By Mikey, Retired LAPD
Doc Moggie and the Burglar
Doc “Moggie” was a medical doctor who was the pre-misdemeanor booking MD who screened arrestees for any medical issues prior to booking. He lived in the Highland Park area of LA, which was patrolled by Northeast Division.
One evening while at home Doc Moggie was confronted by a burglar who pretty much had his way including leaving the Doctor seriously injured from a severe beating. Several months passed before the good doctor returned to work, but considering the beating the man received, he recovered well enough that he had no signs of the injuries.
Fast forward a couple of months after the doctor’s return to duty. A Northeast morning watch patrol unit made a drunk-in-public arrest and transported the man to jail division. Prior to him being booked, the officers took him to the dispensary for his medical check. It was about 0200 so the nurse had to go and wake Doc Moggie for the exam. Now, the arrestee was handcuffed, sitting in a sofa-type chair and leaning back on his handcuffed hands. One officer was filling out the paper work and the other standing next to the seated arrestee. The nurse reentered the dispensary followed by Doc Moggie. The doctor seated himself behind his desk and started to ask the arrestee the medical questions, when for the first time, Moggie looked up at the arrestee.
According to the officers, Moggie yelled, “You son of a bitch,” leaped over his desk ran to the seated arrestee and began to knock the hell out of the man. The stunned officers and nurse could not believe their eyes!
The officers, thinking Moggie had “lost it,” pulled the still swinging doctor off the arrestee and got between the two.
The nurse yelled, “Stop.”
Doc Moggie’s response, “That’s the son of a bitch that broke into my home and beat me!”
So, Doc Moggie got his physical revenge, the arrestee was booked for burglary, the coppers saw old fashion justice and the nurse never looked at the doctor the same way again.
Noxzema and the 5150
At 0740, near our end of watch, my partner and I were northbound Figueroa St. at Marmion Way. We were returning from jail division just having booked a man with a warrant.
A group of pedestrians saw us and start frantically pointing at an apartment building. There for all the world to see is a naked man standing next to an opened 3rd floor window throwing records, vinyl’s, LPs, you get it, out the window. We stop the cruiser, enter the building and proceed to the 3rd floor to the man’s apartment. The door was unlocked so we pushed it open.
For the first time, I see what we are up against. He has covered himself with Noxzema and his own fecal matter. The odor was overbearing! Before we could attempt any form of dialog, the man charged us. The fight was on!
Back up units arrived shortly after we had the guy handcuffed, but the officers would not enter the apartment. The LAFD paramedics arrived and they wrapped the guy in several sheets to transport him to county general hospital. My partner and I were not very popular at the hospital or when we arrived back to the station.
We proceeded to the garage where we disrobed and were given arrestee gowns. Our equipment remained in the garage while my partner and I showered. The unit was towed downtown for whatever. I don’t think it ever came back to Northeast.
I can’t remember what the new equipment and uniforms cost, but I’ve still got that pungent odor playing itself around in my head.
I was working Northeast Division morning watch (12 midnight to 0800) with my partner, Ruben. He has been in court most of the day prior and did not get a lot of sleep so around 0200 we take code 7(meal break) at the station. Now, this is the old station on York Boulevard built in the early twenties so it is old even in 1977. It’s the LAPD museum today. Ruben crashed in one of the old holding cells so I headed to my locker to get some change for the food vending machine. Our roll call and locker rooms were in the basement of the station, so down I went. I had the door open and was grabbing some change when I felt “something” brush my back. It was as if a person had walked past and brushed up against me. Startled, I turned around and saw that there was no one there. Then a feeling “get out,” came over me. I slammed the locker door shut and shot up the stairs, landing in a chair at the desk area. I was still breathing hard when the watch commander walked in, took one look at me and said, (yes, he did—he said,) “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” The second I finished my story, two coppers and a sergeant, guns drawn, were in the locker room looking for whatever. If you are an old Northeast copper and experienced the paranormal, you ain’t alone brother.
On another night working Northeast morning watch, my partner Scott and I were asked to switch channels at the request of another unit. The officers asked that we meet them at a location near Eastern Avenue and Huntington Drive. Rich H. and Steve F. are two of the best street coppers I’ve ever worked with; their tactics are rock solid. They inform us that they thought they had heard a shot and it sounded like it had come from a location down a narrow alley. To either sides of the alley are car ports and garages so we have plenty of cover as we make our way through the alley. Scott and I are on the right side of the alley and Rich and Steve are on the left. With guns drawn. off we go. There was some overhead lighting on the streets to either side of the alley so we were not in total darkness. Using our flashlights was not an option as we did not want to give the “who-so-evers” targets. All was going well, I mean we were mini SWAT going up that alley using hand signals and all, very impressive. I saw Rich move into a car port and take cover behind a wall. Just as Steve started to move, Rich yelled “Holy S—T, Holy S—T” and started the weirdest gyrations I’ve ever seen a man do WITH GUN IN HAND! “Spiders, Spiders. Get them off me!” Well, cover blown, flashlights on, illuminating Rich, to heck with the “shooter,” get the friggin spiders! You see, Rich has this thing for spiders. He walked into a web and the rest is history. Coppers are only human too.
Every so often a police division will loan an officer to another division for a special assignment. If that loan becomes a permanent transfer, they must transfer another officer back. That’s were Jeff comes in. Rampart Division owed us an officer and, just like Fidel Castro, they didn’t give us the cream of the crop. In fact, they gave us Jeff. Now, the short time Jeff was assigned to Hollywood he made quite a reputation for himself. No one wanted to work with Jeff.
Jeff stopped my wife for speeding. Actually, she was going five mph over the posted speed limit. Now, in my 35 year career I’ve stopped about a dozen police officers for traffic violations. I never wrote one a ticket; the same for firemen. You called it professional courtesy. I have been stopped three times, once in Texas, and never had a ticket. Well my wife mentions my name to Jeff. 
It was the winter of 1978 and as I recall the rain was relentless, not unlike what we have just experienced this year (2016). I was working Morning Watch with my partner Larry A. who liked to drive. At about 0100 hours on a weekday morning we were responding to a radio call in one of the many hillside communities of Northeast Division. It had been raining earlier so we were driving on slick roads. Larry decided we would take a short cut to the call and drove off the paved road and onto a very narrow dirt, and now very muddy road. 
Larry’s window. Larry and I were in a left banking turn/slide and the movement was not stopping.
Just as they leave to investigate, our cruiser starts making more slipping noises, damn, so close. After what seemed like the entire watch, the guys came back with a very tired looking guy and his JEEP! The guy hooks up the unit, crawls back to his machine and starts cranking away. He re-hooks the car in another location and does this a couple more times until he can winch it up to the pavement. With flash lights in hand the four of us inspect the cruiser and find it muddy, but without any damage! We asked the Jeep owner what he drank and preceded to obtain the case of beer from a supermarket which will remain nameless. After telling the night manager what had happened he provided us with the Jeep owners reward.