This Week's Bizarre Police Tale

Police in Hanahan, South Carolina were called to an apartment complex Monday night in response to a 911 complaint of a woman attempting to remove a male victim's genitals.

With her teeth.

"It's one of the worst body cam videos  I've seen in my career," said HPD Chief  Dennis Turner. "It honestly reminded me of something you would see from off a horror movie."

Officers arrived at the apartment to find two men, one suffering wounds to his manhood, and a woman, who was naked and spattered with blood. The woman began crawling aggressively on all fours towards the police officers, who then subdued her with a Taser.

The two men and the woman had been engaged in sexual intercourse when the attack occurred.

The woman was later administered Narcan, as it was found she was under the influence of heroin and methamphetamine, and then transported to a local hospital.

As of this date, no charges have been filed.

It is unknown if the male victim sought treatment....or will have need to consult with a plastic surgeon.

Check back every Friday for a new bizarre police tale.

Who's Stopping You? You Are.

Fear. Phobia. Apprehension.

Regret.

We fear what we don't know. Fear can keep us from goals, dreams and desires, and from confronting problems and issues. Phobias allow unreasonable elevation of our fears Our apprehensions make us take pause and hesitate to move forward.

Then the regret sets in. We'll 'what if?' the rest of our lives because we were afraid, once upon a time, to confront our fear. Then comes self-doubt and, maybe, self-loathing. Don't do that to yourself. Have some respect for you.

So how do we overcome our fears?

We take that first step toward them. That's it. Simple as that. Make that first move forward.

We can educate ourselves, strive to determine what is causing us that fear. Is it fear of failure? You failed. So what. You won't be the first person in the history of mankind to fail at something. The key is what you do next. Prepare for that step the best way you can. Study that fear, have a reasonable idea of what it'll require of you to overcome it and go right back at it.

Don't allow fear to defeat you. You get back up, dust yourself off, figure out what went wrong and take that step again only, this time, you'll have a better understanding of what you're stepping into.

You want that dream, that goal or desire? Don't let fear stop you.

Run that sucker down.

Get Off The Treadmill

No, not the one that's keeping you healthy.

The one that's keeping you stationary in life.

Let's face facts for a moment: most of us get out of bed, go through a morning routine, work, come home to another routine for a few hours and then go to bed. That cycle repeats every twenty-four hours for five days, with maybe a few variables.

No wonder we look forward to weekends so much, but even those can have their very own cycles too, right?

It gets to be monotonous, a drag, smothering your life aside from those few variables. You're running in place on life's treadmill when you want to move forward and higher. You can't see an endpoint, the time in your life when you can stop running and start enjoying.

Trust me, that day is coming.

In the meantime, though, how do you step off that platform of everyday mundaneness? Of the mindless 'rinse-and-repeat' cycle? CAN you throw the change-up instead of another fastball?

I'm not advocating a total life change; that's a pretty big gamble, especially if you have loved ones depending on you at home. You can't act on chance and risk losing something you can't afford to lose.

Break up that cycle to whatever extent is acceptable. Take your wife or husband out to dinner unexpectedly in the middle of the week. Have a family night at the movies. Go through the attic and donate unused or unneeded items to those less fortunate. Volunteer a few hours at a local food bank.

Have something in mind you've always wanted to try, but haven't? Do it. Read a book...or write one. Build something. It doesn't have to be intricate or expensive. Dig a hole, line it with bricks and stack a few rows of pavers around it. Now you have a fire pit. Refinish the old table sitting in the basement that Grandma gave you and make it functional again.

Do something a little different every week. Break the monotony by stepping into unfamiliar territory outside your comfort zone. Change something...anything...

...and stop complaining about the treadmill.

Flaunting Stupidity

There's 'lack of intelligence and common sense'.....and then there's just plain stupid.

Take North Charleston, South Carolina's Deandre Stevens, for instance.

