For library's new security guard, see 327.2 - diplomacy

You'd expect a library cop to speak softly.

Mike Ward, who signed on 15 months ago as the downtown Santa Rosa library's inaugural security officer, certainly does.

But the bald-domed, nearly 6-foot-4 former football defensive end and bakery truck driver hasn't won over the central library's staff and patrons simply by perfecting his library voice.

The term "gentle giant" springs up often in descriptions of the 59-year-old guard, who glides unarmed about the library dressed in slacks and a white shirt, tie and blazer. His calm presence and respectful manner have curtailed the incidents of offensive behavior -- intoxication, sleeping, bathing in the restrooms, panhandling -- that prompted library commissioners to bring in private security in July 2007.

"He is a gentleman, and I think that sets a certain tone," said Sandy Cooper, director of the Sonoma County Library. "He deals well with patrons and quietly deals with problems . . . and in just a lovely way."

Cooper said that although library workers feel more confident with Ward there, he has not been able to solve all the issues related to a downtown library's function as a daytime haunt for people with no place better to go.

"We haven't solved every problem, but we are a community with declining services for mental health," she said.

While Ward's demeanor suits him for the task of discreetly enforcing standards of behavior at the library, his athleticism comes in handy, too. He long ago played football at University of the Pacific and because of a death in his family gave up a serious shot at playing for Navy.

"If something's happening," library chief Cooper said, "he moves faster than you'd think he could move."

Walt Fristoe is one of the homeless people who spend much of the day at the library. He praises Ward for his positive effect on human interactions among the stacks.

"I've never had a problem at all with Mike," said Fristoe, an avid reader who refers to himself as voluntarily and happily homeless.

Since Ward has been on the job, there are fewer cell phones chiming in the library and fewer people sleeping in the chairs, he said.

"He's always really courteous about waking people up" Fristoe said.

At the time the county library contracted with San Francisco-based D.N. Security to place an officer at the main branch, Ward was on patrol at Bodega Harbour. He cruised the bayside golf course, checked on unattended homes and answered complaints about loud vacation-house renters.

He was drawn to the more humanity-intensive challenge of becoming a peacemaker between homeless people who frequent the library and the staffers and fellow patrons who are sometimes frightened or offended by their behavior, appearance or odor.

"I'm not a typical guard," Ward said. While many private guards are retired police officers or ex-military, he said, "I have a sales background; I sell people on behaving."

A native of Pacifica and '67 graduate of the town's Terra Nova High, he came to Sonoma County in the early 1970s to finish a college run he'd begun at Stockton's University of the Pacific. He graduated from Sonoma State and in 1977 -- the same year he married Pat, a retail clerk at a Mollie Stone's store in Marin -- he went to work driving a bakery truck.

"When the first Thomas' English Muffins were delivered in Santa Rosa," he said rather proudly, "I was the guy."

Consolidations in the baking industry and a back injury ended Ward's career in bread sales. He hired on at D.N. Security three years ago.

The grandfather of five is convinced the library gig is the perfect job for him. He figures he's been successful in part because he likes people and it's his nature to treat everyone with respect, even a street person he may have to awaken or ask to quiet down or leave the library until he's sober.

"I really try very hard not to lecture these people. I try to be a good influence to them," he said.

Through his first 15 months, he's seen homeless people get married in the library and he's had former regulars come back to tell him they're doing well in recovery programs or have found help to get into a home.

Ron Young, a veteran of the streets, said from his roost at a table by a window that homeless people thought more than a year ago they might simply be ejected and barred from the library.

Their gratitude is one reason many have become more mindful of their conduct and the impact of their presence on other patrons. Young said there's another big reason that regulars are better at minding their manners these days: "They don't want to hurt Mike's feelings."