The day started rainy and remained overcast. Albemarle police officer Larry Claytor was called to a car accident on a sharp curve—now wet too—near Bella Vista Farm on Free Union Road. An SUV had plowed downhill through a fence after its brakes failed, taking out a series of board panels. The car came to rest against a tree. It was not properly registered or insured. Claytor wrote two tickets and could probably have found reasons to write more. But he didn’t. The whole event, getting the road clean and the car hauled off, took nearly two hours.

“It’s all or nothing,” Clayor said to describe the pace of patrol duties. “And it looks like this will be an all day.” But in fact it was mainly a nothing day. If only every day were like it.

Leaving the wreck site, Claytor pulled off in the parking lot of Free Union Baptist Church near Wesley Chapel Road to check his computer and fill out paperwork.

Claytor had 10 minutes of paperwork to fill out about the accident. The four-page form involves drawing a diagram of how the accident happened. “This form used to be one page,” Claytor noted. “Then it went to four.” You didn’t get the impression it had been improved.

He has a stuffed monkey from AFLAC that he carries in his cruiser in case he works an accident in which a child is present. If you squeeze the monkey’s belly it will say “AFLAC.” “I haven’t had a need of it,” Claytor said, meaning that was a good thing.

His driver’s seat was surrounded by gear. Conditioned to the confined space, he used a clipboard to hold the form. Reports have computer codes to be filled in. The passenger-side visor was stuffed with forms and code keys. His touch-screen computer, a “Toughbook” Panasonic laptop, sat poised at his right hand. It has a maps feature and can track the location of the police car with GPS. He can pull up driver’s license checks and local warrants on it. Naturally, he doesn’t use the computer while driving.

A camera faced forward through the windshield, recording everything, including what the officer did. Radio equipment sat between the front seats, and a 1960s-style radar unit rested on the dashboard. Two pairs of handcuffs dangled from the handle of the spotlight. Some officers will keep them clipped to the back of their belt, but Claytor doesn’t do that because that way the cuffs will tear up the driver’s seat. The day wasn’t warm, but Claytor likes to have cool air blowing steady in the car. The equipment gives off heat.

He called the farm manager at Belle Vista to tell him that four to six panels of his fence was down. It appeared that there were no livestock pastured in the field. He passed along the report number. The driver’s lack of insurance meant there wouldn’t be any money to repay the cost of the repairs.

Claytor was patrolling Sector 8, one of three western Albemarle sectors. It stretches from the Craig Store Road area in Batesville, west to the Skyline Drive and north to the Greene County line. Sector 7 is centered on Ivy, incorporates White Hall, Hunt Country Corner, and reaches south to the trash transfer station at old Ivy landfill site. Sector 6 covers Rt. 29 south from the Charlottesville line through North Garden and Covesville to the Nelson County line. His police car, a Ford “police interceptor,” has about 115,000 miles on it. When he worked for Sheriff Bailey, their cars were replaced after 60,000 miles, Claytor recalled.

“I prefer the west side [of the county] because I know nearly everybody and because we don’t have the traffic congestion. Things aren’t hectic in Crozet. But Crozet is growing, more people, and it’s getting busier. Crozet used to be laid back. Sector 7 is the most laid back now. There are no large concentrations of people. Another reason I like Crozet is that most everybody respects the police and is friendly and cooperative. Crozet is the most user-friendly [sector].”

One of his gripes was that he had to drive through a different sector to get to a call in his own. He thinks the sectors need to be redrawn and that more headquarters-based officers should be out on patrol.

“Minor thefts are majority of reports [in sector 8],” Claytor said. “That and alarms. Most of those, by far, are false. Very seldom are they not false.”

Claytor wrapped up a 35-year career at the end of June. He started as a dispatcher with the U.Va. police in 1974. In May 1976 he was hired by Albemarle Sheriff George Bailey. Sheriff Bailey said he was looking for somebody from Greenwood.

“I kind of fell into it,” was Claytor’s view. He went to Virginia Tech to study architecture and in his second year decided he didn’t want to sit at a drafting table any more. He wanted to be a game warden. “A friend at church told him about the dispatcher’s job. Later a police officer’s job came open, but he was not 21 yet. He was by the time he graduated from the police academy. “I could carry a gun, but I couldn’t buy bullets for it,” he remembered with a laugh. Afterward, he got his B.S. degree in organizational management from Bluefield College. Ultimately he reached master police officer status. That’s what the diamond patch on his sleeve stands for.

