When your lie doesn’t work out

Posted on April 10, 2015 by Badge415

Have you ever had your child give you away when you were trying to tell a lie or keep a secret? How did it work out for you?

On Thursday afternoon I responded to a minor collision call involving two vehicles. When I arrived, one of the drivers said, “That woman just took a car seat out of the trunk and put it in the car.”

I looked over to the car and there were two children sitting in the backseat. There was a two and a half year old little girl strapped into the car seat and a boy sitting next to her. This didn’t sound right so I confirmed with the guy.

“That car seat was in the trunk?”
“Yeah. There were two booster seats. Her husband pulled up and she put one of the boosters into his car.”
“You’re sure?” I asked.
“Yes. The booster seats are black. The boy is sitting on it now and the other is in the other car.”

I then asked the mother if her daughter was sitting in the right rear seat at the time of the collision. The driver told me her daughter was actually in the left rear, but she moved the car seat to the right side.

That didn’t make sense. Who moves a car seat that is strapped in from one side of the car to the other for no reason? That’s when the mother told me she moved the car seat so she could change her daughter’s diaper. Yeah right.

“Did you have that car seat in the trunk before the accident?”
“No.”
“Are you sure? He saw you take the car seat out of the trunk and put it into the car.”
“No, I moved the car seat so I could change the diaper.”
“How old is your son?”
“He’s almost 5 years old.”
“You know kids that age tell the truth. I’ll be right back.”
“He doesn’t speak English. He only speaks Arabic.”
“Really? I’ll be right back.”

I had a feeling this was going to blow up in her face and that’s what made this fun. Anyone who has had kids that age know they’re going to tell the truth when asked something. I walked up to the car and said, “How are you?” He instantly held up four fingers like he was telling me how old he was.

I realized he misunderstood my question. He thought I was asking him how old he was. That was perfect. That meant he understood me. I had him point to his sister’s car seat. He understood that too. I pointed to the trunk and asked if the car seat was in there before. He nodded his head. That’s when mom jumped into the front passenger seat and started speaking to him in Arabic. Nice try lady. I told her to stop and to step out of the car, which she did.

I asked him if Mommy had taken the car seat out of the trunk. Little Johnny threw mom under the bus and then let it back up to finish her off. It was a priceless moment.

I finished by asking him, “Do you understand what I’m saying?” Of course he did, but I wanted him to confirm it, which he did.

I won’t lie. I enjoyed watching her squirm as her son did the only thing he knew how to do at that moment. That was to tell the truth. I walked back to mom and smiled. I let the smile last for a long time as I let the moment sink in.

“Are you ready to tell the truth now?”
“Yes. I’m sorry.”
“You even said he didn’t speak English.”
“He can’t understand it. Ask his teacher.”
“Well, he understood me.”

Nice try again Lady.

She went on to try and justify her lies, but it was too late. I pointed out to her that at least her son knew how to tell the truth to the police.

That just goes to show you. You never know when little Johnny is going to throw you under the bus of embarrassment to the cops.

This job cracks me up. Some people think they’re so smart. The trick is to try and stay one step ahead them. It can sometimes feel like a chess game.

Checkmate for me today.

“Everyone Speaks Tow Truck”

Posted on April 5, 2015 by Badge415

I shouldn’t be surprised at work anymore, but it still happens. Just when I think I’ve seen it all….

On Friday night I went to a call where an unlicensed driver made a left turn in front of another car and they crashed. There was nothing shocking about that because unlicensed drivers crash all the time where I work. It’s the norm rather than the exception.

I went to speak to the unlicensed driver and asked him what happened. He asked me if I spoke Spanish. I told him I didn’t. We weren’t able to communicate so I called for a Spanish speaking officer to respond to assist me.

I called for a tow truck because I was going to impound the unlicensed driver’s truck. I then went to interview the other driver. When I was done with that I stood by waiting for the tow truck and the Spanish speaking officer. That’s when the tow truck pulled up.

I pointed to the crashed truck and told the tow driver that I was impounding that vehicle. That’s when the unlicensed driver said in perfect English, “Why are you taking my truck?”

