"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 1-1/2 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- -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."