A crazy guy called me crazy...
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A crazy guy called me crazy... was created by Sharkey
I'm not much for "tough guy" stories as we all have em I'm sure and they just seem like a dime a dozen sometimes. I'll post this because, well, it tells a little about me and although I got into HUGE trouble over it, it ended WAY different than anyone would have predicted given the same parameters.
Sometimes it's not the toughness that matters, it's the ingenuity...
I got a call on the radio to respond to a trailer park outside of my normal area to arrest "an insane" man (33yoa) who had gone off of his meds and was beating both of his parents to death.
When I arrived, his mother came running over to my cruiser and was bleeding from her face, her clothes torn, and on the verge of hysteria, screaming "he's gonna kill him - he's gonna kill him".
I stepped out of my cruiser and walked up the steps into the trailer to find one MASSIVE insane guy, probably 6'5 or so and around 300lbs. (I'm 6'1+ and about 240) He had his father pinned face up on the couch, his knee in his chest and was a half a second away from driving his fist into his face AGAIN when he looked up and saw me.
Well, in a split second I had my plan. I acted as if I hadn't even seen him, walked across the room, very calmly picked up the newspaper that was on the floor, sat down in the nice recliner that was there, kicked my feet back and opened the paper as if I was going to read it.
His attention was now 100% on me - trying with all of his might to figure out what the hell I was doing.
Just before I started reading, I tipped the paper down to see him now sitting on his father, not combative at all and staring at me. I said "What's wrong?".
He said "what in the hell are you doing?" and I told him I hadn't had a chance to read the paper yet today and figured this was a good opportunity and he should go back to whatever it was he was doing and not worry about me at all, I was fine.
That's when he started laughing and said "are you (blanking) crazy or what?"
I just laughed casually and said "look, you are probably one of the biggest SOBs I've seen in a very long time and really bud, do I look like I'm in the mood to go muckling with you right now? I mean really. You're HUGE. So I look at it this way, I can either sit here and read the paper until you tire yourself out and then arrest you, I could shoot you, we could duke it out for the rest of the day which would probably make a MESS of my uniform, ORRRRR, you and I could just do it the easy way, make pals, and you can jump into the passenger side of my cruiser, ride down to the barracks with me as if we were old friends and help me with all of the paperwork I'm going to have to do over this mess and then we'll take you back to the IMH (intitute of mental health) where you KNOW you are going to have to go anyway. I'll just read the paper for a few minutes while you decide."
Well, here he was, his mother standing in the doorway waiting to see what the heck was going to happen next, his father, laying under him, unable to move, and him, sitting there scratching his head trying to figure out if I was for real or not.
"So you'll really let me ride up front? No handcuffs or anything?" He was mine.
"Only if I can trust you. Are we going to be friends?"
"What's your name?" I told him and where I was from which was only a couple of towns over.
He was amazed I was from so close and he even knew of my father who is a long time fire chief in the area.
"I'd like to be your friend he said, you really are (blanking) nuts though huh". I just laughed and told him I wasn't nuts, I just knew a good guy when I saw one and he just needed the chance to remember that.
Then I stood up and took a step toward him and extended my hand. (what he didn't know was that my left hand was on one of my stash guns inside my coat pocket).
I thought he was going to cry and as he stood up, he shook my hand like we hadn't seen each other in 20 years. I said "I'm guessing it's friends then eh" and he just shook my hand with both of his own giant paws saying "you betchya".
Before we walked out, I asked him if he'd like to tell his parents he was sorry or anything and as he looked at his father trying to get up off the couch, he turned and helped him up and I'm pretty sure he told him sorry as his mother rushed over to me with tears in her eyes and hugged me like I'll never forget.
He and his father shook hands and made plans for his parents to bring some clothes up to the "country club" for him until he was back on track again. His mother, tears flowing, walked over and gave him a huge squeeze and told him she was SO glad he had a friend now and everything was going to be ok again.
His father shook my hand quietly and thanked me for not hurting him. He also told me it was the very first time his son had ever been arrested without 6 cops and him all wrecking the house and dragging him away kicking and screaming which we all had a bit of a laugh about because "Bob" said "heck, all they had to do all this time was send (insert my name here) and I'd gone anywhere".
I asked him if he was ready to go and with a nod we turned and headed out the door like two old pals and did exactly what I told him we would. When I dropped him off at the happy house he gave me a big bear hug before they took him behind the cage and said if he ever has trouble again, he'll have his mom call and ask for me cuz we're friends now.
Then I went back to the barracks and got my ass reamed for days for being so reckless.
I may have BEEN reckless back then but I also believe that certain circumstances, even some of the most intense, can often be solved by a better mind and not simply by force. Force is easy.
I was taught and wholeheartedly believe in the "levels theory" of aggression and that was one of my greatest tools when dealing with people. It's just something I've always had a "knack" with and I suppose not to mention an Angel on my shoulder.
Who knows.
I don't talk about my old days in uniform very often because I eventually quit and dove into a bottle and a much different life and field for quite a while but I do remember that day as if it were yesterday. One of my prouder moments whether anyone liked how I handled it or not. God knows he and his parents sure loved me for it.
I don't plan on making a habit of talking about my past but sometimes, I let a bit slip. I try not to look back much when I can help it though.
