The sleep over at McDonalds

Posted on August 19, 2015 by Badge415

One night, McDonald’s called the police about a transient who refused to leave the restaurant. I was close by, so I answered up to assist. How hard could it be to ask a transient to leave a business?

When I got there, I couldn’t help but laugh. There was a homeless guy sleeping in a booth on his right side with his leg sticking out into the aisle. His left arm and leg were on top of the table, like it was his personal body pillow.

The sound of his snoring echoed and vibrated off the plastic seat like it was a rhythmic dance. This guy wasn’t just napping; he was in for the night. The only thing missing was a blanket and a stuffed animal.

The restaurant was pretty busy at the time with people eating and minding their own business. It was like they were used to seeing a homeless man having a sleep over.

I walked up to the manager and asked, “How long has he been here?”

“Two hours.”

“He’s been like that for two hours?”

“Yes. He won’t wake up.”

I walked over to the guy and tried to wake him up, but he was in a deep, alcohol induced coma. He smelled so bad I wondered how people could still be eating around him. It was one of those smells that stayed with you. It was a mixture of beer, toe jam and body odor all in one.

Another officer arrived and he couldn’t wake the guy up either. By now, the entire restaurant was watching us between bites of french fries and Big Macs. We shook the guy numerous times, but he only proved to be a 160lbs paper weight.

The fire department finally arrived and loaded their new found treasure onto a gurney. He snored the entire time as they took him to the ambulance.

As I was about to leave I wondered if McDonald’s was going to clean the table. Who knows what kind of germs that guy had. I certainly wouldn’t want to eat at that table without a good cleaning.

I walked over to the manager and explained to him that they should clean the table before letting customers eat there. The manager then sent someone over there as I left.

It was a funny thing to see. I only regret not taking a picture of sleep beauty. Oh well. I’m sure this won’t be the last time I see something like this.

The call at the crematorium

Posted on August 18, 2015 by Badge415

The other day, I was on my way to a collision call when dispatch broadcasted a panic alarm over the radio at a crematorium. Now, that in itself sounds weird. I wondered if someone wasn’t ready and hit the panic button to stop the process.

I was right around the corner from the call so I went there instead. I pulled my car to the curb just north of the location and didn’t see anything going on outside. I picked up the microphone and couldn’t resist as I said, “729, It looks dead out front. I’ll stand by for the follow.”

When the other officers arrived, we had dispatch call inside the business, but there was no answer. We then walked around the business as we checked doors. When we got to the rear we heard a loud bang come from inside. Now we knew at least one person was alive inside.

We knocked on the door a few times before a man opened it up. He was wearing a large reflective apron, two large pot holder style gloves that went up to his elbows and a hat with a face shield. There was also sweat pouring down his forehead. I could feel the heat coming from inside the location through the open door.

The man told us he was alone and didn’t realize the alarm had been set off by another co-worker, who just left.

I asked, “Is it hot in there?”

“Yes, it’s hot,” he said with a smile.

“Can we come in and look?” I asked.

“Sure.”

We walked inside as the worker started telling us about the cremation process. The ovens were on one side of the room that you could feel the heat coming from. On the other side of the room there were three long cardboard boxes on a conveyor belt.

Off to the side there were six more boxes that were stacked on shelves. Next to that was a large refrigerator the size of the wall. The worker told us that each of the boxes had bodies inside that were waiting to be put into the ovens.

Within a few minutes, we were done and we went back out to our patrol cars. Now, it was time for another call, but we had a story to tell for sure.

As officers, we’re used to dealing with dead bodies, but this was entirely different. The place had a weird feeling about it.

It was definitely not a place I ever thought I would get a tour of. In fact, I had no idea our city had a crematorium until that call. I had driven by this location many times over the years and had never seen anyone outside.

Thinking back, I guess it wouldn’t be the type of place where you saw a bunch of people hanging around.

This was more of a place where everyone was dying to get in.

You never know when you’re going to hear a Hall and Oates song

Posted on August 18, 2015 by Badge415

One night, my partner Mike and I were standing in front of our favorite 7-Eleven when a transient came up to talk with us.

It was a chilly night and he was wearing a beanie with a fedora hat on top. It was quiet the fashion statement for the area. He had a beard that was unkempt and the look of someone who had lived on the street for some time.

During our conversation I decided to ask him a random question. “Do you like Hall and Oates?”

He gave me a weird look and then said, “I saw them in concert once.”

“When?” I thought he was pulling my leg.

“About 10 years ago. I saw them at the fair.”

“What fair.”

“The LA County Fair.”

