Episode 2 A Violent Pirouette
Hey everyone. Welcome to episode 2 of Parallel Proof and this one is called A Violent Pirouette. This is a podcast that ties real life experiences to the inspired word, at least for me it does.
So this happened and this is how I remember it. Now I want you to try and picture the progression:
There I am on patrol during a swing shift in the City of Sacramento. It’s near-ish 3 pm in the afternoon on a bright sunny, typical Northern California day. Not a cloud in the sky. I’m totally bored and when cops are bored, what do they do? They create excitement. They look for it. A hunting, restless, determined cop can stir up some mayhem with a bit of luck. I lived for the adrenaline rush and loved getting lucky. It was a drug and I had to get my fix.
I am uniformed in the patrol car running license plates on the in-car computer as fast as my fingers could type. I position myself behind this older cream colored 80’s Oldsmobile, type type type, and sure enough, the plates are expired. Perfect. I get to perform a traffic stop and find out what’s up and who’s who. The driver immediately pulls into the parking lot of a Motel 6, parks, gets out and leans on the back trunk and bumper of the vehicle he was just driving. Now normally, this will be an easy ticket for expired tabs. A stat for the day. And hey, no one can say I wasn’t working hard keeping the streets of Sacramento safe from these wretched -----driving on expired license plate driving scoundrels. HAHA I’m kidding. I didn’t care, I was bored. Anyway,
I advised dispatch I was performing a traffic stop and put out my location. I get out of the black and white and approach some 6 foot 1, 220 lb man and, of course, ask for his driver’s license. The dude is completely calm and somewhat soft spoken, but he tells me he didn’t have his driver’s license on him, which is common. Not a problem. Happens all the time. It will just be an additional charge on the ticket. No big. I ask for his name, date of birth, and driver’s license number, but dude doesn’t know his DL number. So I ask him for his social security number and he hesitates, and then spews some numbers at me. I write down the numbers and, being the skeptic I am, I ask him for his social again. “yo I just told you my social security number” he nervously said to me. “Yeah, I know you did, tell it to me again.” And of course, he starts off with 3 completely different numbers. So, Dude is lying.
At this point it’s a mission to find out who he is. Remember, he is only getting a ticket, and he’s been calm and nice, shady, but not a threat. Even though I have no reason to feel threatened, I want to detain this guy, and the easiest way is to sit him in the back of my patrol car and ask him more questions through the metal and plexiglass wall between the front and back seats. As my detainee is sitting in the back seat, I try and shield what’s on the computer screen from his gaze. I don’t want to tip him off to anything I happen to find out. And,---- find out something I do. I realize the name and date of birth isn’t the guy I have placed in the back, but it happens to be his brother. The picture that pops up on the screen looks somewhat like this guy, it’s close, but its not him. Also, name and face on the screen has a felony warrant for his arrest. Haha, so either way, this guy is going to jail and now I have the probable cause to take him. It doesn’t matter at this point who he is, we’ll find out who he is at a later time.
So now comes the time to put Mr. Fraud in handcuffs formally, right? I get out of the car and open the driver’s side back door, and typical for handcuffing, I instruct whoever this is to turn his back to me facing the open door, place both legs and feet on top of, and, straight across the back seat. I tell him to put his hands behind his back. Mr. (fill in the blank) complies and does what he is told. I take my handcuffs off my belt and get one wrist secured with the cuff. Aaaaand,---- all hell is about to break loose!
Within a matter of seconds, using some convict inspired ballet move and obvious prison training, this guy jerks his body to the left while dropping and kicking his left leg back behind him. He slides backward, flips around, and exits the patrol vehicle. Big dude is standing outside the car face to face with me, inches from my nose, and thats when I saw it in his eyes. The fight was coming, and it’s coming now. My paddle mic was clipped to my upper right side, my right hand was still grasping the chain of the handcuff and my left hand reached across my chest to key up the radio to say “Charles 33 Cover.” When a cop calls for “cover” he’s in trouble and needs immediate back-up. By far, one of the coolest thing about being a cop, you are immersed in and part of the largest legal gang in the city.
