Police Stories

[mossrose]

The Attempted Hit...

I've always been an adrenaline junkie, and the police department provided many opportunities. When we had a motorcycle patrol, I was in... when we formed a SWAT team, I was in... when there was hostage negotiation training, I was in... I always tried to take advantage of any additional training or seminars or certifications or special assignment opportunities.

When we formed a multi-jurisdictional drug enforcement team, I was on it. At the time, for some reason, drugs were coming from a cartel of sorts out of Chicago, though we were obviously much further away in Texas. We were doing the appropriate "catching the little fish" and turning them to catch the "bigger fish", and with the help of a really scroungy DEA agent (think Maynard G Krebs) who was EXCELLENT at his game, we were getting close to a syndicate in Chicago.

One of the "midstream" guys we caught was absolutely adamant that he would "do the time" and "I ain't no snitch". I remember him sitting there studying our faces, saying "I'm gonna remember you, and you're gonna regret ever messing with us". A high dollar lawyer appeared, and managed to arrange bail, and "Bugsy" was free to go, pending a trial later for possession of narcotics for sale.

Then one night, following a long double shift (I had worked 8-4 and 4-12) I went home to my apartment across the street from the PD. This was the "basement apartment" I spoke about, before I got married and we "upgraded" to the 3rd floor. I was absolutely worn out, and got home, took of my shoes, shirt and pants, and just collapsed on my bed, but I was "too tired to sleep". Back in those days, TV stations "signed off" after midnight or 1 AM, so TV was not an option, and I just lay there trying to get to sleep.

Finally, about 1:30 AM, I decided I was stinkier than tired, and decided to take a shower. I took a nice long hot-as-I-could-stand-it shower to clear my head (congested during pollen season) and relax my muscles. When I got out of the shower, I grabbed a towel and was drying off, when I heard the distinct sound of glass breaking, followed by five loud gunshots - sounding more like shotgun than handgun or rifle. (yeah, I was rather an expert in that area)

I ran to the drawer in the kitchen (right next to the bathroom) to grab my backup gun (my duty weapon was in the bedroom from which all the noise had come) and quickly "cleared" my apartment - front door was closed and chained, check - nobody in the living room, check - had already checked the kitchen when I grabbed my backup gun ---- that left my bedroom.

I turned on the light, and immediately noticed the smell of gunpowder freshly spent, the broken window just above my bed (the "basement apartments" had windows about 5 feet off the floor, and outside, those windows were at ground level). Smoke from the gun blasts was dissipating, and there were four large "torn up places" in my bed where I had been lying.

Somebody was pounding on my door yelling "Are you ALRIGHT?" as the neighbors had been awaked by the gunshots. I could here sirens as officers were converging on my apartment. One of my neighbors started yelling "65 Ford Fairlane, light blue", and the first officer on the scene assumed that was the hit vehicle, and put out an alert. Taking a deep breath, and trying to calm down, I turned to Larry, and confirmed - you saw the vehicle? He confirmed "I looked out my window (his apartment was directly above mine) and I saw two men run and dive into a light blue 65-ish Ford Fairlane and zoom off". So, obviously, at least 3 persons.

WIDE AWAKE now, and adrenalin flowing, I got dressed (civvy clothes), grabbed my duty weapon, and jumped into a patrol car with a senior officer, who was determined to find the shooters.

It turned into an amazingly quiet night, little to no traffic, no leads or trails to follow. Seemed to go on forever, quiet, fighting to stay awake...

About an hour before sunrise, a neighboring PD on our frequency called our PD, asking "you're looking for a light blue 65 Ford Fairlane?" Our dispatch confirmed. He asked, "would you settle for a 66 Ford Falcon, light blue, occupied 3 times?"

My senior officer responded "worth checking out, heading your way", and we roared off to the neighboring city limits, getting location, finding out that the vehicle was parked next to a boat shed, under a big tree. The owner had seen it, and called the police, who suspected it might be "our guys", and did an "observe and report only". Sure enough, their SWAT officer, using "starlight optics" night vision equipment (very primitive compared to what we use today) confirmed "occupied 3 times, all appear asleep".

One of our officers (A class III Gun Dealer) actually had an authentic fully functioning licensed WWII Tommy Gun with the 100 round drum, and he quietly worked his way to the front of the vehicle, aiming the Tommy at the bad guys through the windshield, while the rest of us approached from the rear and sides. A couple of guys with M-16s were on both sides of the vehicle, all mindful of "line of fire", and he sun was just about to come up. The driver was the first to open his eyes, and as he surveyed the scene, he smartly and slowly put his hands on the top of the steering wheel, indicating "no fight". One of our guys at the passenger window nudged the guy in the passenger seat with the nose of his M-16, and that guy also woke up to a not-so-pretty sight, and slid his hands up. The guy in the rear apparently saw what was going on and was pretending to be asleep, slowly reaching for one of the numerous long guns laying on the floor board in the back seat. He looked up in time to see two M-16 muzzles poking in his open back window, and also decided to "hands up".

Long story short, all three were taken into custody without incident, and taken to County Jail for processing.

