For the active or retired LEO (federal, state, or local) on here, I offer this rare SAS frame P228 that was made only in late 2009, in near mint condition. SRT (Short Reset Trigger) was installed by previous owner. Comes complete with 3x 13-rounders, in the original case.
If you care to share any interesting LE story, it will be fun to read.
The Karmanator will pick the winner some time later in the month.
This message has been edited. Last edited by: 12131,
Obviously, not entering...
I just wanted to stop in and say thanks for everything you do for the members here!
|hello darkness |
my old friend
Wow! Lucky #1, Thanks for the chance. I stated as a state Corrections officer in Arizona. Moved on to a federal leo position in Texas. Left that to move with the wife because of her job. Now I am a City police officer here in Utah with 22 years LEO of experience.
|3° that never cooled|
Put me in Q. Approx. 33 years full time, and a few more as a reserve afterward.
COTEP #640, NRA Life
Just started my 12th year with a Sheriff’s Office in Northern California.
Possibly the most fun and frustrating job on the planet. I get paid pretty damn well to do stuff that most people watch on TV or pay good money to experience.
About this time last year I had a guy on a crotch-rocket type motorcycle flee from me. He took off before I even lit him up and the the last I saw he was disappearing at what had to be 140 mph on a 35 mph street.
He thought he was free and clear but he didn’t realize that he and I had history. The same bike, with bright green wheels, rattle can fairings, and dual carbon fiber exhausts exiting under the seat, has run from me three years earlier and gotten away when my sad little V6 Explorer realized it was just a dressed up mom-wagon and was completely out-classed.
That bike ditched my partners and I three more times in the next three weeks, but got nabbed later by the CHP after the rider jumped off and tried to hotfoot through a vineyard. The rider went to jail and was released a few months later with probation. Fucking California.
Fast-forwad back to last year and the same crotch-rocket again speeding away from me. I watched him race away again and heard the exhaust fade. But this time, instead of spending the rest of the night fuming and cursing motorcycle pursuits, I drove to the suspect’s house and parked around the corner. I stood in the shadows for a couple minutes before lo and behold, a rattle can black bike with mint green wheels pulled into the gated driveway.
I stepped out of the dark, called the rider by name and told him to shut his bike off. He responded by gunning the bike down the driveway into the depths of the 5 acre property. I followed on foot and started a 10 minute game of chicken.
In order to get back off the property, he had to get past me on the single lane driveway and wait while the electric gate swung back open. He proceeded to ride back and forth between the driveway and the lawn, getting more and more frustrated with every pass.
I was still by myself, one of the disadvantages of patrolling a 400 square mile beat with one partner. As the lights from my partner’s car came into view, the rider turned his bike and rode to the back of the property. He began riding parallel to a barbed wire fence and a drainage ditch, looking for an exit that wasn’t there.
When he got to the end of the fence, he turned around, gunned the bike and began speeding back towards me, the driveway, and freedom. My only advantage in this spot was that it was the end of what had been a very wet and rainy December in Northern California, and he was riding a souped up street bike with race tires on what amounted to a big mud puddle with some grass poking through.
I quickly realized that he wasn’t bluffing about getting past me, and I reached back to my glory days as a high school defensive end and moved to chase him down.
As he tried to ride past me at about 20 mph, I did my best Terry Tate Office Linebacker impression and speared him as he went past. My “love tap” caused a glorious whiskey throttle which sent the bike and the rider spinning into the mud.
I got him into handcuffs and managed to not get bit by his six dogs or slapped by his 250 lb sister who ran out to his rescue wearing only a towel.
The Calvary arrived shortly thereafter and he went to jail, his bike went to bike jail, and his sister went to Juvie after she chest-bumped my beat partner.
Kind of a long story, but it was more than a little interesting.
Thanks for the karma opportunity.
Please include me in your extremely generous karma and thanks for the chance at Sig’s all around best pistol ever. 26 years in and still going.
I was running radar one evening and stopped a kid running about 20 over. As soon as I got up to his window the smell of weed hit me. About that time the dispatcher tells me the registered owner has an active warrant for a failure to appear for assault. The physical description clearly wasn’t the driver.
