By Kim Hilsenbeck

Anyone living in the Kyle area has seen those distinctive green vehicles, driven by Pct. 2 deputy constables, headed by James Kohler. He’s held office for the past 28 years and has no plans to quit anytime soon.

What do constables do? More than local residents know.

The five men who comprise the Pct. 2 Constable’s office – Kohler and deputy constables Clemente Verastegui, James Blanton, Mitch Johnson and Mark Hannah – talked about what it’s like being on the line in the green vehicles.

Most agreed that when a constable’s deputy is on your doorstep, it’s probably not good news.

“A lot of people know that when a constable comes out [to their home], it’s either to serve them with something or to arrest them on a warrant,” Verastegui said. “So they’re never really happy to see us.”

These officers are just doing their jobs, serving legal paperwork for a variety of entities.

“We serve documents for JP court, county court of law, district court and out of state courts,” said Verastegui, including papers for divorse, child support and evictions.

On many occasions – regardless of the issue – the deputies get an earful.

“We just stand there and listen to them, because that’s part of it,” Hannah said.

Sometimes, people do more than just kvetch.

Johnson said, “I’ve had them cuss at me and give me a chewing because I’m doing my job. They say ‘I know you’re doing your blankety-blank, job, but could you find something else to do?’”

Or they say, “I’m not going to sign those papers,” Hannah said.

People may not realize that they generally don’t have to sign anything when being served.

“I had this one case three weeks ago. I knocked on the door ten minutes after six in the morning,” Hannah said. “I’m knocking on the door and I heard [a man inside] say, ‘What the hell is going on?’”

The man answered the door, saying, “‘What the hell are you doing waking me up this time of the morning?” Hannah said.

“I said, ‘I’m looking for such and such,’ and he said, ‘Well, yeah, she’s in here in the bed’,” Hannah said.

He continued the story, saying that the woman being served was inside the home with her husband who wanted a divorce. He just neglected to share that news with his wife.

“She’s in there in the bed. I walked through there. She said, ‘Turn that god-damned flashlight off.’ … She said, ‘I’m not signing no damned papers.’ I said, ‘You don’t have to sign them.’ She said ‘I’m not going to accept them.’ I said, ‘Ma’am, you’ve been served,’ and I turned and walked out.”

A deputy constable’s signature returned to the office is all that is required as proof the papers were served.

But, in more cases than they could all remember, they stick around to listen to the sob stories.

“You feel bad for them,” Hannah said. 

While constables deputies aren’t necessarily in the line of fire, their jobs are unpredictable. 

“We serve all type of papers,” Verastegui said, “from subpoenas to summons, to an eviction notice to a protective order, to writ of attachment where we have to take a child away to a writ of execution where we have to seize property to satisfy a judgment.” 

The office serves anywhere from 3,000 to 4,000 papers a year

In most cases, they do not know what kind of situation they may encounter.

“Our job is very dangerous,” Verastegui said. “We’ve all worked for sheriff’s departments before, a couple of us have worked for police departments before. When I got dispatched out [on calls], I pretty much knew what to expect…” 

“We don’t,” Blanton interjected.

“… what the situation is if weapons are involved, if the actor is there or if he’s gone,” Verastegui said.“It’s real dangerous”

“You’ve got no clue,” Hannah added.

Blanton reminded the group of how a constable, Brian Bachmann, was killed two years ago in College Station while serving an eviction notice.

“We do those on a real regular basis,” and while nothing has happened like that, he said, “that doesn’t mean it can’t.”

In one local case, a woman failed to vacate a property. Kohler and the deputy  constables showed up to evict her.

She kicked Kohler and tried to bite Johnson.

How did it start?

“She came outside,” he recalled. “She said, ‘Who are you, little fat man?’

The group, including Kohler, laughed.

She told him he couldn’t come inside. 

“I took her by the arm and said, ‘Take her to jail, boys.’” 

That woman was charged with resisting arrest and assault on a police officer. There is also a lot of cussing at constables.

“They’ll say, ‘You’re in my house. Get the hell out of my house,’” Hannah said. “But the house isn’t their’s anymore.”

“I ain’t the cause of their problem and I’m not going to be the relief for their problems,” Blanton said.

Only one deputy constable has had to pull a gun on someone in this position, though most have pulled guns on perpetrators while at other agencies.

The deputy constables are all licensed Texas peace officers.

“We’ve got just as much authority as anybody,” Hannah said. “Of course it’s not our primary function, but we do it.”

“It’s our duty to enforce these laws — that means any law in the state of Texas,” Blanton said.

To help protect his deputies and the public, Kohler’s office applied for and received a grant from the National Rifle Association to purchase 22 12-gauge shotguns. Those weapons were provided to all full-time Hays County constables at each precinct.

Why shotguns? Kohler said they are for close-up work, because rifles used by other law enforcement, such as a SWAT team, are “way too powerful.”

In addition, all of the constables in Hays County have taken an active shooter training course. With their experience, additional training and ability to be on scene quickly, they can be prepared to do whatever it takes to stop an active shooter.

Deputies also reminded the Hays Free Press that the guns were free.

“Those 12-gauge shotguns are at no expense to county taxpayers,” Blanton said.