. Around 10 o’clock the phone rang. It was Sheriff Sillery, “John, congratulations…you have been hired.” I was somewhat speechless, “That’s great! What made the Merit Board decide to hire me?” “Well, you seem to have a good head on your shoulders, have a great background, and you have a Master’s degree … and we would like to have some college educated officers on the department.” “OK … well thank you … When do I start?” “Be here at the jail at 7 a.m. tomorrow morning.”

   When I arrived that next morning, the Sheriff was in his office and came out to shake my hand. Charlie Stewart was standing at the reception counter drinking coffee. “Go down that hallway. There are some uniforms around the corner. Find a couple of shirts and pants that fit, and then come back up here.” Around that corner was a large pile of uniforms, wrinkled and in disarray, heaped up on the floor. After a few minutes of trying them on, I found some that, although not my size, I could wear that were halfway decent.

   At that time, there were only four other road deputies on the department…Jim Brown, John Dixon, Bill Merchant, and Brian Keim, although the Sheriff and Chief Deputy also frequently handled cases and accidents too. That morning, Brian was in the jail office looking over the inmate list, when the Crawfordsville dispatcher called and stated that two juveniles had just set a barn on fire down near New Market. The Sheriff told me to go with Brian to assist him, but I told him that I had not been issued a gun. Charlie opened a drawer on the counter and pulled out a rusty looking Colt snub nose .38 revolver and handed it to me.

   I looked it over and asked Charlie, “What about a holster?” “Well, we don’t have time to find you one, so just stick it in your pocket.” I opened up the cylinder, “But there are no cartridges in it,” I pointed out. “Oh well, no one will know it’s not loaded,” Charlie stated matter of factly.

   I jumped in Brian’s patrol car, and off he went south down Washington Street, lights and siren, traveling about 65 miles per hour, around vehicles and through red lights. That’s when I thought to myself…”What in God’s name I am doing? I have a wrinkled unform, a rusty gun with no bullets, and may die in an accident on the way to my first call.” It was a hot day, and we searched for the juveniles for over two hours, through woods and cornfields, but no luck. The New Market town marshal Orville Clifton stayed in his car, parked under a shade tree, the entire time. I arrived back at the jail, sweat soaked, and tried to pick the burrs from my uniform. A half hour later the town marshal brought both juveniles to the jail. “I just waited until they came out of the cornfield and arrested both of ’em . . . pretty simple!”

    Well, that was my first day as a police officer. After riding with other officers the next three days, I was given my own patrol car and sent out on my own on the night shift. I was the only one on duty after 11 P.M. for the entire county. That first night I arrested a man over near Waynetown who had stolen a car in Illinois and booked him into jail for felony theft. It’s called “learning as you go.” My annual pay was $7,800, and I worked 45 hours a week minimum with no overtime pay. Later on I attended the police academy and through the years dealt with hundreds of accidents, crimes, and difficult situations. And yes, the Sheriff had issued me a stainless steel Smith & Wesson .357 magnum revolver . . . with bullets, too! In 1994, I was elected Sheriff, and believe it or not, there were times I did not carry a gun. I always believed God would protect me from harm. I must have watched too many episodes of The Andy Griffith Show!

John “Butch” Dale is a retired teacher and County Sheriff. He has also been the librarian at Darlington the past 37 years, and is a well-known artist and author of local history.