Category: Ramblings by Hal

After over 3 decades in LAPD patrol, Hal Collier has learned a thing or two. Take a look at some of his stories–you’ll be glad you did.

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Ramblings by Hal

Ramblings, Practical Jokes

By Hal Collier, LAPD Retired

We are happy that 35-year veteran Hal Collier is sharing his ‘stories behind the badge’ with us.

The story you are about to read is true. The names have been changed to protect the embarrassed. Everyone who was working at the Hollywood Police Station at the time, knows who the involved parties are. My past stories have been true police incidents followed by true practical jokes. The incidents I’m about to tell you will about cover the whole page, all involving the same officers. I will use a first name only to describe them. I did not personally participate in this practical joke but I was aware of it and didn’t object. Feel free to pass this story on, I checked with the ACLU and the statute of limitations have expired.

 

I’m going to have to go into a little background for my non-police friends who read my stories. Each police division is divided into areas. Each area is assigned a police or “A” Car. Remember “1 Adam 12?” Each ‘A” car has a Senior Lead Officer who is responsible for the activities of the “A” car on all three watches. Each “A” car will have its own Black and White (police car) assigned to it. That Black and White is supposed to only be used by the officers working that “A” car. Brand new police cars are always given to the “A” cars. Ok, if you are going to drive the same police car for the next six months to a year, you’re more inclined to take care of it. You keep it clean, inside and out and avoid dents and dings.

 

Here is where my story begins. Paul was a Senior Lead Officer in Hollywood and took pride in his Black and White. He made sure it was washed and serviced regularly. Paul’s downfall was that he cared too much about his car. If an officer on the previous watch was on overtime with Paul’s car, Paul would drive to his location to exchange cars. If an officer checked out Paul’s car who was not assigned to his car, Paul complained to the Watch Commander. I was a Senior Lead Officer for nine years and can understand Paul being protective of his car, but I also figured, the car belongs to the city. Paul was working Day Watch, that’s like 7 A.M. to 3 P.M.

 

Paul’s protective nature of his police car irritated some of the officers on the previous watch, that’s 11 P.M. to 7A.M. The first inkling that something was wrong was when Paul drove out of the police station parking lot and heard a clinking sound coming from the wheels. He drove to the police garage and had the hub caps removed. There were rocks in each hub cap. This went on for weeks. The officer, I’ll call Gary, who was putting the rocks in the hub caps either grew tired of that tactic or ran out of rocks.

 

This is not anywhere near the end of the story. Gary next placed a ball bearing inside the driver’s door. It must have been the size of a large marble. Now you might be thinking, what’s that going to do? Well, a ball bearing rolls. Inside a car door it rolls back and forth. Now just think of a two mile trip to the market. Every time you accelerate the ball bearing rolls to the back of the door. Every time you brake the ball bearing rolls to the front of the door. Each back and forth motion ends with a metallic clank. OK, now that you have the picture in your mind, imagine spending eight hours in a police car. That’s an average of 30 miles a day, every stop, “clank”, every start “clank”. How many starts and stops are there in 30 miles of city driving? I’m sure a Cal-Tech graduate could figure it out but to a street cop it amounts to a jacket with sleeves tied in the back and a rubber walled room. 

 

Paul took the car to the police garage and had the door panel removed but they couldn’t get that damn ball bearing out. About a year later I was driving this same black and white. I slammed on the brakes and that ball bearing rolled forward ending with a “clank.”  I think it had been stuck in the grime in the bottom of the door panel and I freed it. Oh crap, I wonder if those jackets come in extra-long sleeves? I honestly believe that somewhere in L.A. there’s an old taxi cab with a ball bearing inside the door waiting to be released.

 

This is still not the end of the story. One bright sunny Saturday, Paul got his vehicle keys from the equipment officer and walked out into the parking lot. After three trips walking around the parking lot, Paul couldn’t find his car. He suspected foul play, so he walked across the street to the police garage. Sure enough there was Paul’s police car sitting next to the gas pumps. It was sitting on four milk crates with tires removed. A note on the windshield said Paul “your tires are in the property room, have a nice day”.

 

I’m sure this was not the highlight of Paul’s long outstanding career, but I often think of Gary and the amount of work involved. Bringing all those rocks to work. How he got that ball bearing inside the car door and who jacked up that car. He took all four tires off. The tires were then rolled across the street and placed in the property room, which means he had to walk past the Watch Commanders office. Some practical jokes are a lot of work.

 

If I recall, the Watch Commander said “enough” and things returned to normal, if that’s possible in the Los Angeles Police Department at Hollywood Division.

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Ramblings by Hal

Ramblings, Another Dave Balleweg Story

By Hal Collier, LAPD Retired

We are happy that 35-year veteran Hal Collier is sharing his ‘stories behind the badge’ with us.

