When I went to work at Newnan Police Dept. there were already black police
officers there. As a matter of fact, Sgt. Moses Martin was my mentor and friend and years later, when he died, I cried for our loss.
However, there was a big push to hire more "minorities". It is not a
good idea to hire quantity instead of quality. One case in point,
Cornell Copeland, the sorriest man to ever put on a uniform, of any race. He single-handedly added to stereotyping his race.
When he wasn't sleeping on the job(which we all did-more on that in a
minute), he was very arrogant, had a chip on his shoulder, and yes,
racist.
Back to sleeping. Most, if not all, police officers had
two or more jobs to make ends meet. Naturally, when the third shift
rotated around, we caught up on our sleep if it was a quite night. We
had a simple unwritten rule. If two officers were in the same car, after
checking the first round, the rider would catch some sleep while the
driver kept an eye out. After mid-shift, the two would change, and then
the driver would catch a few winks. In Newnan in those days, there was
not one single business open after 11pm, so things were very, very quite
during the week.
Well, Officer Copeland would jump into the
passenger seat at the beginning of the shift and proceed to sleep the
entire night. No amount of reasoning on my part mattered to him. I
really did try!
Newnan Water Works has several lakes inside the
city which most people at that time had never seen, especially black
people. The property was posted and off-limits to everyone except Water
Works employees and the Police. At the upper lake there is an overflow
with an asphalt underlayment to prevent erosion. At 1am in the morning
that asphalt with 3 inches of water rushing over the top of it looks to
be bottomless. You would routinely drive thru it and continue your
patrol.
Officer Copeland had never seen that little piece of
Newnan, so when I woke him out of sound sleep, at the edge of the
spillway, and told him I thought I could jump it in the patrol car, well
his baby brown eyes got big as saucers!
I backed up about 20 feet, gunned the engine, took off, slinging gravel, and doing the Rebel Yell at the top of my lungs.
Copeland thought we were seconds away from drowning. He started
screaming, cussing, threatening to to shoot me, and crying a little.
Just as we drove through the water, that nut(him not me) opened the door
to jump out, but we were on the other side before he had time to jump.
We both got soaked, but it was worth it. For some reason, he refused to
ride with me again. The Lt. put him on foot patrol when it was his turn
to ride with me.
A short time later he was caught with a
stolen gun and went to jail, but not before we had a few more good times
at his expense. No, I am not sorry.
Friday, February 17, 2012
SCREWING WITH YOUR CO-WORKERS!
Well, who doesn't like to screw with their co-workers!?
To set the stage, there is a type of fireworks called a BOOBIE-TRAP, a
little firecracker with strings on both ends, when pulled sharply,
explodes with the sound of a BLACK CAT firecracker.
Now, if you
take fishing line(nearly invisible) and extend each end of the TRAP,
you can position it to explode, oh I don't know, next to the driver's side window? Now this does not make sense to you now, unless you know what I did for many years--Police Patrolman(in a very, very rural area).
Both the city officer and the Sheriff's patrol office had to check the
security of all businesses late at night. This was very routine and VERY
boring. Well enter ME!
First, after the deputy had called in
the building he had just checked(in code so that criminals could not
come in behind him and rob the place), I would hurry out into the county
to the same building and string up the Boobie-trap.
Sometimes,
just to add a little spice to night, since we did not have 911, I would
get the clerk at the all night convenience store to call in and say
that she had just driven past the rigged building and thought she saw
someone trying to break in. Since she would call the Jailer at the
Sheriff's office, in those days, there was not Caller ID(you have to
cover all the bases).
Of course the unsuspecting deputy would
rush to the building, expecting the worse. If the Trap was at window
height, he may temporarily loose control of the steering wheel(since
that deputy has passed away, yes I caused you to dent the right fender
of your patrol car--sorry).
The most fun was to put it at ankle height around the dark side of the building. I can claim that I made one guy pee his pants.
If I had patrolled in a larger city, I would not have been so mischievous.
Well, actually that's not true. I worked in Newnan and had many more uniformed victims!
Oh, and in closing, SAD FACT #927: Boobie Traps seldom involve Boobies!
