1982 CHP Mustang E870255

[MOstang]

Very scary!

[Steve]

I took 0327 out for a drive today to shake off the rust and the experience of being behind the wheel of an 82 SSP again brought back many memories, including the time 0255 and I stopped a speeder who attempted to assault me, later filed a complaint, and ultimately was thwarted by state-of-the-art technology that was way ahead of its time in light of the body camera debates and deployments we are seeing today. How’s that for an intro?
It was just after noon, a sunny day, 0255 and I were working on the East side of the Los Banos area, rolling Westbound on State Route 152 about 20 miles East of Los Banos, when we observed a high roller pass by heading Eastbound. A “high roller” is a speeder moving greatly in excess of the speed limit; there is no exact definition but 30-40 mph or more is about right.
We accelerated to the next cross road and made a U turn, then went after him. He apparently had not seen us as he passed by because he continued at high speed; I had to peg 0255 at the top end (~117 mph) to overtake the vehicle and it still took 4 or 5 miles. I had only a visual estimate but between 90 and 95 was about right. He slowed and took the exit ramp to another State highway and I was on him; made the stop on a wide gravel shoulder area and walked up to make contact on the driver’s side.
The driver was an older, very large (heavy) man. It was strange; instead of just rolling the window down he opened the driver’s door about halfway and turned to face me as I approached. My cheerful “Good Afternoon” was answered with a string of obscenities: What is my problem, why the hell am I stopping him, etc., ad nauseum. I immediately reached down to my belt and turned on my microcassete tape recorder, state-of-the-art technology at the time, to capture the audio of this event. I let him run his mouth until he seemed to be temporarily finished, then asked for and got his registration and license. I walked back to 0255 and wrote out the citation. I returned and, standing in the open V of the door, handed it to him. A few more curses; I explained to him that he did have to sign the cite, if he wanted to contest it he could do so in court. To my surprise he did sign. I was thinking this was too easy, but then things took a turn for the worse. He pointed to some open space in the body of the citation and said “I’m going to write right here that you’re a goddammed liar!” I told him that the citation was an official court document and that he could not do that. He replied “Oh, yes I am!” I said “No, you’re not!” and reached down to remove the cite book and my pen out of his hands. He held on to them and a brief struggle ensued. I yanked them free and stepped back. Enraged, he shouted another string of obscenities as he turned even more in my direction and attempted to kick me with his right leg, coming across the front of his body and past his left leg. It was ridiculous, he was slow, and I simply stepped out of the way and watched as his foot flailed in the air.
Technically, he had assaulted me, and I could have arrested him. But he simply wasn’t worth it. If I arrested him I’d have to wrestle with him and he’d probably have a heart attack then I’d have to do CPR or explain why I didn’t. I had the signed cite. I tore off his copy of the citation, dropped it into his lap, and walked back to 0255. I could hear him shouting all the way back to 0255.
I didn’t think anything more about it until about 3 weeks later; my Sergeant told me “we needed to talk”. “Mr. Smith”, it seemed (the name is changed to protect the guilty) had come into the office and filed a citizens complaint against me. This was the high-roller from a few weeks back. Mr. Smith had already provided his version of the narrative: He was minding his own business, driving at the speed limit, when for no reason I stopped him. To make matters worse, when he protested that he had done nothing wrong and I gave him the ticket anyway, I physically assaulted him, then threatened him.
I told the Sergeant my side, then produced the audio tape of the incident. I had captured the entire event. He took the tape and said he’d get back to me.
A few days later the Sergeant gave me back the tape. He said he had listened to it carefully, then contacted Mr. Smith and asked him to come back in. At that meeting he asked Mr. Smith to go over his version again, then asked some questions. Mr. Smith, apparently emboldened and thinking he had me on the ropes, laid the BS on even thicker. When he was finished it almost sounded as though for no reason I had practically beaten and left him for dead along the roadway. The Sergeant played the tape for Mr. Smith’s benefit. Mr. Smith’s normally-red face turned ashen. Then, as the Sgt. told me, he essentially threw Smith out of the office. I never heard anything about it again, and the complaint was classified “Unfounded” which is CHP’s way of saying it was BS. But I was sure glad I had that microcassette recorder. It saved me a lot of trouble. In today’s society body cams are essential imo.
That was the one and only citizen complaint I ever received in my 5 years with CHP.

