What was he thinking?

Posted on May 24, 2016 by Badge415

_DSC7442

The other night I was trying to get off early when I was sent to a non-injury crash an hour before I was supposed to get off. The call information was that the drivers were arguing and one of them was refusing to exchange information.

When I arrived, I contacted a male, who told me his vehicle was parked in the alley when it was hit by another car. Simple enough, right?

Of course, that plan fell apart because any time you want to get off early something always happens.

I contacted one of the driver’s and could tell he had been drinking. He was also unlicensed. I got his statement and another officer conducted the DUI investigation. In the end, the driver was arrested for DUI and taken to jail.

Here’s the best part of the story. It turned out the DUI guy was the one who didn’t want to exchange information with the victim driver. That was the only reason why the police were called.

You just can’t make this stuff up.

She just didn’t believe us

Posted on May 23, 2016 by Badge415

Traffic Control

A few months ago I was at a crash where a woman in her 40s ran a red light and collided into two other cars. After speaking with her I could tell she had major emotional problems. The accident made everything worse because she was driving her mother’s car and she didn’t want to tell her.

After a few minutes she started talking about not wanting to live. I called for a patrol unit to deal with her while I continued to handle the collision investigation part.

Two officers rolled up and spoke to the woman. A few minutes later one of the cops told me she really didn’t want to kill herself. He said she was an emotional wreck and more worried about telling her mother about the car. They helped out by calling mom and breaking the news to her.

When I was done, I walked over to where the woman was. She was still a mess, but things were better now that the officers had calmed her down and spoken to her mom.

I tried to make her feel better by telling her we had all been involved in on-duty crashes before.

She looked at me with a suspicious look and said, “No you haven’t.”

“Yes, I have. One time I hit a house,” I replied.

With a skeptical look she said, “No you didn’t. You’re just trying to make me feel better.”

I pointed to one of the cops and said, “I met him his first day at work when he crashed on his very first call.”

She looked over at him as he said, “I did.”

“No you didn’t. You’re lying.”

“Serious. I did.” he said.

The other cop then said, “I’ve crashed too.”

She squinted her eyes as she said, “You’re making this stuff up.”

No matter how much we told her about our traffic collisions she didn’t believe us. We all wished the stories weren’t true, but they were.

I know it sounds pretty far fetched for a police car to hit a house, but it was true. Maybe a picture of my crashed patrol car in the front yard of that house would’ve made her believe me.

You just can’t make this stuff up.

Where’s the steering wheel?

Posted on May 10, 2016 by Badge415

The other night I was sent a call on the eastern end of the city. I was near the freeway, so I decided to jump on and get there faster. I took the on ramp and started to accelerate.

I was up to freeway speed in a matter of seconds and looked into my mirror as I prepared to merge into traffic. Just as I looked, I heard the sound of skidding off to my left.

I turned my head just in time to see a car blowing by me as it was trying to slow down. Its brake lights were shining brightly like a lighthouse on a rocky coast on a foggy night for passing ships to see.

The car decelerated to 70 miles per hour in a matter of seconds.

It’s amazing how that works when you pass a police car like that. Of course, he needed to be stopped. I’m sure everyone else on the freeway wanted to see it too.

I turned on my lights as red and blue reflected off of everything around me. In defeat, the car pulled over and stopped on the shoulder. After the car stopped, I walked up on the passenger side as I used my flashlight to illuminate the inside.

I looked into the car trying to see the driver’s hands. That’s when I noticed there was no steering wheel. It just didn’t look right. How was he steering the car? I actually had to do a double take.

That’s when I saw a steering wheel on the passenger seat. That didn’t look right either. It was like a Twilight Zone car stop.

I asked, “Why is your steering wheel there,” as I pointed to the passenger seat.

“I wanted to show you I wasn’t going to take off,” he replied.

That actually made me laugh.

I never even thought of that one before. I took out my phone and told him, “I’m taking a picture of that.” I instantly knew he’d make the blog.

