The Pain of Persecution and the Joy of Overcoming

In November 1980 I raised my right hand and took the oath of office to become a police officer in Las Vegas. I swore to serve mankind, safeguard lives and property, protect the innocent against deception, the weak against oppression or intimidation, and the peaceful against violence or disorder; to respect the constitutional rights of all men to liberty, equality, and justice; to keep my private life unsullied as an example to all; to remain courageously calm in the face of danger, scorn, and ridicule; to develop self-restraint; and to be constantly mindful of the welfare of others. Honest in thought and deed in both my personal and official life, I swore to be exemplary to obeying the laws of the land and the regulations of my department. That day I dedicated myself before God to my chosen profession—law enforcement.

There was a tremendous responsibility associated with being a police office and I took the oath that I swore seriously. As the first woman hired under the same standards as the men, I would become the pioneer paving the way for others. In that position I became an immediate threat to the good ol’ boys in my department, and the higher I rose in rank, the greater the opposition. In 1997 when I was about to be promoted to captain after coming out number one on the list of candidates, the then-sheriff told a briefing room full of men that as long as he was in charge, I would never be promoted.

He kept true to those words and put a few of his boys on assignment to take me down. I became the target of a bogus investigation—the result of a subordinate sergeant covertly recording our conversations and then using those tapes to support a claim of retaliation. In all my years of law enforcement, I had never seen such evil done at the hands of those who had taken the same oath of office I had. Maybe I was naïve to think that the thin blue line protected those behind the badge as well as the public. When it was all said and done, the sergeant lied under oath and the sheriff’s hand-picked civil service board upheld my demotion back to sergeant, and I suffered a two-rank demotion.

You’d think the good ol’ boys would have been satisfied that they had pulled off this evil against me, but it did not stop there. Instead I was ultimately fired for praying with a man on a vehicle stop. Yes, that’s what I said—praying—not beating someone into submission or wrongfully terminating a life. Not for committing a crime or violating the oath of office. For praying! I don’t know about you, but I feel it is time to stand up against these injustices and start holding people in public offices accountable. As hard as it was for me to get back up after being knocked down, I knew I had to write my story and expose the corruption and political games that go on in our police agencies. Since the taxpayers are the ones who pay for this nonsense, I thought you should hear from someone who has been there. My name is Debra Gauthier, a 21-year veteran officer with the Las Vegas Metropolitan Police Department. For the whole story, check out my book, Bright Lights, Dark Places.