[MOstang]

Holy cow! It's great you had that "technology"! Love the stories.

[Steve]

Yes, it was a glimpse into the future and as primitive as it was comparison to today, it did its job and saved me that time.

But there was at least one other technology in use, at least experimental, way before that. I was looking at the website CHP Radio Systems and was impressed by the CHP's experimental "dash cam" from the late 1930's shown in the pic below. I applaud their willingness to apply new technology, but no wonder this never saw deployment.

I could just imagine stopping the high roller, then telling him "Hold on, I gotta go start the dash cam".

Then knowing that I have a limited amount of cam time, perhaps telling him "Hurry up and get all of your cursing done because we're about out of film" (assuming it had audio). Or even "If you're going to do anything crazy, like try to kick me, could you hurry up? There's only 90 seconds of film left!" LOL

[Unmrkd]

That was quite an innovation for that time. Looking at all the interior - the "Safety" features we enjoy just were not there. Can you imagine a roll over with no belts or bags??? WOW!

I do like that uniform and man oh man what a hat.

[28HopUp]

For some reason I missed your latest story. Thanks for sharing!

[Steve]

Originally Posted by Unmrkd

That was quite an innovation for that time. Looking at all the interior - the "Safety" features we enjoy just were not there. Can you imagine a roll over with no belts or bags??? WOW!

I do like that uniform and man oh man what a hat.

The spartan interior, the harpoon-style steering column, and the hat...that hat...Ralph Kramden would have given anything for a hat like that, and Barney Fife would be jealous!

[Steve]

I can't do much else while 0327 is in the shop; so I was thinking about a week or so ago when I was driving 0327 at night to fill up on gas and we ran over a skunk. Not intentionally, but the varmint ran out there and despite evasive action it was history (took 3 days for the odor under 0327 to go away).

But that reminded me of the time when 0255 and I surprised a group of roadkill-eating birds in Los Banos. "Surprised" because they weren't expecting a vehicle to roll up on them at the speed we typically operated when doing a beat check.

I’ve racked up a lot of windshield time, on a lot of roads, and have seen plenty of roadkill. There are certain places where there is more than usual and one of those is State Route 152 about 25 miles west of Los Banos, CA. SR 152 comes down from the hills past a large water storage and hydroelectric facility then flattens out for about 5 miles. In one section of this flat stretch there are prairie dog holes everywhere on both sides of the highway. As you can guess they liked to cross the road and some never made it. So there was always plenty of roadkill available for local scavenger birds, and it attracted many. Various birds; the smaller ones would fly in and get what they could until the bigger vultures or hawks, whatever they were, would come in and take over. What always amazed and entertained me was how the birds were quite used to feasting on the roadkill as vehicles approached at high speed and would wait until the last possible second, as if on cue, all flying away at precisely the same time and somehow avoid impact. How do they do it? Is it an evolved feeding skill? Do they like to play chicken?

One hot afternoon 0255 and I were making a beat check. Traffic was very light, we were cruising at 85 mph; mirages danced above the roadway ahead, and the roadkill feeders were out in force. I could see a group of several large birds feasting in our lane ahead; these were big, ugly birds perhaps vultures. We were bearing down on them fast and I marveled at how casually they pecked away at the roadkill, looking nonchalant even as their fate approached at 125 feet per second. Just as we were about to hit them they bailed but perhaps due to our higher speed their calibration was a little off and they were late. They just barely made it over the top of 0255’s hood except for one. He flew right into 0255’s grill. There was a loud bang and a cloud of feathers went up. I looked at the rearview mirror and saw the bird landing in the traffic lane among a swirl of feathers.

When I got back to the office I inspected 0255. I figured it might need a new grill because the impact was considerable. Large gobs of feathers were stuck in the grill, but fortunately there was no damage. After cleanup, 0255 was good to go again.
The irony was not lost: the roadkill hunter had become the roadkill.