At the meeting, about a half-dozen officers who work in the program had come to defend DARE -- and their comfortable, low-risk jobs. They told warm, fuzzy stories about interaction with the children they teach. And they told the chief they are personally offended by the report, which they contended is obviously flawed.
Bradford disagreed, and he pointed out that other studies around the country have reached the same conclusion: DARE does not prevent drug abuse.
"I am not interested in challenging the study," said Bradford. "I want you to tell me where we go from here. Because the reports do not support that DARE has done the job. And if the citizens decide not to spend money on DARE, we have to yield to that."
The DARE officers didn't seem to hear him; during the hourlong discussion, they remained intent on discrediting the study. They were so overwrought, it's doubtful that any of them would have noticed if someone had lit a joint in the middle of the room.
Even so, the rank-and-file respect Bradford, and note that his willingness to listen to dissenting opinions stands in stark contrast to Nuchia's my-way-or-the-highway management.
In fact, says a longtime City Hall player, Bradford's openness was precisely one of the deciding factors in his selection as chief. Political consultant Dave Walden, formerly mayor Bob Lanier's co-chief of staff, says Lanier saw Bradford as a tough law-and-order guy, but also as a bit warmer than hard-nosed police chiefs like Nuchia and Harry Caldwell.
"You just feel real comfortable talking to him," says Walden, who seizes the opportunity to jab at an old political enemy. "If Bradford can get along with Lloyd Kelley, he can get along with anybody."
That includes his current boss, Mayor Lee Brown -- himself, of course, the former chief of the HPD. One councilmember, who asks not to be identified, observes that the pair have a complicated relationship: "Although most people say Bradford is Brown's guy, there were a lot of rumblings that Brown was going to replace him. I don't think that there is any question that it is difficult being chief under a former chief like Brown."
Bradford, of course, maintains that working for a former police chief presents no special problems, and that he and Brown have a good relationship. And instead of worrying about whether or not Brown plans to keep him around, Bradford must soon decide for himself if, in fact, he wants to stay.
Last December, Bradford began mapping out a new ten-year plan for himself. This is the first time that his wife, Dee, has been involved in the process. Bradford married her five years ago. She's his first wife. He notes that before, he'd been too busy with his career to start a family; a wife wasn't in his earlier five- and ten-year plans.
Next September, Bradford will mark his 20th anniversary with the Houston Police Department and will be eligible to retire with benefits. He has given himself until early next summer to reach a decision about his future with the department, and even about whether he'll stay in Houston. If he does retire, Bradford envisions possibly returning to his law practice or teaching at a university. He insists that, as of now, politics is not an option.
"I've heard people say that," he admits. "But right now, it's not something that interests me. If something happens later to motivate me, I'll deal with it at that time."
A seasoned politician could not be more ambiguous. Political observers insist that politics is Bradford's most likely next move, and speculate that he might be eyeing the mayor's office. Obviously, he would not be the first chief with mayoral aspirations.
About twice a year, Bradford volunteers for four hours of guard duty at the Houston Police Officers Memorial. Usually, Bradford takes a shift late at night or in the very early morning -- before commuters have begun to zip down Memorial Drive. There in the quiet, with the granite memorial rising next to the downtown skyline, he reflects on the officers who made the ultimate sacrifice.
"You sit there by yourself and think about the lives that were given," says Bradford. "There's just no other place in the police department or the city that brings about those types of thoughts: What have I done? Could I have done?"
And what's left for him to accomplish -- what's left to make his mother proud.
Send e-mail to Steve McVicker at steve_mcvicker@houstonpress.com.
