In Jacksonville, Florida, Police Officer Laveranues Coles recently stood near a Target store, surveying the parking area for an individual who had caused trouble within the establishment and then escaped. An older female shopper, heading towards her vehicle, came up to him.
Unaware that he had been among the National Football League’s most successful wide receivers between 2000 and 2009, she merely observed a law enforcement official equipped with a firearm, a taser, and a gear-laden vest containing a body camera, mace, restraints, and a police communication device. To her, he embodied complete integrity.
“Your presence here makes me feel secure,” she expressed to Coles, a statement that affected him far more profoundly than she could have conceived.
Had she been privy to his life’s hardships, including childhood sexual abuse by his armed stepfather, his two arrests, his expulsion from the Florida State football squad mid-1999 season, and his portrayal by the press as the “bad boy” prospect of the 2000 NFL draft.
If she had known the extent to which this ex-athlete, now in his middle years and having undergone two hip replacements, pushed himself for months at the Jacksonville Sheriff’s Office Academy, how his physique would cramp nightly due to the strenuous exertion, and how he nearly abandoned everything to return to his former, agreeable and easy existence before law enforcement.
If only she had known.
Nevertheless, her commendation brightened his day, indeed, his entire year.
“It signified everything to me,” Coles stated, describing it as the most satisfying experience of his current mid-career transition.
A journey, however, that is a source of worry for his loved ones and acquaintances.
COLES IS FREQUENTLY CONFRONTED with a straightforward question lately: Why?
His motivation is clearly not financial gain. Across a decade in the NFL, with seven of those years spent with the New York Jets, his earnings totaled $42 million. He characterized himself as fiscally responsible and adept at investments, convinced he possesses sufficient assets to sustain himself indefinitely.
Therefore, the annual income of $68,472 he currently receives while participating in the academy’s practical training initiative is not the impetus behind his choice to join the police force last January. Even upon becoming a fully certified officer, with his trial period concluding on January 23rd, his remuneration will increase to $70,032 after completing a year of duty.
To reiterate, finances are not the driving force here.
Coles entered law enforcement seeking a greater meaning in his existence, aiming to assist his local area and individuals who mirror his past self. As the Coldplay song “Viva La Vida” suggests, he now polices the very thoroughfares he once dominated. He was raised in Jacksonville, achieving widespread recognition at Ribault High School, accumulating almost 5,000 rushing yards as a running back before transitioning to wide receiver under the renowned Bobby Bowden at Florida State.
“My desire is for people to grasp that irrespective of one’s current phase or situation in life, it’s perpetually possible to initiate action and pursue new endeavors,” Coles stated during a subdued moment at the Police Memorial Building, a plain, rectangular structure downtown, located just a short distance from the Jacksonville Jaguars’ stadium, EverBank Stadium.
Upon concluding his playing career after the 2009 season, Coles contemplated remaining involved in football professionally. He completed an internship within the Jets’ administrative department but found the commercial aspects of the sport unappealing.
He returned to Jacksonville, secured a license for alcohol sales, and invested in well-known establishments, as well as a cosmetic product outlet in a fashionable district. He also engaged in stock market activities and spent considerable time playing video games with his children, embracing a comfortable existence. He maintained strong ties to his neighborhood, acquiring gear for his former high school and supporting preparatory classes for university entrance assessments. Ultimately, he completed an online criminology degree through California Coast University, which ignited his passion for police work. Acquaintances in the sheriff’s office motivated him to enroll in the academy, which he subsequently did.
At forty-seven, he embarked on a fresh profession—a decision that he quickly discovered was divisive for reasons extending beyond his years. He was surprised by the intense, conflicting viewpoints regarding his choice. The repercussions, he noted, have caused “tension.”
Certain individuals in his inner circle commended his dedication to public service. However, others, such as his friend, actor and filmmaker Tyler Perry, expressed doubts about his prudence. As Coles explained, “It doesn’t appear favorable to certain individuals,” referring to those who hold unfavorable views of law enforcement. They are concerned for his personal security.
“This isn’t an endeavor universally admired in the United States, unlike football,” Coles remarked. “The perspectives of others, particularly my closest companions, hold significant weight. My aim is simply to convey to them that the reality isn’t as grim as they might imagine. Yet, I comprehend their reservations.”
