By Hal Collier, Retired LAPD
Ed Meckle joined the LAPD in 1956 and I followed in his footsteps in 1970. Our careers over-lapped for about six years but we never met before attending a retired officers luncheon. We have become close friends even though some of our experiences were very similar as well as very different. This Ramblings is a collaboration of our experiences in patrol decades apart.
In Ed’s own words, he will describe what it was like working patrol in the 50’s. Times were different, and no one had video cameras or cell phones. The police were expected to keep the peace, no matter how. We will take you through what being a LAPD officer was like in different generations.
My experiences were a generation of change. I was lucky to have a little of both worlds. Unlike the dinosaurs, most during my era survived by evolving. You changed your tactics, or you looked for new work.
Police Cars
Ed Meckle 1956
Squad car, scout, cruiser, prowl, panda—whatever the name, they are the patrol/radio cars. The first line of defense, they are to the LAPD what the infantry is to the army.
The cars were tired. They were two- and three-year old Chevy and Plymouth 4 doors, the cheapest they could buy. Manual transmissions, yes, clutch and shift lever on the steering column. The division had one automatic transmission car for test purposes (will it be ok for police work?).
Bench vinyl-covered seats, no, repeat no seat belts. Two solid roof reds (mickey mouse ears) with a large growler siren between. Cars were so under powered that the siren operated by horn ring actually slowed the car down as pitch went up. No air conditioners and heaters never worked.
Basic, basic radio with a hand-held mike—red/green light for transmit/listen.
Hal Collier 1970
We were still driving two and year-old Plymouths. They were all automatic transmissions and the heater worked sometimes. No air or power steering in the beginning. The brakes on the ‘69 Plymouths only worked after heating up. I almost had a few accidents just trying to drive out of the station parking lot.
We also had the tin cans red lights as Ed described and I remember the growler siren on a few of the older cars. We had seat belts, but they were neatly tied in knots and stuffed under the seats. I considered Plymouths the best police car in my career. Most had over 100,000 miles and sometimes the door rests came off the door when you tried to exit, but the engines were strong. If you were in a fight for your life and requested help, you could hear the carburetor of that Plymouth open and the roar of that engine. You knew help was soon to arrive.
Later in my career we drove Fords, Chevys and even a few Matadors. They had air and power steering but not as fast as the old Plymouths. Just when I retired they switched to Ford Explorers. Lots of room—they needed it with the computer stuffed in the dash. No more bench seats and they removed the cup holders. Where will I put my latte coffee?
My son, who is still on the job, says all the black/whites have the latest technology: light bar instead of the tin cans, MDT’s (mobile digital terminals-computers), some have dash cameras and even a few have FLIR (Forward Looking Infrared cameras). They even have a camera that reads license plates automatically. We’ve come a long way since Ed’s days!
Next, we’ll describe Police Stations from 1956 to 2005. Ed & Hal
–From Thonie, my error—I posted Police Stations back on January 21, 2018. Here’s the link in case you missed it.
By Natasha Yim
It is early morning, February 4, 2018, Super Bowl Sunday. I have just finished reading of Mikey’s park adventures with a nature lover. I was reminded of several park funnies.
Wearing only a baby doll nighty and a baseball cap (very fashionable) he targeted only female riders. Singles or in groups, it made no difference to him. He leapt from the bushes, shouted some obscenity, flashed the riders and disappeared back into the brush where they could not follow. Several spooked horses, thrown riders and complaints brought Metro onto the scene.
Author–sponsored book giveaways are contests, too. Theoretically, free book giveaways, such as those sponsored by Goodreads, generate publicity for a book in several ways.
Blurb: In She Didn’t Know Her Place, Dana Richardson faces that dilemma in her new job at a state university in New England. A research center, which reports to her, is falsifying data to help industrial clients meet federal pollution standards, and the last woman who tried to investigate the problem died under suspicious circumstances.
Blurb: SHOT TO PIECES is the story of NYPD 1st Grade Detective Padraig Joseph Durr. Durr is tasked with solving a particularly grisly gang related homicide in Brooklyn. When Paddy catches the squeal, he is also on the verge of an emotional and psychological breakdown. Because of his penchant for self-destruction, fueled by a childhood of abuse and sexual exploitation, coupled with an ingrained sense of worthlessness and abandonment, Durr has brought his entire life to the brink of ruin. Can he hold it together long enough to solve this murder? Can he fix himself enough to be re-united with the one true love of his life and his family? Or will he implode, irrevocably destroying his career, his family and himself?
About Donna:
At the time that I worked Northeast Vice, we owned Griffith Park and part of the Hollywood hills. Complaints about lewd conduct occurring in several areas of the park required the unit to enforce these laws so that the public could better enjoy the park, it’s many hiking trails and spectacular views of the city.
Rick, my partner, and I were assigned to work that trail. I drew the short straw and would be the ‘trick.’ Rick hid in the bushes where he could cover me and be a witness to the violation while I stood on the trail, the bait. Soon enough came this rather large individual—about 265 pounds and about 6 feet. I was playing with a twig and my arms were chest level. The individual stood about 10 feet to my right and slowly worked his way toward me. Now, the deal was when the violation occurred, I was to step to the side, Rick would emerge from the bushes, we would identify ourselves, advise the guy why he was being arrested, hook him up and off to jail.
I was laying on my back holding onto the guy when I hear Rick sliding on his butt down the hill, shouting for me to hold on. Then, I heard a “snap,” and I found myself looking at the ground, my left leg out to the side. I let go of the guy as the pain started to get serious. Rick sails past me toward the soon-to-be-arrested violator as I am attempting to dislodge my leg. The boot slipped out of the rut and down I went, landing on my left shoulder.
Entering contests are a no-brainer for me. I can directly attribute my entry into the realm of traditional publishing (albeit a small press) to winning a contest. I’ll bet many authors could say the same.
As events progressed, both novels with Oak Tree Press went to press with the third, With Malice Aforethought, in contract. Sadly, Oak Tree’s production has fallen into limbo with the ongoing health issues of its publisher, Billie Johnson. Johnson offered many OTP authors their rights, so I took mine. The short version of this story is I now have another publisher, Aakenbaaken & Kent, with whom I’m very pleased. I’m currently working on another Nick and Meredith Mystery, working title, Felon with a Firearm. I’m hustling to get it finished for the next PSWA writing contest that opens in May.
I’m also looking into other places to submit my work for competition. In 2015, the East Texas Writers Guild awarded Malice third place in “Best First Chapter” category. There are many more contests in which to submit your work. Start with a Google search: I use “mystery contests.” It helps to search within your genre.