Case #21 - The People vs Steve Williams (what do you get when you cross methamphetamine with wayde farrell)
Case #21 - The People vs Steve Williams (what do you get when you cross methamphetamine with wayde farrell)
In 1991, I was working with my little unlucky charm, Steve Williams. We were working unit 169 in the Torrance strip. I don't recall if it was Day shift or PM shift, but it was still light out when we stopped a well known car thief and methamphetamine seller/user named Carl Kotke. Carl was with some other White guy in a beat up old truck. Boring part of the story, short, Steve and I ended up arresting Carl and his pal for possession for sales of methamphetamine. They had a sandwich baggie stuffed full of freshly made meth. THAT'S a nice hook! It was so fresh, it hadn't been dried out yet and if you tilted the baggie to the side, the fluids would collect in the lower corner. So we slapped it high and transported our two felony suspects and our evidence to the station. Steve was the driver, so he got to book the suspects, book the evidence and run the arrest by the Watch Sgt. and the Watch Commander. I got to write the arrest review (probable cause declaration, now) and the report, easy frickin' peasy. We'd be done and ready to roll in an hour.
So I took the sandwich baggie of meth and plopped it on the desk in front of me, where it wouldn't wander off and I started writing. Over the next few minutes, some training officers wandered in with their trainees to show them the methamphetamine, so they would know what it looked like, and opened the baggie to give them a slight whiff, so they would know what it smelled like. This last practice is now frowned upon, by the way. After writing the arrest review (now called the P.C.D.), which is a short synopsis of the incident, explaining how you legally came to arrest your suspect for their charges, and is used to get the arrest approved, I finally got down to writing my report, which is a more detailed account of the incident and is used in court. I wrote the face page and noticed I was feeling kind of sleepy. I wrote page two and I could barely keep my eyes open. I got to page three. I wrote the first sentence and paused. I didn't like the last word. I wanted a synonym. So I erased the word and wrote my new word. I reread the sentence and saw I had written the exact same word. I thought, "What the fuck?" So, I erased the word and rewrote the very same word, AGAIN! "Damn!" I erased the word a second time, concentrated, and immediately rewrote the word for a third time! Who said third time's a charm?
Anyway, the next thing I know, I was dreaming about being at the beach. I thought to myself, "Wait a minute... How can I be at the beach, if I'm at work struggling with a stupid word on a stupid repo.... I'M ASLEEP! I FELL ASLEEP!" I opened my eyes to find myself laying on my back on the floor of the report writing room, with my shirt off, my bullet resistant vest off, my gunbelt off and the paramedics working on me, with some deputy sheriff personnel standing around watching! My initial evaluation of the situation was that I had fallen asleep and my dipshit coworkers had called L.A. County Fire Engine Company 36 and they were all pulling an elaborate prank on me. I said, "What the fuck is this shit?", and started laughing.
The paramedics, using their patented, "sooth the patient", voices, said,
"It's okay. It's okay. Just lie back, you're alright."
The genuine looks of concern on their faces made me doubt my initial evaluation of the situation and I allowed them to press me back onto my back. But not for long. I made a careful reassessment and came to the same conclusion as the first assessment. This was a joke. I started laughing again and tried sitting up and waving everyone hovering over me off. They finally convinced me that I had a seizure. I was transported to UCLA Harbor General Hospital and spent the night.
When I went back to work Greg Arnold, who was also writing a report, when I was, said that when he first saw me hit the floor, doing the herky jerky, he thought I was goofing around and started laughing. It wasn't until I turned blue that he thought maybe he should get paramedics. That either says something bad about what people think of me, or it says something bad about Greg Arnold's decision making abilities. I still haven't decided which.
At the time, the doctor thought it was a one-off incident. He thought maybe one of my co-workers (obviously a trainee) didn't reseal the baggie properly and the suspects had made the meth with ether and the fumes are what knocked me out. Over the next couple of years, I had a few more seizures at home. Turns out I have a 9 mm sized cyst in my brain that the meth fumes set off and caused me to short circuit. To top it off, the County didn't count it as an on-duty incident. They ruled,
"It was a pre-existing condition (even though I'd never had a seizure before), aggravated by a duty related incident."
Anyway, to this day, whenever Steve sees me, he bitches about having to do the booking AND the report writing that day. Boo hoo fuckin' you!
For you climbers out there, you should know that this incident led to what the department unofficially called "The Farrell/Williams Narco Handling Policy". That will probably be on your next promotional exam. Good luck! (brown nosers)
Verdict - Steve Williams the Court finds you Guilty of Incompetence and Unsafe Handling of Hazardous Materials.
Sentence - I know, I know, Steve, you're wondering, "How in the fuck is this my fault?" Well, I'll tell you. I had that booking paperwork pretty much done by the time we hit the station. Any COMPETENT deputy would have had the booking process finished in 10 to 12 minutes. If you'd have done that, you would have had that meth sealed up safely in an evidence envelope and away from me, BEFORE I had the seizure! So, it's plain to see that it's all your fault!
And for those of you who are wondering, "So, what DO you get when you cross methamphetamine with Wayde Farrell?" The answer is, the bill for a lifetime supply of dilantin, leviteracetam and tegretol, along with a wife who asks three times a day, EVERY day, (read the following in the naggy wife voice of your choice)
"Did you take your dilantin today? Did you take your leviteracetam today? Did you take your tegretol today? DID you?"
THAT'S what!
