Frank Amal Baker, left, joined by his fiancee, Tasha Miller, talks with former St. Paul Police officer Tony Spencer, right, outside his St. Paul apartment on Wednesday, March 22, 2017. Spencer retired last October after 20 years in law enforcement, including a police call last June that involved Baker and played a role in Spencer's decision to leave the force. (Jean Pieri / Pioneer Press)

Baker was mistaken for a suspect armed with a weapon involved in what Spencer said turned out to be a possibly bogus and unfounded call last June about a group of men fighting with bats and golf clubs at the Pine Tree Park apartment complex on St. Paul's East Side. Baker suffered permanent damage to his leg, several broken ribs and collapsed lungs after he was bitten by a police dog and kicked three times in the torso area by another St. Paul Police officer. (Jean Pieri / Pioneer Press)

Frank Baker and Tony Spencer meet again in the parking lot where Baker was kicked by a now-dismissed St. Paul police officer. (Jean Pieri / Pioneer Press)

Baker shows Spencer his high school yearbook. (Jean Pieri / Pioneer Press)

Baker's biography from his 1982 high school yearbook. (Jean Pieri / Pioneer Press)



Frank Baker hugs Tony Spencer outside by his apartment. "You and Joe (Spencer's former partner Joe Dick) are my heroes," said Baker. "God's spirit told me to come down and I'm glad I did 'cuz I got to meet one of the cops that helped me. " Spencer and Dick went with Baker when he was taken to the emergency room for treatment. (Jean Pieri / Pioneer Press)

Spencer, 46, testified on behalf of the city in an arbitration hearing involving a fellow cop fired for his role in Baker's arrest -- a controversial, videotaped incident that went national and international. "It was very difficult because it was something I had been programmed throughout my career to never do," Spencer said. (Jean Pieri / Pioneer Press)

Former St. Paul cop Tony Spencer hands in his retirement papers, badge, hat wreath and photo id on his last day as a police officer in Oct. 2016. (Courtesy of Tony Spencer)

On Oct. 13th of last year, Tony Spencer walked into St. Paul police headquarters for the last time as a police officer and filled out the necessary retirement papers.

The 20-year veteran handed in his service weapon. He left the patrol uniform he wore on his final shift hanging in front of his locker at the eastern district office. He had a choice: turn in his hat wreath and badge with the number – 658 – or take them home for $90. He figured his kids may want them as a memento, so he forked over the money.

Then, as is the protocol when a cop retires, he was escorted out of the building. His escort was Chief Inspector Jennifer Corcoran, once his partner in the gang unit.

He walked out of the place a civilian again, leaving behind two decades of blood, sweat and also tears on the streets of the Saintly City.

“It was surreal,” he told me this week.

Three weeks ago, the married father of four from Woodbury did something as difficult: He testified on behalf of the city in an arbitration hearing involving a fellow cop fired for his role in a controversial, videotaped incident that went national and international.

“It was very difficult because it was something I had been programmed throughout my career to never do,” Spencer, 46, told me recently.

“But I decided that the right thing to do was tell Mr. Baker’s story,” he added as he looked away momentarily, tears starting to form in his eyes. “I owed it to him. How do you explain to that guy what happened to him was justified?”

Spencer is referring to Frank Arnal Baker. The 53-year-old St. Paul man suffered permanent damage to his leg, several broken ribs and collapsed lungs last June after he was bitten by a police dog and kicked three times in the torso area by St. Paul Police Officer Brett Palkowitsch.

Baker’s crime? He was mistaken for a suspect armed with a weapon involved in what Spencer said turned out to be a possibly bogus and unfounded call about a group of men fighting with bats and golf clubs at the Pine Tree Park apartment complex on St. Paul’s East Side. Baker had no gun and was sitting inside his Jeep in a small parking area behind his apartment building when he was ordered out of the vehicle. His arrest on charges of obstructing the legal process was later voided.

The K-9 officer, Brian Ficcadenti, was suspended for a month by Police Chief Todd Axtell, who was sworn in to his post just a day before the incident. He later visited Baker at the hospital, learning there that Baker had attended the inauguration ceremony.

