Captain Richie Taylor is the NYPD’s highest-ranking officer who wears a yarmulke in uniform

Photos: Naftoli Goldgrab

W

e’re on Fifth Avenue between 56th and 57th Streets, standing in front of Trump Tower, where Captain Richie Taylor is about to do a security check.

Suddenly the radio crackles. “10-30 at Capital One, Broadway and 39th.”  That means a bank robbery in progress.

Captain Taylor jumps in his car, and takes off down Fifth with an earsplitting screech. The speedometer rises as his unmarked car — a black Ford Police Interceptor, made special for the NYPD with a faster engine, extra power supply, radio access to all police and fire personnel in the city, a radio to issue commands to the street, and 20 red, white, and blue flashing lights  — comes to life: lights flashing, siren blaring, Rumbler (a low-frequency siren that projects vibration onto the street) activated. Through the window of this runaway projectile, Richie Taylor appears laser-focused and calm.

On his way to the crime scene, he calls the captain of the precinct where the bank is located for an up-to-the-minute update: Turns out, the robber is on the loose.

“Central, I need the Major Case Squad and precinct detectives to respond to the scene. I need the perp’s description put out to all units on patrol, citywide,” he instructs the radio dispatcher.

“Male Hispanic, facial hair, brown cap, tan coat, black shoes,” the dispatcher repeats on a continuous loop.

I pull up to the bank in my Uber a short while later to find the bank doors locked, a “temporarily closed” sign affixed to the door, but with some effort I’m able to catch a Richie sighting through the window. Like straight out of a movie, a man with rubber gloves and a metal tool kit enters the bank.

Richie emerges 40 minutes later with a picture of the perp, obtained through the bank’s cameras. As a high-ranking executive, his role isn’t to run the investigation but rather to ensure that it’s properly launched: Crime-scene precautions put in place, the robber’s picture sent out stat to all cops on patrol, all protocols being followed.

“Bank robbers generally get away from the scene, but are almost always caught within a few weeks,” Richie says. “Running the picture through facial recognition often allows us to identify him within minutes. Many times it’s a repeat offender, and we already know where he hangs out, so we do a stakeout and reel him in. Even with a first-time bank robber, any prior incident with the police — from a speeding ticket to having filed a police report — often gives us the information we need to nab him.”

Ready for the Unexpected

Captain Richie Taylor, 37, is the commanding officer of Manhattan South Investigations and the NYPD’s highest-ranking officer who wears a yarmulke in uniform (boosting his six-foot-three frame to even greater heights). “I’m a person who’s comfortable with myself, and always felt I fit in with the guys, even though I visibly stand out as a frum Jew,” he says.

Although the New York Police Department is a mega-force of over 38,000 — bigger than the three next largest police departments in the country combined — there are only about 300 captains among them. Richie made Captain at 34, a very young age for such a prestigious rank. In fact, he is one of the youngest captains in the history of the NYPD.

He’s responsible for overseeing confidential investigations and security matters from 60th Street down to the southern tip of Manhattan, including the Statue of Liberty. It’s a swath of territory where news is made every day.

“I love having a front row seat — as well as a backstage pass — to so many major world events,” he says.

When the president comes to New York City, Richie is assigned to the heliport when he lands, and is on the team responsible for the president’s security for the duration of his stay. Security arrangements when he stays at Trump Tower involve complex logistics that take a tremendous amount of planning and coordination with the Secret Service. When his limo pulls up at Trump Tower, passionate protesters line the streets, and the team “needs to be prepared for the unexpected.” More than that, he won’t divulge.

If one president’s security detail is such an elaborate operation, imagine the juggernaut that takes place each September, when close to 200 world leaders converge on 1st Avenue and 42nd Street for the annual United Nations General Assembly session. Richie is part of the team responsible for the safety of each leader, family, and staff as they sleep/eat/travel/work/shop while in town. There’s the tension of being responsible for controlling the inevitable huge protests and civil disobedience, but it has its pay-offs: He’s gotten to meet a colorful assortment of world leaders.

