Repairs help rebuild LAPD's image when wrong door broken down
By Jason Kandel, Staff Writer
Article Last Updated: 03/15/2008 11:01:42 PM PDT
When Los Angeles cops busted through Mae Phillips' front door last month looking for her grandson, they blew out the door jamb, ripped out casing and drywall, and left the shattered remains hanging by the hinges.
But just as sometimes happens in the movies, the suspect wasn't there - and Phillips became the unwitting victim in a real-life police raid seeking members and associates of a Venice street gang.
Enter LAPD's little-known "Wrong Doors Unit" - also known as Mark Jenkins.
"Mistakes do happen now and then," said Jenkins, a civilian carpenter with the Los Angeles Police Department.
"We're just there to fix the door. For the most part, people are really happy we're repairing these things. They're real happy to see their needs are being met."
Amid an LAPD civilian staff of 4,500, Jenkins often can be overlooked. But he plays a crucial role in fixing things that cops may break when serving warrants at what turn out to be wrong addresses.
Last year, Jenkins fixed eight doors damaged in such incidents - up from four the year before.
"It's really good in terms of the city image," said Laura Filitoff, commanding officer of the fiscal operations division, which oversees the supply section in which Jenkins works.
"Our cops go in, and they get the wrong door. We fix the problem. It builds good will in the community."
And when he's not fixing doors, Jenkins custom-builds everything from entryways and
stairways for bomb squad training exercises to custom lockers, crime-map frames and display cases.
"The Police Department's requirements are unique," he said. "Weapons drawers for vehicles. Stuff you can't just go into Ikea and buy."
The duties keep Jenkins constantly on the move, even as the number of police-damaged doors has fallen far below what it used to be.
"I heard back in the day of (former Police Chief Daryl) Gates, they had 75 in one year, if I'm not mistaken. Right now, things are a lot more politically correct than they were back in the '70s and '80s," he said.
The 47-year-old Santa Monica native came to the LAPD as a reluctant city employee. His father was a handyman, and a young Jenkins dreamed of joining the tight-knit and well-paid International Longshoremen's Association, the largest union of maritime workers in North America.
But in 1993, Jenkins turned his childhood joy of playing with wood into his own business, called Mark Jenkins Woodworking, based in West L.A.
"I had no intention of ever being a city employee," Jenkins said.
Years ago, however, a welding teacher who worked for the Department of Water and Power by day and taught welding by night at the Pacific Maritime Association at Long Beach City College suggested that Jenkins apply for a cabinetmaker job opening with the city.
Jenkins took the civil service test in 1998 and passed. He interviewed for the job and was hired in July 2000. He now earns $65,000 a year in his full-time job with the LAPD.
And in his nearly eight years with the force, he has repaired 60 doors of all shapes and sizes in just about every neighborhood of the city.
"These people ... actually seem quite surprised to see the city's making an effort to right a wrong," Jenkins said. "It's gratifying to make people happy."
Quite often, Jenkins said, wrong doors can get busted down in the early morning hours as armed officers clad in riot gear conduct raids.
That's what happened to Phillips on Feb.19 when a team of officers busted through her door in Venice searching for her grandson - whom Phillips had kicked out two years ago.
Cops said they did their homework. The search warrant for the house culminated weeks of trying to cut rampant drug dealing in the increasingly gentrified neighborhood, said Detective Roger Gilbert, a narcotics investigator who oversaw the operation that morning to target members and associates of the Venice Shoreline Crips.
The man they were after was Phillips' grandson, Tom Dorand Young Jr., who Gilbert said was an associate who recently had been seen dealing crack in Venice.
"He keeps giving her address as his address of record," Gilbert said. "Everything that we had led us to believe that is where he is residing."
Gilbert sympathized with Phillips, who he said was an unwitting victim of her grandson's alleged gang activity.
"Here's a poor lady, she has a relative who is involving her in a criminal enterprise," Gilbert said. "He's bringing everything back to her door.
"So when we went in there and found out that she's being used, being abused, by family members, I think that the department should go out of its way to help her."
The day after police raided Phillips' home, Jenkins installed a steel stake as a temporary fix to secure her door while he ordered a $750, city-paid-for, custom-made solid Douglas fir replacement.
On Feb. 21, Jenkins repaired Phillips' door jamb, then returned the next day to fix the drywall and casing and lay down a coat of paint.
Earlier this month, Jenkins received the new door and went back out to Phillips' home to hang it and make sure it fit correctly.
He then took the door back to his shop - on the second floor at Piper Tech, the downtown clearinghouse for the city's trades workers - to put down three coats of varnish, a process that took six days.
On Thursday, he and partner Raul Juarez installed the door.
And Phillips was pleased.
"That's a good thing because I'm quite sure so many people went through what I been through, innocent and don't know which way to turn," the 75-year-old Phillips said.
Now, Jenkins is working in his 5,000-square-foot woodshop - complete with a table saw, jointer and planer - on dozens of shadow boxes to hold Medals of Valor.
He has to complete 25 of the walnut, metal and glass boxes that are used to ensconce the medals, which are one of the highest awards a police officer can receive.
Each box will take Jenkins eight to 10 hours to complete because of the intricacies of painstakingly shaping rough-cut lumber.
The boxes are then stained and varnished, tempered glass is inserted, and the interiors are wrapped with blue felt.
"It takes some time," Jenkins said. "The ceremony is May 27. It might sound like a ways away, but I'd like to get a jump on it ...
"Because you never know when a wrong door is going to pop up."