About Badge415

I'm a police officer in Southern California and my goal is to show the human side of police work. I've been with my department for 20 years and I feel I have something to offer from my point of view.

Not all shootings are like the movies

Posted on June 11, 2015 by Badge415

On Saturday night I had the pleasure of having my son on another ride along. He would go out with me every night if he could because he wants to be an officer.

The first two hours of my shift were spent trying to catch up on my paperwork. My son was like a caged lion that was pacing back and forth in the office. Every so often he’d ask when we were going outside. Each time I said, “When I’m done.”

For some reason, the night was unusually slow and he was itching to see action. As the hours ticked away toward EOW(end of watch) the chances of action were slipping through his fingers.

At about 1:30AM we met two of my friends at a legendary taco place for some food. My son was having fun listening to guy talk, but he wanted to get back into the police car. I could also tell he was getting tired because he had been up all day.

That’s when that sleepy eyed look sprang to life when a shooting call went out. We were only about two blocks away from the call so we headed that way.

As we left the restaurant my son was walking fast and leaving me behind as he went toward our car. I pointed out to him it didn’t matter how fast he got to the car because I was the one driving.

While we were en-route, an officer broadcasted over the radio that the victim was shot in the arm and was uncooperative.

We were the fifth car on scene as we drove into a rundown neighborhood that had seen better days in the 1950s. The apartment buildings were in disrepair and tired looking. There was graffiti spray painted all over the walls as a reminder that gang members believed this patch of concrete belonged to them.

We got out of the car and walked up to the victim, who was lying in the grass in front of an apartment complex. He had a shaved head and was wearing the trade mark baggy white t-shirt and dark pants of a gang member.

An officer was applying pressure to the wound as we waited for the fire department to arrive. My son stood next to me as he watched everything that was going on and being said. He was like a sponge at that moment taking it all in. If only he would listen to my wife with that much attention.

After a little while we left because there was nothing to do. As we drove away my son said, “I thought there would be more blood.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I also thought he would be in more pain. It’s not like the movies.”

“Sometimes there is more blood. It just depends on where the person gets shot,” I told him.

He then made me laugh as he said, “You really have to be ghetto if you won’t even tell the cops who shot you.”

“Some of these guys won’t say anything when they’re shot,” I replied.

“You guys were so calm. It was like you see that every day.” I couldn’t help but smile at that. It’s true. That stuff really does becomes “normal” after a while on this job. It’s just part of this crazy journey called police work.

But it’s not my fault

Posted on June 9, 2015 by Badge415

There’s a something funny that happens when a person finds out they’re at fault when they rear end another car. You would think it was pretty obvious who was at fault in that situation, but sometimes there’s drama when they ask.

The rear end collision is one of the most common I go. You would think this particular type of collision would be the easiest to avoid since the car was right in front of the other driver. There’s no surprises here. The car was either moving, slowing down or stopped.

After the collision the driver will sometimes ask if they’re at fault for rear ending the car. I actually think it’s funny when they ask that. That’s like a baseball player dropping an easy fly ball and asking if it was his fault.

They other night I went to a rear end collision where the driver was shocked when she found out she was at fault for crashing into the vehicle in front of her. She was going 40 miles per hour while following a vehicle less than a car length behind when the car stopped in front of her.

Of course, she didn’t have time to stop and crashed into the car. One person went to the hospital and one of the cars had to be towed. She then wanted to debate and argue with me when she asked if she was at fault.

There’s something that happens to people who can’t believe they’re at fault when they rear end a car. I call this the “I can’t believe I’m at fault” reaction.

First there’s the look of disbelief. Their eyes get wide, the jaw clinches, the head goes back and the upper body makes an involuntary jerk to the rear. They then shake their head side to side like it’s going to go away.

This particular reaction comes in different levels of disbelief, which makes it funnier at times. The reaction can be very slight to down right drama.

Once the reaction has been displayed I try and explain to the driver that they have to drive at a speed and distance that is safe for the conditions.