I actually stared at him for a second wondering how all of the sudden English words were coming out of his mouth. It was like a bolt of lightning struck and turned him into an English speaker. It was of Biblical proportions on Good Friday.

That’s when I said, “I thought you didn’t speak English.”
“I speak a little.”
“784, cancel the Spanish speaker. My driver started speaking English when he saw the tow truck.”
“10-4,” replied the dispatcher.

I was then able to conduct the interview with his English and the “car accident” Spanish that I know.

It was at that moment I was taken back to a saying a friend once said at work. It’s the type of saying that has stayed with me for years and I’ve tried to pass it on to other officers. Those particular words were perfect for this moment…..

“Everyone speaks tow truck.”

No matter what the situation, the sound of a tow truck can wake the heaviest of sleepers. Bring a tow truck into a neighborhood and people will pour out of their apartments.

There could be five police cars parked in a neighborhood and some people might watch. Have a tow truck drive in and doors will fly open. People can’t get out of their apartments fast enough. Even the stray dogs in the area come by to watch.

Up until last night, I had no idea a tow truck had the power to make a person speak English.

Like the saying goes……“Everyone speaks tow truck.”

You Gotta Have Heart

Posted on April 3, 2015 by Badge415

On Wednesday evening I was typing reports in Starbucks. There’s nothing better than having my paperwork spread out all over the table and a drink right next to me. A refill is just steps away.

Every once in a while someone will ask me a question about police work. I don’t mind answering their questions because they get to see me as a real person sitting in Starbucks just like them.

This young guy in his early twenties walked up to me and asked, “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“What’s the difference between a reserve officer and a full time officer?”

I told him the difference and I asked him why he wanted to know.

“I was thinking about being a reserve officer. I figured it was a good way to get my foot in the door,” he said.
“Why don’t you put your foot all the way through the door and try to become a fulltime officer?”
“I was in the process with Anaheim and Costa Mesa, but I pulled out.”
“Why?”
“I got this real estate job and I wanted to try it out. Maybe I’ll do both.”

I got the impression his heart wasn’t into it. He said it like he was trying to decide if he should wear Nike or New Balance shoes. His answer was so casual it didn’t seem like he was that serious about it.

Anyone who has been through the hiring process, the academy, field officer training and then working the street, knows this isn’t the right frame of mind.

That’s when I said, “Either you want it or you don’t. This isn’t a job you try out to see if you like it.”

I wasn’t trying to be mean, but I think he needed to hear straight talk. I then went on.

“This is a rewarding job, but it has its moments. I couldn’t imagine doing anything else. You need to take a look in the mirror and decide how bad you want it. This job isn’t for everyone. Your heart has to be into it.”

He told me he understood and said he had been on some ride alongs. I told him about the different types of situations an officers faces and stressed to him how much responsibility went with the job.

That’s when the radio came to life about an injury collision involving a bicyclist and a truck. I told him good luck and I cleaned up my stuff.

A few minutes later, I was standing over a dead body in the street. The victim’s brains were all over the place.

I then thought back to the guy at Starbucks. I wondered how he would’ve reacted to seeing this.

I could tell he was young and maybe this wasn’t the job for him right now. I’ve spoken to other people his age that were so much more focused about where they were going in life and what they wanted to do. Maybe I was the fork in the road of life for him right now. Only time will tell.

Like I told him, this job isn’t for everyone. It takes a certain type of person to do it. Some people are just made for the job. For some, it’s a calling. It requires sacrifice and determination. I could go on and on, but there’s one thing in the world that’s the most important.

You gotta have heart.

DRE Training

Posted on March 27, 2015 by Badge415

DRE training is a different world

Last night I went up to Fullerton PD to do more DRE evaluations for my certification. I only had two left out of the twelve. It was a good feeling to know I was almost done.

During the process I got to see some interesting people and some interesting choices of clothing. You never knew what was going to walk in.

