Friday, October 14, 2011

Cop shop stories...

The last couple weeks at the substation have been quiet, with a few interesting moments.

Last week, a guy came in, and asked a question about getting boxes to a family member, who was under a restraining order.  I didn't have a clue about what was needed for that, and knew a deputy was in the back, so I walked back to ask him...

He was on the phone, and as I walked up I heard, "Poison??  And you know this how?"

This sounded... unique.  The deputy scowled, then continued, sounding rather nonplussed, "It does that, huh. Yes, I am lis-... No, but how do you think they are getting in?"

I wrote a note that at his convenience, could he come up and talk to the man in front. (But, man, did I want to eavesdrop on that conversation!)  So, I went back up front, and let the gent know that the deputy would be up front soon to help him, and we had a bit of a conversation about rock hounding, and I tried to stay out of the man's "personal space".

I have come to find out, I can be polite, I can get information for almost anyone, but two things stop me short.  Body odor, and heavy smoke smell.  This guy had just enough of both for me to go into "polite secretary" mode, where I talk from my desk while typing. (They don't have to know what the typing is, and in most cases, it is actual 'work', I write the newsletter for the Seniors And Law enforcement Together {SALT} group.)  Most of the deputies don't even seem fazed by it, but it doesn't seem to get any better for me.  I had to work with one person a while ago, that I ended up excusing myself, and putting some menthol grease up my nose.  This gent was sort of mild, comparatively, but still more than my nose, or stomach, particularly wanted to deal with.

The deputy finished with his call, then came up front and asked how he could help.  The gent then replied, "You need to keep some boxes to give to this relative, I've got a restraining order against him."  The deputy said that the Sheriff's Office (SO) didn't keep items to send from one person to another, and besides he didn't know who the man was talking about.

"Well, of COURSE you do!  It's my relative John Doeazz, you guys check up on him all the time!"  Calmly, the deputy explained that first, he wasn't with Parole and Probation, so he wouldn't know him, again, that the SO isn't a storage area for transfer of items, and did the man have a current address.  They could help, after the man had contacted the relative.

"Hell, no, I don't know where he lives, that's what the restraining order is about."  The deputy continued to calmly explain that unless the man had an idea where said relative lived, and could contact him, preferably by letter, that there wasn't much that any one could do.  The deputy encouraged him to possibly contact friends of the relative, but by that point, the man was just... upset, and saying that he had all this 'stuff', and he wanted the room in his shop back, and how was he going to get it back to him if  THE SHERIFF'S OFFICE didn't do something.

The deputy asked if he knew the relative's Parole Officer.  That lead to the man snorting, and saying he didn't know or care, that was the Sheriff's Office's problem, not his.  The deputy looked slightly bemused, and said, well, you have to be able to contact John Doeazz in some manner, and that would either be through a letter, or his parole officer.

This went on for no less than 40 minutes, when finally the man shook his head, mumbled "all I was trying to do was get the stuff back to him NICELY", then walked out.  I commented that the 'stuff' was in 4 boxes, and he'd had it for two years, somehow I don't think he was that serious about getting it back to the rightful owner.  The deputy responded, "Might or might not, but we aren't a storage facility.  He has to find out if the guy wants the stuff back."

You have to deal with some interesting folks, I quipped.  He got a half-grin, and said, at least this one was mostly normal.   He then told me about the phone call I had overheard.  A lady had called to report that she was being poisoned by a neighbor that snuck in.  She didn't know what the poison was, but it made her forgetful, and then when she was asleep, the same neighbor would sneak in and steal her appliances, and replace them with broken ones.

Quite honestly, I had no clue what to say to that.

I said, gee, it's not even... We both finished, "the full moon yet!"  He looked slightly chagrined, and said, "well, I am on duty, so I am going to go have a strong... coffee."

The fun never ends...


This last Wednesday, I was sitting quietly at the desk, and the Sargeant was there.  He is a stout man, sort of laid back, and rather joking.  (The man referred to me as Rookie for at least 6 months when I started volunteering.)  I hadn't seen much going on, and had the radio on low.  I heard a deputy on the radio call for assistance with a falling victim.  He was first on scene.  She was fine, he said, concious, yada, yada, yada, but she was 450 pounds.  


Dispatch called for assistance for him.  


I sort of zoned out after that, it was the usual, I am going here, I am checking this, I have arrived here communications that make up probably about 75 percent or more of what is on the "public" channel.  The interesting thing, I can also hear at least one or two of the "private" channels that the deputies use.  (If you watch cop shows, it's sometimes referred to as TAC 1, or whatever number.  It's just usually a frequency that they don't release to the general public...)  


Anyway, I had heard the radio in the back, that was on the other frequency, come to life, but didn't hear what was said, except for "code 3".  This had an instantaneous effect on the Sargeant.  I hear this crash and thumping, and realize it's the sargeant at a dead run to his car outside. (I later figured out the crash was his rolling office chair hitting the wall...)  I turned up the radio I had, and heard one, then another, and another deputy showing up at a particular place, then quiet for a bit.  Soon, I heard them clear, and a few minutes later, the Sargeant shows up again, along with another deputy. (Code 3, by the way, means that lights and siren can be used, i.e., it's important...) 


Uh, everything okay?


The sargeant, in his usual laid back fashion, nods, yeah, just a couple guys in a screaming match in front of a bar.  But when 4 officers show up to 'encourage' them to settle down, they decided to leave.  I told them to go home.   I saw the guy's bike at another house, but if we don't get any more calls like that, I will be happy.


About then, my parents showed up to let me know about my Grandma.  Grandma has been ill, and they wanted to give me an update.  After a bit of conversation, Mom had to go to the nearby post office, and I saw the deputy slip out.  


Another person came by, and I was busy trying to get her some information, when Mom came back.  I was on the phone with dispatch, and saw the deputy walk up by me.  He saw that I had the one person well in hand, and then went and talked to my Mom and Dad, unaware that they'd been talking to me.


According to what Mom said, he asked if they need help.  Mom said no, that they were just relaying some information about my grandmother.  From what Mom described, the deputy suddenly got rather intense, asking if it was serious, did he need to be there, was everything okay.  Mom assured him that it was okay, and that it was just a routine thing.  He then relaxed, and went back to his desk.  


It's nice to know that "my guys" are concerned about me as much as I am about them!
  

6 comments:

Judith said...

Great post, Cat. Sounds like an interesting place to work.

Sharon said...

Hmm, it sounds like an interesting job, I wouldn't have it long though, if it was me... I am too nosy.
:-)

The Merry said...

Have to agree with both of the above. It does sound interesting, and I don't think I would do well there for long. Not because I'm nosy though (though I am) but because I'd probably be curled up underneath the desk quivering because of all the stressed out people who are "trying to be nice."

Mr. Word Verification has "Teligun". But you can't telligun much, can you?

Samantha said...

Fascinating place to work..and very cool that your guys have your back.

messymimi said...

That is a nice thing to know, Cat. Law enforcement people look out for each other, they have to.

These things may become routine to you, if you work there, but it sounds like there's just enough of the unusual to keep everyone from completely zoning out.

As for the neighbor sneaking in and replacing appliances, maybe that's the same person sneaking into my house and leaving dirty dishes that belong to "nobody" every night at my place...;)

Jess said...

Sounds like a VERY interesting place to work. And I love the previous comment about someone sneaking dirty dishes into their house!