Thursday, December 4, 2008

Trooper Bob We Have a 10-49 at 10:20 on 10th Street

It's Thursday which means that it is time for Trooper Bob. Now I'm going to go put on my face and go have lunch with my friend. So enjoy the adventures of Trooper Bob and I'm 10-8.

Back in the days when Trooper Bob was stationed out of the San Antonio he would often have to ride alone. Now the area that he worked in Bexar County (pronounced Bear) was quite large and he would have to cover an enormous amount of territory. This entailed spending a lot of time driving to a call and of course back to his dispatch area.
One evening he received a call on his radio “Trooper Bob we have a 10-49, that’s trooper talk for a drunk, over at 1010 Tenth street we need you to check it out. “ Trooper Bob picks up his mike and said “10-4 I’ll be 10-23” (which means ok I’m on my way.) He turned on the little cherry light on the top of his trooper car and sped down the highway to find a drunk.
He rolled up on a vehicle in a ditch flipped on his spotlight and his flasher. He grabbed his cudgel and his flashlight and exited his vehicle. Let me just take a minute here to point out that the flashlights they carried back then were about 3 feet long and weighed about 40 pounds along with his nightstick which also was about four feet long and weighed about 30 pounds. That is a lot of weight to strap on your belt. Thank goodness it was a completely separate belt than the one that held up his pants otherwise he would have looked like a modern day teenager holding his pants up while he walked.
Back to Trooper Bob with his two ton Sam Brown Belt and his flashlight that shot a beam like a searchlight. He exited his vehicle and followed the searchlight to the driver’s side door of the ditched Ford Fairlane. Draped over the steering wheel was indeed a 10-49 (remember that is a drunk driver). Trooper Bob reached in the open window of the vehicle and shook the man just a little to make sure he was alive. The drunken man moaned and mumbled and Trooper Bob knew this wasn’t going to be pretty. He pulled the car door open and the drunk tumbled out into the soggy grass of the ditch and promptly puked.
Trooper Bob was not to be deterred from doing his duty so he grabbed the drunk, we will call Joe the Drunk, by the back of his pants. The drunk was so far gone that he just kind of folded in half and puked again. Trooper Bob handcuffed and half walked half drug the drunken man to the patrol car. Back in those days cars didn’t have shoulder harnesses in fact most didn’t have seat belts. Well if they did you couldn’t find them because they were stuffed way back in the seat. The backseats had no seat belts at all. Yes friends and neighbors this was before Ralph Nader. Trooper Bob being a seasoned officer of the law knew that if he put the drunk in the backseat he would roll around and either get hurt or puke. Trooper Bob hated cleaning vomit out of his trooper mobile so he decided to put the drunken man in the front seat with him. He wrangled the drunk into the seat and decided he had better put the lap seat belt on tight to hold him in place. He got the drunk situated just so and strapped him in tight then he decided he had better go ahead and tie a rope around his chest and the seat to secure him even more so that he wouldn’t hit his head on the dash. He then stowed his gear and drove the bazillion miles to the Bexar County Jail.
Trooper Bob called back to dispatch and told them “I’ll be 10-87 Bexar County Jail. I have a 10-40 and will need to fumigate the vehicle upon exiting” (this means I will be in route to the Jail. I have a dead animal and will need to clean my vehicle after I drop the prisoner off). He drove the winding roller coaster hill country road all the while Joe the Drunk is strapped and tied to the seat swallowing back vomit with every turn. It wasn’t that Joe the Drunk was trying to be polite it was because Trooper Bob told Joe the Drunk he would make him eat any vomit he left in his car. They arrived at the jail and Trooper Bob parked and went around opening Joe’s door. “Git out of the damn car” Trooper Bob barked. Joe the Drunk struggled for a minute to get out then he started to sob. He bawled and he squawled but he didn’t get out of the car. Trooper Bob had enough of Joe and said “What in the hail is wrong with you boy?” Joe sniffed up a big wad of snot and said “That there moonshine done perrylized me! I caint move! I’m an invalid”
Trooper Bob reached in the car and untied the rope and unbuckled the belt and pulled Joe out of the car. Joe started bawling and sniffing again. Trooper Bob sighed and said “Now what is wrong?” Joe looked up at Trooper Bob with his big red watering eyes and said “I love you Trooper Bob you done cured me! I’ll be good from now on I primise!”
That’s how Trooper Bob became the miracle worker. He then walked on water and fed a multitude, not really but that is what Joe the Drunk thought. Trooper Bob then got in his trooper mobile and drove off into the night keying his mike and saying “Trooper Bob is 10-8. The 10-49 had been safely delivered and is 10-7 for the night.” Which meant that he was ready for the next call and the drunk is out of service for the night.


Anonymous said...

I can empathize with Trooper Bob... only in my case it was one of my in-laws dalmations over 20 years ago and I was taking him to the vet instead of jail.

Train Wreck said...

Hello from Las Vegas! Nope no George sighting yet... Don't worry I would find someway to post those pictures! Thanks for the comment, Ireally am trying to keep in touch!

Awesome story. Moonshine...he he!

Girly Stuff said...

I remember when you had lap belts in the front seat. My grandmother complained when they passed the law to wear them. She had a huge yellow Ford with seat belts that had never been used. I don't remember ever being drunk in the front...

Anonymous said...

That was a fun read (not for Joe)...I am glad I never had to be tied to front seat of a police cruiser.

Queenie said...

Wow - you really scared me with your headline: In Maine, a 10-49 is a murder....whew, thank goddess it was a 10:53, Maine's code for a drunk driver. Funny stuff. Thanks.

Becky said...

I guess I need a better way to respond to comments on my blog, but thanks again! Reynaud's is a syndrome connected to several diseases (especially arthritis) where the blood vessels in my fingers constrict and don't allow blood flow--especially when I am cold. The only treatment for it is a daily aspirin, which I already do. Other than that I have to keep gloves on in winter.