Axtell fired Palkowitsch, a three-year veteran. Palkowitsch is fighting for his job back and maintains his actions were justified. An arbitrator’s decision is pending.

According to his incident report, Palkowitsch said he kicked Baker because he “fully believed that Baker was armed with a firearm and I wanted this progressively evolving use of force encounter on a gun call to end as fast as possible for the safety at the scene.”

He said after the first two kicks, he loudly ordered Baker to stay on the ground and put his hands out, but the man turned over and brought his hands toward his waistband area.

“I did not know if Baker was attempting to retrieve a weapon or was just continuing to move around and not comply with commands so I delivered one more kick,” Palkowitsch wrote.

Spencer and his partner, Joe Dick, a 12-year veteran, were the most senior and the primary officers who first responded to the 911 call and arrived at the scene. Both cops were familiar with the apartment complex – numerous drug busts, gang-related activities, and that several middle-aged “OGs” – old-school Gangster Disciples from Chicago – resided there.

“It’s an area hostile to law enforcement,” Spencer said. But both veteran cops had suspicions about the veracity of the call.

First off, it was a non-local call from an anonymous complainant.

“We get up there and there is nothing going on,” he said. They drive around the complex, through the back alley. They spot a man who they later learn was Baker sitting in the Jeep about three addresses away from where the initial brawl site was called in.

Although Baker is black, has his hair in dreadlocks and was wearing a white T-shirt – the general description of the alleged gunman – Spencer and Dick did not feel the need to approach or question him.

“There are about 50 people who would have matched that description that night,” Spencer said. “He is not acting agitated. To me, he does not appear to be engaged in a fight. He did not appear to have run from a fight … so we continue to roll through.”

Other squads arrive moments later, and Spencer spots Palkowitsch and his partner come out with guns drawn.

Then they hear Ficcadenti loudly yelling verbal commands at someone in the alley. Spencer pulls the squad facing where the commotion is taking place and turns on the squad car’s spotlights to illuminate the darkly lit area. The video that went viral came from Spencer’s squad car.

“I’m thinking he (Ficcadenti) saw something we didn’t see or missed and is now performing a felony-style stop,” Spencer recalled. “As I turn the car and see the dog pulling out his man from the cars, I recognize it’s (Baker). I can clearly see there’s nothing in his hand as he comes between the cars.” No weapon was ever found in Baker’s Jeep or the area.

“The dog was doing what it’s supposed to do in controlling him,” Spencer said. “Mr. Baker was in a lot of pain. But I did not see him making any furtive movements.”

Dick asked him at that point to divert his attention to people who were now walking to the scene or coming out from the rear of the building. Spencer is seen on the video leaving, his back to the encounter. He never saw the kicks. He could not understand why Baker was complaining that he was having difficulty breathing after he was handcuffed and seated after medics were called. “I’m looking at his leg, which had suffered a lot of trauma, but he’s not saying anything about his leg,” Spencer said. “It went through my head: why the (expletive deleted) can’t he breathe if the dog ripped his leg up?”

Dick informed him of the kicks and rode with Baker by ambulance to Regions Hospital. Spencer followed and took pictures of Baker’s injuries in the emergency room. He could see through the leg down to the bone.

He distinctly recalled an emergency room nurse rolling her eyes in disgust after confirming Baker had fractured ribs.

“And that staff down there loves us,” Spencer said.

He also vividly remembers his conversation with Baker while he was undergoing treatment.

“He had these big tears in his eyes,” Spencer noticed. “He was still having trouble breathing. And then he tells me: ‘I know there are good cops and there are bad cops. The thing is I know what you guys are up against out there. I know what St. Paul cops deal with. I live in that area. I love my St. Paul cops. The dog thing I almost get because I did not come out as quick as I probably should have. But those kicks he did were bogus.’ ”

The only response Spencer could muster: “Mr. Baker, it’s on video.”

The morning after the incident, Dick sent an email to an eastern district supervisor. “There are several issues I would like to address regarding this,” he wrote. “I’m concerned and disappointed in the way it was handled.”

Spencer braced for the video to become public that week. He was already becoming disillusioned about the portrayal of cops in the aftermath of controversial police shootings in recent years and the protests and condemnations that followed. He thought painting police with such a broad stroke was inherently unfair. Then this.