Another short Balleweg story.  A traffic officer asked for back up in front of the Nest Bar, a known biker bar. We arrived as did many other officers. This drunk biker said he’s not going to jail and he’ll hurt as many cops as he can. 

 

Six cops surround this wannabe Rambo and the fight is on. The biker is wrestled to the ground and three cops twist his arm behind his back to handcuff him. A familiar snap sound is heard. That’s right, his arm was broken during the handcuffing process.

Ok, whose arrest is this? None of the cops want this arrest—it will take half the night to get his arm set in the ER and then more time booking him at County Jail Medical Ward. Dave suggests that whoever’s handcuffs are on this want to be Rambo, it’s their arrest. All the cops agree. What Joe Bustos didn’t know was that Dave took Joe’s cuffs out during the fight. Joe was not a happy cop. Dave and I went for a cup of coffee—always good after a fight.

Dave and I dealt with a lot of Meth abusers and most new us by name. Hell, they would call the station and tell us who was driving a stolen car and in which motel they were staying. I remember once we arrested Kentucky Bob for driving a stolen car. When we went to court to testify against him, he greeted us like we were brothers. He plead guilty before we had a chance to testify against him. What a pal.

 

I know other officers have Dave Balleweg stories, some which still can’t be told.  Working with Dave was a rare and rewarding experience, a true Hollywood Character.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                       Hal

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Ramblings by Hal

Ramblings,Two More Dave Balleweg Stories

By Hal Collier, LAPD Retired

We are happy that 35-year veteran Hal Collier is sharing his ‘stories behind the badge’ with us.

This story involves an arrest that Dave and I made. I’m going to condense the arrest part, I covered it in an earlier Ramblings. We arrest this guy for stealing a car in the valley (San Fernando Valley). We get a subpoena for Valley Court. During the trial, the defendant doesn’t want to sit in front of the jury wearing the same t-shirt he was arrested in. The t-shirt was described in our well-written arrest report. 

The defendant’s lawyer wants a continuation. Dave jumps up and offers to buy the defendant a new shirt. The Judge agrees and hands Dave a $20.00 bill. Dave and I hustle to the Army Surplus store a block away and buy the dirt bag a new t-shirt.

I wonder if Dave gave the Judge his change. If not, I should get half.

The jury is back in the court room and Dave is called to the witness stand. The judge advises that they can’t swear Dave in until the clerk returns. 

Only Dave would raise his right hand and announce to the judge and jury.  “I can do this. I do solemnly swear in the case pending before this court to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help me God.” 

The judge asked the attorneys if they had any objections.

None. 

I have never heard of another officer who swore himself in during a trial.

~~

Dave and I responded to a radio call at Lucy’s El Adobe restaurant on Melrose.  Lucy’s was a favorite hangout for then Governor Jerry Brown. 

One night, this lady demanded to speak with the Governor. She refused to leave until she could tell the Governor how to run California. I now regret that we didn’t let her—it might have helped. Anyway we tell her she can’t talk to the Governor. 

She says, “If I can’t talk to Jerry, I’ll walk out into traffic and get hit by a car.” One of us, I’m not sure who says, “Go ahead.” 

This nut spins around and steps out into Melrose and is almost hit by a passing car. 

A motor cop who was looking for a drunk driver sees her step into the street and figures he’ll write her a ticket.

 

Dave and I wonder if we should let this nut become the motor officer’s problem. Our conscience gets the better of us.

We take the lady to the Mental Evaluation Unit for a 72 hour hold.

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Ramblings by Hal

Ramblings: Short Stories

By Hal Collier, LAPD Retired

We are happy that 35-year veteran Hal Collier is sharing his ‘stories behind the badge’ with us.

The following stories are true and instead of a long rambling story they are short remembrances.

To some, Hollywood is the glamour capital of the world. Movie stars, fancy restaurants, expensive houses and night clubs. To cops who spent too much time in Hollywood, know it for what it is, a town of broken dreams, runaway kids and violence. To keep your sanity, cops had to find humor in little incidents.

First, you can’t live in a big city without seeing some strange sights. I’m sure farmers see strange things too but I don’t think you want to hear about animals having sex in the back seat of a rusted out Chevy. Photos available if you have a note from your therapist.

I’m still amused when I recall this story.

I worked all night and then went to court. I spent all day in court, so I’ve been up for about twenty-three hours. I’m dead tired and the freeways are jam-packed with rush hour traffic. It’s November and cold. I drive up Temple and I’ll take Glendale Boulevard to the 2 freeway and head home to Eagle Rock.

So did everyone else.

I’m sitting in bumper to bumper traffic as I’m passing Echo Park Lake. Echo Park Lake is a city lake, filled with used diapers, tossed hand guns, and any other trash that our lower IQ population throws in. Oh, I forgot to mention, there’s something resembling water in the lake. I wouldn’t put my hand in that water on a double-dog dare.