“A few months back I took care of the security operation for a world leader when he was in New York. He glanced at my kippah and said, ‘Thanks a lot, G-d bless, stay safe. I really appreciate everything you do.’ ”

Richie’s day-to-day responsibilities are mostly executive, handling cases which are often sensitive. He helps determine the best game plan for each investigation, provides guidance to the team, and re-analyzes and adjusts the approach as feedback comes in. Even so, at every major event south of 60th Street — political protests, mayoral inaugurations, holiday parades, crime scenes, and everything else — Richie Taylor is there, protecting the backs of New Yorkers.

Under Covers

I’m driving down the Palisades Parkway toward Manhattan, slightly speeding and half-hoping to get pulled over, as I rehearse in my mind what I’d tell the cop with relish: Sorry, officer, but I’m on my way to see Captain Richie Taylor of the NYPD.

There is a press conference scheduled on the steps of City Hall — a NYC councilman will decry the state of the Metropolitan Transit Authority (primarily the subways) in the city. The police are expecting protesters, so we head south to maintain law and order. Every politician and police officer there seems to know Richie — most of them come over to say hello, and he greets each one with a warm hug or handshake and a broad smile. It’s clear he has a warm professional relationship with them.

The icy wind whips relentlessly at the half-masted flag in front of City Hall (in honor of a police officer recently killed), but in human terms it’s a calm, incident-free morning.

Next, Richie stops in at Bellevue Hospital, the oldest public hospital in the United States. Suspects sometimes fake illness or injury in order to get to the hospital, from where it is far easier to escape than from prison. There’s a perpetrator there under police guard, and Richie wants to conduct an unannounced inspection.

“I need to make sure the prisoner is secured with leg shackles, that the cop is alert to the prisoner and his surroundings, and that he has a clear visual on the prisoner,” he explains.

He peeks into the room and sees an immobile mound on the bed, properly secured; out in the hall sits an officer, alert and watchful. Richie documents the inspection.

We enter the precinct station house, but instead of the controlled chaos I’d imagined — large rooms crammed with desks, cops huddled together over urgent reports, phones abuzz, strong smell of coffee and donuts — we enter a small room where two cops are sitting at a desk, not much else going on. “The real work gets done on the street and in offices,” Richie explains.

All day long, Richie toggles nonstop between his work and personal phones, fielding calls for help. He takes a call from Mrs. Devorah Halberstam, who has become an anti-terrorism activist after the murder of her 16-year-old son Ari in a terrorist attack on the Brooklyn Bridge in 1994. Mrs. Halberstam is active in the department, and she speaks at the orientation for new police officers. “Many people who have been helped by the department stay connected with us,” he says. “I often speak with Mr. Nachman Kletzky [whose son was kidnapped and murdered in Brooklyn in 2011] on Erev Yom Tov.”

He Made it Happen

Richie Taylor grew up in Manhattan Beach, a cozy neighborhood on the southern tip of Brooklyn (or as he’d say, in the six-one precinct), where he attended the local public school. At about age ten, he befriended a few of the frum families in town and transferred to a Jewish day school. By age 12 he was completely shomer Shabbos, navigating home life amid his non-observant family.

For close to a decade, Richie joined my parents’ Shabbos table, and for close to a decade we’d hear him say, “I’m going to be a cop.” We just shrugged, but he made it happen. At 15 he became a Police Explorer, a volunteer position designed to teach kids about the inner workings of the police department. By 17 he was an auxiliary police officer — a volunteer officer assigned to a precinct, with full uniform and patrol duties. The same year, he trained to become an EMT, getting a waiver from New York State to take the test at an age earlier than allowed, and at 18 he joined Hatzolah.

“Ever since I can remember, I wanted to be a police officer — this is my calling. I’ve always loved helping people, being the one responsible to get the job done in the most compassionate way I can,” Richie says.

“On September 9, 2001, I was at the US Open at Arthur Ashe Stadium with Eli Rowe, a paramedic with Queens Hatzolah. There was a gap in the stadium walls, and Eli pointed out the Twin Towers to his young son, visible through the gap.