“Every good cop working in St. Paul was put in a dangerous spot because of the actions of those cops that night,” he said, adding that the city ordered two-officer squad-car patrols for a few weeks as a safety precaution.

“That’s not the foundation that the department was built on,” he added. “Ninety-nine percent of those cops are solid rock stars. They go out and do a great job, going into harm’s way every (expletive deleted) night. And then this.

“The frustrating thing is that we gave them (police critics) a freebie,” he continued. “We gave everybody a reason to say this is what is wrong with law enforcement.”

Palkowitsch’s attorney, Chris Wachtler, offered a different perspective on Spencer.

“It was Spencer and his partner Dick on one side of the valley and the whole rest of the East team on the other side of the valley,” Wachtler said of the testimony rendered at the arbitration hearing.

A supervisory sergeant testified that as a senior officer Spencer “was causing problems,” Wachtler related. “He was not showing leadership. Spencer was described as being a cancer on the east team.”

Wachtler said Palkowitsch “very much wants his job back” and described him as a rising star on the force who was being considered for promotion as a Field Training Officer in just three years of police work.

Spencer said he thought the video from the Baker incident would surely be released following the July fatal shooting of Philando Castile by a St. Anthony cop during a traffic stop that led to a violent freeway protest and other unrest. Nope. Nothing.

He was not aware that Baker did not want his name attached to any unrest and agreed after a meeting with Axtell to await the results of an internal probe. In early November, Axtell released the video and announced the disciplinary action.

Baker’s lawyer, Robert Bennett, filed a $5 million federal lawsuit against the St. Paul Police Department and the city after settlement negotiations reached an impasse. Sources familiar with the negotiations said Bennett asked for at minimum $2.1-million. The city countered with a $1.2-million offer. Ficcadenti, Palkowitsch, Spencer and Dick, among others, are named as co-defendants in the suit.

Spencer reflected on his career. He’s a first-generation cop who did a stint first with Stillwater police before joining St. Paul, the department “I’ve always dreamed of working as a kid because they treated people right.” He recalls the close relationship he had with Ron Ryan Jr. when both were police interns, looking down at the city from the old St. John Hospital grounds, wondering where they would be in 10 years’ time.

Less than five years later, in 1994, Officer Ryan would be ambushed and gunned down at a church parking lot by a gun-toting drifter who hours later fatally shot K-9 cop Timothy Jones and the dog during a city-wide manhunt for him.

“We are the department that brought (cop killer) Guy Harvey Baker to jail alive,” he said. “That’s what the community expects of us. The younger cops don’t understand the legacy of the department. In our darkest hour on our worst day, we brought in that guy alive. And he did not have seven broken ribs and two collapsed lungs, did he? And he killed two of our cops.”

St. Paul Deputy Chief Paul Iovino said the city loses out when cops like Spencer leave the job.

“I have known Tony most of my life,” Iovino said. He described him as a “good police officer and tenacious investigator who genuinely cared about the city of St. Paul and making it a better place to live and work.” Related Articles Oakdale man sentenced to 30 years for death of West St. Paul father shot as 2-year-old son slept beside him

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“His greatest tool was not on the belt around his waist, but his ability to create a genuine and personal connection with the people he served, no matter what the situation,” Dick said of his former partner. “He held himself accountable for the outcome on every call he took, and integrity by which he did his job was second to none.”

Spencer lamented not bumping into Frank Baker during his patrols in the area this past summer and early fall, before he called it quits.

He got his chance by accident on Wednesday after I asked him to meet me where the incident took place.

A man appeared at a window and asked Spencer and the photographer who they were and what they were doing there. Spencer identified himself.

Baker came down and the two men had a private heart-to-heart off to the side – no lawyers, no media, just two men doing what Baker later described to me as “real talk.”

“He could not have been more gracious,” Spencer told me later.

“God’s spirit told me to come down,” Baker said, “and I’m glad I did because I got to meet one of the cops that helped me.”

Video from the June 24 incident:



This article has been edited to correct Tony Spencer’s age. He is 46 years old.