Fathers Day 2012

(c) James J Alonzo

Today, my daughter Sherri took me to lunch for Father's day. It was a great day, since I don't see enough of her. The conversation was warm, enlightening, and I was proud to see the woman my daughter has grown into. Her poise, wisdom, and inner strength.

This is Father’s Day weekend. We honor men who are father’s whether good or bad. A good father guides his household to success while a poor one guides his family to destruction.

Ben Franklin, one of the country’s founding fathers said, “A father’s a treasure; a brother’s a comfort; a friend is both.  Dare I say that a great father is a treasure, a comfort and a friend.

Father’s Day often finds me thinking about my step dad. Because of his cruelty we were never close but I did learn a lot about life through him. He was strong, hard, uncompasionate provider, and UNFORTUNATELY a role model to my 1/2 brother, his son. 

I and my step father would not have agreed on many things on child rearing, and disagree on one important fact. My stepfather was not a believer in children being people. "seen but not heard" was his belief.

I have an uncle Larry, that became my role model, as a father, and buddy to his children. I knew that I would try to be a good father like my uncle.  

Fathers have the power to give a good impression or a bad impression of what a father should be. If their father was dictatorial, autocratic, and a harsh disciplinarian, then Fatherhood is viewed in the same way causing people to wonder why they should bother with It at all.
 
Those who have a father that treats them with fairness, love, and respect, long for a close relationship with their own children.  

Fathers are destined to be remembered one way or another and only as they parent, can their memory be something to be treasured, a comfort, and a friend. 

Get Out Of My Way Stupid!

GET OUT OF MY WAY STUPID!

(C) James J Alonzo

One night on routine patrol along the Lake Shore at about 3 a. m. Jack and I found a pickup truck on the beach, near a well known night club called "Micky Rats".

"Well, let's take a look and see if there is a driver and passenger," Jack said.

 The truck had been rolled over and had a lot of damage to it. It was upside down, however, no bodies, no one was around it, and the keys were still in the ignition. 

Our department's policy on one vehicle accidents like this, especially at night when we would have to call someone out, was that we would work the accident, do an accident investigation, only if a driver was present at the scene. We notified radio of the situation, description, and location. The day shift can handle this.   

"I bet this clown calls in that his truck was stolen after he's sobered up enough to figure out his story." said Jack.

"Jack you are so distrusting!" I said sarcastically, "Such little faith in your fellow man. You need to change your evil ways.

We were sure the owner of the truck would call and report it as being stolen. It was not unusual for someone to get drunk, have an accident then try to report their vehicle as being stolen.

"West five", crackled the radio, "see the owner, a Mr. Paul Crowly, on stolen pickup truck accident, at parking lot of Micky Rats."

 Sure enough, in a few minutes the dispatcher notified us that they had the owner of the truck on the phone reporting it as stolen.

"Radio, Roger that, eta five minutes."

After we got to the site, it wasn't but a couple of minutes he showed up. He had not even bothered changing clothes. He was wet and covered with sand from head to toe, also very highly intoxicated.

We started asking him questions,

"Where was your truck when it was stolen?" I asked, "and when? 

"How'd you get wet?" Jack piped in, not giving him a chance to answer, "and how come you have beach sand all over you?"

 He became very nervous and at this point we asked him,

"Do you realize if you had been driving," I said, " you could be charged with filing a false police report?"

"Just forget the whole thing if you don't believe me." he shouted with hostility, as he moved to go around me to walk off. 

I looked at Jack, he smiled and moved away from the patrol vehicle, telling me with body language, that He was going to handle this.

Jack blocked the perp's path with his 6'4" 280 pound body and put his hand against the perp's chest to stop him from leaving and told him,

"You're going to wait because we're not finish Investigating this! In fact I think you were the driver!"

The perp slapped Jack's hand away and said,

"Get out of my way, Stupid!"

The perp quickly found that he had just done two things which you just don't do to Police Officers at 3 a.m., or any other time for that matter. Those two things were slap at them and call them names.

He also found out why this "'stupid' Officer" was nicknamed "The Choker." Jack reached out with his right hand and grabbed the perp by the throat.  Jack over the years, had found this to be an effective hold early in his career and had used it a lot.

Jack found out that men do exactly what you want them to do, if you control their breathing, it does not matter how big or bad you are, you've got to have air to fight.

The perp hadn't counted on was the quick reaction of Jack who arrested the perp for resisting arrest, filing a false report, and disorderly conduct and put him in the patrol car.

While I went to close the door he yelled, "I want to talk to whoever is in charge!" I told him he was talking to the person who was in charge. At that point he calmed down and asked, "Would it help if I apologized?"

It didn't help, we were finished, we took him to jail.

******

During the period of our time as partners, Jack and I would lecture each other on things we felt the other was doing wrong. My pet peeve was Jack was a big strong man, and and expert at brute force. I on the other hand, standing at  5'10", and 160 lbs. used an art that I was well trained in, assorted martial arts, Ju Jit Su,  Krav Magna, and Dim Mak*

The reader should keep in mind that this period I am wetting about is the 1970s into the 1980s, there was no such thing as a TASER(R).

One night on routine patrol, we got a radio call,

"FIVE WEST, SEE THE NEIGHBOR, 183 MILL STREET, VILLAGE ANGOLA, INTOXICATED WOMAN THROWING ROCKS AT HOUSES AND PASSING VEHICLES."

"Roger, 183 Mill Street." I responded.

"This should be simple enough," Jack said with a smile, Some crazy drunk broad."

"Try not to choke her or sit on her." I said laughing.

When we arrived, it wasn't hard to find the crazy lady, we spotted her immediately since she was in the process of throwing a rocks at our patrol vehicle!

"Judas Priest!" I shouted, "this broad is crazy!" As another rock bounced off my door.

After we exited the patrol vehicle we had to dodge more rocks, Jack shouting out for her to stop, charged her, tackling her. There was a crowd of people outside watching. 

"You fucking pig! Get off me!" The crazy lady shouted as she was being hand cuffed by Jack.

She was dark haired, 5'3",  about 110 lbs., wearing heavy construction type boots, blue jeans, and T-shirt. 

 "Shit pig, they're too tight!" she complained of the handcuffs being behind her back.

"Don't worry," I said, "The handcuffs are new but they'll stretch in time."

"Fuck you pig!"

"Thank you but I'll have to decline."

After Jack got the perp on her feet, she started kicking Jack's legs and tried to kick him in the balls. Jack, holding her arm, extended his muscled arm so her kicks couldn't reach him. He knew there was a crowd so he had to be careful that he didn't look like police brutality. 

"You need help getting her in the car?" I asked.

"No!," Jack replied impatiently, "I don't need your damn help with this broad!" 

He pulled her to the rear door of the squad car, and as he opened the door, she kicked him again in the shins!    

"Shit!" Jack yelled, "Stop it!" but she continued kicking his shin!

He tried to push her into the back seat, by placing his big meaty hand on her stomach and pushing, but she arched her back, and refused to sit into the back seat, shouting,

"No I won't!"

"Just get in the car lady!"

When Jack stop pushing she would kick him in the shins again with those construction boots!

"Shit lady! Quick kicking!"

Leaning against the trunk of the squad car, I was laughing every time Jack got kicked.

"You need help?" I asked, laughing.

"Yeah, smart ass,!" Jack said to me, "go ahead show me!" 

Jack back away from the kicking lady, 

"She's all yours Mr, Karate man!" Jack pissed, said sarcastically.

"Okay Jack," holding up my right index finger in the air, "One finger, just one finger, and she will go in the car willingly."

"Show me, don't talk, just show me!" Jack taunted.

I walked up to the kicking lady, still holding my right index finger up in the air,

"You going to get in the car?"

"No you fucking idiot!" and then kicked me in the shins.

I quickly took my index finger and pushed it into her neck just above her sternum between the sternoclavicular points of her clavicle. This is call the jugular notch, which has a bundle of nerves located there.

"Awk!" she choked at the painful pressure, and it force her to get relief by backing into the rear seat and sitting down, where I immediately fastened her seat belt to secure her. Shutting the door I smiled at Jack and walked past him, with my index finger in the air!

"One finger, just one finger Jack."

********* 

*Dim mak (death touch)  is an ancient martial art that consists of striking certain points on the body to cause illness or death. The points are usually called dim mak points, but they are also referred to as vital points and pressure points. The majority of these points correspond to the same locations as acupuncture points. Dim mak is an extremely dangerous martial art, which can cause a great deal of damage to the human body. Applying pre sure with fingers can cause extreme pain. Most Dim Mak specialists use finger strengthening techniques like push ups on your fingers tips,  punching bag strikes with your finger tips, etc. 

*Jujutsu, martial art from Japan consisting of grappling and striking techniques

Death of Our Personal History

Death of a Our Personal History

(C) James J Alonzo

Recently my nephew Doug told me a man named Dwayne died. Dwayne was a part of his life. This man was his mother’s boyfriend for many years, then they (his mother and boyfriend) finally split. To my nephew the man was a cruel man. He said to me,

“Dwayne died," Doug said very softly, "Because I hated him all this time, I should feel happy, but actually I feel a little sad.“

“You feel sad," I said, " because Dwayne, good or bad, was a part of your past. When a part of your past dies, there is a loss, because that person was a part of you, whether you liked him, loved him, or not. You will even mourn in a strange way. Regardless of how you feel or how he treated you, he was a contributor, of what makes you who you are now.”

I should not care," Doug said.

“When a person of your past dies," I said, " whether he be a friend, foe, parent, sibling, or some connection to your past, the world changes in a heartbeat. Oftentimes when such a loss occurs, others fail to recognize that the surviving person faces emotional battles on many fronts while working through the death. Largely ignored, survivors of the past are often referred to as the “forgotten mourners.”

Within this group of survivors is one that is unique—the adult survivor who lives away from home and is mourning the death of person of their past. In the case of an adult survivor, attention and words of comfort are usually aimed at the parents, spouse, and children, and siblings, not the survivors, who may have been out of touch with the deceased.

The Loss of History

Each family has its own special history and the shared bonds that are a part of that history. When a sibling dies, the bonds are shattered, and the history forever has a void that cannot be filled.

