First Patrols…Notes From The Rooftops
- Raven
- Jul 5
- 7 min read
I’ve decided to refer to this as “Notes From The Rooftops” in the proverbial sense that fictional heroes are often seen patrolling via rooftops. In reality, these are pretty much from the streets.
I asked active RLSH for their stories, commentary, and musings based on their first patrols. I decided that “first patrols” is a subject that newbies are usually pretty concerned over. It helps to have an idea of how it goes for other people. These are true accounts from the RLSH out there in the world.
Raven
Fairbanks, AK
When I started, back in ~2007/2008, my first patrol was done alone. I was highly concerned about being prepared enough. I had pushed off that first patrol a few times over this concern. That first patrol, which was done around the downtown area, had nothing going on. People were out doing normal stuff. No one was really noticing me. Everything seemed pretty peaceful. Now, in 2025, when newbies voice concern about getting out for patrol, I suggest going out on patrol and simply observing. Understand what is normal and what is not normal in that area. Recognize who is supposed to be there and who sticks out. If your uniform isn’t complete, it’s fine. You can probably get away with wearing your hero colors (in the form of temporary athletic clothing) until you get your uniform put together. Going on patrol is more about being ready and capable of de-escalation, prevention, and being helpful if first aid or an emergency occurs.
Impact
Bay Coast Guardians
St. Petersburg, FL
My first time going out in gimmick outside? I put on the suit, ran around the neighborhood, sometimes coming through backyards, and went home after about 15 minutes total. It did actually help me break into the idea of going out, dressed up, even if my whole goal was to avoid being seen
My first actual one, I think I realized that I was unlikely to find too much real crime, so I went out, walked around a more populated/downtown area, brought hand out supplies because I knew I was unlikely to see crime, and still was very nervous. I handed out some cans of Chef Boyardee, and just kind of got used to it. Those cans became my calling card in the area by the end, and the unhoused knew me as spaghetti man.
Xeno
Portland, OR
Determination and wonder filled my mind as I made the final cut to the black t-shirt I recovered from the depths of my drawer. This was an old shirt, one that barely fit me anymore but the sleeve fit snug around my head and face which provided all the discretion and anonymity needed for what I intended to do.
The executioner mask (as I like to call it) was less than comforting and it came across as hoodlum attire before it would ever be considered heroic. But I didn't care; once the eye holes were cut out and the top hemmed up, it fit over my face perfectly and combined with a blank gray hoodie it served as the first uniform of who would be known as, ‘The Xeno’.
Tonight would be my very first patrol. It was April 2016 and I had read an article about a Real Life Superhero operating in a nearby town, kickstarting a fantasy I had for a long time - not only because of ‘Kick Ass’ and my love of comic books, but because it was something that made sense to me living in the face of poverty and street crime. Tonight I will make my stand.
It was around 10PM when I left home. On my way out I decided to arm myself with a metal chair leg I had gotten from an old school chair and had been used for various blunt force reasons around the house. This wasn't for any reason except for the quote, “Walk tall and carry a large stick” which is something I stand behind to this day. I found myself on the nearest main street and I began to walk towards the elementary school, not sure of what to do or where to go, but on the hunt for any crime to stop or any other heroic purpose I could find.
Turns out the most interesting thing I found that night might as well have been an empty garbage bag. Nothing occurred and I tried to avoid any people as to maintain the shadow discretion I thought was appropriate. Afterall, Batman is only seen when he WANTS to be seen… right? Right.
I did this for a few more nights and it was largely the same routine of walking the neighborhood, nothing happening and I'd go home feeling defeated. That is until one night I encountered ‘The TOM’ - TOM is the first villain in my rogues gallery and popped up frequently enough to be notable. Let me explain; TOM stands for Tweaker On a Mountain-bike, and this individual may very well still live in fear of the Xeno to this day.
