The tow truck and the bathroom

Posted on July 3, 2015 by Badge415

Last night I saw a tow truck run a stop sign right in front of me while going at least 20 miles per hour. I followed it to the next stop sign because I wanted to see if the driver was going to do it again. Of course, the driver rolled through that stop sign also, but not as bad as the first one.

I stopped the tow truck and walked up to the driver side. The driver had a weird look on his face as he opened the door so we could talk.

He handed me his license as I asked, “Why didn’t you stop for the stop sign?”

“I have to go to the bathroom,” he said.

“You do?” I said with a raised eyebrow. I’ve heard this excuse before and I wasn’t buying it.

“Yes. Bad.”

“Where are you going to use the bathroom at?” I asked.

“I don’t know.”

Maybe he had to use the restroom, but I wasn’t sure if it was as bad as he was making it out to be. I decided to write him a ticket because he hadn’t tried to stop for either stop sign.

I started to walk away, but then turned around as I asked, “Number 1 or number 2?”

“It’s going to be number 3,” he said with a serious look.

I wrote the ticket a little faster just in case……

You just can’t make this stuff up.

The day I stopped Batman (Well, not really)

Posted on June 30, 2015 by Badge415

How many people can say they stopped Batman?

The other day I was driving down the street while at work when I saw a guy stopped on the side of the rode on his bicycle. He had one foot on the curb and he was looking down at something.

What really caught my eye was the word BATMAN on the back of his tank top. As I passed him, I thought it would be a funny picture to make it look like the police stopped Batman.

I dismissed the thought and kept driving. But this BAT opportunity would never come up again, so I turned around and headed back. I figured, how hard could it be to ask the guy.

By this time, Batman was riding his bicycle again along the curb. He didn’t have a cape, nor was Robin, The Boy Wonder, there as his partner. It was just a guy in his late 40’s with a shaved head, goatee, mustache and tattoos. He was the poster boy for parolee/tweaker man.

I pulled alongside and yelled out through my passenger window, “Can I take a picture of your shirt?” How funny that must have sounded.

He never even looked at me. It almost seemed like he pedaled faster. I called out to him again, but he looked straight ahead and seemed more determined to ignore me. I then wondered if this guy was going to be a “consensual encounter” that turned into a bicycle pursuit.

I called out one more time and he snapped out of his trance. He looked over at me and saw the police car. He said, “Yeah,” and stopped.

I stopped behind him and got out of the car as I said, “Can I take a picture of your shirt with the police car? It’s not every day a person can say they stopped Batman. My kids will think it’s funny.”

Parolee man laughed as he said, “Sure, you want me to stand like this?” He then turned away from the car while still sitting on the bicycle.

“Yes, perfect. Hold on.”

I set up my shot, but I noticed I couldn’t see the entire Batman word because of the way he slouched.

“Can you stand up straight for me?” Batman instantly stood up straight as he “posed” for the picture.

After I was done, I walked up to Batman and showed him the picture as I said, “Thank You, I appreciate it.”

“Bye, I hope your kids like the picture.” Batman then started pedaling as he rode off on his tweaker Bat bike.

One thing is for sure, this job allows you to do things that people in normal clothes can’t do. Could you imagine pulling up alongside parolee man on a bike and asking for a picture of his shirt?

Sometimes you just have to have fun on this job.

My vacation and Hurricane Carlos

Posted on June 20, 2015 by Badge415

A view of the ship from a water taxi in Cabo.

I just spent a week on the cruise ship Carnival Miracle that left out of Long Beach, CA. The itinerary was for us to stop at Cabo San Lucas, Mazatlán and Puerto Vallarta. It sounded like a good plan, right?

Well, Hurricane Carlos had different plans for my cruise ship when it decided to head toward two of my ports of call.

We left port last Saturday afternoon and by Sunday the cruise director made an announcement about a change in the itinerary. Our first stop was supposed to be at Cabo San Lucas on Monday morning, but that was all up in the air until they could figure out if we could divert to a different port.

By Monday afternoon, we were headed to Puerto De Pichilingue in the City of La Paz, Mexico.

Pichiwhat?

The Port of Pichilingue

I didn’t even know where La Paz was until I saw it on a map before we docked. At that point anything was good because we had been on the ship for two and a half days.

When we docked, the skies were a rich blue without a cloud in sight. It was warm and the hills around the port looked like a barren desert. I was a little skeptical when I got on a tour bus to head into the “city,” which was about thirty minutes away.

Along the way there were beautiful beaches, which were untouched by development. Once we got to La Paz, I could tell this area had a lot of potential and was rich in history. All it needed was a few resorts and it would be a place where people would want to visit.

Our next stop was Cabo San Lucas, which was everything it was supposed to be. If you’ve never been there it should be on your bucket list. It was hot and the water was perfect for our snorkeling excursion. One day is Cabo wasn’t enough.

