East Aurora Advertiser

Former EAPD Officer Don Swyers Reflects on Turning 95



Seventy-seven years ago last June, retired East Aurora Police Department patrolman Don Swyers graduated from the high school on Main Street at age 17. Six weeks later, the Wales Center resident joined the U.S. Navy and shipped downstate for basic training.

A few months after that, at the ripe old age of 18, he found himself aboard the light cruiser USS Tucson, part of Admiral Bull Halsey’s fleet, escorting aircraft carriers through enemy waters and blockading the entrance to the Gulf of Japan as the Allies tried to bring an end to World War II. By mid-1946, he was back home and, unbeknownst to him at the time, was about to embark on a multi-faceted career with at least a dozen jobs in every category you can imagine, including a small-town peace officer, with a career that spanned 30 years, from 1956-86.

The USS Tucson is the ship Don Swyers, sixth row and in the middle, was on while he was in the military during World War II.

Don Swyers was born in the proud hamlet of Wales Hollow, near the MarMac Dairy on Route 78. He moved north to Wales Center as a youngster, close to his father’s place of employment, the renowned East Aurora Basket Co. on Route 20A where Johnson’s Nursery sits today. 

East Aurora Basket was a titan in its day, fashioning as many as 4,800 bushel and half-bushel baskets a day from steamed, woven and stapled strips of beech, elm and maple, and shipping them all over the East. The younger Swyers began his working career early, as a “pin sticker” (bowling pinsetter in the days before automatic machinery took over) at local alleys during high school.

After he returned from active duty, Swyers signed up immediately for the Institute-Bryant & Stratton, that is-and began courses in accounting with the help of the G.I. Bill. He first signed on with the trucking company M & G Convoy, working out of their office in Buffalo. A few years later, at Gentry Co., he managed field offices for the natural gas pipelines outfit in Pennsylvania, Maryland, Indiana, Ohio and Kentucky. While still with Gentry in their home office, he began working nights as a loader for American Airlines at Buffalo International Airport.  Along the way, he married the former Ellen “Sally” Hoth from Hamburg Street in East Aurora, built a house on Balcom Drive and had two children. Michael was born in 1951, and Kenneth in 1953.

It was while he was burning the candle on both ends that the idea to join the East Aurora police force was hatched. 

“Two buddies, police officers Smith and Smallback, would meet me on my way home,” said Swyers last week, when I dropped in to meet with him, son Mike and indispensable family friend Kathy Brown. “And one of them would drive my car because they were afraid I’d fall asleep. They got me interested in becoming a policeman. In 1956 I joined as a patrolman.”

Things were a little smaller in 1956. “We had six or seven officers at that time, rotating shifts, and we had to stick strictly to the village because the town had its own police department and its own officer, Ken Hartman. It got a little tiresome until they merged the two forces and we covered the whole town. Ray Pell was the chief then and there were a few others like Carl Waltz and Don Closs and Ray Smallback. George Scheidemantel, who donated the house where the Elbert Hubbard Museum is today, was one of the dispatchers—we had to wake him up now and again since there wasn’t too much going on sometimes. And Dave Closs, who owned the florist on the corner of Main and Olean, was the part-time guy.”

Don Swyers as seen in 1973 when he was a patrolman for East Aurora Police Department.

Back then, most everyone knew the officers in their hometown. 

“There was Carl Wohlheuter (‘Don’s sidekick,’ offers Kathy Brown, herself a native East Auroran who grew up on Pennsylvania Avenue), Vernon Frost, Bernie Nicholson, Bill Nye, George Czerminski, Jim Wilson, Bob Schrems.”

Swyers says he operated on the idea that everyone deserved a second chance. 

“I’d talk to them if I had to pull them over or caught them doing something they shouldn’t and tell them that this time they were going to get a break, but the next time, you don’t get a break. I don’t think that would work these days.” 

Even so, it made for some uncomfortable moments in town where everybody knew each other, agreed Swyers. (Full disclosure: As an “active” shall we say, young person during Swyer’s day, I was the beneficiary of the force’s “second chance” on at least one occasion.)

As for memorable moments on the beat, he had several. “I was down by Brooks Garage (corner of Willow and Main) one day and this guy comes sailing by and I say, ‘I got to go chase him, tell him to slow down.’ I started after him; he ends up going down Maple Street, up to 90 m.p.h. I knew the big curve was coming up by Jamison, so I backed off at Blood Road. I told Scheidemantel, ‘I’m backing off,’ for his safety and mine. Well, he kept going, missed the curve and ran into the embankment there by Bleek’s Tavern (now Earth Dimensions). The driver was killed. Turns out he and another guy had two underage girls in the car. They’d been down around Lime Lake drinking. They tried to sue the village and me, but it was clear that I’d tried to give him a chance.”

“I was on duty when the Red Barn on Grover Road burned in 1981, and when Shore’s Circle Inn burned in the winter of 1963. That was cold out there. There was the time the fire trucks had to come out and hose a bunch of kids that were up to no good near Paine Street and Main. I think it was one of those rowdy Halloweens. And there were a few tense moments when we heard that a group from out of town was coming here to start a rumble. And during the riots in Buffalo, they issued us some special gear, just in case.”

“Did you ever have to pull your gun?” I asked.

“Once. I was riding with Lt. Nicholson one day and a car went speeding out Center St. Nicholson says, ‘Shoot his back tire out.’ Well, I pull my gun and just as I go to shoot we hit a bump and the shot hits the frame of the rear window. Man, did that guy pull over in a hurry. We had to take him to Doc Norton to get him a shot to calm him down. We never did find out why he was in such a hurry.” 

Swyers retired after 30 years. “I went in as a patrolman and came out the same way. I never wanted to make lieutenant or detective or captain because I wanted to leave the job behind. I went home at the end of the day.” Besides, even while he was on the force, he was busy as a volunteer fireman, septic tank truck driver, a carpenter, security guard…you name it. He’s also been a 60-plus-year member of the Masons and a 50-plus-year member of American Legion Post 362.

In retirement, he got busier than ever. He worked as a car transporter for Frank Delia and later for West-Herr. At Fisher-Price, he was a night security guard. He helped part-time at Lancaster Speedway and Holland International, performing safety tasks after a wreck. He even did a stint with NASCAR as a spotter in the booth for announcers and TV broadcasters.  

These days, Don Swyers is known as the Mayor of Balcom Drive, proudly living half the year in the house he and Sally (who died in 1996) built for $11,000 in 1956. He spends the other half in Kissimmee, Florida, with his son Mike. At 94, soon to be 95, he mows several lawns on Balcom Drive and has promised to keep that up until he’s 100. As for the secret to a long life, he admits to a former fondness for good whiskey, which he’s given up on doctor’s suggestions. But he does enjoy a good chicken wing now and again. Other than that, “Walk a mile every day. And work hard.” He should know; he’s done both.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.