3 Strikes ... You're OUT

Just a few experiences from the past

ZONE Six is 10-8 (Police talk for I am on duty)

In just a matter of eight years as a police officer, I had so many various encounters with people, both good and bad, that I thought I would tell a few of the stories.

West Palm Beach Police Department:
A beautiful summer day in south Florida, clear blue skies, summer breeze coming off of the Intracoastal waterway, light traffic and I had just finished my first cup of coffee for the day.

While traveling north on Dixie Highway I fell in behind a vehicle traveling about 55 mph. The speed limit in this area was 35 mph. I followed the green station wagon about eight city blocks and realized it wasn’t going to slow down.

Pulling up behind the vehicle, I turned on my emergency lights and flashed my headlights in an attempt to have the little old lady driving pull over to the curb. This went on for another five blocks without any indication she was aware I was there. Hence… the siren was used. Still no response or acknowledgement that I was there, after another 10 city blocks of lights and siren she managed to notice my presents. She pulled to the right shoulder of the highway and stopped.

I approached the vehicle cautiously and noticed a frail white haired grandmother type woman clutching the steering wheel with both hands, her knuckles were white and she was shacking. After identifying myself as a police officer, calming her down and advising her that she had been speeding, she immediately started yelling that her little green station wagon would not go 55mph and that she could not have been speeding.

Upon retrieving her drivers license I returned to my police cruiser and started to right a speeding ticket. Before I could even get the ticket book opened, I looked up and there she was driving away like nothing had happened. I immediately pursued her for another 8 blocks, with lights and siren, and she finally pulled over.

When I approached and asked her why she had driven away, she said, “I really do not have time to sit around waiting on you. I have shopping to do for this evening's dinner”.
I advised her that she would have to stay there and it would only take about five minutes to issue the citation and she would be free to go on her way. I returned to my vehicle and started to right the citation.

Yep… you guessed it! Looked up from my ticket book and there she was tooling down the highway. So, again I pursued her, but this time I pulled my police cruiser in front of her vehicle (which was definitely against regulations) and stopped her for the third time. I approached her car, reached in and took her keys from the ignition so that she would not be able to drive off this time. She was mortified that I would take her keys and she let me know it in no uncertain terms of endearing adjectives. I was amazed that she knew that many colorful words. Maybe she had been in the Marines or a biker chick at one time.

If that wasn’t enough, she decided that she did not want to sign the traffic citation. When I advised her that dinner would be very late and her husband would be a little disappointed about paying a bondsman to get her out of the city lock-up she finally agreed to sign the ticket and be in court at the appointed time and place.

This was just one of the lighter-sides of my years in Zone Six..