Police Limit rocks.
Buyer Beware...
8 years ago
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Another great cartoon from Garey McKee.
Why do so many papers waste space on that Doonesbury guy when Garey McKee is available?
Police Limit rocks.
Police Limit rocks.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
On snow...and getting it done.
So this week-end, our area got socked with a massive winter storm. Everything was closed--government, stores, schools the Friday before (and the Monday coming)and everybody was warned for days to prepare to stay in.
I wish I could have stayed in, but us cops are essential. That means that like power crews, tree-removal crews, hospital workers and (ugh!) firefighters, we need to show up no matter how bad it is. It sucks, and it's hard sometimes, but people need us and we knew that this was part of it when we applied for the jobs. It's one of the things no one thinks about when they see us taking it easy and getting paid well on the nice days.
Our area got between two and feet of snow in a day and a half. I needed to make sure that I could get in to work because I live 50 miles away from my worksite so I went out into the beginning of the storm the night before and stayed in a motel closer to town at my own expense. No one will ever pay me back for that--it's just something I had to suck up because it's still my responsibility to get in to work and calling in and crying that I couldn't get out because of the snow wasn't an option. (And a note to some of my lazy-ass co-workers, including a few supervisors: Calling in "sick" at the last minute is bullshit, too. Everyone knows that you useless slaps just didn't want to come in, and those of us who did come in like we were all supposed to will remember who put their work on us this week-end.)
No thanks goes out to the motel, a Days Inn that I expected better from. They put me in a room knowing that I needed sleep so I could pull an extended 16-hour night shift later, and then they put a bunch of people in the adjoining room who laughed and swore and made noise all night. The walls were so thin that I heard everything that they said and did, and calls to the desk brought no relief. The desk didn't even call that room like they promised to do--I'd have heard their phone ring through those thin-assed walls. And if that wasn't bad enough, the motel's own maids started yelling back and forth in Spanish to each other at about 8AM, totally oblivious to the fact that people in motels might want to sleep. And of course the power was out, so no hot shower for me, and damned little heat after a spell. And of course the front desk woman totally refused to adjust the bill or do anything else to make amends. I even suggested that I'd call it even if I could stay a few hours past check-out time and try to catch a bit more sleep before reporting in, and she refused that offer too, even though without power she couldn't check anyone else in or out. Fuck you, Days Inn. Next time I have to respond over there because you need help with some drunk or unruly guests, I'll remember this.
It took more than two hours to drive what should have taken less than one. I ran in 4WD the whole way at about 30-35 mph. The roads were in the process of being plowed but far from clean, and the snow was still coming down hard. Other than plow trucks, I was almost the only one out there. The power was out for miles, and the only thing I found open was one lone 7-11, and frankly that was a surprise.
I started work early to fill in for someone who never showed. If I hadn't, the officer from the previous night who'd been held over to cover the slot would have had to work the whole double shift. I started out having to deal with a mess because some idiots decided that they were going to move their whole extended family in the middle of this blizzard and driven a caravan that included a mid-sized U-Haul truck with a car-hauling trailer behind it out into this record snowstorm. They then got the truck and trailer stuck on the ramp from one highway to another and then had the nerve to get upset when they found out that they'd be getting billed for the large wrecker that it was going to take to get them out of the mess that they created. And since I had nothing better to do while waiting on that wrecker, I inquired as to where the car seats where for the infant and two kids under five that were riding in one of the cars. "Oh, they be packed way back in that truck," I was told. So I stroked them with tickets for each of the unrestrained kids and made them open up the U-Haul and dig the seats out. They couldn't understand why, even though the only reason I was here was because they'd just had a crash. It should be legal to just beat some people.
Two hours later, that was cleared up, and I spent the rest of the long night finding and reporting trees and power lines down and shooing drunk pedestrians off of our roads. The bar crowd was in full swing and they weren't letting a lack of cars keep them off the roads. Two other officers actually arrested drunks for being in the roadway and refusing to go back inside, but I was able to get my drunks to at least pretend to comply until I was gone.
Eighteen hours later, I was released to drive home. Again, I was virtually the only vehicle that wasn't a snowplow on the highway. And as I clawed my way in 4WD up to my house out in the country a bit, I pulled up to find my own 100-foot driveway buried under 36 inches of snow, plus the bunch that the county plow had shoved into the end of it. It took another hour of digging just to make a hole big enough to back my vehicle into, and then it was time for bed.
I'm going back in tonight. And if I see that Al Gore guy, I'm going to kick his ass in the name of his so-called "Global Warming".
Oh--and don't mistake me for someone who loves his department. I have a lot of issues with my department right now and we're not exactly the best of friends. However this isn't the time for any of that. This is the time to put that stuff aside and get the job done. That's what being a professional police officer is all about.
I wish I could have stayed in, but us cops are essential. That means that like power crews, tree-removal crews, hospital workers and (ugh!) firefighters, we need to show up no matter how bad it is. It sucks, and it's hard sometimes, but people need us and we knew that this was part of it when we applied for the jobs. It's one of the things no one thinks about when they see us taking it easy and getting paid well on the nice days.
Our area got between two and feet of snow in a day and a half. I needed to make sure that I could get in to work because I live 50 miles away from my worksite so I went out into the beginning of the storm the night before and stayed in a motel closer to town at my own expense. No one will ever pay me back for that--it's just something I had to suck up because it's still my responsibility to get in to work and calling in and crying that I couldn't get out because of the snow wasn't an option. (And a note to some of my lazy-ass co-workers, including a few supervisors: Calling in "sick" at the last minute is bullshit, too. Everyone knows that you useless slaps just didn't want to come in, and those of us who did come in like we were all supposed to will remember who put their work on us this week-end.)