The 20-year-old Stevens was arrested in connection to an armed robbery in the parking lot of a Walmart back on January 4 of 2016. He and two accomplices arranged to sell fake marijuana to 16-year-old Zarmell Polite in the parking lot, using the ruse to lure the juvenile and then rob him.

Surveillance video from the mega-store's security cameras show Stevens and his henchmen arriving in a car; a short time later, Polite shows up. Stevens and one of his sidekicks exit the car as Polite climbs in the back seat with the third man to do the deal.

Then it all goes south.

Polite is shown staggering out of the car, turning and firing a weapon into the vehicle's rear seat, killing would-be armed robber Larry Grayer, who was eighteen. Police investigators ruled Polite's actions as self-defense because Grayer had pulled a gun on Polite inside the car. 

Stevens and the remaining accomplice, 18-year-old Aliyah Young, were charged with armed robbery; They both also faced accessory-to-murder because Grayer died during their ill-fated crime. Stevens' bond was set at $200,000.

He posted bond. Then he took stupidity to a personal high-water mark.

Broadcasting on a Facebook livestream, Stevens used twenty minutes to threaten the brother of Zarmell Polite, referring to him as a snitch and pointing a handgun at the webcam. He also allegedly used drugs during the broadcast.

 Stevens also offered Xanax for sale on social media.

Using the social media video and screen captures from Stevens' less-than-stellar decision, prosecutors pressed Stevens' attorney, Bradford Andrews, for a 'guilty' plea to the armed robbery charge in exchange for a less-than-maximum prison term; Andrews argued in front of a judge for a ten-year sentence, citing his client's youth and lack of criminal history.

Armed robbery and accessory to murder. Go big or go home.

Deandre Stevens accepted the plea deal, supported by his family. He was sentenced to fifteen years in prison.

Deandre Stevens

Professional Courtesy:. Politicians

In bygone days, a cop didn't issue a summons for every violation or traffic stop. We exercised an option called 'professional courtesy.'

In this option, we used empathy and a little common sense, traits that are becoming increasingly difficult  to find in the law enforcement community these days.

I have occasion to come in contact with the public quite often in the capacity of 'writer'; when I discover a veteran for potential interview, for example, I'll often give them a little of my background in the process, hoping they'll be a little more at ease talking with me.

And, quite often, I'll hear a story of a bad experience they once had with law enforcement.

The words most often heard are 'rude', 'unbending', uncaring' and 'arrogant'. The biggest word in that group, at least to me, is 'arrogant'. Think about it, a time when someone treated you as if they were better than you or spoke down to you.

Not a very good feeling, was it?

Young coppers today need to realize that the citizens pay their salaries, and that they have problems just like the policemen do...most times, worse problems. A citation or traffic ticket should be a last resort, depending on the severity of a violation.

Rent, car payment. medical bills, school clothes, upcoming holidays, utilities, insurance...none of that comes cheaply unless you're still living in Mom and Dad's basement.

Courtesy goes a long way in police/community relationships.That is a key. Give someone a break, do something good for someone and I guarantee they'll remember it.

Sometimes, that good will comes back at an odd angle.

Early on in my career, I was working a day shift in which it was snowing like crazy; it was slick and difficult to see. As I'm going through a business area on the two-lane road, I noticed a car that was having trouble entering the roadway from an unplowed business lot, its wheels spinning madly. As I'm almost passing by, the rear wheels caught and the car shot out in front of me, nearly causing a collision with my cruiser.

I stopped the car, seeing the driver's window come down as I approach on foot. I recognized the man immediately; he was the mayor of a neighboring municipality. The man was very apologetic, saying he would totally understand  if I needed to cite him. I told the mayor that a citation wouldn't be necessary, asking only that he drive more carefully. The mayor thanked me and drove off.

A week later, our city's mayor walked into the police department, a councilman in tow. Upon seeing me, in his best politician voice, he tells me, 'Officer Clark, I want you to know that I just got a call from Mayor (X); he told me you stopped him last week and extended some professional courtesy, which impressed him greatly. He spoke so highly of you that I'm considering giving you a commendation...'.

