Distinction in Chaos
Around 1:00 A.M. this morning, my partner and I get a call about a disturbance with a knife. Reportedly, a guy was running around an apartment complex stabbing people. My partner shows up first and makes an emergency request to hold all radio traffic (which means all officers stop using the radio in the meantime). As I approach the apartment, I look down below a steep embankment. There’s a broken window, shattered glass, doors forced open, people screaming, and blood everywhere I shine my flashlight. The stairs to the apartment were too far away, so the quickest way down was a grassy embankment. So, like sliding into home plate, I jumped and slid down the 20-foot slope. As I ran into the apartment, blood was smeared everywhere: on the walls, all over the carpet, and dripping from the face of a guy sitting in a chair. Another woman was lying face down on the floor, with a knife right beside her head. A terrified teenager with a shocked look on his face sat on the couch. Beside him there was a woman with cuts and blood all over her feet holding an infant. Suddenly, there was a commotion from the upstairs apartment just above. A bunch of officers run upstairs to find more victims and to hopefully catch the suspect. However, the suspect was sitting right in front of me. Sometimes, especially amid chaos, things don’t appear as they seem. Victims seem like suspects; suspects seem like victims. After the woman with the bloody feet yelled a few times at the man bleeding from his head, I knew I found the suspect. Just as I was about to handcuff him, he lunged at a paramedic who just arrived to treat the victims. I tackled the suspect, grabbed his arms behind his back, and yelled, "Cuff him! Cuff him! I got his arms!" I just found out that I was the only officer in the room. I yelled into the radio for help. Luckily, I was able to pepper-spray the suspect and handcuff him, just as other officers ran into the room. We started putting the pieces of the puzzle together. The suspect and his middle-aged mother came to the apartment where the suspect’s (common-law) wife lived. The wife told him to leave, but instead, he tried to push in the door. The wife then ran upstairs where the suspect followed her. The suspect kicked in the door of the upstairs apartment to get at her. The people upstairs also got slashed while trying to subdue the suspect, who had a knife or a machete, by hitting him over the head a few times. The people chased the suspect outside and the wife ran back downstairs into her apartment. But the suspect apparently jumped through the bedroom window (head first) to attack her. She locked herself in the bathroom, while the suspect tried to stab at her through the door and slashed her feet through the bottom of the door. That’s when my partner showed up, heard the threats and cries for help, and kicked in the door putting a stop to what could have been and even far worse attack. Off. Jay Chiarito-Mazzarella RELATED STORIES
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