To set the stage, there is a type of fireworks called a BOOBIE-TRAP, a
little firecracker with strings on both ends, when pulled sharply,
explodes with the sound of a BLACK CAT firecracker.
Now, if you
take fishing line(nearly invisible) and extend each end of the TRAP,
you can position it to explode, oh I don't know, next to the driver's side window? Now this does not make sense to you now, unless you know what I did for many years--Police Patrolman(in a very, very rural area).
Both the city officer and the Sheriff's patrol office had to check the
security of all businesses late at night. This was very routine and VERY
boring. Well enter ME!
First, after the deputy had called in
the building he had just checked(in code so that criminals could not
come in behind him and rob the place), I would hurry out into the county
to the same building and string up the Boobie-trap.
Sometimes,
just to add a little spice to night, since we did not have 911, I would
get the clerk at the all night convenience store to call in and say
that she had just driven past the rigged building and thought she saw
someone trying to break in. Since she would call the Jailer at the
Sheriff's office, in those days, there was not Caller ID(you have to
cover all the bases).
Of course the unsuspecting deputy would
rush to the building, expecting the worse. If the Trap was at window
height, he may temporarily loose control of the steering wheel(since
that deputy has passed away, yes I caused you to dent the right fender
of your patrol car--sorry).
The most fun was to put it at ankle height around the dark side of the building. I can claim that I made one guy pee his pants.
If I had patrolled in a larger city, I would not have been so mischievous.
Well, actually that's not true. I worked in Newnan and had many more uniformed victims!
Oh, and in closing, SAD FACT #927: Boobie Traps seldom involve Boobies!
SNIPE HUNTING!
Let's relive a favorite(or dark) memory from our childhood--PRANKS PLAYED ON US BY
SOMEONE WE TRUSTED!(and yes, brother, I am talking about you).
As a child growing up in Hogansville, there was less
than nothing to do. Even if all the toys and games that exist today had
been on the shelves back then, who the hell could afford them on cotton mill salaries(of our parents)?
So we played games. Some we made up after watching whatever B MOVIE had
just played at the ROYAL THEATER last, or many times we played games
that had been handed down through the generations.
Case in point: SNIPE HUNTING!
As those of my age know, you get a gullible small child(me), give him a
burlap bag as dusk, have him get on his hands and knees at the end of a
small gulley, open the bag and wait for the other person to flush the
snipes down to you. Of course while you are kneeling there in the dark
terrified with all kinds of thoughts going through your head;
1. What if there are more than the sack will hold, with they be disappointed in me?
2. What if something OTHER than a snipe gets in the bag?
3. What if I catch more than they ever caught, will that make them mad at me?
4. It is REALLY DARK now!
5. What was that noise?
Had I had the experience of years, I would have figured out what just
happened to me by my tormentors laughing like a pack of hyenas. Instead,
when I asked what was so funny, my brother said one of the other boys
had just told a joke and this seemed not to be a good night to catch
snipes.
So they took me out the next night!!! Yes, yes, I was slow to learn back then.
SOMEONE WE TRUSTED!(and yes, brother, I am talking about you).
As a child growing up in Hogansville, there was less
than nothing to do. Even if all the toys and games that exist today had
been on the shelves back then, who the hell could afford them on cotton mill salaries(of our parents)?
So we played games. Some we made up after watching whatever B MOVIE had
just played at the ROYAL THEATER last, or many times we played games
that had been handed down through the generations.
Case in point: SNIPE HUNTING!
As those of my age know, you get a gullible small child(me), give him a
burlap bag as dusk, have him get on his hands and knees at the end of a
small gulley, open the bag and wait for the other person to flush the
snipes down to you. Of course while you are kneeling there in the dark
terrified with all kinds of thoughts going through your head;
1. What if there are more than the sack will hold, with they be disappointed in me?
2. What if something OTHER than a snipe gets in the bag?
3. What if I catch more than they ever caught, will that make them mad at me?
4. It is REALLY DARK now!
5. What was that noise?
Had I had the experience of years, I would have figured out what just
happened to me by my tormentors laughing like a pack of hyenas. Instead,
when I asked what was so funny, my brother said one of the other boys
had just told a joke and this seemed not to be a good night to catch
snipes.
