Playground or Road

While out conducting routine residence verifications, I came within 5 feet of destroying multiple lives.

As a part of my duties, I have to go out into the field and verify that the offenders on my caseload are living where they say that they are living. At one apartment complex where an offender reports to be living, I had become lost. Lost really is not the word...unable to locate with accuracy the building in which I was searching for.

I pulled into a parking lot that slowly looped around, back the way I come. In the center of this loop were a picnic area and a volleyball court. Across the road from the volleyball court was a fenced in playground. In my peripheral vision I noticed that a group of women were sitting at a picnic table next to the volleyball court.

As I continued around the loop searching for the particular apartment number in question, I heard a woman asking for someone to come to her. I discounted it as one of the workers in the playground calling a child. As I neared the playground on my way out of the parking lot the voice grows more urgent.

I looked out the left window, following the voice, and saw that it was one of the women at the picnic table. I noted that she was looking in the direction of the playground and turned in that direction. I thought she might be calling to her child in the playground. Not seeing any of the children near the fence, I again discounted her voice and went back to the task at hand, while she continued to call.

When I neared the entrance/exit intersection of the loop, I leaned forward in my seat to see around the left windshield post. To my horror I see two small children (no more than 2 years old) stepping off the curb and into my path. They were no more than ten feet from the front bumper when I saw them. I put all of my weight into the brake and managed to stop in time.

Here is where I steer away from the main point. Today, I was driving one of the newer fleet vehicles, in this case a 2008 Chevrolet Impala (unmarked, no marking showing that it is a Police vehicle). To be clear, I hate the Impala line. However, today the fact that I was driving it, instead of my preferred vehicle (Ford Crown Victoria) saved the lives of two infants. The Impala I was driving did not have a driver side spot light so evident on all police vehicles. Normally this annoys me to no end, but the fact that it was not there (this being the only vehicle in our fleet without it) gave me the extra sight line to see the children in time.

As the adrenaline high began to wear off, I saw the children continue to play as if nothing in the world was wrong. What continues to amaze me is the complete lack of screams of terror, not just from the mother of the children, but anyone in the playground. I yelled out the window in the direction of the women at the picnic table, "Ma'am! Get your kid's out of the road!" The women turned in my direction and only one called for the children. Do you kennit? She called after them. She did not get up from the picnic table and GET the children.

Now I was livid. Not only did she, and the others, not care about the children enough to watch them. But, she and they did not care enough to get up and get the children out of the road, mere feet from a running vehicle.

I stepped from the vehicle. Badge and gun plainly visible in the sun light. I walked to the front quarter panel of the car and leaned against it. I crossed my arms in an unconscious motion to bottle up the rage and motion for someone to come over. Two of the women respond. The one that was calling to the children and a new one. They approached timidly.

When they were ten feet from me I let loose, "Ma'am, what on God's green earth are your children doing playing in the middle of the street?!" The two women scoop up the children without ever taking their eyes of me. Neither of the women utter an answer. "Do you realize how close they came to dying?!" The caller reacted defensively, "Well you should..." I did not let her finish. "NO! You should have been watching your kids! If I hadn't been paying attention, if I had been going faster, or if my window hadn't been down, they would be DEAD!!" I am relatively certain that most of the people in the complex heard the last part.

"If you and your friends are to freakin' lazy to watch your kids then there is a fenced in playground for them to play in right there. With people willing to watch them." I somehow managed to keep my composure enough not to start cursing at them. I continued to explain that I could call DSS (the Department of Social Services, a State run Child and indigent Adult protection agency) to take the children away, etc. As I go on I noticed that I might as well have been talking to the fence or the volleyball net. I ended the tirade with a simple question, "What are you going to do from now on?" The caller huffs and says, "We'll be more careful next time, sir." I stepped forward to invade her personal space and tell her that there had better not be a next time.

I turned and got back in my car. Slamming the door. When I looked around, I noticed that there was a rather large gathering of people. Dangerous, considering my tirade had taken up all of my focus. However, the closest people were the workers in the playground the people at the picnic table. I drove off slowly to continue my search for the apartment I was originally looking for and I try to put the events aside. This is hard considering the people I was driving past who had come out to see what was going on.