As they grow, children develop certain characteristics and talents. Brothers and sisters tend to complement each other by developing a balance of interests in different areas. However, surviving siblings will need to redefine their roles in the absence of this relationship.

The Loss of Future

When a sibling dies, all future special occasions will be forever changed. There will be no more shared birthday celebrations, anniversaries, or holidays. There will be no telephone calls telling of the birth of a new nephew or niece. The sharing of life’s unique and special events will never again take place.

What Adult Siblings May Expect

Survivor guilt is normal. Siblings usually have a relationship where they seek to protect each other. Despite the physical distance that may separate them as adults, this need to have provided protection weighs heavily in the aftermath of the loss.

Guilt about how the relationship was maintained is common. So often as adults, the sibling relationship has changed from younger years.. Each travels a separate path, and sometimes communication is lacking and ambivalent feelings about maintaining the relationship surface. No matter how good a relationship may have been, the survivor often believes it should have been better, causing guilt.

Anger over a new role within the family often occurs. A surviving sibling may now be the one expected to care for aging parents, and he or she may have to step into the role of guardian for nieces and nephews. Remaining family members may look to surviving siblings for guidance. All these situations are possible reasons to feel anger over a sibling’s death.

Fear of mortality

When a brother or sister dies, it is natural for the surviving sibling or siblings to look at their own lives and question how many years they have left, and what their deaths would do to their family. Surviving siblings may find positive changes within their lives. These may include greater emotional strength, increased independence, and a soul-searching reexamination of religious beliefs. Some survivors feel the need to make a change in their life’s work, such as becoming a therapist, or working to effect a change in the area that took the life of the sibling.

Even when a sibling has died, a connection still remains. Surviving brothers and sisters think about them; talk about them; remember them at special times such as birthdays, holidays, and death dates; and may create a memorial of some type. This connection with the sibling who died does not have to be given up to move forward in life.

Siblings may be ambivalent about their relationships in life, but in death the power of their bond strangles the surviving heart. Death reminds us that we are part of the same river, the same flow from the same source, rushing towards the same destiny.
Were you close? Yes, but we didn’t know it then.

Understanding from Others

Society often encourages bereaved individuals to feel guilty for grieving too long. This failure to receive validation of their grief can cause siblings to hide their feelings, causing a type of depression with which they may struggle for many years. If the surviving sibling is married, stress may also be introduced into the spousal relationship. Individuals grieve differently, and the spouse may be bewildered and even unsympathetic that this loss is causing so much sorrow in their own family. This situation may provoke comments such as,

“Why are you so upset? You haven’t been close to your family for years.” While this may sound reasonable, the emotions of grief and mourning are seldom reasonable—or even rational. Spouses may need to be told how they can be supportive. One woman simply asked her husband for a hug whenever she felt especially sad about the death of her sister.

Senior Citizens Who Lose a Sibling

When the sibling of a senior citizen dies, often those around this person feel that it is more normal for people to die as they age, and so there is no need to provide comfort or even acknowledge the death. In reality, whether the sibling who died is nine or ninety, the loss still wounds the heart. Oftentimes with senior citizen grief, the death of a sibling is compounded by the fact that the spouse and others important to them in their lives have preceded the sibling in death, leaving a void for feedback, comfort, and remembrance. One’s own mortality is often questioned.

Finding Support

Many siblings find help by talking with others about their brother or sister. However, even good friends can quickly become uncomfortable with the subject, often at just the point when their support is most needed. Often, simply finding another bereaved sibling with whom to share concerns and feelings provides a path toward healing. Adult siblings may be living in areas where no one knew their deceased brother or sister—or even of their existence. This can be painful at a time when the surviving sibling longs to share memories.

When Parents (or parental figure) Dies

When your parents die, it is said you lose your past; when your spouse dies, you lose your present; and when your child dies, you lose your future. However, when your sibling dies, you lose a part of your past, your present, and your future. Because of this tremendous loss, it is important that everyone work together to ease the path toward healing.

(C) James J Alonzo

Undercover Operation
(tales Of The Lost Patrol)

(C) James J Alonzo

Jack in working for the police department, was a good cop and smart. One day Jack had  
received a tip that Richard Weaver, the owner of a local Deli or convenience store was selling cigarettes and other tobacco products to minors as young as 12 years old. So he forward a report to the Chief, requesting assignment to catch and prosecute this dealer of cigarettes to children.

Jack's Chief called him in to a meeting about Jack's latest report,

"I read your report Jack, and I want to know how you propose to get evidence on this case?"

"Yes sir", Jack replied, "I have a 16 year old girl in mind. Her name is Sherri, I know her parents and she is the sister of one of our dispatchers. She will go in and make buys of cigarettes and even beer."

"Very well, but before we use her I want her interviewed by the State Attorneys Office and get their approval. We need to know that she can sit on the stand, testify in a court of law and get convictions."

"Yes sir," Jack said, " I will coordinate this for you sir."

The big night came. Jack was now in charge of this undercover operation. Jack coordinated with other officers their positions for surveillance. He put a wire on Sherri and sent her in while watching from a closed business across the street where they were able to see and hear the whole conversation.

The plan was to simply send her in and have her buy a pack and leave. Jack and the other cops would go in and make the arrest after she left.

When she went in, looked around, and observe the owner ringing out other customers at the register. Once the store was clear except for Sherri and the owner, Richard Weaver, Sherri approached,

"May I have a pack of Virginia Slims cigarettes?"

"How old are you", asked Richard.

"18."

"Let me see your I D." Richard ordered.

Jack and the other officers that were watching and listening, figured if Richard were going to ID her, he would see that she was not 18, and toss her out.  Much to their surprise, the clerk looked at her license,

"I thought so, you're too young, I can't sell you any smokes."  

He handed her license back and shocked the whole surveillance team when he said

"You can't buy smokes...but do you smoke weed?"

Sherri was on the ball, she immediately answered,

"Yeah, I sure do!"

So Jack and the officers got it on tape, Richard Weaver selling Sherri, 1/4 bag for $ 40.00.

Sherri walked out smiling from ear to ear. The store owner got busted and got a lot tougher sentence than if he simply sold Sherri the smokes.

Undercover Operation

Undercover Operation
(tales Of The Lost Patrol)

(C) James J Alonzo

Jack in working for the police department, was a good cop and smart. One day Jack had  
received a tip that Richard Weaver, the owner of a local Deli or convenience store was selling cigarettes and other tobacco products to minors as young as 12 years old. So he forward a report to the Chief, requesting assignment to catch and prosecute this dealer of cigarettes to children.

Jack's Chief called him in to a meeting about Jack's latest report,

"I read your report Jack, and I want to know how you propose to get evidence on this case?"

"Yes sir", Jack replied, "I have a 16 year old girl in mind. Her name is Sherri, I know her parents and she is the sister of one of our dispatchers. She will go in and make buys of cigarettes and even beer."

"Very well, but before we use her I want her interviewed by the State Attorneys Office and get their approval. We need to know that she can sit on the stand, testify in a court of law and get convictions."

"Yes sir," Jack said, " I will coordinate this for you sir."

The big night came. Jack was now in charge of this undercover operation. Jack coordinated with other officers their positions for surveillance. He put a wire on Sherri and sent her in while watching from a closed business across the street where they were able to see and hear the whole conversation.

The plan was to simply send her in and have her buy a pack and leave. Jack and the other cops would go in and make the arrest after she left.

When she went in, looked around, and observe the owner ringing out other customers at the register. Once the store was clear except for Sherri and the owner, Richard Weaver, Sherri approached,

"May I have a pack of Virginia Slims cigarettes?"

"How old are you", asked Richard.

"18."

"Let me see your I D." Richard ordered.

Jack and the other officers that were watching and listening, figured if Richard were going to ID her, he would see that she was not 18, and toss her out.  Much to their surprise, the clerk looked at her license,

"I thought so, you're too young, I can't sell you any smokes."  

He handed her license back and shocked the whole surveillance team when he said

"You can't buy smokes...but do you smoke weed?"

Sherri was on the ball, she immediately answered,

"Yeah, I sure do!"

So Jack and the officers got it on tape, Richard Weaver selling Sherri, 1/4 bag for $ 40.00.

Sherri walked out smiling from ear to ear. The store owner got busted and got a lot tougher sentence than if he simply sold Sherri the smokes.

Seeing Eye What???

Seeing Eye What!

(C) James J Alonzo

At 3 AM, One warm summer evening, Jack, my partner was driving the patrol vehicle and I was riding shotgun. As we were driving down route 5 in Evans, New York, we came upon a mustang convertible, top down enjoying the summer breeze. However the driver was driving erratically, staying on the right side of the road, but drifting side to side of the highway, so we assumed this may be a DWI, 'driving while intoxicated' bust.

We followed him to see if this was just a fluke, but we were right, however there was an oddity, 

"Jack, what's that on his left shoulder?" I asked

"Shit, I don't know." Jack responded, and hit lights and siren. "It looks like some kind of a hat?"

The driver increased his speed, and because of the speed increase, more defined erratic driving. As we got closer, I could see the driver was wearing one of the baseball caps with the bill facing the read of the car, and next to his head, 

"It's a bird!" I shouted, 

"Shut up! That's not a bird!"

"I'm telling you, he had a large bird on his shoulder! Maybe he's a pirate!! We never arrested aerate!" 

I love taunting Jack, and we loved haranguing each other and every opportunity. 

"Shut up! A Pirate, you're an idiot!"

As the driver finally slowed down, and finally pulled over, we pulled behind the Mustang,

"Jim, it's a damn bird on his shoulder!"

"I told you! I bet he's some kind of pirate!" I taunted Jack. 

As we approached the vehicle, I placed myself on the passenger side of the Mustang convertible.  Jack walked up to the driver's side. It was easy to look in the vehicle since the top was down. Looking in the car we saw the driver was wearing very dark glasses, and wearing a live red & blue colored McCaw parrot on his shoulder.*

"WATCH IT PUKEFACE!"  squawked the bird. It spoke real loud.** 

When the bird squawked, it was loud, Jack reactively jumped back, then stepped forward again. **

"Sir were you drinking tonight?"

"No I wasn't drinking!" replied the driver.