Whenever the person hears that they come back with, “But I was.” They say this without realizing that they just crashed into the back of a car that was stopped in front of them.

If they had been driving at a speed and distance that was safe for the conditions I would still be sitting in Starbucks rather than standing in the street with them.

Never mind that there’s an ambulance and a fire truck taking the victim away, who was just violently assaulted from behind by a 3,000lbs object on four wheels.

The process of explaining this can be painful at times, because the driver is in defensive mode. At that point they just want to debate.

There finally comes a point where nothing I say is good enough. That’s when I bring out this one simple sentence that works every time. It’s the “I should’ve had a V8” moment for the driver who is arguing with me.

I say, “You just can’t around hitting cars.”

Once the person hears that they stop arguing. Sometimes they display the “I can’t believe I’m at fault” reaction again. That means I get to see their body involuntarily jerk backwards again, along with the jaw clenching and shake of the head. This time the eyes don’t get wide. They instead squint like the villain from a Disney movie.

Too bad I can’t say what I really want to…….. ” You just can’t go around hitting shit.”

Was His Name Ricky Bobby?

Posted on June 7, 2015 by Badge415

If you’ve seen the movie Talladega Nights then you know who Ricky Bobby is. If you haven’t seen it, then you need to because it’s a pretty damn funny movie. I crack up just thinking of the name Ricky Bobby.

I had my son on a ride along tonight when we went to a “check the welfare” call at one of our local motels. A man called the police asking that officers check on his wife, who was at the motel because she was crying and not answering his questions.

Just thinking about that made me wonder what kind of people we were dealing with. Who calls the cops to check on their wife at a rundown motel when they’re in another city? Of course, that’s what makes this job interesting.

Two other patrol cops walked into the motel room first. There was a woman in the room, who was drunk and alone. She was crying and very emotional. We stood there while she told the officers what the problem was between sobs. Empty liquor bottles were on the desk and dresser like trophies.

From the start it looked like she was a sloppy drunk with tear soaked hair that was stuck to her face. She was a hot mess for sure.

At one point one of the officers named Pete, asked the woman what her husband’s name was. She said he wasn’t her husband. It was just her boyfriend and his name was, “Robert Bobby.”

I couldn’t resist and said, “Did you say Ricky Bobby?”

“No, Robert Bobby,” she replied.

Without hesitation, Pete said, “I thought she said Ricky Bobby.”

I almost lost it when Heather, the other officer said, “I thought it was Ricky too.” I had to turn away because I saw my son start to laugh.

For the next twenty minutes she attempted to tell us about Robert. Every so often I would ask if she meant Ricky. She gave me an exasperated look every time she heard Ricky and corrected me by saying, “No, it’s Robert.”

It finally came to a climax when she attempted to call Robert on the phone, but he hung up on her. I asked if she was calling Ricky Bobby. She got frustrated and said, “Why do you guys keep calling him Ricky? Does he have another name I don’t know about?”

I turned around again because I almost busted up. I was just hopping my son wouldn’t look at me and make me laugh.

When we finally left the motel room my son said, “She obviously never saw the movie.”

Thanks Ricky Bobby for making that call so memorable. We now have a new inside joke for the rest of our careers.

“If ain’t first, you’re last.” – Famous quote from the real Ricky Bobby. Not Robert Bobby.

When your street race doesn’t go as planned

Posted on June 5, 2015 by Badge415

Sometimes I’ll be on a call and another officer will ask me if the story is going to make the blog. It’s funny to me because I’m usually thinking the same thing.

The other night I was on a stop and I said to myself, “This has blog written all over it.” I was even tempted to tell the driver he was going to make the blog because of his stupidity. I also wanted to tell him he was one of the reasons why I have new stories every night.

Let me back up so I can explain how I met Mr. Speed Racer with no brain.

