In a black Dodge Charger with “sheriff” printed on the side, Deputy Sheriff James Leedy backed out of the Presque Isle County Sheriff’s Office garage at 2 p.m. for the remainder of his 6 a.m. to 6 p.m. shift.
While he drove around one of the geographically largest counties in the Lower Peninsula, dispatch called over the scanner for responders to tend to a young girl stung by a bee and experiencing an allergic reaction.
Leedy slowed down and made a U-turn in the middle of the road before picking up the speaker to say he was close enough to respond.
Although priorities must be made, it was a slower day, so Leedy had the time to drive out. He said he receives four to five service calls a day, two of them usually emergencies.
The Presque Isle County Sheriff’s Office is understaffed, causing a domino effect of obstacles such as a limited number of deputies to patrol a wide coverage area, impacting response time and how long it takes for backup to arrive, as well as deputies’ ability to take time off. Understaffing also harms recruiting and retention efforts.
As the dispatch caller responded with “10-4,” Leedy flicked on the blue and red flashing lights on the top of the vehicle and the engine roared while the cars ahead pulled to the side of the road to let the 80-mph police cruiser pass.
Depending on staffing, the response time in Presque Isle County can vary between seven to 20 minutes. The average response time is about 10 to 15 minutes.
“Which, if you’re in a crisis, it’s a long time to wait,” Leedy said. “It feels like a long time away.”
When Leedy arrived at the bee sting scene 15 minutes later, an ambulance was parked in front of the home, getting ready to pull off as the parents stood outside.
“If we’re close by, we’ll respond to medicals,” Leedy said. “We back up the ambulance and fire departments all the time.”
The Rogers City Police Department and the Cheboygan County Sheriff’s Office work closely with the Presque Isle County Sheriff’s Office and vice-versa, Leedy said.
There is no room for police politics in this region, Leedy said as he began to drive around Metz Township, patrolling the farmlands.
“We’re all our brother’s keeper,” he said.
The Presque Isle County Sheriff’s Office, which covers 659 square miles of land, has 13 officers. Currently, the agency is down one, a position that’s been empty for more than a year.
Only seven deputies and sergeants actually patrol and handle service calls for a population of more than 13,000 people. Sometimes, it’s fewer, such as when deputies come off road patrol to work at the regional police academy.
As Leedy pulled onto a back road, he was one of three cars patrolling the county. Often, however, one deputy works the county alone. Backup is 20 to 30 minutes away.
“You really have to work through and prioritize what’s important, what’s dangerous, what’s a threat to life, health, and property, versus what can be handled possibly even over the phone,” Leedy said. “Because we’re stretched so thin, if you’re one deputy covering almost 700 square miles, there’s a lot of things that aren’t going to get addressed.”
Many of the agency’s deputies have to cancel time off to make sure the roads get patrolled.
The Sheriff’s Office is doing everything it can to make itself attractive to those in training at the police academies, with guaranteed pension and good health insurance.
“We don’t make terrible money,” Leedy said. “But we’re not gangbusters, like some of the other sheriff’s departments and some of the little police departments in the northern (Lower) Peninsula. So, you’re fighting against all of them for the few recruits that are available.”
Recruiting efforts ultimately have been tough for the agency. Most people in the police academy have already been sponsored, meaning other departments have recruited those individuals and pay for them to attend the academy.
“(It’s) a big gamble for a department to take: hiring somebody, paying them to go to school, paying them while they’re there,” Leedy said. “And then to have them say, ‘Hey, this isn’t for me,’ or for the department to say, ‘Hey, this isn’t for you, sorry,’ and have to start the process all over again. You’re really damned if you do and damned if you don’t. It’s a very weird time to be in.”
Leedy said it’s also hard to recruit to a rural region such as Presque Isle County.
“Unless they’re like diehard sportsmen or want to get away and just have some land, peace and quiet, and have a place to raise their family, how do you get people to come up here and say, ‘Hey, you’re going to be the lone ranger for almost 700 square miles and go forth and be the police?'” he said.
Trees replaced the farmland as Leedy got closer to a home that had reportedly been broken into the day before. The road grew tighter and the forests thickened.
After 30 minutes, the deputy neared a log cabin in the middle of the woods. The road was a two-track. The Charger shook as it drove over rocks and sticks. Occasionally, you could hear the long grass whip the belly of the vehicle.
Upon arrival, Leedy was met by the homeowners, who exclaimed the case had already been solved. The man who allegedly broke into their home while they were away had left a guitar case and a music binder with his name in it.
Soon enough, Leedy was headed a short distance down the bumpy road to meet the alleged perpetrator.
After talking with the suspect and his parents, presenting the guitar case and DNA that was going to be later tested, Leedy got back into his vehicle and drove away from the home.
He said there are plenty of cases in which police arrest the first suspect and that suspect could be found not guilty. With the backseat full of DNA evidence, Leedy felt confident that all he needed to do was just get the confirmation.
Being a police officer for a rural region makes you think about what is important versus what can wait, Leedy said.
Police are more likely to take dangerous risks when they know they have backup seconds away, Leedy said.
But, here, “you just have to be smarter about things.
“We do have the advantage with people around here,” Leedy added. “They’re generally good people, and we’re generally pretty well-liked.”
Leedy made his way back to the Sheriff’s Office, working about 20 minutes more than his scheduled shift and still having to document evidence and DNA.
“Yeah, we are spread thin,” Leedy said. “And, some days, it’s just a bad day to be the police. But, if you’re having an emergency, somebody’s always coming.”
This story was produced as part of the Michigan News Group, a collaboration between WCMU and local newspapers, including The Alpena News.