"Sir, driver's license, registration, and insurance card." Jack asked the driver extending his hand.

"Watch out Jack!" i was Laughing at Jack's reaction,  "Killer parrot!"

"It's not a killer parrot!" insisted the driver, "it's my seeing eye bird." 

"IT'S THE FUZZ! " squawked the parrot! "PIG! LOOK OUT!"
 
"Shhh! Precious," said the driver to the parrot. Then to Jack, "I don't have a driver's license, because I'm blind. That's why I have a seeing eye parrot."

This was going to be entertaining, because I know Jack doesn't have much patience when he encounters the weird, and this was weird. Besides that, the volume of this parrot's squawks was really loud,  and it kind of hurt your hearing.

"Yeah right!" said Jack sarcastically, looking at me wondering if this was a prank. "I saw you driving, give me your drivers license!"

"EAT SHIT PIG!" squawked  Precious.

I reached over in front of the driver's eyes and moved my hand back and forth,

"Yep, the driver's blind Jack." 

"Of course I'm blind you jerk! I told you that!"

"STUPID PIG! STUPID PIG!" squawked the parrot at me, cracking me up.

"Sir, do you have any identification?" Jack asked pissed. I was laughing at this situation, and Jack's discomfort. 

The driver gave us his Identification, his name was Norman Dehn, and it was true, he was blind and had an Americans with disabilities I D card. 

"Sir, first of all you cannot drive if you are blind, that's the law! Second, you can not drive with a parrot telling YOU how to drive!"

"Why not, it's my seeing eye parrot, and it was trained to sit on my shoulder and warn me about obstacles and such. It speaks up to four word sentences."

"YOU'RE AN ASSHOLE PIG!" squawked the bird as it tried to nip Jack. 

Jack looked at me in his frustration, and with a smile, I hand signaled to Jack that perhaps he should shoot the bird!

"Sir out of the car, and keep that damn bird under control."

"SHUT UP PIG!"  squawked Precious. Damn, that bird was loud! 

I just had to ask, how that bird worked into being made a seeing eye parrot. Mr Dehn explained that he all his life was able to see however, one day his eyes bothering him, his doctor told him he was going blind. He went home to his pet parrot, that he had for a few years, and as alway the bird chatted away with him. Then it struck him, why can't the bird learn to see for him, after all parrots were as smart as dogs, maybe more.

So he trained the bird to tell him if something was in the way, or tell him to turn left or right, and after a year the bird had caught on. The bird had a huge vocabulary, knew words like coffee table, steps, step up, step down, duck, turn left, turn right,  but also sword like a sailor.   

Jack and I watched Mr. Dehn get out of his vehicle, the bird on his shoulder,

"Precious, take me to the car." Mr.Dehn said.

"TURN AROUND! WALK!" squawked the bird.

Mr. Dehn turned and walk towards the patrol vehicle. After Jack opened the door, 

"Get in the car Mr. Dehn."

"DUCK YOU HEAD!" squawked the bird.   

We took him home and didn't charge him. Mr. Dehn called the owner of the car and told them where to pick up the car.

On the way back I was thinking of another idea,

"You know Jack, I was thinking."

"I don't want to hear it!"

"Why don't we start a training academy for seeing eye parrots?"

"No, leave me alone! you and your hair brain ideas, professional mourners, and now seeing eye parrot academy!" 

*******

*Macaws are social birds and need plenty of interaction. They can be very loud.

** A macaw can scream at over 105 dB. (decibals). Macaws are highly intelligent. Some may talk, others may never talk.

Macaws can live 30+ years. For some of the larger macaws 80-100 isn't unheard of.

Intelligence of a 3-8 year old child, emotional range of a 2-3 year old child, may throw tantrums to get attention, great sense of humor, can tease you and other members of your family (including other pets), require a lot of attention, can be very demanding, need to be kept busy with attention, toys, and training, love to chew, love showers, some species are good family birds, some are prone to becoming one-person birds, some are described as clownish, energetic, playful, like to roughhouse, some can be nippy and aggressive, some love to cuddle.

***********************

Attack From The Rear!

Attack On The Rear!

(C) James J Alonzo


I worked as a K-9 officer with Saber was my K-9. He had become a Great partner and between the two of us, we trained each other well. As the Saber was a very good dog, however the hardest part was getting around his independent streak, and his willingness to argue with me, sometime at the most inopportune times.

When the leash was connected to Saber's collar, and I was holding the leash, I commanded. The dog was very obedient and versatile and was very good at tracking, locating drugs, and intimidating crowds. 

However Saber never got over his exuberance to bite. Sometimes when I was cleaning his kennel, saber would sneak up behind me and nip me in the ass. This was his way of telling me, 

"I want to play, so hurry up!"

One night, I got a call, 'burglary in progress', so it was lights and siren all the way. This was another problem with Saber, fir he would stand directly behind my head, and against the screen or cage, he would bark all the way! 

"Will you shut up!" I'd shouted.

Saber would pounce against the cage banging it so hard, my head would rattle,

"BANG!"

I thought he was going to break it!  When Saber and I got there, I opened the rear door once I had the leash in hand. The second patrol vehicle showed up, and I said,

"Take the rear!"

The house was one of those large mansions that had very large chain link connected to poles that stood a mere three feet above the ground. The chain drooped between the poles at a height of two feet, more for decoration than security. I ran up the front door it was secure, but Saber caught a scent that went off to the side, towards the woods.

"Search Saber, search!"

I radio backup and told him the situation, and I heard him coming around the house towards us. I could see tracks in the snow, I took off running, Saber running along side of me. When we got to the chain links, I didn't slow down, and jumped over the lowest part of the hanging chain.

I knew I was in trouble when I felt the rearward jerk and at the same time seeing my feet shoot up to the height of my vision! 

"OOOMFFF!" 

When I jumped the chain links, Saber decided that no one had trained him to jump fences, low hanging chains, short bushes, so he sat his 175 lb body down! As I laid there trying to suck in air from any orifice, into my lungs, I heard the other officer run past us laughing,

"Want me to call back up, or get you a ladder for your dog??"

****
(For two weeks after that incident, I worked with Saber jumping over obstacles. By the time I was finished he had no trouble jumping over four foot high fences, nor climbing ladders)
****

Except for the occasional ass bite, I enjoyed having the dog for back up.  When I made a traffic stop, I would leave the driver's side window open, as well as the cage between the front seat and the kennel - which was in the rear seat area.  That way the dog could respond if I called for him.

One night, I made a traffic stop on a very noisy drunk driver.  The driver was much larger than I and apparently thought he could take me on.  I called for back up, and immediately pushed him up against the auto. Ducking a slow loping right hook, I easily handled him, and had him up against the trunk of his car and had just gotten the handcuffs on.  Suddenly, Saber over excited by the the commotion of the arrest, appeared next to me and bit the drunk driver in the ass.

"Shit!, " shouted the perp.

I didn't say a thing, just looked down at the dog in astonishment! I snapped my arm, hand pointed Saber to our car! The dog, suddenly aware that he was in deep trouble, ran back to the patrol vehicle, jumped in the driver's side window, and into the kennel in the rear seat.

The drunk driver apparently never saw the dog.  When the backup patrol vehicle showed up to transport the perp, the officer placed the drunk driver in the rear seat of the vehicle. 

When I got into our vehicle I was pissed,

" You are a sorry excuse for a police K-9, sneaking up on that perp and biting him? Shame on you!"

Saber, instead of barking at me, just laid down on the seat and didn't make a sound. I drove to the station and on arrival, I left Saber in the vehicle to pout.

"You should feel bad!" I said enjoying Saber's discomfort.

When the officer brought the drunk driver into the jail where the rest of us were waiting, the outraged driver said,

"i want to lodge a complaint! Do you know what this deputy did?"  "He bit me in the ass!"

********

One Hell Of An Emergency

One Hell Of An Emergency
(Tales Of The Lost Patrol)

(C) James J Alonzo

In the police department there are low crime shifts where there is one officer patrols, and during the high crime periods there may be two officers to a car patrol. Otherwise your partner will be in one patrol car and you in another. The idea being that two patrol vehicles can patrol more area, with occasional backup for certain potentially violent calls, like domestics.

I was the second man out and was the "back up car" I was sitting on rt 5 in Evan, NY, our main road just monitoring traffic when my partner Jack flew by, lights and sirens, he was flying!

I drove out behind him and hit my lights and floored the Patrol vehicle. I couldn't believe that I missed a hot call. I tried to radio Jack on our side band for private communication, to see what he was responding too,

"11 west to 12 west, what's your call?" I radioed on the side band, not wanting dispatch to know I had no clue what Jack was doing. 

I still had a little trouble hearing  calls, especially when you shared calls with the Sheriff's Department, Village of Angola police, Evans Police and Hamburg. But I wasn't going to let on that I was in the dark.

I figured if my partner was running wide open, I should too. As we flew over railroad crossings, leaving a path of sparks from the bottoms of our vehicles hitting the ground so hard after being airborne for a few seconds! 

I saw him kill the lights as we entered Jack's neighborhood, so I did the same. Now I was beginning to wondered if there was trouble at his house and worried about his wife and son Jeff!  When my partner turned off his headlights as we turned onto his road…I did the same. 

When he pulled into his drive and I saw him exit the car running, I took off after him drawing my pistol and ran towards the house that he had ran into. The door was open so I raced into the house and surprisingly passed Jack's wife who was just standing there holding the door?

"What the Hell's going on?, I asked, and walked in.

"Jim, relax, Jack had too much Mexican food last night!"* 

*******************************

*Apparently as Jack was patroling the food was getting the better of him. He tried to pass some gas as he was patrolling the farthest point of his area, instead passed a whole lot more!!  Jack was caught by surprise and nearly lost control of the vehicle. 

Henry's Wife, No Big Help

Henry's Wife No Big help
(Tales Of The Lost Patrol)

(C) James J Alonzo

One warm summer starlight night, we clocked a speeder in a red corvette convertable shoot by our position. The alarm on the radar unit exploded with the rapids beep-beep sound, not giving me much warning to grab my cup of coffee before Jack accelerated, and spilled my coffee on my pants!

"Shit Jack!" I shouted as I looked at his grinning face, "Just once, just once, give me a warning!" 

