Risk vs Reward

Last night, four young males made decisions that will effect them for the rest of their lives. The decisions were mind-blowing, at least to me, when put into the perspective of the big picture. They started out by deciding to get high on crack. Because you know, crack actually improves the quality of cognitive thinking. It says so on the packaging. While high on crack, they grabbed a couple of Airsoft guns. These guns look real, but they do not shoot real bullets. They shoot small pellets. When an Airsoft gun is stuck in your face and someone is yelling at you, you are going to think it is a real gun. Then they decided to drive around looking for businesses to rob.

They started with a cafeteria. Two of them ran inside with hooded sweatshirts on and Airsoft guns out. They stuck the guns in two females employee's faces and yelled at them to give them all of the money. They were bouncing all around and were not very patient. Luckily for the employees, the males just grabbed the cash register off of the counter and ran out of the cafeteria.

They ran back to their vehicle where the two other males were waiting. They drove off and decided to rob a restaurant next. After that was a coffee shop. Each time brandishing the Airsoft guns and scaring people to death. Fortunately, we were able to get quite a few units in the area quickly. One of them was in the right place at the right time. They were flagged down by someone that was in the coffee shop during the robbery. That person gave the unit a description of the vehicle and pointed them in the right direction. That unit found the robbers driving in their vehicle and initiated a traffic stop. Surprisingly, the robbers pulled over, other units got there quickly, and they were all arrested without incident. A cash register, tip jar, and two Airsoft guns were recovered. Now they are all facing 1st degree felony aggravated robbery charges punishable by up to life in prison.

Sometimes people make bad decisions. Not everyone has a good childhood or a supportive family. Times are tough and people need to feed their families. Jobs are hard to come by. I understand all of that. But I do not understand how you can risk LIFE in prison for a tip jar from a coffee shop or a register from a cafeteria? At some point, risk vs reward has to go through your mind. Are things really that bad to make it worth it? Or, was it just for fun? Whichever the case, they will have a lot of time to think about it.

Posted via email from will7079's posterous

Okies and alcohol

I was assigned a new rookie, C, last Tuesday. He is in third phase, which is good for me. That means that he has some idea of what is going on. After roll call, we went to the parking garage and loaded up my stuff and then we went to his truck. On the back window in large white letters was an OU sticker. I immediately told him that we were going to have to do something about that sticker. He said that he had seen the UT sticker on my car and knew that there would be a problem once I saw his truck. Turns out that C graduated from OU last May. His father retired from our department a short time ago after 27 years of service. C seems to have a good head on his shoulders and is a quick learner, despite the fact that he is a Sooner.

Our first few nights together were very uneventful. We spent some of the time talking about football. Imagine that. Last night got a little more interesting. We had just left a loud noise call when we saw a green SUV driving with a flat back tire. It was obvious from the condition of the tire and wheel that he had been driving on it for quite some time. That usually means that the driver is intoxicated. That held true this time as well. After we stopped the SUV, a cab stopped and the driver told us that he had tried to help our driver. He saw him drive his SUV into a ditch and then pass out. The cab driver tried to take his keys, but was not successful. The driver woke up, drove off, and then slammed into a curb which is what popped the tire. The driver was too drunk to answer questions, could not get his wallet out of his pocket, and definitely could not stand up. We called for a DWI unit to come to the scene.

The first DWI unit that was enroute to us observed a truck driving erratically on the freeway. The DWI unit tried to stop the truck and the truck fled from the officer. The truck then went out of control, slammed into a wall, flipped over and caught on fire. The driver escaped from the burning truck and then tried to fight with the officers. Turns out that while on the freeway, he had hit an off duty officer's vehicle and tried to get away. Needless to say, that DWI unit did not make it to us to take our drunk. His dispatcher was kind enough to find us another unit to take our drunk.

That brings us to tonight. Right after roll call, we checked by on an accident on the freeway. A driver that left the scene, had caused two accidents. One was a four car and the other was a two car. When we arrived, there were cars and debris all over the freeway. The driver that left the scene had apparently been driving almost perpendicular to the traffic on the freeway. He came across the freeway and was clipped by a Camry. This sent him into the passenger side of a BMW. Then he hit the gas, made a u-turn and slammed into the driver's door of a Mercedes Benz. This is all on a Saturday night on the freeway when everyone is driving at least 60 mph. After hearing what that driver had done, it was amazing that no one was seriously injured. Another officer handled the two car accident and C took care of the four vehicle FSGI accident.

