‘You never know whose life you changed or touched’
Pa. state police spokesperson retires after 32-year career
In his role as public information officer for the state police Troop L headquartered in Reading, Trooper David Beohm sometimes would get a request from a media organization for information about a major incident in another troop.
“Dave, I know this isn’t your area, but …” the request typically begins.
Beohm said he built relationships with local media representatives over his 12 years in the specialized role, but he strictly adhered to certain boundaries.
“I can’t help you,” Beohm said during an interview at the station on Kenhorst Boulevard, his workplace for 32 years. “I can tell you who to call or whatever. But that’s not my troop. I’m a big one to stay in my lane. I talk about what I know.”
Troop L includes the Reading and Hamburg stations in Berks County, the Frackville and Schuylkill Haven stations in Schuylkill County and the Jonestown station in Lebanon County.
Beohm, who retired from the Pennsylvania State Police on Friday, did once veer from his lane, sort of. His straight-from-the-heart response to a reporter’s question went viral — in a good way.
It occurred at a press conference the night of Dec. 7, 2022. Earlier that day, two volunteer firefighters were killed while battling a three-alarm house blaze in Schuylkill County.
Beohm along with West Penn Township Police Chief Jim Bonner delivered the initial briefing, providing minimal information on the events that unfolded along with the names of the New Tripoli Fire Company firefighters who perished.
For about eight minutes, Beohm and Bonner responded to questions shouted over the noise of idling firetruck engines. The conference was drawing to a close when a reporter asked the men about the teamwork among the agencies involved in an incident that was in its seventh hour.
Beohm said he could speak about the volunteer fire service, something he knows a little about because he served with a volunteer fire department for several years before becoming a trooper.
“It’s tragic, it’s absolutely tragic,” he said, “and our hearts go out to these volunteer firefighters, because, you know what, when their tones drop (on their pagers), they leave their house from doing whatever they were doing, and they come out here and they do this for free …
“To protect all of us, right, because most of this county and any place where y’all live and I live, we have volunteer firefighters, and they are never afraid to come out to his house fire — smoke, can’t see, flames everywhere. The things they do for us is immeasurable.”
Beohm went on to say how the firefighters who lost their lives rushed in from another county to assist their brethren in Schuylkill. The mutual aid response, he said, is “how it gets done.”
Message goes viral
Someone posted the video of his comments on a public Facebook page devoted to fires and accidents. His daughter alerted him that the video was viewed thousands of times. The comments and “likes” were pouring in.
Beohm couldn’t resist reading the comments, bracing himself for the typical pot shots from people who have simmering grievances with police. Instead, he found his words resonated far beyond the BerksSchuylkill-Lehigh area.
One commenter said she remembered Beohm helping her tremendously when she was a victim of domestic violence years earlier when he was still working in patrol.
“I wasn’t looking for that, but it was like, ‘Wow, this is unexpected,’” Beohm said.
He added, “What I find interesting about being a cop is you never know whose life you changed or touched.”
Among those who applauded him were volunteer firefighters and their families.
A change in plans
Before he even thought about being a trooper, Beohm was interested in pursuing a career as a firefighter. After graduating from Wilson High School in Northampton County, he volunteered with his local fire company for several years.
In addition to going out to fires during the week with the Wilson Borough Fire Department, young Beohm worked weekends as a paid driver. Even back then, some volunteer fire companies used a hybrid system, employing limited staff to ensure an engine would roll out as soon as
the call came in.
During the week, Beohm worked as a carpenter before enrolling in Penn College of Technology in Williamsport in the late 1980s.
While attending the trade and technology school, he put in applications with fire departments that employed career firefighters (full-time with pay and benefits).
One day he came upon troopers recruiting students to take the entry exam for the oldest state police agency in the United States.
Beohm never considered being a cop, but on a whim he filled out the application.
He took the exam at Williamsport High School in 1991, one of more than 15,000 people to sit for the exam at various sites. State police get only a fraction of that number of applications today, he said.
After graduating from college that year, he went to work for a builder. While on the job one day, his boss told him that he needed to call a trooper at the Belfast barracks in Northampton County.
