JACKSON, MI - He's been spit on, punched and kicked. He's been insulted. He's seen injured children and continuous troublemakers.

And it's made him somewhat cynical, maybe a little callous, but David Renteria still enjoyed the work. He still believes people, mostly, are good.

Treat others with respect and receive respect, Renteria said. "Just because you broke the law or did something to get my attention doesn't mean you are a bad guy. You just made a bad decision."

Renteria, 59, was reflecting Tuesday, April 24, on 25 years as a Jackson patrol officer, a job he approached with humor and handled with patience. Retired, he finished his last shift on Sunday with an emotional final call.

Now retired Officer David Renteria, in uniform, stands outside a Jackson patrol vehicle while his son Austin Renteria, an aspiring police officer, sits on a motorcycle. (Courtesy of Austin Renteria)

"To all my brothers and sisters in uniform that I have worked with the past 25 years, it has been an incredible honor. The way you handle yourselves in your communities professionally in face of all the criticism and attacks on law enforcement is inspirational. Keep up the good work," he said from his patrol vehicle at the downtown Jackson police station.

"To the citizens of Jackson, community at large, it has been my pleasure to serve you and I hope I have done so in an honest, fair and impartial manner, and rest assured that my comrades still working will do everything in their power to keep you safe."

His son Austin, 22, an aspiring public safety officer, was there to record the message and broadcast it live on Facebook.

Final call for JPD Officer Renteria Badge 032💙💙 so proud of you dad! Posted by Austin Renteria on Sunday, April 22, 2018

More than 1,000 people have posted comments. Some said the call brought them to tears. One man called Renteria among "the finest officers I have ever met."

"Definitely one of the good ones," another said. "Such character," remarked a woman.

In an interview, Elmer Hitt, Jackson director of police and fire services, echoed some of the sentiments. Renteria was always deferential in his interactions, he said. "I think he's displayed a level of professionalism over his career that is admirable."

All day Sunday, Renteria promised his son he wouldn't cry, but when he put the radio to his mouth, his voice broke. He paused.

He knew the message he wanted to convey, but it proved difficult and he did not say all he intended. He thanked the 911 dispatchers who sent him to calls for providing information that brought about successful conclusions and kept him safe.

Now retired Jackson police Officer David Renteria, left, with his son Austin, 22, when Austin Renteria completed reserve officer training. (Courtesy of Austin Renteria)

For years Renteria rose at 4 a.m., with time for coffee and TV news, and arrived early, ready to work, before the younger officers with sleep still in their eyes.

He will miss it. Not the paperwork and the oversight so much, but the streets and the people he said.

Talking to them, letting them be heard, has been his strength, he said. "I can talk to anybody," he said.

"Like you've been best friends forever," his son said.

The two were sitting at Renteria's kitchen table in the family's longtime home, which the elder Renteria plans to sell as he and his wife move permanently to their cottage near Mount Pleasant.

Renteria grew up in Jackson, on Robinson Street, on the city's south side. One of five children mostly raised by his mother, he graduated from Lumen Christi High School and spent three years as a U.S. Marine. He worked various jobs, for Montgomery Ward and in telecommunications installation. For seven years, he was with the grounds department at Jackson College.

He studied criminal justice and became an officer in 1993.

Renteria wanted to help, but as he repeatedly encountered the same people or went to the same places, he realized he couldn't make a difference. "I could only change behavior for that given moment."

He felt differently about his work at Jackson High School, where he was an officer from 2000-03 and 2006-09. "Once they got to know me and trust me, they would talk to me."

Years later, he encountered former students, in a domestic or other situation, and they recognized him. "You can see their whole attitude change..."

Even today, in conversations, Hitt hears school officials and former students mention Renteria. They remember him. "For good reasons," the director said.

Renteria's son has heard the compliments too. He was amazed when he first started riding along with his father that people would thank him. "I would never tell a police officer, 'Thank you for arresting me.' That blew my mind."

Since he was a child, Austin said he wanted to be like his dad. He still does.

Renteria used to drive his patrol car home for lunch. "While he is in here eating, I am out playing in the car," Austin said. "Two rules: Don't turn on the siren and don't key the microphone."

Austin, hoping to secure a full-time job in law enforcement, works for a security company and is a reserve officer in Albion.

David Renteria has advice for the youngest of his two sons. "He's got to be true to himself first. You can't compromise your beliefs and your principles to make things easier for someone else."

Treat people with respect. "Until there comes a point in time they show you they are not worthy of that respect, he said."

And do not take anything for granted, he said. "You have to assume that everybody there, no matter how nice they are talking to you, they might have that intent in the back of their mind to hurt you."

Renteria knows. He's seen a lot. Some of it funny. Some of it sad. He remembers interviewing a man he was convinced, from the start, had injured his girlfriend's child. The baby died and the man later confessed.

He remembers a rape victim dragged between houses, the girl's clothes in the yard and her family's desire to find and kill the culprit.

Renteria has seen attitudes toward law enforcement sway with political climates. He talks of the negativity now purveyed on social media, a venue for instantaneous commentary.

It is learned behavior he said, recalling a child young enough to wear diapers running from the street yelling "Cops!" as Renteria approached Trail and Blackstone streets.

Officers cannot take it personally. "You are going to hear things. People are going to accuse you of things," he said.

"You know who you are. You know what kind of cop you are going to be or what kind of cop you are. It doesn't matter what people say."