21st precinct, Sergeant Waters. What'd you say about a gun? Oh, to get a license to carry
one. Well, you have to apply here at the station house. That's right. Come in here any time
between 8 a.m. and 4 p.m. and see the hack, Inspector.
You are in the muster room at the 21st precinct, the Nerve Center. A call is coming through.
You will follow by transcription the action taken pursuant to that call from this minute
until the final report is written in the 124 room at the 21st precinct.
Yes, sir. You make your application here at the precinct house and it's investigated.
Yes, sir, the hack, Inspector. He's a police officer here assigned to take applications
for licenses. Yeah, welcome.
21st precinct. It's just lines on a map of the city of New York. Most of the 173,000
people wedged into the nine-tenths of a square mile between Fifth Avenue and the East River
wouldn't know if you asked them that they lived or worked in the 21st. Whether they
know it or not, the security of their jobs, their homes, and their property is the job
of the men of the 21st precinct. The 21st, 160 patrolmen, 11 sergeants, and
four lieutenants of whom I'm the boss. My name is Kennelly, Frank Kennelly. I'm captain
in command of the 21st. I was working my day tour, 8 a.m. to 6 p.m. I returned from patrol
of the precinct at 2.50 p.m. and went to my office to read and sign reports. Among them,
I saw a note from patrolman Nathan Jaffe, the precinct hack inspector, who handles in
the 21st applications for licenses of business and other activities which by law are subject
to police supervision. These include cabs and cab drivers, gunsmiths, towing cars, catering
establishments and so forth. But Colman Jaffe wanted to see me.
21st precinct, Sergeant Waters. Sergeant, would you ring into the hack inspector's
office for me please? Nobody's up there, captain. Jaffe went out
on a job. Oh, all right, sergeant, thanks.
Oh, captain. Yes?
You know who's out here? Lieutenant Klein. Which lieutenant Klein?
Our sergeant Klein. No, lieutenant Klein. Oh, tell him I want to say hello. I'll be
right out. Yes, sir.
21st precinct, sergeant Waters. Hello, Klein, captain.
Where is this lady? You don't look any the worse for being a lieutenant.
I don't feel any worse for it. Did this get to be a second home, Klein?
Did you miss us? Yes, sir, I missed you.
He didn't miss us at all, captain. He had a pair of shoes over at the shoemaker's
around the corner being fixed. He came downtown to pick them up.
Where are you, 10th division office? Yes, sir, that's right.
What's the job? Supervising plain clothes work?
Yes, sir. Oh, sergeant, is the shoeshine boy on the
job back there? I think so, sir, captain.
Yes, sir. Come on, lieutenant. I'm buying you a shine.
I'll take it. Be in the back room, sergeant.
Yes, sir. Well, how do you like the job?
It's all right, I guess, captain. What do you mean, all right?
Well, it's near home, and I've got a good boss, inspector Roy F. Holman, do you know
him? Yeah, I've met him.
You're the visitor. Go ahead.
Sergeant Klein, how are you? How you been? Lieutenant Klein, Elmo.
Oh, yeah, yeah, I forgot. Lieutenant Klein.
Oh, what a cheese step, Lieutenant Klein. Shine on Elmo for the promotion.
Shine us on me, Elmo. All right, on you, captain.
What's the matter with the job, Klein? Oh, I don't know. This gambling law enforcement
is not for me. No?
You know, captain, it's a personal feeling. I can't get excited about slapping somebody
in jail for betting on a horse. It's the same as any other law.
I know. It's my job to enforce it, but I just can't get excited about it, captain. That's
it. All the effort we put in on it and so many men, people are going to bet they're
going to gamble no matter how many men we put on it. And it's all out of proportion.
It could be burglaries and assaults and car thefts, and it's just routine. But if somebody
hears maybe a bookmaker is operating, the roof falls in. Everybody starts hollering.
Captain, can I see you a minute? Hello, Javi. Excuse me a second, Klein.
Yeah, sure, captain. Oh, Lieutenant Klein, how are you? I didn't
notice it was you. Hello, Javi.
I've got a pistol license renewal application on my desk, captain. I took it yesterday.
Yeah? You might want to think it over before you
recommend approval. Why?