As I’m sitting there I look over at the lake and see a man swimming out toward the middle of the lake.  Yew, I can’t imagine what would make a man swim in that filth and then I see it. One of those $200.00 remote controlled boats. It’s dead in the water in the middle of the lake. He obviously didn’t use the Energizer batteries. I wished I hadn’t had the sixth cup of coffee at court, I almost peed in my only court suit.

This is a very old story (early 70’s) but still makes me smile. One night, my partner and I stop this car for a traffic violation. The driver jumps out and tells us how important he is—he’s a defense lawyer and doesn’t like cops. He’s already late for a court appointment and we shouldn’t waste the tax-payers’ money detaining him any longer.

He has already committed three ‘contempt of cop’ violations. I write him a ticket which he says will cost me my badge. My partner checks him for warrants and the gods shined down on us that day.

That’s right. This fine upstanding member of the legal community has an unpaid $10.00 parking ticket. In 1971, a warrant required immediate arrest. We took this very important lawyer’s ass to Hollywood Station where he was booked. He immediately paid the $10.00 and was free to go. Only an hour delay in his important life. He had the nerve to ask us for a ride back to his car. Ha Ha. We only give rides one way. By the way, I kept my badge.

One more story. An off duty LAPD officer was brought into the station for an alleged act of misconduct involving illegal drugs. The officer was placed in the captain’s office, unattended, until his lawyer could arrive to represent him. After the officer was removed, a sergeant, asked: what if that officer hid some drugs in the captain’s office?

A K-9 dope-sniffing dog was requested. The dog started his search of the office. I was present as the dog made a quick trip around the space. Suddenly the dog did what most policemen would have paid a month’s salary to do. That’s right, the dog squatted and crapped right on the captain’s carpet. It wasn’t the solid kind either. It looked like the dog had a Pink’s Chili Dog on the way to the station. The dog left a trail of squirts from the captain’s office all the way out the back door.

Priceless!

Next week: August 16th, 2015 will feature “The Character who is somewhere between the street people who inhabited Hollywood and the cops who gave color to the station–Howie Lesser.”

 

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Ramblings by Hal

Ramblings: Stupid Crooks, part 2 and Stupid Cops

By Hal Collier, LAPD Retired

 

How many times have I arrested a suspect with a gun that wouldn’t work because he had the wrong ammunition? 

Here’s a classic. I was investigating a shooting where a suspect ambushed the victim in the dark parking lot behind an all-night hot dog stand. The suspect shot the victim with a shotgun at fairly close range. The victim sustained non-life threatening wounds to his left upper body and face. The victim was shot with #8 shotgun shells. That’s small birdshot. Two days later I arrested the shooter in a motel on Sunset Boulevard. I’d like to tell you it was my superior investigative skills but the truth is, a snitch told me where he was staying. When I arrested him, he had the shotgun and a bandolier full of shotgun shells. My suspect was mad that he didn’t kill

the victim. The bandolier had shotgun shells that contained #4 shotgun shells. A #4 shot would have easily put the victim into the next world. My suspect just didn’t know that #4 shot shells were larger than #8’s. Stupid, huh?

 

In 1993, I made a mistake and promoted to Sergeant. I was transferred out of Hollywood and sent to South Central Los Angeles, AKA Watts. I left the town of glamour, movie stars, and millionaires. I spent the next 15 months watching the sun rise over the Watts towers. Impressive, but not Hollywood.

 

One of the favorite crimes in Watts was stealing cars and taking the engine and transmission. The culprits would then roll the car a few blocks away and abandon the car. The cops would then follow the oil trail back to the thief’s house and arrest the occupant with the oil on his clothes and an engine in the living room.

 

Not only are the crooks stupid but sometimes I suspect that cops are in competition. Hollywood had an officer who married a “reformed” prostitute. He shows up for work late one night and sees his bride handcuffed to the hallway bench along with the rest of the soiled doves. He releases his wife out the back door of the station without the proper paperwork. I believe he’s now a greeter at Wal-Mart.

 

We had another JPL (Jet Propulsion Lab) reject who wanted to book a suspect for possession of a controlled substance. The officer displayed the drugs to the Watch Commander in the suspect’s prescription bottle in the suspect’s name. The W/C explained that if he had a prescription, it was not a crime. Our brilliant officer scratched off the suspects name and went to another supervisor and obtained booking approval. The former officer was later observed selling magazine subscriptions.

 

It’s not just the junior officers who do stupid things. I had a captain who was arrested by an outside agency for making and selling pirated DVD’s. She was arrested at Hollywood station and walked out the back door in handcuffs. How about the Hollywood sergeant who owned a big sail boat? He bought a million dollar home at a marina only to discover that his boat was too big for the boat slip at his new house that just cleared escrow. 

