DAVID BAKER / SPECIAL TO THE PVT K-9 Deputy "T.K." Klenczar, Sgt. Rob Clark and Field Training Officer Michael Horn are part of the Nye County Sheriff's Office night shift. Advertisement

While many local residents were enjoying themselves at the annual Fall Festival the evening of Sept. 30, I was a ride-along observer with the Nye Country Sheriff's Office. Field Training Officer (FTO) Michael Horn, greeted me at the office. He gave me a quick cook's tour, then we headed out.

Having seen dozens of cop shows on television, where a burly, gruff-voiced sergeant passed out information about the previous 24 hours, I asked Horn about a the pre-shift briefing.

"Honestly, that would be nice." Horn said. "However, we don't have the time or the personnel. We have about 10 minutes to be on station. Sometime during the shift, if things don't get too busy, my sergeant and I will meet up and catch up."

Horn said that during a normal night shift, there are only six deputies on duty: three patrolling the Pahrump Valley, two K-9 units on roving patrol, and the squad NCO. Often, while most of the valley is sleeping, there are also two plainclothes officers and an indeterminate number of detectives working drugs and weapons cases.

Night in and night out, however, there are just the six deputies that stand between us and a robber, a drunken driver or an abusive partner. Horn patrols the southern half of the valley, from Gamebird Road to the California state line, a geographic area roughly the size of Henderson. One deputy for that size of an area -- that's it.

Shifts run about twelve hours, as long as it's been a slow night, but often that's not the case. Arrests, accident reports, burglaries, domestic violence, along with the myriad of other incidents investigated on a nightly basis, create mountains of paperwork, often requiring hours of overtime to complete.

Horn's sheriff's cruiser was crammed with police equipment: Control panels for the lights and siren, the onboard video monitoring system, a shotgun mount, and a variety of forms and notebooks, along with a computer mount. The backward travel for the seats are limited by the plastic safety divider. This makes the cabin space short and cramped, especially since Horn is six feet, two inches tall.

We climbed into this cramped compartment and he gave me my orders: "Stay in the car when I tell you. Don't interfere. Ask me anything you want."

In two hours, Horn pulled over five vehicles. Of those, only one driver received a citation, in this case for lack of insurance. Horn became philosophical between the fourth and fifth stops. We discussed how the choices people make affect their lives and the lives of others, sometimes forever. Moments later, as if to prove his conversational point, a Corvette passed us in the opposite direction on Kellogg. It tripped the radar at 90 miles an hour.

The driver and the passenger were both drunk and both juveniles, 16 and 17. Speeding in a car made of fiberglass, the driver was charged with DUI after failing a breathalyzer test. The passenger was released to the custody of his parents. (I only wish that the driver of the car carrying the four young adults along Bell Vista two weeks ago, could have been stopped. Maybe, if there had been more than one deputy to patrol that area, the senseless tragedy that occurred could have been avoided.)

Luckily, for the residents of Pahrump, we have an overnight squad of deputies that won't quit. Slacking off is not in their vocabulary. However, that being said, Pahrump and the county as a whole have been very lucky. Lucky that the team of deputies they have has not come across a situation that they could not handle.

Although in the near future that might not be the case. I cite as an example the near-riot that Sgt. Rob Clark, with whom I rode briefly, responded to at a local south-central pub. The pub had sponsored a hip hop concert late Saturday night.

A couple of hours after the concert concluded, a fight ensued involving upwards of 35 individuals. Every deputy on duty responded to the incident. All cruisers, K-9 units, and one of the plainclothes deputies were present. It was only by being as diplomatic as possible that the deputies were able to get the situation under control.

If the combatants had been a little less inclined to see reason, the situation could have evolved quite differently. It will only require an incident of this nature to grow slightly larger, and our deputies will be hard pressed to handle it at all.

Handling an incident of this scale requires all of the resources the Sheriff's Office possesses. Clearing a scene of this size takes an hour or more. In this case, it took almost three, which means that while that is being accomplished, other patrol areas are necessarily neglected.

In spite of being stretched to the breaking point, in the 12 hours I rode with the Nye County Sheriff's deputies, I did not hear one complaint. Not one. These deputies have accepted that this is the way that things are, and they do the best they can with what they've got.

Back-up is a real issue. Often, when a deputy stops a vehicle or responds to a domestic violence call, there is not another deputy available to assist if things go badly. Riding with these men, it became clear to me that it's tough enough stopping a vehicle on a lonely, unlit stretch of rural road, let alone never knowing whether backup will be available. I wonder how they do it, night after night.

Clark, Horn, K-9 Deputies Deutch and Klenczar, all when asked, repeated their policies like a mantra: "Officer Safety." Follow procedure. Every action that they take is not just a random act. They constantly remind themselves to follow their guidelines, talk to the dispatchers, let everyone know where they are and what they are doing. Keep everyone with a radio informed and in the loop.

All of the deputies will tell you that the one thing that helps keep them safe, beyond their training, are the women who are their dispatchers. They are the true unsung heroes of the department. They are the command and control center. I doubt seriously whether the squad would or could function as well as it does if not for the voice over the radio.

At this time, for some unspecified reason, the vehicular laptop computers are not functioning. Nor are they even present in the cruisers. Consequently, every request for information has to flow through the dispatch center, which in addition to handling police tasking requests also handles the 911 calls for the fire department.

There are few moments of down time for a force that is this small. In the 12 hours I was present, over half of the squad was unable to take a break, let alone use the bathroom when in the field, or even eat. Most of the deputies carry a lunch box with them, as they are usually too busy to stop. Even with a lunch box, it's a rare night when they find a quiet moment to eat.

If anyone out there doubts their sincerity or their dedication to duty, perhaps Horn may be used as an example.

He is tasked with training a deputy in his or her field operations. Although the deputy will have several instructors, ultimately the training is Horn's responsibility. Once he signs off as to their suitability, he is responsible in a court of law for their training for the next seven years. Even if he quits policing altogether, he would or could be still held accountable.

The overwhelming impression I came away with is this: Our deputies, our Sheriff's Office, all are part of this community, not apart from it. We all assume that when we place a call for help, help will arrive in a timely fashion. "My" shift was one of the shortest 12 hours of my life. We ran from the moment the shift started to the moment it ended.