Wow. We had actually been at the same concert. What were the odds of that?

I asked, “Can you sing Maneater?”

He waved his hand in the air and said, “No, I don’t like that song.”

I wasn’t expecting that response and it made me laugh. I thought everyone liked Maneater. I then asked him what other Hall and Oates songs he knew.

He said, “Rich Girl.”

“Can you sing it?”

I took out my phone and got the video ready. He hesitated at first, but then started singing a cappella.

“She’s a rich girl and you’ve gone too far

Cause you know it don’t matter anyway

You can rely on the old man’s money

It’s a bitch girl…..”

That’s when he got stuck as he started to repeat that part. He grinned and threw his hands up in surrender as he finished.

It was priceless. He did such a good job I gave him a Cliff Bar from my cooler. It was the least I could do for the guy.

Hall and Oates would’ve been proud.

The driver who got a history lesson on my car stop

Posted on August 18, 2015 by Badge415

You just gotta have fun……

One night we were dispatched to a traffic collision in an alley with no details. The caller reported possibly hearing a crash after car was skidding up and down the alley.

We drove the alleys of the neighborhood, but couldn’t find any damage. We then saw a car that matched the description and stopped it.

It turned out to be the correct car except there was no collision damage. The driver confirmed everything the caller had described, which included the skidding and fast driving through the alleys. To top it off, he was unlicensed.

I thought we were going to impound his vehicle since he was unlicensed, but my partner, who was training as a new traffic officer, said the driver could keep his car. My mouth fell open when I heard that.

I said, “Hold on. You have to answer a question correctly or we’re going to impound your car.”

He pointed to the other officer and said, “He told me I could keep the car.”

“I know, but I’m in charge here,”

He looked back and forth at us, as I tried to keep a straight face.

“How many continents are there in the world?” I asked.

The confused look on his face was priceless. It was as if his head was about to explode.

“Um, Thirty four?”

“No, seven,” I said as I corrected him like a TV game show host with a buzzer in the background.

His head involuntarily bounced back as he rolled his eyes and threw his arms up in the air like he had just dropped the game winning touchdown pass.

“Ok, let’s try another question. Name the president who was assassinated in 1865.”

He couldn’t even answer it. I probably started with questions that were too hard. He was clearly not the Trivial Pursuit champion.

“It was Abraham Lincoln,” I said.

“Lincoln wasn’t president when he was shot.”

“Yes he was,” I said.

“No, he wasn’t.”

I had to take a commercial break to help educate this guy on where, when and who shot Abraham Lincoln.

After I was done I asked, “Did you finish high school?”

“No.”

“Okay. What was Abraham Lincoln’s mother’s name?”

“I don’t know,” he said with a frustrated look.

“It was Mrs. Lincoln,” I replied with a smile.

Again the arms went up and the head went back in frustration.

That’s when I broke out the “rock, paper, scissors” game and said he could keep his car if he won.

He looked back and forth at us like he couldn’t believe this was happening. I put my hands in the starting position and said, “On three.” He reluctantly put his hands up to play.

Just as we started to hit our palms, I stopped and said, “Let’s make this interesting. If I win, you go to jail too.”

His eyes almost flew out of his head when he heard that. I was trying my hardest not to laugh at this point.

Now it was time to play. He bent his knees and raised his hands to the ready position. He tapped his feet as he crouched down like a tennis player at The French Open waiting for the serve to come his way.

The tension mounted as we started counting “1, 2, 3,” at the same time our fists hit our open palms.

We both had “rock” the first time.

Then we both had “paper” the second time. The competition was fierce.

The guy was totally into it now. He was concentrating as if every strike of his palm was his last. It was like sudden death overtime in a football playoff game. We then tied the third time as he both showed “rock” again.

I finally let him off the hook and said he could keep his car. The look of relief on his face was like the “Thrill of Victory” from the opening credits of Wide World of Sports. I could swear he was breathing hard after too.

I then asked, “What did you learn tonight?”

He said, “I learned Lincoln was killed in the movie theater.”

“No! There were no movie theaters in 1865. It was just a theater,” I said as I shook my head in disbelief.

“What else did you learn?”

“There are seven continents in the world.”

“What else?”

“Don’t drive without a f#^!ing license.”

Bingo

After it was all said and done, I didn’t feel bad at all. He could’ve crashed and hurt someone.

Plus, he didn’t get a ticket, so entertaining me was the least he could do.

This job is sometimes like the Twilight Zone

Posted on August 13, 2015 by Badge415

During the opening credits of the Twilight Zone TV show, Rod Serling says, “You’ve just crossed over into… the Twilight Zone.”

