Minister-Turned-Cop Balances Roles
By Anthony LaMonica
Bergen, NJ. Record
Staff Writer
Working a recent over nightshift one Saturday, Fair Lawn Police Officer David G. Boone broke up a fistfight in a bar and later made a drunken-driving arrest. As Boone handcuffed the driver, the suspect cursed him out.
Six hours later, at 10:30 the next morning, Boone appeared at Parsippany's First Baptist Community Church in another guise: minister. A Bible, white shirt, and black suit took the place of his 9mm handgun, bulletproof vest, and police uniform.
Despite his lack of sleep, Boone smiled as he stood at the pulpit and prepared to deliver his sermon to his small flock. Fresh-faced parents, toddlers, and grandmothers smiled back.
Ordained as a Baptist minister in 1984, the 37-year-old Parsippany-Troy Hills resident has been First Baptist's pastor since 1993 and a Fair Lawn policeman and chaplain since 1994. As such, he is among 55 people out of approximately 2,200 chaplains in the country to do both, according to the International Conference of Police Chaplains based in Destin, FL.
Police Chief Rodman Marshall likes having an officer who also is a man of the cloth. "Being one of the guys . . . he can reach a lot of the men easier than a conventional chaplain," Marshall says.
Boone acknowledges that his twin careers may seem crazy. "It may look like they are two opposite careers," he says cheerfully. "Actually, they fit together quite nicely."
Boone's wife, Cheryl, supports her husband's choice.
"He has a lot of energy, and he loves to help others. These are both ways to do it."
The adopted son of the late Donald and Bonnie Boone, he grew up as a preacher's kid in North Haledon. Boone, whose father served as pastor at First Baptist Church in Paterson during the Seventies and Eighties, says his Christian faith has always played an important role in his life.
"I made my first sermon at the age of 13," says Boone. "I've been in love with it ever since."
Despite his role as chaplain, Boone does not impose his beliefs on fellow officers. "The guys know I'm there if they need to talk. You become friends first. The opportunities to counsel come later."
He also does not try to convert members of the public when he's on the beat. Sometimes, however, suspects learn he is a clergyman. The reaction is surprise and, sometimes, embarrassment.
Recently, a suspect apologized to Boone for swearing. "I told him not to worry about it," says Boone, who marches on special occasions as a member of a nine-man honor guard and teaches young people about substance abuse as a Drug Abuse Resistance Education instructor.
When Boone first joined the force, some of the men were uneasy around him.
Capt. Anthony Serrao, director of Fair Lawn community policing, says: "Some of the guys weren't sure how to act around him."
These days, tensions have eased. His fellow officers affectionately call him "Padre" and "Father Boone." Boone faced similar pressures when he served as a soldier and a chaplain in the Army between 1988 and 1993.
"Guys hear you're a minister and they feel self-conscious. It takes a while for them to get to know you and also for you to prove yourself."
Serrao said: "Now everyone knows David is a regular guy and a great police officer. He gives 110 percent every day."
"David doesn't talk to you like he's above you. He talks to you on your level," says Sam Meola, one of Boone's parishioners.
Meola showed up at a recent Sunday service distraught but unwilling to discuss his problem -- the breakup of a romance. Boone saw it all over Meola's face but didn't press the issue. Instead, he asked Meola to meet him at a local Bennigan's that night.
"He listened to me, and then he told me some stories about some of his own experiences when he was a younger man," Meola says. "That talk really helped me. He has compassion. And that's for everyone."
At church, Boone gestures animatedly during his sermon. After the service, at coffee hour, the large man makes the rounds, smiling and friendly.
Membership at First Baptist, which was begun in 1962, has risen from 12 to 40 under Boone's leadership. Boone, the father of two children, added a Sunday school two years ago and a Hispanic ministry last April.
The Rev. Osvaldo Jimenez, pastor of Mision Hispana at Vail Road, says Boone is always there to help. "He will do anything he can for you. He has a big heart -- a true man of God."
In the station house, Boone plays the benign straight man in the banter among fellow officers. He goes along with the jokes without throwing back any sarcastic comments of his own.
Driving around on the beat, Boone encounters a Ridgewood patrol car that has pulled over a suspect. He leaps out of his cruiser and offers his help, sincerely and without airs.
"As a police officer, you meet all kinds of people, the best and the worst," he says. "I try to treat everyone the same -- with respect and decency, the same way I'd like to be treated."
Seeing the dark side of human nature can make it difficult to be a cop who also proclaims the Gospel, experts say.
"After a while, keeping your faith may become a challenge. It takes a strong person to be able to do both," says David DeRevere, executive director of the International Conference of Police Chaplains.
Last year, Boone was among the first officers on the scene of a brutal homicide. The victim was an elderly man whom Boone had met. Boone and another officer dashed into the victim's house to find him beaten to death.
Boone says his immediate reactions were automatic and professional. "It was only later that I thought of how horrible it was. I mean, it was a completely senseless crime," he says.
Despite the horror, Boone stands firm in his faith. "God didn't create tragedies on earth. People do. We all make our own decisions as to whether we want to do right or wrong," he says.
The premature deaths of his parents back in the Eighties didn't shake his faith either.
"Those were two of the nicest people you could meet. They'd literally give you the shirts off their backs, and all of a sudden they were gone. If you looked for meaning there, you wouldn't be able to find it," he says. " . . . I think we are just here to live and do our jobs and be as good to one another as we can."
He says he preaches that there is a right way to live and a wrong way to live, a belief bolstered by his life on the beat.
"I'm a big believer in justice."
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This story appeared in the "In the Trenches" feature section of the Bergen, NJ, Record that highlights the people who help faith communities thrive.
Copyright © 2000
Bergen Record Corp
Feb. 10, 2000