No thanks goes out to the motel, a Days Inn that I expected better from. They put me in a room knowing that I needed sleep so I could pull an extended 16-hour night shift later, and then they put a bunch of people in the adjoining room who laughed and swore and made noise all night. The walls were so thin that I heard everything that they said and did, and calls to the desk brought no relief. The desk didn't even call that room like they promised to do--I'd have heard their phone ring through those thin-assed walls. And if that wasn't bad enough, the motel's own maids started yelling back and forth in Spanish to each other at about 8AM, totally oblivious to the fact that people in motels might want to sleep. And of course the power was out, so no hot shower for me, and damned little heat after a spell. And of course the front desk woman totally refused to adjust the bill or do anything else to make amends. I even suggested that I'd call it even if I could stay a few hours past check-out time and try to catch a bit more sleep before reporting in, and she refused that offer too, even though without power she couldn't check anyone else in or out. Fuck you, Days Inn. Next time I have to respond over there because you need help with some drunk or unruly guests, I'll remember this.
It took more than two hours to drive what should have taken less than one. I ran in 4WD the whole way at about 30-35 mph. The roads were in the process of being plowed but far from clean, and the snow was still coming down hard. Other than plow trucks, I was almost the only one out there. The power was out for miles, and the only thing I found open was one lone 7-11, and frankly that was a surprise.
I started work early to fill in for someone who never showed. If I hadn't, the officer from the previous night who'd been held over to cover the slot would have had to work the whole double shift. I started out having to deal with a mess because some idiots decided that they were going to move their whole extended family in the middle of this blizzard and driven a caravan that included a mid-sized U-Haul truck with a car-hauling trailer behind it out into this record snowstorm. They then got the truck and trailer stuck on the ramp from one highway to another and then had the nerve to get upset when they found out that they'd be getting billed for the large wrecker that it was going to take to get them out of the mess that they created. And since I had nothing better to do while waiting on that wrecker, I inquired as to where the car seats where for the infant and two kids under five that were riding in one of the cars. "Oh, they be packed way back in that truck," I was told. So I stroked them with tickets for each of the unrestrained kids and made them open up the U-Haul and dig the seats out. They couldn't understand why, even though the only reason I was here was because they'd just had a crash. It should be legal to just beat some people.
Two hours later, that was cleared up, and I spent the rest of the long night finding and reporting trees and power lines down and shooing drunk pedestrians off of our roads. The bar crowd was in full swing and they weren't letting a lack of cars keep them off the roads. Two other officers actually arrested drunks for being in the roadway and refusing to go back inside, but I was able to get my drunks to at least pretend to comply until I was gone.
Eighteen hours later, I was released to drive home. Again, I was virtually the only vehicle that wasn't a snowplow on the highway. And as I clawed my way in 4WD up to my house out in the country a bit, I pulled up to find my own 100-foot driveway buried under 36 inches of snow, plus the bunch that the county plow had shoved into the end of it. It took another hour of digging just to make a hole big enough to back my vehicle into, and then it was time for bed.
I'm going back in tonight. And if I see that Al Gore guy, I'm going to kick his ass in the name of his so-called "Global Warming".
Oh--and don't mistake me for someone who loves his department. I have a lot of issues with my department right now and we're not exactly the best of friends. However this isn't the time for any of that. This is the time to put that stuff aside and get the job done. That's what being a professional police officer is all about.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Friendly skies? How about friendly highways?
So last night I'm passing the airport in my marked cruiser. (Note: Use of the term "marked cruiser" is a hint. It typically means that I was very obvious and not being at all sneaky but someone about to be blogged about still didn't get it.)
Looking in my mirror, I see a car coming off of the ramp fro the airport onto my highway behind me. Speed limit here is 55mph, and just past that ramp is a sign saying as much. It's late, and me and this car are the only two vehicles around, so I slow down to 65mph as I watch this car rapidly gain on me. Naturally I expect that this driver will pull up close enough to recognize the marked police cruiser in front of them and quickly slow down to a bit under my speed. That's what usually happens, and that's one of the reasons why I'm out here--to keep traffic speeds reasonable just by my mere presence.
But this driver just doesn't care. ZOOM! Right past me. And then as I increase my speed to catch up, that car increases speed, apparently racing to get to the next interchange to jump onto another highway. By the time my lights go on, I'm doing 75 and that car is still moving a bit faster. That car stops, but instead of pulling to the clear, roomy and safe shoulder, it stops in the traffic lane. I have to use my PA system to tell the driver to pull onto the shoulder. Then the nonsense really starts. She pulls onto the shoulder but I see that her brake lights are still lit and I haven't seen the vehicle shift into "park" yet--the vehicle is still in gear. I again pick up the PA and tell her to take her foot off the brake. Sure enough, she starts rolling forward...and keeps rolling forward. I tell her to stop again, and she does, but still doesn't put the car in park.
I don't approach cars that are still running and in gear. I don't like cars that are either preparing to rabbit away from me or able to otherwise injure me by suddenly moving when I'm near them. And I'm naturally suspicious of drivers who won't put the car in park like 95% of the driving public automatically does when stopped.
I tell her to put the car in park, and she finally does. I then tell her to turn the car off, but she refuses. I can see the exhaust so I know it's still running. Again, we have noncompliance to a simple instruction, and one that directly concerns my safety. Screw it. I ask for another unit for back-up and one actually materializes fairly quickly. The airport guys were monitoring our channel and one ambled up within a minute. Now with two of us, we approach the car. The driver is a black female still dressed in the costume of an American Airlines stewardess. And she starts right in:
"You need to stop yelling at me," she says before I even introduce myself. "I'm not your dog and I'm not your kid."
OK, so it's going to be like that, is it? This was going to be a quick sobriety check, probably ending with a verbal warning if she was sober, but she's taking it in another direction pretty quickly. I put my hand up to cut her off.
"First of all, when the lights come on, you need to pull onto the shoulder and put your car in park. Then when I give you instructions that I know you can hear, you need to obey them. And that means turning your car off when I tell you to. Is there a reason why you didn't want to do any of those things?"
