Wilson's Mills' first police force getting good grades

Troublemakers keeping low profile

WILSON'S MILLS -- The law is finally settling in to this crossroads town of 1,600.

For natives, it's taking a bit of getting used to.

A brand new police department, the town's first, is now watching when drivers only tap the brakes at a stop sign. Anybody plotting to snatch the till at one of the town's two markets come closing time will have to contend with Police Chief Steve Little. These days, it's far too risky to fly past the fire station and catch air on the railroad tracks.

"People got used to doing a little Dukes of Hazzard through here," said Jonathan Womack, a town native and volunteer firefighter. "Thirty-five miles per hour means something to folks now."

It has been six weeks since the five-member department started patrolling town full time. So far, it has handled about 200 calls, including a drag race, a drunken man driving a four-wheeler and at least one fight.

"This department was so overdue it wasn't even funny," Little said as he rolled his department's borrowed Crown Victoria cruiser to a stop by a little girl asking whether she could have a badge like his.

Hiring a set of cops was not an easy decision for the people of Wilson's Mills. The farming community has appeared on maps since 1868, but it wasn't until 1996 that leaders drew lines around its borders and declared it incorporated. Their motivation: keeping Clayton and Smithfield from nibbling at its edges through annexation.

In 2004, Johnston County Sheriff Steve Bizzell told the young town to stop relying on his deputies so much or he'd bill them. Even after this ultimatum, Wilson's Mills leaders were torn. They wanted to keep life simple. They also didn't want to burden residents with a higher tax bill to support the department's yearly $120,000 in expenses.

Nobody seems to be grumbling now. Property taxes have doubled, but most shrug at the expense.

Cornell Whitley is shelling out more than $300 extra a year in taxes but feels confident he's getting his money's worth.

"Last month, I just went in and introduced myself to the chief," Whitley said, as he watched an episode of "The Guiding Light" Wednesday afternoon at J.D.'s Country Store. "Everything looked real official."

Native Clifford Uzzle -- once the loudest opponent to hiring police -- is now a true believer. In fact, as police commissioner, he supervises the department of five.

"They're good for us," Uzzle said. "I forget to put on my seat belt. But when I see them, I do it real quick. My family appreciates that."

Wilson's Mills is guaranteed to have one cop rolling through town an average of 18.75 hours a day. Chief Little is mum on the hours when police are not around for fear of someone plotting a crime spree during the gaps.

Their presence is a real comfort to Amanda Norris, manager of Sunshine Tan and Gifts. In April, some middle schoolers broke into the store and took off with fistfuls of candy, a slew of toe rings, some pocketbooks and the whole cash register. Norris figures these kids wouldn't have pulled the stunt if police officers were in town.

Other residents, like 83-year-old native Emma Elle McCullers, refuse to rely on police to protect them. At McCullers' family homestead at the end of Durant Road, a sign warns potential burglars that all her possessions are inventoried, so police will know exactly what they steal. Aluminum foil taped across the windows in her door blocks a peeper's view.

McCullers said she won't wait for a cop to catch her burglar. At nighttime, she keeps the safety off of her pistol -- just in case there's trouble.

(News researcher Brooke Cain contributed to this report.)