The Pastoral Policeman

Kenneth Eugene Hager, 45, is a big (6 ft. 2 in., 240 Ibs.) cop who knows every lush, pimp and tart on "Sin Corner" in Charleston, W.Va., where he has been running them in for 20 years. Today he is Charleston's Policeman of the Month, but not for making arrests. Ken Hager's proud specialty is saving souls.

Not long ago he specialized in booze and brawling. On his way home from the Army in 1946, Ken stopped in at his favorite bar at Sin Corner--Summers Street and Kanawha Boulevard--and there he learned that both his father and brother had just died. He promptly went on a bender that could be heard for blocks. Back at his job on the force, he was suspended three times for drinking, improper conduct, breach of duty. "I was nothing but a bum in a policeman's uniform," he says. "I showed no mercy, no tolerance. My arrest tactics were often disgraceful brawls. Most of the time I was so sick from drinking that I couldn't make it to roll call."

Hope & Help. One day in 1955, Ken Hager seemed to see himself for the first time. "I realized I was on the road to hell and that nothing could help me but God. It seemed I couldn't get to him fast enough." He quit drinking, joined a Nazarene church, and began going to work an hour early each morning to study his Bible. But a pious cop is not necessarily a good cop. Police Chief Dallas Bias found the new Hager "ineffectual" because he kept trying to help suspects instead of digging up evidence and hammering out confessions. Transferred to desk duty, Hager still seemed miscast. Chief Bias went to the mayor. "How about setting up a chaplaincy for the force?" he suggested.

The experiment was a snowballing success. Chaplain Hager's fellow officers avoided him at first, but soon began dropping into his tiny office at headquarters to talk over their problems. He has helped to keep at least three police families from breaking up, and prompted a dozen police officers to join churches. In municipal court Hager sits next to Judge James McWhorter every morning so that he can prepare for follow-up work with defendants. Among the winos of Summers Street he is a symbol of hope and help, has managed to rehabilitate a dozen drunks.

A Little Prodding. But the brightest star in Ken Hager's new crown is his "Soul's Harbor Mission." In an old bar and barbecue joint he built a sanctuary with pulpit, piano, pews and mourner's bench, a bunkroom with modern kitchen, showers and storage areas. Hager opened his doors to the hungry and homeless on Jan. 8, 1956, has given lodgings to more than 4,000 of them, served 22,000 meals, and sent 650 converts to churches of their choice. Every night Ken Hager, now a minister of the Church of the Nazarene, welcomes them to an informal nondenominational service of hymn and prayer.

This week Charleston's cops and skid row bums were talking about the bad news: Chief Bias was looking for a new chaplain and missioner. Ken Hager is retiring from the force to move to New Smyrna Beach, Fla., where his brother, sister and 85-year-old mother live. But he does not plan to relax in the sun. "I believe God will lead me into new work there," he says. "I imagine some people down there need a little prodding about the future of their souls. I'll be there to give it to them."

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