As we pursued the corvette, the convertable top was down, so it was easy to observe  the driver and passenger. Jack asked,

"You recognize the driver?"

"It looks like Henry, the Attica correction officer. Isn't he married to the Japanese lady name Suzy?"

"Yep, that's the one." Jack said, "looks like he bought a new car."

"Well he needs something to make him happy." I laughed, "Marrying Suzy didn't work out so well for him!"

We had known Henry and his wife Suzy from law enforcement picnics and other social get togethers. Henry was a man in his 30's,  5'9", 220 lbs., blonde hair. Henry had met his wife in Okinowa, fell in love, and got married. Suzy, was an attractive petite asian lady, but didn't speak a lick of English till she got to America. That was good for Henry because he had a wife that served his every needs and at anytime he wanted. But once Suzy got to America she slowly learned English, however that was bad for Henry. In Japan the wife waits on her husband hand and foot, but after Suzy started to learned English, her new America lady friends told her this was America, and she had rights! 

That she no longer had to rub his feet as soon as he got home, that wasn't done in America. This was America, you no longer had to bath your husband, make him do it himself!  This was America, and your husband no longer had congigal rights when ever he desired. So Henry's well trained Japanese wife, Suzy, was now canceling 'the waiting on her husband hand and foot' program. Suzy became Americanized, and Henry was permanently grumpy. After all this was America!

Still pursuing Henry; When you are at a dead stop, parked and a vehicle passes your position at well over a 100 MPH, it takes your vehicle a few miles to catch up to the speeding vehicle. If they are traveling at a 100 MPH, you have to exceed 120 MPH or more. 

Pursuing speeders, with Jack driving at 'WARP' speed, dodging obstacles in the road, like other vehicles, can be a hairy dangerous ride! 

When we finally stopped the Corvette, as we approached the vehicle, Jack took the driver's side and I as backup took the passenger side, we found a man that smelled of booze,

"What's the problem officer?" asked Henry sarcastically.

"You were speeding at 100 miles per hour in a 55 zone." said Jack

"No sir, I was going 65", said Henry.

"Oh Henry," interrupted his wife Suzy, "You were going 100 miles an hour!"

Henry snaps his head in his wife's direction,  giving his wife a dirty look!

"Well Henry, you're getting the speeding ticket," Jack added, "and I'm also going to give you a ticket for your broken tail light."

"Broken tail light? I don't have a broken tail light!" said Henry

" Oh Henry, you've known about that tail light for weeks." said Suzy. Henry gives his wife another dirty look!

" Further more," Jack says, " I'm also going to give you a citation for not wearing your seat belt."

"No, that's not right! Henry protested. "I just took it off when you were walking up to the car."

" Oh Henry, you never wear your seat belt. You told me it bothers your digestion!"

"Shut your mouth, woman!" shouts Henry.

"Suzy, does Henry always talk to you this way?" I asked, laughing at Henry's discomfort.

"No, only when he's drunk."

*******************

Officer's Best Friend

Officer's Best Friend
(Tales Of The Lost Patrol)

(C) James J Alonzo

One winter night we were going through the drive-in at the local burger place, when a speeder in a Mustang shot by us! Jack in his typical non-thinking reactive way, took off from 0-60 MPH out of the burger joint driveway to the highway! Jack jerked the police car steering wheel hard, barely avoiding a slide onto the graveled shoulder. The icy December air whistled in his ears, from Jack's open car window, but keeping both hands on the steering wheel, he couldn't do anything about it.

"You planning on getting us killed?" I asked as I fastened my seatbelt, wiping my soda drink off my shirt and pants!" It will be great Christmas gift for our kids and wives to plan a funeral." 

"Jim, my own funeral is never my idea of a good Christmas," Jack muttered, resisting the urge to take one hand off the wheel to roll up the window. "It pisses me off, this joker blew the red light before I had a chance to grab my double-bacon-cheeseburger from the kid at the drive-up window."

"My heart bleeds for you!" I said sarcastically, still wiping off the spilled drink off my uniform, "I'm sending you the cleaning bill!"

The Mustang, (later found to been stolen) now in front of us, careened onto Route 20, narrowly missing a semi-truck in the right lane. 

"Idiot!" Jack accelerated and tried to catch up, his foot pushing hard on the gas as the Mustang swung in front of an SUV. Then a hand flashed out the window of the stolen car.

"All right!" Jack speaking through gritted teeth, "flipping me off is gonna get you in more trouble than you've ever been in before. You're gonna regret,,,,,,,"

The rest of the sentence dangled in the air as movement in the rear-view mirror grabbed Jack's attention. A backup police unit screamed past and slid in front of the Mustang. Jack inched his cruiser forward until he was even with the stolen car, and the driver turned his head in slow motion to look at Jack. A spiteful grin spread over the perp's face as he wiggled his middle finger at Jack again. Then the perp leaned toward the passenger's door of his vehicle.

"Shit Jack, it looks like there is a passenger, maybe a kid!" I said.

Jack frowned and his voice rose. 

"No! Don't tell me the perps got someone in that car with him!" 

I grabbed the mic of the radio to call for an ambulance but before I could even click the mic, a small shape flew out the Mustang's passenger side, bounced on the shoulder and rolled down the gully.

Jack hit the brakes, controlling the skid. 

"Don't let that be a kid!" Jack shouted, "Please lord, let it be a backpack or the guy's stash! Something we can hang him with! But please don't let it be a kid!"

As our cruiser slowed, I finished the call for medical assistance and with gravel flailing beneath the tires, Jack pulled the car onto the shoulder and slammed it into park. Flinging the seat belt off, I threw open the door and we bailed out at a dead run. Pebbles crunched and rolled as we half-ran, half-fell down the embankment, our flashlights casting eerie circles in the dry, prickly weeds.

("Don't let it be a kid! Don't let it be a kid!") My mind sang the refrain as my eyes searched.

"Hello," Jack called out loudly, "Where are you? Are you hurt?" 

The only sound came from the traffic above and the winter wind's eerie voice, echoing through the gully.

Then, softly, a whimper. Not a human cry but more like ...

"A dog," Jack said, temper flaring. "Damn it! He threw a dog out of the car, that son of a bitch!"

Before Jack had a chance to finish expressing his thoughts about a man who would commit such an atrocity, his flashlight caught a flicker of sable and white. A dog resembling a miniature Lassie looked up from twenty feet away, blood dripping down her face.

"A Sheltie," I whispered. "Hold still girl, we're coming." 

We slowly worked our way to the dog. She tried to rise, got onto three legs and toppled over.

My heart felt bad, not only for this dog, but for Jack's own Sheltie, Archie, a dog he'd owned all his adult life and that his toddler son Jeff, they had loved dearly, but had been put down just two days ago because age and a stroke.

The Sheltie whimpered again-this time the tone turning into a soft howl at the end.

Jack knelt by the dog, pulled a handkerchief out of his back pocket, slowly reached over and dabbed the blood on the small dog's head. She flinched at his touch, blinked, then gazed steadfastly at Jack, her tootsie-roll-brown eyes reflected pain, but she didn't try to bite.

Above us red lights blinked in a circle as the ambulance pulled up. Two EMTs ran down the embankment, emergency equipment in hand, but they stopped short when they saw the dog.

"The perp threw his dog out the car!" Jack said. "Can you help her?" 

I could tell Jack was wrestling with his emotions, trying hard to keep the pleading out of his voice.

Moving closer, the tall, blond medic looked at his shorter companion. 

"We're not vets so our knowledge is limited. And we'd risk a lawsuit from the owner of the dog  if we provide help and the dog dies."

Jack knew all about frivolous lawsuits and he gave a snort of disgust, 

"The guy who did this couldn't care if she dies!"  As he spoke, the Sheltie's eyes closed.

"She's in shock," the blond EMT said, watching the dog's chest rise and fall rapidly. Then he stepped toward her, and nodded at Jack

"You didn't see anything; I never touched this dog." 

The EMT knelt next to her, gently running his hands over her body as the other medic picked up Jack's flashlight from the ground and held it high. A small, yellow puddle of light fell on the Sheltie. Jack cradled her head in his lap, controlling the bleeding above the eye, whispering courage. Her tan, button ears flicked at his soothing words.

When the EMT got to the dog's right front leg, he worked more cautiously. 

"It doesn't feel like anything's broken, but she's probably got massive bruising and possible internal injuries. The pad of her foot's torn and bleeding-it looks like the toenails ripped off when she hit the ground." 

The Sheltie winced as he worked his fingers around her white stocking foot, her breathing becoming more rapid.

"If we don't get an IV going and warm her, the shock's going to kill her," he pronounced, laying her foot gently on her other leg. Opening his kit, he pulled out sterile gauze, antiseptic, and antibiotic cream. He cleaned the paw, quickly wrapped it and watched as the other EMT brought down a backboard.

They carried her to the ambulance and loaded her in. Jack handed the EMT his card and said, 

"Call me and give me the vet's name."

The rest of the midnight shift crept by as Jack quietly worried about the dog. The call never came. And there was other bad news; the suspect had evaded arrest.

The next morning-after Jack had been asleep just long enough to dream he was chasing the Mustang again, the phone rang. He fumbled with it, his fogged mind trying to remember how to answer. Finally, on the third try, he hit the talk button.

"Hello?" he said. 

Jack blinking at the clock on the dresser and wondering about the time. The digital numbers showed 9:34-but was it morning or night?

"This is Dr. Kathy Hess's office. Your dog is ready for release." Said an icy voice filled with no-nonsense authority. Jack knew of this woman, she stood 6'4", 250 lbs., red hair worn short like a man, and known to be mean as a snake! She once punched the lights out an owner of a dog, when the owner smack his dog in front of her!   

Jack couldn't believe his ears; Archie was alive? He could come home? Joy surged through Jack and his mind snapped awake-then logic took over and he knew he'd misunderstood. His breath caught as pain seared his heart, feeling as if a splintered arrow had shot through it. Archie was dead. He wasn't coming home alive, because he was buried in the back yard.

"I'm sorry; I've misunderstood," Jack said into the phone. "What did you say?"

Impatience filled this Doctor's voice. "Your dog is ready for release."

