Gone country

O.C. Jones selects his last meat chicken for harvest. On his farm, he also raises egg chickens, pigs and a goat.

O.C. Jones, originally from the suburbs of Chicago, spends his days relaxing in the serenity of his log cabin and tending to a handful of small animals on his farm.   

As the sun sets over his old Kentucky home, O.C. switches gears. Climbing into his cruiser, he calls to Dispatch: “Cynthiana 7-1,” signaling the start of his 12-hour shift as a local police sergeant.  He is one of two police officers cruising foggy night streets in service to his community.    

Service is in O.C.’s blood. After high school he followed in the footsteps of his father and his mother's father, serving his county in the Army.  Eight years later he moved to Kentucky where he continued his passion for helping by beginning his policing career.  

With 27 years of police experience, the last two and a half in Cynthiana, O.C. is dedicated to his job.  “I’m responsible for the guys that work under me and for my city,” he says.   

O.C. believes in equal treatment. He says his motto is to “treat everyone the way I want to be treated, the way I would want my mom to be treated.”  He hopes for the same from others.  “People forget that cops are human too,” he says. “We bleed just like they do, we cry just like they cry, we laugh just like they laugh. And we have problems just like everybody else has problems.” 

When he dons his uniform and sets out for his shift, O.C. leaves his problems at his cabin door.  

“If you take your problems with you to work, then someone might not get treated fairly,”  he says. 

On patrol O.C. cruises through neighborhoods, performs door checks on business and talks with locals at nightly hangout spots.  Between stops, he chats with his wife, Bertha, who works for Lab Corp in Lexington.   They married last July.   

Since the two work almost opposite shifts, it’s hard to find time together, but they do, Bertha says.  “If it’s setting on the couch watching the fire or going out on the front porch and watching the sun rise, we try to find that time,” she says. 

The two begin their day having breakfast and feeding the animals, greeted only by the sounds of roosters and dogs, a far cry from the bustle of the city.   

“I decompress when I get back here,” O.C says. “When I hit the door, I just relax.” 

When harvesting, O.C. works to ensure the most humane kill. Hanging the chicken upside down, he uses a freshly-sharpened knife to sever the jugular.
Cleaning the chicken is the most tedious part of the harvest, O.C. says. A wrong cut could ruin the meat.
O.C. fits his earpiece and radio as he prepares for a 12-hour night shift. He has worked at the Cynthiana Police Department for over two years and is now a sergeant.
O.C. leaves for his shift shortly before dark. This allows him time to get updates on the day's events and know what problems to look out for during the night.
O.C. is one of two officers responding to calls throughout the night. He cruises streets, checks the doors of businesses and responds to calls from other departments.
O.C. sits in his cruiser writing reports and making notes for the day shift. The crusisr serves as both his transportation and his evening office.
O.C. jokes with his daughter Cheyenne, 6. Cheyenne and her two brothers, Cameron, 15, and Kenyon, 12, visit their father on weekends.
O.C and his wife, Bertha, live in their log cabin about 15 minutes out of town. They say they enjoy the peace the location provides.
O.C. holds Bonnie, his fainting goat, during morning feeding. After working a 12-hour night shift with the Cynthiana Police Department, O.C tends to chickens, pigs and Bonnie on his farm in Sadieville.