Читать книгу Street Cop - David Spell - Страница 12

7

A Long Foot Chase

Sometimes, what you see is not what you get. Looks can be deceiving. I was patrolling the small town of Grayson. They do not have their own police department so the county provides coverage for them. This took place in November of 1984 around 11:15 at night. I saw a gray 1975 Buick Apollo parked on the shoulder of Highway 20. It looked like they were broken down. I could see that the right rear tire was flat and almost off the rim. I advised the dispatcher that I would be out on a stranded motorist. I gave her my location and the tag number of the car and activated my blue light.

As I approached the Apollo to see what I could do to help, I noticed that the driver was attempting to move the vehicle. I could see sparks coming from the rim of the flat tire but then I saw that the car was hung up on the curb. Before I could get up to the Buick, however, the driver’s door flew open and a white male bailed out or the driver’s seat and started running. It’s been said that police officers are like Labrador Retrievers. We will chase anything that runs. There is some truth to that. The problem was I had told the dispatcher I was out on a stranded motorist, not in a foot chase. We did not have walkie talkies yet. I hesitated for a moment trying to decide what to do: go back to my patrol car, update radio and request backup or purse the fleeing man. I chose to chase the guy that was trying to get away.

By now, he had about a twenty five yard head start on me. He was running across the parking lot of the First Baptist Church of Grayson. I never have been a great runner but I was only 22 years old at the time and was in pretty good shape. The guy I was chasing was a good sized guy. He was about six foot and weighed at least two hundred pounds. I should have been able to catch him but fear and adrenaline sometimes give people that extra little push. I was yelling at the subject to stop but he just kept running.

We ran behind a house that was the church parsonage, continued behind the church and then back in the direction that we had come. He was trying to get back to his car. After almost two hundred yards, I was starting to close the distance. I was only about ten yards behind him when he turned around to see where I was. That was his undoing. He lost his balance and fell hard to the ground, face first. Before he could try and get back up I dove on top of him. He was about my age and it was clear he was not going to go without a fight. The problem was the long run had winded us both. We just lay there for a few minutes trying to catch our breath. The guy, who turned out to be twenty two years old as well, then started trying buck me off.

I could smell the alcohol on the guy and now realized that he had run because he was driving under the influence and had wrecked his car. I needed to get him handcuffed but he was starting to get his wind back. I managed to get his left wrist handcuffed but his right arm was under him and he kept trying to throw his right elbow at me. Every time he did I punched him in the back. At the time, we carried very cheap, very flimsy flashlights. I had left my nightstick in the car. After all, this was only a stranded motorist. After struggling unsuccessfully for several minutes to get his right hand cuffed, I swung my flashlight at the suspect’s head. Instead of stunning the suspect like I had hoped, my cheap flashlight disintegrated into several pieces all over the ground.

The drunk guy that I was wrestling with said, “Ouch! Is that all you’ve got?”

Now I did not have a flashlight and I was fighting this guy in the dark. I started punching his back and right shoulder in an effort to make him give me his right hand so I could handcuff him. It was not having any effect. Finally, I reached behind me and grabbed the drunk’s testicles. I started to squeeze. He began to scream and curse me with everything he had.

“Give me your right hand,” I ordered.

His level of profanity only increased. I continued to squeeze his testicles until the pain was too much for him, even in his highly intoxicated state. He pulled his right out from underneath him and put it behind his back. I quickly got him handcuffed and searched for weapons.

As I was trying to get the subject to his feet, (no easy task considering his size, level of intoxication, and handcuffs) a man came running up and said, “Officer, are you okay? I saw your car down there and somebody else driving by had seen you run up here. I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

I asked him to help me get the drunk to his feet. The helpful citizen did and then helped me walk him the one hundred plus yards back to the cars we had left behind. On the walk back, the drunk continued to resist and try to pull away, using many colorful phrases and expletives. My helpful citizen appeared shocked. He told the guy, “Listen here, buddy. You need to watch your mouth!”

By the time we got to the cars, Officer John had shown up. When I had not reported back into the dispatcher within five minutes as we are required to do, she had sent another officer to check on me. I thanked the citizen for stopping to help me and shook his hand. He did not have to get involved but he felt like it was the right thing to do.

My arrestee was less than enthusiastic about getting into a police car and Officer John and I had to force him in. A computer check showed that he was a Habitual Traffic Offender which meant that his driver’s license had been revoked for five years and it was a felony for him to be driving. He was charged with that, as well as Driving Under the Influence and Resisting Arrest. Our investigation discovered that the subject had driven off the road just up from where we were and had hit a “School Bus Entering the Highway” sign and knocked it over. He then swerved back onto the road and continued to where I had found him. He had hit the curb and destroyed both of his passenger side tires, actually knocking them loose from the rims. With my charges and the suspect’s previous criminal history, he spent almost a year in jail.