Incident Points Out the Life-Changing Choices that Police Face.
by Karyn Spencer, The Omaha World-Herald
Omaha police officers could have shot a man this week - a man they say refused to drop a pistol he had pointed at them.
Instead, Officers Michael Davis and Tom Rummel smashed the man’s hand against his car to force him to release the gun.
“That takes a tremendous amount of self-discipline,” said Sgt. Dan Cisar, a police spokesman. “There was a window of opportunity, and they took it.” The incident took place Wednesday at 42nd and Erskine Streets after a driver trying to elude police crashed into a utility pole, killing his passenger.
The driver, 26-year-old Mandrell Swiney, pointed a gun at Davis and Rummel as he tried to crawl out the car window, a police report said. Swiney was arrested on suspicion of several offenses, including two counts of attempted felony assault on a police officer. Pethuel Lindsey, 55, was killed in the crash.
Most Omaha officers draw their gun at some point. Their choice might seem obvious: Shoot when the bad guy is about to hurt you or someone else.
But officers make that life-changing decision while struggling to see in the dark, running through yards and in numerous other situations.
“At the snap of a finger, you have to decide whether to pull the trigger,” said Sgt. Chris Circo, who was involved in a fatal shootout in 1996.
While the decision is made in seconds, fallout from a controversial shooting can last for years. Critics still are calling for charges against Officer Jerad Kruse, who shot George Bibins to death more than two years ago.
Officers are held to the same standard as any citizen: They can shoot in self-defense if they believe a person is an immediate threat to seriously injure or kill.
In the past decade, the Omaha police force annually averaged fewer than one fatal shooting while handling several hundred calls involving people with weapons.
Officers learn when to use deadly force through “shoot-don’t shoot” academy training. They watch real-life scenarios on video and decide whether to shoot, using practice guns.
Every night, somewhere in Omaha, officers draw their guns in situations that could become deadly, said Sgt. Tim Andersen, Omaha Police Union president.
In most cases, people who initially refuse to show their hands don’t have weapons, or those with weapons drop them when ordered, Andersen said.
Last winter, officers were called to a neighborhood near downtown, where Mark A. Campbell was firing shots, eventually killing a person. When officers told him to drop his shotgun, he did.
The shoot-don’t shoot decision must be made in a matter of moments. A suspect can take a gun from a waistband and shoot at an officer in nine-hundredths of a second, said Bill Lewinski, a Minnesota police psychologist who has studied police shootings.
Yet they must weigh several issues: Is the person an immediate threat? Can I take cover and negotiate? Should I shoot? Is anyone else in my line of fire?
“It’s immensely difficult,” Lewinski said.
Circo was part of a SWAT team in 1996 that broke down doors to serve an assault warrant on Donald M. Hurley. When they found him, the only light in the room was from a television screen, Circo said.
Then Hurley started shooting.
“The only thing I had to aim at was his muzzle flash,” Circo said.
Within seconds, Hurley had fired three shots, and Circo and another officer had fired 12. Hurley died from his wounds.
Such decisions, made in a moment, are judged for months or even years through courts, their commanders and the public.
The public generally understands when police return gunfire from suspects. That was the case in six of Omaha’s eight fatal police shootings in the last decade.
In the others, officers shot unarmed men, sparking controversy. One was the Bibins shooting by Kruse, who has since retired. Kruse’s reason for firing has not been disclosed.
The other was in 1997, when Officer Todd Sears shot Marvin Ammons. Sears said he thought Ammons was reaching for a gun.
Post-shooting scrutiny sits in the back of officers’ minds, but it evaporates when the moment hits, Circo said.
“It’s a survival thing,” he said.
“Nobody comes on this job wanting to pull that trigger. Obviously, it’s something that’s reality.”