This guest blog is inspired by true events...Perspiration was dripping heavily from the brow of the olive skinned youth. The sweet sting of salt pierced his eyelids. He had taken the cops on a reckless chase down one of the City's busiest street. He could hear the fast approaching sirens and the screeching of tires. After bouncing his SUV off a plastic encased bus stop and weaving in and out of a grocery store parking lot...he knew it was time. Damnit! Why was he is this predictament? Afterall, he was a tough street thug who had no fear whatsoever. He was Almighty God when he would pull the trigger and end someone's life. He ruled the streets that he called home. People feared him. He demanded respect as a gang member. The reality was that even though he had the body of man...he was just a "kid" who thought the entire world should revolve around him. And they would. He was like Scarface...only badder. Slamming the brakes to a halt he quickly observed the squad doors open...it was time to run. There were two cops to escape. Within seconds, he mentally calculated the younger female would stay with the car. She was driving. He only had to outrun the much older salt and pepper haired male. Shouldn't be too hard he surmised, the veteran cop was wearing a vest, gun belt, radio, wooden baton and a thick heavy black leather jacket. Fuck, this will be too easy. Afterall...the youth, "kid", was only nineteen he reasoned.
The hunt has begun the cop thought to himself. The "kid" had at least 20 feet ahead of him. Don't stop. You can't let this motherfucker get away! There is a reason why this subject endangered himself and others with his vehicle and there sure as hell is a reason why he's fleeing you now. As the cop ran he coarsely gave out directions of flight to oncoming units. He was gaining on the kid...he could sense the "kid" was wearing down. Shit, back in his early Infantry days he would have caught the subject by now...but this was almost 20 yrs later. With all the gear on the cop it would be a miracle if he could see the bottom of the "kid's" shoes. Struggling for air, the cop observed the "kid" round a corner into an alley. By now other cops were searching the block..the subject would be caught! Where the fuck did he go? I'm in this alley and he is like a ghost. Gone. The veteran cop cursed himself for losing his subject. Loud voices came from a yard within the alley about two houses down. The "kid"..had to be him! Sharply rounding the corner he could see the "kid" coming towards his partner with a large knife. He can hear the partner ordering the subject to put the knife down, but the now the "kid" is advancing forward taunting the young officer. Although the cop can see assisting units coverging into the backyard, running towards their fellow officer via the gangway, he knows he has little time to make a decision. Nobody is taking a shot at the "kid". The chances are too great the officer in peril would be hit. He hopes his partner will shoot, but it is to no avail. Damnit! He thought as he took a running "blind leap" over the alley's wall...there's no time to wait! Besides the landing can't be more than 6ft, right? His answer quickly came as he felt his knees violently collide with a mixture of dirt rock and gravel. Instantly pain unlike anything the officer felt before resonated through his body. He couldn't feel his lower extremities. Get up! No time to wait! Bouncing up the officer dove directly at the "kid" who managed, up until that moment, to evade his grasp. Slamming shoulder to shoulder with another officer the officers bodyweight pushed the subject to the ground. The fight was on. They could hear the "kid" ranting about not being afraid to die and that there was no way he was going back to jail. The officers were instantly met with knee strikes and elbows to their torsos. Now the older officer was feeling the familiar stinging of numbness as he felt his knuckles whiten like a large rock to smash the head of the kid. Nothing. The kid kept kicking, biting, punching wildly. Then the horrifying words spewed forth from the assisting officer. Hey, this guy is grabbing my holster! He's going for my gun! Fight! Don't let this motherfucker end your life. Immediately the older officer cracked the assailant in the skull with his wooden baton. This called for a drastic measure. The "kid" kept pulling at the holster. Several more sharp strikes to the kid's torso...finally compliance. The subject slowly sunk downward and began to place his arms out to his sides. He winced in pain as the first cuff locked onto his bony wrist. He could feel his other arm contorted to meet the other silver cuff. The fight was over. The older veteran stood up and took a few steps backward. Something wasn't right? He clutched at his vest...too heavy..can't breathe...feeling as though five pounds was pressing