"Yeah," she snaps. "I'm just off work, I want to get home, and it's cold out. I don't need this."
"Ok, The reason you were stopped in the first placed is because of your speed back there. The speed limit here is 55 and you were in excess of 75 before I stopped you. Are you aware of that?"
"I was doing 65," she said, dismissively turning to look out the front windshield instead of at me.
"And as I just explained, the speed limit is 55. You passed a sign saying so when you came out of the airport. License and registration, please." I'm not going to sit here and argue with her. She can just have a citation and take it to the judge if she wants.
She digs the information out of her purse and then tries to hand it to the airport officer who is on the other side of her car. He tells her to give it to me.
"But I want to deal with you," she says to him. You're from the airport and I work for American Airlines." The airport officer tells her again to give it to me because this is my traffic stop. She hands it to me and repeats: "I work for American Airlines and I want him to handle this."
"Well you're on my highway now so you'll deal with me. Have you had anything to drink tonight?"
"I just told you--I work for American Airlines. Can't you see this?" She touches her uniform. "They drug test us, so no, I don't drink when I'm at work."
Whatever. I go back to my cruiser and scratch her out a speeding ticket. The airport guy waits with me. I ask him if all of the stewardesses are like that. He laughs and rolls his eyes. "Oh no. Most are worse. They think that they're the boss everywhere just because they're in charge of passengers on a plane or two. We get this crap from them all the time."
"Friendly skies, huh?" I ask. We laugh.
I walk back and hand her her $165.00 ticket. She's steaming. "Your supervisor will be hearing from my husband shortly," she announces.
"Fine," I tell her. "Have your boss call my boss." I turn to walk away as the airport guy bursts out laughing, not even trying to be discrete.
I may get a complaint just for that last line, but you know what? It'll be worth it.
Looking in my mirror, I see a car coming off of the ramp fro the airport onto my highway behind me. Speed limit here is 55mph, and just past that ramp is a sign saying as much. It's late, and me and this car are the only two vehicles around, so I slow down to 65mph as I watch this car rapidly gain on me. Naturally I expect that this driver will pull up close enough to recognize the marked police cruiser in front of them and quickly slow down to a bit under my speed. That's what usually happens, and that's one of the reasons why I'm out here--to keep traffic speeds reasonable just by my mere presence.
But this driver just doesn't care. ZOOM! Right past me. And then as I increase my speed to catch up, that car increases speed, apparently racing to get to the next interchange to jump onto another highway. By the time my lights go on, I'm doing 75 and that car is still moving a bit faster. That car stops, but instead of pulling to the clear, roomy and safe shoulder, it stops in the traffic lane. I have to use my PA system to tell the driver to pull onto the shoulder. Then the nonsense really starts. She pulls onto the shoulder but I see that her brake lights are still lit and I haven't seen the vehicle shift into "park" yet--the vehicle is still in gear. I again pick up the PA and tell her to take her foot off the brake. Sure enough, she starts rolling forward...and keeps rolling forward. I tell her to stop again, and she does, but still doesn't put the car in park.
I don't approach cars that are still running and in gear. I don't like cars that are either preparing to rabbit away from me or able to otherwise injure me by suddenly moving when I'm near them. And I'm naturally suspicious of drivers who won't put the car in park like 95% of the driving public automatically does when stopped.
I tell her to put the car in park, and she finally does. I then tell her to turn the car off, but she refuses. I can see the exhaust so I know it's still running. Again, we have noncompliance to a simple instruction, and one that directly concerns my safety. Screw it. I ask for another unit for back-up and one actually materializes fairly quickly. The airport guys were monitoring our channel and one ambled up within a minute. Now with two of us, we approach the car. The driver is a black female still dressed in the costume of an American Airlines stewardess. And she starts right in:
"You need to stop yelling at me," she says before I even introduce myself. "I'm not your dog and I'm not your kid."
OK, so it's going to be like that, is it? This was going to be a quick sobriety check, probably ending with a verbal warning if she was sober, but she's taking it in another direction pretty quickly. I put my hand up to cut her off.
"First of all, when the lights come on, you need to pull onto the shoulder and put your car in park. Then when I give you instructions that I know you can hear, you need to obey them. And that means turning your car off when I tell you to. Is there a reason why you didn't want to do any of those things?"
"Yeah," she snaps. "I'm just off work, I want to get home, and it's cold out. I don't need this."
"Ok, The reason you were stopped in the first placed is because of your speed back there. The speed limit here is 55 and you were in excess of 75 before I stopped you. Are you aware of that?"
"I was doing 65," she said, dismissively turning to look out the front windshield instead of at me.
"And as I just explained, the speed limit is 55. You passed a sign saying so when you came out of the airport. License and registration, please." I'm not going to sit here and argue with her. She can just have a citation and take it to the judge if she wants.
She digs the information out of her purse and then tries to hand it to the airport officer who is on the other side of her car. He tells her to give it to me.
"But I want to deal with you," she says to him. You're from the airport and I work for American Airlines." The airport officer tells her again to give it to me because this is my traffic stop. She hands it to me and repeats: "I work for American Airlines and I want him to handle this."
"Well you're on my highway now so you'll deal with me. Have you had anything to drink tonight?"
"I just told you--I work for American Airlines. Can't you see this?" She touches her uniform. "They drug test us, so no, I don't drink when I'm at work."
Whatever. I go back to my cruiser and scratch her out a speeding ticket. The airport guy waits with me. I ask him if all of the stewardesses are like that. He laughs and rolls his eyes. "Oh no. Most are worse. They think that they're the boss everywhere just because they're in charge of passengers on a plane or two. We get this crap from them all the time."
"Friendly skies, huh?" I ask. We laugh.
I walk back and hand her her $165.00 ticket. She's steaming. "Your supervisor will be hearing from my husband shortly," she announces.
"Fine," I tell her. "Have your boss call my boss." I turn to walk away as the airport guy bursts out laughing, not even trying to be discrete.