A stop in Cabo wouldn’t be complete without some bargaining in the tourist area. My wife wanted a bracelet that was $25. I offered $10. The vender went down to $13 and then $12, but I held firm at $10.

Apparently my wife wasn’t paying attention to my bargaining skills because she said, “Thirteen dollars sounds good.”

The vendor smiled and acted like he won. I gave him a brake check and said, “Twelve dollars.” He finally gave up accepted my money. That was the funniest part of the trip.

The last stop was in Ensenada, which the cruise director said was his favorite port in the whole world. Of course, he said it as a joke. Ensenada is Ensenada. There’s not much to say about it. I went there 15 years ago on a 3-day cruise with a couple of friends. We only made it to the bar Papas and Beer on that trip. Yesterday the drive in Ensenada showed the city is still torn up from the floor up.

As we left port yesterday, I reflected on my trip as my son and I looked across the bay from the Lido Deck (9th floor). It wasn’t the perfect vacation, but it was still nice to get away.

Hopefully there won’t be any hurricanes on my next vacation.

I need a vacation!

Posted on June 13, 2015 by Badge415

Passports
Boarding pass
Luggage
Sunscreen
Hat
Book
Wife
Kids

That’s what my list looks like for a seven day cruise to the Mexican Rivera. Everything is packed and I’m ready to go.

Will I miss work? Yes and no. I’ll miss the laughs with my friends more than some of the nonsense that happens every night.

I still have passion for the job, but right now I’d rather have the wind in my face and the sea air in my lungs as we watch the sun setting over the horizon from the highest deck of our cruise ship.

For seven straight days there will be no blood, broken bones, abrasions, car accidents, tow trucks, street closures or fatal collisions. There won’t be any liars, drunk drivers, hit and runs or complaining from someone who can’t believe they’re at fault for the collision. There also won’t be any code 3 driving or report forms to fill out. It will just be “John Time.”

So, back to the original question. Will I miss it?

Part of me will because the job is part of me as much as I’m part of it. But the other part can shut the police world away because I won’t have a care in the world.

So, when my ship sets sail on Saturday at 4:30PM Los Angeles time, I’ll have a strawberry margarita for you guys that still have to work. Who knows, I might even have another as we sail off into the sunset.

Stay safe out there.

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.”

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.

Protest away, but you never know when you’re going to need a cop

Posted on May 15, 2015 by Badge415

By now most people have heard about the Subway employee and her comments about the two police officers who were killed while on duty in Mississippi.

I was disgusted by this, but not surprised that someone would say something like that. It’s just the way it is in the world we live in.

Her comments were not just about two murdered police officers. They were about all of us and what she thinks of law enforcement in general. That’s fine. She can believe whatever she wants, but who is she going to call when she needs help? Who is she going to call if she’s ever raped? Who is she going to call if one of her children ever got hit by a car?

She’s going to call a police officer.

Three years ago our city experienced civil unrest after a couple of officer involved shootings. There was one particular neighborhood that was a boiling point and officers had to stand by while the district attorney investigators conducted their investigation. The crowd become more violent and additional officers had to be called. This all occurred before I started my shift.

Eventually more officers were needed at the scene and I was sent. When I arrived, I stood in a line alongside other officers while the crowd was acting crazy. I stood there disgusted with the way some of these people were acting.

There was one particular woman who decided I was going to be her civil unrest project. She was upset about something, but I had no idea because I wasn’t even at work when the mess started.

She stood there and yelled at me. She spit on the ground toward my direction. She went on and on as I seemed to be the only one who drew her rage.

I stood there while she raged her personal little war against me, but her protest, anger and free speech fell on deaf ears because I had no idea what she was saying. All I could think of was, “Whatever lady.”

I never forgot what that woman looked like because we spent so much quality time together. I even saw her complaining on the news about the police that night.

Fast forward six months and guess who I got to meet again? You got it. My long lost Spanish speaking spitting protester. She called the police because she needed help. How ironic is that?

What a small world. I was the follow up officer and stood by while he handled the call. I listened as a translator told us why the woman needed the police. Of course, it was for something trivial, but that didn’t stop her from calling 911 when she needed a cop.

I put on a professional face and just stood there. There was nothing for me to say. Her protest that day was more about being mad at the uniform than me. But that doesn’t mean I don’t get to have an opinion about her. Let’s just say, “#@##$!,” might be close to what I wanted to say.

I wondered if she recognized me. She gave me a few looks like she did, but it didn’t matter. I just wanted to get done with the call so I could move on to the next one. When it was time to leave, I silently walked and bit my tongue.

In the end I have a message for people who want to protest.

Protest all you want. On my days off I have better things to do with my time than stand on the sidewalk yelling at people I don’t know. If that’s what you want to do knock yourself out. It’s America.

Just remember this. Who are you going to call the next time you need help? Not the Ghostbusters. You’re going to call a police officer. You have no choice so let’s work together. It’s easier that way.

