Wha'cha Gonna Do When They Come For You?

I'm going old-school. A few years back, I posted a four-part-series on my xanga page - dedicated to the hard working men and women of Police Departments, especially the Kenosha P.D. Some will have read or heard these tales before...others are in for a treat. A peek into just what it's like to be me. My Mom urged me (back in the day) not to share my stories, as people may think less of me. I've found, however, that some people find some of these recounts rather hilarious. So, without further adu...

Part 1 of 4

My childhood best friend, Amie, and I were sledding in Lincoln Park. As I was stood at the bottom of the hill I looked up to see Amie, walking halfway up the hill in her pink snowsuit. Her classmate, Michael Kilbourn, walked down to meet her. As he did, for no apparent reason, he picked up his snowboard and slammed it into her face. Breaking her glasses, chipping her tooth, and causing blood to go everywhere. In a fit of absolute rage I took off up the hill and tackled the kid and began punching him in the face. I turned and instructed Amie to start walking home, as I then took off running to her house, where I told her dad everything that had happened. He bolted out the front door, with me at his heals, and we found Amie walking up the block…followed shortly behind by an officer in his squad car who had seen the whole thing. The WHOLE thing. Including me. And was on my side about it! He said that I gave the kid what he deserved and that he’d leave that part out of the report. That was the was the day that began it all - the first time I had to sit in the back of a police car. Locked in the back seat, giving a report.

Naomi Omdahl and I (back in the days when wearing big puffy Starter jackets made you "cool" - in the early 90's?) went to SEARS to get our pictures taken. We set our appointment and then stopped by the bathroom to "freshen up". AFTER all of that, we were told that we need an adult with us to get pictures taken. We had no other choice but to leave. On our way out we were stopped by an off duty undercover Pleasant Prairie police officer at the entrance of the store. We were scared half-to-death, as he explained to us that they KNEW we were stealing jeans and they had a witness to prove it. Mind you, I have never stolen anything from a store before. In the end, they (Sears) basically broke a million laws (seriously) and more or less strip-searched us in front of the whole store before letting us leave. And no, they never called our parents. My Dad did, however, drive over there to "have a talk" with them after we returned home!

Amie saw a drug deal in Lincoln Park(a more high-end one then if it were just teenagers or something) when we were in Elementary School. The man that she saw and had described to the police, started stalking her/us after he came across us playing in the park - shortly after the whole ordeal. He ended up chasing us back to Amie’s house. (After my valient self-sacrificing move to save her!) Her dad called the cops and we (again) had to give a description of the guy.

After that drug dealer chased us, there were several times we had to call the cops to have them patrol the area because we’d see him around. On one occasion Amie and I were home alone and we noticed that he was in the alley behind her house. Pacing… and watching. We were home alone and completely scared, so we called Amie’s grandma. Why call 911? I mean, it makes total sense to call your Grandma who lives across town. She instructed us to hide. (Hey, we obviously were not brain surgeons – what the heck was her grandma going to do?) We hid behind the couch. Her grandma called the police who came and searched in and around the house - only to find that one of the basement windows had been smashed in and there was a knife by it. I think it was just a small kitchen knife or something…but still, it was freaky. Again, we were questioned endlessly by the officers trying to get info on the guy.

I witnessed a car radio getting stolen from Chuck Jackson’s car one night. I called the police and they came to my parent’s house and I had to give descriptions of the boys who did it. Later that week, at school, I found out who did it. I never told anyone who it was. I wouldn't tell the police because I knew they were in a gang - not the police, the boys who stole the radio. Ha! My Dad was furious with me. Funny thing, I ran in to one of the guys at Kwik Trip this afternoon.

(NAMES HAVE BEEN CHANGED TO PROTECT THE INNOCENT...OR GUILTY, IN THIS CASE!) After leaving Teens one night, Myrtle, Harry and I dropped Rick Jones off and were on our way home. Myrtle (who was maybe 14 at the time) convinced Harry to let her drive…in the rain. Yeah, we crashed in a ditch. Myrtle and I tried to walk to the Jones' to get Rick's older brother Joey to tow us out. We got lost. Knocked on some lady’s door trying to get directions to Lance Jr. High. She was crazy. She peeped the 5-0 because we looked “suspicious”, the cop’s pull up, lights blazin' and threw us in the back seat and drove us to the scene where there were several other squads waiting. They then tossed Harry in back with us because they thought that he was drunk driving…so, they tore his car apart. That was a fun one. Don’t try lying to your parents when you get home...the grapevine travels fast. "Judy" and my mom knew the whole thing before Myrtle or I walked in the door. But maybe they didn’t know Myrtle was driving…so please keep that on the DL.

That's all that you get for now, folks. Stay tuned for part 2....whenever I decide to search the archives to update and post it.