I may get a complaint just for that last line, but you know what? It'll be worth it.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Winter fun
So last night, because we got pounded with a serious snow storm that darn near shut our roads down, I was paired up with my sergeant in one of our 4WD SUV's. All was pretty dull until just before midnight, when we happened to spot one of those pesky 4x4 ATV's riding on the bike path in one of the local parks. The ATV operator saw us and turned his headlight off, but apparently forgot that when he brakes, the brake light comes on. So we could still see him as we drove on past, then doused our own lights, u-turned without braking, and coasted back into the park to have a talk with him.
Now as luck would have it, my sergeant was driving. Had it been me, I'd have snared that ATV in a heartbeat. But with Grandpaw Sarge driving... Well we'd see.
Sure enough, he pulled into the park entrance just as the ATV was trying to sneak out. Sarge actually thought that the ATV would stop for him just because he was blocking the drive, but the little 4x4 jumped the curb and shot past us.
Now my sergeant is a great guy, but sometimes he's not the most motivated person. He probably wouldn't even have been messing with the ATV in the first place had I not been sitting there in the passenger seat saying "get it, get it, get it!" But now the ATV operator had just blatantly defied his authority, and now I was yelling "Oh, I know that you ain't gonna let him punk you like that..." So with a shift into reverse gear, it was on.
The ATV left our park and crossed the highway into a pretty upscale neighborhood, and we were right on it. Sarge turned the lights and siren on, but the ATV operator wasn't stopping. Instead, he kept going, right down the middle of the snow-covered street, with a passenger hanging on the back. He ran a few stop signs as he twisted and turned through the neighborhood, and had we been in a cruiser instead of a 4WD SUV, we'd probably not have been able to keep up with him like we did, but we stuck on him.
Of course I was offering motivational comments like "If you can't catch him, you're a pussy!"
Sarge reminded me that he was still my sergeant, and I replied that he could be both, especially if he let that ATV get away.
We hung on the ATV for a few minutes, and finally he ran up a cul-de-sac. As he tried to turn around and pass us again, we popped the doors open and jumped out. I was all set to tackle at least one of those riders off the machine if it tried to get past me, but at this point it stopped and the operator turned out to be a 40 year old with his wife on the back. He tried to tell us that it was just all in fun and that he wasn't doing anything really wrong besides playing with his new ATV in the snow. He readily admitted that he'd been trying to lose us and that he knew that he wasn't supposed to have the ATV out on the streets or in the park. He also smelled strongly of alcoholic beverages and when I pointed that out, he got huffy, told me that yes, he had been drinking but that he wasn't drunk, and then started trying to berate us into letting them go by explaining again that he was "just having fun" and "not doing anything really wrong".
Now had he just stopped for us the first time, he'd have probably got sent home with a warning, just like we'd given some other kids on dirt bikes earlier in the night. But now he'd fled from us and was admitting it while throwing attitude at us and with alcohol on his breath to boot. Not too bright. And then as my sergeant and I discussed how to handle this (I was in favor of summary execution and he was inclined to go with something a bit less), the guy's wife kept coming over to us and interrupting to tell us how her husband has a security clearance and doesn't need this trouble, again implying that it's all our fault, not theirs. She also kept asking "Is this going to take much longer?" every few minutes, as if the only ones with anything better to do at midnight was them. And finally, when I asked the operator to consent to field sobriety tests, he told me that he'd rather wait for his lawyer.
Well once again, we arrived at a point where attitude decided how a close decision was going to go. Had there been any suggestion of remorse or an attempt at an apology, things might have gone a bit different, but now we were catching flack from these two after they caused this whole mess by breaking numerous laws. So the operator wound up getting issued Mandatory Appearance citations for Reckless Driving, Fleeing to Elude Police, Unregistered Vehicle, and a few other traffic violations. He finally did consent to a breath test via our RBT and came in at a rather low 0.05 so we didn't take him to jail for DUI, but we did impound the ATV (and we'll be holding it at his expense until the court case is resolved) and unless he's got a really good lawyer and draws our one rather weak-sentencing judge, he'll likely draw a few days in jail when he appears in court.
Oh--and that security clearance? If true, sucks to be him. This mess will likely cost him that.
And because we released him at the scene instead of trucking him back to our department for fingerprinting and photographing, we were clear in under an hour from the moment that we first saw the ATV's lights in the park. Not bad.
About an hour or so later, we headed into a nearby town to get some food. As we rolled through the still-hopping bar district (mere snow emergencies don't stop the party set from getting trashed), we were flagged down by a cab driver and a maitre d'from one of the restuarants.
Well "flagged down" is a bit mild. The cabbie threw himself in front of us, forcing us to stop or run him down.
They pointed out three guys walking away who had broke the cabbie's mirror off and slugged the maitre d'. Well this wasn't really our area, but what the hell--we U-turned and went after the three, who were now about a block away and walking with a purpose along the sidewalk.
We pulled up alongside the three and I rolled down my window and told them to stop. And the three of them looked at the police officer in the marked police vehicle and just kept walking. So I jumped out and grabbed one, and sarge shot up ahead of the group and cut the other two off with the truck. All three had been drinking, and as my luck would have it, I grabbed a lawyer. (a drunk lawyer as it turned out, but in his mind, he was Perry-fucking-Mason.)
When I put the Habeus Grabbus on Matlock, he started to spin to face my so I shoved him back up against the wall and yelled "POLICE! I SAID STOP!" very loudly. This not only told him that I was serious, but it let any of the bystanders know that this guy was being noncompliant and not just getting rousted for my amusement. I told him to give me his ID, and he started in with "What did I do?" "I SAID GIVE ME YOUR ID!" I repeated. He came up with it, and then he said that he was offended that I had grabbed him and was yelling at him. I told him that I didn't really care and that I was offended that he wasn't listening to a police officer who was trying to stop him, and that trumped his being offended over being stopped as far as I was concerned. About this time, my sergeant was walking the other two back to me and the cabbie and the maitre d' were running up screaming "That's them, that's them!" So sarge took the victims aside and I started to run the three stooges names over the radio. And I'm right in the middle of running the lawyer's ID when he interrupts me and asks when he can get it back. Apparently I'm inconveniencing another upstanding citizen now...