 

Last stupid cop story.  My partner and I are having a cup of coffee at the Winchell’s at Melrose and Vine. Were into about two sips of our coffee break when a hot shot radio call comes out. I toss my almost full cup of coffee and jump into the driver’s seat. I’m racing northbound on Vine Street and as I cross Santa Monica the road rises and then drops. My partner screams out in pain. He was cradling his hot coffee over his lap. Think about jumping on a trampoline with a hot liquid poised over your privates.  By the way the coffee was free. Saving a free cup of coffee verses cleaning a uniform or possible burns to your groin area, stupid. 

Footnote:  The officer recovered and later had children. 

 

We’re out there and we’re reproducing.  I won’t even get into politicians.

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Ramblings by Hal

Ramblings: Stupid Criminals, part 1

By Hal Collier, LAPD Retired

We are happy that 35-year veteran Hal Collier is sharing his ‘stories behind the badge’ with us.

Just about everybody is aware that criminals are not the smartest individuals on the planet. If you doubt me just check out the web sites and TV shows that show crooks at their worst. If you spent any time around the criminal element you’re not amazed, but you’re shocked when a jury returns a verdict of not-guilty. The jury’s reasoning is nobody’s that stupid?

 

Well, let me tell you that after 35 years of working the streets, mostly in Hollywood, yea, they are that dumb and they are reproducing at an alarming rate. I’m going to describe some of the stupid criminal offenses I investigated.

 

I responded to a radio call of a taxi cab robbery on the eastside of Hollywood. It was after midnight. I drive up and the cab driver is standing outside his cab. He tells us that he picked up a fare in front of a bar on Hollywood Boulevard. The fare directed the cab driver to this residence and upon arrival, the fare/suspect told the cabbie, “I have a gun give me your wallet and any cash you have.”

 

The cab driver gave the suspect his wallet and money then watched as the suspect ran between the houses. My partner began taking the report and I surveyed the crime scene. I found a wallet in the back seat and proudly told the cabbie that at least he left your wallet. The cabbie looked at the wallet and declared, “That’s not mine!” 

 

 I looked inside the wallet and found a CDC card with a picture. CDC stands for California Department of Corrections. That’s right, it was the suspect’s prison ID card—and his picture was identified by the cabbie as the guy who robbed him. The suspect ran east between the houses. Now I’m not the smartest cop on the planet, but I did know that a halfway house was one block east of us. A halfway house is a home for paroles released from prison.

 

We drove to the next block and the director told us our parolee had just come home. He’s now looking at an additional five years of state aid by the state of California. Duh, if you rob someone don’t leave your ID at the crime scene.

# 

 It was late into my shift and I needed to write a ticket. It was the end of the month and my sergeant was on my case because I had written only one ticket all month. I’ll admit that I hated writing tickets and only wrote enough to keep my sergeant from following me around all night. I see this car commit a traffic violation and I figure that’s an easy ticket. I won’t even have to go to traffic court on my day off. We stop the violator and he gets out of his car. The usual conversation occurs. He admitted the violation and produces his driver’s license. Above the violators right ear is a hand rolled marijuana cigarette. At the time this, was a felony and the violator was arrested. During the booking process, I asked him why he smoked marijuana and he replied, “It makes me more alert.”  Except when stopped by the cops.

# 

Crooks who drive are also just as dumb.  On more than one occasion a suspect would commit a robbery and as the officers were taking the report the suspect would drive by. It went something like this:

Officer, “What kind of car was the suspect driving?” 

The victim would look around and say, “It was just like that car. Wait, that’s the car and the guy that just robbed me.”

# 

Most non-police people think cops eat a lot of donuts. If a cop does eat a donut you can bet it won’t be a white powered donut. Blue wool uniforms and white power don’t mix. The public bases their conclusion on the fact that they see two or three cop cars parked at a Winchell’s, or Coopers Donuts. I just aged myself.

 

Today’s cops hang out at Starbucks or Goldstein’s Bagel shop. Most cops don’t eat donuts, but almost all drink coffee. Be honest—just about everyone gets a coffee break. I won’t even get into some of today’s cops ordering a cup of coffee with the word latte in it, or with a squirt of this or a 1/2 and 1/2 of that. Ordering a cup of coffee shouldn’t take 12 words and what’s with that little sleeve to keep you from burning your fingers.

Today’s cops are a whole new breed.

# 

 Ok, back to my Ramblings. I’m working A.M. Watch, you know that 11 P.M. to 7 A.M. nightmare. We’re going to need some caffeine to get through the night. After Roll Call, we drive to the Yum-Yum donut shop at Melrose and Highland. We drive into the parking lot and are greeted by the baker. He’s yelling something in Spanish. My knowledge of the Spanish language is to tell a suspect to put his hands up and that his mother is a member of the world’s oldest profession. All I understand him saying is black guy and robbed. He’s pointing toward the alley. I guess our coffee break is going to have to wait.