“Just two days later, I worked alongside Eli at Hatzolah’s command center several blocks north of what would soon become known as Ground Zero, washing debris out of firefighters’ eyes. It was surreal to hear a fire chief say in a daze, ‘I can’t get ahold of anyone from my company. I lost my entire firehouse.’ After the first tower came down I went to the site, struggling through the blackness and debris looking for people to help. I heard strange popping sounds I couldn’t identify, and realized later it was the sound of people who had jumped hitting the ground.” He was just a 19-year-old kid, but there was no other place in the world for him to be at that time.

“Seeing up close how police officers persevered through the most horrific crisis, working beyond exhaustion, really inspired me, and confirmed for me the path I wanted to take,” he says.

Richie endured the rigors of the Police Academy, graduating in the top one percent of his class. By 23 he had realized his dream.

Today he lives in Brooklyn with his wife Miri and their four daughters. He attributes his rapid rise through the ranks to his proactive approach. Case in point: As a police officer, he was assigned to the highway unit that addresses safety concerns on the road. At the time, the streets were full of illegal taxis, known as dollar vans, and the drivers would speed recklessly to compensate for the low fares ($2 a ride). Richie noticed the need for a crackdown, and pursued it until the situation was rectified.

His superiors took notice of his successes, and as he applied for posts that opened, he got them. As a sergeant for just over a year, Richie was assigned to work for the Chief of Community Affairs at One Police Plaza (NYPD headquarters), in a sub-unit of the Police Commissioner’s Office. This coveted posting would typically go to someone with more seniority on the force; this became another springboard for further advancement.

Although he’s now in an executive role, once a week Richie exchanges his tailored suit for his uniform and goes out on patrol. “It keeps me connected to the essence of my job, to keep the streets safe. Because that’s what it’s really all about.”

In the Line of Fire

While serving with the NYPD, Richie was assigned to patrol some of the most gang-drug-crime ridden corners of the city: East Harlem, Red Hook, Coney Island, and East Flatbush. The housing projects.

He says that the greater the danger facing him, the calmer he becomes — emotions shut down and logic takes over. “Maintaining calm control of a situation increases the chance of a positive resolution. If the cops under me sense a lack of control, the situation can rapidly turn south.”

Even as a captain, Richie is never far from the line of fire. In October 2017, a jihadist with allegiance to ISIS hurtled his truck down the bike path along the West Side Highway for about a mile, killing 8 and injuring 11. It was the deadliest terror attack in New York City since 9/11, in the shadow of the World Trade Center — and Richie Taylor was one of the first cops on the scene.

“The first thing I saw was bodies strewn on the bike path,” Richie remembers. “The truck was well ahead of me, so I had no idea yet what happened, or if the perpetrator was still a threat.” (He had, in fact, already been shot by the first cop on the scene.) Concerned about a secondary attack on the first responders, Richie immediately called for the bomb squad to sweep the entire area. Once the scene was secured, he was able to help the injured.

On the audio clip of the radio transmissions from the attack, one can hear Richie, the highest-ranking police officer on the scene, issuing commands in his deep, calm, and controlled voice, even as he believes his life might be in danger.

Back when he was a lieutenant, Richie was patrolling in his precinct at around 10:00 p.m. one night when a call came in: A man was pacing in front of the Sephardic shul in Manhattan Beach, Brooklyn, screaming “Allahu Akbar!”

First on the scene, he found a bald, threatening-looking Middle-Eastern man and a quick scan of his car revealed two large butcher knives. He cuffed and arrested the guy.  Oddly enough, a few months later, on patrol at 2:00 a.m., he spotted another man with a gun on the property of the same shul, whom he arrested as well; this arrest earned him the Cop of the Month award.

“When facing danger, I use my training and tactics to protect myself, but I deeply believe that the outcome is min haShamayim,” he says.

On a visit to a frum day camp, Richie showed the children his bullet-proof vest and said, “This will protect me if someone tries to shoot me.  But you know what really protects me?” He pulled out his tzitzis strings and held them high. “This is what really protects me.”

Miri shares that whenever people hear she’s married to an NYPD captain, the response is always the same: Aren’t you scared something will happen to him?