My blood pressure shot through the ceiling. More on that in a minute.

I responded, "Well, Mayor, I look at it this way: a pat on the back sometimes is just a high kick in the butt."

That shocked him; his face immediately turned beet-red. The Mayor did an about-face and marched out of the department, councilman following right behind him. That was the last time the Mayor ever spoke to me, as I'd leave to take a job at Mansfield PD a few months later.

Why had I responded in such manner?

A couple of months earlier, while working nights, another officer and myself apprehended half of a four-man, multistate burglary ring that specialized in hitting farm implement stores. These mopes, out of Columbus, had shot out the security lights in the rear of the store, cut a hole in the property's perimeter fence and broken into an unalarmed building used to store excess stock. They'd piled up crates of unassembled bicycles, stacks of tires, cases of oil and leather gloves, anything of value that they could fence for cash. The stolen property amounted to thousands and thousands of dollars.

A dayshift officer, assigned to do follow-up on felony offenses, later told us that he'd called Columbus PD's detective bureau to get a little more information on these criminals we'd caught. The CPD detective told him that they'd been after these guys for over a year, and that one of the men we'd arrested had made a comment that he'd kill the next police officer that tried to arrest him. CPD investigators said this ring was tied to burglaries/thefts in Indiana, Ohio and Kentucky.

What did we hear from the Chief or the Mayor after such a high-profile arrest?

Nothing. Nada. Not a peep. We'd just been doing our jobs.

Yet this Mayor, a few months later, wants to commend me for giving a politician a break on a traffic violation.

The neighboring Mayor had been no threat, hadn't commented that he'd kill the next officer he came in contact with, like career criminal and convicted felon James Baer had.

A commendation for being courteous....which, too, was part of the job. While it was a kind gesture for Mayor X to express his gratitude, I'd probably been wrong to respond the way I had, but our Mayor's comments chafed me. My 'commendation' came when both men were convicted and sent to prison.

The feeling I got from knowing my partner and I had sent these mopes to prison was worth much more to me than a suitable-for-framing piece of paper with a nicely-worded 'attaboy'.

Remembering A Past Manhunt

Friday, April 13th, 1984.

That's the day my friend and Brother of the Badge, Richland County Sheriff's Deputy Ed Ernsberger, was shot by an escaped convict.

I was working at Ontario PD at the time, just a few months before I would leave to become a member of the Mansfield Police Department. I can't tell you what I was doing when I'd heard Ed had been shot, but I can tell you about what I did the next day.

I was part of a manhunt, along with two of my co-workers at Ontario PD, Ted Brinley and Mike Burchett.

Ed was the resident deputy up in Shiloh, as I recall, partnered with K9 Bear...a huge Rottweiler. Ed responded to a 'suspicious person' complaint, called in by a citizen due to an escaped prisoner from the Ohio State Reformatory earlier that week. Ed found the mope, not being sure if it was the escapee or not....turns out it was.

As Deputy Ernsberger patted the man, Mark Manley, down, the convict turned and began fighting with Ed. Manley gained control of the deputy's .357 magnum and shot him in the sternum, Ernsberger's bulletproof vest saving him from certain death. As Manley lined the downed officer up for a head shot, Bear exited the cruiser and charged Manley, causing his shot to miss.

Bear took three rounds in all; Ed took a second shot just above the arm hole in the side of his vest, which then glanced off his shoulder blade.

Knowing Manley had fired all six rounds from Ed's revolver, the wounded deputy attempted to re-enter his cruiser to get the shotgun from its rack. Manley jumped on the deputy inside the cruiser and began pistol-whipping him, just as the shotgun rack lock released. The convict wrestled the shotgun away from Ed, who then had the presence of mind to put his cruiser in gear and roar away from the scene.

Mark Manley, who had been incarcerated for felonious assault on a police officer, escaped the area with Ed's 12 gauge.