 

We drive into the alley and see two black guys pushing a car. They finally get it jump started and jump in. We stop them. Yep, they had just robbed the donut store. Ok, not everybody I arrested was a Rhodes Scholar, but come on—don’t rob a place and then find out your car won’t start. Double dumb, the driver was arrested once before for robbing this same donut store. I think my commendation said that I have superior knowledge of crime trends, keen observation skills and outstanding tactics. Reality, I just wanted a cup of coffee.

Hal

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Ramblings by Hal

Ramblings, More Dave Balleweg

 By Hal Collier, LAPD Retired

We are happy that 35-year veteran Hal Collier is sharing his ‘stories behind the badge’ with us. 

More Dave Balleweg

Another chapter of Dave Balleweg, a true Hollywood Character: The following stories are true unless there’s a civil rights violation, then I made them up. I only worked with Dave for about seven years but we’ve been good friends for over thirty-seven. Some of these stories are from other Ramblings. 

 

Dave and I worked a radio car for a while but then landed a job as a speeder/SPU car. We dealt with the large population of methamphetamine abusers in Hollywood and the crimes they committed. We also addressed the crime problems of our watch. This included many stake-outs. 

 

Stake-outs on TV are fun. The star sits in a warm car eating a donut and drinking designer coffee with that sissy sleeve. In less than one minute the suspect commits a crime and the officers make the arrest and go home on time. If there’s a foot chase the officers run through well-lit streets and alleys, jump over four foot fences and catch the bad guy in seconds.

 

Most real street cops laugh. After a foot pursuit which can last blocks, the officer is out of breath, he’s stepped in dog shit, ripped a clean uniform and lost his police car keys in front of an asshole bar two blocks ago.

 

Most stake-outs involve hours and even days of watching before a crime is committed that’s worth chasing a dirt bag. When sitting on a roof or in a car you get bored and that’s when cops are most dangerous. They look for things to amuse themselves.

 

One of first stake outs with Dave involved sitting on the roof of the Pantages Theater in Hollywood in December. Our latest intelligence (a Ouija board, sometimes pronounced Weeji) said the parking lot guys were breaking into cars while the show was in progress. We climbed up twelve stories to the roof and settled in for a long night. The wind is blowing from the north and it’s cold. No problem, my lovely wife made us a thermos of coffee. No wait. There is a problem. My wife doesn’t drink coffee and when we poured out a cup, it was thicker than that crude oil that came out of that well in the gulf.

 

I have to pee.  No problem. Dave and I pee in the water trough for the air conditioning unit. I later conducted a scientific experiment. If you spit chewing tobacco off a twelve-story building it will parachute half way down and ruin your accuracy, but you hit more cars. On the other hand my wife’s coffee dropped like a Russian satellite. The only crime we saw involved employees from Capital Records who had their Christmas Party. Now that parking lot was busy.

 

The next night we got an office in the Capital Records building. It overlooked the same parking lot and was a lot warmer. Dave is sitting in some executive’s leather chair and I’m looking out the window. We already changed the radio station to Country Music and I hear Dave on the phone. That’s right Dave called the radio station and had a Johnny Cash song dedicated to Dave and Hal, LAPD, on a stake-out. True story.

 

It was some time in the winter. Dave and I got a call to meet another car in the back parking lot of a known dirt-bag hotel (Vine Lodge). We figured they needed our expertise with some speeder.

 

We pulled into the parking lot and the officers were standing at the back of their open car trunk. We got out and walked toward them. We were immediately pelted with snowballs. That’s right–snowballs in Hollywood. Ok, picture this—four LAPD officers running around a parking lot in the middle of the night, having a snowball fight. The officers found the snow on a car in the Hollywood hills. They took some and set up an ambush for us. We all laughed and decided the lieutenant should not miss out in the fun. Dave and I went to the station and coaxed the ell-tee to come outside. As soon as he exited the back door he was pelted with snowballs. He thought this was great fun and didn’t want his Assistant Watch Commander (A W/C) to miss out.

 

The ell-tee walked into the Watch Commanders Office, past the A W/C and closed the door. The A W/C looked up then turned toward us as we walked through the other door. He was suspicious because we all had our hands behind our backs. He jumped up and tried to go through the door the lieutenant was holding closed from the other side. The A W/C was pelted with eight snowballs. We cleaned up the best we could but the custodian wanted to know how the carpet got so wet. Non-cop friends might think this is juvenile, but it relieves the stress and improved morale. Beside how many can say they had a snow ball fight in Los Angeles, let alone in the Hollywood Watch Commanders Office?

