Gary Gaskell’s roots in law enforcement date back about 35 years, when his father, a deputy sheriff in Iowa at the time, would take his teenage son on his nightly rounds.
This was their father-son routine. They lived in a folksy town, their beat more routine than anything else, but certainly necessary.
Together, they checked on schools and local stores, making sure doors were locked and prowlers weren’t inside. One particular night, the elder Gaskell spiced things up with a little humor. He told his son to check on the neighborhood school.
“We’d check for damage or open doors,” said Gaskell, named to replace retiring chief Dwayne Gilman earlier this month. “It’s dusk and I’m approaching the glass door to the school and he hits the spotlight. It reflected me in the window and I think there’s another person. It scared me.”
He said he turned quickly, searching for comfort from the deputy sheriff.
“He’s sitting in the car,” Gaskell said. “He’s laughing.”
Gaskell, 52, has other comical stories to share, about growing up in Small Town America and learning from – and laughing with – his father. That should come in handy, now that Gilman has retired after 30 years on the Pembroke force, the last 10 as chief.
Gilman posted his farewell speech on Facebook. It read, in part: “I leave here with a lot of memories as well as additional friendships that I didn’t have 30 years ago. Pembroke is in great hands with Lt. Gary Gaskell at the helm with a great staff supporting him. Be safe.”
Near his final day, Gilman spoke with most of his staff personally, one on one. That’s what he preferred. He didn’t attend the ceremony – the official announcement about Gaskell – in the department’s parking lot, with colleagues, town and school officials, and family watching.
Gilman had already left on vacation, far from the spotlight and bittersweet emotions. Mary Ann Ricciotti, the police department’s administrative assistant, explained that the outgoing chief is a sentimental man.
“It’s not that he did not feel comfortable here,” Ricciotti said. “It’s that he’s a very emotional man and he’s guided us. I’ve worked for him for 29 years. Gary will be my fifth chief.”
Asked if Gilman choked up during their personal meeting, Ricciotti stayed quiet. She stood in the police conference room, there to show the department’s informal Wall of Fame, with photos of the department’s chiefs dating back to 1933.
Ricciotti left the conference room to retrieve the framed portrait of Gilman, the latest image to hang on the wall.
“Let me get his photo,” Ricciotto said. “It’s beautiful.”
Karen Yeaton, chairwoman of the budget committee and a member of the Pembroke select board, described Gilman this way: “He’s a very humble man, no fuss. Does not like being the center of attention. They were staying very personal at the precinct.”
Meanwhile, back outside, the new chief posed for selfies and received applause after a voice from a speaker welcomed him into the town’s new era of leadership.
He and Gilman were close. Still are. They’ve been friends for 27 years.
“I worked with him for 25 years,” Gaskell said. “He was my training officer when I started. He was a patrolman when I started and I was a dispatcher in Bow before Pembroke and I actually worked with him.”
Pembroke officials said the town takes pride in the department and its chiefs. The wall tells you that.
“This precinct is very tight and always has been,” Yeaton said. “A lot of the chiefs were patrol officers here and went up through the ranks here. The way they managed the culture and this department, it’s very tight, very personal and very team-oriented.”
That’s Gaskell’s job now. To keep the chemistry and unselfishness alive behind closed doors. He’s had experience in law enforcement, even before he graduated high school.
That night 45 years ago, Gaskell walked into a jail cell at the Iowa precinct. His father, the deputy sheriff, had another trick up his sleeve that night.
“He locked me in a jail cell for 30 minutes,” he said. “That’s what happens when they want to scare you straight.”