No one was on the phone or had come to the defense of the two women. Apparently the on lookers managed to see more than the Caller, actually seeing the badge, gun and blue lights in the car.

I am not sure if I handled the situation correctly, considering I have never gone off on a tirade of such ferocity before. Nor have I lost such control that I became unaware of my surroundings. But I do know that if I had it to do all over again, I would not change a thing.

Semper Fi Deus
Goose

Eeeeeeewwwwww!!!!!!

(Insert long drawn out sigh)....I know I will get made fun of later for posting this (Casey). However, it is the only thing that has been on note for the past week.

To set the scene, I must first introduce the characters: 1) Myself (W/M yoa: Not that old), 2) My Mother (W/F yoa: older than me, obviously, but does not look her age nor does she act it), 3) weird cash register lady at Lowe's (W/F yoa: unknown). Setting: Lowe's (Super Hardware store).

Okay, my mother is back in town for the weekend. She and my Step-Father drive a Transfer Truck for a living and they stay out on the road for months at a time. So, when she is in town it is a big deal to get a chance to see her. Even for a short amount of time.

While she was in, she decided that she wanted to go by Lowe's and grab some supplies. While on the way to the check out lines she happens to see a small sticker in the Mail box and house numbers section of the store. This sticker states in large, deep red lettering, "BEWARE OF DOG" with a red stencil of a Doberman Pinscher beside it. She instantly snatched it up and said, "Awwww. This will be perfect for the truck!" I look at the sticker and then at her.

To provide a little background, my mother owns a Miniature Dachshund. This Dachshund goes with my mother and step-father on their paid trips around the country and is completely spoiled rotten. I will admit that he is cute....at times...and in small doses.

Knowing this I try and explain to my mother that if she posts that on the truck and the Dog were to happen to bite someone (not that it would and even IF he did it would not break the first layer of skin) that they could be sued for having foreknowledge of the Dog being "Dangerous". She promptly tells me that it is only a joke and that it will still be cute.

Her mind may change when she is paying rent to live in her own home and she is working for some nimrod who managed to get him/herself bit.

We then move on to the check out and meet the weird cash register lady. WCR lady inquires as to the nature of the Dog upon scanning the sticker and my mother states, "My husband thinks it will be funny. We have a Dachsund." WCR then turns to me and says, "Well aren't you just the little practical joker!" I look at WCR lady inquisitively for a second and then catch her meaning. I subdue the urge to shudder and vomit and proceed to the nearest exit with out looking back. Thinking all the while about Oedipus and curtailing more gag reflexes.

A few minutes of waiting outside and I am joined by my mother. On the way to the car she asks me why I walked away for the register like that. I glance at her and try to see if she was making fun of me and could only see concern. I explain what happened in a conspiratorial voice as we load the car. Before I finish, she begins to bellow with laughter. Which continued most of the way home. Once she was able to, for more than two seconds without laughing, she called her husband and began to tell the story, which brought another fit of laughter (from both sides of the phone).

To make this even worse, is the fact that this is the second time that this "mistake" has occured and I still want to bathe in Acid or something to make the dirty feeling go away. God I hope this does not happen anymore, I do not think my fragile psyche can handle it.

Semper Fi Deus
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Dramatized

Alright, alright....I will admit....that I may be....dramatized. There. I said it. It is out for the entire world to see.

Sigh....it was a lot less therapeutic than I thought it would be, oh well.

It has been 31 whole days since the Traffic collision. A lot of progress has been made during that time. Agent M is back at work as of Tuesday, only 2 hours a day and extraordinarily stiff. This being due to the fact that she absorbed a few tons of metal and fiberglass at a high rate of speed. Agent S visited the Office Monday, she is able to talk, but not very loud and for not very long. Agent L is now recovering at home. She still has the Traque, and will for at least a few more weeks. Her jaw will be wire shut for a little longer, and we still do not know if she will need further surgery.

However, mentally all three are still having a rough time. Since Agent M came back on Tuesday I have had several conversations with her about the collision. Mostly about what happened to the cars (where the two cars hit, where they ended up, etc.), how did she get out of the car, and how did we get her (and the other Agents) stuff.

Apparently, Agent M was fading in and out of consciousness the entire time after the collision. She had no idea the EMTs had to practically rip the door off the hinges to get her out and had absolutely no memory of the ambulance ride.