 

Next, court, and a few characters Dave enriched with his wisdom.           Hal

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Ramblings, More Character Short Stories

By Hal Collier LAPD, Retired

We are happy that 35-year veteran Hal Collier is sharing his ‘stories behind the badge’ with us.

This is going to be a long character story so I won’t start with a couple of short cop stories, but then most of what I’m about to write about is short stories. Some of the stories have been included in other Ramblings but most are worth repeating. A few I’m going to tell for the first time because the statute of limitations has run out and Dave is retiring from his last job in Oklahoma. That’s right: Dave Balleweg

 

A little history. Dave Balleweg transferred to Hollywood in 1975, during the Massage Parlor crackdown. I’m not sure which side he was on, pro or con for the massage parlors.

 

Dave worked Wilshire Division before coming to Hollywood. He use to work PM watch and then go to radio station KGBS at midnight and work as a disc jockey for 6 hours. He would stay after to listen to the radio team of Hudson & Landry, an underrated comedy team.

 

Dave has the personality that charms people. All the years I worked with Dave, we never had to fight a suspect into jail. He even got suspects to come to the station and turn themselves in. One female hype, Dee, came to the station on Thanksgiving, with a turkey in the oven. Others he had arrested, called Dave to snitch on other hypes. Dave’s sense of humor will show itself in the following stories.

 

I’m working Morning Watch. Yea, oh-dark-thirty to sunrise. I walk into the roll call room at start of watch and the first thing I notice is someone is sitting in my seat. That’s right Dave is sitting in my spot. I’m not superstitious about sitting in a certain seat. I knew one cop, Stan, who thought he would be gunned down if he didn’t sit in his regular seat.

Bet you thought all cops were sane.

 

Now, I’m not an old timer, with only 5 years’ experience, but then we have a pecking order and I do have some seniority. Dave is senior to me so I sit right behind him so I can keep an eye on him. The next night I beat him into roll call and sat in my seat, welcome to Hollywood, Dave.  Ha ha.

 

A few days later we were assigned to work together. We hit it right off, it was love at second sight. After work that night my ribs hurt from laughing for 8 hours.  For the next 7 years we sat next to each other in roll call. 

 

Now after 35 years on the LAPD, I’ve worked with a lot of partners, some good, and some bad. Some made 8 hours seem like an 18 hour day, others the time flew by. I was fortunate to work with some great partners who became lifelong friends. Most of my stories are from working with friends not partners. For my non-cop friends, cops develop strong bonds with their partners. They spend long hours riding around and talking. Then, in an instant they are fighting for their lives or protecting each other from harm. It can be a strange relationship.

 

I had a lot of fun experiences with Dave and most would never make a TV cop show—no one would believe them. One night in the late 70’s, it rained harder than it has ever rained in Los Angeles. Streets flooded and Laurel Canyon turned into a river. Cars and people were swept away. I wasn’t working with Dave that night. I was assigned to a damage control car as the city went on Tactical Alert. I was asked to check on Dave and his partner, Dale, who were directing traffic at Mulholland and Laurel Canyon—and had been there for 6 hours. I snaked my up to their location. By now, all the cops are wet. Our blue wool uniforms are soaked and we smell like a wet dog, our underwear and t-shirts have a blue tint from our uniforms. I drive up and there are Dave and Dale in the middle of Mulholland and Laurel Canyon. They’re skipping around and singing like sailors. I learned that the actor, Paul Michael Glaser, had given the officers a bottle of brandy. It was the good stuff too.

 

The next night Dave and I are working a damage control car. We’re checking on residences that had to be evacuated due to mud slide damage, see if barricades are in place on closed streets, etc.  Cahuenga East is flooded and barricades were placed in order to keep cars from driving into 5 feet of water. Dave and I drive up and see the roof of a submerged car.

 

There’s a man bobbing in and out of the driver’s window. Our detailed investigation revealed the man was a Sheriff’s Lieutenant, who had been at a club in North Hollywood and was taking a younger lady to her house for a nightcap. 

 

Some kids moved the barricades as a joke and watched as the lieutenant drove into ‘Lake Cahuenga’ as Dave named it. The lieutenant was bobbing for the lady’s purse. We got the lieutenant’s car pulled out and drove his lady friend home. The lieutenant’s main concern was that the story didn’t get out to his co-workers. We promised silence, but two days later the lieutenant asked to meet us at Lake Cahuenga. He ratted on himself and his friends proclaimed him Commandant of Lake Cahuenga. He tried to bribe us with 2 bottles of Cognac. 

 

Part-2 next week will have more Dave Balleweg stories.

Hal

Categories
Ramblings by Hal

Ramblings: Revenge and FLIR

The following story is true and comes from the memory of an old retired street cop.  These incidents happened and all on your tax dollar.