I was stopped at a red light thinking about all the reports I had to write because of the collision epidemic that my city sometimes suffers from. That’s when I heard the sound of skidding tires and an engine revving. A few seconds later I saw a car approaching from the opposite direction, which was clearly the winner of a race. The loser was in the next lane bringing up the rear.

I made a turn and waited for Mr. Speed Racer to go by me. Even though I was busy, Mr. Speed Racer needed some attention because of his lack of decision making skills.

I stopped him and asked, “Why do you think I stopped you?”

“You think I was racing,” replied Mr. Speed Racer.

“What would make you think that?”

He went on to tell me the other driver challenged him so that was why he was racing. He also told me he had been cited for racing a few years ago and the ticket cost him $800. I asked him why in the world he would race again if it cost him that much. Mr. Speed Racer told me it was because the other driver challenged him.

It was clear to me that this 24 year old didn’t see the big picture in life. It made me wonder how I could provide world class customer service to this individual so he would see the error of his ways.

I went back to my car and did a records check on his name. I was surprised my computer didn’t freeze up and crash from all of the times he had been stopped and had his car impounded. I was also surprised to find out he had been stopped by our department at least ten times.

I did some research on his stops and I saw my name attached to one of them from May of 2007. It turned out I stopped him and impounded his car for driving while unlicensed eight years ago. What are the odds of that?

I went back up the Mr. Speed Racer and asked him how many times his car had been impounded. He said, “A lot.”

“I impounded your car too.”

He looked at me and said, “You did?”

After I was done with the stop, I knew Mr. Speed Racer was going to be immortalized in a Badge415 blog story. He’s a perfect example of people who make poor decisions and wonder why the police are talking to them.

I’m pretty sure Mr. Speed Racer will lose his license again after my stop. And I’m really sure he’ll get his car impounded again too.

Who knows, maybe I’ll be the one who stops him again and we’ll have Mr. Speed Racer 2.0 blog story. I’m confident he’ll never learn his lesson until he hurts himself or someone else.

Until then, be on the lookout for Mr. Speed Racer and other people like him. Unfortunately they don’t care and never learn their lesson.

The night I heard “Officer Down” on the radio

Posted on June 2, 2015 by Badge415

“Officer down! Officer Down! We need units code 3!”

Those were the words from our helicopter pilot in December, 2004 when he saw one of our officers get hit by a car. The tone in his voice told everyone this was bad and to get there fast.

I was parked behind a building at the time with some friends while taking a break when that radio transmission went out. It didn’t seem real and it took a moment for the words “Officer down” to sink in. I can still picture where I was standing and how I felt when I heard the radio come to life.

I jumped into my car and raced to the location like everyone else. The collision was at least two miles away and I pushed the car as hard as I’ve ever pushed a police car before or since. The radio traffic was frantic and it seemed like it took forever to get there.

At one point, there was a radio transmission about organizing an escort for the ambulance. At ache shot through me as I heard that and feared the worst.

Who was it? I still had no idea. I didn’t want to see one of my co-workers dead. Nobody does.

As I got closer to the crash, the tension rose 1,000% because I didn’t know what I was going to see when I got there. I knew there was nothing I could do to help, but there was still the need to get there fast.

I pulled up just as the ambulance was about to leave. There was a long line of police cars in front of the ambulance ready to clear intersections on the way to the hospital. I was filled with dread as I got out of my car.

I walked up to an officer and asked, “Who was it?”
“Kelly.”
“How bad is it?”
“I don’t know.”

I saw his police car in the middle of the street facing one way and the car that hit him facing the other. Its windshield was shattered and it looked bad. I stood there for a moment and took everything in as I decided where to start. The thought of the impact made me cringe.

There was a warm breeze coming from the east due to a Santa Ana Wind condition that night. The scene was quiet and somber after the ambulance left because no one knew how badly hurt Kelly was. After everything calmed down the only sound was from the idling patrol cars and the police radio. The sea of police lights were a reminder to anyone who drove by that something bad had happened here.