It's an awful tough spot, captain. He's a nice old guy. He doesn't get the renewal to
lose his job. It's a rough thing to do. I know he's a retired cop, a sergeant, but maybe
he just shouldn't have a license anymore. Why not?
Well, he's going on 74 years old. His eyes are getting bad on him. His reflexes don't
seem to be much good. He just shouldn't be carrying a gun.
What's his name? Thayer, Bernard Thayer. Where's the application?
In my office, captain. All right, get it and bring it in to me.
Yes, sir. Right away, captain.
Well, Elmo's just as good on brown shoes as he is on black, captain.
Oh, sure, sure. I'm good on brown. Anything. Brown shoes. Why the first thing when somebody's
made detective of plain clothes they go out and buy a big brand new pair of brown shoes?
That's too bad you don't like the job, Klein. No, sir, I don't. The truth is I want to get
out of it as fast as I can. Oh, I'll settle it, then, Klein.
Oh, thank you. Throw up or down.
Thanks, captain. Next, captain.
That's what I really came down to talk to you about, captain.
Yeah? I'd like to get back to some precinct in this
division if I can. Now, I was on the job for you for two and a half years. You know what
I can do and you know what I can't. If you feel you can give me a recommendation, would
you talk to the inspector for me? Well, you don't have to tell me whether you will or not,
captain. That's up to you. But I heard that there's a lieutenant retiring in the 19th.
If I can get it, I'd like that job. All right, Klein. If I get the opportunity,
I'll talk to the inspector. I'd sure appreciate it, captain. I've got that renewal application,
captain. All right. Let's see you, Jeffy.
Yes, sir. Thanks.
Are you an exon, Mrs. Jeffy? No, not now, Elmo.
Where are you attached now, lieutenant? Tenth Division. Plain clothes work?
Yeah, plain clothes work. Someday that's the job I'd like. You got a good break on the
assignment, lieutenant. A swell break. To protect individuals against sudden and deadly
violence inflicted by weapons which may be concealed on the person, violation of the
New York State Gun Law, Section 1897-PL, more commonly known as the Sullivan Law, is a grave
offense. This law gives the police commissioner exclusive authority to grant pistol licenses
in the city of New York. The issuance of such licenses is rigidly controlled. Each application
must have the recommendation for approval of both the commanding officer and the detective
squad commander of the precinct in which the applicant resides or is employed. In addition
to ordering a thorough investigation of the applicant by a superior officer, the commanding
officer must personally interview the applicant. Recommendations for approval by the commanders
of the detective district and the patrol division concerned must be affixed before it is forwarded
to the Division of Licenses for Action. Each endorser of the application, either original
or for annual renewal, is held accountable if it subsequently turns out that the applicant
is not of good character or properly entitled to a pistol license. When the shine boy had
finished with me, I said goodbye to Lieutenant Klein and went into my office with Patrolman
Jaffe to discuss the application of retired police sergeant Bernard Thayer for renewal
of his pistol license.
Ah, sit down, Jaffe.
Yes, sir.
When did Thayer bring his renewal application in?
Yesterday afternoon, Captain.
Who told you about his eyes?
Well, I took his thumbprint. He could hardly find the place to sign the card.
Did he wear glasses?
Yes, sir, but they didn't help much.
Did you ask him when he had his eyes examined last?
Yes, sir. He said two or three months ago.
Seventy-three years old, huh?
Yes, sir. Going on seventy-four.
Let's see that application again.
Yes, sir.
Pointed to the force, April 13, 1903. Made Sergeant June 11, 1916. Retired September
6, 1935.
He's an awful nice old guy. He's just full of stories about the old days. He loved the
job. He really loved it.
What's this employment he's got now? J-Row Transportation Company.
That's a taxi fleet up on the 25th. They've got 165 hacks. He's a guard in the cashier's
office.
How long has he been with them?
Since 1937, December of 1937.
You know, he stays with the job a long time, doesn't he?
Yes, sir.
It's just rough, that's all, Captain. Plain rough.
Well, there's nothing we can do about it. If he's not physically qualified to have a
pistol license, that's beyond our control. There's more than one man involved here, Jaffe.