Turns out the driver was suspended and a minor to boot. I asked him who the car belonged to and he said it was his uncle. Could he give me the uncles phone number? Sure he could.
I called and described the situation with the teen and said he wasn’t the owner and that I needed to release it to the registered owner to avoid towing it- I never mentioned any names. I told him to bring ID. He said he’d be right down and showed up 10 minutes later. As soon as I verified who he was, I hooked him up on the warrant much to his surprise. He was a good sport about the whole thing so I let his sister take his car home rather than impound it. First time I’d ever had an arrested deliver himself
"Live every day as if it's going to be your last, and one day, you'll be right.”
|Raised Hands Surround Us|
Three Nails To Protect Us
I’d like a chance at this generous karma!!
Probably one of the most unbelievable stories I’ve got.
1st Thanksgiving working on my own and working nights of course.
I get called to my first stabbing I am the first on the scene and find a fella on the front porch with quite the knife sticking out his chest. He is up and conscious. I asked who stabbed him and he said his wife. I asked where she was and he advised inside. I step inside to find the wife calmly sitting in the recliner. I asked the wife what happened and she replied he told me to stab him.
Asked her to share a little more detail. She said she went to change the station on the TV and her husband said she would have to stab him if she wanted to change the station. She said I got up went to the kitchen, grabbed a knife, stabbed him, and changed the station.
I went back out to the husband and asked for more detail and sure enough he said she wanted to change the channel and I was enjoying my show so I said if she wanted to change the station she would have to stab me to get me out of here.
This lady had no clue what she had done was wrong and could not figure out why she was going to jail.
Everybody’s got a blank page. A story they’re writing today. A wall that they’re climbing. You can carry the past on your shoulders.
Or you can start over.
Regrets, no matter what you goin’ through. Jesus, He gave it all to save you. He carried the cross on His shoulders. So you can start over.
Please and thank you!
One night we chased a guy out of his car into a bar and he disappeared. We asked the bartender if she saw anyone running in and she said she didn't see "dude" (whatever his name was, i can't remember, it was her boyfriend). So we're yelling at her and I see the freezer door ajar. So I go in and arrest him. The next day, she's up at the station filing a complaint because the officer was rude to her and yelling at her, but the chinese officer was nice and just smiled at her. I laughed and said, you got it wrong, I was the one yelling at you.
I get away with a lot more since I'm always smiling at people, even when I'm screaming stop resisting.
Not minority enough!
|Fly High, A.J.|
Please include me in this generous karma for a beautiful pistol. I retired August 1 after 28 years. My story:
As a young rookie officer, I had the opportunity to work with the DEA Task Force at the CVG Airport from '93-'96. One day we intercepted a package of cocaine headed to a northern Cincy suburb via Fedex. We arranged delivery with a DEA agent dressed as the Fedex driver and dropped the package at the front door of the residence. The house was mid-block, and I was set up in a van on a perpendicular street waiting for the target to retrieve the package.
The bad guy grabbed the package off the porch and headed into the back yard. My partner and I bailed out of the van and set out to intercept him. We had to traverse the back yards of 3 or 4 houses to get to the target house, and all of the yards were fenced in with waist high chain link. I crossed the first yard by climbing over the fence, which slowed me down. In the second yard, I noticed a bench sitting alongside the fence and decided to use it to "vault" over the fence. I hit it on a dead run, and when my weight hit it, the bench toppled over. This caused me to lose my balance as I went over. I rolled forward, dropped my shoulder, and executed a perfect shoulder roll. I came up onto my feet very proud of myself and continued on to the target house where we arrested the suspect. What I didn't find out until later was that there was an open gate about 3 feet to the left of the bench that my partner casually went through. In my excitement and tunnel vision, I completely missed it. My partner, a much more "seasoned" officer, gave me lots a grief over incident. Something about a young bull and an old bull..
|my existence, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, saves lives|
I’m in. Thanks
"I don't own the night, I only operate a small franchise" - Author unknown
|Not One of |
the Cool Kids
Wow. That's incredibly generous.