The first person that came in was so high he couldn’t sit still. He was going a 1,000 miles per hour and every part of his body was either twitching or moving. He couldn’t keep his mouth shut even if he wanted to. His lips were also cracked like a dry lake bed in the desert.

During the evaluation I instructed him to tilt his head back, close his eyes and count thirty seconds with his hands at his sides. It took forever for him to acknowledge the instructions and to listen. When he finally started the test I couldn’t help but laugh.

He tilted his head back and closed his eyes to start, but then he did something I have never seen before.

He raised his hands and pointed his index fingers. He then moved his hands up and down like he was conducting an orchestra. His hands were moving so fast, I assumed his imaginary orchestra was playing just as fast.

At the same time he mumbled at lightning speed. Then the mumble turned into an opera singer performing in a different language. Except this opera signer was high on meth. He was exhausting to watch and keep controlled.

After I was done with #12, I went to get something to eat with two other officers. We were sitting in the restaurant when one of them asked me what it felt like to be done.

“If someone told me six months ago I’d be at this point, I would’ve said they were crazy,” I replied.

I still have a few steps to go before I get my certification, but it’s all down hill from here. I’ve learned a lot during the process and I was certainly taken out of my comfort zone. I was resistant at first, but I’m glad I took the class.

I’ve also grown as an officer.

I want to thank the people at Fullerton PD, who put this class on and who run the evaluations. Their department is a leader in this training and I commend the people who run this program.

Their people are passionate about this and all of our departments can learn from them when it comes to DRE training.

The Mormon Missionary

Posted on March 26, 2015 by Badge415

The funny thing about work is you never know what you’re going to hear next. Every time I think I’ve heard it all, something else comes up.

Yesterday two Mormon missionaries were riding their bicycles as they approached a red light at an intersection. Two witnesses saw them ride through the red light and one of them was hit by a mini-van.

The injured rider had a helmet, but his head injury didn’t make sense to me. I didn’t understand how the back of his head got so bloody with the helmet on. I then found out he had the helmet, but he wasn’t wearing it. It was hanging from his handlebar at the time of the crash.

While the guy was in the ambulance I spoke with his bicycle riding partner. I gave him the report number and asked him if he had any questions.

That’s when he asked a question I have never been asked before while working.

“Have you ever thought about being Mormon?”
“No.” I answered with a smile.
“Ok.”
“I once had a Book of Mormon though.”
“You did?” He asked with a surprised look.
“I was at a hotel in Provo (Utah) when someone gave it to me. I was thirteen at the time.”
“That wasn’t that long ago,” he said with a sly look.

Since I’m forty-four, the look on his face showed he was stretching the truth a bit. It still made me laugh though. What a salesmen!

Up until yesterday, I have never taken a collision report involving a Mormon missionary on a bicycle. I’ve also never taken a crash where the helmet was on the handlebars instead of on the rider’s head. Usually the rider isn’t wearing one at all.

And finally, I have never been asked if I thought about changing religions.

Even after taking 5,700 crashes, work still throws me a curve ball once in a while instead of the usual fastball down the middle.

That’s why I keep coming back. I want to see what’s going to happen next.

Frank’s Back

Posted on March 23, 2015 by Badge415

Frank’s back!

A few days ago I posted a story about a drug addict and thief named Frank, who I met while doing my DRE certifications. They story got people talking because it’s been viewed over 4,300 times on Facebook.

If that story got you upset, then this one should leave you wondering WFT?

Last night I was back at Fullerton PD doing my DRE certifications and guess who I saw? If you said Frank, you’re right. He was under the influence again.

Part of me was surprised and part wasn’t shocked at all.

As soon as I saw Frank, I instantly thought of the story I wrote about him the other day. Frank wasn’t worried about jail then. And guess what? He’s still not worried about it now. Prop 47 says he gets a citation.

It’s his “get out of jail free” card. Actually, it’s a pink copy of his citation.

Remember, the citation is just the cost of doing business to Frank. As long as he signs his ticket he gets out of jail. If he gets a fine he just has to pay it. And where do you think he’ll get his money from?

You again!