 

Dale Hickerson and I are partners and were driving west on Sunset Boulevard when we receive a MDT (Mobile Digital Terminal, an in-car computer) message. “Look at the old bald heads in that police car.” Now, we take immediate exception, Dale has a full head of hair. We look behind us and see two very young female officers. By young I mean they are still pooping Range Burgers, available at the police academy café during recruit training.

 

Dale and I laugh and plan revenge. We have to be careful, practical jokes now days are considered sexual harassment, discrimination, or a hostile work environment. Neither one of us wants to tap into our deferred compensation retirement program to defend a lawsuit. The lawyers have taken all the fun out of police work.  The next lawyer I stop for running a red light is getting a ticket.

 

We drive around until we spot a dead pigeon in the road. Dale and I look at each other and thank the patron saint of police officers. We scoop up the pigeon and look for our prey. They are at the station. Perfect—we don’t want the citizens of Hollywood to see us breaking into a police car and calling the Watch Commander.

 

We place the recently deceased bird under the front passenger seat of their car. It’s just out of sight but close enough that when the brakes are applied it will roll out from under the seat. We’re too busy to follow them around, but I hear the scream could be heard for miles.

 

Ok, I just made sergeant and I’m assigned to morning watch in Southeast Division (Watts). I’m learning that being a supervisor is different than being a street cop. I respond to a robbery that just occurred. The responding officers just missed the suspect and the helicopter is overhead. The helicopter is equipped with FLIR. That stands for Forward Looking InfraRed. It detects heat (like body heat) sources on the ground. It’s great for finding bad guys hiding on a hillside or in a park. It’s also good for finding a warm car after a pursuit.

 

The FLIR system has a few drawbacks. I was once directed to a spot in the bushes and came face to face with a very angry coyote. Another time we ordered a suspect to come out from a small enclosure attached to a house. It was a water heater.

 

Ok, back to Watts. The helicopter detects a hot spot in the alley behind the store. I grab a cop and head to the alley. I’m directed to an ivy covered fence. I tell the cop I’ll lift the ivy and you cover me with your gun. I lift the ivy and am immediately am overcome with an odor that would gag a seasoned coroner. My suspect is a very decomposed dead dog.

Next time I’ll supervise and leave the searching to the street cops. 

Categories
Ramblings by Hal

Ramblings, Characters, Jimmy Long Stick

The following stories are true to the best of my memory which is considered good. That’s because I still remember to wear my own underwear and shave with the black razor not the pink one. The character is alive, retired and living under an assumed name in Idaho. Bud Arce, aka “Jimmy Long Stick.”

First, my stories.

I’m sure that most cops have been fooled by crooks but they won’t admit it to anyone. Well, I was fooled a few times but I tried not to be fooled twice by the same con.

It’s Saturday night, we see a car full of gang members conduct a California rolling stop. For my non police friends that’s rolling through a stop sign. Whatever it’s called, it’s probable cause to stop the car and see what these hombres are up to. Before the liberal courts limited what officers could do on a traffic stop, this was a free ticket to get everybody out of the car, search them for weapons and check them all for warrants. So we figure we have a good catch.

Most cops are out hunting elephants (big game) not a traffic ticket. We stop the car and the driver immediately tells us, “The guys with the guns just turned the corner. If you hurry you can catch them. They are driving a blue Chevy.”

Oh shit, bad guys with guns? We got to catch them. We jump back into our cruiser and speed around the corner. Two blocks later we figure we’ve been screwed. I had visions of these gang members driving around, laughing at the dumb cops who are chasing non-existent crooks. I spent months looking for their car.

To my credit, it was tried a half dozen other times, but I only chased the phantom men with guns once. “Bird in the hand better than two in the bush.”

Here’s a story that still haunts me.  I’m driving eastbound on Virginia Avenue from Western. It about 3 A.M. and Virginia turns into Oxford. This northbound VW comes around the corner and almost hits us. Shit, I make a quick U-turn and watch as the VW turns southbound into an alley. Damn, he’s trying to lose us. I turn into the alley and see the VW only 250 feet ahead of us. OK, we got him now!  I watch as the VW glances off a telephone pole and continues southbound. The alley runs into Flemish Lane. I’m closing and arrest is certain. The VW is slowing down and about to cross Santa Monica Boulevard.  I was relieved when it clears cross traffic and rolls up a driveway into a parking lot. The VW crashes into a parked car. We stop behind the VW and order the driver out. No response. We approach and discover the VW is now empty.

I look at my partner and he has the same “Aw shit” look on his face that I have. The driver must have bailed out in the alley before we turned into it. The suspect jumped out while it was moving and it continued through the alley and across Santa Monica Boulevard. The VW was stolen, so we have a Recovered Vehicle Report, a Traffic Accident report at two locations: once when it hit the telephone pole and the second collision when it hit the parked car. That’s it, we’re done for the rest of the night.