Sharkey
Sometimes it's not the toughness that matters, it's the ingenuity...
I got a call on the radio to respond to a trailer park outside of my normal area to arrest "an insane" man (33yoa) who had gone off of his meds and was beating both of his parents to death.
When I arrived, his mother came running over to my cruiser and was bleeding from her face, her clothes torn, and on the verge of hysteria, screaming "he's gonna kill him - he's gonna kill him".
I stepped out of my cruiser and walked up the steps into the trailer to find one MASSIVE insane guy, probably 6'5 or so and around 300lbs. (I'm 6'1+ and about 240) He had his father pinned face up on the couch, his knee in his chest and was a half a second away from driving his fist into his face AGAIN when he looked up and saw me.
Well, in a split second I had my plan. I acted as if I hadn't even seen him, walked across the room, very calmly picked up the newspaper that was on the floor, sat down in the nice recliner that was there, kicked my feet back and opened the paper as if I was going to read it.
His attention was now 100% on me - trying with all of his might to figure out what the hell I was doing.
Just before I started reading, I tipped the paper down to see him now sitting on his father, not combative at all and staring at me. I said "What's wrong?".
He said "what in the hell are you doing?" and I told him I hadn't had a chance to read the paper yet today and figured this was a good opportunity and he should go back to whatever it was he was doing and not worry about me at all, I was fine.
That's when he started laughing and said "are you (blanking) crazy or what?"
I just laughed casually and said "look, you are probably one of the biggest SOBs I've seen in a very long time and really bud, do I look like I'm in the mood to go muckling with you right now? I mean really. You're HUGE. So I look at it this way, I can either sit here and read the paper until you tire yourself out and then arrest you, I could shoot you, we could duke it out for the rest of the day which would probably make a MESS of my uniform, ORRRRR, you and I could just do it the easy way, make pals, and you can jump into the passenger side of my cruiser, ride down to the barracks with me as if we were old friends and help me with all of the paperwork I'm going to have to do over this mess and then we'll take you back to the IMH (intitute of mental health) where you KNOW you are going to have to go anyway. I'll just read the paper for a few minutes while you decide."
Well, here he was, his mother standing in the doorway waiting to see what the heck was going to happen next, his father, laying under him, unable to move, and him, sitting there scratching his head trying to figure out if I was for real or not.
"So you'll really let me ride up front? No handcuffs or anything?" He was mine.
"Only if I can trust you. Are we going to be friends?"
"What's your name?" I told him and where I was from which was only a couple of towns over.
He was amazed I was from so close and he even knew of my father who is a long time fire chief in the area.
"I'd like to be your friend he said, you really are (blanking) nuts though huh". I just laughed and told him I wasn't nuts, I just knew a good guy when I saw one and he just needed the chance to remember that.
Then I stood up and took a step toward him and extended my hand. (what he didn't know was that my left hand was on one of my stash guns inside my coat pocket).
I thought he was going to cry and as he stood up, he shook my hand like we hadn't seen each other in 20 years. I said "I'm guessing it's friends then eh" and he just shook my hand with both of his own giant paws saying "you betchya".
Before we walked out, I asked him if he'd like to tell his parents he was sorry or anything and as he looked at his father trying to get up off the couch, he turned and helped him up and I'm pretty sure he told him sorry as his mother rushed over to me with tears in her eyes and hugged me like I'll never forget.
He and his father shook hands and made plans for his parents to bring some clothes up to the "country club" for him until he was back on track again. His mother, tears flowing, walked over and gave him a huge squeeze and told him she was SO glad he had a friend now and everything was going to be ok again.
His father shook my hand quietly and thanked me for not hurting him. He also told me it was the very first time his son had ever been arrested without 6 cops and him all wrecking the house and dragging him away kicking and screaming which we all had a bit of a laugh about because "Bob" said "heck, all they had to do all this time was send (insert my name here) and I'd gone anywhere".
I asked him if he was ready to go and with a nod we turned and headed out the door like two old pals and did exactly what I told him we would. When I dropped him off at the happy house he gave me a big bear hug before they took him behind the cage and said if he ever has trouble again, he'll have his mom call and ask for me cuz we're friends now.
Then I went back to the barracks and got my ass reamed for days for being so reckless.
I may have BEEN reckless back then but I also believe that certain circumstances, even some of the most intense, can often be solved by a better mind and not simply by force. Force is easy.
I was taught and wholeheartedly believe in the "levels theory" of aggression and that was one of my greatest tools when dealing with people. It's just something I've always had a "knack" with and I suppose not to mention an Angel on my shoulder.
Who knows.
I don't talk about my old days in uniform very often because I eventually quit and dove into a bottle and a much different life and field for quite a while but I do remember that day as if it were yesterday. One of my prouder moments whether anyone liked how I handled it or not. God knows he and his parents sure loved me for it.
I don't plan on making a habit of talking about my past but sometimes, I let a bit slip. I try not to look back much when I can help it though.
Sharkey
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Replied by Sharkey on topic A crazy guy called me crazy...
That's funny Sisco. I never really looked at it as wisdom. Well learned lessons in PAIN maybe...lol
Thanks though.
Thanks though.
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