"Officer Bob" is sad to leave dream job

Kids greet Bob Oliver at local shopping centers with hugs and high-fives. Cheerleaders at high-school football games peel off their gloves and ask him to autograph the backs of their hands. Parents come up to him in restaurants and shake his hand.

He shows up at countless school carnivals and assemblies, football, soccer and basketball games. Each holiday season he goes undercover, wearing a Santa Claus costume to dozens of Christmas parties.

"Officer Bob," Bellevue's D.A.R.E. officer, is better known than any Eastside politician. A few years ago, his VW bug was the model for a Matchbox D.A.R.E. car, each inscribed with "Officer Bob" on the door.

But Officer Bob is about to lose what he describes as the best job in the world.

The Bellevue Police Department will eliminate the D.A.R.E. program at the end of this school year. Oliver, a 31-year veteran, will be reassigned as a middle-school resource officer.

"Bob has done a magnificent job," said Jim Montgomery, Bellevue chief of police. "But we struggle with a finite number of resources. We need to eliminate the D.A.R.E. program and shift Bob to the middle schools."

Doubts about impact

Similar scenarios are being played out across the country. D.A.R.E., an acronym for Drug Abuse Resistance Education, has been eliminated from school and police-department budgets.

Kirkland and Redmond dropped the program several years ago. Seattle and Renton switched to putting resource officers into middle and high schools. Mercer Island, Auburn and Issaquah still have D.A.R.E. officers.

When D.A.R.E. was developed by the Los Angeles Police Department in 1983, it was considered a mainstay in Nancy Reagan's "Just Say No to Drugs" campaign.

At the height of its popularity, an estimated 80 percent of the nation's schools had D.A.R.E. and, according to a 2001 New York Times story, it was taught in 54 other countries.

The program lost favor when national studies showed D.A.R.E. made no significant impact on students' drug use. The independent national program launched a new curriculum in 2001 that focuses on decision-making skills and resisting peer pressure, as well as information about drugs, alcohol and tobacco. Statistics on the new D.A.R.E. won't be available for several years.

After 16 years of teaching 1,200 students a year, Oliver believes in D.A.R.E. He recognizes that it is difficult to make an impact with something that totals 1-½ days in a child's school career.

"I have them for one hour a week for 10 weeks," Oliver said. "My impact can't be the same that their friends are. But I can give them the decision-making tools they need. If I leave them with one message, it's that good friends won't ask you to do bad things."

He believes the most important part of the program is connecting with the kids.

Montgomery agrees. "The public-relations aspect is amazing," Montgomery said. "Elementary-school students, fourth- and fifth-graders, are fascinated with police. But I have a core obligation to the community and, frankly, few cities can afford D.A.R.E."

He said the Bellevue School District pays Bellevue $87,000 to help defray costs of putting police officers in schools. But it costs $85,000 per officer, more than a half-million dollars to field the current six resource officers and one D.A.R.E. officer.

Unless there's a groundswell of community demand, the decision to end D.A.R.E. will stand, Montgomery said.

Awards and honors

Until three years ago, another officer, Tom Baker, shared D.A.R.E. duties. Baker was reassigned as a middle-school resource officer and Oliver spreads himself among all the elementary schools.

Parents and supporters of the program rallied several years ago when Oliver needed money for D.A.R.E. T-shirts. They formed an advisory board and foundation and annually raise money for awards and supplies. In addition to the public schools, Oliver goes to private schools and into Sunset Elementary in the Issaquah School District.

In 1999 he received a Best of Bellevue Award for the "unconditional caring and approachable presence that makes him an effective advocate" for children. Ann Oxrieder of the Bellevue School District served on the nominating committee that year.

"He had many, many letters from kids supporting his nomination, including those who had already graduated from high school," she said.

He was named the D.A.R.E. Officer of the Year for Washington in 1997 and has received several Golden Acorn Awards from local PTAs.

Persistence pays off

Oliver, 62, almost didn't make it as a police officer.

He grew up in what today would be called a dysfunctional family, one of nine siblings. He was told he was too short to play high-school football in his hometown in Massachusetts but persisted until he made the team his senior year.

He joined the Air Force and was stationed in Washington. For fun he played semi-pro football and earned a scholarship to Edmonds Community College. After graduating from the University of Washington, he worked at a hospital.

"I loved helping people but didn't think I had the brain power to handle science and chemistry and become a doctor," he said.

"What other profession could I do and help people? Law enforcement."

Again he was told his 5-foot, 7-¾-inch height was too short. Height restrictions changed with civil-rights legislation, and Oliver became a police officer.

He has been on the SWAT team, vice and narcotics, was a canine officer and is a hostage negotiator. Although he's called "Officer Bob," his correct title is "detective."

After chasing bad guys for years, he thinks he has found his niche working with children.

"I love what I do," Oliver said. "I've made lifelong friends with the kids and their parents."

Sherry Grindeland: 206-515-5633 or sgrindeland@seattletimes.com