It's a matter of protection of the public.
Yes, sir.
Is he working days and nights?
Nights, Captain.
All right. See if he can come in here around four tomorrow afternoon and I'll talk to him.
I asked him to come in today, Captain.
Oh, did you?
Yes, sir. I knew you were on.
All right. It's too bad, but if he's no longer a proper person to hold a gun license, there's
nothing we can do about it.
There he is, standing at the desk.
Hello, Mr. Payer.
Oh, how are you? I knew they'd turn out at four. I thought the Captain would want to
talk to me before that.
This is Captain Cannelli, Mr. Payer.
I remember, Mr. Payer, from last year.
It's a good thing the Department doesn't issue many pistol licenses, isn't it, Captain? That's
all you'd be doing, interviewing applicants.
You want to come into my office?
Yes, sir.
All right, Jaffe.
Yes, sir. I'll check with you later, Captain.
All right. Now be in my office, Sergeant.
Yes, sir.
Come in, Mr. Payer.
Yes, sure, Captain. Seems like a waste of energy to investigate renewal applications
every year now, doesn't it?
All right. It's a lot of work. Go ahead.
Thank you.
Have a seat.
But I was in the job 32 years. I learned that a lot of things seemed ridiculous and a waste
of effort. It turned out to be a pretty good reason behind all of them.
Yeah, they usually are.
I knew Cannelli down in the old second precinct. John Cannelli. You any relation?
No.
This goes back many years. Right after I got on the job, he was a bicycle patrolman. He
used to chase speeding automobiles on a bicycle and catch them, too. That's how many years
ago it was.
Well, you are 73 years old, Mr. Payer.
I'll be 74 in February, Captain.
Yeah. That job you've got, wouldn't a younger man be a little better suited for it?
Well, as long as the bosses are willing to have me, Captain, I'm willing to stay. We
haven't had any trouble there since 1937. No attempt to stick up. Not even petty theft.
You're drawing a city pension, aren't you?
Oh, yes. But my pension's based on a 1935 salary, and you'd be surprised at how little
that amounts to.
But, of course, the sergeant's pay back when I retired was a lot more than most people
will make, and I've got no complaints about that.
How's your health?
What do you mean?
Well, for instance, do you have trouble with your eyes?
Well, I've had them a long time, Captain. There's no question. They're not as good as they used
to be. Captain, there isn't any doubt about the renewal of my pistol license, is there?
Even though, as well as I do, Mr. Thayer, every renewal must be examined and investigated
the same as if it were an original application. You're nearly 74 years old, Mr. Thayer. You
said yourself your eyes aren't what they used to be, and obviously neither are your reflexes.
Then there's a chance the application will be disapproved.
Oh, there's always that chance.
What's the chance in my case?
I can't say yet. Not until we've completed our investigation.
But it's just one more year, and that job's all I want, Captain. That's all I need. Just
one more year. After one more year, I was going to leave it anyway.
Why one more year?
Well, for a very good reason, Captain. The money. No license, no job, no money. I need
the money. You can look it up, Captain. I was 32 years in this job with a good record,
perfect record, an honorable mention and three commendations. In all those 32 years, I never
asked anyone for a favor, never. Way back there, those were the days when you needed
favors to get along. But I made it on my own steam.
Yes, I know.
And now I am asking you for a favor. I'm asking you for another year. That's all. Just another
year.
Well, it's not up to me alone.
Well, I know they'll go along with your recommendation. I know that. Now, what difference will another
year make? None to you?
We'll see, Mr. Zaya.
When?
When the investigation is completed.
Well, investigation or not, you've got your mind made up, I know.
Oh, I wouldn't say that.
Well, you have. But I just want to tell you, Captain, another year means nothing to you.
To me, it means everything in the world. Everything. Will you remember that?
Yes. I'll remember it.
You are listening to 21st Precinct, a factual account of the way police work in the world's
largest city.
In the winter of 1944, during the siege of Bastogne, the German High Command demanded
the surrender of General Anthony McAuliffe and his troops. His answer was a one-word
classic, nuts. But even more inspiring to the men of the 101st Airborne Division was
General McAuliffe's Christmas Eve message. He told the men that in the face of defeat,
they had stopped cold everything that had been thrown at them from north, east, south,
and west, and that it was a worthy Christmas present for their country and loved ones back
home.
