Mom thanks Huntington Beach police for kindness and compassion shown to her teen with autism

Logan Mundt is an escape artist. Even while surrounded by his mother, his brother and half a dozen police officers, the 17-year-old boy managed to slip outside and wander across the street.

“Where’s Logan?” came his mom’s familiar refrain.

Francine Mundt briskly checked GPS on her cellphone, which tracks Logan’s. And then she and a couple of officers rounded him up from a nearby sidewalk.

It was just another day in the life of the Mundt family – although Logan’s getaways usually don’t occur at a police station.

Logan has severe autism. With limited language, he mostly communicates by grunting and screaming. He rarely follows directions and, simply put, wants what he wants.

Ironically, this sort of scenario was exactly what brought Mundt and her sons to the Huntington Beach Police Department on a recent afternoon. Despite windows nailed shut and doors key-locked from the inside, Logan vanishes from his house on a regular basis.

Again and again, officers have plucked up Logan, delivering him safely home. Always, Mundt said, they greet her with friendly smiles and warm words.

“I love that police officers know my son by name, but I also hate it,” Mundt wryly noted.

As a show of gratitude, she and her two sons dropped by the station with a spread of goodies so massive it could last for – well, maybe a day.

“We have a nose for treats,” Officer Irma Lamas said with a chuckle.

“It will all be gone within hours,” agreed Officer Mike Dexter, surveying the tables lined with doughnuts, Clif Bars, potato chips and candy.

Local baker wireacookie.com contributed cookies, each bearing the image of a Huntington Beach police badge. California Pizza Kitchen donated a towering stack of pizzas, while Starbucks chipped in boxes of coffee.

“Considering everything you do for us, it’s not nearly enough,” Mundt said in her “thank you” speech. “You guys have been unbelievable. You never, ever judge me. I would judge me.”

Logan has been bolting from his northeast Huntington Beach home for years.

“I will get a call from an officer saying, ‘We just saw Logan on Beach and Heil.’ I say, ‘Yes, I know. I’m following him on GPS,’” said Mundt – who now allows her son some independence, but trails him in her car.

Mundt has awoken to calls from law enforcement around Orange County and beyond. “Logan is a genius at Google maps and bus schedules,” she said. “He can end up miles away from home.”

Of all the officers she has dealt with, those in Huntington Beach respond to Logan with the greatest compassion, Mundt asserted: “Other cities are not as friendly.”

Officer Peter Glynn noted that his department receives extensive training in handling people with mental disabilities.

“We bring in actors and practice: ‘What do you do if the person goes the opposite direction? What do you do if the person doesn’t obey orders?’” he said.

Logan does not understand social norms – a deficit that could lead to disaster. For example, at the police station, Logan brushed an officer out of his path with a slight shove, ordering, “Stand back!”

Officers learn how to recognize autism by body movements and commonalities such as ever-present headphones, said Officer Tommy Higgs. They also learn how to de-escalate situations. “Police presence, obviously, can cause a lot of extra anxiety for people with autism,” he said.

Inspired by her many personal experiences, Mundt started a nonprofit called FRAAT – First Responders Autism Awareness Training – to organize similar workshops for other law enforcement agencies and emergency workers. She also designs illustrated cards for communication with nonverbal people. The pictures offer cues such as “look at me,” with an arrow pointed toward eyes.

Mundt gave birth to her sons 10 months apart in 2001. Shortly after 9-11, her husband deployed with the Navy to Afghanistan – and continued to serve overseas almost nonstop for the next eight years. The couple eventually split.

Meanwhile, Logan was diagnosed with autism at around age 3. His schooling would be an ordeal for everyone concerned – his mom, his teachers and Logan himself.

By day, he refused to cooperate with mundane tasks such as getting dressed in the morning or staying seated in his classroom. By night, he continually awoke his mother with loud demands.

Home-schooled for the past three years, Logan has grown bigger and stronger without maturing behaviorally.

“He’s a handful,” Mundt said. “There’s never a break.”

Hunter Mundt, 18, a senior at Marina High, also has paid a price for his brother’s disability. “It can be brutal – chasing Logan down the street, chasing Logan through a restaurant while he’s yelling at me, always on edge,” Hunter said.

But sometimes after yet another fiasco, Hunter added, he and his mom find release in laughter.

“We joke about how people react to Logan’s meltdowns: ‘Did you see their facial expressions?’”

Sudden disappearances – or “eloping,” as it is known in the autism community – began young for Logan.

“It’s an obsession with him: ‘How can I outsmart the system this time?’” Francine Mundt said. “He’s broken windows. He’s used a butter knife to remove the front doorknob.”

In 2008, Logan ran away from the playground at Lake View Elementary – an incident reported by the Orange County Register. He wound up inside an apartment, where he stripped off his clothes and greeted the shocked resident naked.

Today, such antics can seem all the more alarming. Almost an adult, Logan is 6-foot-4 with a 5 o’clock shadow.

A few months ago, Logan meandered off to, ironically, Lake View Elementary and lurked outside. “The school was in full panic – a lock down, the whole works,” Mundt told the officers as they munched pizza. “But you guys were great. You really get it.”

One officer that day went a step beyond diffusing fears. When he noticed Logan staring at his wristwatch in fascination, the officer removed the watch and handed it over. Logan has worn it every day since. “He sleeps in it,” Mundt said.

After another elopement, an officer sat with Logan in his bedroom for a while to help calm him down. She later returned with freshly purchased books as a gift for the teen.

Both officers requested anonymity, saying they did not want to be singled out for their generosity.

“I don’t know how you guys are so good,” Mundt told her audience at the station.

Officer Jeremy Grannis pointed out that Huntington Beach Police Department employees, too, look after loved ones with disabilities.

“A lot of people in our department have kids with special needs,” Grannis said. “This hits close to home.”