Kelly’s gun and equipment were strewn in the street in a perfect V from the area of impact. I noticed a steno pad lying among the debris which looked like someone put it there. It was in perfect condition. Everything else in the street was in total disarray.

An officer walked up to me and said, “I put the steno pad there because I didn’t want Kelly’s hair to fly away.”

What he said didn’t make sense and it made me go to the steno pad to see what he was talking about. I knelt down and lifted it up.

That’s when I saw Kelly’s hair waving in the wind. It was like seaweed swishing side to side as it reached up to the sunlight from the ocean floor. His hair was actually stuck to the asphalt liked it was glued down.

I then looked at the upper corner of the windshield and saw another peculiar sight that was almost as weird as Kelly’s hair being stuck to the asphalt. There were dark blue fibers in the shattered glass. The fibers were small, but clear as day. They were from his uniform and were frozen in time like a fossil waiting to be discovered.

While I was still at the scene, word came from the hospital that Kelly was talking and doing better than was first thought. With that news the mood at the collision scene changed.

Later that night I sat down with the helicopter pilot and he told me what happened. It was intense hearing him describe Kelly getting hit by the car. I could tell he felt helpless as he flew overhead.

It’s funny because there is a new generation of cops at work that drive by that spot every day, who have no idea what happened there a decade ago. To the newer cops, it’s an east/west street. To me it’s a memory from a crazy night where everything was in chaos and one of my friends was hurt.

By the way, Kelly returned to work a few months later and made a full recovery.

Oh, and remember that hair that was blowing in the wind? Well, Kelly still has a bald spot on the back of his head after all these years……

Stay safe out there.

Last month was out of control

Posted on June 1, 2015 by Badge415

“Does every city have the same problems with crashes that we do or is it just us?”

That was the question I asked one of my traffic partners on Sunday morning after handling six traffic collisions that night, which included two DUI crashes.

“I think it’s just us,” was his reply.

I have kept track of the number of collisions I’ve handled since I started working in the traffic detail in January of 1999. It turned out May of 2015 was a little out of control in the city where I work. That’s why I was glad to see June 1st on the calendar.

It was actually the second highest total in my career for the number of traffic collision reports I took in one month. The grand total for May was 54 crashes. After last month I can’t imagine what the summer months are going to be like.

The national statistics related to traffic collision deaths in the United States has gone down over the last decade, but it seems like the number of collisions we handle has gone up.

Right before the recession started, traffic collisions were out of control every single night. I called it the Wild West because it seemed like every pole in the city was being crashed into nightly. It also seemed like every drunk driver took a detour through the city.

Then the recession hit and things really calmed down around 2009 and 2010. It was a like a ghost town some nights with no one crashing, which was good. It was nothing like the rest of the 2000s.

Since then I’ve seen a gradual increase in accidents and the volume of work that we do. It’s like the Wild West again and business is booming, which is not good for the average driver in my city.

I guess this means the recession is truly over because there are tons of people out there crashing like never before. It also means I might break my record if things continue the way they are.

One thing is for sure, I won’t break my record in June. It’s not because everyone is going to be careful. It’s because I’ll be on a cruise ship for a week and I’ll have a margarita in my hand instead of a flashlight and a clipboard.

Remember to keep your eyes open out there because we don’t want to meet by accident.

The “body” in the trash bag

Posted on May 30, 2015 by Badge415

“There are four males in the restroom with a child in a trash bag.”

That’s what I heard on the radio while driving to another call tonight. The dispatcher was sending patrol cars to an unknown trouble call at a local park. She also broadcasted that the child looked to be about 7 years old.

Say what?

I had no choice after hearing that. The people in the traffic collision could wait because I was going to this call first.

I arrived at the park about a minute after the call went out. There was a group of males standing in front of the restroom. They looked calm and were talking. They didn’t even seem to notice my patrol car driving on the grass. I got out of my car and asked, “Is there a kid in a trash bag?”

A male in the group said, “No.”