So they took me out the next night!!! Yes, yes, I was slow to learn back then.
THE WARREN BUFFET PLAN!
Obama was quoted as saying that he was going to speak on the (Warren) BUFFET
RULE (?), well, here's the thing, Ole Warren goes around saying that he
is paying a lower tax rate than his secretary. If you just listen to the words and don't do the math, it sounds like he is saying that he pays
LESS than his secretary, however, 15% percent of $75,000(I am just
making up her salary for a point) is $11,250, whereas, 15% of $750 million is $112.5 million. The Damn-ocrats throw
percentages out to make their sheep think that the highly motivated,
risk-taking, hard working, put-it-all-on-the-line folks(vilified as
RICH) are some how cheating. I have my own small business and constantly have people come to my booth and ask, "if I buy more, do I get a
discount?" I then ask if they are democrats, and almost to the last
person, they say yes. Take what you will on that story.
Sadly, envy
is one of the SEVEN DEADLY SINS, whether you you believe in such things
or not, and it is very easy to use such things to spread discontent
among the people.
The honest thing to do is make jobs available for
those who want to work, succeed, and have all the EXTRAS in life, while
providing a threshold for existence for those who do not.
And
lastly, yes there are dishonest, crooks, mean, evil,___________(use your
favorite word) in WALL STREET, just as many or more as there are ing
WASHINGTON.
RULE (?), well, here's the thing, Ole Warren goes around saying that he
is paying a lower tax rate than his secretary. If you just listen to the words and don't do the math, it sounds like he is saying that he pays
LESS than his secretary, however, 15% percent of $75,000(I am just
making up her salary for a point) is $11,250, whereas, 15% of $750 million is $112.5 million. The Damn-ocrats throw
percentages out to make their sheep think that the highly motivated,
risk-taking, hard working, put-it-all-on-the-line folks(vilified as
RICH) are some how cheating. I have my own small business and constantly have people come to my booth and ask, "if I buy more, do I get a
discount?" I then ask if they are democrats, and almost to the last
person, they say yes. Take what you will on that story.
Sadly, envy
is one of the SEVEN DEADLY SINS, whether you you believe in such things
or not, and it is very easy to use such things to spread discontent
among the people.
The honest thing to do is make jobs available for
those who want to work, succeed, and have all the EXTRAS in life, while
providing a threshold for existence for those who do not.
And
lastly, yes there are dishonest, crooks, mean, evil,___________(use your
favorite word) in WALL STREET, just as many or more as there are ing
WASHINGTON.
IF I LEAN.....
I don't use this word, but this is funny!
WHEN I'M 100, IF I LEAN A LITTLE, LET ME!!
The family wheeled Grandma out on the lawn, in her wheelchair, where the activities for her 100th birthday were taking place.
Grandma couldn't speak very well, but she would write notes when she needed to communicate.
After a short time out on the lawn, Grandma started leaning off to the
right, so some family members grabbed her, straightened her up, and
stuffed pillows on her right side.
A short time later, she started leaning off to her left, so again the family grabbed her and stuffed pillows on her left side.
Soon she started leaning forward, so the family members again grabbed
her, and then tied a pillowcase around her waist to hold her up.
A nephew who arrived late came up to Grandma and said ....
'Hi, Grandma, you're looking good! How are they treating you?'
Grandma took out her little notepad and slowly wrote a note to the nephew......
'Bastards won't let me fart!
WHEN I'M 100, IF I LEAN A LITTLE, LET ME!!
The family wheeled Grandma out on the lawn, in her wheelchair, where the activities for her 100th birthday were taking place.
Grandma couldn't speak very well, but she would write notes when she needed to communicate.
After a short time out on the lawn, Grandma started leaning off to the
right, so some family members grabbed her, straightened her up, and
stuffed pillows on her right side.
A short time later, she started leaning off to her left, so again the family grabbed her and stuffed pillows on her left side.
Soon she started leaning forward, so the family members again grabbed
her, and then tied a pillowcase around her waist to hold her up.