After leaving that scene, as we were heading to complete the accident report, we rolled up on another major accident. A drunk driver had run a red light and hit another vehicle almost head-on. Luckily for C, another unit was already on the scene and took care of that accident report. We just provided traffic control. Afterwords, C said that after dealing with so many drunk people in just one week on night shift, he understood what they might have been thinking when they instituted prohibition.

Posted via email from will7079's posterous

Just Dance

Download now or watch on posterous

IMG_0344.MOV (5312 KB)

Jen and Mary had way too much fun playing Just Dance last night. A1 and H got into it as well. A2 started fast, but by this time had faded and was ready for a movie.

Posted via email from will7079's posterous

Little leaguers teach me a lesson

Occasionally on the news there are stories involving Little League parents or coaches that just completely lose it. The parents get into a fight or the coach hits the umpire or some other completely inappropriate behavior transpires at a kid's sporting event. The adults end up acting much worse than their kids and set an example for exactly how not to act. When watching those stories, I have always wondered how things could get so out of hand at a Little League baseball game. How can the adults completely lose sight of the spirit of the game? Then I became a Little League parent. I do not condone the behavior of the adults in those stories, but I can now understand a little better what those adults might have been experiencing before losing it.

Because of my career choice, I have been in some stressful situations. That is the nature of my job. It is not always stressful and there is some downtime, but you never know when you might be making a life or death decision. High speed chases and physical confrontations are stress inducing, but they have nothing on watching your child step into the batter's box. At times it is hard for me to watch. With every ounce of my being I want A1 to get a hit and to get on base. When he makes an out and I see the disappointment on his face, it just crushes me. A nine year old does not understand that baseball is a game of failure. If you fail only 7 out of every 10 times at the plate, you can make millions of dollars in the Major Leagues. That fact does not comfort A1 after he makes an out.

A1 is in his fourth year of Little League baseball, AAA kid pitch. The first two years, his teams were not great, but the coach had a positive attitude and the kids all had fun. Last year, the team never gelled and never played together as a team. It was not a positive experience. This year, the team seems like they are playing together and want to win for each other. They started the season on a winning streak, but have lost their last two games. The last game was an especially tough loss, on the parents.

Last Tuesday, A1's team, the Hotrods played the Riverdogs. The Hotrods got off to a good start and scored 4 runs in the top of the first inning. The Riverdogs responded with 3 runs in their half of the inning. A1 was the first batter in the top half of the second inning. The first pitch was called a strike and A1 made a good swing at the second pitch but came up empty. The third pitch was far enough outside that the catcher had to slide over to make the catch, and the umpire called it a strike. I was beside myself. A1 made the right choice by not swinging at the bad pitch, only to have it called strike three. Instantly A1 was frustrated and felt like he could not hit the ball. I walked over to the dugout to try to cheer him up, but he was really frustrated. I reminded him that he can hit the ball at practice and in the driveway. He felt like a failure and was not confident in his abilities.

The game continued and the umpire continued to make bad calls, at least from the Hotrods perspective. It seemed like the umpire was a family member of the Riverdogs. The more calls that went against the Hotrods, the more frustrated the Hotrod parents and coaches became. Parents started complaining a little more vocally to the umpire. After one particularly horrendous call that went against us, we let the umpire know just how bad that call was. I did not hear any profanities, but it was not constructive criticism either. At that point, the umpire walked over toward our bleachers and threatened to throw us all out of the stands. All that did was fire us up a little more. Even my mild mannered wife was getting into it a little bit.

The game continued. The Hotrods came back and were close tying the game, when the umpire made yet another horrible call handing the game to the Riverdogs. The parents were pissed. The coaches were frustrated. Fortunately, no one completely freaked out, but the possibility was there. Then I looked at the kids. Sure, they looked a little disappointed at first, but then they got in line to shake the other teams hand. After they shook hands, they all ran back to the dugout with smiles on their faces. In the span of two minutes, they had all put the loss behind them. The parents and coaches were still complaining about the calls and the umpire. The kids were playing around and looking forward to the snacks that they were about to eat. It reminded me that it is only a game, even though they keep score. By watching them, it helped me to put the game back into the proper perspective. Now comes the hard part, remembering that the next time the calls go against us.

