Saturday night races
When you start to read this, you will think that I am talking about the Rome Speedway. No, I am writing about the car races, foot races and all other kinds that come from being a police officer. They can occur at any time of the day or night and I have been involved in all of them.
When you are young, you are foolish. It is in most of us that, while we are young, we are the best. There were times when it was a let-down to get beat by someone.
Take the time when my partner and I were chasing a car out through the Armuchee area and he turned onto the Old Dalton Road and I drove by it. At the Old School Road, though, I made it back onto Old Dalton and the chase was on again. There, where the lake is, I was pushing him so hard he decided to stop.
But just as his taillights came on, my police car came to a sudden stop. It felt like someone had grabbed it from the rear. The radio went out and we were in the middle of the road with everything off; nothing was working. I stepped out onto the road in time to see the car we were chasing take off at a high rate of speed. I raised the hood to find the battery hanging by one of the cables, almost dragging the road.
I managed to get the battery back into its box. I put the hot cable on and, with a rock, managed to get it back down on the post. Everything started to work again. I drove back to headquarters and told the captain what had happened. I found out the next day that the mechanic had put in a new battery and forgot to fasten it in the box. We were lucky that when the battery fell out we did not wreck the patrol car.
That wasn’t the only time that I can remember being lucky enough not to wreck the patrol car.
When I went on the department, Turner Mccall ended there where Ralph and Blanche had a cafe. It was in a corner next to the apartment house where Turner Mccall intercepted East Second Avenue. The highway ended with a barricade and a high pile of dirt.
On this night we caught two people coming out of Elliot Sales. They jumped into a car and sped off. We followed with siren and blue lights on. They turned down the road beside the railroad tracks and made it to Brooks Avenue — which is now Turner Mccall. In pursuit, we headed toward the barricade and the high pile of dirt. They hit the barricade and it went flying into the air. The car went over the top of the dirt.
I managed to get the patrol car stopped about halfway to the top of the dirt. Dirt, smoke and screams pierced the night. I believe half the people that lived on Brooks Avenue were woke up. We scrambled from the patrol car and made it to the top of the dirt pile. I shined my light and saw two people scrambling to get out of the car, which was upside down.
We got them and put them in the patrol car. It was a miracle that they were not hurt. With the car behind a wrecker we took them to headquarters and I turned the key on them.
Every time my partner and I talked about it, we would shake our heads. Oh yes, did I mention that it was two girls in the car? And I almost forgot to say that the car was a new Cadillac belonging to someone’s daddy. Wonder what Daddy said when he saw the top of his new Cadillac — with less than 100 miles on it — flattened down to where you could not tell what it was.
When I went on the Police Department I was young and fast. We would line up at Fifth and Broad and race to the Krystal. Last one there would have to buy the hamburgers. After the captain put me in the car with The Whizz I had a few good foot races. This is one that stands out in my mind:
There was a grocery store on South Broad called Thomas. Purse-snatching went on there. We got a call that a lady’s purse had been snatched, and the culprit was going down South Broad. The only description was that he was wearing a red pullover shirt. As we approached East Main I saw him. “Get him,” Whizz yelled as he pulled in beside him. He looked at the police car and took off.
I jumped out and went after him. He was no match. I had him by the belt before we had gone half a block. He still had the purse in his hand.
I can say I ran foot races with some of the best in those days.
One time we got a call on a shoplifter who had stolen a new pair of shoes from a store in the mall. My partner and I came in from Turner Mccall just as a description was given. We were going toward East Second Avenue, where the road made a bend, and I saw him.
At that time, the only thing in that area was the bowling alley. I hit the ground running. Just as he made a jump for the river, I grabbed him. I held him, but the new shoes that he carried fell into the river. I took him back to the car. We locked him up for shoplifting but, needless to say, we didn’t get the shoes from the river.