By Ed Meckle, Retired LAPD
Here is an addition to Ed’s first post about Sully (posted here on June 1, 2016).
Sitting across from him in a cafeteria watching while he poured dressing on his salad, then discovered he had not removed the plastic wrap. I watched him mop up the dressing and squeeze it onto his salad never once giving any indication he had done anything wrong.
Interviewing witnesses on the street and later discovering that Sully had written notes on the white roof of a police car. Yes, we found the car.
Walking out of the room and leaving a man seated across from me at the squad table. When the man begins applauding, I asked, “What the devil are you doing?”
“That Detective [Sully] told me to keep clapping while he was gone so he would know I wasn’t stealing anything.”
God, I wish that had been my line.
When he gave directions to “turn right when you see the sign for the sheriff’s station” and the sign turned out to be the Shalom Jewish Cemetery with the six-pointed star. Think about it.
The day he poked me in the ribs with a half-eaten Milky Way candy bar to get my attention. I was wearing a suit and we both looked at the glob of chocolate on my jacket, we both looked at the candy bar and then as a small child would, he put the candy behind him, looked off into space and said, “What?” I couldn’t help but laugh.
His name was RICHARD L. SULLIVAN and he is gone now. I loved him and miss him. He was my best friend.
We have all heard of the celebrity doing something with his five hundred best friends. Not likely. Best means just that: the best.
How do I define “best friend?” He shows up at 3 am with a shovel and a bag of quick lime when you have phoned him to tell him you killed someone. Sully was my best friend.
I will leave you to wonder………………
