My Early Days in Law Enforcement - Very Early!

Since my brothers and sisters of the Lake Worth Police Dept were reminiscing about the old days it made me think of a story that will be 30 years old this December (my very early days).

I started on December 14th, 1981 and since the police academy didn't start until mid January, I was sent from division to division to get a feel of what each did.  My second week into my new career I received my uniforms.  The following day I spent an hour putting on my new uniform only to later discover I had been diagnosed with terminal NCS (New Cop Syndrome)!

After spending two weeks in the different divisions, the powers to be assigned me to start riding with Road Patrol.  Each day I was put with a different Police Officer.  Most of the time I just kept my mouth shut and watched, however on the third day I was assigned to Officer Stewart "Clint" Winterson.  As I walked out to the "Sally Port" there stood Clint, a man about 6'4" with a muscular build.  He had a days worth of growth on his face and smoked a stubby short cigar.  He had a round hat and was wearing a poncho.  Officer Clint oozed with confidence and coolness.  He stood with a slight lean and tapped his trigger finger on his holster.  I noticed he was carrying a .44 magnum with a 10" barrel!  I walked up to him and swallowed hard, then introduced myself.  Clint (as he had me call him) looked down at me and squinted his eyes - I wasn't sure if I was suppose to bow or open the door for him.  In a raspy deep voice he pulled out the cars keys and tossed them at me and said; You can drive.  I CAN DRIVE I said to myself, a real PO-lice Car.  I think I even giggled like a little school girl as I skipped to the drivers side of the car.

The car as I recall was different than all the rest of the squad cars, which only makes sense since Clint was different than all the rest of the cops too.  The car was jet black and reminded me of the BatMobile with a super-charger sticking out of the hood.  As I started the the car I could feel the power right through the steering wheel.  Clint said; Let's roll.  I took one last look at myself in the rear view mirror and winked, then drove off.

Now it was shift change and the night shift was rolling in as the day shift was rolling out.  We had only driven two blocks and hadn't checked in-service on the radio when I heard the three alert tones come over the radio.  My heart started to pound and sweat rolled down my temple. I heard the dispatcher say: any unit in the area of ____ and ____ a signal 4 (accident) with injuries, respond code 3.  CODE 3, could it be that on my first day driving I was going to go CODE 3!!!  I started turning on everything I could, first the windshield wipers, car stereo, headlights, a/c to max, finally I found the emergency lights and siren as I floored the gas pedal.  Clint, realizing I was driving in the wrong direction asked me where I was going and I responded by shouting; I don't know! (but I was determined to get there and fast - real fast)  Suddenly I heard this loud noise in my right ear; PULL OVER NOW!  As I pulled the car over I spent the next ten minutes trying to turn everything off while Clint yelled up and down at me.  I told him all I heard was "signal 4, code 3".  Clint made me get out and put me in the back of the patrol car, he might of even handcuffed me - I don't remember.  It seemed like I rode back there for hours.  Later he allowed me to sit in the passenger seat as long as I didn't touch anything or speak, oh and I had to buy him lunch also.

Well, that was on a Friday and I had the weekend off to feel super embarrassed about what I did.  On Monday I slithered into the Police Station expecting to get laughed at by everyone including the janitor.  No one said anything, my secret was safe.  I was assigned to another officer that day.  I saw Clint in the Sally Port, he looked at me then looked away.  I suddenly saw him in a different light - like he had an extreme make-over.  He was wearing a uniform like all the others, no round cowboy-hat or poncho and was even carrying a .38 revolver like the rest.  His face was clean shaven, no short cigars.  I noticed he was thinner and not quite as muscular (maybe he fasted over the weekend I thought) and he was not as tall as before - that was probably because he was now wearing those shinny black police shoes instead of his big boots with the spurs on them.

Speaking of those spurred boots, I remember Clint stopping this criminal and grabbing him by the neck and lifting him off the ground.  Clint was strong.  Anyway, he dragged the perp into an alley and interrogated him for a few minutes.  Clint had his spurs at the perp's neck.  I thought he was going to cut his throat from ear to ear.  All I can say is that nine year old boy will think twice about not wearing his helmet while riding his bike.

Thanks for the memories Clint ur I mean Stew.