It is a Friday evening and I find myself on an agency assist and in front of a house patrolled by the university police. I responded for a report of shooting at this residence. What I see is several cars lining the street, a blood trail leading from the sidewalk to the front door, and a university officer just came over the air advising that there was a bloody body lying on a lawn just down the street. I feel as if I just leapt into this like Sam Beckett.
How it started was a call to 911 from a male neighbor living across the street. He told dispatch that a girl ran over to his house and told him someone had just been shot. As a precaution, he took her into his home and barricaded in his bathroom to make the call. Dispatch had a hard time gleaning coherent info so that was not much help. The caller could not give the exact address nor any descriptions of anyone nor anything. It was a good time from the start.
I was there because they were shorthanded due to an unrelated house fire elsewhere on university property occurring simultaneously. It was just my luck that I was available and in the area.
We told dispatch to roll medical for the body down the street. Another officer and I followed the blood trail to the door and announced our presence. The door opened and we were greeted by six (I will be generous and call them) young adults. We see that the blood looks like it was coming from the rear of the house. The place is a mess to say the least.
In my estimation, there are three kinds of officers that work for university police departments:
- Older, probably retired from another department, not in much of a hurry.
- Young, very young, just getting started, looking to get their credentials, possible/probable nepotism involved in getting hired.
- Grade A professional asshole (mostly, if not all males) who cannot make it with a larger and better paying department, with a chip the size of Montana on their shoulder, and willing to scorch the earth…with you or your student-child on it.
When I would respond to university assists, I always seemed to get twos and threes. What can I say? I am just lucky.
In the living room, I see open bottles of alcohol, what is clearly a bong, a cage with two ferrets covered in blood (we’ll get there), and a roomful of underage kids with dumbfounded looks. The officer that entered the house with me was a level 3 university officer. He began by raising his voice and demanding everyone give him their ID’s and asking who lives there. The kids look at us, look at each other, back at us, and a couple start signing to each other.
Every one of these kids was deaf.
Another university officer entered the scene. Fortunately, that officer knew sign language. I told the level 3 hot-head that I was going down the street to the body. Medical had not arrived yet, so it was just the one officer standing nearby with the body.
The officer that found the body was a level 2 university officer. As I walk up, I see the body of a male, late teens, facedown, bloody right arm and bloody shirt, and not moving.
Me: “Did you check his pulse?”
Level 2: “I’m not touching him. Leaving that for medical.”
Me: “How do you know he’s DRT?”
L2: “Doesn’t he look dead to you?”
I checked the guy for a pulse. Strong pulse and shallow breaths. I turn him over and this kid just opens his eyes.
Me: “He’s only mostly dead.”
The young officer did not get the reference or my kind of humor.
The “dead” kid was also deaf.
He had passed out drunk on someone else’s lawn to boot. We got him up and medical arrived to check him out. He was bleeding heavily from his arm, but he was going to be okay. Just to be clear, I have no issue with the deaf or hard of hearing. I believe this situation would have turned out the same even without these kids being deaf.
I got back to the Level 3 officer for the story. It went like this:
Eight total persons at this house party ranging in age from 18-20. All consuming alcohol and partaking of cannabis. One of the ladies at the party had two male suitors, both in attendance. One of these suitors (our Not Dead Guy) had way too much to drink and became upset at his lack of attention from the lady. He left the house and proceeded to his car. He produced a gun from his vehicle and came back into the house to shoot the other male subject.
The girl immediately ran to the neighbor’s house for the 911 call. Unbeknownst to her, it was an airsoft gun. The intended victim ran out of the house to his car out in front of the house. Dead Guy followed him out there and shot at his window. Then he used the butt of the gun and broke the driver side window. He cut his arm open on the shattered glass.
Dead Guy went back in the house and for some undetermined reason, picked up the ferrets. The ferrets now covered in his blood ran about the house painting it red. He then proceeded outside and walked down the street to pass out on the lawn where he was found.
The outcome was several stitches for Not Dead Guy and everyone got a Minor In Possession citation. No arrests, not even a cite for the weed. In fact, this was one of the dumbest calls for service I had ever responded on. A dumb story on a potentially, probably dumb day in the U.S. Senate.
This will be my final header for the foreseeable future. I have enjoyed sharing these with all of you and appreciate all the support you have given me. It has meant so much and I will not forget it. I will still be around from time to time.
I hope Georgia can do the right thing x 2. I also hope that the Senate’s election certification does not become the shit-show that it promises to be. Take care of yourself, be safe, wear a fucking mask, and get vaccinated as soon as you are able.
Goodbye for now.
McSquirrel! Yada, yada, yada!