Up Till Now. The Autobiography

was. For whatever reason, they felt they could open up to me, that I would understand. Maybe they just wanted to make certain we got it right. But I’ve had several experienced police officers admit to me that on occasion they would see something going down and they would just get out of the way. They would drive off to avoid being involved, often because they didn’t want to go after people breaking certain laws with which they didn’t agree. One officer in particular told me about the dilemma he faced in breaking up drug deals. Was it worth risking his own life to save a drug dealer? They wanted me to truly appreciate the problems they faced every day on the streets.
    I saw it myself very late one Friday night as I was being driven home from a downtown L.A. location. We were about to turn when I looked out my window and saw two men and a cop facing off. All three of them were in a crouch, the cop’s hand near his gun. A cop and two bad guys, right out of a movie. Just frozen like that in my memory forever. The car turned the corner and I was out of there, never to discover what it was about or how it ended. But that scene so accurately described the job of a policeman for me.
    Only once did I get to touch the reality of the job. I was wearing a uniform—obviously for me it was a costume—and crossing the street when a jeep that was stopped at a light got slammed from behind.The jeep suffered no damage, while the car that hit it had a crumpled hood. Both drivers jumped out of their cars. I saw what was about to happen and at best we were going to have a California traffic jam. I don’t know what made me do it, but I decided to intervene. I...
    . . . Star Trek handkerchiefs, towels, address books, cameras, welcome mats, picnic items including paper plates and cups, telephone calling cards, handheld electronic games, stereo headphones, laser disks, sunglasses, school supplies, flight log books, certificates, medallions . . .
    . . . saw that the jeep had no damage so I forcefully told the driver, “There’s been no damage to you. Get back in your car and move along. Go ahead.” And he listened to me. I’m certain he didn’t recognize me. I told the other driver, “It was your fault. You got a little damage. Come on, move your car, you’re blocking traffic.” He, too, got back in his car and did as I ordered. And just for an instant I’d felt the power of the uniform. It was an oddly educational experience.
    Cops really liked me. It has always been fascinating to me how people assume an actor has the same philosophical beliefs as the character he or she is playing, and Hooker was no different. Many people assumed that in my private life I was the same reactionary person I portrayed. Throughout my career I’ve always tried to keep my philosophical and political beliefs to myself, partly because as a Canadian citizen I’ve felt like a guest in America and, being polite, I didn’t feel it was my place to advocate loudly for my own beliefs. But I don’t speak Esperanto, I’ve never conquered Mesopotamia, I’ve never beamed up, and I’m not Thomas Jefferson Hooker. That didn’t stop police officers from believing that I felt like many of them did. Which led to an unusual situation.
    A small group of cops visited the set one day and asked if I had ever heard of Bo Gritz. I hadn’t. Bo Gritz, it turned out, was widely known as a Vietnam veteran who believed the North Vietnamese continued to hold American POWs and had dedicated his life to finding them and rescuing them. He’d been there and come back.I read quite a bit about him and realized it was an amazing story. “I’d love to meet him,” I told these officers.
    About a week later I met Bo Gritz. The greatest American hero of the Vietnam War. He told me, “The only way I survived was to choose the path of death. Everybody else wanted to live. The people who wanted to live did things that got them killed. I said it doesn’t matter if I live or die, if this is where I die, this is where I die. I choose. I’m a warrior.”
    Wow. He told me an elaborate story about putting together a Delta Force raiding party, swimming across the Mekong River, and crawling undetected into Vietnam.
    Wow. Surveillance photographs had shown long shadows and short shadows in what was believed to be a prisoner-of-war camp. The short shadows would have been Asian—and the long shadows could have been American prisoners. He moved swiftly and with great daring through