onto his chest cavity. Dizziness came over. Turned a ghastly white. Again no feeling in the arms and legs. With a few deep breaths..the officer collapsed. Within minutes, the officer could feel hands around his body. He was being carried by his fellow officers. He could hear yelling...lots of yelling. Sirens everywhere. This was bad. Upon arrival at the ER it became apparent to the staff that the veteran officer was having a heart attack. A mild one, but a heart attack nonetheless. Instantly breathing became impossible for the officer. Cold chills and numbness overtook him. His chest felt like it was going to explode. Pain unlike anything ever felt. No feeling in the arms. His clothes quickly stripped. He could see the large purplish bruises around his left knee surrounded by redness. Blood trickled from the kneecap. More pain. He wanted to vomit but couldn't. Nothing but extreme chest pain engulfed his torso. Instantly, he given IV's nitroglycerine, cipromax, morphine and other drugs he couldn't pronounce. Air...needed air. Oxygen was delivered quickly through his flaring nostrils. His chest heaved..he could feel the familiar ache within his arms. Staff were congratulating him and each other. Thankfully, he had survived the onset of his heart attack. Hours later, he would learn that the subject he was chasing had two investigative alerts for Agg. Battery with a handgun. One of his victims was in critical condition and was brain dead. It would be a homicide with a day or so. Meanwhile, the subject himself was at another hospital bragging about how how bad he was. He didn't let the sixteen new charges affect his bravado. He told them cops how he wasn't going to ever go back to jail. They just didn't want to listen. Also unknown to the officers was the fact that in his SUV was a girlfriend and their 6 week old baby. Mercifully, they survived the "kid's" erratic behavior and were now safe. Months later...after sveral weeks of heart monitoring and testing it is learned via MRI that veteran officer has a torn meniscus and ligaments in his left knee. The City which he proudly has defended for over nine years has decided to deny his knee surgery twice. An appeal has been sent...Ahh, the City that works. Hardly any co-workers visit or check on him. He's old news. Just a number. He cringes when he hears the reason for his denial for surgery. He doesn't need to be able to run again. As long as he can answer phones, he can do the job. The job? He remembers his many arrests of dangerous felons throughout the years...murders,sex crimes, robberies, hijackings, domestic batteries...the crimes go on and on. He thinks to himself was the intestinal fortitude worth it? He survived over thirty combat missions deep in the mountains of Afghanistan against a highly trained, formidable enemy. He remembers the small arms fire, IED attacks, mortars and rockets, death of his buddies. Pain. Anguish. Feelings of ineptitude. Survivor's guilt. Was it worth carrying on like a good soldier? Was almost ceasing to live because of a "blind leap" fair to his loving wife and children? The question lingers on in the warrior's mind...\,,/
The hunt has begun the cop thought to himself. The "kid" had at least 20 feet ahead of him. Don't stop. You can't let this motherfucker get away! There is a reason why this subject endangered himself and others with his vehicle and there sure as hell is a reason why he's fleeing you now. As the cop ran he coarsely gave out directions of flight to oncoming units. He was gaining on the kid...he could sense the "kid" was wearing down. Shit, back in his early Infantry days he would have caught the subject by now...but this was almost 20 yrs later. With all the gear on the cop it would be a miracle if he could see the bottom of the "kid's" shoes. Struggling for air, the cop observed the "kid" round a corner into an alley. By now other cops were searching the block..the subject would be caught! Where the fuck did he go? I'm in this alley and he is like a ghost. Gone. The veteran cop cursed himself for losing his subject. Loud voices came from a yard within the alley about two houses down. The "kid"..had to be him! Sharply rounding the corner he could see the "kid" coming towards his partner with a large knife. He can hear the partner ordering the subject to put the knife down, but the now the "kid" is advancing forward taunting the young officer. Although the cop can see assisting units coverging into the backyard, running towards their fellow officer via the gangway, he knows he has little time to make a decision. Nobody is taking a shot at the "kid". The chances are too great the officer in peril would be hit. He hopes his partner will shoot, but it is to no avail. Damnit! He thought as he took a running "blind leap" over the alley's wall...there's no time to wait! Besides the landing can't be