Wayne Chrebet, a former teammate from the Jets and one of his dearest friends, offered his complete backing.
“I informed him this represents a truly remarkable achievement,” Chrebet recounted. “Considering all he has accomplished throughout his life, undertaking this in his late forties struck me as ‘extraordinary.'”
Dan Henning, the retired coach who served as Coles’ initial offensive coordinator for the Jets and played a crucial role in the team’s contentious selection of him, shared Chrebet’s sentiment.
“I cannot adequately convey my immense pride in Laveranues,” Henning declared. “I find his undertaking truly admirable.”
COLES HAS EXPERIENCED LIFE from perspectives both within and against legal boundaries.
During 1998, he faced accusations of minor assault following a confrontation involving his previous stepmother, who had previously engaged in a dispute with Coles’ biological mother. He entered a plea of Nolo Contendre, acknowledging a misdemeanor battery charge, which resulted in a year of supervised release, 150 hours of public service, and a one-game suspension from Florida State.
His trajectory significantly shifted in October of 1999, when he and fellow player Peter Warrick were apprehended on felony theft charges in Tallahassee, Florida. They acquired clothing at a Dillard’s department store at a reduced price, facilitated by Warrick’s acquaintance with a store employee. Coles obtained apparel valued at $247 for a mere $20.
The accusations were downgraded to a minor offense. Coles was ordered to participate in a county work initiative for ten days, which entailed clearing roadside debris. He was subsequently dismissed from the Florida State squad.
Scouting professionals viewed him as a potential first-round selection due to his inherent abilities, but his draft value declined because, as he put it, he was seen as a “delinquent” lacking academic affiliation. He harbored resentment towards everyone. He experienced isolation, ensnared in profound despair. He described this as his absolute nadir.
With the benefit of retrospect, a new viewpoint emerged.
“Truthfully, if I’m being candid,” Coles commented, unwinding at the police precinct after an eleven-hour duty period earlier this month, “that experience proved to be the most beneficial occurrence in my life.”
He confessed to being a pampered sportsman, accustomed to the privileges associated with elite collegiate athletics. Reflecting now, he feels it was necessary for him to be humbled. This incident proved financially detrimental. He slid to the third round of the draft, where the Jets, in search of a replacement for their star wideout Keyshawn Johnson, halted his descent.
Inside the draft war room, an intense debate transpired between Bill Parcells, their chief football executive, and Steve Yarnell, the security director. Parcells had assigned Yarnell, a former FBI special agent, to conduct an inquiry into Coles’ history in Florida.
Yarnell endorsed the athlete, maintaining his stance despite Parcells’ public challenge within the room. Yarnell was cautioned that his employment would be terminated if Coles was drafted and subsequently failed.
“That rings true as a statement I would make,” Parcells reflected. Those present were astonished by the ferocity of the discussion.
“Coles frequently attempts to present himself as the aggrieved party in situations where his conduct has led to difficulties,” Yarnell documented in his 2000 assessment, acquired by ESPN. “He possesses an appealing quality and appears conscious of his precarious position. I am convinced that he is amenable to guidance; nevertheless, he requires considerable supervision for the foreseeable future.”
Henning also participated in the evaluation procedure. He traveled to Jacksonville to convene with Coles at an Olive Garden establishment. He perceived Coles as modest, candid, and intelligent. Henning’s spouse encountered Coles outside the eatery when she arrived to collect her husband.
“She was equally captivated by him,” Henning remarked, having advocated to team management for Coles’ selection.
A fact unknown to the Jets, and indeed to most, was that Coles had endured sexual abuse during his middle school years, specifically between the ages of ten and thirteen. His mother, Sirretta Williams, was employed during nighttime hours. In her absence, her spouse, Laveranues’ stepfather, assaulted him, uttering threats to end his and his mother’s lives if he disclosed the secret.
Coles harbored the disgrace and terror, eventually confiding in a diligent police officer who was looking into a schoolyard altercation where Coles had physically assaulted another student. His mother subsequently divorced the man, who ultimately spent three and a half years incarcerated.