Surprisingly, it was hard to explain to her that while the EMTs were pulling them out of the car, Agent A and I were having to stop the EMTs and get their vests, guns, and gun belts. Hence, where the dramatazation comes in. Since Agent M has returned, I have not really been able to concentrate. The events of that day repeatedly play in my head over and over. Most would simply call this Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) or at least a mild case. I would not.

Unlike the 5 people involved in the collision who suffered physical, mental, and emotional scars, or actual Trauma. I was a mere on looker. Yes, I did have to interact and do things that I did not want to do. I even had a stupid moment where I was trying to figure out if it was dried blood or lipstick on a gun belt buckle.

Currently, I am asking myself why. Why is this collision different? I have worked many collisions when I was a Deputy. I have seen blood, guts, and gore at multiple crime scenes. I know that there is an emotional connection with the 3 co-workers that were involved. However, my Grandmother has had open heart surgery and a Pulmonary artery catheter operation done in the 31 days since the collision.

Should I not be showing more concern for my Grandmother, whom I should have a much stronger emotional bond with. As opposed to 3 women that I did not know until 2 1/2 years ago. I do not know. For some reason I know my Grandmother will be fine, one way or the other.

Mayhap that is the solution.

I know my Grandmother will be fine if she pulls through or does not pull through. I did not and do not know the spiritual state of my 3 co-workers. For a day, I did not know what would happen with 3 of my friends and was worried that Lucifer would have his way. But he did not, they are ALIVE! Their injuries will heal with time and normalcy will return. As far as their spiritual state is concerned, I can only pray, and do what I know how to do. Be an example.

Mayhap as each returns I will have to relive the events of that day. If that be the case, it will be a small price to pay. And I relish the opportunity to continue to face that Demon.

Semper FI Deus

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Back to Basics

Late this afternoon I had a quick, yet thought provoking, conversation with one of the Interns at work. About an hour before we are slated to go home for the weekend the Information Technology people flood our office with brand spanking new laptops. With an IT guy sitting in my work space, I had nothing better to do than walk about the office, poking my nose in everyone else's business.

As I was making my rounds, I happened to see one of the Interns sitting at a desk looking at a 3" three ring binder full of papers. I asked her what she was reading, thinking that mayhap she had found a long lost treasure of a long gone Agent. The intern tipped the cover up, still reading the page, and I see that it was a training manual.

I asked her if she found it interesting. She looked up and stated simply that it was slow. It is a training manual, not Stephen King. I then decided to pry further and asked her how far she had gotten. She said that she was reading several scenarios. Upon hearing this, I could not help but laugh as memories flooded my mind.

My second semester in the local community college, I was taking some Criminal Justice class with an instructor, whom I would have many classes with in the years to come. In this particular class, one of the required books to read was Verbal Judo: The Gentle Art of Persuasion, by George J. Thompson and Jerry B. Jenkins. From what I remember the book basically tried to teach people how to use their most powerful weapons, their Mind and their Mouth.

Later, when I went to the South Carolina Criminal Justice Academy, the book came up again. It was not required reading, but the basics of the book where discussed in class. Both times I wanted to soak up every word. I wanted to have the ability to bring stability to an unstable situation without having to resort to violence.

As I moved into my career, I found that the lessons learned from Verbal Judo were sound in theory. However, when attempting to implement these lessons, I found, in an unstable situation tended to present weakness. Weakness that the predators in my neck of the woods smelled from a league away. Who knows, mayhap I just was not and still am not doing it correctly.

As the world moved on, I began employment at my current Agency and went through training. I read the obligatory Training Manual and the same scenarios that the Intern was reading before I interrupted. If memory serves, there are two or three different scenarios. Each begins with a wrong way to handle a situation (becoming angry, snapping, cursing, etc.) and a right way to handle it (being calm, empathetic, nice, etc.). Implementing the Art of Verbal Judo.

After my laughing fit, I asked her what she thought about the depicted scenes. She said that she had seen many of the first part of the scenes in our office. Another fit of laughter. I asked her why she thought this was, everyone in the office has read the same scenarios, and apparently do not employ the teachings. She could not answer. I said simply that it does not work. The people we deal with confuse empathy with sympathy. Sympathy is weakness and weakness is to be exploited.