We finish all the reports and submit them to the Watch Commander for approval. He reads all the reports and then tells us we shouldn’t have taken the Traffic Accident reports.

He said the car crash was City Property Involved (CPI) by influence. In other words, because we were chasing this guy we sort of caused the accident. We could have saved ourselves hours of reports if we knew better. I’ll learn as you’ll see in my next story.

I’m driving southbound Western approaching Santa Monica. The car in front of me makes a left turn right through the red light. He’s weaving back and forth. He’s drunk. He is now entering the Hollywood Freeway. Damn, this guy is very drunk and now he’s going to get on the freeway. We turn on the red lights and give the siren a quick blast. Nothing, he has now accelerated to 35 mph and is weaving between two traffic lanes.

My partner picks up the microphone and says I’m putting us in pursuit. I tell him, “No wait, just say were following a possible DUI.” Once you say pursuit, a sergeant has a bunch of paperwork to complete and he won’t be happy. The entire police department will listen as you follow a drunk at 35 mph—not the stuff Joe Wambaugh writes about. So we broadcast were following, not in pursuit, of a drunk driver southbound on the Hollywood Freeway. The drunk makes it all the way to the four level interchange in downtown L.A. before he crashes. We get him out of the car and of course he’s not hurt. Drunk drivers are never hurt in crashes.

The CHP shows up and wants to know, did the drunk know you were following him? I say, “No.”  No CPI. We give the whole thing to the CHP and go have a Pinks Hot Dog.  My sergeant is happy, no pursuit report. The driver had an alcohol level of .30, almost 4 times the legal limit now.

See, sometimes I learn a lesson.

Character: Jimmy long Stick

This Hollywood Character didn’t work Hollywood for his entire career, like some of us, but he made an impression with everyone he was around. Unlike my other stories, I wasn’t present for some of these incidents but they have been passed down from different officers and are just too funny not to share.

Most of the stories I’m about to describe are true and can be verified by no less than six registered Republicans, some sober. Before the political correctness illness took over the LAPD, cops had a lot of fun while still doing a difficult job. It’s how cops deal with the horrors they see on a daily basis. Practical jokes were a way of life in the LAPD.

The first few stories involve a captain that was at Hollywood during the early 70’s. He was a drunk and often could be seen driving around Hollywood with his wife during the late night hours. I once got a call to back up the captain on Sunset Boulevard with a drunk man. My captain was wrestling this drunk in the parkway. I arrived and the captain said, “The drunk was about to stagger out into traffic.”  It was a toss-up who was drunker.

The Captain’s Office was next door to the station in the old Hollywood Receiving Hospital. The building was also the offices of Narcotics or Vice. Anyway officers would come into the building late at night and find the captain passed out in his office on the floor. I heard that Jimmy Long Stick would place a card with the date and time in front of the passed out Captain and take a picture. I believe it was called insurance.

This captain was also a smoker and was constantly patting his pockets to find his cigarette package. It was rumored that Jimmy Long Stick would place snails in his pockets and wait for him to pat his pockets.

I know there are many other Jimmy Long Stick stories but I’m going to finish up with a story that legends are made from. Jimmy Long Stick was working Hollywood Detectives and he had to go to New Mexico to pick up a couple of wanted persons. Jimmy Long Stick and Dave Lovestedt, another Hollywood character, were given the task to drive an unmarked city car to New Mexico and pick up these miscreants. They arrived the night before they were due to take the suspects back and decided to spend some of the per-diem the city gives officers for overnight extraditions.

The local constable usually shows the Detectives the town’s sights which might include a cantina or two. The sun rises and Dave Lovestedt awakes in the hotel room alone. He notices that their city car is gone as well as Jimmy Long Stick. Maybe Jimmy Long Stick went for a little food. Dave sits on the bed and turns on the TV to the local news channel. Instead of news the founding fathers parade is on the TV. Dave sits back and wondering where Jimmy Long Stick is, watches the parade.

The parade is the usual small town parade, high school band, local dignitaries, an equestrian unit or two. As the end of the parade appears on the TV, Dave sees a dark police-type car, very similar to the one they drove to New Mexico. Dave leans forward and watch’s as the TV camera zooms in on the last entry in the parade. That’s right it’s Jimmy Long Stick, leaning out the car window, waving to the crowd. True story.

Your probably wondering why Bud Arce was called Jimmy Long Stick. I was wondering the same thing so I asked him. After a distinguished career with the LAPD, Bud Arce retired and moved to Idaho. Now Bud is half-Mexican and it was easier to blend in as a native Indian than Mexican. So Bud Arce became “Jimmy Long Stick.”

Bud Arce, another Hollywood Character.