“We got a call about a kid inside a trash bag in the bathroom.”

That’s when the male seemed to know what I was talking about as he said, “Oh, we’re making a movie.” The male, who was holding a camera, told me there was a doll in the bathroom.

It was dusk, so the restroom was dark. I walked in and saw a head and body wrapped in a trash bag like a mummy on the floor. The “body” was propped up against the wall like it was leaning against it.

Then I saw something that looked freaky. There was an eye staring at me from the doll head that was partially covered by the trash bag. There was also dark curly hair sticking out. The “body” looked like it was the size of a 5 year old child. With the darkness fast approaching, it looked real.

The male walked in and started stomping on the “body” to show me it was fake. The entire scene was bizarre. I must’ve have been in the Twilight Zone for a brief moment.

At first glance, it really did look like a body. Even though it was stomped on I still pulled open the bag so I could make sure it wasn’t a real face. That of course, made the “filmmakers” laugh when they saw me do that.

They explained to me about making a movie for a college course. I told them they were lucky the officers hadn’t walked in on them standing over the “body.” You could tell they hadn’t thought about that. Hopefully the three police cars, police motorcycle and helicopter overhead showed them how serious it was taken when we got the 911 call.

I got back in my car and spoke into the microphone as I said, “I’m 10-8 from the fake kid in the trash bag call.” I drove out of the park knowing I’d have a story to tell my kids when I woke up on Saturday.

When I put my uniform on Friday afternoon I never thought I’d be standing in a restroom watching someone stomp on a fake child’s body that was wrapped in a black trash bag with a big eyeball staring at me.

Once again, you can’t make this stuff up.

“You’re Making Me Sound Irresponsible”

Posted on May 24, 2015 by Badge415

On Halloween night in 2014, three girls were killed in a hit and run crash while trick or treating in Santa Ana, CA. Two of the girls were twins. I remember hearing the news on my way to work that night. I actually closed my eyes and shook my head when I heard about the twins. How awful for a family to lose two daughters in one crash. It gave me an ache inside that three kids were killed about the same time I was trick or treating with my kids.

As a father I couldn’t imagine what the families were going through. As a collision investigator I was glad I wasn’t the one who had to handle that call.

A few days later my partner sent me a picture from a news story about the suspect being arrested for the Santa Ana hit and run.

The person in the photo was Jaquinn Bell. I knew who he was because I met him in August of that same year. He had crashed while DUI in my city with his two kids in the car.

During our conversation that night he denied crashing. He also told me he parked his car, but didn’t know where it was. I repeated back to him some of the things he said because he sounded silly. At one point he said, “You’re making me sound irresponsible.” Nope. He was doing that all by himself.

On the night we met him he tried hiding between two houses, but was seen by witnesses and officers. He was actually on the phone with his dad at the time as he told his kids to get down when the officers arrived. He showed everyone how irresponsible he really was that night. He also showed it again on October 31st.

The other day he was sentenced to 15 years in prison for the collision in Santa Ana. The time he’ll spend in prison won’t bring back those girls, but at least he won’t be able to hurt anyone else for a long time. That’s the only positive thing from this story.

In closing, I have one thing to say to you Mr. Bell.

I hope you see those bodies when you close your eyes at night. I also hope it haunts you for the rest of your life. You had no right to take those girls away from their parents.

“You Can’t Make This Stuff Up”

Posted on May 19, 2015 by Badge415

“You can make this stuff up.”

That’s a saying in police work that everyone can relate to. It’s a simple sentence that describes so much of what we see and hear during our “normal” shift.

The other night my friend Sean and I were talking about some old stories related to that subject.

I told him a story about a crash I took on Wednesday night involving a guy with an ignition interlock device installed on his car. The driver was heading to our jail to stay the night as part of his drunk driving sentence.

He was talking on the phone and trying to blow into the machine while driving at the same time. He was too busy blowing into the machine and ended up crashing into the car in front of him. He described it to me as trying to multitask.