It was a wet night after a long day of spring showers. By then I had begun to figure out my patrol route and did my rounds with not much to report. Before heading home, I went to pass through the school yard where I spotted TOM, sitting on his bike in riding position (both feet on the pedals) leaning against the brick wall under the covered area of the school. Twisting upon his lips was a rancid, bulbous apparatus used for smoking methamphetamine which is exactly what he was doing.
“This is a school…” I thought to myself, contemplating how to go about it and what to do. For a moment I considered assaulting him, using the chair leg to bust HIS leg or maybe his bike.
Mentally I justified this as, “Do your dope away from schools, F*** face.” - Ultimately I decided against this action. Some drug user isn't worth any potential blowback and I didn't want to give my “hero” persona a bad reputation right off the bat. So… walk tall and carry a large stick. Bonzai!
As the fiend inhaled his vices, I put on my loudest and scariest voice possible and charged him with my weapon in hand, “GET THE F*** AWAY FROM THE SCHOOL!” - TOM turned to me like a deer on a highway. First there was anger, and then there was fear. He jolted forward, nearly falling as he pushed himself from the wall and began to ride away with much haste, dropping his pipe and breaking it in the fumble but not seeming to care about the loss, TOM bolted away like his life depended on it and I had felt accomplished in my patrol for the first time; I chased off someone doing drugs at a school and it would be harder for him to do it in the future.
The next time I encountered TOM was after I had put together my uniform properly, including the signature chest logo that would be in all following variants and a better mask that didn't put me on the zodiac suspect list. My nightly patrols had begun to be full sweeps of the neighborhood and its side streets by then, so it was nearing 3AM when I passed through the school. Sitting against the brick wall chasing the dragon was TOM, his bike leaning next to him as he lived his best life. Sometimes people never learn.
I stalked him from the darkness for a minute, again contemplating how to handle the situation and wondering if I SHOULD teach him a lesson since he wanted to do that at a school. I would be lying if I said I didn't want to. Instead, I crept as quietly as I could along his blind side, getting close enough to smell the dope burning from the foil as I put on the same voice as before, “GET THE F*** OUT OF HERE!” I screamed as I smacked the wall with the chair leg.
However, this time TOM wasn't so scared. This time he cursed and said he would mess me up. He stuffed the foil in his pocket and went to stand up so I got more firm, “Do that elsewhere or ill be back” and smacked the wall again with a loud clink. TOM stared at me and I stared back until he shrugged it off and tried making fun of me for, “thinking I'm a cop”, though he hopped on his bike and rode off, talking trash as he rode away on his signature mountain-bike. Another successful thwarting in my book.
The last time I encountered THE TOM was not at the school, but instead on one of the side streets nearby. It was around midnight and an otherwise uneventful night. Ahead, someone was coming towards me about 3 blocks down moving at a steady pace. Upon further inspection I realized they were riding a bike. Imagine my surprise when I realized it was The TOM, in the flesh, who locked onto me and rubber necked as he passed by not saying a word. I turned and locked onto him as he kept riding on, double taking back to look at me a couple times when I made my move…
Full on sprint. Think Baseball furies or Terminator 2, proper form and as fast as I could possibly go. I didn't say a word as my action spoke loud and clear; TOM began to bolt, far more desperately than before, and I gave chase for 5 or 6 blocks before he turned heading downhill
and started to get away. In total I chased him about 11 blocks before losing him and I never saw him around the neighborhood again. There will always be lesser toms out there, but none of them compare to THE TOM.
Those first patrols taught me a lot about what doing the work is all about. It's not always about fighting crime or extreme measures. A quiet night is a good night as far as I'm concerned, though it goes without saying there is some intense wisdom in the quote, “Walk tall and carry a large stick.” - a big voice helps too.
If you enjoyed this “Notes From The Rooftops”, please leave a comment. If there is a question you have for the community at large, that you would like to see in this “Notes From The Rooftops” format, let me know.
On an entire other note, if you are an RLSH, please take a moment to fill out this RLSH 2025 Demographics Survey. It's anonymous. Just looking to gather some general information to study.
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