By their action, General McAuliffe and his men assisted in the writing of Article 2 of
the United States Fighting Man's Code of Conduct.
I will never surrender of my own free will. If in command, I will never surrender my men
while they still have the means to resist.
Now back to 21st Precinct and Captain Frank Kennelly.
Shortly after the retired police sergeant left my office, I turned out the platoon for
the night court, 4 p.m. Before I signed the blotter at 6 p.m. to go off duty, I left instructions
for Sergeant Waters, as required by the manual procedure, to make an investigation of the
application of Bernard Thayer for a renewal of his pistol license. In compliance, the
next afternoon at 2 p.m., he called to Department 3C, 379 East 65th Street, the listed residence
of the applicant.
Yes, who is it?
This is the police sergeant, madam.
Just a second.
Who?
Sergeant Waters, 21st Precinct.
Oh, well, just a second. I'll take the chain off the door.
All right.
Nothing's the matter.
No, everything's all right. This is the residence of Bernard Thayer.
Well, he's all right.
Yeah, he's all right. I'm just checking on his application of renewal of pistol license.
Oh, well, come in.
Thank you.
Sergeant who?
Waters.
Oh, would you mind talking in the kitchen? I was just icing a cake.
All right.
I'm Mrs. Thayer.
Oh, and so?
In there.
Thanks, Mrs. Thayer.
Oh, well, not his wife. I'm his daughter-in-law.
I see.
It happens all the time. I introduce myself as Mrs. Thayer and people get it.
I introduce myself as Mrs. Thayer and people get that funny look on their face.
They think I'm Dad's wife. Do you like devil's food cake?
I do, but I've got to watch my weight.
Oh, Dad loves it. He and Mike, that's my son.
He and Mike can eat almost a whole cake in one sitting.
It's like a contest. Who can get the most in him?
You remember the pie-eating contest they used to have at Technics?
That's what it's like. I hope I made enough icing.
Who lives here? Your father-in-law, yourself, and your son?
And my daughter, Jean. She's a Juilliard studying voice.
Uh-huh.
She has a beautiful lyrical soprano voice.
Her teachers say she ought to go a long way after she finishes her training.
She's only nineteen. You ought to hear her.
And your son?
He's in his last year at NYU Medical School. He'll be a doctor in June.
Would you like some coffee, Sergeant?
No, no thanks.
It wouldn't be any trouble alone. Take a minute.
Dad tells me how there's always a pot of coffee going at the station house.
That's all right. What about your husband?
Well, he's dead.
I'm sorry.
It was an auto accident. Dad's wife was killed, too.
Oh, uh, I didn't know that.
I'd better let this soak. If I don't, the chocolate will stick to the pot.
Then it's a real job to get it off.
You see, Dad was retired.
What did you say?
I said Dad was retired. He retired in 1935, late in 1935.
He and Mrs. Fayer went to Florida. They were going to build a small house
and open up a little business down there at Kissimmee. Do you know where that is?
No.
Well, it's near Orlando. It's very nice.
They got the house built all right, and they were looking around for a business.
He was only 54 years old at the time, very young.
Well, anyway, they used to come up to New York about twice a year to visit us.
Joe was their only son, and to see the two children. They always drove.
At this particular time, Mrs. Fayer wanted to go out to Brooklyn.
They rich. She wanted to see a friend of hers.
Dad didn't feel like going, so Joe drove his mother and dad's car.
I don't know what happened. Something with a steering wheel, it turned out.
Joe couldn't control the car, and it went over onto the wrong side of the street.
Truck coming the other way hit them.
That's too bad.
Here I was with two small kids. Mike was ten and Gene was three.
Dad didn't want to go back to Florida. He sold the house and moved in with us.
Said the kids were going to have good educations and everything else.
So he's got the job he's got now, and that together with his pension
and what little I could make once in a while has been enough to support us
and send the kids to school.
Now it's almost finished. Mike graduates in June.
He'll go into the Army of First Lieutenant for two years.
Gene's been offered two jobs already, but dad thinks she ought to finish up at Juilliard.