more than 6ft, right? His answer quickly came as he felt his knees violently collide with a mixture of dirt rock and gravel. Instantly pain unlike anything the officer felt before resonated through his body. He couldn't feel his lower extremities. Get up! No time to wait! Bouncing up the officer dove directly at the "kid" who managed, up until that moment, to evade his grasp. Slamming shoulder to shoulder with another officer the officers bodyweight pushed the subject to the ground. The fight was on. They could hear the "kid" ranting about not being afraid to die and that there was no way he was going back to jail. The officers were instantly met with knee strikes and elbows to their torsos. Now the older officer was feeling the familiar stinging of numbness as he felt his knuckles whiten like a large rock to smash the head of the kid. Nothing. The kid kept kicking, biting, punching wildly. Then the horrifying words spewed forth from the assisting officer. Hey, this guy is grabbing my holster! He's going for my gun! Fight! Don't let this motherfucker end your life. Immediately the older officer cracked the assailant in the skull with his wooden baton. This called for a drastic measure. The "kid" kept pulling at the holster. Several more sharp strikes to the kid's torso...finally compliance. The subject slowly sunk downward and began to place his arms out to his sides. He winced in pain as the first cuff locked onto his bony wrist. He could feel his other arm contorted to meet the other silver cuff. The fight was over. The older veteran stood up and took a few steps backward. Something wasn't right? He clutched at his vest...too heavy..can't breathe...feeling as though five pounds was pressing onto his chest cavity. Dizziness came over. Turned a ghastly white. Again no feeling in the arms and legs. With a few deep breaths..the officer collapsed. Within minutes, the officer could feel hands around his body. He was being carried by his fellow officers. He could hear yelling...lots of yelling. Sirens everywhere. This was bad. Upon arrival at the ER it became apparent to the staff that the veteran officer was having a heart attack. A mild one, but a heart attack nonetheless. Instantly breathing became impossible for the officer. Cold chills and numbness overtook him. His chest felt like it was going to explode. Pain unlike anything ever felt. No feeling in the arms. His clothes quickly stripped. He could see the large purplish bruises around his left knee surrounded by redness. Blood trickled from the kneecap. More pain. He wanted to vomit but couldn't. Nothing but extreme chest pain engulfed his torso. Instantly, he given IV's nitroglycerine, cipromax, morphine and other drugs he couldn't pronounce. Air...needed air. Oxygen was delivered quickly through his flaring nostrils. His chest heaved..he could feel the familiar ache within his arms. Staff were congratulating him and each other. Thankfully, he had survived the onset of his heart attack. Hours later, he would learn that the subject he was chasing had two investigative alerts for Agg. Battery with a handgun. One of his victims was in critical condition and was brain dead. It would be a homicide with a day or so. Meanwhile, the subject himself was at another hospital bragging about how how bad he was. He didn't let the sixteen new charges affect his bravado. He told them cops how he wasn't going to ever go back to jail. They just didn't want to listen. Also unknown to the officers was the fact that in his SUV was a girlfriend and their 6 week old baby. Mercifully, they survived the "kid's" erratic behavior and were now safe. Months later...after sveral weeks of heart monitoring and testing it is learned via MRI that veteran officer has a torn meniscus and ligaments in his left knee. The City which he proudly has defended for over nine years has decided to deny his knee surgery twice. An appeal has been sent...Ahh, the City that works. Hardly any co-workers visit or check on him. He's old news. Just a number. He cringes when he hears the reason for his denial for surgery. He doesn't need to be able to run again. As long as he can answer phones, he can do the job. The job? He remembers his many arrests of dangerous felons throughout the years...murders,sex crimes, robberies, hijackings, domestic batteries...the crimes go on and on. He thinks to himself was the intestinal fortitude worth it? He survived over thirty combat missions deep in the mountains of Afghanistan against a highly trained, formidable enemy. He remembers the small arms fire, IED attacks, mortars and rockets, death of his buddies. Pain. Anguish. Feelings of ineptitude. Survivor's guilt. Was it worth carrying on like a good soldier? Was almost ceasing to live because of a "blind leap" fair to his loving wife and children? The question lingers on in the warrior's mind...\,,/
