At 71, "Officer Wes" is still on the beat

Don't ask Seattle police Officer Wes Ferris if he's planning to retire.

He's not. At 71, he says, he's too young.

Besides, he feels great, loves his job and can't imagine what else he'd do.

The 6-foot-3, 185-pound officer, who's partial to flat-top haircuts, says he can still run down outlaws and wrestle them to the ground if necessary. Heck, if he had his way he'd be patrolling the streets of Ballard on foot, peering into bars and businesses, talking to people and making sure that everyone behaves.

"There's never been, and never will be, a cop more respected," said Siddis, a regular at the Ballard Smoke Shop who did not give a second name.

"Officer Wes," as he's known on the street, says he hasn't won any major awards or had any "spectacular" cases in the more than 40 years he's been a Seattle cop.

But he believes he's been called to the work, has a gift for it and that he's made a difference.

He recounts the day a while back when a man eyed him and then made his way over.

"He was one of the ones who had turned to the bottle and was literally in the gutter. I stopped to talk to him every day and told him he had to get help. He did get help," said Ferris, "and now he's working for Homeland Security."

"He came up to me and said, 'Thank you. You never gave up on me. You saved my life.' "

"That's what makes my work gratifying," said Ferris. "That's my plaque. That's my award."

Ferris is among a small group of officers who choose to work long past the time most of their colleagues have moved on to second careers or retired, according to Mike Germann of the Seattle police Pension Office. Germann said there are a handful of officers like Ferris who have more than 40 years under their belt and a couple dozen with more than 30 years of service to the department.

There is no mandatory retirement age in police work, he said. Older officers are required to pass the same qualifying tests as others.

It's not because of the money, the recession or any other trend that is prompting some officers to continue working beyond normal retirement age, Germann said.

"These are people who stay because they like coming to work everyday and doing what they can to help people who need it."

Capt. Mike Washburn, of the North Precinct, calls Ferris an "icon."

Washburn said Ferris can keep pace with the best of the younger officers and is a "stellar example to a lot of folks."

"He loves police work and he takes good care of our victims and our suspects as well," Washburn said.

Ferris grew up on a 175-acre farm in Indiana, where he said he learned the value of hard work, common sense and straight answers.

He was 31 years old with a young family, a degree in sociology and a job working in a juvenile-detention facility in Utah when he realized that spending his days "in a cubicle wasn't going to work" for him. He answered an ad seeking Seattle police officers, joined the force in 1968 and has never looked back.

Most of his career was spent patrolling the streets of Ballard.

When he started walking the Market Street and Ballard Avenue beat in 1971, there were 20 taverns on a two-block stretch that served the extensive fishing community.

Cops were able to use more discretion in their work back in those days, he said.

He liked to handle things "on his own," he said, without creating a lot of paperwork or backlogs for the courts.

He freely concedes he was the kind of officer who rarely made arrests.

He can't remember a single time he ever had to draw his gun.

He was blessed, he said, with the patience, understanding and compassion needed to keep the peace.

"I took the time to talk to people and listen to them. I didn't think I was better than anyone else," he said. "I never looked down on people who made mistakes or were down on their luck."

He had a habit of warning people who had outstanding warrants and giving them a chance to take care of business before hauling them in.

He called parents directly when their kids were in trouble, and he often held money for newly docked fisherman who feared "getting rolled" and losing their cash during drinking sprees.

"It was nothing for me to hold onto $1,000 and give it back in the morning," he said.

A couple of times he handcuffed drunk and unruly people to trees or bike racks until they calmed down.

"I could have arrested them, but what would that have done? I wanted them to learn what was their responsibility."

People used to wait for him to come on duty and report problems directly to him instead of calling 911.

"They knew I would handle it as soon as I crossed paths with whoever was causing the problems and it saved bars from having the Liquor Control Board on their back," he recalled.

Ferris was transferred to another sector of the North Precinct about 10 years ago. SPD spokesman Sean Whitcomb said police do not comment on personnel matters but that it is "routine and normal for an officer to experience a change in duties" over the course of a career.

"He's probably the best officer I have ever known," said Marsha Erickson, a bartender at the Ballard Smoke Shop. "He's so caring and giving and understanding. We called him 'our officer' because he took such good care of us."

"We miss him so much," said Dave Langsjoen of Ballard. "He is an honest man. He's a cop you can trust."

Ferris, who raised 10 children and lives in Everett with a wife he calls his "reason for living," didn't feel old when he turned 70.

"It was weird," he said. "I don't know what I expected, but I don't feel old."

He would gladly trade the patrol car he now rides in for a chance at another "good walking beat."

A Mormon, he doesn't drink or smoke and apparently has been blessed with good genes.

He said his only real faults are a tendency to work too hard — he has never had a regular eight-hour day and has always worked overtime and off-duty — and perhaps a touch of stubbornness.

He's suffered his share of losses and tragedies, the death of a daughter and two grandchildren, but he's fortunate to be at peace with himself.

Although he said he has made it a policy not to "moan and groan" about the things he can't control, there are a couple of things he can grouse about when he wants to.

He thinks the department, for example, ought to re-examine old-fashioned community policing.

There is no task force, SWAT team, bicycle program or policy change that can take the place of a cop who knows the people on his streets and cares about them, he said.

A couple of years ago, Ferris survived life-threatening blood clots that entered his heart and lungs after he broke his foot breaking up a domestic-violence brawl.

He got back on the job as soon as he could.

"I feel like the good Lord brought me through that because he's not done with me yet," he said. "I've still got work to do."

Christine Clarridge: 206-464-8983 or cclarridge@seattletimes.com

Information in this article, originally published October 20, 2008, was corrected November 11, 2008. A previous version of this story incorrectly stated that said he was transferred out of Ballard because of department policy. The transfer was not the result of department policy, according to SPD spokesman Sean Whitcomb, who said it is "routine and normal for an officer to experience a change in duties" over the course of a career. The incorrect information has been replaced.