He graduated from Miami Senior High School, then enlisted in the Air Force where he started college courses. He later earned a bachelor of science degree from Florida International University, then headed to the Dominican Republic for medical school. A year later, Gutierrez was out of money. He quit school, came home and joined the Miami Police Department in 1978.

`DIFFICULT TIME'

Within four years, he was working undercover with an elite, 12-member narcotics squad charged with squashing the relentless drug trade of the ''cocaine cowboys'' era.

''This was a really difficult time for everybody. Every day we went out there, it was like going to war, and you never knew if you were going to make it home,'' he says. ``Stressful? These guys were carrying around machine guns. They were armed up to their teeth.''

He was an unassuming guy who worked the streets in fancy rental cars and hooptie sedans, the cast-offs of dope boys. He donned straw hats, fake beards and sometimes carried kilos and cash.

''Working undercover, he had a great gift of gab. But he was also really cool, not bringing too much attention to himself. He wasn't loud or rambunctious but a good actor,'' says Miami Police Maj. Armando Guzman. ``But it was also common knowledge that he wanted to become a doctor.''

HIGH-PROFILE CASES

In 1984, the Florida Retail Federation named him law enforcement officer of the year. Between June 1983 and May 1984, Gutierrez had made more than 100 arrests and confiscated $4 million in narcotics and $500,000 in cash and counterfeit bills.

His case files included the arrest of Rosie Ruiz, the dethroned Boston Marathon champion who cheated to complete the race. She later moved to South Florida and was caught brokering a cocaine deal in secretly taped phone conversations with Gutierrez. He also took down Fidel Castro's sister, Juanita, for selling prescription pills over the counter at her drug store.

After 18 months working in internal affairs, he left the force in order to finish medical school in the Dominican Republic. He then practiced family medicine in Puerto Rico before returning to South Florida in 2005.

`THE RIGHT TIME'

In 2006, Gutierrez became director of Miami Dade College's Physician Assistant Program, a two-year curriculum. Last year, after meeting with Brummitt and Annette Gibson, a professional colleague, he joined the effort to open the clinic.

''Pete is a mover and a shaker, but most importantly, he is a physician. He was able to give us the clarity and understanding of how to put together a clinic,'' says Gibson, a professor of nursing at Miami Dade College who coordinates the rescue mission's healthcare services. ``He came at absolutely the right time.''

The small clinic, open weekdays, is manned by a group of volunteers: Gutierrez, physician assistants, a pediatrician, a podiatrist, gastroenterologist, and medical and nursing students. There is one paid staff member, who is in charge of coordinating patient care.

The clinic will operate on a $100,000 budget funded through grants, donations and in-kind services.

QUICK DIAGNOSIS

Tito Oropesa, 63, a two-pack-a-day smoker who used to dabble in crack cocaine, walked into the clinic to see about a rash. He lifted his T-shirt, unveiling a red band of pimples across his lower back that had been there more than a week.

''This looks like shingles,'' Gutierrez says almost instantly, then recommended a complete examination. ``In the meantime, I need you to slow down with the cigarettes.''

Much of the doctor's job is to navigate the moving landscape of homelessness and helplessness. It's sort of like detective work, as Gutierrez tries to decipher how tragedy and circumstances have physically affected his patients. He must deal with patients whose diseases are compounded by drugs and booze and guilt and bad decisions.

Already, he has diagnosed patients with hypertension, pneumonia, diabetes and sexually transmitted diseases.

`A BLESSING'

And then there's Willie Rice. Twenty-seven days out of prison, homeless and a bit scared, he has come to the clinic with a bag of empty prescription bottles and complaining of sharp stomach cramps, blood in his vomit, and soreness around old knife wounds from a dice game gone bad.

After a half-hour of poking and prodding, a gentle lecture on smoking and some tough questions, Rice walked out with appointments for gastritis, prostatitis, glucose and cholesterol tests.

He also walked out with hope.

''This place is such a blessing. I don't have to go far to find out what's wrong with me,'' says Rice, 48. ``I was just going to pray on my pain to go away.''

Join the discussion

The Miami Herald is pleased to provide this opportunity to share information, experiences and observations about what's in the news. Some of the comments may be reprinted elsewhere in the site or in the newspaper. We encourage lively, open debate on the issues of the day, and ask that you refrain from profanity, hate speech, personal comments and remarks that are off point. In order to post comments, you must be a registered user of MiamiHerald.com. Your username will show along with the comments you post. Thank you for taking the time to offer your thoughts.

     Showing: Oldest first Newest first Most-recommended first Least-recommended first

@Nyx.AuthorDisplayName@ wrote on @Nyx.PostedAtTime@:

@Nyx.repliedToText@

@Nyx.replyAnswerText@

Reply to this Comment @Nyx.Recommender@ @Nyx.AbuseReporter@