Exiting the police station, the first move is southbound on Idaho Avenue.

Officer Anthony McElwee is rolling into service in an unmarked Chevy. It’s about 11 a.m. on a weekday in Northwest Washington, D.C.

I’m in the passenger seat, taking advantage of the Metropolitan Police Department’s ride-along program (after I get my “he’s clean” diagnosis from the background check on my license).

Metropolitan Police Department Officer Anthony McElwee, a 16-year veteran, keeps close watch on traffic, mainly in Northwest. Photo Credit: John A. Bray

Right onto Massachusetts, westbound toward Ward Circle, an artesian well of motoring dysfunction.

Another officer already is attending to a wreck in the circle. McElwee stops a few cars back from the light. Cars flow by on Nebraska. Lefts on the circle are illegal.

A taxi makes a left in front of us. When the light changes, McElwee catches up with the taxi and pulls it to the side. Using a hand-held ticket machine, he cites the driver and taps in reminder notes about the circumstances in case he’s challenged in court. A hand-size printer rolls out the driver’s $100 pink ticket.

McElwee, whose primary job is traffic code enforcement, re-enters the flow of traffic. Sometimes he gets going around and around the circle. “It throws off my equilibrium,” he says with a smile.

At the Foxhall Community Citizens Association’s monthly assembly at Hardy Playground, McElwee is a regular, providing updates on local crime statistics and listening to concerns. He shows a sense of humor, perhaps mentioning how an errant driver receiving a ticket might wonder aloud whether McElwee has “anything better to do.” To which, he might reply, “No, not really.”

McElwee, whose main duty is keeping watch on traffic, says he always wanted to be a big-city police officer. He loves the work, sees it as a way to help people while enforcing the law. He’s got 16 years in the job.

The department honored McElwee as the 2012 Second District Officer of the Year. The district, one of seven, covers much of Northwest.

He’s received extensive training. The police academy was nine months. He’s been trained for field sobriety and breathalyzer testing, 40 hours of instruction for each. Bicycle patrol training was tough. “You have to be in good shape.” Many didn’t pass. He did. He doesn’t do the bike beat anymore, unless it’s off duty and it’s his own motorcycle.

A call comes in for a suspicious vehicle idling in front of the German Embassy. Whoever reported it didn’t include the tag number. So deeper information isn’t available to calibrate the approach to the call.

He spots the big SUV and pulls in behind it. He gets the tag and calls the dispatcher to find out if it’s stolen. This patrol car isn’t equipped with a computer. The computers don’t always work anyway, and sometimes officers just want to be in touch with the dispatcher.

McElwee pulls back into the traffic, drives past the vehicle, flips a U-turn and makes a pass to see if anyone is in the vehicle. He can’t be sure. The windows are tinted. He flips another U-turn and pulls back behind the vehicle again. Per procedure, he waits for back-up, which arrives in minutes.

The vehicle is not stolen. The two officers get out and make their approach. Everything checks out. The driver is just waiting for someone and the car is running to support the air conditioning. Summer has begun. It’s hot.

Into the flow of traffic again. A few seconds later, McElwee sees the driver of an oncoming Mercedes SUV on their cell phone. He flips a U-turn and follows. The driver taps the brakes. One of the taillights is out. McElwee follows through an intersection to a safer stretch and pulls the vehicle. The driver gets a $100 ticket for illegal cell phone use, meaning it wasn’t hands-free.

McElwee tells me that he explained to the driver that the law provides for dismissal of the cell phone ticket if it’s a first offense and the driver shows the court they have acquired hands-free equipment. “Most people don’t know that,” he says. “I tell them as a courtesy.” He gave an oral warning about the taillight.

The number of tickets issued by the department’s officers can vary considerably from year to year. According to a 2014 DC Inspector General report, they issued 79,600 moving violation tickets in 2013, totaling about $7 million in revenue. The number paled in comparison to automated traffic enforcement via red light and speed cameras, which accounted that year for 666,275 tickets and revenue of about $88.8 million. The department employs about 4,000 sworn officers and civilians.

We go back to the Second District police station and switch to a marked patrol car.

Back to the traffic. There’s an accident downtown. Two cars, side-by-side in dual left-turning lanes, apparently were unable to navigate the transition from westbound to southbound without colliding.

When we arrive, the two drivers are interacting cordially. It’s a fender-bender. No one is injured. McElwee observes the drivers’ required exchange of license, registration and insurance information, with each using their mobile communication devices to photograph the other’s documents. Drivers tend to summon police for such incidents, but it isn’t required for minor mishaps.

McElwee returns to the Ford and the flow of traffic. He participated in the field testing of the police body cameras. He’s looking forward to being issued his device. The protocol is to inform people that “our conversation” is being recorded, he says, adding, “nobody wants to be seen looking like a jackass.”

We pass the gas station by the ramp to Key Bridge. That’s where McElwee responded to his first strong-arm robbery incident. He was working midnights. He’s got the seniority now for daytime, weekday duty.

We come to an intersection controlled by stop signs. The cars freeze at the sight of the marked patrol car. “Everybody’s afraid to do anything,” McElwee says. He makes his turn. The traffic thaws.

Down the road, at an entrance to Glover-Archbold National Park, sits a disheveled, shouting man. McElwee stops and gets out to see how the man is doing. The man says he is OK and doesn’t need anything. The man is talking incoherently, but gives the officer his name and Social Security number. McElwee runs the identification through the dispatcher to check on warrants or missing person reports. There are none. As long as he isn’t a danger to himself or others, McElwee can let him be.

We head back to the station so McElwee can drop me off and finish his shift.

© 2016 John A. Bray