He brought these experiences into his NFL career, frequently exhibiting a volatile and gloomy disposition. He joined the Jets with a “hard exterior,” as described by Chrebet, who continues to think his friend “struggles with trusting others.” Coles concurs with this assessment.
“My future wife believes I remain affected by that trauma even now, judging by my demeanor,” Coles commented, having disclosed his narrative publicly in 2005 and garnered widespread commendation for sharing his unspeakable ordeal.
In retrospect, he attributes his ability to navigate the crisis to that police officer, who reassured him of his security and protection. This experience partially explains his developing fondness for law enforcement.
“Currently,” Coles noted with a grin, “I am the one arriving at incident sites, endeavoring to improve situations.”
DURING THE INITIAL PHASES OF THE nine-month training academy, Coles underwent Taser deployment and pepper-spray exposure – compulsory for all recruits. He performed a quarter-mile crab walk in scorching 90-degree temperatures, with the blistering pavement making his palms feel intensely hot. The regimen included an obstacle course, a mile-long sprint, and an unquantifiable number of pushups and pullups.
“No one informed me of the rigor involved,” Coles stated, whose collegiate speed was so exceptional that scouts clocked him under 4.3 seconds in the 40-yard dash – a swiftness contributing to his accumulation of over 8,600 receiving yards with the Jets, Washington, and Cincinnati Bengals.
At the training facility, each day presented a distinct physical demand, challenging even an NFL veteran who had participated in 153 matches, sustained seven recorded concussions, and undergone four hip operations, two of which were replacements. During the evenings, his physique would experience severe, sometimes forceful, spasms. He considered relinquishing his pursuit, yet recalled a remark his son, Landon, a student at Harvard Law, had made regarding him:
His father never abandons any endeavor.
“It imbues me with a feeling of significance,” the parent of four remarked. “Much like in the NFL, games commence on Sundays irrespective of who is present or absent. The identical principle applies to this profession. Whether I am on duty or not, law enforcement personnel are traversing the roadways.”
Thus, he persevered through discomfort, dedicated himself to his studies, completed the academy, and was given an operational posting. Jacksonville is segmented into half a dozen police zones. Currently, he is policing district five – the Riverside area – which, based on recent law enforcement data, records the second-highest rate of criminal activity.
“He is the ideal individual for this role, for all residents of Jacksonville and for the populace,” asserted Collins, a friend of Coles since childhood. “It would be an immense privilege to collaborate with him, as these are precisely the kind of individuals we seek to serve the community and its inhabitants. He is not one to surrender, and he embraces difficult tasks.”
Coles has responded to vehicle collisions, household disagreements, robberies, and a self-inflicted fatality. On one occasion, a man sought to engage him in a physical confrontation on the thoroughfare. Coles successfully diffused the encounter using a soothing tone. He possesses a compassionate nature, an aptitude for relating to individuals experiencing hardship, perhaps owing to his own past experiences.
From time to time, he is identified by the public. Once, while going door-to-door, surveying a locality for intelligence, a man who answered his entranceway shouted inside, “You’ll never guess who’s at the door.” Indeed, a self-portrait photograph was captured.
In his street duties, Coles rapidly realized that individuals contacting law enforcement are likely experiencing distress. He has entered what he terms “intensely charged” scenarios, yet none have seemed to pose a direct threat to life.
When he meets young people, he endeavors to impart his personal narratives. He is acquainted with absolute despair. He comprehends the sensation of global isolation. He understands the experience of apprehension by authorities.
“Regarding any aspect of his history, to now be positioned differently, it feels like a complete cycle,” Chrebet commented.
Instances arise where personal sentiment clashes with established police protocols. Coles encountered an aged individual apprehended for pilfering food items. The man disclosed an absence of earnings due to the federal government closure, stating his necessity to provide for his household. He possessed no prior criminal record.
Coles observed contrition in the man’s gaze and wished to overlook the infraction, intending to cover the cost of the provisions personally; however, no leeway for judgment was permitted. As an officer still under probation, he adhered strictly to regulations. Consequently, he issued the man an NTA, which is essentially a court order.
“I sympathized deeply with him,” Coles expressed. “While I acknowledge his poor choice, a single lapse should not determine one’s entire existence.”
Officer Coles has demonstrated this truth.