A nephew who arrived late came up to Grandma and said ....
'Hi, Grandma, you're looking good! How are they treating you?'
Grandma took out her little notepad and slowly wrote a note to the nephew......
'Bastards won't let me fart!
I AM WITH THE C.I.A., Y'ALL!
I had heard their ads on WSB-750 Radio several weeks ago. I laughed out loud and let my fertile brain run with thoughts of the kinds of people that would apply.
If you are not familiar with this station, it is a talk radio station and it is conservative. When I say conservative, I mean far, far right, and that's OK. Everyone is entitled to give their views and have their audience. I am told that there are liberal radio stations, although I would find it hard to believe that Bert and Ernie would take time off from Sesame Street to do such a show.
I do not know what other stations, or on which other shows that the CIA advertise, as I listen to Neal Boortz. Well, actually, I listen to get the morning traffic every 6 minutes(invaluable if you drive in Atlanta), and Neal's show is on.
Now think about it. Advertisers "target"(no pun intended) their market, looking for a certain type of person. Neal is hard core far right. At the end of the commercial is the legal tag, "The CIA is an equal opportunity employer without regard to race, religion, sex, age, or ethnic background." YEAH, RIGHT!
I can not see:
a liberal agent saying, "Can't we all get along?"
a religious agent saying, "Let us pray over this, Bin."
a female agent saying, "Really? Really that's your excuse!?"
a young agent saying, " Like WOW! Cool torture devices!"
an old agent saying, "In my day we just shot 'em like a dog!"
a black agent saying, "What did you call me?"
You get the idea. And what about the kinds of programs that the CIA might advertise on; The Rick and Bubba Show? Let your mind wander as to the caliber of agents these would be. I am thinking at least 12 gauge.
I can see a covert mission with to good ole boy agents, sleeves cut out of their shirts, two deer rifles in the gun rack of the camouflaged, muddy pick up, rolling up to a mosque and asking, "Any y'all fellas seen Bin Laudin round these parts?"
Does the 700 Club advertise for the Company? Lord help us if they do!
Monday, February 6, 2012
I WISH HE HAD HIT ME LIKE THAT!
In the rural West Georgia region known as Heard County, in the late '70's, it was a much different world than anywhere else at the time and certainly no resemblance to anything today.
Law enforcement was most definitely not the same as any other city that had more than two traffic lights. Yes, not only did I work in a town that had only 1 traffic light, it was the only traffic light in the entire county. As a matter of fact, Franklin was the only real town in the whole county. We had a police department consisting of a chief and 4 patrolmen. We worked on rotating shifts, with 1 officer on each shift and the 4th on his days off. The Chief would work day shift on Sat. and Sun. having the day man work a 12 hour shift Fri. and Sat. nights, overlapping the 2nd and 3rd shifts so that 2 officers could handle the weekend mischief.
Other than the weekends, 2nd and 3rd shifts were very lonely. Your only company was the lone deputy at the Sheriff's office.
Don't get me wrong, things happened in that county thru the years that I worked there, but not the non-stop action as you see on TV shows. Even in large towns and cities there are times when nothing happens. In a rural town there is more nothing than something.
About 8pm on Summer's evening, I observed a car approaching at well over the speed limit. As it got closer, I recognized the young man and even knew his parents. He was a good kid and his parents were hard working people, the kind you would like to have for neighbors.
Well "Little Sonny Boy" usually drove the speed limit and obeyed the law. Judging from the bouncing around in the passenger's seat, I surmised his friend was egging him on. Wonton criminal behavior was not to be tolerated in Franklin, Ga.--not on my watch!
As the car approached and saw me, it began to slow down. I turned on the blue lights, just to let them know what was about to happen. A short distance down the road, we pulled to a safe shoulder, where I walked up to the driver's side.
I stood there and just shook my head, waiting for a good story. I really did not like to write tickets. I thought it was better to convince, in one way or another, the offender to obey the law. I must say that I was a little surprised when this pipsqueak stuck his head out of the window and said, "You gotta problem?"
