A happy crash customer

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On Friday night I was on a crash where half of the intersection was closed because of fluid and debris and disabled cars.

There was a male and female from one of the vehicles standing on the corner. They were in their late teens and had a serious look on their faces. While I was talking with them I got the feeling they were a little stressed, so I decided to lighten the mood up as I asked, “Do you want to hear a funny story?”

With a look of relief the female said, “Yes.”

I then told them about a guy I stopped earlier in the night for running a red light. After hearing the story the female laughed, The male seemed to have a lot on his mind and didn’t say anything. Oh well, at least I tried.

A little while later, I was standing across the street from the teens when a car drove up and parked. A woman got out and said, “Those are my kids,” as she pointed to them. She crossed the street and went to hug them.

A few minutes later they came back as they headed toward mom’s car. As they walked by the daughter waved and said, “Thanks for making us laugh.”

The mom didn’t understand and looked at both of us. That’s when I told her the story. When I was done, she also laughed.

Before leaving the mom said, “I drove by the intersection a few minutes ago and saw the police cars.”

“Oh yeah?” I said.

“I got to 7-Eleven and my phone rang. It was my daughter and she told me they were in an accident. I didn’t realize it was them when I drove by.”

“Wow. What are the chances of that happening?” I said.

The woman then smiled and said, “Thanks for entertaining them.” She walked away a happy customer.

It’s always a good thing when someone can smile and say thank you when they walk away from a crash. It’s also a good thing when they get your jokes. 

 

“He ran me over!”

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Just when I thought I’d seen it all.

The other night I went to a crash involving a pedestrian and a vehicle, which normally isn’t that big of a deal, except this one had a twist.

When I got to the call, the victim was being put inside the ambulance. I jumped inside and asked, “What happened?”

The man, who was homeless, was about 40 years old. He had an unkempt looking beard and smelled like he hadn’t had a bath in weeks. He also smelled like he’d been drinking beer all day long.

He told me about lying down in the parking lot and putting his head on the curb like it was a concrete pillow.

There was car parked parallel to the curb just south of where he was resting. A guy got into the driver seat and started the engine. At this point, it would’ve been a good idea to move, but he didn’t.

That’s when he said, “He ran me over!”

Now, it’s not every day you hear someone say that, so I tried to keep a straight face as I asked, “Where did the car run you over at?”

“Look at my leg. It doesn’t look like the other one.”

He was wearing pants but one leg was definitely bigger than the other. The victim said, “The guy was drinking.”

“How do you know?”

“We’re street people. We know these things.”

You just can’t make this stuff up.

Silly stories and the tales people tell

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It always cracks me up when someone tries to report their car stolen after the vehicle was already involved in a hit and run. It’s funny because they think they’re the most original person in the world by coming up with this idea. It’s also funny because their story is never as good they thought it was going to be.

This was the case two weeks ago when a person thought they were smarter than they really were. This particular guy prepared his story about as well as a midget playing in an NBA basketball game. It was just plain awkward and didn’t work out so well.

He called to report his car stolen about an hour after the collision occurred. He claimed he went to the grocery store to buy lottery scratchers and left his keys in the car. When he came out the car was gone.

I’m sure there are plenty of people who buy lottery scratchers at the grocery store, but I bet their car wasn’t “stolen” and then involved in a crash.

After I heard the lottery ticket excuse I asked, “Where are the lottery tickets you bought?” This guy drove miles out of his way for a special lottery ticket trip. He had to have the tickets on him, right?

He was surprised by the question and then said he didn’t buy them because the line was too long. How dumb is that? I guess he didn’t think that far ahead.

When have your ever seen a long line for scratchers? It wasn’t like he was buying a Power Ball lottery ticket when the jackpot was over a billion dollars. It was just a scratcher.

The story fell apart even more after an officer interviewed two women the guy knew. They were honest and had nothing to hide. Their story showed he was a liar.

After speaking with the women, his story looked like Swiss cheese because there were so many holes in it.  In the end, I told him we weren’t taking a stolen vehicle report.

It was a lot of work, but the victim of the crash and the insurance company deserved a complete investigation. More importantly, the guy needed to know his lies didn’t fool us.

Nice try buddy, but you can’t Jedi Mind Trick a Jedi Master.

 

Can I call you Frank?

 

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Photo courtesy of Pinterest

One of the funniest things to do at work is to say random things while on calls just for the heck of it. Most of the time it’s just something that pops into my head and I go with it.

A few years ago, I responded to a hit and run collision where a parked vehicle was struck by a car that rolled over. The call information indicated the suspect ran away, but was caught one street north of the collision scene. When I got there, I saw the driver siting on the curb with other officers, who were standing by.