Don’t forget the names of those killed while wearing the badge

Posted on May 11, 2015 by Badge415

I think of my family every time I hear about a police officer being killed in the line of duty. I also think how I hope it never happens to me. I never want my family to be the ones sitting in the front row at the grave site being presented with the American flag by my chief. I never want them to hear the bagpipes being played for me.

Whenever I hear an officer was killed in the line of duty I reflect on some of the close calls I’ve had. I think of a few times when I or someone I knew, could’ve been the next name on the wall in our police department hallway.

Whenever I hear of an officer’s death, I think of how grateful I am for what I have and how I’m still able to do the job I love.

And finally, I also think about two officers who were killed over twenty years ago.

I started the academy on August 29, 1994 and graduated February 22, 1995. During that time there were two officers from the area who were killed in the line of duty. I never forgot their names because I attended their funerals with my academy classmates.

Those two funerals helped shape how I saw things from the time I was a young recruit to now, as a veteran officer with new gray hairs that seem to appear every day.

It was one of the best things the academy staff ever did because it made everything real. This wasn’t classroom stuff. It was up close and personal. It showed just how serious this job really was.

Officer Charles Heim was killed on October 21, 1994. Officer Michael Osorio was killed on October 31, 1994.

Officer Heim was an officer with the Los Angeles Police Department. Officer Osorio was with the La Habra Police Department. They were killed less than two weeks apart and I can still remember seeing their pictures on TV.

Officer Heim was shot by a suspect and Officer Osorio was killed by a drunk driver on Halloween night. Officer Osorio’s department was not far away from mine so it really hit close to home.

I remember standing in the cemetery at Officer Heim’s funeral and being amazed at the sight of all the officers who were there. It showed me I was part of something much bigger than I thought.

When the bagpipes started playing I could sense the emotion around me as people fought back tears. Then the helicopters could be heard in the background. I looked up to the sky as they flew overhead. The rotors were loud and added something to the moment that is hard to describe. Then one helicopter broke off from the group and started flying in a different direction in the “Missing Man” formation. I remember saying to myself, “I never want my family to go through this.”

It was such a powerful moment and it stayed with me for the rest of my life.

Two weeks later I was at another officer’s funeral. I can still remember the heartfelt eulogy that Officer Osorio’s chief gave as I looked across the sea of uniforms that were there to pay their respects. That too, was another moment that stayed with me.

These funerals showed me that nothing can be taken for granted while doing this job. It showed the unspoken bond that officers have because they all potentially share the same fate while wearing the badge.

There’s nothing that compares to a police officer’s funeral. It’s different from any other funeral you’ve ever attended. It’s amazing to see how many officers are there for someone they might not have known.

A regular person sees it as a sad moment. A police officer sees it as a sad moment too, but there’s one big difference.

A police officer knows it could’ve been them. They also know it could’ve been their family sitting up front and being presented with the flag.

The officers in attendance also know this won’t be the last one who dies while wearing the badge. That’s what makes the funeral personal.

That’s also why we can’t forget the names of those who died while in the line of duty.

Be safe.

More About The Body Worn Camera

Posted on May 9, 2015 by Badge415

The other night I responded to a neighboring city to contact the suspect in a hit and run collision. An officer from the neighboring department was also there. When I was done with the interview, I walked up to the suspect vehicle so the damage would show up in the video from my body worn camera. It was easy. I didn’t even have to get a regular camera out.

I looked over at the officer from the other department and said, “I love this thing.” With a raised eyebrow he looked at me like I was kidding. That’s when I said, “No, really. This thing is great.” He still looked like he didn’t believe me as he said, “Really?”

I then told him the advantages I have seen in a short time. Another officer from our department also told him the same thing.

He still didn’t look convinced and told me his department was testing them out. He said it would be hard to get used to. I told him it was easier to use than the audio recorder and it showed so much more. He still didn’t seem convinced.

He then said something lame. He said it would be easier for the younger officers to use because they were more technologically savvy. I could tell he was resistant to change.

Lately I’ve been asking random officers at my department what they thought about the BWC. Every person has instantly said they like it. Every one of them has also told me a story where the BWC was better than audio because it showed so much more.

A lot of officers also brought up stories where they wished they had the BWC when someone complained.

One motor officer told me a unique way how he uses his BWC on car stops. While on the stop he’ll hold the license up to the BWC so it will be part of the video in case something happened to him. I never thought of that.

The other night someone showed me a picture they took on their phone of a hit and run license plate. I held the phone up to my BWC so there was proof the witness actually took the pic. This way there was no doubt we had the correct license plate number.

I’m here to say this thing has been great. It’s not perfect, but I’m glad my department spent the money for the BWC sooner, rather than later. It will make our jobs easier in this crazy environment.

There’s nothing like having the video show how some of these people act on calls. It’s unfortunate that it has come to that, but that’s the world we live in.

It cracks me up on calls where people pull out their phones to record us. That’s fine. I’m recording you too.

More importantly, I have more gigabyte space to do it.