Sergeant Slacker Strikes Again: Medicine Hat’s Finest Cops a Plea, Keeps Badge
TLDR; Sergeant, accused of violations under the police act, including multiple counts of discreditable conduct and neglect of duty, deceit, played guilty to four of the 10 charges against him, resulting in demotion from Sergeant back to constable and an accompanying $25,000 loss of income over a two I got year period, due to that demotion, He agreed to a statement of facts that was presented in this quasi judicial public hearing. The police act hearing, held in the Medicine Hat police station told the story of how this sergeant left his post to attend court and “negotiate” with the judge to lessen the impact of a speeding ticket against one of his buddies kids. The crown prosecutor took umbridge with his attempt to sway the court while wearing his professional Medicine Hat police attire. This violates Medicine Hat police policy and was agreed to be a contravention of the police act. The demoted officer got emotional during his apology and his lawyer took over. He will keep his badge and be patrolling as a drug recognition expert. One of only two in our city.
In a stunning display of accountability (or lack thereof), Sergeant Darren Holeha—now former Sergeant, thanks to a swift demotion—pleaded guilty yesterday to some of the many charges laid against him under the Police Act. The hearing, held in a room adorned with stern "NO RECORDING" signs (because nothing says transparency like forbidding journalists from accurately documenting proceedings), revealed a tale of laziness, entitlement, and a flagrant misuse of authority that would be hilarious if it weren’t so depressingly predictable.
COP stares at a pen with a reporter from CHAT. Mezmerized for hours.
A Masterclass in Mediocrity
Holeha, who spent two decades climbing the ranks only to spectacularly faceplant the moment he got his sergeant stripes, copped to four of the ten charges against him. Among his admissions:
Chronic tardiness (because who needs punctuality when you’ve got rank?)
Failing to report absences (a classic "my time is more valuable than yours" move)
Abandoning his post to play legal fixer for his buddy’s kid’s speeding ticket (while in full uniform, because subtlety is for rookies)
Ah yes, nothing says "public servant" like using your badge to strong-arm the justice system for personal favors. The Crown, shockingly, took issue with this blatant abuse of power, leading to one of the few charges that actually stuck.
Selective Memory: The 2015 Incident That ‘Never Happened’
The most convenient part of the hearing? The complete omission of Holeha’s 2015 misconduct case, where he was accused of beating a 68-year-old man during a seatbelt-related traffic stop. Ron Eresman, the victim, claimed Holeha slammed his head into a police car and punched him—allegations that were, of course, dismissed after the presiding officer deemed Eresman’s testimony "unreliable."
Funny how that works.
Yet, during yesterday’s hearing, Holeha’s personnel file was presented as glowing, painting him as an "exemplary officer." No mention of excessive force complaints, no discussion of past disciplinary issues—just a pristine record, scrubbed cleaner than a donut shop after a cop’s lunch break.
The Crocodile Tears Apology Tour
When it came time for Holeha to apologize, he almost mustered up some tears—voice cracking, eyes welling, the whole performance. But just as it seemed he might actually show genuine remorse, his lawyer swooped in to finish the statement, sparing us all the discomfort of watching a grown man fake-cry his way through accountability.
The apology itself? A masterclass in non-apology apologies. No acknowledgment of how his actions eroded public trust, no reflection on the hypocrisy of an officer bending the law for personal gain—just vague regret that he got caught.
The Mysterious Vanished Charges
Here’s where things get really interesting. Holeha was initially facing ten charges. He pleaded guilty to four. The other six? Poof—gone. No explanation, no details, just the usual police act magic trick where inconvenient accusations disappear in a puff of procedural smoke.
And let’s not ignore the elephant in the room: Why was this hearing so hostile to documentation? Signs warned against recording, making it harder for journalists (and the public) to scrutinize the proceedings. If this is the MHPS’s idea of "public and transparent," one shudders to think what they consider secretive.
The Thin Blue Line, or Just a Blue Blanket of Protection?
Holeha’s case raises uncomfortable questions about police culture in Medicine Hat. Specifically: Do officers believe that rank grants immunity?
Get promoted? Congrats! Now you can show up late, skip work, and throw your weight around in court.
Facing consequences? Don’t worry—the system will drop half the charges and pretend your past misconduct never happened.
Holeha’s rapid fall from sergeant to constable (and the accompanying $25,000 pay cut) might look like accountability, but let’s be real—this is a man who spent 20 years on the force, only to immediately abuse his authority the second he got a taste of power. And yet, he’s still employed. Still carrying a badge. Still eligible to pull you over and decide whether you’re "impaired" based on his expert opinion.
Speaking of ‘Expert’ Opinions…
Holeha is one of only two Drug Recognition Experts (DREs) in Medicine Hat. For the uninitiated, DREs are officers trained to determine drug impairment—except, as numerous legal experts and civil liberties groups have pointed out, their methods are about as scientific as a Magic 8-Ball.
Canadian courts have ruled DREs "experts" by default, meaning their subjective opinions can send people to jail without rigorous scrutiny.
Studies show DREs are wrong alarmingly often, misidentifying sober people as high.
Holeha himself has now demonstrated a flexible relationship with ethics and accountability.
So, Medicine Hat residents, ask yourselves: Do you feel safer knowing that an officer with a history of misconduct, deceit, and rank abuse is still out there making life-altering judgment calls on who’s "impaired"?
Conclusion: A Badge, Not a Get-Out-of-Jail-Free Card
At the end of the day, Darren Holeha’s case is a microcosm of everything wrong with police oversight.
Got caught? Admit to the bare minimum.
Past misconduct? Sweep it under the rug.
Public trust? Who needs it when you’ve got the Thin Blue Line?
The MHPS wants us to believe this hearing was about accountability. But when an officer can plead guilty to some charges, ignore the rest, and keep his job—all while the force hides behind "no recording" signs—it’s clear the real message is: "Just trust us."
And given Holeha’s track record, that’s a speeding ticket straight to disbelief. Full Time Position (FTP) straight from the underground…
