There will be no respect for the law until there is a respect for the rights of others. In the meantime, the police will be at the eye of the storm: a subject of intense controversy, not because they are responsible for the conditions with which they deal but because, like the mountain, they are there.
Attorney General Ramsey Clark's words last week were directed at a group of men who knew all too well what he was talking about. The occasion was the 74th annual meeting of the International Association of Chiefs of Police, in Kansas City, Mo. With the fiery summer of 1967 still a fresh memory, the 1,200 assembled chiefs had little else but riots on their minds. Even the new product exhibits reflected it, with everything from a chemical that makes streets too slippery for running looters to armored personnel carriers bristling with gun ports, floodlights and tear-gas nozzles. At one afternoon-long meeting of the chiefs of the 21 largest cities, says San Francisco Chief Thom as Cahill, "we never mentioned bur glary, robbery, organized crime or any thing else but riots."
Problems & Solutions. Criticized from all sides for being either too easy or too tough on rioters, the chiefs were tired of being whipping boys, and their mood mirrored the edgy morale of line cops back home. Partly to buck up that mo rale, Lyndon Johnson made a surprise visit to the Kansas City convention, told his audience that "much can explain — but nothing can justify — the riots of 1967" (see THE NATION). The chiefs applauded him enthusiastically, but it was the chance to mingle and exchange problems and solutions that gave the I.A.C.P. meeting its real value—a value that, coupled with the association's other activities, has dramatically increased its reputation in the past six years.
The I.A.C.P. was founded in 1893, but after the '20s and '30s, when it helped push police reform, it faded into little more than a great-to-see-you group. Then, six years ago, Quinn Tamm arrived. A careful FBI agent who had made his way up to the rank of assistant director, Tamm found six staffers working out of makeshift Washington offices when he took on the I.A.C.P. job. Now there are 70 on the staff, and the association has its own building. The white-haired, leathery-faced Tamm, 57, has placed particular emphasis on upgrading the training and community image of police. With the help of various public and private grants, the I.A.C.P. this year alone has run 33 two-week courses for supervisory personnel and has provided consultant services to the community relations programs of 20 departments.