Combat-Wombat's post got me thinking about the several "encounters" I've had with police over the years. One of the posters mentioned "Terry" stops, a term I've never heard. I've always used the term "rousts."
Anyway, I've been detained on suspicion of rape (suspect description was a black male, early 20's), suspicion of burglary, suspicion of murder, and just general suspiciousness.
The last time was in 1998 or 1999. I was in California on my motorcyle, and had been down to Big Sur. I was heading up to Lake Tahoe, and decided to stop in East Sacramento to get a motel for the night.
I was cruising up and down the main drag where all the motels and restaurants are when I saw the flashing lights in my mirror.
The officer, a young guy, walked up to me as I sat on my bike. Bear in mind that my hair was neatly trimmed, I'd been wearing my helmet, and I was wearing a clean leather vest over a button-down pinstripe shirt.
"What's the problem, officer?" I asked.
"I can't read your plates."
I got off the cycle to see what he was talking about. On my plates, it reads "WIS" in the lower left corner. I have two little reflectors on the plate mounting screws. The left one cuts into the lower left corner of the W in WIS by about 1/16".
"That's Wisconsin," I said.
"I can't read it."
I started to reach into my vest pocket to get my regisration. His hand went on his gun, and before I knew it I was across the hood of the squad.
After he'd frisked me, he allowed me to stand up and show him my license, registration and insurance card.
"What are you doing in Sacramento?"
"I'm on vacation, and was looking for a motel."
"What are you doing in California?"
"I'm travelling all over the West. I just came from Big Sur, and I'm now heading to Lake Tahoe."
He took my license and registration back to the squad, after telling me not to move.
While he was running my plates, another squad arrived, and the officer positioned the car off the road. He just sat in there watching me.
The first officer got out of his squad and came back to me.
"I'm not getting a reply yet on your plate."
"It's Wisconsin," I said. I then reached into my shirt pocket to get a cigarette.
His hand went back on his gun, and I was back on the hood of the squad.
Once he let me stand up again, I said, "I was just going to have a cigarette. Is that OK?"
"No. I don't like them."
He then went back to the squad.
This was now about 45 minutes that I'd been detained.
He came back from the squad and said, "I can't find anything on your plates. You can go. But find someplace else to stay other than Sacramento."
"Fine," I replied. "Where's the nearest entrance for the interstate?"
*******
The suspicion of murder roust was back in the early 80's. I was with my wife and a friend of mine. We were sitting in a small bar owned by my friend's father.
A coin dealer had been shot and killed in his driveway. The only description the police had was the suspect was wearing a black leather jacket.
Well, so was I that night.
The two officers had me over the bar, and were frisking me.
The other patrons of the bar were yelling at the officers, saying that I'd been there for hours. I suggested to the officers that it might be better if they took me outside.
They agreed, but my friend followed us. With his usual bravado, he stood at the door of the bar, swearing at the officers.
One officer looked at my friend and said, "you realize we can throw your friend here in jail for the night, right?"
I turned to my friend and said, "Henry, get back in the damn bar."
A few more squads came by, as various officers wanted to look at me.
I suspect the two officers knew early on they were talking to the wrong person, but needed a way to save face. Once my friend was back inside, and after every officer in the precinct had looked me over, I was free to go.
