Meet Col. Keith Mallard -- THE Alaska State Trooper
True Alaskans profile: Colonel Keith Mallard
by Michaela Goertzen
Colonel Keith Mallard, Director of the Alaska State Troopers (AST), is one of the jollier men I’ve
ever met. I’d imagined him to be a little more officious, naturally. But this was just as well, since
I had a list of not-so-serious questions for the Colonel: What’s your favorite donut? How many
speeding tickets have you written? What do you think of the hit TV series, Alaska State
Troopers?
Contrary to stereotype, the Colonel doesn’t eat donuts; an attentive officer will write about 20
speeding tickets per day; and he’s not a fan of the reality show.
“It’s a distraction,” he says.
Unsurprising that he would think the show’s somewhat of a misrepresentation. He says his men and women are out in the field doing all kinds of good things for local communities, while “the show’s all about being drunk and in jail. It doesn’t show you how beautiful Alaska Native culture is.”
Fair enough. So what’s it really like to be an Alaska State Trooper? That’s when the Colonel
shed some reality on the job, and shared a story of personal and professional tragedy and hope.
The month of March
March 2013 turned out to be among the most tragic months in AST history.
On March 19, a Village Public Safety Officer, Thomas Madole, was shot and killed in the line of
duty in the Southwest village of Manokotak. Less than two weeks later, an AST helicopter
went down after rescuing a stranded snowmachiner near Talkeetna, and another trooper, Tage
Toll, and Dept. of Public Safety (DPS) search and rescue pilot Mel Nading, were killed in the
crash.
On these deaths, the Colonel’s reflection was both raw and sincere:
“The month of March was tremendously tragic for the DPS family,” Mallard said. But he was
quick to praise their resilience and heroism. “March 2013 let the state see the character of the
Alaska State Troopers; but these guys are doing this every day.”
And then he quoted Theodore Roosevelt:
It’s not the critic who counts, nor the man who points out how the strong man
stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs
to the man in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives
valiantly…who knows the enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a
worthy cause; who at the best knows – in the end – the triumph of high achievement, and who – at the worst, if he fails – at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be among those cold and timid souls who have never known neither victory, nor defeat.
“Every one of those men was in the arena,” he said of the three, with pride and tears.
The early years
Despite his obvious leadership skills and charisma, Mallard’s outlook wasn’t always so bright. A
physically and verbally abusive father, a regularly uprooted home, and an overworked,
single mother were all a part of his childhood experience. They were not happy times, but
because of them, he brings a special sensitivity toward Alaska’s children to his role as director.
“There were times in my life I remember hiding in a darkened house before dad came home,”
he admitted. “No child should grow up being terrorized by someone who’s supposed to take
care of them.”
On that front, Alaska has some devastating statistics. “But we have a governor who gets it,” he
said, referring to Gov. Sean Parnell’s Choose Respect campaign to end domestic violence and
sexual assault. He says it’s that work that drives him every day. That, and some impetus from
Scripture. “Well done, good and faithful servant” (Matthew 25:21), is the commendation that
he says will matter at the end of his life’s work.
Rising through the ranks
Following some turbulent years at home, his mother was eventually remarried to a retired
lieutenant colonel of the army while Mallard was in junior high.
“He was my primary role model, and instilled some discipline in my life,” he said.
Following a successful high school athletic career, Mallard joined the military and worked as a
hospital corpsman in Southern California; was married to a high school classmate; worked in
the Canyon County Sherriff’s department (Idaho) for several years; and finally landed in Alaska,
where he was initiated to the state on St. Paul Island, no less, with a job at the local police
department.
He joined the Alaska State Troopers in 1996 and moved to Fairbanks as part of the Special
Emergency Response Team, where he became the first dual canine handler (drug detection and
suspects) in Alaska. He was later promoted to commander of the Alaska Bureau of Alcohol and
Drug Enforcement. He spoke of each assignment with energy, as though it were one privilege
after another.
Colonel Mallard’s Alaska State Troopers
Then, in December of 2010, after 14 years with AST, he was appointed by Gov. Parnell as
Director.
“The pedal’s been to the floor since day two,” he said as he spoke of his goals with energy. “I
want to take advantage of every opportunity – I don’t know how long I’ll have it.”
His priority for AST is greater collaboration, which he’s expediting through upgraded software
to better catalogue information and identify crime trends.
“The visibility of a trooper is just as important to reducing crime as intervening,” he said. “I
want to identify pieces of technology that give troopers the opportunity to be as efficient as
possible.”
He’s also developing a wellness program for everyone involved in the work of AST. From the
troopers on the scene, to the dispatchers on the radio, to the office staff transcribing the
casework and filing the photographs, he knows that crash after crash and assault after assault
takes its toll. And when the incident involves one of their own, he is committed to taking care of
the families. In the case of the three fallen, it meant assigning a trooper to each family who was
able to help navigate the necessary paperwork, the state medical examiner’s office, and to
answer questions and offer stability.
“As you advance in the ranks, it becomes more about taking care of those under you,” he said.
He even sent a couple troopers to Officer Madole’s hometown memorial service in Missouri.
Then he quoted one of Madole’s family members: “When we saw the Alaska State Troopers
come through the door, we knew everything was going to be okay.”
In addition, to connect with a very dispersed team of troopers and maintain the family culture,
he sends out “Colonel’s Comments” videos once a month. “I’m a very interactive guy, but as
Colonel, you get unplugged. If I’m going to lead these men and women, I need to look them in
the eyes.”
This only affirmed my impression – from beginning to end – of his accessible, community-
oriented approach.
Speaking of video, in fairness to the Alaska State Troopers producers and fans, Mallard said he
does appreciate the way the show’s taken the nation’s most unique law enforcement operating
environment and presented it to the world.
“I was at the bottom of the flippin’ Grand Canyon and a group finds out I’m with the Troopers,” he laughed. “So I gave them a series that I had with me. You’d have thought I’d given them a million dollars.”
Savor the stardom, Colonel Mallard. You’re as a real a celebrity as they come.
