Case #60 - The People vs Doug Fetteroll (They see things differently on the East Coast)
In December 2008, OSS (the gang detail) had a search warrant scheduled. The day before the warrant was to be served, I arrived at work and was getting dressed in the COPs trailer, which is adjacent to the OSS trailer. I had a question for Detective Mark Wedel, of OSS, and walked next door to talk to him. I wasn't finished putting my uniform on yet. My shirt was untucked and unbuttoned, my boots were untied and my gun belt wasn't on. I knocked, opened the door without waiting for a response, and walked into the middle of an OSS meeting. Their new Sgt, Sgt Tonya Edwards looked me up and down, cocked her head back and raised an eyebrow.
Just as I thought Sgt Edwards was going to chew my ass for being out of uniform and barging into their meeting, I caught a glimpse of some gray, thinning hair coming into my peripheral vision from behind a cabinet. The thinning, gray strands of hair were immediately followed by the rest of Lt. Doug Fetteroll's head. Doug and I had known each other for over 18 years. He had gotten to Carson about a year before me. For some unknown reason, he was quite proud of the fact that he was from Boston. He was always ready to trade barbs with anyone.
When he saw me, his wrinkled visage smiled in delight. As he started to chortle, I turned to leave. Doug stopped me with,
"Whoa! Whoa, there partner! Where ya's goin there? Yer not goin' ta deny me this little Christmas Bonus are ya's?"
I turned around and stepped back into the room to take the wisecracks. Everyone fell silent and expectant smiles appeared as everyone waited for the Fetteroll's sarcastic wit to kick in.
Doug eagerly rolled his chair forward, rubbed his hands together and leaned forward. He eyed me up and down saying,
"Alrighty! What do we gots here?
silence. He eyed my boots.
"Ohhhkay."
silence. He eyed my pants,
"Mmmm hmmmm."
silence. adjusted himself in his seat and eyed my shirt,
"Let's see."
silence. My dread changed to pity.
I finally ended his misery with,
"Ya got nuthin' do ya?"
"Nope.", he admitted and rolled back to his corner
An hour, or two, later, Doug decided to go eat at a little taqueria in the city of Gardena, just east of our patrol area. The Watch Deputy, Gary Ross, received a 911 call from Doug. Even the freakishly hyperactive Ross couldn't understand what the panicked lieutenant was saying, because he was talking so fast. For the first time in Gary's life, he found himself being the one saying,
"Calm down."
Gary drew upon his patrol memories and told Doug what countless deputies had told him in the past,
"Take a deep breath and try again."
"I GOTS A VANDALISM IN PROGRESS AT PACO'S TAQUERIA IN GARDENA!! THE SUSPECT IS A MALE HISPANIC, 16 TO 18 YEARS OLD! 5'10", 130 POUNDS, WEARING A WHITE T-SHIRT, BLACK CUT OFFS AND HE HAS A SHAVED HEAD! HE"S DEFINITELY A GANGBANGER! HE"SSPRAY PAINTING GRAFFITI ON THE SIDE OF THE BUSINESS! I HAVE A CLEQAR VIEW! I'M ONLY 60 YARDS AWAY! HE'S WRITING G13! ROLL ME THREE UNITS CODE AND AN AERO UNIT!"
Air 21 was overhead in about 60 seconds. They began to circle overhead as Doug coordinated the responding ground units. Air 21 got on the air.
"Hey lieutenant? We don't see the tagger."
"ARE YOU ROOKIES BLIND! THE PERP IS THE WEST SIDE OF THE BUILDING AS WE SPEAK!"
"I don't know lieutenant, that guy looks like he's holding a can of WD-40, or something, and we don't see any paint on the walls."
"DON'T BE A SUCKER KID! EVERYONE KNOWS GANGBANGERS LIKE TO TAKE THE WD-40 WRAPPER OFF THE CANS AND WRAP THEM AROUND THEIR SPRAY PAINT CANS AS CAMOUFLAGE!"
"Well, I don't know about that, sir, but at any rate, we still don't see any paint on the walls."
"ARE YOU FOOLS BLIND?! GET ME AIR 23! UNITS! MOVE IN! LET'S GET THIS TURKEY!"
The ground units rolled in. The, "teenaged, gangbanger/perp/turkey", turned out to be a 50 year old Mexican immigrant. He was the restaurant's cook/pest exterminator. He had been spraying a can of, "Raid", around the building, because the number of ant/roaches in the dishes exceeded the health department's stringent standards.
Verdict – WHOA! WHOA-HO-HO THERE PRINCESS! Yer not gonna deny me THIS little Christmas bonus are yas? Alrughty then! What' do we gots here? Let's see. Hmmmm. Hey! How 'bouts this? We gots ourselves a smartass gang lieutenant going befuckinserk over a middleaged cook trying to keep bugs out of his cuisine. That's good enough fer me, pal! The court finds yous Guilty of Makin' A Mountain Out Of A Molehill (well, technically, it was an ant hill, but the old sayin' says molehill}"
Sentence – Dougie "Princess" Fetteroll, the court sentences you to one slice of Humble Pie prepared by your favorite Mexican cook, said pie not to exceed the health department's recommended daily allowance of ant, roach and other verminous parts. Eat hearty.