“I’m a natural worrier, and I realize that situations can end in tragedy. But I’ve come to internalize that everything that happens is orchestrated by Hashem, and over the years my bitachon has strengthened tremendously.

Straddling both worlds easily, he was uniquely suited to negotiate issues between the NYPD and the frum community while on the Brooklyn beat.

“One night, Flatbush Shomrim noticed a car suspiciously circling the neighborhood, and they began to follow it,” Richie recounts. “Without realizing it, they were trailing an unmarked police car looking for a burglar. Meanwhile the officer in that car found the unmarked Shomrim car following him suspicious, and called in for a car to follow that car, which brought out another Shomrim car… until there were about eight cars following each other. While the incident produced a good laugh, it became clear that some coordination was necessary.”

Richie arranged a de-confliction meeting, which resulted in excellent coordination and cooperation between the two organizations.

When halachic sh’eilos arise, Richie usually brings them to Brooklyn posek Rabbi Dovid Goldwasser; he will sometimes travel to Mesivta Tiferes Jerusalem (MTJ) on the Lower East Side to discuss issues with Rav Dovid Feinstein.

Living his Dream

Richie looks back on the early years, which were especially demanding. Because even in the dead of night the city needs protection, and rookie cops bear that brunt.

“I was married with a baby when I became a cop, and had the 6 p.m. to 2 a.m. shift. But we made it work.” He gives the credit to his wife, who he describes as “amazing” and “super-chilled.”

And in fact, there’s really no other way — police work and family time don’t easily coexist. Working overtime is a given, and legal holidays usually call for greater police presence, which means cops are often out of sync with their family’s time off. Luckily, Miri is along for the ride. “I recognized early on that this life is his passion, and I’ve come to embrace his dream alongside him.”

Reflecting on his career to date, while he now has a front-row seat to action, he says his most meaningful assignments have been “those where I’ve made the biggest difference.”

One of those instances came in 2013, when the city’s streets were fraught with tension and police distrust among the African American community due to the NYPD’s stop-and-frisk policy, which they claimed was being used unfairly against them. Against this backdrop, a 16-year-old black boy in Brooklyn pointed a gun at a police officer, who then shot the boy dead. Soon riots and looting took over the streets. Levelheaded and even-keeled, Richie was put on the team that mediated between community leaders and elected officials. With sensitivity and respect and a few days’ time, they achieved an understanding that allowed for peace to be restored.

In 2015, Richie was the Integrity Control Lieutenant in the 6-1 precinct (Brooklyn South), basically responsible for policing the police. He was closing a 17-year circle, which began with him on the bottommost rung of 6-1 as a Police Explorer, and ended with him close to the top. He introduced the administering of integrity tests to police officers on a frequent basis, and he covertly followed and observed police officers on various assignments and 911 calls, to ensure that all was being done with the highest levels of professionalism.

In a rare professional feat, Richie was simultaneously appointed Operations Coordinator of the precinct. In these two positions, each one considered a full-time job, he had the opportunity to optimize both the integrity and efficiency of the precinct, leaving a mark on his hometown precinct that endures until today.

“Accomplishments like these give me a great sense of fulfillment,” he says.

Working for what he considers to be the best police department in the world makes it all the more satisfying. “Today the NYPD is the most efficient it’s ever been due to the exceptional leadership of Commissioner James O’Neill.”

O’Neill, Richie explains, is the only police commissioner in recent memory who came to the position after being Chief of Department (the top cop in uniform).  He has also held practically every rank in the NYPD, so he’s in touch with the dynamics of, and between, all parts of the entire structure. As a former commanding officer, Richie says, O’Neill’s guidance to commanders is spot on — and he makes himself accessible to those who serve under him. He’s an extraordinarily present commissioner, attending not only every major event, but local community meetings as well.

Despite the seriousness of his job, there’s always room for lighter moments. “I was sitting in my car when a woman with a southern accent approached me holding a parking ticket,” he says. “‘Officer,  Aah got a ticket for bein’ in a no-standin’ zone, but I wasn’t standin’ here.’

