Posted: 8/15/07
Investigator depended on family support in 30+ year career
 Investigator Carlson spent the better part of a Saturday at a Goose Lake accident scene last August. In retirement he plans to look for a new job, a regular 9-5, no weekends type of position. |
By Patrick Tepoorten
Sgt. Garice Carlson, investigative supervisor with the Chisago County Sheriff's Office, is retiring at the end of this week, bringing to an end a 32-year career that has been at the center of local crime investigations for years. So, naturally, his fellow employees are giving him the needle.
"Only five furlongs to go, ol' hoss," said Chief Deputy Bob Shoemaker as he passed Carlson, 52, on Monday morning. "We've been giving him a lot of grief," added Sheriff Todd Rivard later.
But Carlson is the kind of guy people feel comfortable giving a good ribbing. Take every Hollywood stereotype of a crime investigator - tough, mean, jaded, vulgar, dark - and strip it away. Despite his job, which demands he see at times the very worst of what Chisago County has to offer, Carlson himself is no reflection of that. Polite, friendly, good natured, quiet - these are words one is more likely to find associated with the county's top investigator.
For someone in his investigative cross hairs, he's not exactly a presence that inspires fear, yet, according to Rivard, Carlson has an uncanny ability to produce confessions from ne'er do wells.
"It's his style," said Rivard, "the nice guy approach. He catches them on the details. I've never seen him yell and scream. He's methodical. He gets his facts straight and wears them down."
For Carlson, being the "nice guy" isn't just a style, it's who he is. But how does a person who, as a matter of routine, investigates sexual assaults and murders (two such investigations in just the last year) views autopsies of and is immersed in the stories of victims, maintain such an even keel? He credits a strong family.
"Mary (his wife) has stood by me all the way," said Carlson, who has been married almost as long as he has been on the job. "It has been 27 wonderful years."
"I've gotten a lot of support; I'm very lucky. She always knew when I had a rotten day."
Carlson started his career with the Sheriff's Office just before his 20th birthday and, like all new hires at the time, was relegated to dispatch. He spent 17 months there before he was allowed to be on patrol, a beat that was much different than it is today.
In 1975 the county population was about a third what it is today and the Sheriff's Office had seven deputies on patrol as opposed to the 30 it employs now. In fact, 24-hour coverage was yet to be employed, and it really wasn't needed. "They rolled up the streets at night," said Carlson.
But the advent of 24-hour gas stations and restaurants, and a growing population, soon changed that. Another thing that has changed is that roads actually have names.
"There were no street names in those days. Dispatch would say, ‘take a left where Ole Olson lives.' One time I was told to go by an old farm and turn when I saw the Case combine harvesting," said Carlson.
Another very significant change is in communications. Today, with cell phones and radio coverage, computers and data bases, deputies are never out of contact or without necessary information. In the mid-70s that wasn't always the case.
Cars without radios were often out of contact. To be reached, dispatchers would hit a switch that activated a car's horn and light bar, letting deputies know to call in. From there it was a trip to the nearest pay phone, unless you were in Rush City - a long distance call - in which case deputies had to come all the way back to North Branch.
As well, information was at a premium. On a good day, getting information about a suspect could take 10 to 15 minutes using the old teletype system; more typical was a 20 to 30-minute wait. And if a suspect was from out of state a deputy would likely have to wait until the next business day to get background information.
And, if arrests were made, there was a time when deputies had no jail to house suspects. "After the old jail was condemned, we had to handcuff people to a water pipe," until a transport officer could be awakened. The pipe was 20 feet from the county's dispatcher, located in a lower level room the county rented from Westlund Monument. And the reason suspects were there was so "dispatch could scream," alerting deputies via radio if the suspect got out of hand.
If there is something that hasn't changed, it is the hours. Carlson can be called upon to go to a scene at any hour of any day. Upon his retirement, and after a long vacation, Carlson intends to find another job. He isn't too particular, as long as it is nine-to-five, Monday through Friday. "No weekends, no on-call," he added.
Still, Carlson knows it will be difficult to leave his career of 30-plus years. "It will be hard. I'll miss the people," but he doesn't place much emphasis on his own contribution, "I'm just a spoke in the wheel."
Rivard, who put Carlson in charge of investigations soon after being elected to sheriff, may differ. "He carries a lot of knowledge of the past, of the people here. It is not replaceable history." Rivard called Carlson "true blue," and said, "he is one of those guys that always shows up for work and does his job. He will be very missed."
In looking back, Carlson would be justified in saying any number of things about his career, cases he has worked, and things he has had to witness. But Carlson doesn't think that way.
For him family and career are entwined and he is far more likely to talk about his life outside of work.
Central to that are his children. Twins Mike and Matt, 20, are in college playing football. Daughter Mary, 23 is a teacher and about to get married. Daughter Kate, 21, is in the Air Force Reserves and in training to be a flight medic. And, sooner than he will tell you about himself, he is far more likely to tell you something about them.
"They have been such a big part of my life," he says, and in such a way there can be little doubt that, when he reflects on the last 32 years, he sees the whole picture.
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