I left her to finish her reading and continued to ponder the conversation. I thought about many of the situations that I have been in as a Deputy and as an Agent. I can only think of one that was defused with Verbal Judo. It was actually before my career even started, while I was in College.

I was a Reserve Deputy (think of it as a ride along with a gun and badge), and we were called out to a Domestic dispute. The female victim allowed us to enter the house and we started taking with her. She stated that her husband had been verbally and physically abusive when she called us. I went to the husband and got his name and information. A few seconds later the other Deputy came into the room and pulled out his handcuffs. The husband jumped back to the far wall, took up a fighting stance, and began yelling at the top of his lungs.

His basic complaint was that we had not gotten his side of the story and we were going to take him to jail anyway. The deputy immediately began issuing commands, which went unfollowed, as the husband continued to scream about how we had not gotten his side of the story. Our batons out and ready to strike, something finally clicked in my head. All he wanted was someone to listen to his side. After finally gaining his attention I asked him for his side of the story. As he started relaying his side, he began to lower his voice and his defensive stance. Once his story was told, he went to jail, but without a fight.

Thinking about it now I realize that I had used the most basic principal of Verbal Judo. Empathy. Mayhap, as the world moved on and I became more and more jaded in this world, I lost sight of principals learned. Or, mayhap I learned that empathy and being nice will only get you so far, and the way to go, was to be nice only when others allow.

Semper Fi Deus

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It's a Recession

A simple statement that has been repeated many a time over the past months. From local News casters to Presidents, these words have been the talk all over the United States and the World. Unlike what most would think, I will not speak to the current state of the economy. This was a statement made earlier today by one of my multitude of Offenders that made it to my Office.

Two weeks ago, during a drug class that our department conducts in house, I was asked to help with the drug tests. Two offenders were cut from the herd and told that it was their lucky night. They get the distinct honor of going with me into a small bathroom and urinating into a small plastic cup while I watch. One of the these offenders was on my caseload.

After two of the longest minutes of my life, this offender places a half full cup of urine down on the table. I conduct the drug test and find out that he has been smoking Marijuana very recently. Several minutes go by as we go back and forth as to exactly when the last time he used was. Eventually, he admits to using the night before. This only after I tell him that he will no longer be going to our free drug class, but to a rather expensive alternative. The longer he is untruthful with me the more expensive the alternative becomes.

Once he came clean (so to speak), I told him that he would be going to the cheaper alternative and he would be referred on his next report day. I pay him no attention as he storms out the door.

A few minutes later I walk out to my car and I hear my name called. Wonder of wonders it is my offender. I merely turn and face him. Once he caught up to me he asks how much the alternative drug class would cost. I inform him it would be around $200 for the entire series of classes, depending on how much Marijuana he uses while going to these classes. I hear a long drawn out sigh escape from him and he says, "It's a recession, man!" As if I had been living under a rock for the past several months. I cock my head, look him in the eye with an eye brow raised and ask how the state of the economy gives him permission to break the law. How should this also allow him to escape the consequences of his actions. He did not answer. Only turned and walked away.
Two weeks later he uttered these three words again as I was filling out the paper work to send him to the class. I continued with my task as he continued to state these words like a mantra. I assume in hopes that repetition would out weigh reason. I paid him no attention. I explain the date that he was show for his new orientation and how much money he had to have in order to attend. He told me that he would not be able to get that much money together in the time frame set.

I leaned back in my chair and looked down thoughtfully for a second. After a few seconds of thought I said, "You know, you're right. It is a recession." I looked up and saw how bright and hopeful his eyes got. "Due to the fact that it's a Global recession, you can explain to the Judge why you couldn't get $25 together in a week." It was his turn to look down in thought. "Here is your choice," I continued. "You can keep blaming the economy and go see a Judge, or, you can get your act together and go to a few drug classes. Who knows you may actually learn something." I held the paperwork out to him and he said nothing as he took it and walked out the door.

I do not know if he will actually learn anything in the area about how drugs are bad and why they should not be used. The only thing I do know, is that he learned that throwing current events around will not help him escape the consequences of his actions. If he did not learn it that day then he shortly will. I set my watch and warrant on it.


Semper Fi Deus


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