First Blood

I was assigned to second shift and was still in training with Santa's Helper. The town was obviously divided along racial lines at that time. There was this one housing area that was so bad that we referred to it as ‘Little Vietnam.’ That was a pretty strong label since the men that named it actually served in Vietnam. We only had three or four cars on patrol per shift then and it was SOP that if anyone was dispatched to ‘Little Vietnam’, two cars were sent. We rode ‘two-man’ then so that meant four officers, three to answer the call and one to stay with the patrol cars. If you left the car out of your sight, when you returned you would be missing the lens off your blue lights or a tire would be flat. It was general harassment telling us that we were not welcome there.

It was the middle of summer, hot, steaming hot! It was the kind of heat that you only experience in the south, temperatures during the day reached high 90’s or even low 100’s with 90% humidity. At night, the temperatures wouldn’t dip below the mid 80’s. Even the dew would turn into steam. Put on polyester over a thick bulletproof vest with combat boots and you feel like your wearing a wet swimsuit that covers you from neck to toe. The cloth would literally stick to you so when you walked it would pull against your skin.

We got a stabbing call in ‘Little Vietnam’ and all the other units were busy. Santa’s Helper said that they would clear someone up and dispatch them as soon as they could. The ambulance wouldn’t go in until we were on scene, so off we went. When we pulled in, we could barely drive up the street because there were so many people there. Everyone was out in the street. We drove as far as we could and then got out of the car. People were mad, yelling that a white man had no business in their project. We thought they were talking about us but they were talking about the victim.

Finally, someone pointed the way to the victim. We made our way through the crowd to him. A white male known to us as James T. was on the ground. James T. was one of our local winos and was one of the most aggravating people that I ever met. He was one of the few winos that had an apartment. He got a check because of some type medical problem, he had a severe lisp and it was difficult to understand him. He was very popular at the first of the month when his money came in. He would invite people over like Blind Mary and One-Arm Dotson. Everyone would get drunk and the money would disappear. He would then call the police department twenty times a night for several nights complaining that someone stole his money; someone would not get out of his house, and such.

James T. was on the ground with his neck cut from one ear across his lower jaw to the other ear. A stream of blood as thick as my little finger was squirting out of the side of his neck with every heartbeat. Santa’s Helper told me to watch his back and bent down to try to stop the bleeding. It was a mess; blood was on the walls and pooling under him. I had my back to the apartment wall. Santa’s Helper was kneeling in front of me working on James T. The apartments were in a u-shape and we were in the base of the u. Close to 600 people were crowded up against us. It was hot! I was nervous! I don’t do well with the sight of blood and do even worse seeing ripped open flesh. James T. had been drinking so his blood that smells bad enough additionally had the odor of alcohol obtained from Bay Rum or Vanilla Extract. There was NO breeze! The smell of hot sweaty people, blood, and alcohol was getting to me. I made the mistake of looking down to see how Santa’s Helper was doing. BAD IDEA! My vision started closing in on me, I felt light headed, oh shit…I think that I might pass out. I was responsible for protecting Santa’s Helper! He could not save James T. and watch his own back at the same time. That was when I started the talk…blocking out those things that I could not handle…so that I could maintain. Somehow, my mind makes the images go black and white, smells dull, and I focus.

The ambulance finally got there. They snatched up James T. and hauled his ass to the hospital. We talked to a couple of witnesses and got the hell out of Dodge. I was never so glad to see an ambulance in my life. James T. actually survived. I am not sure how but he did. According to the ER doctor, he would have bleed to death had Santa’s Helper not slowed down the bleeding.

Just another day at the office.