Photograph by Robert Scheer
Deputy Sheriff Sandra Serenka calls in a location from her squad car.
By Ryan Ozimek
It was 4 p.m. on a sunny Friday afternoon in Saratoga. I sat shotgun, while photographer Robert Scheer sat behind me in "the cage." Deputy Sheriff Sondra Serenka hit the gas, turned the air on high and launched us on a journey through her swing shift patrol beat.
On this night, we'd see what happens behind the wheel of a black and white after dark falls in Saratoga.
Expectations of witnessing a shootout or high-speed chase were immediately heightened with a slur of dispatches over the radio as we pulled from the Westside Substation onto Saratoga Avenue. Numbers and catch phrases flew through the air as Serenka pulled a U-turn and headed into downtown Saratoga. The call turned out to be the report of a stolen bicycle, and was one of only a handful of calls throughout the shift.
It was a quiet night in Saratoga.
Deputy Serenka has been a member of the Santa Clara County Sheriff's Department, based at the Westside Substation, for four years. She wanted to become a patrol officer since she was 16. After graduating from San Jose State University with a degree in law enforcement and about 12 years of working with several law enforcement agencies, she finally made it.
"As soon as you get hired, you want to become a patrol officer," Serenka said. "You just have to wait for your turn."
Working the swing shift, 3 p.m. to 1 a.m., every Wednesday through Sunday, Serenka said she's seen just about everything over the past four years in Saratoga, although most calls don't deal with heavy-duty crime.
"I've responded to everything from reports of rattlesnakes at residents' homes to wild turkeys scaring young children," Serenka said.
Serenka took a report on the stolen bicycle, but noted that chances of recovery would be slim without a serial number.
"Without a serial number, there's no way to separate his bike from anyone else's," she said, as we pulled away, with the faint sounds of 95.3 FM in the background. As we cruised, receiving looks of curiosity from onlookers, we listened for our call number: 8-1 Sam 5.
"Driving around like this, we're making ourselves visible, keeping people conscious of what they're doing out there," Serenka said.
Every night in Saratoga, there are at least two patrol cars on the streets, and on some nights, a third deputy may also be on patrol.
Serenka checked to make sure nothing unusual was happening in the Quito Road area. "It's a lot like fishing," she commented. "Some days it will be really good, and you'll get the bad guys; others it's not. You just don't really know."
When she's not busting criminals, Serenka spends time in the neighborhoods, trying to get to know the people.
"I'll stop and talk to the kids in the neighborhood, and maybe find out when the next party is or when the dance is," Serenka said.
Serenka waved to a man with a beet-red face walking down the street, dressed in a sweater despite the warm weather.
"Many people probably don't know that he's mentally challenged, and they may get nervous if he tried to talk to them," Serenka said. "But he's not trying to hurt anyone; he's just going over to his mom's house today."
After making another pass through downtown, we headed north, down Saratoga-Sunnyvale Road. The topic of police and doughnuts came up. Serenka denied rumors that she and her coworkers eat the law enforcement officers' supposed baked good of choice. "Eat doughnuts, no way," she said. "Here in Saratoga, we eat bagels and croissants!"
Suddenly, the radio crackled. A silent alarm at the bank at Argonaut Shopping Center had been set off. Serenka called in her location, and her estimated time of arrival. We flew past cars, lights flashing, but without a siren.
"You don't want to put the siren on because you don't want the bad guys to know you're coming," Serenka said, as we shot past cars on the side of the road.
The tension was thick as we approached the bank and blocked the rear driveway. Serenka jumped out, covering the back of the building as other officers arrived on the scene.
Serenka dashed to the front of the building, and a minute later came toward the rear and signaled the number four with her hand. I waved back.
We found out a new worker had accidentally tripped the alarm while fixing an ATM machine. I also discovered that the number four that Serenka flashed meant Code 4, a signal that the area was secure and safe.
Serenka issued the first, and only, ticket of the evening: a $200 fine for a false alarm.
"The city gives you two free false alarms, but after that, you start paying for them," she said.
Disturbing the peace and quiet of a neighborhood in Saratoga is a big deal to residents here, Serenka said. People move here for the tranquility, and don't want to be bothered by barking dogs and loud house alarms.
"We get a lot of calls about leaf blowers at seven in the morning, or barking dogs disturbing neighbors," Serenka said. "If we have to come out a few times, we end up giving out fines."
After the excitement of the bank alarm drifted away, we continued the patrol.
"You just never know what it's going to be like out here," Serenka commented. "One night you could get two arrests, and the next night you might have nothing."
Although Saratoga is lucky that many of its crimes are barking dogs or minor violations, it's still susceptible to larger crimes. Several months ago, a convenience store and a restaurant were robbed at gunpoint. Serenka herself walked into a robbery once.
"I like to help people, and it's really nice to know that you're doing something for them," Serenka said. "I don't think that everyone needs to see what I see, how bad humans can be, because this really is a nice community and great place to work."
This article appeared in the Saratoga News, December 11, 1996.
©1996 Metro Publishing, Inc. All rights reserved