The driver was about 30 years old and was barefoot. I was impressed he was able to run that far with no shoes after climbing out of an overturned car. He was obviously really motivated to get away. His feet were black and filthy from his sprint to freedom. It was going to take a month to get those little piggies clean.

I walked up to him and said, “Hi. You look like the guy who sits on the wall from the Pirates of the Caribbean ride.”

He looked down at his feet and started laughing because he knew which guy I was talking about. At least he had been to Disneyland land to understand my joke. That’s when I knew I could do the name game with him.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“Bill,” he replied.

With a straight face I asked, “Do you mind if I call you Frank?”

The man, who was DUI, paused for a moment and then smiled as he raised his arms in the air and said, “You can call me anything you want.”

“OK Frank. Tell me what happened.”

Frank went on to tell me how the crash happened and was eventually arrested for DUI. He took everything in stride and was as nice as could be about the entire thing.

You just never know what kind of reaction you’re going to get when you ask to call someone by their wrong name. The answer is sometimes priceless.

Did you blow on me?

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On Saturday night, I responded to a traffic collision where a vehicle collided into a wall. When I arrived, I saw a car on the side of the road next to a block wall that was painted gray. There were tire marks along the wall, which showed the car had bounced up against it a couple of times.

The driver, who we’ll call Jim, was in his 40s and was standing next to his wife. I walked up to him and asked, “What happened?”

The man said, “I dropped my cigarette and hit the wall.”

With a smile I said, “You know they say cigarette smoking can be hazardous to your health.” At first he didn’t say anything, but then managed a nervous laugh. I said, “Thanks for laughing at my jokes.Where’s the cigarette?”

“I have no idea.”

My quick-witted partner said, “I bet you never saw that on the Surgeon General’s warning label before.”  Jim didn’t get the joke, but I laughed because I get Matt’s humor.

While I was talking with Jim, I noticed a strange odor on his breath, so I asked him, “How many beers did you drink tonight?”

“None.”

I said, “I smell something on your breath.”

His wife, who was standing to my right, suddenly blew air out of her mouth at me like I was a birthday candle.

With a scowl on my face, I turned toward the woman and asked, “Did you just blow air at me?”

“Yes,” she replied. After she said that I wondered if she was wacky?

I turned away from her as I looked at Jim. I pointed to a light pole as I said, “Let go stand over there so your wife doesn’t blow on me again.” He and I then walked away. After we were done talking I went back to my car.

A few minutes later Jim said, “I found the cigarette.”

I looked over and saw Jim pointing into the car with a smile.  I walked over and saw a cigarette with a burnt end on the seat. There was also a round hole in the seat that was burned.

The woman looked at Jim as she said, “This is my car and he’s not supposed to smoke in there.”

I couldn’t resist as I said, “He burned a hole in your seat too.”

She put her hands on her hips and gave Jim a look like she wished he had hit the light pole too.

 

Too much information (T.M.I.)

_DSC4559-2I love the things that come out of people’s mouths at traffic collisions. It’s like they stepped into a world where the rules of privacy and too much information don’t exist.

On Friday night, I was at an injury collision at 2AM, involving a woman who had been drinking. During the interview, I asked her where she was coming from. The driver replied, “From my AA meeting.”

That in itself was funny. How could it get any better than that? Well, she didn’t disappoint. A few minutes later, the firefighter asked the woman if she was sick or injured. In a very loud voice she said, “I have a yeast infection.”

I almost burst out laughing at that, but I held it in. Her husband was standing next to us when she said that and stepped forward as he looked at her. The husband loudly said, “T.M.I! T.M.I!

Now I really had to hold it in as I asked the husband to walk away so I could get some information from him. While we spoke, I did everything I could to not smile. I even had to turn away from him. At one point I gave up and told him, “That was funny.”

It’s not every day a DUI driver with a yeast infection crashes while coming from an alcoholic anonymous meeting.  It was like a perfect storm of twisted humor and mishaps.

You never know what’s going to happen next in this wacky world called police work.

I shouldn’t comment on DMV photos

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The other night I responded to a hit and run collision in the parking lot at a fast food restaurant. When I arrived, I saw a man in the parking lot, who was about 35 years old. He saw the police car and flagged me down. I stopped and asked, “Did you call the police?”

“Yes. Thank you for coming.”

“What happened?” I asked.

“I was walking past the drive thru when a Jeep hit me. I ended up on the hood.”

“Did you fall to the ground?”

“No, I fell on my feet.”

“You fell on your feet? Don’t you mean you landed on your feet?”

“No. I fell on my feet.”

I had never heard that before, but I went with it. After he gave me a description of the driver and vehicle, I asked if he was injured from the collision.

“My shoulder hurts. I asked my wife to look at my face to see if one side was drooping.”

