Bernard Bailey Kerik and his security detail converged on West 44th Street and Broadway by 11:30 the night of December 31, 2001. Accompanied by a collection of guests and members of his family, the 40th commissioner of the New York City Police Department was at Manhattan’s Crossroads of the World soaking in not only the last remaining minutes of 2001 but of his commissionership as well.

Mr. Kerik had become a popular figure around our city and around the world since the terrorist attacks on September 11, 2001. In an instant, he became, like Mayor Giuliani, a calming force in a city faced with unprecedented tragedy.

To those who have followed the rising arc of his career, it came as no surprise when President Bush announced Friday his selection of Mr. Kerik to head the Department of Homeland Security after the current position’s occupant, Tom Ridge, steps down in February. Pending confirmation by the Senate, Mr. Kerik will become the first New York City police officer to rise to the level of Cabinet secretary. His embodiment of Mr. Bush’s doctrine of personal responsibility is a modern success story; a Horatio Alger figure whose humble beginnings had given him every excuse to fail, yet determination, ambition, and commitment proved otherwise.

That night in Times Square, however, only four months after the attacks, he seemed reflective. His round face was often caught smiling at the sight of a friend. His watery eyes, just as often, darted skyward, seeing the Waterford crystal ball that had once been so high now poised to move in his direction.

I had worked the New Year’s Eve detail nearly every year since my career began as an NYPD police officer. Often, the celebration is enjoyable as the men and women of New York’s Finest mingle over blue or metals barriers with those who come from around the globe. This night, however, I spent less time with world travelers than I did with the man born in Paterson, N.J., at a hospital named for the patron saint of police officers.

I had been assigned to the corner where the commissioner was to be spending his evening. I predicted that a relaxed night was not in the cards, and I knew at once that the standard, “If the boss doesn’t see me, I can’t get in trouble” reasoning was not going to even be an option.

Time ticked away…11:56 turned into 11:57, which quickly went from 11:58 to 11:59. As the most inconsequential “guest” at his gathering, I had managed so far to stay below the radar of the commissioner’s notice.

With seconds left in his tenure as police commissioner – the term expired at midnight – he gazed up at the descending ball one last time before turning in my direction and extending his hand. It seems needless to say that he had certainly caught me off guard. There was no press and no fanfare to corrupt his intentions. Standing no more than 10 feet off to his left side, Mr. Kerik recognized the collar brass denoting the precinct I worked, which was the same place he had began his career a decade-and-a-half before. During the brief exchange, I expressed that I was grateful for his service during such a difficult time for the department and the city. He humbly dismissed my praise and thanked me instead, a genuine appreciation intended not only for me but my 36,000 colleagues as well.

The half-million New Yorkers and out-of-town guests counted down the last seconds of the old year just as they had come to do. Within minutes, it seemed like the streets were once again empty and the party had ended. Turning to leave, I could not help but think that the final act Bernard Bailey Kerik carried out as 40th police commissioner of the NYPD was to shake the hand of a cop he had never met before.

Mr. Coll is a New York Police Department officer assigned to the Emergency Service Unit.