Unfortunately in the news some Maryland County police are in trouble for beating a student after a University of Maryland vs. Duke game. Not cool. But it reminds me of an earlier day with the Maryland State Police. As my blog readers may know I came out of the Maryland State Police Academy in 1977. I was assigned to the Salisbury Barrack.
One evening a "bull" session broke out in the radio room where the desk Sergeant was talking about the "good old days". The Sergeant was a rather rotund fellow, old, with bright red hair. He began talking about how the MSP was heavily involved in riot control at the University of Maryland during student protests of the Vietnam War. There was a lot of national TV coverage of student protests across the country. The Sergeant was sitting back in his chair talking about all of the tear gas, the number of arrests that were made, the amount of damage that was done, etc.. I had only been at the Barrack for several months and I chimed in "Yeah that was really something."
The Sergeant swung his gaze to me and said, "What are you talking about Boy, you weren't there. You just got out of the Academy."
"Oh I was there sir."
"Bullshit."
"No really I was. And I really thought a lot of you guys too. All that water we poured off of the student government building on yours heads, the water balloons we threw at you . . . and you guys NEVER got mad. In fact I still remember some Troopers rendering first aid to some of the students who had gotten hurt during some inter-student fighting . . ."
The Sergeant's face began to turn as red as his hair. He was not amused in the least. I was kidding of course, the riots at the University of Maryland happened when I was in Junior High School. But I never let on that I was kidding. I looked him right in the eye as he rose slowly from his chair and left the room. He was close to retirement at that time. And you know, he never spoke to me again unless he had to.
Yeah those were the good old days.
Saturday, April 17, 2010
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Dr. David Banner
People say that a person can do anything if they put their mind to it. But what happens when the mind is damaged?
"Salisbury E21", came the radio call to the unmarked unit that I was riding in.
"E21 Salisbury go ahead"
I did not answer the radio call from the Salisbury Barrack, the Trooper First Class who was training me did. I was driving - he was taking notes on my performance or lack there of.
"E21 back up a Sheriff's Deputy on U.S. Rt 50 just west of the Salisbury City line. He was transporting a mental patient and the subject jumped from the car and has barricaded himself in a house there."
"10-4 Salisbury"
As we pulled into a driveway next to the white Wicomico County Sheriff's Deputy car, I could see several deputies gathered on the front porch. They did not look very happy.
"Hi Lee," one of the Deputies said to my trainer.
Lee Fitzgerald, tall, lean, spotless appearance. A consummate professional. All business when it was time for business.
"You alright Gary?" Lee asked.
"Yeah, I'm OK. I was taking this guy to a hospital when he kicked out the side window of my car and jumped out. I was goin' 'bout 50 when he jumped. By the time I got stopped I saw him run across the yard and jump thru this window into the house."
It was a one story house about 20' by 20'. It was now missing all the glass from one window.
"Is this the guy's house?" Lee asked.
"No he lives in town," said the Deputy.
"What's wrong with him?" asked Lee.
"All I know is he was in Korea and got shell shocked. I was taking him to the hospital because his family caint control him."
"Well," Lee said "Let's go in and get him. I'll try to talk to him."
Five of us went in the front door, two Troopers & three Deputies while two Deputies watched the outside corners of the house. I remember thinking that we didn't need all of these men to get one poor sick guy.
The house was old and in disrepair. Four rooms total that I could see. We found the man standing in a back room his back to the wall shifting his weight from right foot to left. He was about six feet tall but very thin and frail looking. He was staring toward us as we came in the door but not at us. His gaze was focused at some far away place not in the room. Lee started to talk to him calmly. He asked him if he was hurt. The man didn't answer. Lee asked him his name, he didn't answer. No matter what Lee said the man continued to sway back and forth and stare. I felt the hair on the back of my neck raise. Something was definitely wrong here and I wasn't exactly sure what was going to happen. Lee was talking to the man as if he was in control but without warning all control was lost.
Lee gently touched the mans arm and said "Come on sir let's go outside."
Lee's body slammed against the far wall causing books, dust and glassware to drop to the floor. Angling for a position I was unable to get around the Deputies to find a grip on the man. Two Deputies were thrown to the floor as the third one and I rushed in and tackled the man. We caught him off guard and knocked him to the floor. I was on his back in a split second and the Deputy put all of his weight on top of me.
"Now," I thought "we have him."
"Get the cuffs on him Lee!" I shouted. "We'll hold him down."
Lee got up off of the floor and started toward me, with out making a sound the man that I was "holding down" did a push up with both me and the Deputy on his back. I pushed one of his arms outward and we slumped to the floor. Lee put most of his weight onto the human pile while he grappled for one of the mans wrists. The man again did an effortless push up with all of us on his back, but this time he made it to his feet with me still clinging to his back, my arm around his neck and my feet dangling in the air. A wall of four men hit the man running and got him back to the floor. Two men on each arm and me on his back. After a lot of effort and an equal amount of cussing it took the five of us to control the man enough to get handcuffs on him behind his back. Once he was restrained Lee continued to talk to him and he seemed to calm down. However at this point nothing was left to chance. The Deputies had also put shackles on his ankles and we wrapped him in a blanket to restrict his thrashing. Through all of this I am convinced that the man did not know that we were there.
