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    Tales from the Street: Stories of Police Work
    Tales from the Street: Stories of Police Work
    Tales from the Street: Stories of Police Work
    Ebook115 pages1 hour

    Tales from the Street: Stories of Police Work

    By Christopher Tipton

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    About this ebook

    A collection of stories, funny, stupid, tragic, and poignant; as told by the police officers, paramedics, and lawyers who experienced them first hand. The elderly woman who just lost her husband, the brain-wave people, hoarders, and hidden dead mothers. Police safety lessons, Lyme disease caused murder-suicide, funny court stories, dogs, and other furry critters. Even Abraham Lincoln makes a guest appearance.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherChristopher Tipton
    Release dateMay 23, 2012
    ISBN9781476312903
    Tales from the Street: Stories of Police Work
    Author

    Christopher Tipton

    Chris served six-years on active duty in the U.S. Marine Corps, one-year as a Marine Reservist, and 14-years in the Air National Guard, retiring with 21-years total service. He served in Vietnam and Desert Storm. As a civilian, Chris was a paramedic, a federal police officer, then a municipal police officer for a suburb of Detroit, Michigan. He is retired with 25-years of law enforcement experience. Chris now lives in Florida with his youngest daughter, son, and two short-haired Chihuahuas, while his oldest daughter serves in the U.S. Air Force. Chris holds an MBA and an MA.

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      Book preview

      Tales from the Street - Christopher Tipton

      Preface

      Tales from the Street is a collection of vignettes and short stories collected from the experiences of both the editor and contributors. Some names, places, and departments have been disguised to protect the guilty and the innocent. These stories come from police officers, paramedics, attorneys, and court reporters who deal with this nonsense, silliness, and poignancy on a daily basis. All contributors have requested anonymity.

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

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

      2. You accept that ticket as legit ID.

      3. Mother Fucker is a simple greeting, not an insult.

      4. You think you’re bi-lingual because you can speak and understand Ebonics in addition to English.

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

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

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

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

      9. You’re sent to an address, you know who lives there, and you decide to lock them up before you even arrive.

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

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

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

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

      14. You never stand in front of a door even if you’re knocking on your mom’s door.

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

      2. The Asshole

      I was on afternoon shift and we were all in traffic court early one afternoon before our shift started. Afternoon shift was full of younger, aggressive police officers who arrested or wrote tickets to damned near anything that moved in violation of state statute or city ordinance. Yes, I was proud to be on afternoon shift.

      One of the guys I worked with was originally from deep Alabama. After he served with the Army in Vietnam, he came to Detroit to work in a car factory, and then got a job as a cop. His Southern accent had moderated over the years, but not by much. He was also famous on the department as probably the wittiest, fastest, comeback artist on the force. He was a really good cop too. I’ll call him Bob, to protect the innocent (ha ha).

      Bob had written a ticket to somebody who was obviously contesting it. I missed Bob’s initial testimony, which would have been a formal recitation anyway, and now the defendant was having his say. The defendant’s whole defense essentially revolved around his claim that Bob had called him an asshole during the traffic stop. The defendant demanded, DEMANDED, an apology and a dismissal.

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

      The judge said, Well, officer. I think you should apologize, don’t you?

      Bob said, Yes, Your Honor. At which point Bob turned, perfectly straight-faced, looked the defendant right in the eye, and with that slow, deep Southern accent booming through the dead silent courtroom said, A’hm sorry yore an asshole.

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

      The defendant was spluttering, That’s, that’s, that’s not an apology!

      The judge, wiping away tears, said, I think that is the entire apology you’re going to get today. Guilty. $75 fine. Pay the clerk.

      The judge had to take a couple of minutes recess in chambers to get over the giggles after that one. For a few weeks, every time the judge saw Bob, he would start to laugh all over again.

      Yep, I was really proud to be on afternoon shift.

      3. The Old Italian Lady

      Early fall in Michigan, even in the city, can be very pleasant and it was a tourist bureau kind of nice, sunny, cool, early fall Sunday morning on day shift, until... 3-6, go to 16417 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 on in years.

      I met the fire department paramedics who responded on an elderly man not breathing. They weren’t initially sure of the problem as the old Italian woman who called 911, could hardly speak English. Double great. My spoken Italian was pathetic despite growing up around Italians and a military sponsored trip to Italy.

      I went into the bedroom with the medics and we viewed the body for signs of foul play, etc. There were none, of course, but I had to check by law. He was pretty much in full rigor mortis so he’d been dead for a number of hours. Luckily, he was lying on his back in a fairly normal position so his wife wouldn’t have to keep seeing him in some grotesque, twisted position. We covered him up nicely and I went to talk to the lady while the firemen packed their gear, politely gave their condolences (you always did that in these bedroom communities), and left.

      The old lady was 92-years old and her husband was 97. He had obviously died peacefully in his sleep and Mama didn’t notice until she tried to wake him for church. Papa still drove. As it turned out, Papa had done everything except cook, keep house, and raise babies. They had been married in Italy when she was just 14 and he was 19. Married for 78-years. Wow. Mama didn’t know how to do anything else, although I’d have bet she was the best at what she did know how to do. Looking around at the house it was obvious she was still vigorous. The place was so clean doctors could do surgery in there.

      The old couple had three children, two boys and 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

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