Chief Lucchesi reflects on years of service in New Paltz

After 31 years in New Paltz’s police department, Rob Lucchesi retired on May 31, capping that long career with four years behind the chief’s desk. With a clear focus on planning for a smooth transition, Lucchesi cleared out of that office soon after it was confirmed that Matt Sutton would be the next to take the top spot. “They’re running the day-to-day,” Lucchesi said about Sutton and the newly-minted lieutenant, Carmine Fuoco. “I’m a resource.” The comments were made during a relaxed interview at the Gunks Gaming Cafe, during which the outgoing chief reflected on a commitment that’s spanned four decades and straddled two centuries. 

Robert Lucchesi has lived in New Paltz since 1977, and recently relocated inside the village line. “I love being able to walk everywhere,” said the retiring chief, whose hours behind the wheel of a police cruiser are enough to boggle the mind. “Your car was your office . . . the job was never the same.” It was Chief Dennis Zappone who hired Lucchesi, who spent many years as the youngest officer on the force. It was a career that could have been cut short: an ill-fated motorcycle ride led to a broken arm just six months later, but with Zappone’s support Lucchesi returned to duty after the healing was complete. That was the last motorcycle ride the future chief ever took — but Lucchesi was a trained bicycle patrol officer, and was never injured in that capacity. 

Maybe it was because the passion to be a police officer had taken over Lucchesi’s brain in college, that the young officer came back at all. Maybe it was riding along with a veteran officer before starting in the police academy, or maybe it was the camaraderie with the others in the department that was felt nearly immediately. It’s not every job where coworkers agree to go skydiving together on their day off, after all. Whatever it was, it became a career. “The department is my home. I’ll never have another career, but I may have a job.” 

Policing in the ’90s involved hand-writing reports, or perhaps using one of the typewriters in the old Plattekill Avenue headquarters. Lucchesi well remembers how cramped that space was: “If we needed to interview a suspect, the dispatcher had to close the door in order to hear.” While police officers have long  carried a lot of gear, when Lucchesi started this included “a briefcase full of forms, ticket books, paper and pens.” 

Technology has had a big impact on policing. Reports are completed using computers in the police cruisers, which allows for tickets to be printed legibly and ensures that all the paperwork — including footage from car and body cameras — gets uploaded to secure servers. Gone, too, is the messy process of taking fingerprints with an ink pad and paper. “We got a grant for a digital fingerprinting machine in 2010,” Lucchesi recalled. One of the biggest barriers to adopting technology in a small-town police department is the cost; writing grant applications is one of the ways the top cop secures funding for these advancements. “Technology plays a large part, and it has a cost.” Body cameras are one of those costs now, and Lucchesi expects that the amount of money it takes to use and maintain those will continue to rise. It’s only the newest generation that make it possible to transfer the footage without tedious, manual cataloguing to comply with laws around discovery, the legal process of sharing evidence among attorneys in a criminal case. 

Another change that Lucchesi has seen is the increasing diversity with the town’s police force. Hired at a time when most police officers were white and male, the Lucchesi is exiting a department that includes a wide assortment and racial, ethnic, and gender identities. It’s a transition that has been thoughtfully fostered even has the officers Lucchesi once trained as a sergeant and lieutenant have grown into leadership positions of their own. “I’m happy—the department is in good hands.” 

Lucchesi’s advice to the newer leaders and the young officers is simple: “I hope they emulate the good, and learn from their mistakes.” That’s advice Lucchesi has tried to follow, by using reflection as a means to grow. “You look back with a critical eye and ask, ‘Could I have done better?'” As a leader, Lucchesi has tried to pass on the wisdom of experience. “Don’t make the same mistakes I did.” 

For Matthew Sutton, Lucchesi’ successor, there was something more specific. “I told Matt to pace himself. I only did things full speed.” A chief will get advice from many different people, but the decisions are the chief’s alone to make. “You’re the face of the department, and it can be hard to bear the weight of responsibility.” 

Being a member of this particular local police department has also brought with it camaraderie for Lucchesi, who recalls mentors fondly and has striven to be a mentor to many others. It’s a tight-knit group, one with many of its members who have deep ties to New Paltz by virtue of growing up in the community. Lucchesi’s pride in how officers responded to the changes that came out of the reform and reinvention process is perhaps not unrelated. 

Governor Cuomo ordered a period of introspection and reevaluation within all local police departments in 2020, following a period of heightened awareness about systemic racism and how deadly it can become in the context of policing. The state police were not included, without explanation. Having become chief only months earlier, Lucchesi worked closely with both the volunteers who conducted the review, and the officers themselves. “They were all in,” Lucchesi said about those officers, who embraced change that was coming at a time when trust in police generally had plummeted. Those changes included handing out of business cards during encounters, and tracking details including apparent race and gender of individuals involved in traffic stops. “They understood the importance,” and earned the chief’s pride. 

The pandemic, which triggered the need to address longstanding racial tensions around policing, came on the heels of a crisis in New Paltz triggered by an oil leak getting into the municipal water supply. The new chief was managing multiple crises from day one, ranging from protests for and against an officer who posted a controversial rap video to figuring out how to safely interact with members of the public in a time before there was a Covid vaccine. Still, time was given to implement other recommendations, such as resuming public conversations with the chief and producing an annual report to let members of the public know what police protection looks like and costs. “Many people don’t know what we’re doing. . . . It goes back to the men and women in the agency,” Lucchesi said. “They’re doing it well.” 

One of the decisions coming out of that process was to reestablish a police commission made of town residents. Lucchesi has seen this and other models of police oversight, including town council members doubling as commissioners, and a single police commissioner doing the job. Lucchesi recognizes that trust in institutions generally is waning, and advocates for transparency when possible. The chief has always encouraged commissioners to review the evidence whenever allegations are brought up against any officer, and recalls that town council members followed that advice. “Watch the videos, ask questions and attend trainings” all are necessary to make informed decisions on police conduct, Lucchesi believes. Commissioners “are doing their job, and the people of New Paltz know this.” 

A reason Lucchesi gave for being in favor of such oversight is that anyone who does the job well will also become an advocate. “They understand both roles, accountability and advocacy.” During the reform process, “Never once did they say, ‘Why are we not;’ it was always, ‘Can we do this?’ I knew I could speak freely.” 

Rob Lucchesi will miss making a difference as a police officer, but already has plans to make a difference in other ways. These include sitting on the village’s zoning board of appeals, and also as a member of the village’s fire department. “I believe in service to the community in any way I can,” but Lucchesi also looks forward to “being more present for my family, less stress, and not being married to my phone. As chief, I was always evaluating. Now, I can unwind a bit.” 

Given time to reflect, Lucchesi acknowledged that police investigations will always be among the best memories. “I miss investigating. It’s putting the puzzle together, interviewing people to get some sense as to why.” 

Volunteering as a firefighter reminds Lucchesi of what it was like being a new police officer 31 years ago. The amount of information that’s part of the training is “like drinking out of a fire hose,” and the best way to take it all in is to “shut my mouth, and listen.” Coming from a place where many of the officers “only knew me as chief,” being able to approach this new adventure with a beginner’s mind stands out. 

Looking back can be harder than looking forward. There are many people who played an important part in Lucchesi’s career, including Joseph Snyder, David Dugatkin, Scott Butler and more than can be named. There are years of speaking to high school students learning about participation in government. There are the tight bonds made in the department and the wider community — a community that may be getting a new chief, but will not be losing the presence and contributions of Rob Lucchesi anytime soon.