It turns out that it's one of the other two that actually damaged the cab and hit the maitre d' so he's the one we're focusing on, but the lawyer keeps dipping in, telling his friends over and over not to say anything and asking me if he's being detained.
"Yes, you're being detained," I tell him.
"So you're saying that I'm not free to leave then?"
"That's correct."
"So you're detaining me why?"
"Because. Now shut up."
About this time, the local police who were actually called to this show up in a bunch, and we turn it all over to them. They can sort this mess out better, and we still want food. They wind up kicking the lawyer and the other guy loose and telling them to move along while they wrap things up with the main perpetrator. Of course Matlock wants to stand around anyway and yell "Don't say anything to them! Nothing! I'll fix it all in the morning!" Then he hands a card to one of the local officers and says "I'm his attorney and you can talk to me."
The local looks at the card and disdainfully flips it into the gutter. Turns out that the wanna-be defense attorney is really a patent lawyer from New York City. We're nowhere close to New York City.
Anyway, with the arrival of a quantity the local officers, our job is done and we clear to go get some wings. The best arrests are truly those that someone else has to do all of the writing on.
Now as luck would have it, my sergeant was driving. Had it been me, I'd have snared that ATV in a heartbeat. But with Grandpaw Sarge driving... Well we'd see.
Sure enough, he pulled into the park entrance just as the ATV was trying to sneak out. Sarge actually thought that the ATV would stop for him just because he was blocking the drive, but the little 4x4 jumped the curb and shot past us.
Now my sergeant is a great guy, but sometimes he's not the most motivated person. He probably wouldn't even have been messing with the ATV in the first place had I not been sitting there in the passenger seat saying "get it, get it, get it!" But now the ATV operator had just blatantly defied his authority, and now I was yelling "Oh, I know that you ain't gonna let him punk you like that..." So with a shift into reverse gear, it was on.
The ATV left our park and crossed the highway into a pretty upscale neighborhood, and we were right on it. Sarge turned the lights and siren on, but the ATV operator wasn't stopping. Instead, he kept going, right down the middle of the snow-covered street, with a passenger hanging on the back. He ran a few stop signs as he twisted and turned through the neighborhood, and had we been in a cruiser instead of a 4WD SUV, we'd probably not have been able to keep up with him like we did, but we stuck on him.
Of course I was offering motivational comments like "If you can't catch him, you're a pussy!"
Sarge reminded me that he was still my sergeant, and I replied that he could be both, especially if he let that ATV get away.
We hung on the ATV for a few minutes, and finally he ran up a cul-de-sac. As he tried to turn around and pass us again, we popped the doors open and jumped out. I was all set to tackle at least one of those riders off the machine if it tried to get past me, but at this point it stopped and the operator turned out to be a 40 year old with his wife on the back. He tried to tell us that it was just all in fun and that he wasn't doing anything really wrong besides playing with his new ATV in the snow. He readily admitted that he'd been trying to lose us and that he knew that he wasn't supposed to have the ATV out on the streets or in the park. He also smelled strongly of alcoholic beverages and when I pointed that out, he got huffy, told me that yes, he had been drinking but that he wasn't drunk, and then started trying to berate us into letting them go by explaining again that he was "just having fun" and "not doing anything really wrong".
Now had he just stopped for us the first time, he'd have probably got sent home with a warning, just like we'd given some other kids on dirt bikes earlier in the night. But now he'd fled from us and was admitting it while throwing attitude at us and with alcohol on his breath to boot. Not too bright. And then as my sergeant and I discussed how to handle this (I was in favor of summary execution and he was inclined to go with something a bit less), the guy's wife kept coming over to us and interrupting to tell us how her husband has a security clearance and doesn't need this trouble, again implying that it's all our fault, not theirs. She also kept asking "Is this going to take much longer?" every few minutes, as if the only ones with anything better to do at midnight was them. And finally, when I asked the operator to consent to field sobriety tests, he told me that he'd rather wait for his lawyer.
Well once again, we arrived at a point where attitude decided how a close decision was going to go. Had there been any suggestion of remorse or an attempt at an apology, things might have gone a bit different, but now we were catching flack from these two after they caused this whole mess by breaking numerous laws. So the operator wound up getting issued Mandatory Appearance citations for Reckless Driving, Fleeing to Elude Police, Unregistered Vehicle, and a few other traffic violations. He finally did consent to a breath test via our RBT and came in at a rather low 0.05 so we didn't take him to jail for DUI, but we did impound the ATV (and we'll be holding it at his expense until the court case is resolved) and unless he's got a really good lawyer and draws our one rather weak-sentencing judge, he'll likely draw a few days in jail when he appears in court.
Oh--and that security clearance? If true, sucks to be him. This mess will likely cost him that.
And because we released him at the scene instead of trucking him back to our department for fingerprinting and photographing, we were clear in under an hour from the moment that we first saw the ATV's lights in the park. Not bad.
About an hour or so later, we headed into a nearby town to get some food. As we rolled through the still-hopping bar district (mere snow emergencies don't stop the party set from getting trashed), we were flagged down by a cab driver and a maitre d'from one of the restuarants.
Well "flagged down" is a bit mild. The cabbie threw himself in front of us, forcing us to stop or run him down.
They pointed out three guys walking away who had broke the cabbie's mirror off and slugged the maitre d'. Well this wasn't really our area, but what the hell--we U-turned and went after the three, who were now about a block away and walking with a purpose along the sidewalk.
