Brothers rise to leadership like two of a kind

The brothers look alike, talk alike and, for the most part, think alike.

So it's no surprise that both Kevin and Patrick Kittridge have risen -- albeit almost two decades apart -- to the pinnacle of their careers.

Kevin, 56, followed in the footsteps of his father's side of the family and worked for the Minnesota State Patrol for 30 years. He served as chief from 1989 to '90.

Patrick Kittridge, 54, has worked for Ramsey County for 30 years, the last 23 in the public defender's office, and last month he was named interim chief.

Along with the job, he inherited a staff that has consistently grown smaller. The 31 full-time and 20 part-time attorneys have handled 10,776 cases through August; last year's tally was 19,322 cases.

The office's annual budget -- $6,845,000 this year -- has consistently shrunk, too.

"We've just lost another 2¾ positions this year," Kittridge said. "We lost, I think, 11 full-time-equivalents last year. So our numbers are down, down, down."

He has held the job for just over a month, and while he is still learning the ins and outs of budgets, his dedication to doing more with less has never been higher.

"I believe what's really important is that the office have a clear message about what we stand for in terms of the vigorous defense of the indigent charged in crimes.

"That relates often to the support of your staff, because often vigorous defenses are going to lead to conflict with prosecuting attorneys, with judges, with probation officers, and I think it's the job of the chief to act as an intermediary with the courts," he said recently.

Patrick Kittridge followed in the footsteps of his mother's side of the family. His grandfather was a judge in Anoka County, his uncle, a judge in Ramsey County. He attended William Mitchell College of Law in St. Paul at night and worked the midnight shift at Boys Totem Town. He started working for the public defender's office in 1985 as a law clerk and in 1987 as a staff attorney.

Working in the juvenile system, he saw public defenders become "everything from a surrogate parent to a representative to a guidance counselor" for their clients. He took that to heart.

'He's got the guts'

In an e-mail in June, Kevin Kittridge said of his brother: "He's the bright one, with more guts than a person should have."

In an interview with the two of them, Kevin explained, "I've always thought that those folks that the rest of us would walk by and toss aside, he's got the guts to stand up for them. That's pretty unpopular sometimes.

"Patrick defended Guy Harvey Baker. [Baker was the man who shot and killed St. Paul police officers Tim Jones and Ron Ryan Jr. in 1994.] I was a cop then and several of my colleagues called me and said things like, 'Your brother's got guts.' He'll do the unpopular things. I don't know that I would, so I've always respected that.

"I think that takes more guts than going into the back yard in the dark with a burglar."

But in the same interview, Patrick begged to differ: "I think that's overstating it," he said. "You do your job. I couldn't walk into the back yard in the dark with a gun on my hip looking for a burglar."

Both said it is the independence of their respective jobs that fueled their passion for them.

"When I started, they sent me to Worthington, which was a two-person station," Kevin Kittridge said. "So I was a real raw rookie and I worked by myself at night with no other troopers within 50 miles of me.

"I found that stark independence and that need to be able to solve problems kind of fun, kind of interesting."

Said Patrick Kittridge: "Ironically, one thing criminal defense lawyers really like is the independence of being a criminal defense lawyer -- the fact that your office can't tell you how to handle given cases because it's a relationship between you and your client.

"It can be fairly lonely sometimes between you and your client. The state has a lot more support ... and sometimes when you're licking your wounds there's nobody there to salve them for you."

Third-generation trooper

The brothers grew up in Worthington, where their father worked for the State Patrol. In the mid-1960s, the family moved to Mankato. Kevin was the third-generation Kittridge in the patrol, following in the footsteps of great-uncle Bill Kittridge, who was hired as the patrol's 13th trooper in 1931. Bill's nephews Jack and Jerry joined the troopers in the early 1950s. Jerry, rose to the post of assistant chief.

Kevin Kittridge didn't have aspirations of becoming a cop when he was a boy. He earned a business administration degree from what is now Minnesota State University, Mankato, and admits that he was pretty aimless until a buddy invited him to take the test to become a trooper.

"I figured I'd give it some time and see if I liked it, see if I fit," he said. "I got lucky. I found a passion."

Kevin Kittridge was made chief in 1989 but after a little more than a year in the job he was removed from the post after Arne Carlson became governor. Still, he spent another 13 years on the job and was a major when he retired in 2003.

It wasn't long afterward that a friend told him he should apply for a job with the Justice Department. He was sent to Sri Lanka to work with the national police force, then worked in the Philippines. He has been back in Sri Lanka since the first of the year.

"I've got 80,000 cops," he said. "Most of Asia is national police forces. This one is 80,000, yet their skill level is very, very low and their corruption level is very, very high."

His job is to help the police develop their capacity to investigate crimes and to deal with issues of corruption, in-custody deaths and human rights violations.

"Not to investigate them," he said, "but to try to put in place a system of policy and procedure and action that lessens the opportunities for those things to occur."

Again, it's all about the independence.

Kittridge could talk for hours about his job, but again, it's the independence he loves.

"My boss is 10,000 miles away from me," he said.

Pat Pheifer • 612-741-4992