She's really good, so she won't have any trouble. She's pretty, too.
So that's the story. Coffee won't be any trouble at all, Sergeant.
No thanks, Mrs. Fayer. How's your father-in-law's health?
Well, pretty good. He's going to be 74, you know.
He can't run a hundred yard dash anymore, but pretty good.
How about his eyes?
What do you mean?
Has he been having trouble with his eyes?
Well, he wears glasses.
What's the name of the doctor he saw recently about his eyes?
I really don't know. You'll have to ask dad about that.
All right. But he doesn't see very well, does he?
No, he doesn't.
Poor daddy wanted to retire to a house in Florida to take things easy.
Daddy's been working hard for the 16 years.
Things never seem to work out the way you want them to happen. They never do.
Well, I guess they don't, Mrs. Fayer. There's always something to change things around.
I came into the station house at 3.30 the same afternoon for my night tour.
After I signed the blotter, looked over reports and communications, and turned off the platoon,
I went upstairs to the third floor of the station house where the precinct youth patrolmen, the safety officer,
the civil defense officer, and the hack inspector have their offices.
Captain, did you talk to Sergeant Waters?
Yeah, he rang in when I first came into the house.
Told me he saw Fayer's daughter-in-law.
Yes, sir. That's rough. He's putting his two grandchildren through school. The boy's going to be a doctor.
Yeah, I know. He's a great old fella.
Yeah.
I'd hate to have to be the one to knock him out of the box.
Captain?
Come in, Sergeant.
Oh, Captain.
Roger Waters.
I saw you going up the stairs, Captain. I thought you'd like to know after I spoke to the daughter-in-law.
I drove up to Fayer's place of employment, J. Rowe Transportation.
Yeah?
Mr. Jackson and Mr. Romano, they both were there. I talked to them.
They like them and they want to keep them if we're willing to go along on a license renown.
Mr. Romano told me that since Fayer's been on the job there, 16 years,
he's only missed three or four days outside of his vacation, that is. He was laid up once with the virus.
You think they'd be willing to keep him on in any other capacity if he didn't get his license renewed?
Well, I asked them that, Captain. There's nothing you can do there. He's no mechanic.
He just got a cashier and a bookkeeper in the office. They've both been with the company a long time. They couldn't.
I can see there wouldn't be anything much for them to do.
Well, they told me they've got to have an armed guard.
It's got something to do with making their insurance premiums less. I don't know.
They never had any trouble with any robberies or attempts, but they've got to have an armed guard there anyway.
Captain, after all, it's just one more year.
The question is not just another year to carry a gun.
There's been no attempted robbery since he's been on the job there and he's had no occasion to use the gun.
But what about the coming year? If he has to use it, he's liable to get himself killed.
What about the protection of the other employees there?
Family sure swears by him. Daughter-in-law thinks he's just about the best thing that walks the earth.
That's beside the point also, Sergeant.
The rate's pretty high in my book, too.
He'll be in at five o'clock.
Yes, sir.
Will he come up here?
No, sir. I told him to ask for you. You're not going to recommend approval, huh, Captain?
No.
Well, I'm glad I'm not the one who has to tell him.
I don't look forward to the job, Sergeant.
Well, that's all.
On the way downstairs, I stopped off on the second floor at the office of the 21st Detective Squad.
There I saw Lieutenant King, the squad commander, and spoke to him at some length regarding the application of
Bernard Thayer for renewal of his license to carry a pistol.
Lieutenant King agreed that, unfortunate as it may seem in view of the circumstances,
it would be extremely unwise to recommend approval for another year.
It was a few minutes before five that I left the squad office, walked down the rickety stairs into the back room,
and out into the muster room.
Lieutenant Pope was on duty as desk officer, and Sergeant Waters on TS.
Sergeant, excuse me a second, Captain.
Yeah, sure.
21st Preach and Sergeant Waters.
All right, 26.
Yes, sir, Captain?
I'll go on patrol at 5.30. Would you have a car around here for me, then?
Yes, sir. Captain?
Yes?
Mr. Thayer came in. I asked him to wait in your office.
Oh, I got to talking to him for a few minutes.
He was in the job of my father down the old second precinct.
