Guy.
I know I said I'd write about this other guy, the one I'll call Guy. So I'm writing about Guy. He was mentally ill. When he was on his medication he was great. When he went off the meds, or the meds had to be adjusted, he could be a problem.
Guy was never as dangerous as Kid. He could have been, he was just much less prone to violence. Had Guy been prone to violence we could have had some real problems. Guy was a big man. Guy had served in the Marine Corp and seen action in Vietnam. Guy's mental illness did not "show up" until he was well into his thirties. He must have hid it well, or been able to control it through force of will. He was in his early forties when I first met him. Guy had a loving family. His extended family took good care of him. When we dealt with Guy we knew we could always call his grandmother, she could always keep him in line. Guy loved his grandmother.
We had this Captain, a Vietnam vet also, who always went out of his way for Guy. Some of the other older cops, the 'Nam vets, they looked out for him too. We were told from day one to treat Guy with respect. We were told to call the Captain or one of the other vets if he got out of control. All we ever really had to do was tell Guy that we were calling his grandmother, then he would get in the rig with the medics and go the hospital voluntarily. They knew him down at the ER. A couple days of observation, a change in his meds and Guy was good to go. Then his grandmother died.
One night we rolled up on Guy who was in the middle of the street, naked, drawing what looked like a big space ship on the pavement with sidewalk chalk. It was very late, about 0300, and it was a quiet one way residential street so traffic was not an issue. My partner, who was himself a former Marine, always got along with Guy quite well. My partner was not a 'Nam vet, he was far too young, but the Marine Corp thing seemed to be their connection. My partner was big too, almost as big as Guy.
I stood by the car while my partner walked up to talk to Guy. We were pretty sure he was not carrying any weapons. Guy was never known to carry weapons. Like I was saying before, Guy was stark naked as well. Kind of hard to conceal anything when you are naked. It can be done, but it would be very uncomfortable I'm sure.
So Guy said he was drawing the space ship as sort of a landing beacon. Guy said his people were coming to get him and take him home. My partner asked him where home was and Guy said that home was in Japan. Guy said he was Japanese. Oh, did I mention that Guy was African American? Guy did not look Japanese. Guy's grandmother once told me that she was born in Virginia. She said her husband was from New York.
Utelizing our combined powers of observation, my partner and I concluded that Guy was in fact going off the deep end again. We could not invoke his grandmother's name because sadly she had passed away a couple months prior. So, My partner asks Guy if he wants to take a ride down and see the doctor. Guy stands up, his knees and hands covered with sidewalk chalk dust. Guy glares at my partner. I'm thinking, here we go. Instead of a fight we had a chase. Guy took off on a dead run. For a guy his size, he could run. Down the street and out onto the Avenue. Cars honking and hitting the brakes while Guy ran full steam, naked, down the middle of the four lane busy main street. I started to laugh. My partner was laughing too. It's hard to run when your laughing. It messes with your breathing. It throws off your cadence.
Guy finally stopped. He turned and smiled as if he were waiting for us. Guy laughed at us. Guy said it was pretty sad that a couple of twenty somethings got beat out by an "old man". Guy told my partner that he was making the Corp look bad. Guy said we should stop eating all those free donuts.
A tavern owner came towards us. He had been locking up the bar when he saw us run down the street. The tavern owner had a table cloth that he gave us to wrap around Guy. We walked the three blocks back to the radio car. Fortunately it was still there. In the excitement of the chase. The "dog pile on the rabbit" syndrome, I had left it running in the middle of the street. We put Guy in the back of the car and called for the medics.
At the hospital, Guy asked us to stay with him until the doctors could see him. We stayed. The nurses were afraid of him. We told them not to be. They didn't believe us.
Guy was a good guy. Guy died about ten years after that incident. I was already retired from injuries when I heard he had passed away. I hope he's with his grandmother now. I hope the voices in his head left him when he moved on.
Guy was never as dangerous as Kid. He could have been, he was just much less prone to violence. Had Guy been prone to violence we could have had some real problems. Guy was a big man. Guy had served in the Marine Corp and seen action in Vietnam. Guy's mental illness did not "show up" until he was well into his thirties. He must have hid it well, or been able to control it through force of will. He was in his early forties when I first met him. Guy had a loving family. His extended family took good care of him. When we dealt with Guy we knew we could always call his grandmother, she could always keep him in line. Guy loved his grandmother.
We had this Captain, a Vietnam vet also, who always went out of his way for Guy. Some of the other older cops, the 'Nam vets, they looked out for him too. We were told from day one to treat Guy with respect. We were told to call the Captain or one of the other vets if he got out of control. All we ever really had to do was tell Guy that we were calling his grandmother, then he would get in the rig with the medics and go the hospital voluntarily. They knew him down at the ER. A couple days of observation, a change in his meds and Guy was good to go. Then his grandmother died.
One night we rolled up on Guy who was in the middle of the street, naked, drawing what looked like a big space ship on the pavement with sidewalk chalk. It was very late, about 0300, and it was a quiet one way residential street so traffic was not an issue. My partner, who was himself a former Marine, always got along with Guy quite well. My partner was not a 'Nam vet, he was far too young, but the Marine Corp thing seemed to be their connection. My partner was big too, almost as big as Guy.
I stood by the car while my partner walked up to talk to Guy. We were pretty sure he was not carrying any weapons. Guy was never known to carry weapons. Like I was saying before, Guy was stark naked as well. Kind of hard to conceal anything when you are naked. It can be done, but it would be very uncomfortable I'm sure.
So Guy said he was drawing the space ship as sort of a landing beacon. Guy said his people were coming to get him and take him home. My partner asked him where home was and Guy said that home was in Japan. Guy said he was Japanese. Oh, did I mention that Guy was African American? Guy did not look Japanese. Guy's grandmother once told me that she was born in Virginia. She said her husband was from New York.
Utelizing our combined powers of observation, my partner and I concluded that Guy was in fact going off the deep end again. We could not invoke his grandmother's name because sadly she had passed away a couple months prior. So, My partner asks Guy if he wants to take a ride down and see the doctor. Guy stands up, his knees and hands covered with sidewalk chalk dust. Guy glares at my partner. I'm thinking, here we go. Instead of a fight we had a chase. Guy took off on a dead run. For a guy his size, he could run. Down the street and out onto the Avenue. Cars honking and hitting the brakes while Guy ran full steam, naked, down the middle of the four lane busy main street. I started to laugh. My partner was laughing too. It's hard to run when your laughing. It messes with your breathing. It throws off your cadence.
Guy finally stopped. He turned and smiled as if he were waiting for us. Guy laughed at us. Guy said it was pretty sad that a couple of twenty somethings got beat out by an "old man". Guy told my partner that he was making the Corp look bad. Guy said we should stop eating all those free donuts.
A tavern owner came towards us. He had been locking up the bar when he saw us run down the street. The tavern owner had a table cloth that he gave us to wrap around Guy. We walked the three blocks back to the radio car. Fortunately it was still there. In the excitement of the chase. The "dog pile on the rabbit" syndrome, I had left it running in the middle of the street. We put Guy in the back of the car and called for the medics.
At the hospital, Guy asked us to stay with him until the doctors could see him. We stayed. The nurses were afraid of him. We told them not to be. They didn't believe us.
Guy was a good guy. Guy died about ten years after that incident. I was already retired from injuries when I heard he had passed away. I hope he's with his grandmother now. I hope the voices in his head left him when he moved on.
posted by Squarehead at 10:31 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home