In 1991, I was working with my little unlucky charm, Steve Williams. We were working unit 169 in the Torrance strip. I don't recall if it was Day shift or PM shift, but it was still light out when we stopped a well known car thief and methamphetamine seller/user named Carl Kotke. Carl was with some other White guy in a beat up old truck. Boring part of the story, short, Steve and I ended up arresting Carl and his pal for possession for sales of methamphetamine. They had a sandwich baggie stuffed full of freshly made meth. THAT'S a nice hook! It was so fresh, it hadn't been dried out yet and if you tilted the baggie to the side, the fluids would collect in the lower corner. So we slapped it high and transported our two felony suspects and our evidence to the station. Steve was the driver, so he got to book the suspects, book the evidence and run the arrest by the Watch Sgt. and the Watch Commander. I got to write the arrest review (probable cause declaration, now) and the report, easy frickin' peasy. We'd be done and ready to roll in an hour.
So I took the sandwich baggie of meth and plopped it on the desk in front of me, where it wouldn't wander off and I started writing. Over the next few minutes, some training officers wandered in with their trainees to show them the methamphetamine, so they would know what it looked like, and opened the baggie to give them a slight whiff, so they would know what it smelled like. This last practice is now frowned upon, by the way. After writing the arrest review (now called the P.C.D.), which is a short synopsis of the incident, explaining how you legally came to arrest your suspect for their charges, and is used to get the arrest approved, I finally got down to writing my report, which is a more detailed account of the incident and is used in court. I wrote the face page and noticed I was feeling kind of sleepy. I wrote page two and I could barely keep my eyes open. I got to page three. I wrote the first sentence and paused. I didn't like the last word. I wanted a synonym. So I erased the word and wrote my new word. I reread the sentence and saw I had written the exact same word. I thought, "What the fuck?" So, I erased the word and rewrote the very same word, AGAIN! "Damn!" I erased the word a second time, concentrated, and immediately rewrote the word for a third time! Who said third time's a charm?
Anyway, the next thing I know, I was dreaming about being at the beach. I thought to myself, "Wait a minute... How can I be at the beach, if I'm at work struggling with a stupid word on a stupid repo.... I'M ASLEEP! I FELL ASLEEP!" I opened my eyes to find myself laying on my back on the floor of the report writing room, with my shirt off, my bullet resistant vest off, my gunbelt off and the paramedics working on me, with some deputy sheriff personnel standing around watching! My initial evaluation of the situation was that I had fallen asleep and my dipshit coworkers had called L.A. County Fire Engine Company 36 and they were all pulling an elaborate prank on me. I said, "What the fuck is this shit?", and started laughing.
The paramedics, using their patented, "sooth the patient", voices, said,
"It's okay. It's okay. Just lie back, you're alright."
The genuine looks of concern on their faces made me doubt my initial evaluation of the situation and I allowed them to press me back onto my back. But not for long. I made a careful reassessment and came to the same conclusion as the first assessment. This was a joke. I started laughing again and tried sitting up and waving everyone hovering over me off. They finally convinced me that I had a seizure. I was transported to UCLA Harbor General Hospital and spent the night.
When I went back to work Greg Arnold, who was also writing a report, when I was, said that when he first saw me hit the floor, doing the herky jerky, he thought I was goofing around and started laughing. It wasn't until I turned blue that he thought maybe he should get paramedics. That either says something bad about what people think of me, or it says something bad about Greg Arnold's decision making abilities. I still haven't decided which.
At the time, the doctor thought it was a one-off incident. He thought maybe one of my co-workers (obviously a trainee) didn't reseal the baggie properly and the suspects had made the meth with ether and the fumes are what knocked me out. Over the next couple of years, I had a few more seizures at home. Turns out I have a 9 mm sized cyst in my brain that the meth fumes set off and caused me to short circuit. To top it off, the County didn't count it as an on-duty incident. They ruled,
"It was a pre-existing condition (even though I'd never had a seizure before), aggravated by a duty related incident."
Anyway, to this day, whenever Steve sees me, he bitches about having to do the booking AND the report writing that day. Boo hoo fuckin' you!
For you climbers out there, you should know that this incident led to what the department unofficially called "The Farrell/Williams Narco Handling Policy". That will probably be on your next promotional exam. Good luck! (brown nosers)
Verdict - Steve Williams the Court finds you Guilty of Incompetence and Unsafe Handling of Hazardous Materials.
Sentence - I know, I know, Steve, you're wondering, "How in the fuck is this my fault?" Well, I'll tell you. I had that booking paperwork pretty much done by the time we hit the station. Any COMPETENT deputy would have had the booking process finished in 10 to 12 minutes. If you'd have done that, you would have had that meth sealed up safely in an evidence envelope and away from me, BEFORE I had the seizure! So, it's plain to see that it's all your fault!
And for those of you who are wondering, "So, what DO you get when you cross methamphetamine with Wayde Farrell?" The answer is, the bill for a lifetime supply of dilantin, leviteracetam and tegretol, along with a wife who asks three times a day, EVERY day, (read the following in the naggy wife voice of your choice)
"Did you take your dilantin today? Did you take your leviteracetam today? Did you take your tegretol today? DID you?"
THAT'S what!
Wow! Betty told me about the seizures, but I never knew any details, let alone the cause! Yikes!!
ReplyDeleteto quote a deceased radio personality, "... and now you know, the rest of the story."
DeleteThank you, Mr. Harvey.
ReplyDelete