To Sheriff, Personal Safety Is Job One

Way back in the 1990s when he was a mere marshal, Mike Carona was a guy who could take a joke and roll with the punches. One of his more appealing qualities was how unpretentious he seemed. He was Everyman with a badge, a cop with savoir-faire and a hearty handshake.

But Orange County’s sheriff may never live this down: a team of bodyguards that drives him to speaking engagements and protects him in public? Code name Braveheart?

This is a dangerous world and it’s probably tacky to write about someone’s security precautions, but, what the heck, let’s give it the old college try.

So here we have Carona, in the middle of his second term as sheriff and apparently a marked man. Marked by whom, we’re not really sure, but enough to qualify him to travel under the watchful eye of the Dignitary Protection Unit -- the DPU -- of the Sheriff’s Department.

Our reporters had trouble learning how many people belong to the DPU or what it costs taxpayers, though they were told the unit isn’t assigned to Carona full time and also protects other dignitaries. It acts as a sort of mini-Secret Service, checking out crowds and is, perhaps, willing to take a bullet for the chief.

The president and vice president? Sure, we all understand that.

A governor? Yeah, I can see where someone like a public figure such as Arnold Schwarzenegger would need a security team. Maybe even big-city mayors.

But the Orange County sheriff? I thought we were paying the department to protect us.

A spokesman for Los Angeles County Sheriff Lee Baca says he travels with a sergeant who serves as driver and security. The Times reported last week that Carona is the only Southern California sheriff with a security team.

Carona apparently gets a small team of detectives with hidden microphones, earpieces and short haircuts. The department told Times reporters that the sheriff has received unspecified death threats, perhaps made more urgent by his membership on a federal homeland security committee and appearances on national TV.

Well, what can you say? If the man is in constant jeopardy, he’s in constant jeopardy.

The cool thing about being protected is that you get a code name. Ronald Reagan’s was Rawhide. President Bush’s is Tumbler; the first President Bush was Timberwolf.

And Carona’s? His is Braveheart, as in “Braveheart is approaching the podium. Double-check security perimeter.”

I guess Cupcake or Whiskers just wouldn’t cut it.

Ha! We kid.

As hush-hush as this subject apparently is, I can’t tell you whether Carona chose the name or whether the DPU gave it to him. Maybe his protectors knew he liked Mel Gibson’s blockbuster movie, or maybe they see the sheriff as the 21st century embodiment of William Wallace, the 13th century Scot who led a revolt against the repressive British.

Come to think of it, Wallace was a commoner, an Everyman.

Hey, wait a second ... !

While Tumbler is good enough for Bush, Carona apparently relates more to the valiant warrior who led an army before being ripped asunder by those who feared him.

Let’s leave it at that, except for this word to any of you planning to take in any of Carona’s public appearances. Keep in mind that this is no ordinary sheriff. If you see men in suits talking into their lapels, do not -- repeat, do not -- make any sudden movements.

And don’t be alarmed if you see a man in a kilt, face painted blue and white, arms outstretched and shouting at the top of his voice, Fre-e-e-e-eedom!

That’s merely the guest speaker.

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Dana Parsons’ column appears Wednesdays, Fridays and Sundays. He can be reached at (714) 966-7821 or at dana.parsons@latimes.com. An archive of his recent columns is at www.latimes.com/parsons.