Ocean City -- They stand side by side in front of the paper targets, and the noise is deafening as 18 police-issue pistols fire at once. They fire repeatedly on command, then cluster around the gun table to clean their Smith and Wesson .38s.
Class is over for the day at the police gun range.
Ocean City's newest group of seasonal officers, most of them college students, has just completed four of the 40 hours of weapons training they will receive before they are sworn in.
Summer cop is not your average summer job at the beach. They make about $8 an hour to start -- better than McDonald's, a little more than the Beach Patrol, but not a lot when your life can go on the line.
"It's kind of scary to send them out there with a firearm, but it's scarier to send them out there without the means to protect themselves," says Officer Hugh Bean, who's in charge of training the seasonal hires. "They'll encounter anything and everything during their summer here. . . . I think we instill in them a respect for what they have to do."
What they have to do is keep order in a town that explodes every June, as 300,000 visitors arrive in a municipality that lists only 4,661 registered voters. Most of the seasonal officers will end up on the Boardwalk, walking a beat on the boards.
Ocean City is the only town in Maryland permitted to hire seasonal police officers on an annual basis. The town went to the Legislature in 1989, seeking special exemption from a law restricting seasonal officers. The Legislature complied, writing an exemption that does not name Ocean City but is written in such a way that only Maryland's resort meets the requirements for annual use of seasonal hires.
Ocean City Police Chief David C. Massey was part of the Ocean City delegation that approached the Legislature. Chief Massey has more reason than most to appreciate what the seasonal officers provide the town: He was one before coming a full-time officer in 1974.
"It's necessary for us to supplement our year-round officers with 100 seasonal officers," says the chief, who leads 89 full-time officers and this year's 102 seasonal hires. "We have a unique problem in Ocean City: The population increases 30 times over, winter to summer. . . . We didn't find any other place in the nation like that."
Other states' beach towns hire some seasonal officers but don't have to rely on them the way Ocean City does because their year-round population is larger, allowing more permanent police officers, concurs City Manager Dennis Dare.
"I've made it a point to look at other beach communities," Mr. Dare says. "We're unique."
Seasonal hiring has done more than solve Ocean City's particular problem, however. It's become a seed program for law enforcement all over the country, as former Ocean City seasonals move into local, state and federal law enforcement jobs.
Officer Bean, who has been training officers for 15 years, reels off the agencies with former seasonals on their payrolls: Ten in the DEA. Fifteen to 20 in the Maryland State Police. Ten to 15 in Baltimore, city and county. Five in the Department of Natural Resources Police. Among former seasonals is the Baltimore County K-9 unit's commander, Michael Howe. "I loved Ocean City -- that is a tremendous law enforcement experience," says Lieutenant Howe, who spent five summers in the 1970s as a seasonal officer. "I handled just about everything you can think of . . . you learn a lot about yourself, and how you're going to react."
"I think the reason many of us are down here is to get the experience of law enforcement," says Scott Messick, 23, a first-year seasonal from Annapolis. "Many places do require experience as well as a four-year degree. You are a sworn police officer, albeit only for the summer."
Many of the seasonal officers come back for a second or third summer -- this year, about a third of the summer hires were returning seasonals, according to Officer Bean.
"I think it's really great. Last year, I was a booking officer. This year, I'll be able to go out on patrol," says Krista Selph, a 21-year-old from Snow Hill who was a group leader in her class.
Continuing education
The seasonal officers get the same weapons training as any officer and an abbreviated version of just about everything else: traffic tickets, accident scenes, rudimentary first aid, use of handcuffs, pepper spray and nightsticks, report writing.
They spend three weeks in a classroom -- "We give them what we can," says Officer Bean -- and two weeks in the field.
Theirs is an education that continues all summer long.
"I've been on patrol a little over a month," says Mike Willever, as signed to a day shift on the Boardwalk. "It's not at all what I expected. It's about 90 percent community relations and about 10 percent actual police work as I would think of it: investigating crimes, stopping traffic, having people pour out their beer."
What happens on Boardwalk patrol?
"Nothing you'd see on an episode of 'Cops' -- I work during days, and things are a lot calmer. A lot of shoplifting, mostly," says Officer Willever, who has played the piano as a hobby for most of his 23 years. "I compare it to the difference between jazz and rock. With jazz, you get a buildup and have time to get into a song -- that's days. Rock starts right at the beginning -- that's nights on the Boardwalk!"
A short afternoon stroll with him on the Boardwalk bears him out. His radio is mostly quiet, and the crowd seems more interested in Thrasher's fries and shopping than any kind of mischief.
Officer Willever exchanges greetings with shopkeepers on his beat as he passes their stores and says hello to an occasional Boardwalker.
Even a badge and a gun can't deflect the Margaritaville beach ambience that blossoms every summer in Ocean City.
"People I've arrested will walk up on the Boardwalk and shake my hand," he says with a mixture of amazement and humor. "That's the way I know I'm doing a good job -- people say hello to me."
One of his seasonal colleagues encountered someone he'd arrested in a bar, Officer Willever says, and the man bought his arresting officer a beer. He shakes his head in awe.
A moment later, his expression hardens as he looks at a row of cars parked by the inlet, some illegally occupying spots reserved for the handicapped.
"I'm gonna get myself some handicapped tickets today," he says with obvious displeasure. "That's a pet peeve of mine. The fine's $50, and it should be $100."
He reflects for a moment.
"I wouldn't want to be a meter maid," he says. "People get more upset over a $5 parking ticket than they do over being arrested!"
A month on the job clearly has taught him a lot about the foibles of the lawbreaking public.
But nothing he's seen so far has acted to sway him from his chosen career in law enforcement -- a choice that has roots in his childhood.
"The police were at my house a lot when I was a kid," he says quietly. "It seemed like when the police got there, everything got better . . . " He won't say more about the circumstances, citing his parents' privacy.
But his determination to be one of the ones who makes things better lingers in the air long after he's moved on to other topics.
'Motivated officers'
Idealism is typical among seasonal officers, says Chief Massey, and it works to balance out the lack of experience.
"They're moldable, motivated officers," he says.
And while the police and city officials acknowledge there's a risk in handing so much authority to such young officers, they also point to the program's track record.
"I've been here 20 years. I've never known of a seasonal officer that's shot anybody," says Chief Massey.
Part of it is undoubtedly the fact that Ocean City is relatively safe -- "In Ocean City, we don't have as many violent crimes against persons," as in some other, larger areas, he says.
"Though Ocean City doesn't have the violent crime rate that some other places do, they'll encounter anything and everything during their summer here," says Officer Bean.
Ideal summer solution
"I've never known of a problem," says Mayor Roland E. "Fish" Powell, a lifetime resident of Ocean City. Mayor Powell says the seasonal program goes back at least to the 1950s and was well established when he joined the City Council in 1968.
The program is rooted in Ocean City's summer explosion, he says, and represents the most feasible financial solution to a unique problem.
"You take a place like Ocean City -- it would break us," he says of keeping officers all year round to handle the summer crowds. "We wouldn't need them, and we couldn't pay for them."
Seasonals represent more than just a financial fix, he says.
"I think they make very good officers, especially on patrol," he says. "They're very observant."
Certainly Officer Willever is.
Walking down the Boardwalk, he sees a teddy bear that someone has dropped on the boards. Bending down, he picks it up, and the sunlight glints off the handcuffs attached to his belt.
He doesn't even break his stride -- just glances around to see if the owner has missed it. Finding no one, he gently places the green and white bear on top of a pinball machine in a video arcade and moves on.
Anything can happen on the Boardwalk patrol.