A few months ago, I was sent to a call in which a woman wanted to speak to officers about witchcraft. This was a first for me. I’ve always been a Jedi Mind Trick sort of guy, but I’d give the witchcraft conversation a shot.

I was working a graveyard patrol shift when I was sent to an apartment at 4:30AM. The gate was locked, so I asked dispatch to call the RP (reporting party) to let us in.

We waited for a while, but no one came to the gate. After a few minutes I got on the radio and asked, “Can you call the RP and see if they could make up a spell to open the gate?”

A minute later the RP appeared as she walked down a pathway toward us. She was in her late 30s, short, had a round face and brown shoulder length wavy hair. She was wide eyed with a gaze that was cast downward. She only spoke Spanish, so I called dispatch and had someone translate for me over the phone.

The woman told the translator someone had cast a spell on her because they were jealous of her kids. Cast a spell on her? This was indeed a new type of call for me.
I asked the woman where her children were. The woman replied her kids lived with someone else.

We handed the phone back and forth as I used the translator to help us communicate. In the end she didn’t want to hurt herself, but she was truly fearful of the witchcraft that was around her. It was her reality. I could’ve said, “Boo” and she would’ve jumped into the air.

She said she wanted to talk to a mental health professional and we arranged transportation for her. As she left I thought about how lucky we were that she didn’t own a black cat. I didn’t see a broom either.