Sean said, “That guy can’t get a break.”
“No, he can’t. He said he lost his job that same day too.”

See, you can’t make this stuff up.

Sean then asked me, “Do you remember The Chief?”
“I took the crash when he was killed.”

The Chief was a famous transient because he was a mean drunk who liked to fight with the police. I never met him, but I was there for The Chief’s final call for service.

On that night The Chief got hit by a car while riding his bike. The car took off and left him lying in the street. That’s when another car ran him over while driving in the opposite direction. The second driver stopped and said she thought she hit him. I looked under her front bumper and saw a bunch of blood. I said, “Yeah, you hit him too.”

After I cleared the scene I drove to the hospital that was down the street. I walked in and a nurse asked me if I had been at the crash.

I said, “Yes.”
“Was that The Chief?”
“Yeah.”
“Was he killed?
Yeah.”
“Good. That means he won’t come in here again.”

You can’t make this stuff up…..

Last week another friend named Timi told me a story that had me laughing for days. About 18 years ago a man called the police because his poodle was taken by another man.

Timi went to the suspect’s location and knocked on the door. A man answered and Timi asked him if he had a dog. The man replied he did. Timi told him she was there because someone called about a stolen dog.

That’s when a recently painted purple poodle appeared. The man told the officers that his poodle was purple and the other dog was white so it couldn’t be the same dog. Nice try, but the purple dog gave it away.

Another reason to say, “You can’t make this stuff up.”

And then who can ever forget the drunk driver who crashed the other night? She was DUI and six months pregnant. After crashing into a pole, she pulled her pants down and left a number two right there on the sidewalk.

I’m still shaking my head at that one.

Once again. You can’t make this stuff up.

Just Call Her Poopy Pants

Posted on May 18, 2015 by Badge415

There’s one thing for sure about this job. We see people at their worst. At their lowest of lows. At rock bottom. We see them at their Poopy Pants worst.

Some of this is self-inflicted. Some of it is just bad luck. The self-inflicted stuff is where the comedy of this profession comes out. It’s where some of the best stories come from. It’s where you stand there and say, “I can’t believe I just saw that.” Last Friday night will go down in history as one of the most unusual stories from a collision scene I have ever witnessed.

An injury traffic collision went out at about 2:15AM involving a vehicle that struck a pole. This is a pretty typical call for that time of the night so I didn’t think anything of it.

I drove down the street and saw a pole imbedded into the front of a car. An ambulance just arrived and there was another patrol car there. I got out of my car and walked up to an officer. He pointed to the crashed car and said, “She’s taking a dump on the sidewalk.”

Now, that’s not something you hear every day.

I looked over to the car and saw the passenger door open with a woman squatting down on the edge of the vehicle next to the seat. She was partially blocked by ambulance personnel.

I walked up and saw her pajama pants pulled down to her knees and there was a pile of you know what right underneath her. There was a strong odor of a person who had been drinking and who had just left a “number two” on the sidewalk. I have seen many people pee and vomit themselves while drunk, but this took it to an entirely new level.

Did I mention she was six months pregnant and unlicensed?

You just can’t make this stuff up.

When the tow truck driver arrived I pointed out the mess because I didn’t want him to step in it. The tow driver looked at it and said he didn’t want poop on the bed of his truck. I found it funny he was worried about that. Never mind all of the cars that have leaked hazardous fluids onto his flatbed tow truck in the past? Now he was worried about a little number two.

The tow truck driver then did his best to maneuver the front of the vehicle around the pile of poop with the skill of an artist painting a masterpiece. Instead of paint and brushes, he tugged and pulled with the cable and used a shim under one of the tires as the vehicle turned. Once the right front tire cleared the pile he completed the job and I left.

As I drove away I couldn’t help laughing and thinking how this woman was SOL (shit out of luck). I also remembered what a shitty job this was. And most of all, you also can’t make this shit up (I couldn’t resist).