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DEC 2021 Blues Vol 37 No. 12

  • Text
  • Wwwbluespdmagcom
  • Crumbley
  • Citizens
  • Agencies
  • Tcole
  • Moody
  • November
  • Charger
  • Finner
  • Enforcement
  • Blues
DEC 2021 Blues Vol 37 No. 12 SPECIAL INSERT: HOLIDAY GIFT GUIDE FEATURES * The Christmas That Almost Wasn’t * Remembering Those We’ve Lost - Sgt Richard Houston * Remembering Those We’ve Lost to COVID * Remembering Those We’ve Lost to LOD Deaths * Troy Finner - Police Chief of the Year 2021 * Who Wants To Be A Cop Part 8 - Conclusion DEPARTMENTS * Publisher’s Thoughts * Editor’s Thoughts * Guest Editorial w/Dave Smith * Your Thoughts * News Around the US * War Stories * Aftermath * Open Road-The Final Cop Sedan? * Healing Our Heroes * Daryl’s Deliberations * HPOU-From the President, Douglas Griffith * Light Bulb Award * Running 4 Heroes * Blue Mental Health with Tina Jaeckle * Off Duty with Rusty Barron * Parting Shots * Now Hiring - L.E.O. Positions Open in Texas * Back Page -School of Glock

The following story is

The following story is true. No names were changed because no innocent people were involved. My story takes place on Christmas Eve many years ago. I had been a cop for more than 30 years and was a Lieutenant assigned to nights. With all the time I had in I could have been on days with weekends off and pushing paper all day, but I’d spent my entire life on the street. It was where I felt more comfortable. It was my home, I guess. My kids were all grown, and I had 4 failed marriages behind me. Yeah, I could retire but I had absolutely nothing to retire to. The streets were my home and I couldn’t see myself anywhere else….working or otherwise. Hell, if I weren’t a cop, I’d probably be homeless living on the streets. But despite my acceptance of being here forever, the weeks leading up to the night of this story were what seemed like the beginning of the end for me. Sounds confusing, I know, but let me start from the beginning. It was early December in the late 80’s. Like I said I was the lieutenant assigned to nights and in our department the nightshift lieutenant was pretty much the night sheriff. I was in charge of everybody and everything. But I had been doing it so long that it really didn’t seem like that big of a deal anymore. BY LT. BOB EVANS But more of all the ole heads were retiring and every day I had increased youngsters showing up at roll call. The sheriff decided that in order to fill vacancies he would accept lateral transfers from other departments. Since we paid more than the surrounding departments these kids (actually young men and women in their late 20’s) came over in droves. Everyday there was someone new and of course they all came to nights. The latest transfer was this young man from a PD up north. A real go getter. Reminded me of me at that age. His name was Randy Jones. Jones was married and had just had a brand-new baby girl. Wasn’t even 3 weeks old. The boy posted pictures of that girl all over the station. He was the proud papa for sure. But he was from a PD and this was the sheriff’s department. We did things differently and Jones had his own idea about how it ‘should’ be done. I had to sit that boy down several times during those first few weeks and just say look, ‘If you want to stay here and be successful you have to follow the book. Otherwise, I’m going to have to talk to the sheriff and send you back to the PD.” Broke my heart because he was really a good kid just stubborn. Reminded me when I started. The dayshift sergeant moved him to days for a week, just to teach him OUR ways. Now here it was Christmas Eve and Jones was back at working the nightshift with me again. Anyway, it was about 3am when a silent alarm dropped in a warehouse on the northside of the district. I was only a couple blocks away and Jones must have been sitting in the parking lot because he advised he was about to go out on it. I advised dispatch I was backing him up and was a couple minutes out. Jones arrived and advised he had an open rear door, as I was pulling up to the rear. We agreed we would clear the building starting towards the right and work our way to the front. This was one of those flex space warehouse with storage on the back and offices in the front and they weren’t really that large. As soon as we stepped inside, we heard movement near the front. Other than our flashlights, it was pitch black in the damn place. Suddenly a bright piercing light following by a deafening boom appeared in front of us….we were taking fire from multiple locations. I was literally firing into the dark. I just kept firing in the direction of the muzzle blast until there weren’t anymore. I stood there in the dark, shining my flashlight to see what or who was there and 20 feet away I saw two bodies on the ground, blood now running across the bare concrete. Unit 204 I have shots fired and two suspects down. I need EMS and backup. Where is Jones? “Jones?” “Unit 204 to Jones, where are you? “Jones where the fuck are you? I began running all over the warehouse to see where he was and as soon as I turned a corner, there he was. Laying in a pool of blood. “Officer down, officer down, Unit 204 I have an officer down.” Jones? As soon as I knelt down, I could see that a round had hit him in the neck and struck an artery. He had bled out in seconds. The first round those assholes fired went right through the thin portion wall and hit him. He was down within seconds of us entering that room. He never said a word. He didn’t get a chance to fire a single shot. Somehow by the grace of God, I hit both the suspects in the dark and they both went down as well. I was the lone survivor. That’s a term I would hear over and over again. Within seconds, I had deputies arriving from all over. Sirens. I could hear sirens everywhere. Ringing in my ears and sirens. The scene was just so surreal. Dust. Red and blue lights bouncing off the walls. Blood running across the bare concrete floors. Bodies motionless on the floor. And this young deputy at my side. I just sat there and waited for the EMTs. “Lieutenant…Lieutenant… Lieutenant….?” “What??” “Sir you need to get up and let them work on Jones.” I stood up and watched the EMTs from the firehouse squad that was just blocks from here begin working on him, but they stopped really before they started. There was nothing they could do. He was gone. I notified dispatch to send me detectives, crime scene and notify the sheriff. But I WAS the night sheriff and I knew what I had to do. It was my job to notify the next of kin, spouses or parents of 36 The BLUES POLICE MAGAZINE The BLUES POLICE MAGAZINE 37

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