“It was more laid back then. Our policies were just a few memos from the sheriff. I was primarily a road deputy on Rt. 29 north. My first day out I was working an accident by myself. They just threw you to the wolves, sink or swim. I’ve been here ever since (though one year was spent with the Charlottesville police).”

“I went to the forensics academy [in Richmond] and got started in evidence collection and then did detective work. I came back and then was teaching at the forensics academy. Twice I’ve been president of its alumni association.” Claytor was an early advocate for the use of DNA evidence. He was also on the county’s police dive team.

For the last 15 years Claytor has worked only day shifts. In the early 1990s he returned to the patrol division, preferring to get out of the main office. “I love patrol and I still get to do forensics. I was primary on the Cling Lane and Southwood Market murders.”

Claytor made a pit stop at the Crozet firehouse. He’d had one cup of coffee and was thinking he might go for another. The plan was to head over to Henley Middle School to eat lunch, before the students were released to the cafeteria, with officer John Gephardt, a usual lunch buddy. The county stations officers in all its middle schools now after a series of bomb scares at Henley a few years ago.

As he drove, he mentioned who lives in various houses along the roads. He often stops near county schools, such as Crozet Elementary, so he can pick up wireless Internet signal and download his email. At the old Crozet school, he pulled in to check on other reports being posted. There was a false alarm in Keswick and a shoplifting at a Food Lion, a simple assault on the west side of the county. There was a report of sexually inappropriate behavior involving a juvenile. Claytor would not say where, only “not on the west side.” He stopped to check the noon news headlines on the Channel 19 and Channel 29 websites. Each had different stories posted.

Henley custodians J.R. Breeden and Ronnie Dodson joined Claytor and Gephardt at the lunch table. Claytor and Gephardt congratulated themselves on amounting to 70 years of law enforcement experience. They are both in court at least twice a month to testify in cases. With his retirement day nearing he was trying to avoid setting new court dates.

He was finishing up his second consecutive year as Crozet Lions Club president (terms are usually just one year) as well as serving as the president of the Charlottesville/Albemarle Rescue Squad and on the board of Camp Albemarle, a 4-H camp on the Moormans River south of Free Union.

“I juggle things. It all works. But I’m ready for a break. That’s why I’m retiring.” Claytor is 55.

After lunch—Claytor cleared out just as students poured into the cafeteria—he was back on the road, headed for Afton. “Usually I make a daily run to the bottom of the mountain and a couple of passes through Crozet.”

There is not a particular bad spot for accidents on western Albemarle’s roads, he said, but Rt. 151 has had more than its share. “My personal pet peeve is people passing in the turn lane in front of Blue Ridge Builders Supply,” Claytor said.

He hesitated to talk about his ideas for what might happen after retirement. There are a handful of jobs coming open for officers possessing a special list of forensics certifications. Claytor is one of only seven officers in Virginia with the complete list. The job would involve giving forensics training to army troops going overseas who may need to collect evidence from roadside bomb explosions that could reveal the origins of the bombs. He’s keeping his fingers crossed.

Claytor dropped in at Brownsville Market to do a little sheriff Andy-style patrolling. He hung out about three steps from the checkout register. He knew everybody who came in and at least a couple of jovial sentences were exchanged with each. Ron Washington stopped in. He had won a big lottery prize in Waynesboro a few years ago and had come in to buy a ticket. Claytor volunteered some pleasantries and the two caught up a bit.

Claytor knew Slade Woodson was likely behind the Interstate 64 shootings when he heard that the Patterson Mill Road VDOT yard had been the scene of some shots. “Slade had burned a couple of cars there, and the minute I heard that I said, ‘We need to be looking for Slade Woodson.”

After a while it was time to show the flag again before his shift ended. A large truck was having trouble getting a shot back onto the highway. So Claytor turned on his cruiser’s lights to stop traffic and motioned the truck out. Then it was on down the road looking out at what was going on. Claytor was doing police work in the time proven way. He made it a point to know people. He knew what’s normal and what’s not. He was fair, steady and trusted his common sense. It had been sort of dull a day after all. But all was well.