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Vol. 72, No. 8, August 1999

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Cops & Lawyers: Combining the careers
of law enforcement and the practice of law

Two Out of Three

As a young girl, Cheri Maples had three ambitions: to become a cop, a lawyer, and a professional baseball player. "Two out of three's not bad," Maples says.

She's been an officer with the Madison Police Department for 15 years, during the last five of which she attended U.W. Law School part time. During those five years, "All I did was raise my kids (two sons, now ages 11 and 16), law school, and work," she says. She graduated this spring.

Before her tenure as a cop, Maples was a social worker, focusing on domestic violence. She was well on her way toward a Ph.D. in social work when she realized an academic profession wouldn't be right for her. She applied to the police department, which wasn't as much of a leap as many think. "A lot of what patrol officers do," she explains, "is crisis intervention."

Similarly, her law studies and police work have intertwined, Maples says. She feels her class work was enriched by the practical experience she's had in criminal procedure and constitutional law issues. And her legal training adds to her current job duties. "I think it's important for police officers to have an understanding of what it is we're trying to protect and what that means," Maples says. "Not that I didn't know that before. But law school helped me understand and appreciate it in a different way."

"I really did learn a lot in law school," Maples adds. "I've heard people say, 'I didn't learn anything in law school.' I think those are the people who don't see the big picture." For Maples, getting a better take on the big picture was one of the benefits of becoming a lawyer, while continuing to be a cop. Besides being a lieutenant in the detective division, she's also the department's sensitive crimes liaison. "I get to help set policy with respect to domestic violence, sexual assault, child abuse and neglect - things that are near and dear to my heart," Maples says. "So my worlds intermesh nicely."

At this point, Maples has no intention of leaving the police force. Still, a law degree boosts her future options should she ever want to be a police chief or hang out a shingle after retiring from the police force at age 52. But for now, Maples is staying put. And after five vacationless years while in law school, she's planning a month-long Himalayan trek this fall, during which, she says, "I plan to think about some things carefully."

For the Prosecution

Unlike Maples, Ricardo Perez had no childhood dream of being a police officer. "When I was growing up, I didn't care for the police at all," he says. "I guess I woke up and found I was the idiot, not the police, so I decided I'd like to give that a try." He became an officer with the Wisconsin State Patrol at age 23, initially in Kenosha County. After a few years, he was ready for a change.

"The law fascinates me," Perez says. "I really enjoy reading it and trying to understand where people are coming from - understanding both sides and being able to argue both sides' interests." He'll graduate from law school in December. This summer he's completing a 10-week internship in the Kenosha County District Attorney's office.

Looking ahead, Perez says district attorney work is his top career choice. To that job he feels he could bring a valuable perspective from his trooper experiences. For example, "Officers often complain about how the DAs handle things, as far as plea bargaining and so on," Perez notes. "The officers sometimes see it as an attack on their credibility that the DA doesn't pursue charges. But the reality is we just don't have time to pursue all the charges."

At the same time, Perez knows how it feels to work the night shift as an officer, get home at 7 a.m., and then have to report for a 9 a.m. court appearance, only to find out it's been canceled. "I've been apologized to for that, but I've never been given an explanation as to why I didn't get the notice (of cancellation)," Perez says. Officers' annoyance understandably builds up, particularly when they have to make child care or other arrangements to be able to be in court.

This happens frequently, "and it really gives officers a sour taste about the prosecution and the defense," Perez says. "It's not that anybody is being vindictive or deceitful. It's just poor communication."

Having been in those shoes, Perez would make special efforts should he become a prosecutor. "I will make personal attempts," he says, "to get in contact with officers to let them know if a trial is going or not - before the end of their shift, or before they go on vacation. I'll try to make their job a little easier and make them want to come in and do a good job for me (in court)."

For the Defense

As a part-time U.W. Madison student studying sociology while he was working as a Sun Prairie police detective, David Dickmann often trudged up Bascom Hill on his way to classes. "I'd look over at the law school," he recalls, "and think, 'Maybe I ought to go there some day.' It wasn't really a serious thought."