Posted via email from will7079's posterous

A child is born

Last week was a whirlwind for my family. On Tuesday, we all gathered for dinner. A1 had a Little League game that night and Mike and Courtney wanted to show off their new vehicle. So, my parents, Jen's parents, Courtney and Mike, and the four of us all met at Zio's for dinner. Just after the food arrived we all got a bit of a surprise. Courtney's water broke. It was baby time.

Jen and Mike went into action. Then made sure that Courtney was ok and then Jen got plastic bags and towels out of our truck and lined the front passenger seat of their new vehicle. Mike got their food to-go and drove Courtney home. They called their doctor and were instructed to go to the hospital. We all finished dinner and went to Austin's baseball game. His team won and Austin scored two runs.

I went to work and Jen put the kids to bed. I called her around 10:45 pm. She had just talked to Mike and he had told her that he would call her once the contractions got closer together. I was concerned that by that time Jen would not make it to the hospital in time for the birth. I knew that Jen wanted to be there and that Courtney wanted her there. So I called my parents and they graciously came to the house to watch the kids so that Jen was able to go to the hospital.

At work that night, I had a rookie and we had a couple of reports to write. My supervisor was kind enough to let us go by the hospital. While I was inside, the rookie wrote the reports. Right around 3:30 am, the doctor said that it was time to start pushing and that was the cue for Jim and I to leave the room. I returned to work. Beautiful baby S was born at 4:52 am. She was about 7 pounds and 19 inches.

Later that day, we all returned to the hospital to see the new addition to the family. A1 and A2 were so excited to meet their new cousin. A2 was literally vibrating she was so excited. She could not contain herself. It was really cool to see. Mike got some great video of the kids meeting S for the first time. While at the hospital, I helped Mike install the new car seat in the new vehicle. The car seat had only arrived the day before, the same day they picked up the new vehicle. S knew it was ok to come, she now had a way to get home.

Posted via email from will7079's posterous

I lost it again

My next rookie has not yet made it to night shift, so I was by myself last night. What usually happens when I am by myself is I get a call that would be a great training call like a four vehicle major accident, a natural DOA, or a domestic violence arrest. Last night was no exception.

I was dispatched to a CIT Disturbance. CIT stand for Crisis Intervention Team. CIT is added to the call slip when the call taker or dispatcher thinks that a person in crisis (crazy) might be involved in the call. The call slip said that a male had locked himself in the bathroom and might have a knife and might be trying to hurt himself. His girlfriend had called the police. She heard glass breaking from inside the locked bathroom. She also saw blood on him when he had briefly opened the door.

I arrived to find another officer outside the locked bathroom door with his taser out trying to talk to the male, G, inside the locked bathroom. The male did not respond to us. My Sergeant arrived. We explained to her what we had. A male possibly with a knife that may be trying to hurt himself locked inside a bathroom. She said that we have to check on him to make sure that he is ok. That means get inside that bathroom. I briefly thought about kicking in the door, but since it was an interior door, it was most likely hollow. A kick would just go right through the door. We used a knife to unlock the door and then pushed it in a little. This was met immediately by him pushing the door closed. We gave verbal commands and pushed a little more. G only responded by continuing to push back against the door. The other officer handed me a thin box and he wanted me to slide it in between the door and the jamb so that the door would not re-lock. We pushed the door in again, and as I was trying to slide the box in, G pushed back violently against the door. My right hand was nearly smashed between the door and the jamb. This upset me.

Now with a little adrenaline flowing and being a little upset, I slammed into the door. G had been sitting on the floor with his back against the door. He had his feet pushing against the toilet and was using his legs for leverage. When I hit the door, it completely dislodged the toilet from the floor and G flew into the bathtub. I then politely and calmly took G into custody.

It turns out that G and his girlfriend had an argument about possibly ending their relationship. G said this really frustrated him. He responded by punching out a window and locking himself in the bathroom. This was after he had destroyed the apartment. Clothes, furniture, beer cans, cigarette butts, and cat food were everywhere. The kitchen sink was clogged and filled to the rim with black water. The cat was on the counter. From just looking at the place, Jen would have had a stroke.

Three years ago G had been diagnosed with bi-polar disorder but he had been off of his medications for two years. He stopped taking his medication after a therapist told him that that doctors did not know what they were doing by prescribing him medication. A week ago, he had cut one of his wrists. He was in crisis. G needed to be evaluated by mental health professionals. I transported him to the county hospital and did an Emergency Order of Detention on G. This will allow the county to get him the help that he needs.

