Car is up 31 percent in the pond.
Top Five Stolen Cars in the city.
1994 Honda Accord
1998 Honda Civic
1991 Toyota Camry
1996 Subaru Legacy
1999 Ford Pickup (full size)
Posted at 02:17 AM in Facts, Operations | Permalink
Leaving a beef, an African American man flags me down and stomps up to my car.
He says, "What you doin'? You messin' with an another innocent black man?"
No. Two guys were just fighting. The loser went to detox.
He grins, "Ha! Well, there's nothin' I can say about that. You have a good day."
Posted at 02:14 AM in Patrol | Permalink
A transient flags me down.
I give him a ride to a shelter.
He has a voucher.
On the way, he says,
"This is sure a pretty city.
A lot of tent campers though"
Posted at 02:20 AM in Operations, Patrol | Permalink
The man who shot my brother was found guilty.
It took the jury 21 minutes to deliberate.
Sentencing will be in August.
Posted at 02:08 PM in Court | Permalink
The Number of Officers in the City are down to 883. At one time, we had 1047.
Calls for Service are up by 4000 for the first four months of the year for the same time period last year and 15,000 more than in 2012.
Self-Initiated calls are down 12,000 for the first four months of the year for the same time period last year.
Posted at 02:46 AM in Facts, Operations | Permalink
On 6th, I saw a beggar playing the spoons.
His cardboard signed read, "Need Change
Spooner than later."
Posted at 02:09 AM in Patrol | Permalink
In the Alphabet Blocks, I saw a woman
with silver and purple hair riding her bike
with her dachshund'shead sticking out
of the top of her black dragonscale backpack.
Posted at 02:16 AM in Animals, Patrol | Permalink
Posted at 02:27 AM in Mug Shots | Permalink
On the third floor of parking garage at 4th and Mourning,
a woman had her flip-flop stick on the gas pedal.
She panicked, press down, and rammed her car
into a wall hard enough for the air bag to deploy.
Posted at 02:15 PM in Calls | Permalink
Pam is tweaking in a tent.
Four days ago, she walked out of the hospital
against medical advice with a PICC line in her chest.
She was on her tenth day of a six week
antibiotic treatment for Endocarditis.
She refuses to go back.
Pam is in her ninth day of a manic phase.
She was first diagnosed
with mental illness at seven.
She was first hospitalized at nine.
She has been in and out ever since.
Pam is self medicating with heroin and meth.
Every four inches under her feet is an uncapped rig.
Pam is forty-six. She is five-four and weighs
around 300 lbs. Large surgery scars stretch
across her knees and shoulders. Sores spot her body.
She can't walk without a cane.
Pam is hot, on paper, and has two warrants.
She is screaming at me, "This is bullshit!"
I look in her eyes, nod, and say,
You're right. It's my job.
I am a professional bullshit catcher.
She shrieks, "You don't care."
You're right, I don't care,
but I will be kind and patient with you.
She took a breath, calmed, and smiled.
It took her an hour to smoke a cigarette
and pack two bags. We double cuffed her
and left without a scrap.
Posted at 02:03 AM in 1234, Calls | Permalink