It sometimes feels like I cross over into the Twilight Zone as soon as I put my uniform on. That’s part of the fun of the job because you never know what you’re going to see while on the street.

The other night there was a truck in the parking lot of a city park that wasn’t able to start. The truck had a camper shell on the back where its owners, a husband and wife, slept at night. The truck was basically a 3,000lbs tent on wheels.

When the park closed they needed to move the truck to avoid a parking ticket. Their plan was to push the trunk onto the street so they could sleep in it for the night.

One transient sat in the driver seat and two others got behind the truck to push. They then started pushing the truck through the parking lot toward the street. It was like an urban bobsled team at this point.

The truck went down the driveway as the driver made a right turn onto the street. She then made another right turn to where they wanted to park. The new bobsled team was doing such a great job they ran into a parked car.

Of course, it wasn’t just any parked vehicle. It was a parked car with two transients inside, who were sleeping. After the collision, they jumped out and saw the “driver” run away, as she left her bobsled teammates behind.

The victims were upset and started arguing with the vehicle’s owners.

When I got there we separated everyone to try and figure out what happened. Out of nowhere, one of the owners pointed to one of the victims and said, “He ran over my cat.”

“What cat?” I asked.

“My cat. He hit my cat.”

“When?”

“A while ago. I had the cat since she was 3 days old.”

“Did he run it over on purpose?”

“It was under his car when he drove away,” she replied.

How did I go from talking about a hit and run crash to talking about a cat? Then I remembered this was police work. Anyone who has put the badge on knows it can be as random as a pin ball game at the arcade.

After I was done speaking with the owners, I walked over to the front of their truck and saw a chain holding the hood down to the front bumper. It just looked weird, but then again, everything about this call was odd.

The call was finally resolved when the victims said they wanted to find another place to sleep for the night. They got into their vehicle and drove away.

It was just one of those calls that you can’t make up. The only thing missing were circus animals and a big tent.

Don’t forget to be thankful for what you have

Posted on August 12, 2015 by Badge415

Every night at work I’m reminded why I’m thankful for what I have.

The other night I responded to a single vehicle traffic collision call where a pole was struck. When I arrived, I saw the driver and his vehicle in a parking lot with a flat front tire and a damaged fender. There was a pole with minor damage not far away.

The driver, who was in his 30’s, was with his 5 year old daughter. It was after midnight and she was sleeping in the backseat. There was a spare tire on the ground next to the vehicle.

The driver was wearing baggy jeans, a white tank top, had a shaved head, tattoos, and a mustache. The top of his head had a large number 13 tattooed on it.

While we were talking I found out his driver’s license was suspended and he had just spent a little over 3 years in state prison for a felony DUI. That got me interested because you really have to try to end up in state prison.

“Did you kill someone?” I asked.

“No. I hurt someone bad.”

“How bad?”

“I don’t know. I used to drink until I blacked out.”

“How long ago did you get out?” I asked.

“A year ago.”

“How old are you?”

“I’m 34.”

“How many years of your life have you been in custody?”

“Over half,” he replied.

“How old were you when you first got arrested?”

“I was 9.”

“You were 9?”

“I stole a pair of pants from JC Penny.”

“Where were your parents during this time?” Were they gangsters too?”

“I never knew my dad. I know nothing about him. My mom was a doper. They took us away from her and put us in an orphanage.”

“Really?”

“I never had a chance.”

There were two DUI convictions on his driving record and one for driving on a suspended license. He didn’t have car insurance either. He wasn’t the guy you wanted driving around you in case there was a crash.

I told him his car was going to get impounded because his license was suspended and I asked if someone could pick him up. He told me his aunt could, but she lived in Riverside.

“Go ahead and call her.”

“My phone died. I don’t have a charger.”

“Do you have any money for a cab?”

“No.”

“Do you want to call Uber?” I asked.

“What’s Uber? Is it free?”.

Oh geez…..

My dispatch called his aunt and gave her the message to pick him up. I didn’t want the little girl to be stranded any more than she was, so I said I would drop them off at a 24-hour Subway.

He went to the car and woke her up. She got out of the car with a blanket and a sleepy look on her face. I sat on my rear bumper and her asked questions about school and the Frozen shirt she was wearing. She told me she went to Disneyland today and how she was starting school soon. After we were done talking I asked her if she wanted to ride in a police car. She nodded, but she didn’t seem so sure.

I moved my stuff and then had them sit in the backseat. My patrol car has a regular backseat, so it’s more comfortable. I’m sure the dad had a Beverly Hills Cop moment like when Eddie Murphy said, “This is the cleanest and nicest police car I’ve ever been in.”

