A Mistake in Brooklyn
In mid-2000, we visited some friends in Brooklyn. I had some wine and quickly got drunk. A few hours into the evening, we heard a car honking. Our friend went out and was met by a neighbor angry about her car blocking the driveway. Our friend quickly ran back inside, took her car keys and her dog—meaning to take it for a short walk after she moved the car—then ran back outside and put the dog in the back seat. But even after parking his car, the neighbor continued to yell. Apparently, she answered. He lost it and tried to punch her in the face. She moved her head forward and the neighbor hit her dog instead. Distressed and shocked, she went back inside and told us what happened.
Drunk and over-confident, I went outside to face the neighbor, but the closer I got, the more I realized how big he was, and by the time we faced each other and he was holding my shirt collar and me pretty much on tip toes reaching to grab his, I knew there was no turning back, and I kind of knew I was in trouble.
When the man realized Honey called the police he simply let go of my shirt and walked away.
Twenty minutes later, two police officers came, a black man and a white woman. They took a statement from our friend and walked outside to look around. Did anyone know the man? Had anyone seen him before? Suddenly one of our friends shouted, “There he is, he’s getting into his car,” pointing at a person getting into a car at the end of the darkened block. The car pulled out and started driving toward us and the police officer moved to the middle of the road, took out his flashlight, and waved it for the car to stop. The car continued. Now, the officer was waving his flashlight with one arm while the other was pulling his gun out. Suddenly, the driver realized what was going on and slammed on the break. When the officer aimed his flashlight at the car we saw an old couple with their hands touching the roof of their car, shaking.
“Sorry,” my friend told the police officer. “It was dark.”
“Well,” he said, in a city still reeling from the Amadou Diallo shooting, “Now you see how mistakes are made.”
14 comments:
Love the doggie picture!
That old couple probably needed to change their depends after that! I know I would have :)
OMG! That would have been awful. For everyone concerned.
A wonderful story and extremely well told. Your description of approaching the angry guy was not only vividly graphic and amusing but kind of illustrated the principle of perspective at the same time. Er, you're one of these people who things kind of happen to, aren't you?
I can't believe he was going to punch a woman.
I admire your (drunken) courage.
I have grown soft on the police however it seems the Diallo situation is very different from what you witnessed.
With Diallo, it was four police and one suspect. With your story, there was a car that drove in the direction of a police officer--the LAPD would have taken no chances, which I understand to a degree.
My point is that the officer's comparison--maybe he was trying to help people understand how easy it is to shoot and kill people--is inappropriate.
Of course, I write this from a climate controlled office with no window and thus no concept of the outside world.
Don't you love the use of the passive voice--mistakes were made? No agency, no responsibility--like random selection instead of idiocy and/or intention. Gotta love the city.
Phew!! That was a close call for the old couple. They almost made the news.
That big guy got away in the end?
Say we just happen to both become famous bloggers. Say we end up at the same blogging event. Say someone exclaims, "Hey it's that fellow from People In the Sun!" If that ever happens, I'm going to have to pretend I don't know you -- you get into way too much trouble. Good story though. Poor elderly folk.
Great story! Was the dog ok?
Mel, Buddy was born and raised in Brooklyn, so I thought a picture of him would make sense. Any excuse for a picture of Buddy in a laundry basket will do. As for the old couple, I wouldn't be surprised if they started walking from that day.
Shelli, yea... That day could have been the worst day of many people's lives.
Secret, why, thank you. Now, I don't know if things happen to me. Maybe they do. Never thought about that. This whole thing was supposed to be an internet version of the book, The Diary of a Nobody, in an "Everyone has a story" kind of way. But maybe things do happen to me...
durante, I think you're right there, both in your point and in your counterpoint. Honestly, I don't know what to do with the story either. It would have been easy if the officer was white and the neighbor was black, but it was the other way around, which complicates everything. Damn non-fiction! I'm almost certain that when the officer made the comment he referred to Diallo (after all, everyone in Brooklyn was talking about it), so if anything can come out of the story is that maybe while the race issue was the talk of the town, Brooklyn officers were still united. Maybe.
Enemy, you're right there too. As I said, I don't know exactly what to make of the story other than to think this comment was just a result of the frustration of police officers about the anger over the Diallo killing. Maybe he wasn't justifying shooting someone forty times, just saying he didn't have an easy job.
SJ, yep, as far as I know. I find it hard to believe to police would follow up on something like that. They way the New York/Brooklyn police was working, they would still be looking for him if he had been smoking a joint at the time.
Jennifer, you're expected to protect me!
Leo, the dog was okay. She was some kind of Pit Bull mix (a distant cousin) and in a fair fight could have taken out the guy. Pit Bulls (and their cousins) have a high threshold for pain.
love your pitty
The doggy pic!!!! I love it!
Being a cop is hard. Everyone loves to hate the fuzz, but it's a hard job, that's for sure.
Girl, I just go up to the bedroom and he's there asleep inside the laundry basket. He is a character.
Sebastien, I think so too. I've also changed my mind about crime in general since I started working in the booking station. Still not sure about it all. I'm getting there. Myabe I'll understand it once I write about it.
You gotta cool dog there...
Hey, Suray, thanks. He used to be the terror of Brooklyn but he's retired now.
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