You just can’t make this stuff up.

Where’s my mommy?

Posted on April 24, 2016 by Badge415

FullSizeRender(25)

The call came out as a felony hit and run involving a pedestrian with witnesses following the suspect. Dispatch updated the suspect’s location as it continued westbound on a major highway.

A few minutes later we caught up to the suspect and stopped the vehicle in a parking lot. After the interviews, we learned that the victim was transported to the hospital because her foot was run over. The suspect was arrested for felony hit and run and placed in the back of a police car. She also was driving on a suspended license.

This wasn’t the typical hit and run story though. This one had a bit of a twist to it.

What made this one a little different were the passengers in the suspect vehicle. They weren’t a bunch of hoodlums or gang members. They were the driver’s 6 and 3 year old daughters.

After mom was arrested, I walked up to the vehicle so I could get her purse and cell phone for her. There was an officer standing at the car wth the children. The 6 year old seemed to be having a good time taking with the officer.

I looked at her and asked, “Where’s mummy’s purse and cell phone?”

“Right there, ” she said as she pointed to the front seat.

“Thanks,” I replied.

I was about to walk away when she asked, “Where’s my mommy?”

I was kind of hoping to avoid that one. What do you tell a 6 year old? You can’t just say, “Mommy went to jail because she ran over a woman.”

Instead, I went with, “Mommy is talking to a police officer.”

“OK.”

“Your daddy is coming,” I said.

“My daddy is coming?”

“He’ll be here soon.”

“OK.”

I took the purse and phone to the patrol car and gave them to the officer. He then drove her to jail.

A few minutes later I walked by the vehicle and the little girl asked, “Where’s my mommy?”

“She’s talking with the officer at the police station,” I replied.

“Ok. Do you have kids?’ she asked. It was the cutest thing.

“I do. Do you want to see a picture of them?”

“Yeah,” she said with a smile.

I took my phone out and showed her a picture of my kids. The little girl looked at my daughter and said, “She’s pretty!”

You can’t beat a child’s innocence.

Spring cleaning

Posted on April 21, 2016 by Badge415

A few weeks ago, I was driving down the street when I saw an SUV parked on the side of the road with a bunch of clothes piled on the hood. This wasn’t something you see every day and I had to stop to see what the story was.

There was a woman in the passenger seat who got out and said hi as I walked up. I asked her, “What’s up with the clothes?”

“This isn’t my car,” she said. “It’s my friend’s car and she’s been doing some organizing.”

“She’s organizing on the hood of the car?” I asked. I took a quick look inside the vehicle and noticed the backseat was also piled high with clothes.

“Yeah. She’ll be right back. She just went down the street.”

I engaged the woman in small talk as she told me about being homeless for the last five years. She was 25 years old, blonde, thin and had major acne. She was quite entertaining and was more than happy to talk about life on the street.

“I used to live in my car in San Francisco. It was so stuffed with clothes I had to sleep like a “human Tetris.”

Not human Tetris. The real deal.

That was downright funny and I burst out with laughter because I played Tetris back in the day and knew exactly what she was talking about.

That’s when a woman and a man walked up. She had bright red hair and was about 45 years old. She was smoking a cigarette and was the vehicle’s owner.

“I just stopped by to take a picture of all the clothes,” I said as I pulled out my iPad. “Do you want to be in the picture too?”

The woman laughed as she said, “Oh God, no!” She then retreated behind the SUV because she was camera shy.

After I took the picture, the woman with red hair started folding clothes as she said, “I’m doing some organizing.”

“I heard,” I replied.

She went on to tell me how she had been giving clothes away as she tried to make room in her car. She held up clothes and looked at them like she was in a department store. Once she was satisfied, she folded them and made piles on the hood. It was actually funny to watch.

I finally had to say goodbye because I had another call to go to. They seemed happy I had stopped by to talk and waved as I drove away. The first woman even told me to have a safe night.