I dropped them off at Subway and told the clerk they were in a traffic accident and were waiting for a ride. I then bought the little girl some cookies. As I handed her the cookies I said, “Remember, the police are there to help you. You can come to us when you need help.”

She nodded and took her bag of cookies. The driver thanked me and I left.

Two minutes later, I was standing next to a vehicle that was completely destroyed by a DUI driver at another collision scene.

After everything calmed down at the next crash, I was able to reflect on the previous call and think how lucky I was to grow up the way I did.

Here was a perfect example of the nightly reminders at work that make me grateful for what I have and where I came from. Everyone needs a reminder from time to time.

A stranger in need

Posted on August 6, 2015 by Badge415

Tonight, I responded to a call involving a person who wanted to jump off a bridge. The call location was in a neighborhood about a half mile from the freeway overpass.

When I arrived, I saw a male and female standing together on the corner in front of a house. I assumed the male was a close friend or boyfriend based on how close they were standing next to each other.

The woman, who was in her early 20s, briefly told me she wasn’t taking her medication and had suicidal thoughts. She clearly had emotional problems and she needed help. I gathered some preliminary info from her and then let another officer take over that part of the investigation when he arrived. I then spoke to the male to find out how he was involved.

The male, who was about 20 years old, told me he was riding his skateboard down the street when she flagged him down.

“She just stopped you? Do you know her?”

“I don’t know her. She just opened up to me,” he said.

“What did she say?”

“She said she was depressed and she wanted to jump off a bridge.”

“She just stopped you and told you that?”

“Yes.”

“Who called 911?” I asked.

“We both did.”

I asked the male for his name and information. He handed me an identification card and said with a pained look on his face, “I had two friends jump off of bridges before. I couldn’t leave her.”

“Did either of your friends survive?”

“No.”

I could tell there was real compassion by the way he spoke. The tone of his voice and the way he looked over at her told me he truly believed she was going to kill herself and he wanted to prevent that from happening.

It made me wonder what happened with his two friends. It obviously had affected him enough to stay with the woman until we arrived.

The male didn’t want any recognition or a pat on the back. He only wanted to help another person in need. When he was done, he got on his skateboard and rode off into the fast approaching darkness. When I left, I was glad I got to see a random act of kindness.

With all of the negativity in the world, it was nice to see a person doing something for a stranger in need. It might have been something small on his part, but maybe it showed the woman that there were people in the world who still cared.

Maybe that’s all the hope she needs to keep going in life.

It’s Badge415’s First Anniversary

Posted on August 4, 2015 by Badge415

Where has the year gone? This week marks Badge415’s first anniversary.

It was August 8, 2014 when I published “The Badge” as the first blog post. Since then there have been 105 other blog posts. It’s hard to believe there have been that many.

I can’t claim credit for the blog and Facebook page though. That credit goes to an old high school friend (@sheanaochoa on Twitter and Sheana Ochoa on Facebook). A little over a year ago, I asked her for advice about getting a book published. It was a phone call that changed everything.

The first question she asked was, “What is your writer’s platform?”

“My what?”

I had no idea what she was talking about. It was like she was speaking a different language to me.

“You need a blog,” she said.

Sheana told me to start writing a blog and people would follow me. I couldn’t imagine writing a blog. That was something other people did. Who want would read my stuff?

That phone call left me with more questions than answers. Part of me didn’t want to write a blog. I couldn’t imagine putting myself out there for all to see. That was as crazy as trying to teach a high school French class. Since I don’t speak French, that would be pretty crazy.

For the next two weeks, I did a ton of research and learned a lot about blogs and writer’s platforms. It was amazing how much information was out there.

Two weeks later, the day came when it was time to launch the blog and the Facebook page. There was a lot of apprehension on my part. The biggest worry was, “What are my friends going to think?”

When it was time, I hit the “publish” button and there was no turning back. The first blog post was out there for all to see, to criticize and to talk about. I wondered if anyone was going to read it. I wondered if anyone was going to care. And finally, I wondered if it was worth it.

A funny thing happened. People started following the blog. Within the second week there were over 500 Facebook likes thanks to the FB page 911- Injured in the line of duty . It was amazing and shocking at the same time.

Since then, I’ve received a lot of positive feedback about the blog. Some of the best feedback has come from fellow officers and non-sworn employees at work.

The subject of the blog comes up all the time on calls. People sometimes ask if the particular call we’re on will make the blog. Others say they’re waiting for the next blog post to come out. Sometimes cops will say they have a blog story for me from something that happened to them. That type of feedback tells me I’m doing something right and I appreciate it.

