The Retired Cop

Case #47 – re The People vs Barry Shapiro ( Mr. Fantastic)      During his stint at Lomita Sheriff’s Station, Barry (the Ba is pronounced as in ‘bat’) Shapiro was able to earn a reputation as Mr. Fantastic. Not because he was such a great guy, which he is…NOT! If he was, they’d call him Mr. Great, which they don’t. And not because of the wonderful job he did as a Deputy Sheriff over there, which he did…NOT! If that was the case they would call him Mr. Wonderful, which they don’t. And not because he’s super-sensitive about any perceived slight, or criticism, which he is…really, he is. If that was the case they’d call him Mr. Super-Sensitive…oh wait, they did call him that.      Now they call him Mr. Fantastic, because of a little incident that occurred while he was dressing in the locker room. After struggling for 20 minutes to get his Sam Browne (gun belt) buckled, with frustratingly little success, Barry had decided to take 5 while he caught his breath and considered his predicame

Case #46 - re The People vs Jeff Fleming again (Is someone missing a fat white guy?)      A bunch of us were helping Jeff and the rest of the Carson Narco crew out on a warrant service. Entry had been made and everything was Code-4, or so we thought. I was standing on the front porch of the target location when a neighbor lady came running up to me all out of breath, “Deputy! Deputy!” “Yes Ma’am?” “One of the people you’re looking for ran out the back!” “What!”, I said. I was surprised, because the house had been surrounded when entry was made and nobody reported seeing anyone run out. “Are you sure?” “Yes! He jumped the wall into my backyard and my rottweiler went after him.”      I got on the radio and advised units that we had an outstanding suspect. At this moment Jeff Fleming came walking out of the house and stood by us. he was sweating and somewhat out of breath. That didn't really surprise me. At the time, Jeff was frickin massive and just breathing caused him to

Case #45 - The People Vs Wayde Farrell (Reflecting Back on my First Shooting)      When I first joined the Los Angeles Sheriff's Department in 1985, I was living alone in an apartment in Long Beach, near 7th Street and Cherry Avenue.  Not the nicest part of town at the time.  It was a one bedroom, with a living room and a small kitchen.  The building itself was one story and my place was closest to the alleyway.      So one night I got off work and drove home.  All the lights in my place were off, because I left for work in the afternoon. I unlocked my front door, walked in and turned on the living room light. I walked across the living room to my bedroom door, which was directly across from the front door.  I opened the door and took one step inside.  Without turning on the light in the bedroom, I reached across my body and pulled my 6" Smith & Wesson .357 revolver from it's holster under my left arm.  I reached down to set it on the dresser to my right.  As I did

Case #44 - The People vs Sarge (Alaska “Land of the Everlasting lyin’ Son-of-a-Bitch”)      In this particular case, the facts are disputed.  Therefore the accused will only be identified as "Sarge".  That may, or may not have been his rank at the time, but it flows better than Deputy and is easier to spell than the other ranks. The accused’s case will be presented first, by way of an e-mail he sent to the Carson Station scheduling office and which, somehow, found itself printed and in my station mailbox.  Again, I can't say for certain, this email wasn't edited before it was printed and delivered to me, but it sounds genuine enough to me and that's what counts.  The e-mail read as follows; “Dear Greg (Greg Arnold) and Oso (Greg Martinez),           My vacation in Alaska may be extended a few days, as I have broken my leg.  My wife and I were camping near Nome. In Alaska “near” translates to, “within 300 miles of”.  We were hiking and came upon a full grown