Still running on about 36 hours of no sleep, I rode with my senior officer to the County Lockup just to get the satisfaction that booking went well and they were actually in the slammer.

I was getting some really bad coffee, when my senior officer came over to me and said, "Poke, you gotta take a look at this".

He led me over to the table where the wallets and personal possessions of the three men were laid out for processing and recording, and pointed to a newspaper clipping from one of the wallets. It was a picture of me and one of my Sheriff buddies (and another guy I didn't know at the time) from the multijurisdictional taskforce, receiving a commendation for a big drug bust a few months prior. I have to admit I had a slight shiver run through my spine as I saw the red magic marker circle around my head in the picture, as well as a circle around the head of my Sheriff's deputy buddy.

I looked at my senior officer, speechless, and probably somewhat ghostly, and he said "FBI is already on the way, these guys are serious Chicago Mobsters".

Sometimes, law enforcement is NOT so much fun!

(ever since that incident, it was in my mind that maybe law enforcement wasn't such a good thing for a family man)

But look at how God made you stinky so you got out of bed to take a shower and weren't killed!

[Cow Poke]

But look at how God made you stinky so you got out of bed to take a shower and weren't killed!

Yeah, and that whole concept of "too tired to sleep", as well!

[Cow Poke]

But look at how God made you stinky so you got out of bed to take a shower and weren't killed!

And the guy with the Tommy gun in front of the car -- when The Untouchables came out, I sent him this picture of "Elliot Ness", and told him "that's what you looked like that morning!"

tommy.jpg

[Cow Poke]

Sometimes just a funny incident resulting from a crisis situation...

The report was a break-in at a local drive-through liquor barn. Usually, it's just kids, and they steal a 12 pack of Bud or whatever.

I met another unit at the location, and, sure enough, there was a side door kicked in. We entered very carefully, looking around, and we could hear other units arriving, one of them radioing "I've got the perimeter". We looked around quite a bit, found some stuff knocked over, evidence that somebody had been there, but no sign of life.

We holstered our weapons and began looking at the damage to the door, to verify that it had, in fact, been kicked in, and seeing how we could secure it for the night.

Suddenly we hear a voice behind us, sounds like a very young man, say "I've got a gun and I'll shoot".

I looked at my partner, and we both put our hands up about chest high, and slowly turned around to see who "had us".

The kid couldn't have been more than 14 years old, and did, in fact, have a Colt 1911ACP semi-automatic handgun aimed at us.

My partner had a better visual on the gun than I did, and he kinda cocked his head like he was looking at the gun from the side, then said, "you can't shoot us kid, the safety is still on".
(yeah, I've seen that line - or similar - in TV shows and movies since, maybe they got it from my partner )

The kid looked at the gun, aimed it at the ground, and pulled the trigger, discharging one very large powerful .45 man killer slug into a keg of beer. It scared him so bad that he threw the gun away, then just stood there scared to death, and my partner calmly walked over and turned the kid around and cuffed him.

Other officers came running in with guns drawn, and seeing things under control, asked, "anybody hurt"?

My partner, always the wise guy, looked over at the keg of beer and said, "just that guy, and it looks like he's about all bled out".


(first offense, honor roll student, bad home situation - ended up a couple years later having his record expunged and became a capable law enforcement officer - he loved to tell the story - "when asked the inevitable question - have you ever killed anybody - "I answer - just a beer-bellied little fat guy")

[Cow Poke]

I'm often asked why I got into Police Work...

I grew up in a family of 9 kids, the 4th of 4 boys, and older than all the girls.
When my oldest brother left for the Navy, my next brother left for the Marines, and my next brother left to "experience the 60s".

I was left at home with a house full of girls.

I found all kinds of excuses not to be home, and when it was time to go to High School - that was on the other side of the world from where we lived.
During my sophomore year, I tended to gravitate to the more "colorful" individuals, kinda believing that I could get away with just about anything "over there" because that was a whole different group of people than I knew "at home".

I ended up frequently in trouble, but always (or mostly always) managed to keep it from hitting home. But I was heading down the wrong path, for sure, having come from a very conservative fundamentalist Christian home.

At the end of my Sophomore year, my principal called me into his office and had a "sit down" with me. He said, "Mr Poke, you have two choices - you can drop out of school right now, or you can transfer to the (newly built High School on the other end of town), but you are NOT coming back to school here next year". I was literally flunking out of High School, and I said, "fine, I'll drop out of school". He said, "great, you can discuss that with your mother, she's sitting in my waiting room".

LONG STORY short, I ended up enrolling in the High School "at the other end of town" determined that I needed to get my grades up, which would require less "outside school activity". I ended up doing both - managed to keep my grades up, but still find ways to get in trouble outside school, but at least at THIS school, I didn't have any brothers or sisters to run home to rat me out.

Then I started getting in trouble with the law. Maybe this is why I managed to get along with Mark so much in a previous story - because I seemed to have the knack for getting in JUST enough trouble to interact with cops, but not get arrested. I seemed to know where to draw the line, but I loved pushing buttons. But I also discovered there were some really MEAN cops out there. In fact, I found myself getting to the point where I hated cops - they just seemed to be looking for excuses to push me around or make me mad. One of them, in particular, seemed to "have it out" for me, and was constantly in my business.