Posted via email from will7079's posterous

I lost it

A few minutes after roll call, an evening shift training unit got on the radio and asked for a night shift unit to check by with them at Central Intox. Central Intox is where most of the driving while intoxicated offenses are processed for my department. The evening shift unit said that they were swamped with work and needed a unit to transport their prisoner to Southeast jail since it was the end of their shift. Southeast jail is where all of the females are housed and is about 13 miles from Central.

AS and I were done with evaluation, but he was still riding with me until he transferred to evening shift for his second week of evaluation. I got on the radio and volunteered to check by with the evening shift unit. We arrived at Central Intox and they were not ready for us. They said that they would be ready in 30 minutes. I wondered why they asked for a unit to check by with them when they were not yet ready for that unit? Maybe they thought it would take us awhile to get there. Who knows? We used the time to get a drink from a nearby Stop-in-Rob.

Once we returned, they were ready for us. The female prisoner that we were transporting had been charged with DWI. She had been involved in an accident. She drove her vehicle into a pole. She refused to give a breathalyzer sample. She did do a station video (the officer instructs the person to do all of the standardized field sobriety tests in a room while it is recorded). She failed all of the tests on the station video.

AS handcuffed her (policy states that everyone that gets into the backseat gets handcuffed behind their back) and put her into the backseat of our patrol vehicle. Immediately, she started complaining. This was going to be a long ride to Southeast jail. Her first complaint was that her handcuffs were too tight. I responded that the handcuffs were not designed to be comfortable. She did not appreciate my comment and stated they were chaffing her wrists and that she could feel a bruise developing. I asked AS if he had put her cuffs on tight, and he said no which is the answer that I expected. AS asked if he should check them, and I left that up to him. He did check the cuffs and loosened them a little bit. With small females this is something that you have to be careful with. She had very small wrists. The cuffs have to be tight enough so that she can not get out of them, but not so tight as to cut off circulation. I hoped that by loosening the cuffs, we would earn some peace and quiet. Nope.

Her next complaint was that she was cold. She was wearing jeans and a fancy tank-top. She was dressed to go out drinking at the nice bars in the area of town in which she had the accident. Drinking she did, she just did not anticipate that pole jumping out in front of her vehicle. She asked for a jacket or a blanket. We are not Continental or Southwest Airlines. We do not have blankets or pillows for our guests. As you can imagine, I was becoming less and less popular with her. AS was actually entertaining the idea of putting his personal jacket on her to keep her warm. Rookie. Next she asked us if we had her driver's license. She said that she had seen it on the desk at Intox. I told her that we did not have her license. When she refused to give the breathalyzer sample, she forfeited her license. She was told this at the time, but she was probably too intoxicated to remember.

She then asked where we were taking her. I told her to Southeast jail, where all females are housed. She asked where that was and we told her. She asked again where we were going. When told she asked what part of town was that? Again, we told her. After more complaining about the cold and the inhumane conditions in the backseat of our patrol vehicle, she asked where we were going again. I was starting to lose my patience. After quite a few more questions about where we were going and what part of town and what road was it on and how do you spell it and I can't hear you, I lost it. I yelled at her. I said, "WE ARE TAKING YOU TO SOUTHEAST JAIL. IT IS ON MYKAWA RD. M Y K A W A." She called me an ass, but she did not speak again the rest of the way to jail. Victory was mine.

Once at the jail, she started complaining again. The jailer dumped out her purse and started inventorying all of the contents. This included 5 prescription pill bottles. We had looked at them earlier, and all of the pills looked to be the same in each bottle. As the jailer dumped them out and started handling the medications, she said, "Do you have to touch them. You are contaminating them." At the very bottom of a bottle of over the counter ibuprofen, the jailer found two pills that did not belong with the others. The jailer found two bars of Xanax. Our female prisoner did not have a prescription for Xanax. That is possession of a controlled substance. Xanax is in penalty group 3 and possession of less than 28 grams is a Class A Misdemeanor, punishable by up to a year in jail and up to a $4000 fine. This was going to create quite a bit more work for us than just transporting her to jail. We had to modify the hold card, weigh and tag the Xanax at the Narcotics division, add another charge, and complete a supplement report. But after the joy she put us through on the drive, we rather enjoyed the extra work.

Posted via email from will7079's posterous