Jack grabbed the pillow and slapped it over his eyes, damming the tears.

"I don't have a dog at your hospital."  he said in a strangled voice.

Dr. Hess cleared her throat impatiently. 

"Are you Officer Jack Noel?"

"Yes."

"The EMTs gave us your number and said to call you about the dog."

Jack flung the pillow and leaped out of bed. 

"Oh, that dog! Was she badly injured?

Dr. Hess paused, Jack envisioned her suspicions as she said, 

"The dog's badly bruised, some abrasions, has a small wound over one eye and an sprained paw," Dr. Hess said, "I was told you're an Animal Control Officer? If not, I can't release her to you."

Cop attitude flooded his veins and Jack jabbed a finger in the air, as if poking Dr. Hess in the shoulder.

"That dog is a victim of a crime. I was the officer on the scene and have jurisdiction in this matter. The law requires that the dog be taken into my custody."

("My custody" )  was indeed stretching the truth, but surely the dog would heal faster at his home than at the hospital. Be-sides,  it's not the first time Jack stretched the truth. 

"I'll be down to pick her up in fifteen minutes." Jack stuffed one leg into his jeans while he hung up the phone.

When Jack got to the Eden-Evens Hospital he could hear the chaos of barks and meows at the vet's office, which usually bothered him. Normally Jack felt bad for the confused pets locked in cages, but this time he hardly noticed. When they brought the Sheltie out and she saw him, her ears perked up and her tail wagged, remembering her savior.

Jack could harden his heart against crooks and murders, con artists and thieves, but he could never manage it with kids and animals. 

(Don't even think about falling in love with this dog!",) he thought to himself. But it was too late, he was smitten anyway. As he scooped the Sheltie up, her tan, pointed muzzle pressed against his neck and a soft pink tongue slipped him a quick kiss on his cheek.

"Hi girl," he said, giving her a gentle hug.

Movement caught his eye and Jack looked over to see a huge woman sitting at a sterile looking desk and flipping a pen between her man size fingers.

"That's got to be Dr. Hess," he whispered into the Sheltie's ear. Aloud he said to the woman,

"Send the bill to the Evan's Police Department, attention Chief Archie Jackman!" 

He turned toward the door, but then, at the last minute turned back. 

"By any chance, did this dog have a collar?"

Dr. Hess focused her eyes on Jack like a vulture spotting road kill, sighed heavily, then pulled a multi-colored band off a nearby shelf and disdainfully handed it to him. Jack looked at it and a thought flashed through his mind. Leaving the hospital Jack walked into the reception area.

Dangling the collar in front of the receptionist, and ignoring her stare of irritation, as it deepened to deeper proportions, Jack said, 

"The rabies tag shows this dog was given its shots here. Please check it against your records and write down the owner's name and address for me."

These people at the hospital were so up tight! With lips pulled taut and body moving in wind-down mode, she took the collar and entered the numbers from the tag into the computer, then wrote the information on scrap paper and handed it to Jack. He looked at it, kissed the Sheltie on the head and said,

"We've nailed the sucker!"

Stepping out the door, Jack whispered sweet nothings to the dog. Snow fluttered around them and the bell of a Salvation Army Santa jingled in the distance.

"It's Christmas," Jack said. "I'll be capturing a car thief and filing several charges, including cruelty to animals. You're never going back to that guy who threw you out of the car."

Later at Jack's home, the scent of pine burning in a fireplace drifted past them, the Sheltie sniffed the air with interest. Jack stroked her soft ears and continued, 

"Maybe I'm a little blue because I don't have Archie anymore-" he stopped, took a deep breath to compose himself and looked at the dog's beautiful pointed muzzle. "But, now I have you."

The Sheltie gazed at him with her brown eyes, laid her head on his shoulder, and sighed.

**********************************************

Bear Attack

Bear Attack
(Stories of The Lost Patrol)
(C) James J Alonzo

Working the mid night shift in Evans, New York, is tedious at times, boring, but at other times, adrenaline pumping. It was warm, cloudy dark night

Jack was arguing with some motorist about the speeding ticket Jack just gave him. The motorist was pissed. I could hear the conversation since I stood at the ready on the passenger side of the car for back up.

"You damn cops just give out tickets for no reason! Are you pigs on a quota?" asked the motorist

"Yes sir, we have a quota. Two more tickets and my wife will get a toaster oven." Jack responded, " Now get moving, or I'll arrest you for being stupid!"

Afterward we continued our patrol, and in a short time we got a 'residential burglar alarm' call in this very upper income residential area along the old Lake Shore road. A road that has many multi million dollar mansions belonging to the rich and shameless.

I fastened my seatbelt since Jack was driving. Don't get me wrong, Jack is a great driver, but he has been known for wrecking five patrol cars and one town boat. I actually enjoyed sailing over railroad tracks at over 100 miles and hour, leaving a bed of sparks behind us.

"What's the matter, rookie,?" Jack asked ribbing me, "You being chicken again?"

"Cautious Jack. I survived two years in Viet Nam because I was cautious. You know if you hear a shot, you duck, that sort of thing."   

"Yeah, I remember that burglary in progress call, and you got tangled up in the seatbelt trying to get out of the car!"  Jack laughingly reminded me of an embarrassing incident. 

"Yeah, yeah." I said irritated at Jack's memory. I knew I would not live this bear shooting down!

At the speeds we were traveling it wasn't long before we got there. On our arrival Jack being senior officer, ordered,  

"Get the front!"

Jack took the rear of the house, his preference. Jack finding the rear door open, entered the house. Meanwhile I took the front, trying the front door I found it unlocked. The house is a multi level structure. The ground level is the living room, kitchen, dinning room, assorted bathrooms, and a den. The upper level are bedrooms and bath rooms. The bottom (basement) level are guestrooms, bathrooms, and a "playroom". 

So as we are clearing this house, we have gone through the two upper levels and start on the bottom level. The house is dark and the only light source is our flashlights. 

By the time we get to the bottom level my adrenline is pumping and I can hear my heart in my ears. I get to the bottom of the staircase and make my academy taught tactical turn into the "playroom". As I do, my light catches a huge hairy figure, with out streached arms and in each hand it looked like he had knives like 'Freddie Kruger' as if about to strike and rip me apart! I immediately fire two rounds from my service weapon striking the figure twice center mass. 

Jack, hearing the shots flies into the room! Both our lights hit the figure, and now can clearly see that the figure is a stuffed Brown Bear standing about 12 feet tall, outstreached arms with what seemed like foot long claws!

"Nice shooting rookie!  You just killed a stuffed bear!" Jack said laughing, as he turned on the lights.

"You don't have to tell anyone, you know!," I pleaded, but it was to no avail.  

An hour later, the home owner returns and seeing several police cars, and our supervisor Lt. Jackman, who is chewing me out! 

"You can't go in someone's house and shoot their bear! What's wrong with you?"

The owner runs into his house. and sees that his Bear has been shot, and breaks out laughing. I learned some time later that the home owner never repaired the stuffed animal, he placed two rings around the bullet holes and now it a conversation piece.

************************

Amphibious Arrest 1983

Amphibious Arrest 1983
(stories of the Lost Patrol)
(C) James J Alonzo

The phone startled me awake one early morning,

"Hey! What are you doing?!" asked the voice of my partner and friend Jack.

"Jack, do you have any idea what time it is?" I sleepily asked.

"Yeah, it's nighttime. It's two AM, Saturday morning, and I need your help!"

"My help?"

"Yeah, I got three warrants for three burglary suspects, and I found out where they are. They're camping at the Derby cliff beaches."

"Who is it Jim?" asked my wife Nanci.

"It's Jack, sweetie", I answered her, then back to speaking to Jack,

"So picked them up, what do you need me for?" I asked.

"I need you to help me, we been after these perps all summer, and if we get them I make sure your name is in the paper!"

"Tell Jack to get lost." Nanci said as she rolled over and tried to get back to sleep.

"Jack, Nanci says go fuck yourself." and I hung up, laid back down. No sooner did I close my eyes, the phone rang again. "Shit! Picking up the phone again,

"What!"

"I'll be there in five minutes!" Jack said and hung up.

This was 1982, no cell phones, so he had been calling me from a pay phone. I normally would have been with Jack patrolling, but there had been a scheduling problem. So I thought I had the night off, 

"Nanci, I am going out to serve a warrant with Jack." I told my sleepy wife.

"That's nice, see if you can shoot Jack accidentally for me." then she rolled over, mumbling something about never marry a cop. 

I should have known he'd pull this stunt and find something for us to do tonight! I got up and dressed into jeans, black T-shirt, running shoes, Sheriff's Department baseball hat, shoulder holster for my .45 caliber pistol. Just as I finished dressing, I couldn't help hearing Jack arriving, so too the neighbors! Jack pulled in my driveway sirens and lights on!

"That's my partner Jack," I said to myself. He does this to wake my neighbors up, pissed them off, later this weekend I will have to answer to them why the noise at 2 AM!

I got in the patrol car looking at Jack's broad beaming face, and the look there was like a boy that had played a trick on his parents! 

"You do  know you're an asshole don't you?"

"Yeah, but I also know where the perps are!" Jack laughed, "I got a tip from one of my informers on their location. These are the clowns have been burglarizing the homes and Summer cottages. We haven't been able to identify them if it wasn't for that one mansion having a camera hookup and got all three on video tape."

"You better be right. Besides Nanci wants me to accidentally shoot you for waking her up!" 

As we drove down the highway at speeds of over 80 MPH, Jack further filled me in on his plans and information he had. The perps were located at the Derby Cliffs, which stood over 100 feet rising from the beach. The only way the public can reach the beach was to step down 10 flights of steel stairs. At previous times the perps would hear the cops start down the stairs and the perps would take off. On the other hand, one could approach the beach from a boat at night, be confused as fishermen.

The three burglars were brother known as the Winnerts. Richard, John and Norman. They had been spending all summer here, and committing their crimes.

"You want me to do what?" I asked incredulously.

"Listen," Jack said, "You know how to operate a row boat, and in the trunk of this very patrol car, I have a 75 horse outboard motor, and away we go, after the bad guys!

As Jack was describing his plan his voice went up a range of higher octaves!