I was almost kind of a shit magnet. I had about five years on and was working with a bunch of young guys on the weekend night shift. I could have used seniority to have better days off, but I relish the role of mentor. One of the guys we'll call Gary was one of the young guys. He was and is charismatic and funny; the kind of guy who could say anything and never catch a complaint.
I got sent to a male lying in the roadway on a busy four-lane road at 0200. It was dispatched as an injury accident. I arrived to find a drunk passed out in a puddle of his own urine and vomit right on the double yellow line. He wasn't injured but was unconscious. I tried all the usual tricks including a good, solid sternum rub and got no response. The ambulance and fire departments arrived and started working on him right as Gary drove up. Keep in mind, the lights, sirens and diesel engines were overwhelming at the scene. Gary leaned over to me and whispered, "that's a pathetic sack of shit right there." Right then, the drunk sat straight up, looked at my ME and said, "you can't talk about me like that!" He looked at my name tag and somehow was able to read it perfectly.
After he got to the hospital, almost immediately, the sergeant got on the radio and called me in to the station. The ambulance crew had let them use their cell phone to call and complain on me. Thankfully, Gary got on the radio and told the sgt. he was the one he was looking for.
That's kind of a good analogy for my career as a cop. I made it a point to get promoted as soon as possible.
Not eligible so not entering. Just wanted to thank 12131 for his continued overwhelming generosity and support of our LEO community.
I would love to be included in this generous Karma.
I have been working for just over 13 years now. I had a fella in a wheel chair who was an amputee below the knee and highly intoxicated on pills and alcohol.
He pointed his stump at me called me a "mangina" and questioned my manhood in other various ways. Then in his infinite wisdom grabbed my taser and attempted to unholster it.
I punched him in the face and it sounded like two 2x4's being slapped together. The force of the blow sent him and the wheel chair backwards.
That story still get brought up on occasion almost 4 years later. The sgt. at the time who is a current lieutenant still can't believe that I was able to get the word "mangina" in the report and use it in open court.
|Fly High, A.J.|
Please include me in your generous Karma for a gorgeous pistol. I retired August 1 after a career of 28 years. Lots of interesting stories, many more that aren't very interesting. I typed one out earlier, and it somehow disappeared, so I'll try another:
As a rookie officer, I had the unique opportunity that few officers got and usually only came later in their careers. From 1993 to 1996 I was assigned to work in the DEA Task Force at the CVG Aiport. One day we trailed a suspect to a hotel in a neighboring county and set up surveillance. I was with the back up units several blocks away at a different hotel. We were waiting by our cars when we noticed a Cadillac speed into the lot and into a parking spot in the back. A man and a woman got out and started toward the hotel at a fast pace. I made a joking comment that the man must be suffering from DSB--Deadly Sperm Buildup. Just then, a Lincoln came into the lot, aimed for the man and woman, and accelerated. It hit the man, sending him over the hood with his wristwatch flying off his arm. The driver got out, ran to and grabbed the woman, and cocked his fist back to hit her. My partner and I ran over, and the Lincoln driver found himself staring down the barrels of two Glocks.
The story came out that the Lincoln driver and the woman were boyfriend and girlfriend who had been drinking in a nearby bar when they met the Cadillac driver. The Lincoln driver and the woman got in a fight over her flirting with the Cadillac driver. The Lincoln driver went to the bathroom, and the woman left with the Cadillac driver for a tryst at his hotel. The Cadillac driver refused to press charges, insisting that he wasn't injured or that he had even been struck by the car (despite him flying over the hood). The woman didn't want to press charges because after the incident she knew how much the Lincoln driver loved her.
We called the local department, and the Lincoln driver was arrested on a warrant, the Lincoln was towed, the woman caught a cab somewhere, and the Cadillac driver went into the hotel to nurse the wounds he didn't get when the Lincoln didn't hit him.
|Novice Elk Harvester|
What a generous offer, please include me, sir!
