May 11, 2003

The sheriff's office: Blending old with the new

Since January 1, when Carl DuBois took office, the neophyte sheriff has shaken up the deputy staff, overhauled the office's command structure, filled the long-vacant jail administrator slot and recalled dozens of controversial courtesy badges. Coming tomorrow, a look at DuBois' first four months in office.

By Brendan Scott
Times Herald-Record

Goshen – It was September, and the news was just a few days old.

Carl DuBois, a political nobody, a small-town cop from Middletown, had toppled bulletproof Frank Bigger in the Republican primary for Orange County sheriff.

DuBois rode to victory wearing a white hat and carrying a clean slate. Now he had a mandate. The public told him to clean up the scandal-marred sheriff's office and lead it into the "new era of professionalism" he campaigned on.

But after the primary, DuBois was shell-shocked. There was a good chance he'd spend the next four years running an office he had barely set foot in. Then, the phone rang. An old friend was on the line.

"Anything you need, I'll help you out," DuBois remembers the caller saying.

Re-enter Roger Phillips, Orange County's bombastic 42nd sheriff, whose 10-year administration suffered as many black eyes as Bigger's. With that phone call, Phillips was back in action, back in the sheriff's office he loves.

Soon after, DuBois appointed the ex-sheriff to his transition team. Today – with the transition four months old – Phillips remains a key, unpaid adviser to his reform-minded successor.

"He's my eyes and ears," DuBois said. "I can trust him. He's not someone that's going to steer me the wrong way."

But some with long memories might find that hard to believe. Is Phillips really the right man for DuBois' cabinet of clean-slate reformers?

After all, we're talking about Roger Phillips, a guy dogged by jail unrest, stormy relations with the Legislature and accusations of patronage during his administration from 1980to 1990.

On Phillips' watch, inmates rioted, courtesy badges were handed out like campaign buttons and a deputy killed himself playing Russian roulette on the jailhouse roof. Just picture him: It's 1983. The high-profile Brinks bank robbery trial has been moved from Nyack to Goshen for an unbiased jury. Phillips stands in front of the Surrogate Court in Goshen, his feet planted shoulder-width apart, both hands clenching a rifle.

The sheriff's personal patrols weren't the only thing he did to raise eyebrows. As the trial approached, he toured the village, alarming residents with his fears of terrorist attacks and elaborate jailbreaks by the various radical groups associated with the robbers. To beef up security, he rented machine guns, developed an in-house intelligence agency and hired dozens of part-time deputies to police the streets. Rockland County was outraged by the $2.5 million bill.

But Phillips and his supporters – and the old-time cop-turned-politico has more than a few – say he successfully steered the sheriff's office through a decade of exploding jail populations and dramatic changes in law enforcement. They credit Phillips with planning the new jail and keeping the Brinks trial under control.

"Nobody got hurt," Phillips said about his handling of the trial.

Even if Phillips' controversies were all misunderstandings, it doesn't explain how the ex-sheriff with a flair for one-liners fits into the fresh-faced cabinet picked to bring the sheriff's office into the 21st century. To understand that, you need to understand Carl DuBois. He's a guy of deep loyalties, a man who shed genuine tears during a recent Kiwanis lunch at Southwinds Retirement Home because he was "emotional to be back in Middletown."

He's a guy who still makes a weekly pilgrimage to Diana's restaurant to share lunch with a bartender he rescued from a car crash 20 years ago.

He's a guy who rarely talks about police work without quoting his late mentor, Middletown police Lt. Charlie Dino.

Their bond began in 1973, when DuBois – then 19 – worked at the parts desk of R&S Chevrolet in Middletown. Dino would visit the counter to pick up supplies for his cool 1960s convertible. Invariably, DuBois would steer the conversation to cops and robbers.

Dino recognized potential in the clean-cut Mount Hope native and urged DuBois to join the city police force as an undercover narc. The next day, DuBois quit his job and quit cutting his hair. Folks at home wondered if he had fallen in with a bad crowd. But it was quite the opposite. He was working a beat, learning how to see right from wrong on the Middletown streets.

Life, law lessons taught

And Dino fast became a mentor to the greenhorn officer. He taught DuBois to appreciate the human drama of the city. He taught him to gain respect by wearing a shirt and tie to interviews. He taught him why the word excelsior – Latin for "excellence" – was engraved on their badges.

"Charlie's big thing was working for the people," DuBois recalled. "He said 'Never lose sight of that.' He would talk about guys who 'didn't get it.'"

"If I did something wrong, Charlie would be the first in the office to jack me up," DuBois said. "Charlie was like that. He would jack me up if I did something wrong. So would Roger."

As with Dino, DuBois' relationship with Phillips blossomed from a mutual love of law enforcement. In the late 1970s and early '80s, Phillips supervised his own police academy in Chester, where he was police chief for a time. And, in those days, if you were a cop in Orange County, you either taught there or took classes there.

DuBois taught, but the ambitious officer also learned a thing or two from Phillips in the process. After class, the group would retire to the Chester Forum Diner and review the day's lessons over coffee.

At first, DuBois simply admired Phillips' passion, knowledge and experience. But the two lawmen's parallel careers cemented their bond.

After Phillips, like DuBois, upset a party favorite in a Republican primary for sheriff, circumstances occasionally let the sheriff's office and Middletown police "kick in doors together," as cops like to say. In the 1990s, Phillips became police chief in Mount Hope. Not long after, DuBois was elected town justice. So last fall, when Phillips called looking to lend his expertise and connections to the DuBois campaign, the political newcomer gladly invited his seasoned predecessor on the team.

These days, Phillips continues to frequent the office in an advisory role. He volunteers his time assisting with odd tasks, such as supervising weapons destruction and even helping DuBois pick out a holster.

"I'm just helping out with the transition, that kind of stuff, nothing spectacular, nothing to write home about," Phillips said.

DuBois embraces the support:

"If that's the worst thing you can criticize me for, then I think I'm doing pretty good."

Even so, the new sheriff acknowledges Phillips' administration had flaws. And he realizes some are still lingering.

For instance, when DuBois demanded recipients return controversial courtesy badges issued by Bigger, some that were returned had been handed out by Phillips. But DuBois says Phillips knows much has changed since the free-wheeling days when he was sheriff.

"Roger has gone out to get some of those badges himself," DuBois said. "That's pretty honorable, if you ask me. That's what's different about Roger. He realizes that he's made mistakes."

But if DuBois' old mentor offered bad advice, could he walk away?

"I'm the sheriff," DuBois said. "The buck stops with me. Being loyal is one thing. Being political is something else. That's what I learned from guys like Charlie Dino and Roger Phillips."