It’s always fun to stop and talk with people. Everyone one has a story. They just need the right person to tell it to. Plus, I would’ve never heard the phrase “human Tetris” unless I stopped.

You just never know what you’re going to see out on patrol.

Where am I going?

Posted on April 19, 2016 by Badge415

“729, 211,” the dispatcher said as she called us for a crash.

“729,” I repeated back.

“729, 211. 902T, 2900 W. Lost Street. One vehicle is in front of the apartment complex.” (I made the Lost Street name up)

“729, 10-4.”

Here’s the problem. I wasn’t paying attention to what she said. I was going 40 mph with both windows down when the call went out. For some reason I thought she sent me to 2900 “East” Lost Street.

I was in the northern end of the city so I jumped on the freeway and headed eastbound. I took another freeway and went southbound, which put me in the “correct” location in less than five minutes.

I must’ve been day dreaming because I pulled up to the apartment complex at 2400 E. Lost Street for some reason. I don’t know what I was thinking.

There were no crashed cars there so I asked the dispatcher to do a recall. I parked and waited.

After a few minutes, the dispatcher came back on the radio and told me the RP (reporting party) was still waiting at the location.

I glanced up at the apartment complex and realized I was in the wrong spot. I typed a quick message to the dispatcher, telling her what I had done. I also said, “By the way, they’re not here either.”

I hauled butt to 2900 E. Lost Street and still couldn’t find them. What the heck? That’s when I paid attention to the call on my computer screen for the first time. Oops!!!

No wonder they weren’t there. The call was at 2900 West Lost Street. My GPS must’ve looked hilarious on the dispatcher’s screen going in all different directions.

After I finally pulled my head out of my ass, I was able to find the correct location on the other end of the city. Of course, it seemed like I got every red light on the way there. Oh well. What can you do?

It’s not the first time I went the wrong way and it certainly won’t be the last… You just have to be able to laugh at yourself.

S%#t happens.

“Is traffic available?”

Posted on April 14, 2016 by Badge415

“Is traffic available?”

Sometimes I’ll be busy on something at work when a crash goes out and a patrol officer gets dispatched to it. Most of the time the officer answers the radio for the call and responds to it.

Every once in a while a patrol cop will get the call and the first thing out of their mouth is, “Is traffic available?”

Obviously the traffic unit wasn’t available. If they had been the dispatcher would’ve sent them in the first place. It’s not like the dispatcher was trying to hide the traffic unit and not use them. Of course, they would’ve sent them had they been available.

Just go to the call.

There could be any number of reasons why I or my partners weren’t available at the time.

I could’ve been sitting on the toilet playing Candy Crush. I could’ve been on another call, or on a car stop (not too often). I might’ve been report writing or on lunch.

The other night I was working a patrol spot instead of my normal traffic shift when I did something I’ve always wanted to do. I was driving down the street when I heard my patrol call sign called out over the radio by dispatch.

“326.”

“326.” I replied.

“326 and unit to back. 901, vehicle into a block wall,” the dispatcher said. 901 was the radio code for traffic collision with unknown injuries.

I keyed the microphone and said, “326. Is traffic available?”

There was a long pause as I silently chuckled to myself. I wondered if anyone noticed how silly it sounded. The dispatcher came back with the best reply ever when she said, “784 will be en route shortly.”

I actually laughed even more and smiled when I heard that. For those that don’t know, my call sign was 784 for 15 years before it was changed to 729. I was impressed by her quick-witted reply and it instantly put me in a good mood.

Right after that my computer blew up with “LOL” messages about the radio traffic. It was truly a funny moment that I’ll never forget.

Thanks for the radio traffic K.G.

We’re toxic together

Posted on April 13, 2016 by Badge415

_DSC4559-2
The other night I responded to a restraining order violation call involving a man and a woman, who have a child together. When I got there I saw them speaking to officers. The man, who was Caucasian and his 30s, was sitting on the bumper of a patrol car. His shirt was dirty and his hair was unkempt.

