Luckily…

Every year, Tulsa police officers renew their assignments. That is, we "bid" for which side of town and which shift we work, and which days off we have. It’s based upon seniority. So, the longer you’ve been on the department, the more likely you can choose to work the day shift and have Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays off. If you’re fresh out of the academy, the more likely you’ll have little choice but to work the graveyard shift and call Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday your new "weekend."

For dozens of reasons (mostly personal), I chose to work graveyards in a different side of town. Yes, Tuesday is my new "Friday" and Thursday is my new "Sunday" of sorts. The last couple of weeks have been a period of adjustment. Getting familiar with a new "designator"—before I was Lincoln-three-thirty-two (L332), now, I’m Edward-one-thirty-four (E134). It’s the same game in a different ballpark. And it takes some time to learn new streets, alleys, "bad" neighborhoods and trouble spots, and putting names with new faces both on the street and in the squad room.

Perhaps the biggest change for me, is that my former squad mate (Ogre) and I, now work opposite sides of town. For a year, we were twins of sorts. On the street, we were known as "Big Ugly" (AKA "Big Hungry") and "Little Ugly" Sure, he’s a foot taller, a hundred pounds heavier, and eats 8-10 pounds of food (per meal) more than I do, but we were practically each other’s shadow and nearly inseparable. No, not out of weird attraction for each other, as a year of jokes from other officers can attest, but because we were both eager to learn as much as we could, chase the baddest, ugliest criminals we could find, and make as many arrests as we could. We tried to be as non-stop, gung-ho as we were capable. It cost us many late nights (and consequent spousal tirades), all sorts of ridicule and rumors from our fellow officers, and dozens of complaints from citizens and officers alike. But as long as we put the felons in jail and our sergeant was satisfied, we gladly paid the price.

After a year, we had developed our own intuitive way of doing things. If Ogre drove one way, I circled around the other. If his car slowed for a moment, I knew we were gonna roll up on someone. If he paused for a second, at a certain moment during a car stop, I knew I’d be searching a car. We had developed our own style and rhythm. Our own cop jazz. One of my training officers told me a long time ago, that everything in police work has a "rhythm" to it. Now, I know what he was talking about, not just theoretically, but practically speaking.

So after a year of hiding behind garbage dumpsters, sneaking up on criminals, and knowing I could absolutely and undoubtedly trust the other person in uniform next to me, I’m suddenly starting all over again by myself.

Knowing that I don’t have a partner, or "running buddy," I deliberately avoided getting into "trouble"—that is, I avoided sneaking around by myself and scaring up dope dealers in the middle of their "business" transactions. Besides everybody would just take off running, I’d probably only be able to chase just one, if I was lucky. And maybe other officers would be available to join the so-called chase. But they probably wouldn’t get there until five minutes after the "bad guys" have already run home, smoked their dope, poured a bowl of cereal and fallen asleep on the couch with bad infomercials on the TV while we were still fumbling around aimlessly looking around for nothing.

I know better than to take unnecessary risks, but last night, I couldn’t resist the temptation. I wanted to sneak around like I did before. I wanted to chase dope and guns—not just red-light violators, speeders, and jay-walking pedestrians.

I had noticed a few spots with a few people who weren’t necessarily constituting the moral fiber of our society nor bolstering the pillars of our community. I shut off the headlights, slowly rolled around the parking lot, got out and quietly peered around the dark corners. Within seconds, a dozen people take off one direction, and three others suspiciously try to walk away in another.

I swiftly walked up to the group of three. They tried to make off real quick, but luckily, they stopped as I started yelling louder and angrier. I noticed one of them, an older guy, had what looked like a gun in his sweatpants pocket. I couldn’t tell anything about the other two, except one seemed to have his pockets full too. I tried to quickly get the older guy to sit down, so I could detain him. But he wasn’t listening. Since he chose to ignore me, I grabbed his arm and told him put his hands behind his back. He wasn’t having it. He repeatedly pulled one arm away while I held on to the other.

Luckily, my tactical options were already pre-loaded in my brain. While I’m struggling with my hands and yelling with my mouth, the back of my mind is sorting out what to do next. I could take the guy to the ground and handcuff him, but I’d be distracted, and wouldn’t be able to keep my eyes on the other two guys—I still didn’t know what they were up to. Instead of fighting on the ground, I stuck my can of "pepper spray" in the guy’s face. Luckily, he stopped struggling and I slapped the other handcuff on him.

I then handcuffed one of the other guys, the one with the other bulky pockets. As for the third guy, I didn’t have any more handcuffs, so I did what I could to get him to sit and keep his hands on his knees.

Luckily, I handcuffed the two guys with guns. I ran out of handcuffs at the right time as the third guy didn’t have anything. The older guy had a gun in his pocket. The other guy had a 9MM in his pocket.

Luckily, I didn’t take the older guy to the ground and fight with him. In retrospect, I could see myself struggling with the older guy, while the other could have easily walked up and shot me in the back of the head. I would have never have seen it coming. But luckily, it didn’t happen. And even more so, I can sit here, type this, and remind myself that I know better.

Off. Jay Chiarito-Mazzarella

Comments

[FANK]

That's good stuff! I enjoy reading your stories. You and I "cop" the same way, with the exception that I'm in Nebraska (GO HUSKERS!). There's a lot to be said for that 'sixth sense' that lets you know when a bad guy has a gun or a situation doesn't exactly pass the "smell test". Sounds like it turned out very well for you this time! Keep up the good work. The hardest part for me is finding someone who wants to go beat the bushes too, you may find that officers like 'Ogre' are few and far between. Happy hunting! "To protect the sheep you must hunt the wolves."

[Officer Jay]

FANK,

Thanks very much for the kind words and encouragement. Indeed, I learn more and more every shift, that a good partner is truly a priceless thing. Besides, it makes good ol'-fashion cop fun, even more of a blast! Stay safe in Nebraska.

[Jennifer]

Sometimes being too "eager" will get you in trouble...Sounds like you got really lucky that something serious did not happen to you! I am married to an officer and would kick his butt for this sort of action :)