Two years ago, it seemed that everyone was demanding that the city police commissioner fire Officer Salvatore Rivieri for berating and pushing a 14-year-old who repeatedly called him "dude" and ignored orders to stop skateboarding at the Inner Harbor.
Letters poured into City Hall and police headquarters from across the country after people watched Rivieri's abrasive lecture on YouTube. A man in Beverly, Mass., addressed his missive, "Hey Dude" and called city police "a joke" and told the commissioner, "You should be ashamed!!!"
A Montgomery County resident asked: "What's the next step, pulling his service weapon on someone double parked?"
But this year, after Commissioner Frederick H. Bealefeld III stripped the officer of his job and pension, it seems that everyone is demanding that Rivieri get his gun and badge back.
Letters have poured into City Hall and police headquarters from across the country from people equally as outraged that the commissioner agreed with those who wrote the city in 2008. "You did a true injustice to the citizens of Baltimore," a man from Greektown wrote.
"By reprimanding the officer, you are sending the message that these teenagers can rule society and ignore the laws,' another person said. A man from Aberdeen penned his words on red, white and blue stationery: "Please reconsider your firing. Please, please."
And a former 52-year resident of Baltimore who now lives in New Freedom, Pa., told Bealefeld, "Usually I agree with your actions but I do not agree with this one. … Surely you must have some compassion for a man who served his city."
The bewildered brass working in the commissioner's office pondered the two files filled with contradictory notes labeled "Rivieri 2008" and "Rivieri 2010."
"A fickle public," concluded one commander.
The police are experiencing twin lesson. The first: You can never satisfy everybody. The second: Only angry people write letters.
That's how Bealefeld suddenly became the bad guy for ousting a cop whom he thought everyone wanted ousted. Constantly battered by critics who charge cover-up at every turn, the commissioner had not only fired a fellow officer but also overruled some of his own staff who had decided after a disciplinary hearing that Rivieri deserved only to be suspended.
Instead being praised for keeping his force above reproach and breaking through the famed "blue wall of silence," Bealefeld was vilified. Residents who once embraced his tenure wrote to say they were "very angry," and "very disappointed," as well as "outraged" and "heartbroken."
Bealefeld's commanders are now trying to mitigate the damage. A senior police source with knowledge of the disciplinary process said the decision wasn't as callous as it at first seemed — the commissioner tried to save the officer's job.
The source, who could not speak for the record because of confidential personnel rules, said Bealefeld offered Rivieri a 90-day suspension, spread out to avoid having to go a full three months without pay, and an agreement to attend anger management classes. The source said Rivieri refused.
"Commissioner Bealefeld tried to mediate the situation and resolve it to send a message that we aren't going to tolerate that sort of activity, but at the same time the officer could stay," the source said.
The officer's attorney did not respond to a request for comment.
Whether that new information blunts criticism or changes the minds of people who have signed petitions on behalf of Rivieri remains to be seen.
The outcry may have less to do with a shift in public opinion than with who is doing the talking. People angry with Rivieri's conduct in 2008 voiced their opinion, while the people satisfied with his behavior had no reason to get all worked up. Two years later, the folks who had been silent suddenly had reason to be outraged, while the previously outraged were suddenly content.
It appears that Bealefeld has been consistent in his feelings toward Rivieri, even if some of his top commanders have altered their views. Two years ago, the commissioner sent out form letters calling the officer's conduct "not acceptable and not consistent with the principles of the Baltimore Police Department. … He could have and should have handled the incident in a more professional manner."
Eric Bush, then 14, had refused Rivieri's orders to stop skateboarding at the harbor. Eric appeared indifferent and repeatedly called the officer "dude." An enraged Rivieri took the youth to ground while trying to get the skateboard, and then pushed Eric when he tried to get up.
"Obviously your parents don't put a foot in your butt quite enough because you don't understand the meaning of respect," Rivieri shouted during a long, angry soliloquy.
The lecture occurred in July 2007. The YouTube video was posted in February 2008. Rivieri was fired in August 2010. Part of the problem here is the painfully laborious disciplinary process that confounds even the people who set it up.
Commanders suspended Rivieri immediately after the video surfaced. But the chief of patrol quietly reinstated Rivieri in November 2008, according to a memo distributed by the police union, and gave the officer assurances that he "would not be facing termination-based findings."
But more than a year later — after Rivieri had been patrolling the streets of Southeast Baltimore and winning accolades from residents and business owners — the department's internal investigators concluded that the officer had indeed committed fireable offenses. They charged him with using unnecessary and excessive force and using discourtesies.
Rivieri declined to plead guilty to the administrative charges and opted for a hearing before three fellow officers at a proceeding called a trial board. Chaired by the major in charge of homicide, the panel heard from city and defense attorneys and witnesses.
That panel cleared Rivieri of the most serious charges and found him guilty only of failing to write a report and recommended he be suspended for five days. But Bealefeld, as is his prerogative, overruled the decision and fired the officer.
And now he's catching hell.
Perhaps a swifter resolution to this case would've blunted criticism.
Gary McLhinney, the former city police union president and now a labor negotiator for police officers across the state, said people were understandably outraged two years ago "because only one side of the story was being told. … Now they know that a police commander and two other officers found him not guilty of the vast majority of the charges. That's what's different now. Before, it was just YouTube."
The video does not show Rivieri warning Eric and his friends before the confrontation, and it does not show the end of the incident in which the officer shakes Eric's hand, chats with his mother on a cell phone and returns the skateboard.
The police commissioner is sending a message that he won't tolerate the behavior seen on the video regardless of what the disciplinary panel officers think. He can certainly use this to show a skeptical public that he can police his police and he isn't afraid to make unpopular decisions to restore public trust.
Years later, the video remains a source of embarrassment — other police departments show it to recruits to instruct them on how not to behave.
The problem for Bealefeld is that it's the people who believe teenagers need to behave who are the ones speaking up now.
peter.hermann@baltsun.com