ROY EDROSO

Police Museum, 25 Broadway, Manhattan

I was trying to interview the sergeant at the duty desk of the New York City Police Museum at 25 Broadway.

"Is this your regular duty?"
"Yeah."
"How long you been on it?"
"Two years."
"What'd you do before then?"
"Oooooh, now we're getting into something here."
"Do you like this job?"
"Yes, I do."
"What do you like about it?"
"What are you doing here, an article or an interview?"

I recognized the edge in his voice from other encounters I'd had with cops--the slightly heavy, don't-push-it tone that cops take with pesky civilians. I walked away thinking, I don't know how Steve Dunleavy does it; every time I ask a cop questions, I piss him off.

Of course, there are a lot of reasons why a cop wouldn't want to talk to the press. Consider the controversy surrounding the Museum's opening last year. While the NYPD has kept some sort of museum since 1929, it was rarely seen by civilians until Police Commissioner Howard Safir got a local businessmen's group to donate a nice space at 25 Broadway, where Safir installed a vastly refurbished Police Museum, free to the public and open seven days a week.

This provoked, not the expected gratitude, but outrage from the local press. Even the New York Post, not normally known for an anti-cop animus, beat up on Safir and the Force. Reporters implied that the Commissioner had promised to build a police substation near Wall Street as a quid-pro-quo to the businessmen's group. It was also implied that the 20 cops Safir assigned to the museum were--what else--a waste of taxpayer money. (The new Commissioner, Bernard Kerik, has since transferred some of these officers to street duty.)

That would make anyone feel put-upon and defensive -- and anyone who's ever read a PBA ad, or watched NYPD Blue, knows about that special sort of self-pity that cops, or at least their official representatives, can get into. The Police Museum recently ran an ad in that "Museums New York" guide you find in hotels and tourist centers, that showed, in silhouette, a traditional piper in kilt and fuzzy hat. The copy read: "A lone piper pays tribute over a city whose police know far too well the call of sacrifice. A somber commentary of that sacrifice, the Police Museum's newest exhibit, the Hall of Heroes, features the shields of over 570 police officers who have died in the line of duty..." The tone seemed oddly maudlin and hurt -- like Andy Sipowicz before he quit drinking. Here's hundreds of cops dying for you people, and all youse can do is bitch about racial profiling. Come on down to the Museum so's I can beat your sorry ass to a bloody pulp.

So the Police Museum is not without its political/PR component. But then again, neither is the Brooklyn Museum. I understand that. After all, this is one of the few places where cops can tell their story without being reinterpreted by the press and the politicians. And, as the Museum's spokesman pointed out to me, "Usually the only time people get involved with the police is when something bad happens." ("Yeah, like the time horse cops tried to beat the shit out of me during the Tompkins Square Riot," I thought not for one moment of replying.) 68,000 people visited the Museum last year, and good number of these were kids on school tours. So the Museum is a great chance for the NYPD to make nice with future generations of civilians. And why shouldn't they take advantage? Everybody else does.

So what's the place like? Charming, in an old-fashioned way that reminded me of the museum I grew up with in Bridgeport, Connecticut, the old "Museum of Art, Science & Industry"--a small, slightly silly house of crank-operated fulcrums and levers that seemed a little wan to adults, but was pure candy to grade-schoolers happy for a break from the classroom.

As with that old quasi-educational fun-house, the basic method of the Police Museum is to use Cool Things to interest young minds in whatever lessons the curators want to teach. It's also fun for adults with a broad childish streak.

First off, there's plenty of that great museum staple, Cool Things in Vitrines: old cop uniforms, badges, guns, photos, etc., all made even more historic by being under glass. (This works like you would not believe. The downstairs lobby display includes a fedora -- looking less that three years old, and purely for illustrative purposes--alongside a card about Al Capone: "In 1918, Al Capone was a highly trusted member of Frankie Yale's Brooklyn gang..." etc. "Awesome," marveled the grown man next to me when I visited; "That's Al Capone's hat.")

Then there are the Cool Things from the A/V Department--like little filmed stories (shown in surprisingly effective split-screen) of officers doing their rounds and looking subtly, but genuinely, heroic. (Most of these stories featured at least a few scenes of cops talking and laughing with civilians; none of them featured scenes of cops knocking suspects to the ground.) There was a replica of an circa-1978 Queens apartment after a burglary; "Think Like a Detective," the sign said, encouraging viewers to learn, via a computer display, how New York's Finest cracks such cases, and how civilians can help by registering all their valuables with the Police. (One screen told me that I could get a free "electric etching tool" from my local precinct for this purpose. I can just imagine what my local desk sergeant will say when I try this out.)

Then there are lots of Just Plain Cool Things--like a 1960's cop car, a green and white Plymouth Fury that, unlike those unglamorous blue-and-white jobs the Force uses today, makes you want to hop in, peel out, and bark numbers into a police radio. (And did you know that before they began riding the current ugly, bulbous versions, scooter cops rode fucking Lambretta Li fucking 150s? Damn!)

Embedded on signage throughout the Museum, in lieu of genuine historical data (although management swears that a full-fledged electronic library of cop lore is in the offing), are tasty bits of cop trivia, intriguing and, if you're made of the right sort of stuff--love of justice and tradition, contempt for Bill-of-Rights freaks and other skels--maybe even convincing. For example: Why are they called night-sticks? Because they were used at night; the cops used to have day sticks, too, but they weren't as good so they dropped them. Why are there green lights outside station houses? A tribute to the green lanterns carried by the Night Watchmen of old New Amsterdam. What is the NYPD's motto? Fidelis Ad Mortem--Faithful Unto Death.

The NYPD has groupies, like Penny Krone, and critics, like Al Sharpton. Most of us fall somewhere in the middle. On the one hand, we appreciate that these guys have a hard job. On the other hand... well, read the papers.

Then again, maybe you don't have to read the papers. Maybe you have your own story. I certainly have mine. And the cops have theirs, too--and now, they also have a place to tell it. It's not the whole story, of course--in fact, in some ways, it's bullshit--but, one has to admit, the real story wouldn't be complete without it.