I have seen many people with that same stare since then. Most were not caused by some emotional trauma, but were self induced by some narcotic. The result has usually been the same. Decreased mental capacity = increased physical capacity = extreme danger.
Dr. Banner was on the right track. If man could only tap into those hidden powers that we all have and use them for good. Gamma radiation and/or narcotics are not the way to go though . . .
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
A St. Patrick's Day Toast
This St. Patrick's Day I was remembering my friend Mike.
I graduated from Pikesville University in 1977 with a degree in naivete. I was sent to Salisbury, in Wicomico County on Maryland's Eastern Shore to serve and protect the public. That's where I met Mike. Mike was a well seasoned Trooper with Maryland's Finest. Irish to the bone, he had served his country in Vietnam and was now serving the citizens of his State. Always a crooked smile on his face and sometimes a cigarette on his lips. There were deep laugh lines cut into the skin around his eyes. For some reason Mike took to me right away. I was not experienced in dealing with criminals or the ugly things that people do. Mike had seen it all.
One day early in my career at the scene of a horrific accident with several deaths and many injured Mike put his hand on my shoulder and said "Come on shit-for-brains."
He jumped in and saved one life and we bandaged up the rest as best we could until ambulance personnel arrived on the scene. Of course the nickname stuck. Nearly 20 years after we worked together whenever Mike would see me across a room or telephone call he would always shout "HEY shit-for-brains!"
At times in the early days I felt like a little puppy following him around.
I can only remember Mike loosing his temper once. He and I had been sent to a domestic argument (police talk for a husband and wife fighting). Hubby had picked up his four year old daughter and thrown her down on a coffee table with enough force that the table had broken in half. The child was crying when we arrived, the wife was bleeding from a head wound caused by Hubby pushing her through stairway spindles. Mike had the child in his arms and escorting the wife out to his car left me alone with Hubby to get the information needed for the report. I was trying to get Hubby's name, but Hubby insisted that his name was "Santa Claus".
Hubby then made another bad decision. He jumped up and attacked me. We ended up on the floor as I attempted to wrestle him into handcuffs. Mike suddenly appeared in the doorway red in the face, rage in his eyes. He was screaming "You want to kill someone kill me!"
I found myself in between Mike and Hubby. The wrestling match had turned into a fist fight and the Marquis of Queensbury rules were not being observed. I somehow managed to get the cuffs on Hubby just as two other Troopers came in the door. Mike was still enraged and trying everything he could to get at the man. As the two Troopers took the now bloodied Hubby out the door one on each arm, it took every ounce of strength that I had to hold and calm Mike down.
"MIKE! What's got into you? CALM DOWN!"
Panting heavily and slowly Mike looked down realizing what had happened tears forming in his eyes. "When I got the little girl out to the car she looked me in the eye and said Daddy said he is going to kill me. I heard you fighting with him - I don't know - I just lost it."
I put my hand on his shoulder and said "Come on ya crazy Mick."
That nickname stuck too. "Shit-for-brains" and "Mick" spent alot of time together. Working shift work. Surf fishing on Assateague Island. Tossing back more than a few at Oriole baseball games. Mike saved my life a couple of times. He saved countless other lives during both of his tours of duty, one in Vietnam and one in Maryland. He was always there and never asked for anything. He was never recognized by the Department for most of the lives that he saved. He didn't want recognition.
Many years later I was working as shift commander at the Frederick Barrack on Maryland's Western Shore. A week before that I had run into Mike in Jessup, MD and spent a minute in a head lock having my head rubbed hard by Mike's knuckles. Mike was retired now but he had not changed a bit. A teletype came into the Frederick Barrack saying that "We regret to inform you of the death of retired TFC Michael Patrick Mulvey, killed in a traffic accident on his motorcycle on todays date. Funeral arrangements will be forthcoming."
Some things hit you harder than others. Mike's death hit everyone hard. It appeared as though the entire Eastern Shore turned out to say goodbye to Mike. A second funeral was held in his hometown of Cumberland, MD with a like number of people. I must have said thanks to Mike a thousand times, but I never got to say goodbye.
Here's to you Mike, I sure do miss you.
Shit-for-brains
I graduated from Pikesville University in 1977 with a degree in naivete. I was sent to Salisbury, in Wicomico County on Maryland's Eastern Shore to serve and protect the public. That's where I met Mike. Mike was a well seasoned Trooper with Maryland's Finest. Irish to the bone, he had served his country in Vietnam and was now serving the citizens of his State. Always a crooked smile on his face and sometimes a cigarette on his lips. There were deep laugh lines cut into the skin around his eyes. For some reason Mike took to me right away. I was not experienced in dealing with criminals or the ugly things that people do. Mike had seen it all.
