An LA Cop. John Bowermaster
was always telling Ed he wanted a job like those dumb-ass weathermen, where he could be wrong as often as they were and get paid for it!
Paul married his high school sweetheart, Barbara. She was becoming disenchanted with Paul’s job on the police department.
She didn’t like him working from midnight until eight-thirty in the morning and going to court all the time.
They didn’t have all their weekends or holidays off together. She didn’t like him sleeping during the day and being gone all night. Like several occupations, police officers have a high rate of divorces. Their work hours, overtime, fluctuating days off and the things they see and deal with during their jobs take a toll on their relationships.
Officers become callus to situations. It alters how they think, their sense of humor, and the way they see the world. Some spouses married to their mates prior to joining the department find they can’t adjust to the changes the job causes, causing the marriage to end in divorce.
When Paul wasn’t in court or working a security job, on his days off, he liked to spend time snow or water-skiing with Barbara and his partners. One morning after testifying on a case in court, Paul stopped at a movie location. Where he noticed a movie crew filming on a street in Los Angeles.
Still in his uniform from court, he pulled to the curb, walked over, and asked to speak to someone in charge of the production. During a break between scenes they introduced Paul to the director.
The director and Paul struck up a conversation and friendship. Paul made a deal with the director to provide the film company off-duty police officers for security on movie sets filmed in the city of Los Angeles.
Paul purchased an old Harley-Davidson police motorcycle from an auction. He restored it to its original condition including red lights and siren. Paul used it on movie jobs that required motor cops for traffic control.
The studios paid extra money when they needed a motor officer at a location. Paul told Ed that Barbara was always complaining. She wanted him to quit the department and find another job or return to framing for a living.
Paul liked his job with Los Angeles, returning to a job walking on high structures, risking a fall and breaking his back or worse, was no longer in his game plan. Paul said Barbara gets pissed off when he works the security movie jobs.
“I’m making good money on those jobs. Trying to give her things I couldn’t afford when I was working construction. The studio pays more money when they need a motorcycle cop for traffic control on those jobs!”
Paul worried because he never received a draft notice calling him to active service. Ed told him, “The government would take one look at your hillbilly ass and tell you to get your ass back in the woods where you belong!”
Mike Brown was the third partner assigned to 7-X-96 with Ed and Paul. At twenty-four, he was the youngest and smallest of the three. A little shorter, topping out at five foot ten inches, tipping the scales at one hundred fifty pounds soaking wet.
Mike was blond and supported a tan. Depending what his court schedule was, he spent his time at the Venice beach. Mike found the boardwalk was a good place to meet women. His long-range plan was to save the planet and chase women!
Ed called Mike a tree hugger! In 1968, Mike was in college at USC when he received his draft notice. He got a deferment from the draft for college.
In 1971, Mike joined the police department before the ink was dry on his college degree. After four years of booze and babes, he graduated from college. He lived with his college girlfriend Kathy.
Ed shared the same opinions about Kathy as Paul. Their match wasn’t made in heaven. Kathy referred to Mike’s friends as his pig buddies. She was always protesting or demonstrating against the Vietnam War.
Paul thought, If Kathy had an accident and went over a cliff to a fiery death while driving Mike’s truck, he would have mixed emotions about her death. He would be glad about Kathy, but he would miss Mike’s truck! They used his truck to tow Paul’s boat.
Mike broke up with Kathy when she got arrested at a protest rally for chaining herself to a fence. Mike told his partners “Those protests rallies have made Kathy crazier than a shit house rat!”
Ed harassed Mike, telling him now that he graduated from college, he’d be receiving his draft notice any day now! Mike laughed, telling him choosing between Vietnam or booze and babes was an easy decision. “College, booze, and babes here I come!”
Ed reminded Mike, “It’s not too late. They can still come get your skinny ass!” Richard was a friend of Ed’s from high school. He wasn’t drafted when Ed received his draft notice.
Richard told Ed, “Some of us need to stay home and take care of the girls while you guys go play army.”
In 1971, after Ed returned from Vietnam and joined the LAPD, Richard received his draft notice. He went to Vietnam in 1972 and became a door gunner, operating the mounted machine-gun on the side of a chopper transporting soldiers in and out of landing zones during eagle flights. That’s what the army calls nine UH-1-B Huey helicopters transporting soldiers in and out of landing zones.
The door gunners provide the perimeter of the LZ with cover fire for soldiers getting in or out of their choppers in the LZ. Six months in country, Richard was killed sitting at his machine gun. His eagle flight landed in a hot LZ near the Cambodian border. As they landed, his unit started receiving automatic weapons fire from the jungle at the edge of the rice paddy.
At 12:30 a.m., 7-X-96 left the station’s parking lot, heading to the jungle to handle a shots-fired call at 6055 August St. #407. Ed and Mike turned onto August Street, checking for any signs of an ambush.
Several officers were shot at, while responding to phony calls in Los Angeles over the past few months. The Black Panthers made several threats about placing car bombs under police vehicles.
They wanted to shoot police officers in an ambush. It reached the point, after handling radio calls, officers would check underneath their vehicles for explosive devices before getting in them.
The officers parked one building away from 6055 and walked into the apartment complex. There were several tenants gathered outside the apartment. The officers climbed the stairs to 407. A crowd was gathered in front of the apartment.
“What’s going on, folks?”
A spectator replied, “We heard yelling coming out of 407 all night. We heard a gunshot ten minutes ago—now it’s quiet inside. Nobody answers.”
Ed knocked hard on the door, announcing, “Police officers, open the door!”
The tenant, a black male in his forties, opened the door. “Officers, I need help. I shot my old lady—it was an accident. She’s in the bedroom, she needs an ambulance.” Ed told Mike to watch the suspect while he checked the bedroom.
Ed entered the bedroom; what he saw surprised him. Not the sight of the shooting victim; he’d seen more than his share of dead bodies and people shot every place imaginable. What surprised him was the woman was alive.
There was a naked three-hundred-pound white female in her late thirties on a bed shoved into the corner of the bedroom. The victim was sitting upright leaning against both corner walls. Her skull was missing from above her eyebrows, blown off with the blast from his shotgun.
The shotgun was lying on the foot of the bed. The wadding from the shotgun shell was sticking in the front of her brain. Ed noticed blood dripping on the woman’s shoulders from above; he looked up at the ceiling.
The blast from the shotgun had torn the woman’s skull cap off her head. Her skull was stuck upside down to the ceiling above the victim. Her hair was hanging from the ceiling like a bloody wig.
The woman’s breathing was erratic and labored. Ed checked for a pulse, confirming her breathing wasn’t some kind of involuntary muscle spasm. He returned to the living room, telling Mike to handcuff the suspect.
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