Suffolk police chief looks to serve in civilian ways

SUFFOLK

More than 37 years had passed since William Freeman put on his first police uniform. This New Year's Eve would be the last, but he tried not to think about that.

Freeman had a job to do until the final seconds of 2008, and the years had taught him that a police chief is ever only one incident away from showing up on CNN.

So Freeman was reluctant to talk about what he would do next: Stay in Suffolk, unless he comes into a heap of cash, he laughed. Write for his church newsletter, continue serving on the deacon board and a number of other committees at East End Baptist, where he has worshipped since childhood.

"I'm a police officer. The bottom line is you make yourself available to help people. I want to continue to do that," he said in an office cleared of most everything except department awards and a drooping poinsettia. And some paperwork.

"Without this job, you would never hear the name William Freeman. I would have just been the guy going back and forth to work" trying to do the right thing.

It was all he ever wanted to do, really. Freeman grew up with no law enforcement ambitions. He considered becoming a psychologist - Sigmund Freud fascinated him - but he served in Vietnam after graduating from high school in 1965.

Freeman later returned to Suffolk and worked at Obici Hospital and Newport News Shipbuilding. He watched the members of the Nansemond County police force and thought they were really something, he told The Pilot in a 1993 interview. He joined them in 1971, then the Suffolk Police Department when the jurisdictions merged three years later..

No more than four officers a night patrolled a city of more than 400 square miles back then, he said. Sometimes the mobile radios worked. Freeman learned he was always going to be outnumbered. That because of this, he would have to communicate well and think before acting.

"Chief wasn't in my thought process," Freeman said. "I thought maybe I'll be a detective. I was fond of being a detective. I like asking questions, putting things together, solving problems."

Freeman also worked in the patrol division and the special investigations unit and led the uniform service division.

He was promoted from captain to major in February 1996, becoming second in command under Chief Gilbert F. Jackson.

Freeman often served as the highest-ranking African American on a predomi nantly white force - a fact he did not dwell on.

"It had to occur," the chief said of the racial barriers he broke. "It's happened all during history. I just had the opportunity, the timing and whatever else."

He raised four children with his wife, Carolyn, as he climbed the ranks. He liked to be outdoors when he wasn't busy.

Freeman took over as acting chief in July 1996. He continued to work from his major's office for months until one day, he said, "I got up enough nerve to come in."

Freeman was again named acting chief in July 2001. He got the post permanently the following January.

Those who have worked for Freeman for decades call him a spiritual man, a fair and patient chief who more often led by action than commands. He cared about his department and he cared about the people he helped send to the penitentiary, they said.

"There are no throw-away people," Freeman said. "Sometimes people just make bad decisions. We all do. We just don't always get caught.... I met some characters. All had an influence on my life."

A man he discovered eating out of a trash bin. The parolee he'd put away who stopped by for a chat after serving his time.

They taught him outward appearances often meant little, if any thing at all. "You just don't ever know who you're talking to," Freeman said.

He taught his officers that sometimes the best thing to do is wait, said Capt. Stephanie Burch, but he did not hesitate to act when the situation called for it.

Freeman left police headquarters on a dark afternoon in April when a tornado tore through the city. Out on Va. 10, the damage lay before him: People sat in cars, crying. Vehicles were flipped over. He ran from one to the next.

That is his nature, say those who worked for him. He labored alongside the people he supervised. He showed up on traffic stops and house calls.

The chief inspired calm amid the storm's chaos in April, Suffolk City Manager Selena Cuffee-Glenn said. With $28 million in damage, shattered homes and businesses and shuttered neighborhoods, it was among the more significant events of Freeman's career.

But the city's first-place National Night Out win among nearly 300 cities with similar populations last year epitomized what Freeman said he tried to accomplish.

The anti-crime campaign built relationships between the police force and outlying villages and brought credibility to the department, he said. The events drew 5,000 participants in the days leading up to the Aug. 5 celebration.

He is proud of that. And proud to have watched so many young officers come and learn and grow.

"Along the way, they finally got it," Freeman said. "It's not a job. You're a public servant. That's an honorable thing."

Kristin Davis, (757) 222-5208, kristin.davis@pilotonline.com