The trooper invited him for an interview as part of the screening process that included contacting multiple character references.
Beohm continued with the process, all the while unsure if he really wanted to be a trooper.
One day he received a small card in the mail congratulating him on being accepted to the 86th Pennsylvania State Police Academy. It prompted him to check one of two boxes.
“Like the country music song, ‘Check yes or no,’” Beohm said.
He checked yes. Beohm’s plan was to complete the academy. He thought it would look good on job applications, if nothing else.
“At the time, I had taken the Wilson Borough Fire Department fireman test prior to this and I didn’t do well enough,” he explained. “So then somewhere along the line, Easton Fire Department gave their test. I took their test and I don’t know where I was on their list.”
An offer of employment by a fire department was the only thing that would cause him to stop his state police career before it even started.
“I remember telling my mom,” he said, “‘If the Easton Fire Department calls and says they want me, I’m leaving.’”
That didn’t happen, and Beohm graduated from the academy in July 1992. He began his career in patrol out of the Reading station and relocated to the Denver area in northern Lancaster County.
Above and beyond
For about 10 years after he joined the state police, Beohm served the fire company near his home as a volunteer firefighter. Because of his experience in the fire service, he absorbed firefighter lingo and felt at home at a fire scene and was willing to lend a hand any way he could.
“If the fire guys saw a state police car at a fire, it was probably me because I would show up there because I have a little knowledge,” Beohm said. “You don’t even have to tell me what you need to do.”
He once drove an ambulance to the Reading Hospital emergency room from the Pricetown area so both medics on board could continue with lifesaving treatment of a shooting victim. He offered to drive the ambulance, leaving his patrol car at the scene (two other troopers had arrived) of what was eventually ruled a suicide.
His friendly relationship with the firefighting community was on display when he flipped his patrol car onto its side while chasing a suspect on Forgedale Road in Rockland Township.
Firefighters from companies that weren’t dispatched to the crash responded because they heard Beohm’s voice on emergency airwaves.
“I felt as if the whole eastern half of the county responded,” he said, adding that the initial dispatch indicated he was trapped in the vehicle.
Beohm would spend 19 years in patrol.
He first put in a bid for the Troop L public information officer when Raymond Albert, the longtime PIO, was about to retire. He gravitated naturally toward the role.
“I thought it would be interesting and fun, and I’ve always kind of been like a news junkie,” he said.
Someone else got the job, but when that trooper retired, Beohm became the public information officer.
A surprising role
It’s remarkable that Beohm has served as the mouthpiece for his troopers. As a young man public speaking mortified him.
In high school, he had difficulty with studying. (“I think I have ADHD on hyper steroids, as diagnosed by me and my wife,” he says).
But he has enjoyed the challenge of providing accurate, timely information to the news media — an intermediary role that some of his colleagues prefer to avoid.
“In the beginning, it’s a little daunting,” he said, “especially if you’re doing a press conference and, you know, I come in here and the room is packed and I have to talk in front of that many people.
“It’s like, ‘Oh boy.’ But it’s like with any job that you have — the more you do it, the more comfortable you feel about doing it.”
Beohm, 57, could remain in the state police for a few years before reaching the mandatory retirement age of 60.
But he feels it’s time to do something else for a living — a job that doesn’t involve carrying a gun and putting on a ballistic vest under his uniform shirt.
He pointed out that even though he’s in a specialized role, he’s still a trooper. That means he could be called upon to cover the perimeter after a prison escape, such as the one in Chester County last year; or be sent with riot gear to Philadelphia or other cities to help local authorities during civil unrest such as the rioting after the George Floyd killing by Minneapolis police.
“I’ll do it because that’s still part of my job,” he said “But do I want to do it? That’s a young man’s game.”
Beohm has seen a lot of people come and go among the uniformed and civilian personnel at the Reading barracks. Over his 19 years in patrol he made a lot of connections simply by stopping at places to have a cup of coffee and say hello.
Few troopers get to spend their entire career at one station.
“I’ve made friends out there, so, yeah, it’ll be sad to walk away,” Beohm said. “I mean, I’ve been coming here for 32 years.
“The same place.”