"Jack, there is a problem," I advised, "we don't have a row boat!"

"No! Your wrong Jim, we have one of the rental boats at Sturgeon Point boat harbor."

(Sturgeon Point harbor is in Derby, New York small boat harbor where the town rents row boats and dock space for citizen's bigger boats. The harbor inlet is three sided with land on two sides, and a limestone wall on the lake (Erie) side) protecting the boats in the harbor from heavy weather and storms)

"Okay, I see, this is one of your well thought of ideas. We don't have a boat, but the public through the town does, and I'm sure the town has no idea of your plan? I'll bite what boat are we using?"

"The town rents out these boats for fishing during the summer, right?" Jack asked, still excited over his plan! "Besides your plans suck too! What about your idea on the business, professional mourning service?"

Choosing to ignore his criticism, I said,

"Those boats are chained up for the evening and locked,,," then it hit me, "oh no you're not!" 

I was suddenly aware that Jack hadn't asked permission, he didn't even let the watch commander know of his plan, rules and procedures call for...

"I got a special key!" Jack said laughing, "I got bolt cutters! We get the boat, hook up the outboard motor, and off we go to arrest these smart ass Winnert brothers. And when we get back we will do a burglary report on the boat, and what the Hell weblame the Winnert brothers for that too!"

"We are going to get in trouble, I can see it coming." I said resignedly.

"I don't know why you are sitting there pounding your head against the head rest, it's a good plan." Jack said trying to convince me.

"One of these days I'm going to be in prison, looking out, because of you, and I hope Nanci shoots you in the balls for revenge."

"Don't be an old lady," Jack said laughing, "It will be a cake walk, trust me will you?"

Trust him? I trust him with my life, but this is the same police officer, who in his short career erected five police cars in 'high pursuit chases or officer in trouble' calls. This is the officer that responded to a 'noise under house', shot a skunk, not realizing that when a skunk dies against it's will it tend to let go it's sent gland one big and last time!

Trust him? This is the same officer that when bored one night at 3 AM, decided to practice his shooting in a field by shooting at a painted iron pipe that was sticking out of the ground. When I drove up I pointed out that the iron pipe was a natural gas vent pipe. 

When we got to Sturgeon Point harbor, we got out of the patrol car, Jack got his motor and the bolt cutters out of the trunk. The night was black, starless, no clouds and there was no Moon. However the wind was blowing a good 15 knots, the shelter harbor was calm, but I was beginning to wonder about the lake outside the harbor.

"Well I picked out a boat and cut the lock," Jack said, "so here give me a hand hooking up the motor."

"Jack, what do you think the lake is like outside the break wall?"

"No I mean, there is a wind, do you think the swells and wave might be too high for this boat?"

"You're such a chicken, it'll be fine! Go get a a couple of life vests if you're so worried."

"Yeah I'll get TWO vests, one for me and one for YOU." I sad sarcastically.

"Well I have to cover my uniform, don't I?"

"Yeah right, you're so full of shit! Come on let's get this abortion over with!"

We loaded the motor on the boat and pushed out into the harbor. Sitting in the rear of the boat I started the motor, Jack stood in the front of the boat like the scene from the famous painting of George Washington crossing the Delaware. As we past the break wall the waves and swells were high, and the boat was bouncing a lot, proving my point.

"Just what I said Jack, you asshole! We are going to capsize in a stolen town boat, drown, and the watch commander nor our wives have any clue where we are!"

"Relax, I have a radio, if we get in trouble, I'll radio for help. Besides, it's not so bad, I'm standing here, and the waves don't have me scared."

Then a wave hit the boat from the side fully, rocking the boat severely and Jack almost loosing his balanced, hunkered down and started to put his life vest on.   

We had to go west out of the harbor and sail north about a quarter mile, then west, around a point of land. Once around this point we would head south towards the Highland Beaches. Normally on a calm day, it would take fifteen minutes tops, but tonight with these rough waters, it took us forty-five minutes. After we suffered bouncing water, soaking waves, the motor overworking, smoking, wanting to stall, we finally sailed south toward the beach, the Winnerts, the waves picking up the boat and propelling us forward.

"Jack, your an asshole," I shouted, " I should have my head examined for doing this stunt!"

"Jim this stunt will be great!" Jack shouted back, besides the hard part is over. The motor is not working hard or smoking anymore. We'll be in the newspapers on this one!"

We continued bickering and shouting over the noise from the waves, the Sind and the overworked motor. We stop talking once we saw the camp fire on the beach. We could see the three perps laying in sleeping bags near their fire. Jack resumed his George Washington position at the front of the boat.

"Jim, steer more to the left!", Jack guided me, "More to the left, damn it!"

"Fuck you, the swells and waves are not making this easy!"

"Well try damn it!"

As we got as close as 50 yards to the beach we hit a huge rock that was partly under the water, and almost flipped the boat over. This caused us to laugh aloud, just because of the irony of this mission, trying to make an amphibious arrest in these dangerous conditions. Maybe it was a release for the pent up fear and apprehension we had, but it seemed to us as the right thing to do. We could hear the perps laughing at us, probably thinking we were drunk fishermen.

We gathered our composure, and continued to the beach, with the only light was from the suspects fire. When the boat hit the beach we were ten feet from the perps. Jack leap off, and hearing one of the suspects ask what our problem was? Jack opened his life vest, pulled his pistol and stated,  

"Police, asshole, you’re under arrest, and not to move!" 

Since all three were in their sleeping bags, they were not in any position to bolt. Taking out one suspect at a time, we handcuffed first Richard, Norman, and John. Once secured we searched for weapons, finding a 9MM pistol, numerous jewelry, and unstamped cartons of cigarettes that were stolen from a truck. The  beach was full of stolen property from many local burglaries, so I knew we had the right guys.

We gave them their Miranda rights, but these clowns seemed to be chatty as they stood there hand cuffed. 

"Man that was slick!" said Richard Winnert. "We thought you were a bunch of lost fishermen, too stupid to get off the lake in a small boat in this weather!"

"Shut up stupid!" I ordered, looking at Jack who was wearing his 'I told you' shit eating grin on his face! I hated it when Jack is right! I gave the perps their Miranda rights. 

The three of the perps continued speaking to each other on the way we came by the lake and surprised them, never expecting cops to risk their lives or use trickery such as this to apprehend them. They even thought when we hit the rock, that we were just some drunk fishermen, because of the way we were shouting at each other.

"11 Bravo to Radio." Jack radioed dispatch.

"This is Radio, come in 11 Bravo."

"We need a pick up for three perps, location Derby beach cliffs stairwell."

"Roger, pickup perps, Derby Cliff stairwell."

Having lined the talkative Winnert brothers so we could keep and eye on them, Jack decided to break some news to me,

"Jim, I'll take this jerks up the stairs for the pickup and ride back with them to the station, meanwhile you take the boat back."

"Fuck that! Leave the boat here, and pick it up tomorrow!"

"We can't!", Jack responded, "We have to return the boat before the town finds out it was borrowed!"

"Yeah Jack, the key word is WE! And WE return the boat together, or WE bring it back tomorrow!"

"Don't be an old lady, just take the boat back, and I'll take these clowns back and book them."

Laughing aloud, 

"I can't believe you expect me to take the boat back alone in this wind and high swells?"

"That's right Jim, you know I have to assist the pickup officer when you have three perps..."

"You're a fucking liar!" (He said this knowing the the patrol car has a cage between the driver and the perps, and doors that lock from the front, besides the perps were handcuffed.) " You're just afraid to go back in that fucking boat!" I said laughing.

"No I'm not! I really have to go with these clowns; It's my arrest after all." Jack said.

"I'll tell you what," I said, "the perps can go back with us on the boat back to the harbor. That way they can appreciate what we went through on that damn lake just to arrest them."

Meanwhile the Winnert brothers have been uncomfortably been listening to our conversation, their heads moving back and forth, like watching a tennis match.

"Jim, we can't do that! What if the boat capsized and the perps drown, we'll go to jail for manslaughter!"

Sensing that our perps were getting concerned, I decided to have a little fun with this argument. 

"Fuck them Jack, we'll handcuff them to the seats, if we capsize they can go down with the boat! We deny they were even in our custody!"

"What the shit are you saying? Are you nuts!" Jack said. 

Meanwhile Richard Winnert piped in,

"No no man, my brothers and I will ride in the police car."

"Shut up!" I said, "You have the right to remain silent, so keep you stupid mouth shut! Or I'll knock your teeth out!"

"Jim calm down!"

"Calm down shit! This is you fucking arrest, your boat motor! Remember I was peacefully sleeping and safely in my bed, until you needed my help. So I quit, you take the boat back, I'll ride with the perps in the car!"

"Let's go", I started to herd the Winnert brothers towards the steel stairs. "Move it assholes, you clowns and I are riding in the patrol car."

Jack followed us up the stairs continuing to argue his points, 

"Jim, I should go with the perps, not you. And we got to return the boat or we'll be in trouble."

"You just said it. WE got to return the boat. So WE are going to hand off the perps, and go take the boat back or it sits here. So when we get in your car you can drop me off at home and then go to the station an write up your felony arrest report."

"Okay I'll clear it with the watch commander. Shit! You are a pain in the ass!"

I didn't bother to respond. When we got to the top of the stairs, it was our watch commander, Lt. Jackman waiting for us.

"I might have known Alonzo you would be involved in this cluster fuck!", as he opened the patrol car and placed the perps in the back seat.

"Sir!", I responded, "I give all the credit to Jack for this arrest. He deserves it! You should put him in for a medal!  I was just sleeping and he kidnapped me against my will."

"Shut up!" Lt. Jackman shouted, as he slammed the car door shut on the perps. It is a known fact, he liked Jack but had no use for me.

"Yes sir!" I respond, "And thank you!"

"Where'd you get the boat?" Lt. Jackman asked suspiciously, looking down at the beach. 

"Sir, can you transport these punks?" Jack interrupted, "so we can return the boat we borrowed."

"Who's boat is it? I know you clowns don't own one."

"Alonzo's brother," Lied Jack, "he loaned it to us just for this arrest."

"Alonzo's brother? what's his first name?"

"Paul!," I piped in, "but he doesn't want any credit, because he is afraid of retaliation."