In December 2008, OSS (the gang detail) had a search warrant scheduled. The day before the warrant was to be served, I arrived at work and was getting dressed in the COPs trailer, which is adjacent to the OSS trailer. I had a question for Detective Mark Wedel, of OSS, and walked next door to talk to him. I wasn't finished putting my uniform on yet. My shirt was untucked and unbuttoned, my boots were untied and my gun belt wasn't on. I knocked, opened the door without waiting for a response, and walked into the middle of an OSS meeting. Their new Sgt, Sgt Tonya Edwards looked me up and down, cocked her head back and raised an eyebrow.
Just as I thought Sgt Edwards was going to chew my ass for being out of uniform and barging into their meeting, I caught a glimpse of some gray, thinning hair coming into my peripheral vision from behind a cabinet. The thinning, gray strands of hair were immediately followed by the rest of Lt. Doug Fetteroll's head. Doug and I had known each other for over 18 years. He had gotten to Carson about a year before me. For some unknown reason, he was quite proud of the fact that he was from Boston. He was always ready to trade barbs with anyone.
When he saw me, his wrinkled visage smiled in delight. As he started to chortle, I turned to leave. Doug stopped me with,
"Whoa! Whoa, there partner! Where ya's goin there? Yer not goin' ta deny me this little Christmas Bonus are ya's?"
I turned around and stepped back into the room to take the wisecracks. Everyone fell silent and expectant smiles appeared as everyone waited for the Fetteroll's sarcastic wit to kick in.
Doug eagerly rolled his chair forward, rubbed his hands together and leaned forward. He eyed me up and down saying,
"Alrighty! What do we gots here?
silence. He eyed my boots.
"Ohhhkay."
silence. He eyed my pants,
"Mmmm hmmmm."
silence. adjusted himself in his seat and eyed my shirt,
"Let's see."
silence. My dread changed to pity.
I finally ended his misery with,
"Ya got nuthin' do ya?"
"Nope.", he admitted and rolled back to his corner
An hour, or two, later, Doug decided to go eat at a little taqueria in the city of Gardena, just east of our patrol area. The Watch Deputy, Gary Ross, received a 911 call from Doug. Even the freakishly hyperactive Ross couldn't understand what the panicked lieutenant was saying, because he was talking so fast. For the first time in Gary's life, he found himself being the one saying,
"Calm down."
Gary drew upon his patrol memories and told Doug what countless deputies had told him in the past,
"Take a deep breath and try again."
"I GOTS A VANDALISM IN PROGRESS AT PACO'S TAQUERIA IN GARDENA!! THE SUSPECT IS A MALE HISPANIC, 16 TO 18 YEARS OLD! 5'10", 130 POUNDS, WEARING A WHITE T-SHIRT, BLACK CUT OFFS AND HE HAS A SHAVED HEAD! HE"S DEFINITELY A GANGBANGER! HE"SSPRAY PAINTING GRAFFITI ON THE SIDE OF THE BUSINESS! I HAVE A CLEQAR VIEW! I'M ONLY 60 YARDS AWAY! HE'S WRITING G13! ROLL ME THREE UNITS CODE AND AN AERO UNIT!"
Air 21 was overhead in about 60 seconds. They began to circle overhead as Doug coordinated the responding ground units. Air 21 got on the air.
"Hey lieutenant? We don't see the tagger."
"ARE YOU ROOKIES BLIND! THE PERP IS THE WEST SIDE OF THE BUILDING AS WE SPEAK!"
"I don't know lieutenant, that guy looks like he's holding a can of WD-40, or something, and we don't see any paint on the walls."
"DON'T BE A SUCKER KID! EVERYONE KNOWS GANGBANGERS LIKE TO TAKE THE WD-40 WRAPPER OFF THE CANS AND WRAP THEM AROUND THEIR SPRAY PAINT CANS AS CAMOUFLAGE!"
"Well, I don't know about that, sir, but at any rate, we still don't see any paint on the walls."
"ARE YOU FOOLS BLIND?! GET ME AIR 23! UNITS! MOVE IN! LET'S GET THIS TURKEY!"
The ground units rolled in. The, "teenaged, gangbanger/perp/turkey", turned out to be a 50 year old Mexican immigrant. He was the restaurant's cook/pest exterminator. He had been spraying a can of, "Raid", around the building, because the number of ant/roaches in the dishes exceeded the health department's stringent standards.
Verdict – WHOA! WHOA-HO-HO THERE PRINCESS! Yer not gonna deny me THIS little Christmas bonus are yas? Alrughty then! What' do we gots here? Let's see. Hmmmm. Hey! How 'bouts this? We gots ourselves a smartass gang lieutenant going befuckinserk over a middleaged cook trying to keep bugs out of his cuisine. That's good enough fer me, pal! The court finds yous Guilty of Makin' A Mountain Out Of A Molehill (well, technically, it was an ant hill, but the old sayin' says molehill}"
Sentence – Dougie "Princess" Fetteroll, the court sentences you to one slice of Humble Pie prepared by your favorite Mexican cook, said pie not to exceed the health department's recommended daily allowance of ant, roach and other verminous parts. Eat hearty.
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