Back in saddle
State Fair’s mounted patrol enjoys 50th anniversary even as it looks to an uncertain future
In the 32 years he’s served on the Wisconsin State Fair Police’s mounted patrol unit, Joe Volz has seen a lot.
There was the time Volz and his horse Montana chased a purse snatcher out of the fairgrounds, across Greenfield Avenue and into the alleyways – “he’d go through the backyards; I’d go through the backyards” – until the suspect finally surrendered.
Then there were the racially charged mob attacks in 2011.
Mostly, though, Volz and Montana, at 19 years the longest serving horse in the unit, have met many, many people. This year is no different.
“Can anyone get kicked by one of these things?” one woman asked, gingerly stroking Montana’s head.
“Yes, they can. I’ve seen it,” Volz affirmed. “People fly. They fly without wings.”
“You’ve got a nice job,” another woman gushed.
“Why is that?” quipped Volz. “I’ve got to brush him, I’ve got to feed him … for a bicycle, you just kick the foot stand down.”
The two women laughed. Volz smiled and handed them both information cards on him and Montana. He’d already handed out more cards than he could count in the five minutes he’d been parked by Rupena’s Foods.
This year is special: the 50th
anniversary of a mounted police patrol unit that’s come a long way from its modest founding in 1968. Some changes have been good: the mounted unit participated in the opening ceremony for the first time this year. Some changes have not been: the unit lost its eighth member, continuing a steady downward trend in membership.
But if there’s been one constant in most people’s memories of the State Fair, it’s the cops on horses.
“Even if we’re down in numbers, we’re stronger than ever,” said Sgt. Deborah Caravello.
“Big cities disbanding their mounted units just breaks my heart. That’s different, because they ride the streets much like Milwaukee, but it’s so … it’s like the end of an era. I would hate to see that happen here. It wouldn’t be the same. It just wouldn’t be the same.” Sgt. Deborah Caravello
Getting on a high horse
No matter how crowded State Fair’s streets get, horses are hard to miss. The densest crowds will disperse at the sight of a thousand-pound animal in their midst. That’s why the mounted unit leads the State Fair parade every day: they can do with five riders what the foot unit does with 20 officers.
But just like magnets, the same horses that repel people can also attract them. Horses are a “natural draw,” Caravello said, imminently more approachable, and more visible, than a police officer on foot.
“That’s why we’re there. We’re there as PR, to interface with the public and let them know the cops are OK, and we’re just like regular people,” said Caravello. “We just happen to be sitting on a thousand-pound four-legged critter.”
Everyone loves horses, and officers can piggyback off that likability.
“It’s the most photographed unit in the police department,” State Fair Police Chief James Bruno said with a smile.
The people who pet the horses are diverse, but their questions aren’t. Caravello can recite most of them by heart: How old is the horse? What kind? How tall? Does it like sugar cubes?
The most curious question is one of the most common: does it have a name?
“Do you have a dog without a name?” Caravello asked. “Of course not!”
Getting people’s attention is easy; paying attention to their every move is harder. Most people aren’t familiar with horses, so the officers have to advise them on how to properly pet one. For example: Don’t put your hands near the horse’s mouth. Also: Don’t park a stroller under a horse’s belly.
Despite the exhausting attention and repetitive questions, though, Caravello said she and her peers love their job. Her favorite moments are when she meets someone who has never before petted a horse. If they’re sitting in a wheelchair, she’ll bend down her horse so they can touch it. They’re always thrilled.
“Those are really special — to be able to offer that person the first time they touched a horse is pretty cool,” said Caravello.
No horsing around
For a unit that Caravello describes as “the coveted job of the fair park,” the mounted patrol is decidedly small. But as Bruno explained, that shouldn’t surprise — it’s probably one of the most specialized areas in law enforcement.
Riders have to know how to navigate horses through hundreds of thousands of people daily while keeping them from overheating over a 12-hour day topping 90 degrees. It’s a delicate procedure.
Accordingly, Caravello said, all riders must fulfill three essential criteria: have extensive training (the unit doesn’t offer it); own a horse that can tolerate the pandemonium of the fair; and possess police or reserve officer certification.
But if working the mounted unit is tough for the riders, it’s even tougher for the horses. The State Fair is a sustained assault of heavy heat, stifling crowds, booming music, and whatever else the fair can throw at them (usually Frisbees or water bottles).
New horses are, in Caravello’s words, “do-or-die: they either handle it or they don’t.” Any sign that commotion agitates a horse disqualifies it. Allhorses undergo a 16-hour crowd control training session, where foot officers substitute for actual visitors.
Rapport is important. Unlike the mounted patrols of Milwaukee and Madison, the State Fair’s horses are privately owned. They and their rider typically have a history – a bond formed over years of experience can’t be replaced by a couple of training sessions.
When Volz first met Montana in Missouri, he was looking specifically for a police horse. His list of ideal characteristics: doesn’t bite people, is easy-going, and “has a kind face.” Montana took one glance at him and poked his nose through the bars. That’s when Volz thought, “Yeah, I think this might be the horse.”
Nineteen years later, Volz struggles to imagine working the State Fair with a different one. As long as Montana is healthy, Volz will stay on the unit. After that, he’ll have a difficult decision to make.
“When you get a nice horse like this,” Volz said, “it’s hard to find another one.”
An uncertain future
The fair’s mounted patrol began life as a volunteer unit in 1968, assembled to stop trespassers vandalizing the park’s fences. In 1973, after years of success, the civilian unit was incorporated into the police department.
While professionalization resulted in a stronger unit, it also created one harder to staff. Higher standards means fewer admissions. If an interested rider doesn’t have the requisite training, the police department lacks the budget to provide it – and that’s if the rider is a certified officer in the first place. Much like Montana, veterans are hard to replace.
At its peak two decades ago, when Caravello first joined, the mounted patrol had anywhere between 18 and 20 riders. The numbers have steadily dwindled since, Caravello said, with the unit “losing the cream of the crop” over the past two years in particular. One especially hard-hitting loss: Lt. Greg Friberg, who retired in 2016 after serving for 42 years.
Still, Caravello has reason to be optimistic. The unit may have lost many veterans, but roughly half of its current members are fresh blood. Kyle Wallschlaeger has served four years, while Amanda Lepak, daughter of 28-year veteran Penny, and Nathan Anhalt are only in their second. Tristan Buddenhagen, newly graduated with a criminal justice degree, is in his first.
And they aren’t going anywhere. Lepak was “born on the back of a horse,” as she puts it. And Anhalt? “Just two years on, I fully intend on doing 20 years plus.”
Support from the top helps. Volz has been through multiple police chiefs in his time, and every single one stood by the unit, regardless of the expenses. Bruno is no different.
“It’s always been an icon unit. It’s part of the history of the fair,” said Bruno. “It’s fifty years.”
Caravello agreed. She dreads nothing more than seeing the fair’s mounted patrol going the same way as those of other urban centers.
“Big cities disbanding their mounted units just breaks my heart,” said Caravello. “That’s different, because they ride the streets much like Milwaukee, but it’s so … it’s like the end of an era. I would hate to see that happen here. It wouldn’t be the same. It just wouldn’t be the same.”