Some things never leave you

I recently read a blog at Fun with hand Grenades, titled, Stressing, the soldier was writing from his heart, his fears and the one fear, it will not leave him when he gets home. I sent him off an e-mail relating my own personal experiences and those from years in law enforcement this got me to thinking.

Once a human being has been exposed to violent adrenalin filled situations on a constant basis, that mind set never truly leaves you. Many things of my past still bother me today and I have learned to live peacefully with them, some I have not. Many little tics of mine are remnants of my life in law enforcement, others still left over from the 1960’s, but they are still there.

Crowds, I hate them, I do not trust anyone in them, never will. Someone walking behind me at night is something that will not leave me, I will cross the street to avoid this, it does not matter if it is a little old lady, I cannot tolerate it.

For many years after entering a life of peaceful existence without wearing a police uniform, I still found myself in protective mode, like the sheep dog essay that Papa Ray shares links to, the sheep dog protecting his flock, that was me and a few times, I paid the price for it.

Years ago, I was at a local mall awaiting a friend for a lunch meeting, I was standing outside of the food court. It was raining badly; about as bad as it can get around these parts, I was standing under the overhang sharing the spot with five or six women employees outside for a cigarette break. We all became transfixed on a couple with a small little girl between them, holding the hand of the man and the woman. They were running to get out of the rain after parking their car.

As they were getting to where we were all hiding from the rain the little girl saw a giant water puddle in front of her, still holding hands with each, she jumped into the puddle as hard as her little body would carry her. The water went everywhere, especially over the male holding her hand.

He stopped in his tracks, turned to the little girl and backhanded her across the face as hard as he could. The cries of disgust went up from the women next to me in a chorus of dismay. They continued their run until getting directly in front of me and I reacted without even thinking.

I hit the guy square in the face with everything I had while screaming, “That hurt, didn’t it” and the fight was on. That is until the police arrived a few seconds later and placed me in handcuffs. The guy wanted to press charges for assault, I cannot blame him, I assaulted him. The women taking their break were not going to stand for their knight in shinning armor being arrested while this child abuser went free.

They all gave statements telling the police exactly how the incident took place. The officer takes me aside telling me that he understood, he would see what he could do. The officer explained to the other guy, still bleeding badly from his nose and mouth that I would be arrested, but the report would be sent to child protective services. He had a very fast change of mindset and stated he just wanted to drop everything and go home, licking his wounds, so to speak. I was released the hero of every woman there, but still peeved this guy would get away.

I will cut to the chase and explain, no he did not go free. A copy of the report was filled with child protective services, who contacted me for follow-up statements. They explained that no court would convict me anyway and wanted my statement. The end of there story I have no knowledge of. I never went to court, but I can safely assume he learned his lesson the hard way.