Charles Moose is a tough man to figure.
He's been a member of the force since 1975, and as
chief of the city's 1,004-officer Police Bureau for
the past six years, he couldn't have had a much higher
profile. At the same time, he has kept his human side--the
side that laughs and cries, that shoots the breeze and
frets life's ordeals--fairly well hidden. As a result,
the public Charles Moose has appeared flat, almost more
of an outline than a fully-sculpted human being.
Since Moose announced he was leaving Portland to become
the top cop in Montgomery County, Maryland, he's let
down his guard a little. In public farewell events last
week, we caught glimpses of a man who is his own toughest
critic but who bristles at any outside criticism, a
man who sees the Portland Police Bureau as both a family
that raised him and a child in need of guidance.
Maureen O'Hagan caught up with Moose at the conference
of the National Organization of Black Law Enforcement
Executives and found him more open than in any previous
interview. He didn't shed any tears in WW's presence,
but the chief did seem eager, in his own way, to show
that he's more complex than the angry cop he's been
stereotyped as.
WW: What sort of emotions do you have about
leaving Portland?
Moose: Well, it's been 24 years, and all of a sudden
that's coming into perspective. I really feel like,
in some ways, I'm leaving home. As I talk to people
and see familiar faces, I look at them in a different
way. With the new police department, I won't know the
people, I won't know their history. So every event will
be new. I'm very leery of some isolation.
You're walking away from the only employer you've
ever had, right?
This is the only job I've had as an adult and the
only organization I've ever belonged to. I've been trying
to tell people that I don't want to confuse excitement
with fear, but I think there is some fear. I work for
a really good police department, and so I kinda go,
'Why am I leaving?'
Why are you leaving?
I feel really fortunate with my career here, but
I wonder--did I fall into a good situation, where I
have friends and acquaintances, and that has somehow
given me a level of success that's unnatural? Can I
go somewhere where I don't know all the people and I
don't know some of the things that I had the luxury
of knowing here and lead people, or was I allowed to
lead just because they knew me?
Do you have any regrets?
Well, it's kind of funny. I guess I regret that
I didn't get to retire here. They gave me this form
to fill out because I'm leaving the bureau, and there
was one box to check for retirement and another for
resignation. I never thought about it until then, but
I had to resign from the Police Bureau instead of retire.
In the Police Bureau, making it to retirement is a big
deal, and I fell short there.
Some articles I've read in the Montgomery papers
have been really up front, talking about the race issue,
implying you got the job because you're an African American.
What's you're reaction to that?
I'm just glad they're talking about it, because
it could all be behind my back. As I travel and get
closer to the South, that's a major difference. I think
in parts of the South the guy will just show you his
KKK card so you know what you're dealing with. Sometimes,
here in the Northwest, they hide the card. They still
have it, but you've gotta figure out who's got it.
Let me give you the chance to turn the tables. What's
your chief criticism of the Portland media?
The disappointing thing to me is that there seems
to be this overriding generalization that I'm overly
angry. For example, the most recent piece where I show
up in the paper after a press conference about kids
using drugs and people dying of overdoses. Those are
very serious topics. Granted, I'm the police chief,
but I was there in a volunteer capacity. So then when
a reporter wants to take this occasion to ask something
about Capt. C.W. Jensen [the subject of an internal
bureau investigation], I'm not going to talk about it.
The reporter knows that, yet he still puts it out there.
I felt I told him in a very even and calm voice that
that was inappropriate at the time. But it shows up
in Willamette Week as "Moose blows up again."
I don't think that was a blowup. This is the one piece
of the reputation that I won't be able to walk away
from.
Do you think you do have an anger problem
or is it all a misperception on our part?
Every fully functioning human being has a temper,
and I guess if I'd never become the police chief it
probably never would have become anybody's business.
I don't know how you balance that.
Do you feel misunderstood?
No, not overall. I think the incidents are fairly
isolated
I'm thinking in particular about when you tried to tell
the City Council how you felt when a group of marchers
converged on your house last summer after the bureau
shut down Daniel Binns' party.
Certainly, I could've done a better job articulating
myself. I was very sad that many people felt that I
was making disparaging remarks toward the community.
That wasn't the intent. It really was just a way to
say that City Council and maybe some other community
members had neglected some of our emotions. I
prepared those remarks in a rush before going over there,
and I really just wish I had prepared them the night
before. If I had known this was going to be a two- or
three-day story, I would've spent more time reviewing
the remarks with other people. It just caught me by
surprise. I missed the mark on that one.
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Willamette Week | originally
published August 11,
1999
