Speaking of response times

Writing that last post jogged a memory that I’d pretty much let go:

Several years ago, when I was still smoking, I was sitting on my front porch killing myself in slow motion of an evening when a young gentleman came walking up the street. As he was walking, he pulled a snubby revolver from the small of his back and let a couple of shots fly in the direction he was walking.

He never even looked in my direction so I don’t think he even realized I was sitting there on the porch. I went into the house, got the phone and dialed 911. The first time I dialed, I got a busy signal. The second time, it rang and rang but no one picked up.

As I was dialing, I walked quickly through the house and was on my way through the garage, gun in one hand, phone in the other. My intention was to hurry out to the street and look to see if the perp was still there and if there were any obvious victims that needed help. As I was going through the garage I finally got someone to answer and while I was talking to her, they guy went walking back the other way. I didn’t want to be a hero since no one was in obvious immediate danger so I retreated back into the dark garage as I was giving the 911 operator a play by play. After the guy passed by, I couldn’t see him because there’s a high hedge between the neighbor’s house and mine. After waiting a minute or so to let him get a “safe” distance away, I walked out toward the road until I could see down the street. First, I looked up the direction he’d fired and looked for victims. I saw nothing and no-one. I have no idea what he’d fired at…a moving car???

Anyway, I then turned and looked the other way down the street. I didn’t see the shooter but I did see a car that, in the dark, looked amazingly like a police cruiser pulling out into the road. It was too far away and too dark to see emblems or read markings but I could swear that it had a light bar across the top, backlit by the streetlights behind it.

Now, the guy was not in uniform and was obviously not using a duty weapon, but I wonder if the Sheriff’s office or State Police allow their officers to take their cruisers home in the evenings? Anyway, I related that information to the 911 operator, talked to her some more and then, after she told me officers were on the way and that I didn’t need to stay on the phone any more, I hung up. You know, no police ever showed up. No one came to talk to me or take a report, I saw one police car drive down the road, but they didn’t seem to be looking for anyone or in any particular hurry. I never did figure out what happened. I think I know, but it’s just speculation.

Anyway, they showed a surprising lack of interest in someone firing shots in a heavily populated neighborhood, even with an eyewitness account and a description given while I was looking right at the guy.

In hindsight, I wish I had followed up on it, filed an FOIA request for 911 logs, call logs, communications records that sort of thing to see what exactly went on…but at the time I didn’t know about such things and just figured I’d be ignored. He obviously didn’t hit anyone because I heard no reports about shooting victims in the area so I just wrote it off as “one of those things” that happen in a totalitarian state.

One other time I called the Police it was during broad daylight, a group of about ten or twelve teenage thugs started throwing rocks at me from across the street…I wasn’t doing anything to them, just walking down the street. They were lobbing them in high arcs and then pretending like nothing was going on when they hit and I looked over at them. I think they thought it was funny. Anyway, after the second or third one whistled past my head a bit too close for comfort, I stopped and, while looking at them, pulled my cell phone out and dialed 911. It took them a few seconds, but, after they figured out what I was doing, they took off. The Police never showed up that time either. The funny thing is that I was armed. If I were a bit less stable or slow to anger, I could have easily drawn my .45 and ventilated a couple of them before they had time to even figure out what I was doing. Sometimes what you don’t know CAN hurt you…at least if you have a penchant for throwing rocks at strangers for fun and entertainment.

I know they knew where I lived because they had seen me leave the house. I half expected my car or house to be vandalized sometime over the next few days but nothing ever came of it. Just kids being stupid I guess. I suppose the “Guns Save Lives” and “When in doubt, empty the magazine” bumper stickers on my car may have caused them to have second thoughts about retribution. I guess I’ll never really know.

That is all.

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