"Okay you two clowns get the boat back." ordered Lt. jackman, "and don't take alight, I want these punks booked and arraigned in the morning!"

Lt. Jackman got in his patrol vehicle and drove off at a high rate of speed kicking up dirt, and stones in our direction. 

"Gee, you'd think he's pissed about something?"  I asked sarcastically.

"Why don't you tell Jackman about your idea on professional mourners? That should give him a laugh!" Jack said.

We went back down the stairs to the beach and boat, gathered up the stolen property putting the evidence in the boat.    

"I'll drive the boat." Jack said, "you're too cautious, and you'll take too long!"

"Sure, no skin off my nose. Start up the motor, and I'll untie the rope."

After I heard Jack start up the motor, I heard the motor race, and he must of accidentally put it in gear, for the boat shot off like a rocket, impaling the bottom of the boat on a hidden rock, forcing the boat to spin a few revolutions on top of the rock! As the boat was spinning, I could hear the screech of metal! I knew this was not good, but Jack manage to turn off the motor.

"Why didn't you tell me there was a rock under the water!" Jack laughed. "We're cool, nothing damaged, just a big dent!"

"I thought you knew what you were doing?" I said.

"I do, nothings wrong! Just get in the fucking boat, and let's go!"

We started out on our return trip, Jack driving, and me sitting in the front. The waves and swell were as bad as before, but I was more confident we would get back since Jack was driving the boat. That was until 20 minutes later when Jack shouts out,

"Shit! We're taking water!"

I turned around, and sure enough I saw the leak right where the new dent was. 

"Shit Jack! We have a leak!"

"No shit Sherlock! We got anything to bail out the water?"

"No, you better head to shore right now!" 

But Jack grabbed my baseball cap and started to bail the water out once or twice, then threw my water soaked hat at me and said,

"Get to work!"

I could see he wasn't heading to shore so I bailed water at a very strong tempo. Jack clung to the shoreline. It was a rougher ride but my hat,  water damaged as it was, did the job keeping back the sinking of the boat. We finally got back to the boat harbor at 5 AM,  brought the "borrowed boat" on shore, removed the motor, and left before anyone would see us. Jack dropped me off at my house turning on the lights and s irene as we arrived, waking Nanci and the neighbors!

"Yep! You are an asshole!" I said.

"Jim I really appreciate you helping me on this bust. I couldn't of done it with out you. I promise to make sure your name is listed on the arrest report."

"Yeah? Blow it out your ass!"

The next day while reading the newspaper, there was a headline,

POLICE OFFICER MAKES SOLO AMPHIBIOUS ARREST OF THREE BURGLARY SUSPECTS!

****************************** 

Bodyguard of Two Child Movie Stars

Bodyguard of two Child Movie Stars
(stories of the Lost Patrol)

© James J. Alonzo

“Hello,“ I said answering my phone.

“Hello, Mr. Alonzo?” The voice on the telephone asked.

“Yes, how may I help you?” I said.

“Mr. Alonzo, you don’t know me, my name is Robert Mangold from Warner Brothers productions.”

“Ok, how can I help you?”

“Well, you come highly recommended by Captain Holcomb, from the Erie County Sheriffs department.”

“I see.” I said, “Mr. Mangold, Captain Holcomb recommended me, so can you tell me for what?”

“Oh, yes,“ Mangold stuttered, “Well, well we need a body guard service. In addition, as I was saying, Captain Holcomb recommended you. Are you familiar with the child actors, Johnny Whittaker, of Family Affair, and Brandon Cruz, of Courtship of Eddie’s Father?” he said.

“I am familiar with the television shows, because my kids watch them. However Mr. Mangold, I don’t bodyguard children, call a babysitting service. Or better yet, call Captain Holcomb, and tell him to shove my phone number up his ass!” I hung up the phone.

I hate bodyguard work, especially VIP children, and their parents. It’s part of the business though, and the money was real good!

When I was a deputy I was on the detail at the Sheriffs’ office and my good friend Captain Holcomb, which only provide security for presidents, and high value VIP’s. So he would recommend me when it was some lesser VIP. The Phone immediately rang again, and I thought for a couple of seconds about not answering the phone, but money‘s money.

“Hello,” I said, answering the phone.

“Mr. Alonzo, this is Robert again, please listen to me.”

“Yeah, go a head.” I sighed.

“The boys are coming to Buffalo this weekend, on Saturday,” Mangold said, “and as in other cities, are making appearances at many of the local stores, that are outlets of their clothing line. Nevertheless, as in other cities the boys are sure to be mobbed by the teenyboppers! So we need your help, and we will pay you $5,000 for five hours work.”

“Alright, Mr. Mangold, when are you going to be arriving? “

“We will be arriving Saturday, at ten AM, in a private jet, and making a 10:30 AM appearance at the Hengerers Store at Downtown Buffalo, and then the West Seneca Mall, at twelve noon,” Mangold explained, “then we will go back to the airport, and fly on to Cleveland, Ohio. We need you to coordinate the security for these two appearance events. You and your staff will meet us at each appearance. Each time we arrive by Limo, you will then escort us to the stage and after the show then back to the limo. After the second appearance, we will fly out at 2 PM.

“How many people do you expect to show up?” I asked.

“Well in Little Rock, Arkansas, 3,000 showed up. The police provided the perimeter security, and we had body guards for the personal protection.”

“OK, I will coordinate the local Police, to do the same, and I will have a staff with me, for the kid’s personal protection.” I explained, “But understand this Mr. Mangold, we don’t serve drinks, carry baggage, baby-sit, or anything else, but protection. Got it?”

“Yes, I understand,” Mangold, said, “Here is my number, 213-555-1414, and the road crew will get in touch with you in the next day or so, for the coordination of stage security.”

“One more thing Mr. Mangold, bring the payment for our services with you.” I instructed, cash only, we don‘t take checks.”

“Of course I will bring the money with me, and thank you.” Mangold said, “Goodbye Mr. Alonzo.”

“Goodbye.” I said.

Well, it looked like I could make some money, but I’d have to get the right men for the job. These were children so I didn’t see a need to use armed men; I needed men that knew crowd control. The money offered by Hollywood Mangold, was enough for me to pay $100 an hour and still show a profit. So I called my best friend and partner Jack who is 6'3"height,two hundred-eighty pounds, blonde hair, my idea of Nordic Viking 

Jack was also my bodyguard, and watched my back at all times. Jack moves like a cat, and is solid muscle. He has the kind of strength that he doesn’t have to work out to have.

“Yo,” Jack said, when he answered.

“Hey brother man. We got a body guard case.” I announced, trying to make it sound exciting. Jack hated these cases, unless it meant guarding a beautiful woman, like the time we guarded Lonnie Anderson, Goldie Hawn and Burt Reynolds, when they filmed ‘Best Friends“, in Buffalo..

“Oh, yea.” He asked suspiciously, “Who are we body guarding.”

“Two kids from Hollywood, TV stars.” I said.

“No!” Jack said, then he hung up. Hmmm? Ok, I sighed, I’ll call him back later.

I next called Rocco Richolli and his two sons, Angelo, and Nicillo. I knew they’d be good at this, their presence alone was security. The three men all looked alike, right down to the one solid eyebrow above their eyes. They were short in height, five foot seven, but huge, solid muscle, no fat, and very broad shoulders.

They had that kind of strength that they thought that they could lift anything. Rocco can you pick up the refrigerator and move it over there? No problem, and he’d do it.

They had an uncharacteristic length to their arms, arms that were longer than the average man. It was that their wrists reached their mid thigh, and then there was their neck, well, in actually they had no neck.

Their heads just sat on their shoulders, they had an extreme amount of dark long body hair, front and back, and it crawled out of their sleeves, and the top of their tight shirts. It looked more like a pelt than body hair. The Richollis were furniture movers, but they also had a business of auto repossessions, and collecting for loan sharks.

“Hello,” Angelo said, answering the phone.

“Hey, is Rocco in?” I asked.

“Yeah, he’s in,” said Angelo. I waited for a full minute before I realized Angelo was still breathing into the phone and not getting Rocco to the phone.

“Well, can I talk to him?” I asked.

“Oh, you want to talk to my father?” Angelo asked.

“Uh, Yeah, I do, thank you.” I said courteously.

I knew not want to insult or cross any of these men.

In the past, I have visited some of their work that wound up in hospitals, and these men were very thorough, in dishing out pain. Mess with one, and you’ve messed with all three.

I packed a gun, but not an elephant gun, and if I needed to mess with these men, I would need a big gun..

“Is this Jimmy?” Rocco came on the phone and asked. He was one of the few people that called me Jimmy.

“Yeah Rocco, how you doing today?” I asked.

“Ok. You got some work for me?” he asked.

“Yeah, I do. I have some bodyguard work for you and your two boys; it pays $500 each for five hours. You interested?” I said.

“Yeah, that’s cool; I’m interested, “he said, “when is the work to be done?”

“This Saturday, from 9:30 AM to 2:30 PM,” I said, and I filled him in on the rest of the tentative plan and scheduling. Then I called Jack back, and after an hour, finally convinced him to sign on and help me. However, it cost me more than I planned, it ate in to my profit, because I knew I had to pay Jack $1,500, the same as it cost me for three Richolli men.

~*

The Day of the bodyguard detail arrived, the road crew that was hired by Mr. Mangold, had built two temporary stages that was four feet in height, and 16’ x 16’ platforms, and they were ready at each store site. Everything was planned after meeting with each police detail leaders, and coordinating their assignments. I was meeting with Jack, Rocco, and the Richolli boys, and discussing the plans for VIP security at each store’s site of the entertainment day.

“When the kids get up here, and they are ready to go on the stage, we with the local police officers will form a corridor, so they can run up the stairs on to the stage unhindered.” I explained, “The same when the kids come down off the stage. We will take them back into the warehouse where their limo is parked. Once the kids are in the limo, the garage door will open, and the kids go away. There will be no autograph sessions, so we don’t have to deal with that shit.”

“When do we get paid?” asked Rocco.

“Today, Mr. Mangold assured me. Don’t worry, you’ll get paid.” I said.