He’s a thief and a criminal. That’s the way he described himself last week. Frank steals to pay for his meth, so that means he’ll probably steal to pay for his fine too.

So, Frank just needs to visit your house, business or break into your car to get the money to pay off his debt. Problem solved. His fine is paid and he gets to roam your neighborhood to feed his habit. Oh, I forgot to mention that Frank is also a documented gang member.

Not to rub it in, but Frank would’ve stayed in custody if it wasn’t for Prop 47.

Some people think being under the influence is a “victimless crime.” Well, tell that to the person whose house or car was broken into. They’ll tell you they felt violated and were the real victims.

Who thought Prop 47 was a good idea anyways? Oh yeah, the people who voted it in. The Franks of the world thank you for it.

The Highs and Lows of The Job

Posted on March 21, 2015 by Badge415

Tonight was the perfect example of how one call can be a complete polar opposite of the very next.

I went to a call involving two tourist who just happened to crash into each other. This woman drove two hours to watch her granddaughter compete in a cheerleading competition today. She was on her way home when her vehicle was disabled in the collision.

She was now stranded far from home with no transportation. Taking a taxi was not an option. If she wanted a rental car she would have to go to the Orange County Airport because everything else was closed. That wasn’t going to work either.

She now needed a hotel room for the night. I told the woman I wasn’t going to leave her alone and I would drive her to whatever hotel she wanted to go to.

We were in front of the Double Tree Hotel, so she checked there first. They were having trouble finding her a room and it looked like I was going to drive her somewhere else.

While we waited, she showed me a competition photo of her granddaughter and she asked about my family.

The hotel finally found her a room and it was time for me to leave. The woman thanked me again for staying and not leaving her alone. She then asked, “Can I give you a hug?” I told her she could and we both smiled. She then gave me a giant hug and I left.

I was feeling pretty good after that because it’s not every day in this job that you have an interaction like that.

The very next call didn’t have the same happy ending.

I heard the call go out over the radio about a woman who was not breathing and a family member was performing CPR at that moment. I was close by and off I went with lights and siren.

I was hired in 1994 and graduated from the academy in February of 1995. Up until last summer I had never performed CPR on anyone except for the dummy at training.

Now I was en route to CPR attempt number three since August. The first two times didn’t work out for me or the victims. Now I was feeling apprehension and dread as I raced toward the house because I knew I was going to be the first one there.

When I pulled up to the house I was mentally prepared for what I was about to do. This was different than when I performed CPR the first two times.

I went into the upstairs bedroom and there was a woman in her mid-sixties lying in a hospital bed. A man was bent over doing chest compressions on his wife of forty-five years.

I then took over for him as he watched with hope. This didn’t look good, but I still had to try. She had a lifeless look on her face and some type of fluid was coming out of her mouth.

I was in an awkward position, but I kept pumping away as I waited for the paramedics. Two minutes seemed to take forever until they arrived. When they did, they hooked up a monitor and checked for a heartbeat.

She was flat lined and they pronounced her right there. They then pulled the sheet over her face and told the family they were sorry for their loss.

She was about the same age as the woman who just hugged me on the last call.

There was nothing else I could have done. I stood in the hallway as her husband called someone and said, “Mom’s dead.”

I felt kind of weird being there to hear him make that call since this was such a private moment. It took me back to when I told my kids that my father had passed away.

Now it was time for them to grieve for their wife, mother and grandma. It was also time for me to go to another call.

Tonight was the perfect example of the roller coaster ride we call police work.

This job is also just like Forest Gump and his box of chocolates. You never know what you’re going to get……

Where Does An Addict Get His Money?

Posted on March 20, 2015 by Badge415

The other night I went to Fullerton PD for my DRE certifications as part of the class I completed a few weeks ago. I had an interesting conversation with a suspect and I wanted to share it with people who are not familiar with addicts.

First of all, most of these people don’t have jobs, but they need income to support their habit. Where do you think they get their money from?

From you!

These addicts break into your cars, your houses and your businesses. They steal and then steal some more.