One day early in my career at the scene of a horrific accident with several deaths and many injured Mike put his hand on my shoulder and said "Come on shit-for-brains."
He jumped in and saved one life and we bandaged up the rest as best we could until ambulance personnel arrived on the scene. Of course the nickname stuck. Nearly 20 years after we worked together whenever Mike would see me across a room or telephone call he would always shout "HEY shit-for-brains!"
At times in the early days I felt like a little puppy following him around.
I can only remember Mike loosing his temper once. He and I had been sent to a domestic argument (police talk for a husband and wife fighting). Hubby had picked up his four year old daughter and thrown her down on a coffee table with enough force that the table had broken in half. The child was crying when we arrived, the wife was bleeding from a head wound caused by Hubby pushing her through stairway spindles. Mike had the child in his arms and escorting the wife out to his car left me alone with Hubby to get the information needed for the report. I was trying to get Hubby's name, but Hubby insisted that his name was "Santa Claus".
Hubby then made another bad decision. He jumped up and attacked me. We ended up on the floor as I attempted to wrestle him into handcuffs. Mike suddenly appeared in the doorway red in the face, rage in his eyes. He was screaming "You want to kill someone kill me!"
I found myself in between Mike and Hubby. The wrestling match had turned into a fist fight and the Marquis of Queensbury rules were not being observed. I somehow managed to get the cuffs on Hubby just as two other Troopers came in the door. Mike was still enraged and trying everything he could to get at the man. As the two Troopers took the now bloodied Hubby out the door one on each arm, it took every ounce of strength that I had to hold and calm Mike down.
"MIKE! What's got into you? CALM DOWN!"
Panting heavily and slowly Mike looked down realizing what had happened tears forming in his eyes. "When I got the little girl out to the car she looked me in the eye and said Daddy said he is going to kill me. I heard you fighting with him - I don't know - I just lost it."
I put my hand on his shoulder and said "Come on ya crazy Mick."
That nickname stuck too. "Shit-for-brains" and "Mick" spent alot of time together. Working shift work. Surf fishing on Assateague Island. Tossing back more than a few at Oriole baseball games. Mike saved my life a couple of times. He saved countless other lives during both of his tours of duty, one in Vietnam and one in Maryland. He was always there and never asked for anything. He was never recognized by the Department for most of the lives that he saved. He didn't want recognition.
Many years later I was working as shift commander at the Frederick Barrack on Maryland's Western Shore. A week before that I had run into Mike in Jessup, MD and spent a minute in a head lock having my head rubbed hard by Mike's knuckles. Mike was retired now but he had not changed a bit. A teletype came into the Frederick Barrack saying that "We regret to inform you of the death of retired TFC Michael Patrick Mulvey, killed in a traffic accident on his motorcycle on todays date. Funeral arrangements will be forthcoming."
Some things hit you harder than others. Mike's death hit everyone hard. It appeared as though the entire Eastern Shore turned out to say goodbye to Mike. A second funeral was held in his hometown of Cumberland, MD with a like number of people. I must have said thanks to Mike a thousand times, but I never got to say goodbye.
Here's to you Mike, I sure do miss you.
Shit-for-brains
Monday, March 16, 2009
It's 2009 & we've immediately jumped into this "Blog" thing
Who is Dr. Tackleberry?
Dr. Tackleberry was born out of a common name used in America today. Not Dr. Tackleberry the name itself, because I don't know anyone named Dr. Tackleberry. But my own given name is apparently so common that I can't use it for a Gmail account, IM account, Yahoo account, or any other web based system. You know at the beginning of a web based system when it says "easy set up, you'll be blogging in minutes!"? Well that didn't work for me so I had to invent a name. I don't like the "suggestions" for user names that computer systems come up with.
"Tackleberry" was a character in the Police Academy movies. I have a police back ground and I enjoy watching a ficticious character like Tackleberry do the things that he does.
"Dr."? Tackleberry is no doctor to be sure. First see paragraph one above. Secondly I live in Maryland (MD) & I get a kick out of people who see my name and address and think I'm a doctor. Read it again people, read it again. Ever see a doctor with a zip code after his name?
Anyway, a blogging we will go . . .
Dr. Tackleberry was born out of a common name used in America today. Not Dr. Tackleberry the name itself, because I don't know anyone named Dr. Tackleberry. But my own given name is apparently so common that I can't use it for a Gmail account, IM account, Yahoo account, or any other web based system. You know at the beginning of a web based system when it says "easy set up, you'll be blogging in minutes!"? Well that didn't work for me so I had to invent a name. I don't like the "suggestions" for user names that computer systems come up with.
"Tackleberry" was a character in the Police Academy movies. I have a police back ground and I enjoy watching a ficticious character like Tackleberry do the things that he does.
"Dr."? Tackleberry is no doctor to be sure. First see paragraph one above. Secondly I live in Maryland (MD) & I get a kick out of people who see my name and address and think I'm a doctor. Read it again people, read it again. Ever see a doctor with a zip code after his name?
Anyway, a blogging we will go . . .
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