Somehow, I managed to graduate in the top of my class - with honors, and I was starting to learn how to behave myself better.

Then this one mean hateful cop came up to me about a week after graduation, and said "you really don't like me, do you?" I was honest, and admitted I really couldn't stand him. He asked, "you never figured it out, did you?" Then he explained that the reason he was so hard on me was because he saw himself in me, and realized I had potential, and wanted to make sure I stayed out of trouble. I laughed, and said, "so you're like my guardian angel?" He didn't smile - he said, "you don't know half the story".

He explained that he had a son my age who grew up in their "good Christian home" and he was on a fast track to Hell. He said that he finally had a talk with his son, where they seemed to be communicating for the first time ever, and his son finally told him "I get it dad, you're just looking out for me, and I promise I can straighten up". Later that same night, three boys were "playing chicken" on the railroad tracks with an oncoming train - seeing who would jump off the tracks last, and TWO of the boys were killed, and one survived. His son was one of the two boys who were killed. My immediate older brother was the kid who survived.

He told me that he felt hate in his heart for me because my brother lived, and his own son had died, but the more that he got to know me, the more he saw possibilities, and "something there" that was worth redemption. Then he handed me an application for the Police Department on which he was serving. When I figured out what it was, he said, "if you think you can do a better job than me, here's your chance to prove it".

For the next 5 years, I did my best.

[mossrose]

[Cow Poke]

....

He told me that he felt hate in his heart for me because my brother lived, and his own son had died, but the more that he got to know me, the more he saw possibilities, and "something there" that was worth redemption. Then he handed me an application for the Police Department on which he was serving. When I figured out what it was, he said, "if you think you can do a better job than me, here's your chance to prove it".

For the next 5 years, I did my best.

I forgot this detail -- one of the questions he asked was, "tell me how many of your high school buddies are not dead or in prison".

THAT was quite a sobering question - with the exception of Roy - a fellow cop - not many. And maybe that's why I never attended a single High School Reunion, though this year would have been the Big FIVE OH.

[Cow Poke]

Shenanigans...

In my Sophomore year of High School, the boys took "shop". Shop included sections in Auto, Welding, Woodworking, Drafting, for example.

Our Welding shop was on the second floor of the Industrial Arts building, and was a pretty big room, and the instructor liked to hunker down in his little cubby hole at the front of the class close to his little coffee pot, only making "inspection rounds" after giving instructions on projects.

Johnson and I were teamed together as "buddies - everybody had to have a buddy.

One day, we had been all caught up with our projects, and were just looking out the 2nd floor window, and saw a police car back onto the lawn right up to a fire hydrant directly below our window. He then walked across the street and began issuing parking tickets to cars parked in the student lot without proper parking permits.

Johnson and I decided that was not nice, and noticed that the oxygen/acetylene rig was parked right by that window, and had a long enough hose to reach down to the first floor. We found a length of chain, got somebody else to stand by as lookout, and we snuck outside and hid behind the police car. We wrapped the chain around his rear axel, then around the fire hydrant, and welded the links together. They guys upstairs retracted the hose, and we snuck back to class.

It seemed FOREVER before the cop came back to his car, and even then, when he got in, he started the car, but didn't try to move. Must have been writing reports or something, we couldn't see.

The bell rang, and another class was coming in, but we stayed to watch, and soon other students gathered round. We convinced some of the guys to keep the instructor distracted, which really wasn't difficult to do, and finally we could tell that he had put the car in drive, moved about 4 to 6 inches forward, then jolted to a stop. He pressed the gas pedal harder, making the back wheels spin, throwing grass and mud onto the building. He got out, looked at the back of the car, took his hat off and threw it angrily on the ground and let out quite an impressive string of cussing.

We had seen enough, and decided it was time to mosey on, but he looked up just as we were leaving, and MAY have caught us looking out the window, but we were sure he'd never recognize us. We hoped. We prayed.

Oddly enough, we never heard another word about that.

Until years later.

As I was in the final stages of being hired as a police officer, had completed all the background checks, physical ability, agility tests, written tests, psychological evaluation (quiet, Rouge!) and interviews by the Chief, Mayor, City Manager, and it was up to one last guy - the Safety Director. He was a tough old Italian guy who made you think of The Godfather, and almost never smiled. I stood at attention, while he thumbed through my employment packet, looking at every page, chewing on a stubby fat cigar.

After what seemed like forever, he closed the folder, and said, "lemme ask one thing". He paused, and said, "and I want you to know, I'm giving my approval for your hiring, so your answer won't affect my decision one way or another". I kinda swallowed hard, had he proceeded to ask, "did you REALLY weld a police car to a fire hydrant in [anytown], Texas?

I kinda paused, and thought hard, and finally asked, "is that what it says, sir?" He said, "it says you were listed as a suspect - you and a guy named Johnson".

He finally laughed, and said, "you won't be doing any of that here, will you?" I said, "no sir, not at all" and he shook my hand and said "let's go to the swearing in".