We pulled up alongside the three and I rolled down my window and told them to stop. And the three of them looked at the police officer in the marked police vehicle and just kept walking. So I jumped out and grabbed one, and sarge shot up ahead of the group and cut the other two off with the truck. All three had been drinking, and as my luck would have it, I grabbed a lawyer. (a drunk lawyer as it turned out, but in his mind, he was Perry-fucking-Mason.)
When I put the Habeus Grabbus on Matlock, he started to spin to face my so I shoved him back up against the wall and yelled "POLICE! I SAID STOP!" very loudly. This not only told him that I was serious, but it let any of the bystanders know that this guy was being noncompliant and not just getting rousted for my amusement. I told him to give me his ID, and he started in with "What did I do?" "I SAID GIVE ME YOUR ID!" I repeated. He came up with it, and then he said that he was offended that I had grabbed him and was yelling at him. I told him that I didn't really care and that I was offended that he wasn't listening to a police officer who was trying to stop him, and that trumped his being offended over being stopped as far as I was concerned. About this time, my sergeant was walking the other two back to me and the cabbie and the maitre d' were running up screaming "That's them, that's them!" So sarge took the victims aside and I started to run the three stooges names over the radio. And I'm right in the middle of running the lawyer's ID when he interrupts me and asks when he can get it back. Apparently I'm inconveniencing another upstanding citizen now...
It turns out that it's one of the other two that actually damaged the cab and hit the maitre d' so he's the one we're focusing on, but the lawyer keeps dipping in, telling his friends over and over not to say anything and asking me if he's being detained.
"Yes, you're being detained," I tell him.
"So you're saying that I'm not free to leave then?"
"That's correct."
"So you're detaining me why?"
"Because. Now shut up."
About this time, the local police who were actually called to this show up in a bunch, and we turn it all over to them. They can sort this mess out better, and we still want food. They wind up kicking the lawyer and the other guy loose and telling them to move along while they wrap things up with the main perpetrator. Of course Matlock wants to stand around anyway and yell "Don't say anything to them! Nothing! I'll fix it all in the morning!" Then he hands a card to one of the local officers and says "I'm his attorney and you can talk to me."
The local looks at the card and disdainfully flips it into the gutter. Turns out that the wanna-be defense attorney is really a patent lawyer from New York City. We're nowhere close to New York City.
Anyway, with the arrival of a quantity the local officers, our job is done and we clear to go get some wings. The best arrests are truly those that someone else has to do all of the writing on.
Sunday, December 27, 2009
Sometimes lightning really does strike twice
A couple of years back, I tagged this gal for DWI one night. Smoking hot and a recent Russian immigrant. Turned out that she was one of those mail-order wives and some sap had paid big bucks to bring her here to America. Then he enlisted and went to fight overseas while she lived with his parents, cashing his checks, driving his car (and getting it impounded) and hanging out at the clubs until closing time...good wife, eh? I locked her up and her in-laws or husband or whoever ponied up for a lawyer who got her a plea deal, so the case never went to actual trial. I'd forgotten all about her until one night almost a year later when I found a car parked in a dark park a bit after midnight. I went up and interrupted a couple who were about to get busy, and when I did, I noticed the smell of alcoholic beverages. I also saw that the engine was running. Good enough. I pulled the two of them out and discovered that is was my little Russian friend from a year prior, still smoking hot and apparently unfaithful as ever. The car was her husband's but the guy she was with...not him. He's still overseas and this is just some casual hook-up.
Now I have to ask myself about the odds of this. My agency's coverage area is huge, spanning several smaller municpalities. A year ago, I'd tagged her near the northen end of it, and here, just by chance, I'd caught her again about forty miles south of there. With literally hundreds of thousands of people in our area, it boggles the mind to figure the odds of this happening.
So I hooked her for DWI again after she failed the field sobriety tests and exhibited enough other signs of intoxication for me to take her even though I hadn't actually seen her driving the car. (mere possession and control of the car is enough for the arrest here, and here being in the car with the engine running works.)
Her shack-up actually had the nerve to ask me how he was suppoosed to get home as I was hooking her up. No concern for her or curiosity about her charges--just interested in how he was supposed to get home.
I pointed out that he had feet and suggested that he use them. Then I took her back to out jail.
And on the way back, it finally dawned on her that we'd met before. She hadn't recognized me at first, and I didn't say anything. But half way back, the light came on and she told me that she knew. "Small world, eh?" I replied.
She was silent for a few minutes, and then she leaned towards the divider and told me off:
"You know, last time you arrested me, that was total bullshit. I was hardly drunk at all."
I didn't say anything; I never respond when prisoners start to ramble. Sometimes they say really cool spontaneous (and admissible) stuff if allowed to just talk.
"Yeah, I'll admit that you got me good this time. I'm fucked up. But last time I was hardly drunk at all and that was wrong."
I had to shake my head to be sure I'd just heard that. "What did you say?"
Thinking quickly, I grabbed my radio mike, keyed it, and held it up near the divider.
"I said that the last time you got me, I was hardly drunk at all. This time's solid because I'm fucked up, but last time I was hardly drunk at all and you shouldn't have arrested me."
Then she saw the microphone I was holding up.
"Oh, fuck you!" she screamed.
"Dispatch, please mark the tape and have a copy ready for pick-up prior to EOT," I said.
That confession was a nice addition to the little Tsarina's case jacket...and because I'd done nothing to solicit it, it was perfectly admissible. She wound up getting five days for this second DWI and the husband's car was impounded yet again.
I have to wonder if her husband has mailed her back to Moscow yet, or if she's still here, driving around in his car and waiting for our next encounter.
Now I have to ask myself about the odds of this. My agency's coverage area is huge, spanning several smaller municpalities. A year ago, I'd tagged her near the northen end of it, and here, just by chance, I'd caught her again about forty miles south of there. With literally hundreds of thousands of people in our area, it boggles the mind to figure the odds of this happening.