Sure got a well of stories.
Yeah, well, I'll go in and talk to him.
Yes, sir.
21st Preach and Sergeant Waters.
Mr. Thayer?
Oh, that's all right. Keep your seat.
Yes, sir.
Well... Yes, sir.
We've given your LD-80 a great deal of consideration, Mr. Thayer.
Yeah, I know you have. My daughter-in-law tells me one of the sergeants was over at the house,
and I spoke to my boss on the telephone. I just want to say, Captain...
Oh, excuse me.
Yes, sir.
21st Preach, Captain Cannelli.
Captain, Inspector McBride is ringing in from division for you.
All right, Sergeant. Just one second, Mr. Thayer.
I got lots of time.
All right, sir.
Frank?
Yes, Inspector?
You've got the division tonight, isn't that right?
Yes, sir.
There's a movie company going to shoot some film on the 47th Street station of the Third Avenue L.
Yes, sir.
I think they'll be on the job there from midnight until about 3 a.m.
We've got work in the secretary's office to give them all the assistance we can.
I have four men from the 17th assigned there.
Could you drop by sometime during that time and see that everything's going all right?
Yes, sir. Sure. The 47th Street station.
That's right. All right, Frank.
Oh, Inspector McBride.
Yes, Frank.
You remember Norman Klein, a sergeant here? He was made a lieutenant about a month ago.
Oh, yeah, sure.
Yeah, well, I saw him today. He's up in the 10th Division supervising plane clothes work.
He heard there's a lieutenant retiring in the 19th. He'd like to put in for it.
You found him a good man, didn't you?
Oh, yes. Very good.
Ah, dear, Frank. I'll think about it. I'll talk to the chief.
Yes, sir.
So, I'll try.
Inspector Edward McBride, Captain?
Yes.
He was a rook in my squad, fresh out of the Academy.
Is that so?
Well, that's 21, 22 years ago. I was in the 44th up in the Bronx.
I thought he'd get someplace. He made a good pinch his first night on the job.
He woke up to a parked car.
Mr. Sayre.
I'm sorry, Captain. Seems the older I get, the more I like to talk. I'm sorry.
No, that's all right. I, uh, I've got some news for you in regard to your renewal application.
Well, I didn't come to get any news, Captain. I came to save you the trouble.
What do you mean?
I want to withdraw the application.
Oh.
I thought about it. I know there's only one thing you can do, and that's recommend disapproval.
You can't do anything else.
Well, I was in the job 32 years, and I've held a gun license 16 years.
In all that time, I never had a spot on my record. I don't want to start now.
Mr. Sayre.
I, I quit the job. I went down today and applied for Social Security.
That plus the pension will let us squeak by. No luxury, but we'll manage.
I see.
Captain, uh, one thing.
Yes?
You were going to recommend disapproval, weren't you?
I was, yes.
Well, you had to.
Well, thanks for all your trouble, Captain. I appreciate it. I really do appreciate it.
Well, bye, Captain.
It was nice to have known you, Sergeant Sayre.
Maybe I'll get to spend a little time in Florida after all. Maybe after all.
Hello, CB. Sergeant Waters at the 21st. We made that notification of 421 York Avenue.
421 York Avenue.
Yeah.
Okay.
I gave it a CB, Lieutenant.
Did you tell him, Captain?
No, Sergeant. He told me.
21st Precinct, Sergeant Waters.
Yes, ma'am. This is the police department.
Stole your place? Well, who?
What's his name? Do you know him?
At what party? Where?
And so it goes.
You're going to take it?
Around the clock, through the week, every day, every year.
A police precinct in the city of New York is a flesh-and-blood miracle round.
Anyone can catch the brass ring, or the brass ring can catch anyone.
21st Precinct transcribed a factual account of the way the police work in the world's largest city
as presented with the official cooperation of the Patrolmen's Benevolent Association,
an organization of more than 20,000 members of the police department, city of New York.
Everett Sloan in the role of Captain Kennelly.
Featured in tonight's cast were Harold Stone, George Petrie, Lawson Zerby, Santa Sartega, Ethel Everett, and Bill Smith.
Written and directed by Stanley Ness. George Bryan speaking.