Home

 

Randy Sutton's Bio
Exclusive Stories
Where to Purchase
Submit Your Story
Articles
Links
Contact Us

 

 

A cop's view of life and death on the streets of Las Vegas

Excerpted by Joe Schoenmann • Photo by Denise Truscello


The first time I heard of LT. Randy Sutton it was in late-February 1998, a little before 10 p.m. I was seeing what I could at the scene of a drive-by shooting in front of the Eureka casino on East Sahara Avenue, where a red Honda was parked, a baby seat was tipped on one side and a husband and wife were weeping. One of the cops told me Sutton had been driving by and saw the couple crying for help. Inside their car, he found their 1-month-old girl with most of her face torn off, the result of at least four gunshots fired into the car by some animals who then did a U-turn and sped away.

Sutton grabbed the girl, got into the front seat of a black-and-white and told the cop driving it to get to University Medical Center. On the way, Sutton pulled flesh from the girl's throat, gave her mouth-to-mouth, and she began to breathe.

Sutton tells his wrenching version in his second book, "A Cop's Life," a series of 19 stories encapsulating more than 20 years of police work, most of those years in Las Vegas. The book is being released this month by St. Martin's Press, which also published Sutton's "True Blue: Police Stories By Those Who Have Lived Them," in 2004. While "True Blue" was an unquestioned success—proceeds from the book went to the families of officers who died in the 9/11 terrorist attacks—the book, itself, wasn't about Sutton. It was a series of stories collected from officers throughout the United States. In "A Cop's Life," you get a longitudinal sense of the change that occurs in an officer's mind over time, after seeing the suicides, the drive-bys, the desperately beaten housewives. And you come away appreciating an officer like Sutton even more. Not because he's saved lives, but because even when faced with arguably some of the worst society has to offer, he struggles and mostly manages to maintain and demonstrate an empathy, an intrinsic humanity, for both the victims and the criminals who made them so.

- Joe Schoenmann