I stood there in awe as I listened to him ramble about all kinds of things. It was both funny and sad to know he was reproducing. I didn’t want to stand too close to him in case some of his dumbness tried to rub off onto me.

One of the first things he said was, “My record is a mile long.”

I had not doubt about that as I listened to him.

The subject of domestic violence came up and he had plenty to talk about since he’d been arrested before. He was talking to a cop when he said, “OJ fucked it up for everyone.”

I couldn’t help but laugh when I heard that. I wasn’t laughing at what happened with OJ Simpson. I was laughing because this guy said it in the middle of a domestic violence restraining order investigation.

The subject turned to his relationship with his ex and what she used to do for a living when he said, “She was a prostitute. It runs in her family.”

Who says that to a bunch of strangers? Just hilarious.

I then made small talk with the victim. “How long were you together?” I asked.

“For 17 years. We’re toxic together.”

She went on to tell me all kinds of stories about their drug use, their prison time and an 18 year daughter she gave up along time ago.

After he was arrested, the woman said she was going to call a friend for a ride. She walked to a fast food restaurant to wait. As she walked away, I wondered how much damage had been caused to their child by the “toxic” relationship they share.

Unfortunately, the poor kid doesn’t have a chance.

You never know when you’ll need duct tape

Posted on April 11, 2016 by Badge415

Last week I was at a traffic collision where a tow truck changed lanes and hit a car. When I got there the ambulance was leaving with the car’s passenger.

The vehicles were in the middle of the street and there was glass all over the place. I think the tow truck driver felt guilty because he was sweeping up the glass faster than I’ve ever seen it done before.

“I bought the car four days ago,” the man from the car said.

The man’s car was red and had paper plates. Both passenger side windows were shattered and both doors were damaged. The right front door was even missing a door handle. To add insult to injury, the ambulance had just driven away with his wife.

The man stood there looking at his car as he wondered what to do. He walked up to the passenger door and tried to close it. He slammed the door shut and it just bounced back like a ball because it wouldn’t stay closed.

“What am I going to do?”

“Well, you can’t drive it like that,” I said.

I then had an idea as I walked toward my patrol car. I carry duct tape with me in my traffic gear bag. The duct tape is for when I have to tape down a 300 foot tape measure in the street when I have a fatal accident. I actually call it the “duct tape of death” because it only comes out when something really bad happens.

I walked back up to the driver and showed him the duct tape as I asked, “Want to tape the door shut?”

He gave me a funny look and took the tape. He then got to work on his car. When he was done he drove away with a duct tape band-aid on his car. I just didn’t tell him I call it “The duct tape of death” though. I figured he didn’t need to know that.

Happy retirement Deputy

Posted on April 6, 2016 by Badge415

In May of 1990, my uncle Eddie (Ed to most people) graduated from the academy and became a Deputy with the Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department. I missed his graduation because I had a final to take at school.

I remember the graduation party at my grandmother’s house after I finished my test at school. Eddie was wearing his uniform with his shiny deputy star on his chest as he posed for pictures with us. He was 4 years older than me and the first cop in our family. I was proud of him.

After he started working, he encouraged me to be a deputy. One day I went over his house and we had a long talk about police work. That conversation, along with another with a family neighbor, who worked for LAPD, pushed me toward a police career.

I can still picture where I sat in his house and how I left knowing the seed was planted for a career in law enforcement. That seed was later watered during a ride along with the Los Angeles Police Department that was set up through my mom’s neighbor.

I graduated from the Orange County Sheriff’s academy about 1 1/2 years after that conversation at Eddie’s house. It was a great moment to stand next to Eddie, who was there in his uniform. It was actually the only time we were in uniform together.

Now, after almost 26 years as a deputy, Eddie retired. It’s hard to believe he’s now a “retired cop.” Knowing he’s retired means I’m really not that far behind him, which is weird. I still have a ways to go, but the sun will set on my police career before I know it just like it did for Eddie.

Congrats on your retirement. Now, let’s go back to Maui.