Christopher Tipton - Tales from the Street: Stories of Police Work

Christopher Tipton

Cover art and glyphs by

Luna Rain/MRT

COPYRIGHT 2012 Christopher H.Tipton

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ISBN 9781476312903

Table of Contents

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Preface

Tales from the Street is a collection ofvignettes and short stories collected from the experiences of boththe editor and contributors. Some names, places, and departmentshave been disguised to protect the guilty and the innocent. Thesestories come from police officers, paramedics, attorneys, and courtreporters who deal with this nonsense, silliness, and poignancy ona daily basis. All contributors have requested anonymity.

1. YouKnow You're a Street Cop, When...

1. You ask someone for ID and they give youthe last ticket a cop wrote them.

2. You accept that ticket as legit ID.

3. Mother Fucker is a simple greeting, notan insult.

4. You think youre bi-lingual because youcan speak and understand Ebonics in addition to English.

5. You think 15-rounds of 9mm in the chest ofa dead body in a crack house is a natural death.

6. Seeing someone wearing a long leather coatin July, makes you think shotgun, not crazy.

7. You put violent mental patients into thetrunk of your scout car because you know they will calm down inthere because of the darkness and no one is threateningly near.

8. You think a class on Suicide How to doit right the first time would be a great idea.

9. Youre sent to an address, you know wholives there, and you decide to lock them up before you evenarrive.

10. You unhook your seatbelt in your personalcar just before arriving at your destination.

11. Saying It's quiet tonight is the kissof death to a quiet night.

12. You think Mopery in Public and Stupidin Public should be real crimes.

13. You believe a birth certificate should berevocable up to age 18.

14. You never stand in front of a door evenif youre knocking on your moms door.

15. You can go out to eat after a messyhomicide, AND talk about it while you eat.

2. The Asshole

I was on afternoon shift and we were all intraffic court early one afternoon before our shift started.Afternoon shift was full of younger, aggressive police officers whoarrested or wrote tickets to damned near anything that moved inviolation of state statute or city ordinance. Yes, I was proud tobe on afternoon shift.

One of the guys I worked with was originallyfrom deep Alabama. After he served with the Army in Vietnam, hecame to Detroit to work in a car factory, and then got a job as acop. His Southern accent had moderated over the years, but not bymuch. He was also famous on the department as probably thewittiest, fastest, comeback artist on the force. He was a reallygood cop too. Ill call him Bob, to protect the innocent (haha).

Bob had written a ticket to somebody who wasobviously contesting it. I missed Bobs initial testimony, whichwould have been a formal recitation anyway, and now the defendantwas having his say. The defendants whole defense essentiallyrevolved around his claim that Bob had called him an assholeduring the traffic stop. The defendant demanded, DEMANDED, anapology and a dismissal.

The judge looked at Bob and asked, Well,officer, did you call him an asshole? Of course, the judge alreadyknew that answer based on the defendants demeanor in court. Boblooked at the judge, smiled, and shrugged his shoulders.

The judge said, "Well, officer. I think youshould apologize, dont you?

Bob said, Yes, Your Honor. At which pointBob turned, perfectly straight-faced, looked the defendant right inthe eye, and with that slow, deep Southern accent booming throughthe dead silent courtroom said, Ahm sorry yore an asshole.

The whole courtroom fell out, and I meanthere were at least 100 people in there if there was one. Everyonewas laughing, especially the judge. Everyone except the defendant,that is.

The defendant was spluttering, Thats,thats, thats not an apology!

The judge, wiping away tears, said, I thinkthat is the entire apology youre going to get today. Guilty. $75fine. Pay the clerk.

The judge had to take a couple of minutesrecess in chambers to get over the giggles after that one. For afew weeks, every time the judge saw Bob, he would start to laughall over again.

Yep, I was really proud to be on afternoonshift.

3. The Old ItalianLady

Early fall in Michigan, even in the city, canbe very pleasant and it was a tourist bureau kind of nice, sunny,cool, early fall Sunday morning on day shift, until... 3-6, go to16417 Pine. Meet the fire department on a DOA. Great.Wonderful.

The address was in the south end of the city,an area with a large concentration of old country immigrants. Old,old country folks, salt of the earth kind of people, but getting onin years.

I met the fire department paramedics whoresponded on an elderly man not breathing. They werent initiallysure of the problem as the old Italian woman who called 911, couldhardly speak English. Double great. My spoken Italian was patheticdespite growing up around Italians and a military sponsored trip toItaly.

I went into the bedroom with the medics andwe viewed the body for signs of foul play, etc. There were none, ofcourse, but I had to check by law. He was pretty much in full rigormortis so hed been dead for a number of hours. Luckily, he waslying on his back in a fairly normal position so his wife wouldnthave to keep seeing him in some grotesque, twisted position. Wecovered him up nicely and I went to talk to the lady while thefiremen packed their gear, politely gave their condolences (youalways did that in these bedroom communities), and left.

The old lady was 92-years old and her husbandwas 97. He had obviously died peacefully in his sleep and Mamadidnt notice until she tried to wake him for church. Papa stilldrove. As it turned out, Papa had done everything except cook, keephouse, and raise babies. They had been married in Italy when shewas just 14 and he was 19. Married for 78-years. Wow. Mama didntknow how to do anything else, although Id have bet she was thebest at what she did know how to do. Looking around at the house itwas obvious she was still vigorous. The place was so clean doctorscould do surgery in there.

The old couple had three children, two boysand a girl. One son had been killed in action in the Korean War.The other two kids lived out-of-state. Not good.

Neighbors started coming over when theambulance left, and for a little while, this was helpful, but mostwere newer residents and didnt really know the old couple well.One old Polish lady came in and made espresso coffee for Mama andme. She had known Mama for years, but neither one of them couldhardly speak English, never mind each others language. However,they were widows-in-common now.

Finally, I had to get to things. In Michigan,the police or the medical examiner had to respond to all unattendeddeaths (meaning unattended by a treating physician) or suspiciousdeaths. This was unattended. Papa was the picture of healthaccording to Mama. She showed me recent photos, and Papa did lookdarned good for his age (until this morning).