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Harris hanging up badge with 43 years in town, 20 as chief
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You probably can’t define what makes a good cop in a few words but Thomas Harris—who is retiring at the end of May after 43 years in Rockdale law enforcement, the last 20 as police chief—comes pretty close.

“You’ve got to be as good as a preacher and as mean as the meanest son of a gun in town,” he said. “And you need to know when to be which one.”

Harris, who is believed to be the longest serving police chief in Rockdale history, first came to town in 1977 as a deputy sheriff, serving under the late Sheriff Leroy Broadus.

He became police chief in 2000.

“Looking back, I feel God wanted me to be in Rockdale and do what I’ve been doing so long. He sort of pushed me into it,” Harris said.

PIANO MOVER—He’s not kidding about that. At crucial points in his career it has seemed like doors opened to get Harris to Rockdale and stay.

A native of Chilton in Falls County, Harris was working in construction in that county and had not considered law enforcement until some extraordinary circumstances occurred.

Two Falls County deputies had been sent to make an arrest and the suspect shot them both to death.

“I came home from work one afternoon and the sheriff’s car was sitting in front of my house,” Harris recalled. “I thought ‘uh-oh’.”

The sheriff wanted Harris to be a deputy. “He told me to think about it overnight and give him an answer,” Harris said.

“I spent a sleepless night thinking about that,” he said. “Twila (the late Twila Harris, the chief’s wife of 49 years) didn’t want me to do it.”

(Huge irony. Mrs. Harris later also served in the law enforcement-judicial world, becoming justice of the peace in Rockdale and officiating for 28 years).

He took the job.

Four years later he was thinking about leaving the Falls County SO and had a second job moving pianos and organs for a music store.

“I was delivering one to Cameron and Leroy Broadus had just been elected sheriff so I decided to go by and apply for a job. I was in my piano-moving clothes and I sure didn’t look like a deputy sheriff,” Harris said.

Broadus was impressed with the candidate, but there was a problem. The sheriff had already promised the job to a previous applicant.

“He told me if the circumstances changed he would call me. Two days later that’s exactly what happened,” Harris said.

And so, Thomas Harris came to Rockdale. He’s still here.

“One of the big things Leroy ran on was stationing a deputy in South Milam County. That was me,” Harris said.

HARD LESSON—Everyone learns in their jobs, but law enforcement lessons can be more dramatic, and tragic, than others.

“When I started, there was no such thing as ‘backup’,” he said. “It was one riot, one ranger. I went out to arrest a man I knew in connection with some thefts early one morning and, of course, I was alone.”

“He confessed, I took his confession and I told him I’d have to take him in and he could make bail and be back home pretty soon.

“He started toward the back door and I told him to stop and he said ‘you know me, I’m not going to run on you’.

“I stayed in the living room to talk with his wife and daughter, who had come out to see what was going on.

“He walked onto the back porch, grabbed a shotgun and killed himself with a shot to the head.”

“Ever since that day I have had a personal policy, and stressed it to all my officers, that from the moment you tell someone they are under arrest you never let them get them more than an arm’s length away from you,” Harris said.

“I’ve had people tell me ‘I have to go to the bathroom’ and my reply was ‘okay, if you can do it with me standing there by you’,” he said.

MEMORABLE—Some calls may be deadly (literally) serious and have a lighter moment at the same time.

Such is the nature of law enforcement and one, in particular, sticks in Harris’s mind.

A multiple murder had been reported in the eastern part of the county, the murderer fled and Harris gave pursuit toward Hearne on US 79.

“As I went over one of the overpasses, I saw him,” Harris said. “He had pulled off the road and was underneath the overpass. I had to go down a little bit to get off the highway and come back toward him.”

The Robertson County Sheriff was closer than any Milam officer. He had heard the radio call and he and one of his deputies rushed to assist Harris.

“They were right behind me,” Harris said. “We saw the guy had gotten out of his car and was standing there with a gun. Both the Robertson officers and I jumped out of our cars, drew our guns, aimed them and started telling this guy to drop his gun.

He didn’t. The suspect took his life on the spot.

“A few seconds later Milam Sheriff Broadus showed up. The Robertson Sheriff, (following protocol, to show that he had not been involved in a fatal shooting in another county) handed his gun to Leroy and asked him to check it (to show he had not fired a shot),” Harris said.

“Leroy did. Three of the chambers were empty. The other three had snake shot (similar to shotgun shells but much less capacity).

“He told Leroy, ‘well, I guess all I could have done was just sprayed him!’

“He had been at his farm, shooting snakes, when he heard the call.”

It was a moment that helped to ease a tense, and very grim, situation.

SUPPORT—Harris keeps returning to the support he has received from local residents, dating back to even before he was hired in the summer of 2000.

“I found out that so many people had already called the city and requested, and in some cases demanded, that I be hired as chief,” he said. “That support has continued from that day to this.”

“I cannot begin to thank the people of Rockdale enough,” he said. “I really love this town.”

Of course nobody supported him more than his wife.

“Twila was such a fantastic person,” Harris said. “So dedicated.”

Probably only law enforcement officers and their families know how much time is involved in their jobs.

Harris, when prodded by the questioner, addressed that aspect.

“There are a lot of 16-hour days,” he said. “And when you get called out in the middle of the night you still have to show up the next morning. I was on call during vacations, too.”

What about a household with two public servants, police chief and J-P?

“There were times we had something planned and Twila could not find another J-P to cover for her,” Harris said.

What would happen? “We didn’t go,” he said.

SERVANTS—“You know there’s a reason they call us ‘public servants’,” he said. “That’s what we are. We serve the public. I make sure our officers know that, too”

“After 43 years here, I know ‘the public’ almost person by person,” he said. “They’ve been good to me.”

“I have enjoyed every minute I’ve been in law enforcement here, ” he said.