During our conversation I asked him how often he uses meth and marijuana. Without hesitation he replied, “Every day.”

“How do you feel when you don’t do meth?

“I get anxiety.”

“Does the drug make you feel well?” I asked.

“Yeah.”

“Do you drink?”

“No.”

“How come?”

“Because I lose everything when I drink.”

“What do you mean?”

“I lose my car and I go to jail. So, now I don’t drink at all.”

“How many DUI’s do you have?”

“Two.”

“How much do you spend a day on meth?”

“$300.”

“Do you have a job?”

“No.”

Let’s assume he over estimated his daily usage. Either way he still needs money for his habit. Where do you think he gets that money from?

“Where do you steal from?” I asked.

“I don’t do anything in my city. I have pride in my city.”

It seemed like he really wanted me to understand he had pride in his city and it was important to him that I knew that. I asked him more questions about his thefts, but he didn’t want to tell me. At one point he smiled and said, “I’m a criminal.”

At least he knows it.

Is this a guy you want roaming around your city? Absolutely not, but guess what? He was cited out. He was cited out like all the people who were arrested for being under the influence of a drug that night.

He was cited out because of Prop 47 in California. Prior to Prop 47, he would’ve remained in custody for the under the influence and drug paraphernalia charges. Now we have to cite him out. I’m sure that pink copy of the citation made him feel bad.

He said he normally starts to feel the anxiety about six hours after doing meth. That means he’s ready for more meth or he has to find more before that feeling of anxiety takes over.

Guess what he’s going to do if he’s short on cash? You guessed it. He’s going to rip someone off.

I still find it shocking that people in California voted for Prop 47 and allow people like Frank to be out on the street to do their thing.

What if Frank gets caught stealing at a store? He’ll get another citation for petty theft. That’s just an inconvenience to Frank. It’s the cost of doing business.

Eventually things will catch up with Frank, but right now he only has to worry about a citation. County jail time is the least of his worries.

Frank’s job is stealing and getting high. At thirty-one years old he’s got all the time in the world.

I work in the Twilight Zone

Posted on March 19, 2015 by Badge415

Sometimes it seems like I never get a normal collision call to handle. There’s always something.

Here’s what I consider a normal call.

All the drivers have licenses.
There are no injuries.
Everyone has insurance.
No hit and run.
No one has been drinking or taking drugs.
There are only two vehicles.
There’s no drama.

It’s not like I’m asking for much.

There was a call last Wednesday night that didn’t come close to what I just described. It was just one of those weird calls where I was in the Twilight Zone.

For the story we’re going to refer to one guy as DUI Man and the other as Motorcycle Man. Then there’s Motorcycle Man’s son. We’ll call him Knucklehead.

On that day, DUI Man was driving his vehicle even though he was never issued a license. The unlicensed part didn’t bother him because he drives all the time.

DUI Man doubled parked his truck in the middle of the street in front of his house. He left it there so he could talk with a friend. I’m sure parking in the driveway would’ve been too easy.

While DUI Man was talking to a friend, Motorcycle Man started riding up and down the street, even though he didn’t have a motorcycle endorsement on his license. DUI Man thought he was riding too fast and he was concerned for the neighborhood children. He decided to tell Motorcycle Man to slow down.

Let me say that again. DUI Man was worried about the safety of the neighborhood kids.

Motorcycle Man’s son (Knucklehead) didn’t like this and decided he needed to get involved for some reason. Before you knew it, Knucklehead and DUI Man were fighting in the middle of the street. The crowd separated them and DUI Man wanted to leave.

DUI Man jumped into his vehicle, but there was one small problem. DUI Man was really DUI. As he drove off, he sideswiped Motorcycle Man’s car by accident. He then fled the scene, but returned a short time later.

DUI Man walked up to me and wanted to report an assault and battery because he was a victim. Did I mention that DUI Man was also an illegal alien and they were neighbors? Not that it mattered, but it just made the story that much more bizarre.

DUI Man ended up getting arrested and went to jail. Of course, this wasn’t his first DUI arrest.