“Right, well don’t worry Jimmy, if we don’t, we will only break your knees.” Rocco said laughing, and then his boys laughed too. I looked at Jack for support, but he was laughing too!”

(Note to self, save my knee caps, make sure to get money from Mangold as soon as possible.)

When The kids showed up at the first site, we escorted them on the stage, and they gave a thirty minute show, Brandon Cruz, and Johnny Whittaker sang, dance, and joke, driving a crowd of at least 3,000 people mostly prepubescent kids screaming. Meanwhile I met in an empty office, with Mr. Mangold, to discuss money.

“Well Mr. Alonzo,” Mangold explained sheepishly, “we don’t normally carry that kind of cash, but I will send you payment if you will give me an address to do so.”

“Listen pal, you knew that payment was to be on delivery of services, so don’t give me that shit about sending me a payment later.

"Well you’ll just have to accept it this way.” He said smugly.

“I see, wait here, I’ll be right back. I said.

When I came back, a few minutes later, I had Rocco and one of his sons, Nicillo, with me,

“Mr. Mangold, I’d like you to meet two of my colleagues, and since I have to go back to the kids and the show, you can explain to these fellows why they have to wait for their money.” I said, and then I left a very scared looking Mr. Mangold to the Richolli family.

When I got out of the office, and approached the stage area, the kids were just finishing up. So I took position with Jack and Angelo Richolli, and we successfully got the kids through the crowd and into their Limo.

“Well let’s get to the other store,” I said to Jack and Angelo.

“Where’s my father,” Angelo asked, looking around.

“Angelo, he and your brother are with Mr. Mangold to clear up a problem and get our pay.” I explained, “I’m sure they’ll meet us at the West Seneca Store. So why don‘t you ride with us?”

“Ok, I can do that.” said Angelo.

When we got to the next store, we waited for the kids to arrive. Meanwhile Rocco, and his son Nicillo arrived.

“Where’s Mangold?” I asked concerned a little.

“Relax, he’s alive,“ said Rocco, “Mangold decided to have the money wired to us, at Western Union, so I got the money. But Mr. Mangold said he didn't feel very good, and was going back to Los Angeles.”

“Good give me the money and I‘ll divvy it out,” I said as I held my hand out.

“Sure, here is the money,” Rocco said, “but minus our pay, $1500, a finders fee of $1000,and Jack's pay, which he told me was $1500, is that correct Jack?"

“Yes, it is, and thank you Rocco.” Jack said, smiling at me, as he was handed his money, and I knew by the look on Jack's face he was enjoying my sudden discomfort.

“Uh, Rocco, that wasn’t our deal,” I said, “I mean, you agreed to the pay I was offering.”

“Yes, Jimmy, but we had to persuade Mr. Mangold to pay us,” Rocco explained, “and that was before we found out you were paying Jack the same pay as the three of us. Tsk, Tsk, Jimmy, that wasn’t very fair of you, I am surprised at you.”

And he handed me the remaining money. I looked over at Jack, he was rolling around laughing his ass off!

When the kids arrived for the second show, the same thing, the kids arrived and went on the stage and did their thing. While the crowds were screaming and pushing to get closer, we took up position as we did before, holding a corridor for the kids to exit. We stood on each side of the corridor, keeping the crowds away from our corridor, by extending our arms outward from our sides making contact with each others forearms. As I stood next to Jack on my left, and Angelo on my right, I heard through all the screaming, Angelo arguing with someone behind him.

“Lady, relax, and quit pushing!“ Angelo said over his left shoulder.

“I just want to get by, you fucking jerk! I want to go into the mall, so let me by!“ The Lady ordered Angelo, as she tried to get by, only to be blocked by Angelo Richollis’ large body.

She was a big woman, five feet nine inches, and a good 250 plus pounds, and she was pissed. 

“Lady, shut the fuck up, and wait,” Angelo said.

“Well, we’ll see about this!” And she kept pushing, poking, and trying to get by.

“Lady, I’m warning you, wait! Angelo said.

This was the last I heard on this conversation, because the kids were done, and we had to encircle them, and got them out of there.

After we got the kids off in their Limo, and they drove off, we sat in the back office, and had coffee, patted ourselves on the back, and a few laughs. That was till Mr. Wagner the Store’s general Manager came back, and in his high effeminate voice said,

“Mr. Alonzo, there is a woman out there, that has a big black eye!” he said, “And she says one of the security personnel punched her during the show.!

I looked at Angelo, to confirm my suspicions, he smiled back at me, and I said to Mr. Wagner, “That’s impossible, I’ll go out an talk to her.”

But as I got up from my chair, Mr. Wagner said, “Well I’ll go get her.” and he left the room. Meanwhile, Jack jumped up and opened the closet door,

“Angelo, get in here, “ Jack said. Which Angelo did. Jack shut the door on Angelo, looked at me, and said,

“You got a law suit if she identifies Angelo on this detail.”

“Yeah, I know.” I said. Just as I finished saying that, the woman, I found out her name was Stella Grabowski, and Mr. Wagner, ever so helpful, came back to the office we were in.

“Yes! There he is!,” Mrs. Grabowski with her closed black eye, pointed at me, “The man that punched me was standing next to this man.”

“Ma’am,” I said, “do you see, in this office, anyone here that was the man that punched you?”

“No, but he was standing next to you, I’m sure of it.” She said insistent.

“Well ma’am, this is the only security personnel that work for me. I’m sorry.” I said with sympathy in my voice.

“Oh dear, I can’t believe the man hit me in this nice store.” She said. That was Mr. Wagner’s que,

“Well dear, why don’t we go to my office, and maybe we can get you a gift certificate, and maybe that will help you get through this shameful ordeal.” They then left the office we were in.

“Ok,” I said, “Let’s get Angelo out of here, and we will meet at the Ground Round restaurant.”

The Richolli family made there way out through the same warehouse, and drove away.

“This is been a bad day for you?” Jack said, still laughing.

“Yeah, you got that right. I can’t believe he punched that broad, those Richolli thugs are crazy. I could get sued if the woman puts it together.”

When we got to the restaurant, the Richolli boys were celebrating their good fortune. I asked Angelo what happened with the woman.

“Shit, she kept pushing me, and I told her to stop, but then she started to poke me in the back with something hard and sharp. It turned out to be a Umbrella. So when the kids ran down the steps of the stage, and all eyes were on them, I turned around and I punched her.”

I never used the Richolli boys again for bodyguard work

~*************

Edna Benz (store detective years)

Edna Benz
(store detective years)

(C) James J Alonzo

One of the most interesting characters that I ever worked with was Edna Benz. I had just got a job as a store detective at a company called Wm.Hengerer. This store chain was a very high end dry goods store that had one motto , "if you are going to sell it, sell it expensive".

I had  got back from duty in Viet Nam, went and live in the mountains of Northern Idaho for a year sabbatical from the war. I learned nothing in Idaho except how to cut trees down, to live off the land, grow my hair long and a beard. My family wanted me to go back to Buffalo, so I needed a job, and I went down to apply at Hengerers. As I was walking through the down town store* looking for the personnel  department, I spotted two young women wrestling with another rather large woman, putting handcuffs on her, telling the large woman she was under arrest!

I walked over to the clerk near by and asked,

"What's that about?"

"Oh those two women, they're store detectives, and they caught a shoplifter." **

I was immediately hooked, that's what I wanted to do, so I asked where do I apply? I was given instructions on where the security managers office was and went there. There I met Timothy Murphy, filled out an application, and was told to come back two days later.*** 

Two days later I was hired, and had to start a 30 day training period with the other store detectives. Murphy has explained to me that shoplifters had to be followed (since they didn't have any of the new fangled cameras that stores later would start using.) and shoplifters had to be observed stealing by the store detectives. Murphy had started a undercover operation where there were ladies dressed as secretaries, hippies, (me), minorities, all to fool the thieves to steal in front of his squad. These store detectives at time would have police officers in plain clothes working with them. 

My first training session was to be with Edna Benz, and I was to meet her at the West Seneca Mall. I had heard a lot of stories of this woman, that she was 5' tall, and 63 years old, and that she average five arrests a day. 

That she would wear wigs, one day she would dress like a a nun, another she would wheel around in a wheel chair, another as a blind woman with a white cane. Other times, because she is so short would hide in the clothing racks. They told me she was the best and was like a pit bull! I asked Murphy,

"What does she look like?" I asked. 

"Don't worry," Murphy said laughing, "She'll find you."

The next day I went to train at the West Seneca mall. Not sure where exactly the store was located, I entered the mall's middle entrance, the mall had over 100 stores or restaurants, and at the center concourse I checked the mall map. 

As I was doing this I heard someone running towards me, from my left and I spotting him, he was a tall black man. As he was running towards me, he ran with a very poor posture with his stomach out and head pulled back.  But what really made it strange was he had very expensive knit Pants clutched in both hands. As he ran, his hands and arms were pumping up and down accented by the clothing in each hand. 

Looking closely as he ran by me, I noted that he was a dark color African-American, 6'4", 200 lbs., but I also noted there was a set of white arms wrapped around his neck. The white arms, I was to learn later, belong to one Edna Benz, who was hanging on the perps back with her athletic shoed feet firmly planted in the small of his back. She was jerking his neck trying break his back or to make him fall!  

I ran after the two of them, and when catching up, I threw my shoulder into the perps side knocking both the perp and Edna 'ass over tea kettle!' He went down and Edna like a true gymnast tucked and rolled, landing on her hands and knees facing the perp and I. As I am handcuffing the perp, she shouts,

"He's mine!" She shouts out, "He's mine!"

"Relax lady," I said to her, "I was just helping!"

"I don't need your help! I had him! Who are you?"

"I'm the new trainee." I replied. Realizing this had to be Edna Benz.

She looked me up and down, like she was buying a new vehicle, then said sarcastically,

"You might do okay. But don't ever try to steal one of my perps again!"

I knew this was going to be a cantankerous relationship. 


*Wm. Hengerers at the time had five stores, one down town, and in four main suburbs.

** Women in 1970, in law enforcement was uncommon. If they did work in law enforcement, they were placed in administration type jobs.  

***When Murphy hires he has a complete background check done on the applicant. Murphy had contacts with the police and FBI, since he was criminal justice teacher at Buffalo State College,