Police

No damn peace anywhere, anymore.

~ Ron Walker ~ 27 Comments

Blame it on the pandemic, blame the solar winds. Hell, blame it on the chem trails, or maybe Karma finally located my forwarding address. What ever it is, it just seems to follow me at times.

Our neighborhood is a quiet one. There is an area about a mile away that is a little, shall we say, different. Working class and retirees live here in our neighborhood. Our only difference, is we live on the corner leading into our neighborhood which is the corner of two well travelled roads. Therefore, if you break down, or you’re up to mischief, this is very convenient to you.

Last night, around 8pm, the dogs in the entryway went crazy barking. I was relaxing and watching TV. They were highly agitated, and I heard a light knocking on the door. I asked through the door who it was. A male voice said he needed some help. The dogs were crowded right behind me growling. Thinking anyone up to no good would have been wary of doing anything bad after hearing such large dogs, I opened the door a little. There is a super strong security/storm door with shatterproof glass next.

There stood a black male, about 5’7″ around 30-40 years of age. Stocky with a thick jacket on, and a beanie type cap. He said his woman had put him out on the road, and he needed a ride home. I couldn’t tell if he was crazy, drunk, high, or just slow in the head. He seemed out of sorts. I told him I couldn’t give him a ride anywhere. Then he asked if he could come in and use my phone. I told him I was sorry, but no he needed to leave, or I could call 911 and get him some help. He stepped out into the yard, and I closed the door.

He returned and knocked on the door again while I was standing there. I told him he needed to leave my property, that I was calling 911 to get him a ride. He then reached out and grabbed the handle to the security door, trying to open it. I told him to step back, or the dogs would eat him. I called 911 while standing there, and he reached in his left jacket pocket. Of course, I’m that guy… My hand went to the small of my back where I carry my weapon when I answer the door.

I gripped the handle just in case he pulled out a weapon. He pulls out a damn cell phone, that is when the hair on my neck stood up. He was just possibly trying to get entry to the house through the pretense of needing a phone. I think he was just mentally loose in the head or really high on something. No criminal would try to force their way into a home with three large dogs snarling ahead of them. Plus, a wary criminal would have noticed me reaching around behind my back.

While waiting for the Police to arrive, which only took about two minutes. He looked around the porch moving a shutter there that was leaning against the wall waiting to be painted, as if looking for something he might like. Upon the arrival of the Police, they informed me that they recognized him when they pulled up, they had dealt with him before. They left with him and that ended the night of excitement. Naturally, the security cam for the porch had died a week before and not been replaced yet. So we can’t share any video of that crazy moment.

It seems nowhere is free from trouble. I just want to relax. On the bright side, it may never happen again. But who knows. I will be getting another camera up on the porch, pronto.

Comments always welcome.

Yard Sale and entertainment. Trailerhood Style.

~ Ron Walker ~ 20 Comments

Nothing like an early morning yard sale on a Saturday. Especially, when you can have some entertainment at the same time. This past Saturday, we set up a small yard sale about 1000 feet down the road, in a small clearing near the storage buildings. Around 6:30 am I heard what sounded like two gun shots. I thought perhaps it was a hunter in the woods across the road.

About 30 seconds later, we see a stocky white male running around the front of the house in this picture about 200 feet from us, and then run around behind the house, as if he were hiding. Moments later he reappears from behind the house, looking like a squirrel trying to dodge an oncoming vehicle. Sprints across the yard and jumps the fence, then runs towards our trailerhood. The area is soon swarmed by sheriff’s deputies. We learn that the two shots were fired by a homeowner of the house that the young man was trying to break into.

To make his day even worse

The county finally located and apprehended him in the trailer-park, he probably lives or stays with someone in the park. He was more than likely looking to score some easy loot, to sell for crack. To make his day even worse, after being shot at, he starts having chest pains and goes into a full-blown panic attack. An ambulance arrives and checks him out, then he is carted off to jail. He may have had a worse day, had he attempted to rob us of the change we had for the yard sale instead of burglarizing a house. I had a weird feeling that morning, so carried my licensed concealed firearm, as did Michelle.

It’s a sad statement of our society, when you have to arm yourself just to have a yard sale. Yes, Spring is here, the weirdos are starting to thaw out.