That’s when I learned a little bit about Knucklehead. It turned out he was in his thirties and still lives at home. He is unemployed and has “Three baby’s mammas.” Those were his words.

He has a couple of arrests for domestic violence, but he just got off probation. I’m sure he’ll treat the new “Baby’s Mamma” much better than the last two.

I forgot to mention that Knucklehead was shot during a drive-by years ago and his license is suspended for not paying child support.

The only thing missing from this call were circus animals, clowns and some midgets.

The next call was much easier. That one involved an unlicensed driver who, crashed head-on into another car while on the wrong side of the road.

There was a restriction on the victim driver’s license for corrective lenses so I asked him where his glasses were.

The driver told me ink spilled on his glasses and they were smashed. After that, the glasses were in the kitchen and the dog, “Disappeared them.”

“Your dog ate your glasses?” I asked with a hint of sarcasm.

“It was a Pit Bull,” he said.

That was the funniest thing I heard all night. See, you just can’t make this stuff up.

“It’s Ferguson All Over Again”

Posted on March 17, 2015 by Badge415

You never know when hatred is going to be spewed your way.
Let me first say this. For the most part, the people I deal with are pretty nice. Most of my calls involve normal people who crash into each other and they’re happy to see an officer. And almost everyone says thank you when I give them a card with the report number.

When it comes to having a vehicle impounded, they’re still pretty nice despite the circumstances. They may be upset, but they still hold it together.

They already know they’re in the wrong in the first place for being unlicensed or having a suspended license. It’s pretty cut and dry. Either you have a license or you don’t. There’s not much to debate there.

I wanted to share an unusual call from last Friday night. It was actually more than unusual. It was downright ridiculous. Let me start by giving the facts about the crash.

• This woman made a left turn in front of another vehicle and they collided into each other. She was clearly at fault, but she was upset at the other woman. The best quote up until that point was, “Can’t a person make a left turn without someone hitting them?”
• She didn’t have car insurance.
• She recently purchased the car, but it wasn’t in her name yet.
• Her license was suspended for failure to appear.
• Her failure to appear was for an insurance ticket.
• She moved twice and never notified the DMV of her address change.
• The other driver was transported to the hospital by ambulance.

When it came to driving a car, she was pretty much wrong in every possible category. So, I really didn’t think there was going to be problem when I told her the vehicle was being impounded.

Boy was I wrong.

The first thing the driver told me was I was being racist. That’s when she yelled out, “It’s Ferguson all over again,” as she waved her arms around. It went downhill from there. Her performance was more Golden Globe than Academy Award. It was more PBS than Prime Time.

I couldn’t help but laugh inside at how dumb she sounded.

From there the drama was non-stop while we waited for the tow truck. She yelled and screamed for about twenty minutes. I was surprised she didn’t take a water break at some point.

Her behavior was so over the top it left me shaking my head in disbelief. I was really happy we had the body cameras rolling for this spectacle.

At one point, she actually bent over and yelled into the camera like a crazy woman.

Who does that?

Then her mom showed up and it started all over again. Nothing like having the mother of a twenty-nine year old woman show up at a collision scene and call you a racist too.

The show was finally over when the tow truck left with her car.

It’s still hard to believe she compared her irresponsibility and the impounded of her car to the events that occurred last year in Ferguson, MO.

I understand she only saw the badge. I wasn’t a person, a father, a husband, or a minority to her. I was just a cop.

I didn’t get my feelings hurt or even take anything personally. It’s sometimes part of the job to deal with people like that and there’s nothing I can do that will ever change her mind.

There’s one big difference between she and I.

The difference is I don’t see all citizens as assholes like she sees all cops.

I just see them as regular people that call the police for help. Every once in a while an asshole is thrown in there just to make things interesting though.

She will forever live in her close minded world. She will only see the badge and never see the person behind it.

That’s okay because there are plenty of nice people out there that still make this job worth doing.

I only tell this story to show how crazy, irrational and downright dumb some people can act when they’re mad at the police.

One last closing thought.

Go pound sand lady. I’m still proud to put that badge on and help people.