But years later Dickmann reached a juncture in his career. He'd been a beat cop for six years and a detective for 10 years, all in Sun Prairie. He felt it was time either to move on to a bigger department or to try to nab a job with the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Starting at the bottom of the ladder in a new police department held no appeal. So he opted for the FBI. The last step in the bureau's hiring process was a physical, during which Dickmann was surprised to learn he had a high-frequency hearing loss, probably stemming from wearing headphones eight hours a day while in the Navy.

With the FBI off his list, "law school just kind of popped up on the radar screen," Dickmann says. He attended part time and, with the schedule of a combination law student/detective, "I missed a lot of Packers' games," he notes. He graduated in 1992 and has been an attorney with the public defender's office in Stevens Point ever since.

The move from detective to public defender might seem incongruous to some, Dickmann acknowledges, but not to him. Sure, he'd had his share of grilling from defense attorneys when he was a cop on the witness stand, "but I didn't take it personally," he says. "The way I saw it was that everybody had a role, and things would generally work out if you did the best professional job you could. So, for me, the logical progression (from police work) was to go into criminal law. And being either a prosecutor or defense attorney would have been absolutely fine with me."

The experiences and knowledge he gained as a cop are a plus as a lawyer, Dickmann says. "Those would serve me well as a prosecutor," he notes, "but I think they serve me even better as a defense attorney. When I look at a police report, I can read between the lines."

One aspect he misses from his police days is the special camaraderie that springs up among people working together in stressful situations. Now that he's a lawyer, "I don't know if it's because of my law enforcement background," Dickman says, "but I've made some good acquaintances with law enforcement officers here - even though they know if I get them on the stand, I'm going to give them a terrible time."

"I couldn't be happier than where I'm at with the public defender's office," he adds. "I love defense work. This is where I'll be until I'm done practicing law."

Badge to Bench

John Siefert, a newly elected Milwaukee County circuit court judge, always wanted to be a cop. Even when he went to law school, he yearned to be a cop. "I always wanted to get a realistic view of life on the street in the big city," he says. After graduating and serving a short stint as an assistant district attorney in northern Wisconsin, he headed to Milwaukee to join the police department in 1976.

From there, Siefert has been back and forth from badge to bench twice. After three years as a street cop in inner city Milwaukee, he successfully ran for municipal judge in 1979, obtaining a leave of absence from the police department. After an unsuccessful bid for reelection four years later, he returned to his squad car, where he put in another six-year stretch. Plus, he did legal work for an insurance company on the side. Every so often the company offered him a full-time position, and when Siefert had an episode while chasing a robbery suspect (he collapsed with what he thought was a heart attack, although it wasn't), he decided maybe the insurance executive job wasn't such a bad idea. He stayed there a year, before being elected Milwaukee County treasurer, and then in 1993 voters once again returned him to the municipal bench. In April 1999, in the midst of his second term, he succeeded in running for circuit court judge.

That's just one instance signifying a larger problem, Siefert says. "Different parts of the overall criminal justice system are talking past each other," he says, "because they don't understand what the other parts are doing."

As for the attorney's part, what distinguishes that role from the others, Siefert emphasizes, is the commitment to due process. "That's very important," he says, "because nonlawyers often don't understand it at all."

Identity theft is another problem Siefert saw as a cop that he's worked on in his second municipal judge term. This can be a serious problem when a city goes to a citation system rather than a system of summary arrest for assaults, thefts, and so on. When receiving the citation, perpetrators often use a false name, or steal another's name. There's no booking to verify identity. The person whose name is on the ticket doesn't appear in municipal court because he or she is unaware of the charge, and therefore is found guilty by default. "That citation comes back to haunt and ruin the life of the person whose name was stolen," Siefert says. Again, it's a glitch that arises because different parts of the criminal justice system don't completely understand the workings of other parts.

"It's one criminal justice system," Siefert says. "The ability to understand all the components and how they interrelate is extremely valuable. My one regret is that so far in my career I've had no experience in corrections and probation and parole. The more you understand the system as a whole, the better you are able to function in any given part of it."

Dianne Molvig operates Access Information Service, a Madison research, writing, and editing service. She is a frequent contributor to area publications.