Comments welcome,

Nothing Stinks, like a Traffic Citation.

~ Ron Walker ~ 8 Comments

The infamous citation book.

Okay, the attention getting title is just a pun, but these citations really stunk? Stank? Smelled bad. This morning I got a chuckle out of another blogger’s post at Views and Mews by Coffee Kat.  The subject was the smell left by dying pests in and around your home. Some animals are horrible, other smaller ones don’t stink as much after death. How is your olfactory sense. Good? Bad? Mine is okay. There was about a two-week time, when I could smell colors. Check out my post on that from 2014 The Old RedBull joke, is no longer funny. 

Many years ago, right after the invention of the wheel, I was a Police Motorcycle Officer. I loved it. Nothing better than getting paid to ride a massive Harley Davidson, and enjoy the ride. On one occasion I had a mystery odor that was shared unintentionally with many people.

On the right side of the Harley, as pictured below,  was a leather pouch that was attached to the front edge of the saddlebag. This carried the Citation book, which was a flip open aluminum type.  We kept our motorcycles immaculate, or as close as possible. Wiping them down each afternoon at the start of the shift. The pouch carried nothing but the citation book. The book was always removed at the end of the shift. Once in a while we blew it out with air to remove excess dust, or items that might have been picked up from the air. Nothing larger ever got in, due to it being protected by our leg in front, and the air-stream flowing around the bike.

 I was off for three days. Upon my return to work, I noticed a strange smell each time I would be filling out a citation. It was a light smell, even with putting my nose close enough to the paper to touch it,  but slightly repugnant. Thinking it must be the printing process or the paper. I continued to write citations, even getting a new book, the odor continued to haunt me. This continued for about a week. Then it got strong enough to resemble the odor of decomposition after death. Apparently, a small young bird had flown into the shed where we kept the motors, flew into the pouch and died. That, or by some million in one chance, it did get scooped into the pouch  while riding. And now the smell was permeating the paper of the book. 

I got ribbed by the others, but I reminded them they also had their nose to the book trying to identify the odor.  Not to mention, somewhere there were about 75 people that week, probably sitting around grumbling and sniffing the citations, trying to figure out why they had such an odor. No one complained, so that was a plus.

That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.

Comments welcome, (no sniffs please) 

Freaky Friday, reminds me of the movie “The Happening”.

~ Ron Walker ~ 17 Comments

I hope some of you have seen the movie “The Happening”. It would help you understand what it has felt like around here today. I have been relaxing and just playing on the computer most of the day.

I have a police scanner here on the desk, it helps me know if someone in the park has lost their marbles, then I know to lock my door.

The world around us has been crazy today.

  • This morning they had at least 2 emotionally disturbed (psychotic) people within 6 miles of us.
  • Then there was some 15 year old on his porch with a shotgun, threatening to commit suicide.
  • If that wasn’t enough, some man calls about 5 miles away, and reports that people renting a room from him are fighting, and he needs deputies to come out and control them, he can’t get his house cleaned up, while they are fighting. Now that’s weird!
  • Around lunch, someone is stabbed in the face and left chest. 6 miles away (as the crow flies). Domestic fight.
  • After lunch, someone’s ex-husband has shown up at the females house and fired a gun outside. He then comes in the house, woman and new boyfriend run out into the backyard. Ex eventually, at the sound of approaching sirens, takes off on foot, deputies catch him in the woods a short time later.
  • Then the worst one of the day, about 10 minutes ago, a high speed pursuit from town 7 miles to our south, comes all the way out here, passes the house, then goes back onto the county roads behind us. About 2 miles down the county road, they over-turn, ejecting the occupants (4). One of which, is a toddler. What kind of special idiot is a person that risks the life of a child running from the police. I just heard the life-flight helicopter overhead, that the medics had requested. I also heard the Chaplin responding to that scene.

Like I said, it reminded me of the movie. The plants were tired of humanity and decided it was time to thin it out. The plants were releasing some type of substance/pollen. You couldn’t see it or smell it, but people started acting crazy. It’s been all around us today. Nothing in the park though. Or is it waiting for tomorrow. (Cue scary music)

Comments always welcome, might want to toss a prayer in, for the little tyke in the vehicle wreck.