So I hooked her for DWI again after she failed the field sobriety tests and exhibited enough other signs of intoxication for me to take her even though I hadn't actually seen her driving the car. (mere possession and control of the car is enough for the arrest here, and here being in the car with the engine running works.)
Her shack-up actually had the nerve to ask me how he was suppoosed to get home as I was hooking her up. No concern for her or curiosity about her charges--just interested in how he was supposed to get home.
I pointed out that he had feet and suggested that he use them. Then I took her back to out jail.
And on the way back, it finally dawned on her that we'd met before. She hadn't recognized me at first, and I didn't say anything. But half way back, the light came on and she told me that she knew. "Small world, eh?" I replied.
She was silent for a few minutes, and then she leaned towards the divider and told me off:
"You know, last time you arrested me, that was total bullshit. I was hardly drunk at all."
I didn't say anything; I never respond when prisoners start to ramble. Sometimes they say really cool spontaneous (and admissible) stuff if allowed to just talk.
"Yeah, I'll admit that you got me good this time. I'm fucked up. But last time I was hardly drunk at all and that was wrong."
I had to shake my head to be sure I'd just heard that. "What did you say?"
Thinking quickly, I grabbed my radio mike, keyed it, and held it up near the divider.
"I said that the last time you got me, I was hardly drunk at all. This time's solid because I'm fucked up, but last time I was hardly drunk at all and you shouldn't have arrested me."
Then she saw the microphone I was holding up.
"Oh, fuck you!" she screamed.
"Dispatch, please mark the tape and have a copy ready for pick-up prior to EOT," I said.
That confession was a nice addition to the little Tsarina's case jacket...and because I'd done nothing to solicit it, it was perfectly admissible. She wound up getting five days for this second DWI and the husband's car was impounded yet again.
I have to wonder if her husband has mailed her back to Moscow yet, or if she's still here, driving around in his car and waiting for our next encounter.
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Dispatch blues
Lucky me...due to a serious shortage of dispatchers recently, I've been blessed with the opportunity to pick up some serious overtime working off the street in our communications center.
However, it has not been without it's frustrations, some from idiots who call in asking for help, and some from idiots in uniform who should know better.
So, just to get everyone back on the same page:
1. Citizens. When you call 911, it is an EMERGENCY center you have called. Give me the nature of your call--keep it brief--and make sure that it's something we can do something about. DO NOT call to whine about:
a. People who are "recklessly" passing you after you set your cruise control right at the speed limit. (Aside from bothering me, you're driving like an ass. Sell your car and take the bus.)
b. Deer on the road. We all know deer cross the road. It's just one of those things. Don't call and tell me about the deer that you almost hit, or ask why we do not have more "deer crossing" signs up. Trust me, the deer won't cross there no matter how many we put up.
c. The guy who cut you off a few minutes ago, especially if you didn't get a license number and he got off at the last exit. WTF are we supposed to do about that? You probably deserved to be cut off because you were driving like caller a.
2. Citizens. When you call in, if you do not know where you are, do not get mad at me because I keep asking you to figure it out. I cannot send anyone to help you if I do not know where you are. I cannot magically divine your location, and it's really important. So if I ask you to go find a street sign or something else that will clue us both in, don't get all pissy with me. I know where I am.
3. Officers. If another officer has just asked me to check a tag and I acknowledge him or her, your silly-assed query really needs to wait fifteen seconds until I give him or her their return. If you are in a chase or a gunfight, fine. But if you just want to announce that you've checked a "special attention" location and found nothing wrong, or if you want your own tag checked, just wait. The real dispatchers may be able to handle you tag-teaming them, but I'm not there yet and I know who you are. This bullshit where the radio is totally silent for twenty minutes and then suddenly eight people have traffic all at once needs to quit.
4. Officers. When I call you several times because you do not answer up (because you weren't paying attention), don't get snide with me. You only have one real job: answering the radio. I do it when I'm out there and you can do it. And to be honest, some of you have this problem a lot more than others. You know who you are; so does everyone else. (And yes, CM, I mean you in particular.)
5. Unnamed neighboring jurisdiction: STOP TRANSFERRING ALL OF YOUR DAMNED CALLS TO US! Your calls are yours, and turfing callers off on us isn't going to make us take them; it's just going to get the callers and--us--pissed off, resulting in hurt feelings when I transfer the call back with the polite suggestion that you learn your geography and pull your own calls.
That's all for now.
However, it has not been without it's frustrations, some from idiots who call in asking for help, and some from idiots in uniform who should know better.
So, just to get everyone back on the same page:
1. Citizens. When you call 911, it is an EMERGENCY center you have called. Give me the nature of your call--keep it brief--and make sure that it's something we can do something about. DO NOT call to whine about:
a. People who are "recklessly" passing you after you set your cruise control right at the speed limit. (Aside from bothering me, you're driving like an ass. Sell your car and take the bus.)
b. Deer on the road. We all know deer cross the road. It's just one of those things. Don't call and tell me about the deer that you almost hit, or ask why we do not have more "deer crossing" signs up. Trust me, the deer won't cross there no matter how many we put up.
c. The guy who cut you off a few minutes ago, especially if you didn't get a license number and he got off at the last exit. WTF are we supposed to do about that? You probably deserved to be cut off because you were driving like caller a.
2. Citizens. When you call in, if you do not know where you are, do not get mad at me because I keep asking you to figure it out. I cannot send anyone to help you if I do not know where you are. I cannot magically divine your location, and it's really important. So if I ask you to go find a street sign or something else that will clue us both in, don't get all pissy with me. I know where I am.
3. Officers. If another officer has just asked me to check a tag and I acknowledge him or her, your silly-assed query really needs to wait fifteen seconds until I give him or her their return. If you are in a chase or a gunfight, fine. But if you just want to announce that you've checked a "special attention" location and found nothing wrong, or if you want your own tag checked, just wait. The real dispatchers may be able to handle you tag-teaming them, but I'm not there yet and I know who you are. This bullshit where the radio is totally silent for twenty minutes and then suddenly eight people have traffic all at once needs to quit.