"Did I have a Problem?" I had more fire power than anyone in the entire county. I had all the modern communications. A small army of like armed men were at my call. Hell No, I did not have a problem!
Doing the math quickly in my head, ticket, towing, court costs, etc., I know his folks could ill afford that mountain of cost. What could I do that would solve his problem and mine.
I quickly opened his door, took him by his left arm, stood him in front of me at the back post of the car, out of sight of his friend. I instantly swung my right arm in a wide arch, hitting the bill of the ball cap he had on backwards, knocking it over the hood of the car. At the same time I slapped my thigh with my left hand, sounding for all the world like I had rattled the wise-ass kids brains.
The kid was so confused that he was not sure whether I had really popped him or not. The now terrified sidekick sat motionless. "Get back in that car, slow down, and mind your manners."
Just as I was about to walk back to my vehicle, I turned, went to the passenger's side and took out the passenger, stood him erect, then slapped his cap off.
"Mr. Officer, Sir, why did you do that?"
"I'll tell you why. You wanted me to. You would not have gotten two blocks down the road when you would have turned to your friend and said, 'I wish he had hit me like that!'"
Those two are grown with kids of their own now and I never did have a minute's trouble with them.
Law enforcement was most definitely not the same as any other city that had more than two traffic lights. Yes, not only did I work in a town that had only 1 traffic light, it was the only traffic light in the entire county. As a matter of fact, Franklin was the only real town in the whole county. We had a police department consisting of a chief and 4 patrolmen. We worked on rotating shifts, with 1 officer on each shift and the 4th on his days off. The Chief would work day shift on Sat. and Sun. having the day man work a 12 hour shift Fri. and Sat. nights, overlapping the 2nd and 3rd shifts so that 2 officers could handle the weekend mischief.
Other than the weekends, 2nd and 3rd shifts were very lonely. Your only company was the lone deputy at the Sheriff's office.
Don't get me wrong, things happened in that county thru the years that I worked there, but not the non-stop action as you see on TV shows. Even in large towns and cities there are times when nothing happens. In a rural town there is more nothing than something.
About 8pm on Summer's evening, I observed a car approaching at well over the speed limit. As it got closer, I recognized the young man and even knew his parents. He was a good kid and his parents were hard working people, the kind you would like to have for neighbors.
Well "Little Sonny Boy" usually drove the speed limit and obeyed the law. Judging from the bouncing around in the passenger's seat, I surmised his friend was egging him on. Wonton criminal behavior was not to be tolerated in Franklin, Ga.--not on my watch!
As the car approached and saw me, it began to slow down. I turned on the blue lights, just to let them know what was about to happen. A short distance down the road, we pulled to a safe shoulder, where I walked up to the driver's side.
I stood there and just shook my head, waiting for a good story. I really did not like to write tickets. I thought it was better to convince, in one way or another, the offender to obey the law. I must say that I was a little surprised when this pipsqueak stuck his head out of the window and said, "You gotta problem?"
"Did I have a Problem?" I had more fire power than anyone in the entire county. I had all the modern communications. A small army of like armed men were at my call. Hell No, I did not have a problem!
Doing the math quickly in my head, ticket, towing, court costs, etc., I know his folks could ill afford that mountain of cost. What could I do that would solve his problem and mine.
I quickly opened his door, took him by his left arm, stood him in front of me at the back post of the car, out of sight of his friend. I instantly swung my right arm in a wide arch, hitting the bill of the ball cap he had on backwards, knocking it over the hood of the car. At the same time I slapped my thigh with my left hand, sounding for all the world like I had rattled the wise-ass kids brains.
The kid was so confused that he was not sure whether I had really popped him or not. The now terrified sidekick sat motionless. "Get back in that car, slow down, and mind your manners."
Just as I was about to walk back to my vehicle, I turned, went to the passenger's side and took out the passenger, stood him erect, then slapped his cap off.
"Mr. Officer, Sir, why did you do that?"
"I'll tell you why. You wanted me to. You would not have gotten two blocks down the road when you would have turned to your friend and said, 'I wish he had hit me like that!'"
Those two are grown with kids of their own now and I never did have a minute's trouble with them.
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