Houston Blue: The Story of the Houston Police Department

22. The Darkest Day

265 22 The Darkest Day M ayor Fred Hofheinz wasn’t about to make another mistake at HPD after Carrol Lynn. Hofheinz couldn’t persuade council members to consider an outsider and waited until after his 1975 re-election to select another insider.1 Hofheinz had known Byron Glenn “Pappy” Bond throughout his twentytwo -year HPD career. The rotund captain grew up in the elder Mayor Hofheinz ’ administration in 1953 when Fred was in his teens, making him a “comfort factor” for the young mayor. In a serious interview with Bond about the chief’s job, the mayor was concerned about the man’s fluctuating weight and asked, “Pappy, you’re overweight, aren’t you?” “Who told you?” Bond deadpanned. “Pappy” was much more likeable than his predecessor. Practically everyone used the same terms to describe him: rotund, jovial, friendly, honest, likeable, qualified, fair. Altogether, the newest chief would serve eighteen months on the job, the same tenure almost to the number of days as Carrol Lynn. Bond started with the same quick wit for which he was well known. As the job took a strong toll, his weight grew to more than three hundred pounds, while the patented Pappy smile faded to a frequent frown as reports of brutality and throw-down guns emerged.2 Bond faced an unprecedented number of highly publicized police brutality cases. Despite his sincere efforts to court Houston’s Hispanic community to get its members more involved in recruiting, he incurred its collective wrath. Instead of positive bonding with Pappy, many Hispanic leaders emphasized the department’s negatives. There were more smiles than frowns when Hofheinz made the official announcement and the chief-designate made it clear from the beginning that there would be happier days at 61 Riesner. “Be happy with Pappy” was his campaign slogan when he ran for University of Houston student body president . Once at the HPD helm, Bond told Houston Post police reporter Ann 266 Houston Blue James, “It’ll be that way around here.”3 Post editorial writers picked up on the projected leadership of a large, jovial chief by concluding, “Captain Bond has had a fine career as a police officer. He will undoubtedly continue to govern by the weight of his convictions.”4 City Council confirmed him on January 21, 1976. As expected, Bond did what practically every other newly christened chief does—he shook up the command staff. Former Chief Lynn was moved to night command; Fred Bankston took over special services from Harry Caldwell; and T. D. “Tommy” Mitchell was assigned to head a special investigation bureau consisting of Narcotics, Vice and Juvenile. The latter division was added to Special Investigations because Bond felt narcotics crimes had begun to include too many minor offenders.5 Former Acting Chief R. J. Clark headed the new inspections bureau that included Criminal Intelligence, Organized Crime and Planning and Research. Clark was just getting back in the fold after having suffered a heart attack just weeks before Bond’s appointment. Five deputy chiefs were retained in their previous assignments: R. G. McKeehan in Patrol, W. R. Waycott in Traffic, B. K. Johnson in Criminal Investigations, W. L. Williams in Technical Services and Leroy Mouser in Administration. Deputy Chief Caldwell was assigned to P C B. G. “P” B, J , –J ,  (HPD A) The Darkest Day 267 Staff Services, which included training and recruiting. Caldwell was studying for his doctorate in criminal justice at Sam Houston State University. Bond succeeded in getting the mayor and council to create three assistant chief positions, creating another level of command. At the suggestion of his academy classmate, Caldwell, Bond quickly returned to council to get a fourth assistant chief for the command staff hierarchy. The person next on the peg for the position was Caldwell. Bond was the first and only chief to hold court in the basement cafeteria at 61 Riesner. He bantered about with the troops, answering their questions about any ongoing policy changes or rumors. The sessions established a direct line of communication for the rank and file. Sometimes four or five tables were arranged to accommodate all the officers who wanted to hear what the chief had to say on any subject.6 The chief was much more of a PR man than either of his predecessors. Instead of short and private promotion sessions like Herman Short conducted, Bond made it a full-blown ceremony that...