Which story is better?
We were called to a barricaded subject who’s either very drunk or hallucinating. He’s doing some odd things. Slashing himself and spraying blood all over his girlfriend’s house. We’re in the kitchen of the neighbor’s house, negotiating with this guy over the phone.
The tactical lieutenant said to us, “Our guys need to see him. Tell him to turn all the lights on.”
We tell him, “We need you to do us a favor, Bob.”
The guy turns them all off, and comes back on the line, proud as a peacock, “OK, I turned them off.”
“No Bob. We need them on. Turn all the lights on.”
“Oh, sorry.” He drops the phone and goes through the house turning the lights on. He’s compliant, but confused, like a little kid.
We can’t see because there’s a fence there, but Tactical radios us, “OK, they’re on.”
Now, without consulting anybody, the negotiator says just like this, “No, Bob. I wanted a Bud Lite.” We just all burst out laughing and laughing.
Then he starts laughing.
Now while he’s laughing the tactical guys just go in and take him out. To this day the negotiator doesn’t know why he said that. It just popped into his head. You had to be there.
I had dropped off my pet at a vet near our transit police headquarters. As I was walking out back to my car I noticed a young big black man running across a schoolyard playground. He hit the chain-link fence, climbed over and ran down the street.
Two other police came up and said, “Get him! Get him!” So I went dashing down the street.
But then I realized, “Ah, I don’t see him.”
Two women hanging out their window said, “He went down there, officer.”
There was a door in the side of the street. I just go in there, walking into the dark until I came out the other side into a series of back yards. Then I began running and jump over fence after fence. I finally come to the last yard where the building rounds the bend into an L. I go running in.
There I see this poor suspect towering over me, but huffing like he was going to have a heart attack. I am just standing there as cool, as non-winded as possible. I had run track in school.
Here I am confronted with him. And I hadn’t had that much practice and I wasn’t really that tough. I’d never have made it in the regular police force. I just wasn’t that aggressive. But all I had to do was say, “OK, you’re under arrest, turn around, put your hands on your head, walk to the wall.”
And he just did everything I said. I didn’t even touch him. He was so astonished that I would show up. He was just so exhausted. After I had put him in cuffs, my two partners showed up.
Then things got interesting. I was the only white person there–black suspect, two black transit police officers.
And they were beside themselves, saying, “Hold him up. Let me hit him!” He had apparently assaulted one of our female officers on her way to work. So here I am, protecting this suspect. Once I had my suspect arrested, I lost all my anger. I thought they were pathetic at that point, because they were defenseless. You had done the worst thing you could do, which was to take away their liberty. I never understood the temptation to beat them further. Even though in the pursuit I’d be agitated, angry.
I’ll never forget that incident. People often say it’s the whites beating the blacks. But here it was two blacks wanted to beat a black suspect. And I was saying, “No, he’s mine. Back off!”