What? Was this guy injured in a crash or was he having a stroke? I should’ve asked if one of his arms was numb too.

After I got his statement, I asked him if I could see his identification. He reached into his back pocket and pulled his wallet out. He thumbed through it and handed me his license. I looked at it and noticed his eyes were looking up and to the right. I turned the license toward him and asked, “What were you looking at when they took the picture?”

“My eyes are kind of crooked,” he replied.

Oops, I hadn’t noticed that. I wasn’t really sure where the conversation could go from there, but I tried to salvage it. That was the least I could do.

“Look at me.” I said. He turned his head as I took a quick look. “Naw. You look fine.”

He laughed at that, which was good, because I thought it was funny. Maybe I shouldn’t comment on people’s DMV photo anymore. Well, I probably will. You never know what’s going to come up.

I’ll wait for another ride

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Last night I responded to a hit and run crash involving an SUV, that was disabled in the road. When I arrived, it was turned the wrong way and blocking a lane. It’s right rear tire had been torn from the vehicle and was in the street blocking another lane. The crash also ripped off the rear bumper and tossed it aside like an old toy on Christmas morning. The driver was standing on the sidewalk with two car seats next to her.

She told me, “I was in the intersection when I saw the car coming right at me.”

The suspect vehicle went through a red light and hit the victim on the right rear wheel and bumper area, causing it to spin out of control. Her two small children were in the back seat at the time. The driver said, “I thought we were going to roll over.”

It was amazing they were not injured. This crash could’ve been worse.

After I was done with the interview, I handed her a card with the report number on it. I wished her luck and told her to call her insurance company. She thanked me as she watched her vehicle get dragged  up onto a flatbed tow truck. She told me she only had liability insurance, which meant she was out of luck because this SUV was going to car heaven a week before Christmas.

She shook her head as she said, “I have no money to fix this.”

As I walked back to my car another officer pointed to her rear bumper, which was still in the street. I glanced down at it, but I wasn’t sure what he wanted to me look at. That’s when he pointed at a sticker on the bumper that said, “If you ride with me, be prepared to die with me.”

That’s not the type of sticker that I want on my car. That’s just asking for trouble from the car accident gods. 

Remind me to never to get a ride from this woman or be on the same airplane with her.

Collision 2.0

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On Wednesday night I went to a crash on a residential street. While I was there, I remembered taking a spectacular collision a few years ago on the same street when a car struck a fence and drove into someone’s garage.

It was foggy last night and I asked the witness, “Didn’t a car hit a house over there?”

“Yes,” the witness replied.

I described the damage and how amazing the collision was. The witness told me the house belonged to her neighbor and she remembered that night also. We talked about it briefly and then moved on. I finished the call and left.

On Thursday night, I was sent to an injury collision in another part of the city involving two cars. After talking to the drivers, I contacted the passengers and wrote their information down. One of the passengers told me his address and it rang a bell. His address was very close to where I was last night. It was so close; he was probably my witness’s next door neighbor or two houses away. 

Did he live in the house that I was talking about last night? What were the odds he was a past Badge415 customer?

After the tow trucks left, I drove away and pulled over to look up the address on a map. It turned out he lived in the same house that was hit by the car. 

Did I jinx the guy by talking about his house last night?

I’ve met people from prior collisions before, but this took weird to an entirely new level. This poor guy now has the honor of being the only person in my career that was involved as a homeowner and as a passenger in my collision reports.

Maybe I should start carrying around stickers that say “I’ve met Badge415 twice.”

You can’t make this stuff up.

There’s no crying in traffic

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“There’s no crying in baseball.”

That was a famous line said by Tom Hanks in the movie “A League of Their Own.” Just thinking of that part in the movie makes me laugh.

The other night I drove up on a crash in which a car had struck a really big tree on the wrong side of the road. It was the type of tree that took the impact and still said, “Is that all you got?”

The driver was sitting on the curb and crying as he spoke to officers. He was very respectful and honest. He had been drinking and accepted responsibility for his mistake. I remembered thinking, “Why can’t everyone be like this guy?”

I took his statement and then went to look at the crashed car. He was still sobbing as I walked away. I spoke to some witnesses and then walked back to my car as the tow truck arrived. The tow driver attached his cable to the crashed car and dragged it up the flatbed.

As the car was pulled away from the tree, a loud sound could be heard as metal dragged across the pavement like nails on a chalkboard. The driver heard this and fell back on his elbow and laid in wet grass. The noise of his car being dragged seemed to be make him cry louder. It was as if we he was watching his first love leaving forever as she boarded a plane.

I had a feeling he learned his lesson tonight, but it left me wanting to say one thing…..

“There’s no crying in traffic.”