4. Officers. When I call you several times because you do not answer up (because you weren't paying attention), don't get snide with me. You only have one real job: answering the radio. I do it when I'm out there and you can do it. And to be honest, some of you have this problem a lot more than others. You know who you are; so does everyone else. (And yes, CM, I mean you in particular.)
5. Unnamed neighboring jurisdiction: STOP TRANSFERRING ALL OF YOUR DAMNED CALLS TO US! Your calls are yours, and turfing callers off on us isn't going to make us take them; it's just going to get the callers and--us--pissed off, resulting in hurt feelings when I transfer the call back with the polite suggestion that you learn your geography and pull your own calls.
That's all for now.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Back in court
Sorry for the absence--I had training and then took some leave.
But I'm back and I had court today. It was a four-year-old case where the defendant had failed to appear and just been coasting around until our warrant squad picked him up.
Actually they’d stopped by his mother’s house looking for him, and though he wasn’t there, he got spooked and turned himself in.
As I recalled the arrest, I’d been sitting alongside a road, minding my own business, when I saw a car go by at a high rate of speed, weaving in and out of the moderately heavy traffic. I went after it, and because it had a broken tail light, it was easy to track it among all of the other cars. As I stopped it, I noticed that there were no brake lights, either. The car was also missing a side mirror and had a cracked windshield—basically it was a rolling piece of junk.
Of course the driver had a nice stereo installed, one that was worth about twice what the rest of the car was, but that’s really not all that unusual in this area. Also not unusual for this area: His license to drive was suspended.
So I hooked the guy up and called for a tow truck. Shortly, a flat-bed truck showed up, and the driver dropped the rear ramp then started up the defendant’s car and drove it up onto the ramp.
Next thing I knew, the car was rolling back off the ramp right at my cruiser as the tow truck driver tried to stop it without success.
“I forgot to tell you, man,” the prisoner said just before his car impacted the front of my cruiser, smashing in a corner of the bumper and the headlight bucket, “that car ain’t got no brakes!”
Turned out knucklehead had been stopping it with the emergency brake alone for the past two to three weeks. (This explained the absence of brake lights.)
So now I had an arrest, an impound, and a “damage to government property—official vehicle” report to do. The latter did not make me a happy guy.
The pin-head bonded out and never appeared in court. A warrant was put in the system, but since he didn’t have enough money to pay his fines, get his license reinstated, and pay for impound fees, insurance and repairs on his car, he just lost the car to the auction block and got a bike. Since he wasn’t driving, he never got stopped by the police and that meant that he never got picked up on the warrant.
Well today he was back in court. He was offered a plea deal where everything would be dropped other than charges of operating an unsafe vehicle, operating after suspension, and failure to appear in court. That meant that all of my equipment cites got tossed along with operating uninsured and the Reckless Driving that I’d hit him with. I’d really wanted to see him get hit with the Reckless, but this particular prosecutor plea-bargains everything down to crazy levels. I was still grumbling as the case was called and the judge gave him a fine for the Unsafe Vehicle charge and probation for the Operating After Suspension hit. But then the judge told him that his probation would begin right after his thirty day sentence for failure to appear was served. Based on the look that I got from the bench, I think the judge heard my whispered “YES!!” But that’s ok, because the world is a just place after all.
But I'm back and I had court today. It was a four-year-old case where the defendant had failed to appear and just been coasting around until our warrant squad picked him up.
Actually they’d stopped by his mother’s house looking for him, and though he wasn’t there, he got spooked and turned himself in.
As I recalled the arrest, I’d been sitting alongside a road, minding my own business, when I saw a car go by at a high rate of speed, weaving in and out of the moderately heavy traffic. I went after it, and because it had a broken tail light, it was easy to track it among all of the other cars. As I stopped it, I noticed that there were no brake lights, either. The car was also missing a side mirror and had a cracked windshield—basically it was a rolling piece of junk.
Of course the driver had a nice stereo installed, one that was worth about twice what the rest of the car was, but that’s really not all that unusual in this area. Also not unusual for this area: His license to drive was suspended.
So I hooked the guy up and called for a tow truck. Shortly, a flat-bed truck showed up, and the driver dropped the rear ramp then started up the defendant’s car and drove it up onto the ramp.
Next thing I knew, the car was rolling back off the ramp right at my cruiser as the tow truck driver tried to stop it without success.
“I forgot to tell you, man,” the prisoner said just before his car impacted the front of my cruiser, smashing in a corner of the bumper and the headlight bucket, “that car ain’t got no brakes!”
Turned out knucklehead had been stopping it with the emergency brake alone for the past two to three weeks. (This explained the absence of brake lights.)
So now I had an arrest, an impound, and a “damage to government property—official vehicle” report to do. The latter did not make me a happy guy.
The pin-head bonded out and never appeared in court. A warrant was put in the system, but since he didn’t have enough money to pay his fines, get his license reinstated, and pay for impound fees, insurance and repairs on his car, he just lost the car to the auction block and got a bike. Since he wasn’t driving, he never got stopped by the police and that meant that he never got picked up on the warrant.
Well today he was back in court. He was offered a plea deal where everything would be dropped other than charges of operating an unsafe vehicle, operating after suspension, and failure to appear in court. That meant that all of my equipment cites got tossed along with operating uninsured and the Reckless Driving that I’d hit him with. I’d really wanted to see him get hit with the Reckless, but this particular prosecutor plea-bargains everything down to crazy levels. I was still grumbling as the case was called and the judge gave him a fine for the Unsafe Vehicle charge and probation for the Operating After Suspension hit. But then the judge told him that his probation would begin right after his thirty day sentence for failure to appear was served. Based on the look that I got from the bench, I think the judge heard my whispered “YES!!” But that’s ok, because the world is a just place after all.
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