To this day, I don’t know how he did it, except through practice with all the time you possess in prison, “Charles 33 never got put out over radio, let alone the word cover. The moment I keyed the mic, in one swift calculated maneuver, this guy yanks out the cord from the base of my radio, disabling it, grabs the free cuff hanging from my hand, and using the handcuff secured to his wrist and the open cuff now in his grasp, wraps the handcuff chain around the ring finger on my right hand, twists the cuffs in opposite directions, torqueing my finger, pulling, and completely breaking it.
I gotta pause here and explain something. It all happened so fast, I had no idea he had pulled the cord out of my radio that was attached to my paddle mic. All I knew is I was pissed, my finger was bloody, it hurt, and dirty Baryshnikov in my grill had bad breath. What I didn’t know was, dispatch didn’t hear my call for cover. When a mic is keyed but nothing is heard from dispatch, they have to find out who keyed the mic by identifying the number ID that displays on their screen to a written list of which officer owns that radio. Apparently, that takes precious time away from being able to dispatch officers to a cover call. All that was heard by dispatch was “Cha” and then silence.
Anyway, back to the story. I pull my finger from the twisted chain and step back. I realize I don’t have my baton on me, its in the car. Like some comedy sketch, like a satirical Charlie Chan movie, this guy takes off running and to the opposite side of the patrol car. With the vehicle between us, he fakes one way, I flinch that way too. He fakes the other way, I flinch. We did this probably 5 times and he finally takes off running through the motel parking lot. Now I’m not going to say I was bad ass, but, Yeah, I was bad ass. I closed in behind this guy and in a flight Clark Kent would be jealous of, I Launched myself toward his back and in mid air, I wrapped my arms around his elbows, and midsection, and forced this dude face first to the ground, haha with no arms breaking his fall. Eh well. It was a thing of beauty!
As the struggle was on, trying to force both arms back, all I hear in the distance was the gang, blaring their sirens. Dispatch sent the house to my location, and that pack of thirsty wolves raced to my rescue. It’s a pretty darn good feeling. It ends up that this particular Ballerino had 2 strikes and a third would land him in jail for a long time. He had a felony warrant for his arrest, he knew it, and he wasn’t having any part of going back to prison on a third strike. But, he did.
Anyway, that’s the way I remember the story.
I also remember reading the words of Jesus, that would be Matthew 11:12 to be exact, and He was talking about the Kingdom of Heaven forcefully advancing at that time. People from all over and all walks of life becoming disciples and following Him. Spreading His words, His hope, His healing. Specifically, he called ordinary, average fishermen to follow Him and make a difference in the world they touched. -- We all have been called. I have been called, even as unremarkable as I am, I am to make a difference. You are to make a difference in some small way. So here Jesus says, the Kingdom of Heaven is forcefully advancing, and He continues on with, AND forceful people lay hold of it. Or another version says, AND the violent take it by force. The Kingdom of Heaven is forcefully advancing, and forceful people lay hold of it. Those are His words.
When I look back at the man who fought me and broke my finger, I actually admire him. As twisted as that sounds. He trained himself for certain situations, he practiced effective moves, and was prepared in the likely scenario of opposition, me being the opposing force, he was ready. He was determined. He would do whatever it takes. His resolve was undeniable and forceful. He had an action he knew he had to take, and he took it by force.
So here’s my parallel:
I believe that God was saying, and IS saying even to me in the present----, to enter into the Kingdom and become His disciple, ---to become and do what God has called you to do, ---whatever action or prompting deep inside,--- to do this takes spiritual courage, a certain power, and determination even in the face of opposition. In the glare of boredom, the stranglehold of negativity, or in the sight of heartache or pain, or whatever is in our way, we have to force our way in. We have to press in to what we know God has slated for us in our little world around us. Almost resembling a violence or desperation. In the climate of self and division this world offers, God has called us to do something to advance his ideals. To make a positive impact. An example. Whatever it is. Even ordinary, average people. We are all called. Someone has to seize His direction by force with the mindset of desperation. We have to do something, ----or ----we sit in the back of the car, handcuffed, and hauled away to the prison of apathy and regret. Life passing by. Missing opportunities to fight for your purpose. The questions I have to myself are these: can I respond to whatever God has called me to do with fierce earnestness? Am I prepared and trained to make that bold a move? What have I been called to do? And how far am I willing to go to get it done. Now the question to you: What about you?
Well, thanks for being here. If you have any great stories to share, email me at parallelproofpodcast@gmail.com. Please subscribe and comment if you want. And I will see you next week.
