Serpico and Trump share something in common

 

During the late 1960s, when I was a rookie cop in NYC, another cop, named Frank Serpico, was trying to expose corruption in the NYPD. Although I never worked with him, I heard about some plainclothes cop, in a contiguous Brooklyn precinct, that was causing a stir about payoffs to cops in the drug enforcement unit. Serpico was assigned to the 81^st pct., which bordered on the 79^th, were I was in the early stages of learning about life “on the job,” in Bedford/Stuyvesant, known back then as the “Harlem of Brooklyn.” My education began one night when I was working with a veteran cop as he pulled over a driver for a broken taillight, or some other minor infraction.

He told me to remain in the car while he walked to the errant driver’s window and engaged the man in a short conversation. A few minutes later, he slid back onto the radio car seat and tossed a few dollars on my lap. “What’s this,” I said, feeling confused. “That’s your share, kid,” was his laconic response. He didn’t explain what had occurred, he just assumed I’d snatch the money and shove it in my pocket. When I pushed it back toward him, mumbling something about not being interested, he shrugged and said, “suit yourself,” as he blithely scooped up the cash and tucked it away in his uniform jacket. I soon learned that such minor forms of extortion were as routine as accepting a free meal at the local diner.

Such trivial indulgences didn’t add a whole lot to a cop’s meager salary, but when confronted with an entrenched system that seemed like a quid pro quo arrangement between agreeing participants, most rookies just went along to get along. That’s because most people want to be accepted and avoid ostracism, especially when starting a new job. Besides, the free cup of coffee was nowhere near the same as an envelope filled with C-notes from a drug dealer, which would be distributed among the vice squad members each month.

That level of cash was too much temptation for those who made less than that in salary each month. Yet, Serpico was that rare individual who would rather take a bullet than a bribe. In 1971, during a drug raid in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, he took a bullet in his face, while fellow officers watched from a darkened stairway. There was a lot of scuttlebutt among the rank and file that it was a setup to pay him back for the cops that were on trial because of his whistleblowing. Nevertheless, what he did took raw courage and led to major reforms made by the Knapp Commission, which altered the behavior of the department in perpetuity. Serpico survived his wounds and retired on a medical pension after receiving NYPD’s Medal of Honor.

When President Trump was elected on a platform that included exposing the deep state corruption in the nation’s capital, he embarked on a herculean mission that caused many sleepless nights for those who had been enjoying their lavish, albeit unscrupulous, lifestyles for decades. The unprecedented backlash against him was more than ample proof that corruption was indeed systemic in that calcified city on the Potomac. Like the veteran NYC cops, albeit on a much larger scale, politicians had gotten used to accepting gifts as remuneration for using their influence to favor certain well-heeled titans of industry, either by speaking on their behalf, or using their votes to pass advantageous legislation. When Trump shocked the shorts off the venal establishment, and its co-conspirators in the legacy media, he became a target for destruction by every crooked leech that had been sucking the blood of decent, hardworking citizens for generations.

I’ve never admired a leader more than this giant of a man, who has the courage, strength and tenacity to take everything the powers that be threw at him and refuse to capitulate. False accusations, phony indictments, examining his home with contrived search warrants, sending his supporters to jail, stealing the 2020 election from him, and yes, attempted assassinations, one that resulted in a bullet to his face, couldn’t make him submit. I’m no hero-worshipper and I wouldn’t walk a hundred yards to see some superficial Tinseltown celebrity in person. But I’d trek through an Alaskan snowstorm in my PJs and slippers to see Donald Trump, a true hero if there ever was one.

What Frank Serpico did to change the system and bring validation to the term “New York’s Finest,” Donald Trump is doing to validate the phrase that the District of Columbia is “a shining city on a hill.” God bless both of them!