One of the best comments I got was in the locker room at the end of shift about a month ago. One of the officers said, “My mom loves reading your blog.” That made my day.

Since that first post, the Facebook page has grown to over 1,300 likes and the new Twitter page, @Badge415 has almost 800 followers. The website Behind the Badge OC has also featured some of my blog stories.

Badge415 also won “Best Lifestyle Blog” by the Orange County Press Club for 2014.

And finally, one of the best compliments was from my kids, who like reading the blog also. What else can you ask for?

Thanks again to everyone who has followed the blog. Your support is appreciated.

Stay safe out there.

Did I Jinx That Guy?

Posted on July 28, 2015 by Badge415

Have you ever jinxed someone, but didn’t know it?

A few weeks ago I was at a red light right after leaving the police department parking lot. While I was stopped, a guy rode by me on a bicycle who was pulling a shopping cart. That was something I hadn’t seen before. Lately, I’ve been seeing bicyclist pulling suitcases, but not shopping carts.

I thought to myself how I’ve never taken a crash with a guy on a bike who was pulling a shopping cart before. It was a quick thought that I forgot as soon as I said it.

About 7 hours later I was sent to an injury collision involving a bicycle and a vehicle on the west side of the city. When I got there, the officers told me the fire department had already come and gone after the injured rider refused aid. There was a witness standing by, so I spoke to her first.

The witness told me where she was standing when she saw the crash. She described how he was riding the wrong way on the street and how he crossed directly in front of the vehicle when the collision occurred.

She said, “He was pulling a shopping cart.”

Of course, that made the call more interesting now. “He was? Where’s the cart?”

“Yeah, it’s still in the street,” she said as she pointed.

I looked and sure enough, there was a shopping cart that was knocked over in the street. The bicycle was damaged beyond repair and was lying next to the cart.

I had jinxed the guy for sure.

I then spoke to the bicyclist and asked him what happened. He gave me a slightly different version of how the collision occurred, but it was close enough. I looked at the rear wheel of the bicycle and saw that it was bent and twisted from the collision. It was more a paper weight than a bicycle now.

After I was done with the investigation, the rider asked, “What do I do with my bike?”

“Do you want to put it in the shopping cart?” I asked.

By the look on his face, it wasn’t the answer he was looking for. With a bit of a pout he walked over to the cart and picked it up. He then lifted the bicycle into the air and half threw it into the shopping cart with a frustrated look on his face. The bike landed hard in the cart and caused it to tip over with a loud crash that echoed in the night.

It was actually pretty funny to watch.

The rider stood there in the street with a defeated look on his face as his shoulders sagged. He then pulled the bicycle out and got the shopping cart back up on its wheels again.

Now it was time to watch operation bicycle in a shopping cart 2.0.

He lifted the bicycle up in the air and put it in the cart with more care this time. He picked up the rest of his belongings and was able to push the cart out of the street. The cart looked funny with half of the bike sticking up in the air like it was doing a wheelie.

It just proves that you can’t make this stuff up.

This job cracks me up

Posted on July 24, 2015 by Badge415

Every night there always seems to be some type of comedy going on. You can go from one call to the next with crazy things happening that you could never think of. Those are the calls that make this job fun and make up for the bad experiences.

Tonight a pedestrian ran across the street against a red light. There was cross traffic at the time and a car almost hit him. After the near miss, the pedestrian turned toward that car and gave the driver the middle finger as he threw out F-bombs.

That when he was then struck by another car……That by itself was funny. You can’t make that up, but the comedy continued.

Luckily the pedestrian wasn’t hurt and there was no damage to the car. The driver was shaken from the experience and we sent her on her way with a report number. We then had to deal with the pedestrian, who was under age.

He didn’t know his address, despite living in the same location for the last year, so we gave him a ride home. When we arrived at his home we spoke to his sister because his mother was at work.

She looked at him and said, “Really? You can’t obey a light?”

“I thought I was going to make it, but I didn’t make it at the end,” the pedestrian said as he laughed.

“You can’t even wait for the little man to light up so you can walk?” she said.

She then made me laugh when she told him, “Even if you’re blind you can see it.” She looked at us and said, “Give him a ticket.”

She was great with the way she spoke to her brother, but she might as well have been talking to a wall. Everything was going in one ear and out the other. After she was done giving him a tongue lashing, we walked back to our patrol cars with a good story to tell for later.

Here’s the best part. It turned out the pedestrian’s name was Angel and the witness was Moses.

There’s no way you can make this stuff up.