“ ‘Is that your car?’ I say as I point to a car in the no-standing zone.

“ ‘It is,’ she drawled. ‘But as soon as Aah saw the sign, Aah got out of my car and ran. Aah wasn’t gonna get caught standin’ on that corner!’ ”

But there’s nothing as geshmak as connecting with fellow members of the Tribe. “I was on duty the night of December 25th last year, in full uniform and police hat — no outward sign that I was Jewish. I walked into a kosher Dunkin Donuts at 5 a.m., and saw two frum teenage boys. Wanting to make a kiddush Hashem, they came over to thank me for my nighttime service. I sure caught them off guard when I responded, ‘As it says in Pirkei Avos perek gimmel mishneh beis, if it weren’t for government, we’d swallow each other alive.’ The shocked look on their faces was more precious to me than my latte and muffin.”

PLAY IT SAFE

Captain Richie Taylor has spent close to two decades keeping New Yorkers protected. Here are some tips to help keep you, your shul, and school out of harm’s way:

• DO take the free crime-prevention survey offered by many police departments around the country, including the NYPD. Specially trained officers conduct a walk-through and make security recommendations, advising on type and placement of perimeter lighting, cameras, alarms, and other measures. “I strongly recommend every shul, school, and resident take advantage of this service,” Richie says.
• DO have your shul be in touch with its precinct officers. Keep them apprised of regular minyanim times, as well as atypical ones such as k’vasikin or late-night Maariv. “Invite your neighborhood cops to shul for kiddush once in a while,” Richie suggests. “The more in the loop they are, the better protection they can provide.”
• DO keep your windows and doors locked. Burglars prowl the neighborhood for unlocked windows and doors, the easiest way to break in, so taking the extra minute to lock up can keep you from becoming the next victim. “Leaving windows and doors unlocked is like having a seatbelt and not using it,” Richie says. Similarly, if you have an alarm, use it.
• DO secure your attached garage at all times as if it is part of the house — because it is. Consider it an entry point just like the front door.
• DO clearly write down your house address for babysitters, in case the police or fire department need to come. “There have been instances where sitters called Hatzolah for choking babies, but they were delayed because the babysitters were unsure of the address,” Richie says.
• DO have someone take in your mail when you’re away, even if it’s just for the weekend.
• DO take precautions when using ATM machines. ATM “skimming” is a scam where criminals attach a phony card-reading device over the real one; this captures the financial information on your card’s strip when you swipe it, which is then copied onto a blank card. Cameras record you entering your pin number. With the copied card and pin info, voil? — the criminal has your card in his hands. Always tug the card reader before using it to make sure it’s not an added piece, and look for signs of tape or glue. Cover your hand when entering your pin number.
• DO have a natural disaster plan for your family: Arrange a meeting point, and have a prepared bag with flashlights, water, canned food and a can opener, medications, and phone chargers.

• DON’T leave anything in your car that can be mistaken for something of value. “A friend’s car was broken into, and she had to pay hundreds of dollars to replace the glass, fix the mirror, and clean the car of glass shards — all because of a $5 pair of sunglasses the thief had his eye on,” Richie says. “An empty car is unlikely to be broken into.” In frum neighborhoods, be aware that Friday night is prime time for car break-ins, with the streets emptier than usual.
• DON’T assume your elderly neighbor is taken care of during times of extreme cold or heat — make that call or visit. If mail piles up in front of an elderly neighbor’s door, check in to make sure all is well.
• DON’T assume your children understand that stranger danger applies to anyone they don’t know, regardless of how frum they look or what language they speak. “Personalizing yarmulkes and knapsacks with initials, rather than full names, is a smart safety measure,” Richie suggests.
• DON’T believe the IRS is calling. If you owe money, they will let you know by mail, and never demand money or threaten arrest over the phone. “I know of frum people who have fallen for this scam and wired $1,000 to con artists,” Richie says.
• DON’T hesitate to call 911 or approach a police officer if you see anything suspicious or concerning. “It’s crucial for people to understand that public safety is a shared responsibility between civilians and the police department,” Richie stresses.

(Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 764)