I have a ton of stories, but for the past year, I have been assigned to the sexual assault unit, specifically involving child victims. I have two young kids and it can be emotionally draining. However, we investigated a case on a guy who repeatedly sexually assaulted his best friend's boys when they were extremely young. It went to trial a couple weeks ago, the jury found him guilty on all counts, and he's going to spend the rest of his miserable existence in prison.
The feeling when we told those kids the outcome, combined with their reaction, is something that I cannot express with words alone, and it's only available in this line of work.
"SUCCESS only comes before WORK in the dictionary"
|Cut and plug|
I gotta say that you guys have the best stories. Thanks for taking care of them Q.
I’ll add my thanks from the fire side. I appreciate you guys a ton. While y’all are as slow as molasses in December to most things and sure can make a mess with parking where I need to put the Engine. When it hits the fan there is nothing more comforting than PD raining down on my scene to protect my guys and save the day.
|Fighting the good fight|
Thanks for the Karma! Please add me to the list. I'm coming up on 15 years... Just over halfway to retirement.
One of my favorite work-related funny stories involves a certain notably straight-laced Judge. (It's even funnier if you're familiar with this specific Judge.) I was sitting in court waiting to testify in a case, and the Judge was hearing a prior case involving a young lady. This young lady had a poor attitude, flipping her hair and rolling her eyes through the hearing.
The Judge, who is typically very formal and proper, was giving her ruling, which involved a very minor sentence. All of a sudden, the Judge's eyes bulged out, her face flashed red, and she yelled out "WHAT THE FUCK?! I'LL TELL YOU WHAT THE FUCK! 30 DAYS IN JAIL, THAT'S WHAT THE FUCK!"
Everyone, from the lawyers to the court reporter to the other defendants to the other officers, snapped their heads up in shock, trying to figure out why this formal Judge just lost her damn mind in the middle of court!
After the young lady was cuffed and led off, the Judge then calmly explained that as she was giving her ruling pertaining to the very minor sentence, the young lady had yet again rolled her eyes, plus muttered "What the fuck?" under her breath. Nobody but the Judge heard it, apparently. And that was the proverbial straw the broke the camel's back, with regards to the Judge's patience. But for a second, we were convinced that this Judge was in the midst of an inexplicable mental breakdown.
Please enter me. I retired on 12/31 after 35 years carrying a badge.
Story 1: My surveillance team were waiting for a courier who was delivering a large shipment of MDMA (Ecstasy) pills to a buyer. he got off the train and we were amazed to find out he was in a motorized wheelchair. We put in the follow and watched him go into a nearby hotel. One of the team went in with him and got the room number. After he went up in the elevator we got the manager to come up to the room with the pass key. We gave it a couple or 5 minutes to let the meeting get under way, then hit the door.
When we got in, our target (male) was on the bed getting a BJ from the buyer (also male), fortunately the buyer didn't bite down. We found 15000 MDMA tabs sewn into the chair seat.
Story 2: Out on patrol one spring night I saw a car driving extremely slowly on a US Highway (SL of 55mph) and weaving around in the lane. "DWI" thinks I and whips round and stops it. When I got to the driver's window I find a young lady in floods of tears. 'What's up?' says I. 'I'm trying to avoid the frogs on the road, but I keep running them over' she sobbed. It was the height of the froggy mating season and they were, like, everywhere, man. I checked her out to make sure she wasn't tripping, but she was genuinely distraught over the genocide (Frogicide?) she was committing. I explained that there was no shortage of frogs in our county and she was likely to get smoked by a grain truck who gave two shits less about frogs and sent her on her way with a warning.
And that's just two tales.
All I know is that 12131 has to be the most generous guy on the Internet.
I'm in. I always have trouble coming up with a story on demand so I'll steal one.
A guy I work with was a pretty new boot and ended up needing to get an after hours search warrant. We don't have 24 hour courts, so that meant driving to a judge's house to swear out the warrant. Our hero presents the warrant to the judge who says "looks good" and raises his right hand to administer the oath. New guy high-fives the judge, not having any idea why else he would have raised his hand. Judge said it was worth getting out of bed just for that.
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