Ed survived his wounds; miraculously, so did Bear the Rottweiler; she carried those three slugs until she died several years later.

As you'd imagine, a massive manhunt ensued, with officers from every agency in Richland county, and some from neighboring counties as well as state agencies, taking part. Helicopters and aircraft, both police and civilian, took part in the hunt for Manley.

Back to Brinley, Burchett and I.

We'd been searching a woodline somewhere in the boonies for most of the day; the passage of time has robbed me of exactly where we were. As the three of us were walking through a field toward  where we'd parked the cruisers, we noticed a truck from WBNS-TV out of Columbus parked nearby, a man with a camera on his shoulder filming the area. At one point I made some kind of remark to Ted, who was walking beside me, and he playfully smacked me in the back of the head as we all three laughed.

Of course, that clip made the six-o'clock news.

Manley was found a week and a half later by a teenager walking in the woods, the would-be cop killer dead of a self-inflicted shotgun blast, Ed's shotgun laying beside him.

A fitting end.

My friend Ed is still around, and we keep in touch through social media; we really need to get coffee one day and catch up face-to-face.

Mikey B, as I've called him for decades, is retired and living on a farm in rural Ashland county,a survivor of cancer that nearly took him from us. He's also an accomplished musician, playing stand-up bass fiddle in a bluegrass band.

Ted Brinley, one of the funniest guys I've ever known, died the following year from injuries sustained in a motorcycle accident; I was honored to have been one of his pallbearers. I woke this morning thinking about Ted and that afternoon walking through the field with my friends

This past week's manhunt for fugitive Shawn Christy, which dominated the news for several days, ended on a good note, as he was apprehended without incident near Camp Mowana off US 42. Christy had been wanted for threatening to kill the President and a prosecutor in Pennsylvania. He'll now face justice for his threats.

I'm quite sure the Christy manhunt sparked the dream of that past manhunt so many decades ago, and the memories of Ed, Bear, Mikey B and Ted.

...and that dang video clip playing on the evening news.

You can read Ed's story here: https://www.ohiopolicek9memorial.com/k9-bear-richland-county.html

Ed Ernsberger and Bear

A Fun Day And Reliving The Past

This past Sunday I had the opportunity to take my grandson Butch for a visit to the police department where I spent most of my law enforcement career: Mansfield PD.

Butch, being an inquisitive five-year-old, had asked me once about being a policeman: I'd given him a thumbnail sketch of the job, then drove by 30 North Diamond and pointed out the city building, where Papaw used to work. I knew what his next comment would be.

"Can we stop, Papaw?"

That was last fall. I wanted his first encounter with the world in which I once lived, where a part of me still remains, to be special, one he'll remember long after I'm gone. I told him we'd stop another time.

That time was last Sunday.

Thanks to my friend and brother in blue. Korey Kaufman, it was a very special visit. For those that don't know him, Korey is a combat-hardened Marine veteran with a heart of gold. He's also one of several K9 handlers at Mansfield PD and currently works day watch. I figured a Sunday morning would be a good time to schedule Butch's visit as , usually, calls-for-service run a little slower because most mopes are still in bed after a hard Saturday night doing whatever it is they do.

Butchie got to meet Korey's partner, Denise, a lively Belgian malinois who he said loves kids. I thoroughly enjoyed watching my wide-eyed grandson slowly shed his shyness and interact with Korey as he was shown how all the bells and whistles work inside a police car.

Yep, even the siren.

I documented the visit by taking photos and video of the occasion, Butch smiling the entire time. Then we ventured up to the radio room, or dispatch center, or whatever they call it now, and my long-time friend LaWanda met my little man. Butch ended his visit there by hugging her; she's a real sweetheart and LaWanda is one of the best dispatchers I ever worked with. Ever.

As we drove home, Butch told me about his favorite part as he sat strapped into his child  seat; I don't think he stopped talking about Denise and seeing her 'attack' the bite-sleeved arm of Officer Rich Clapp until we pulled into the garage at home.

I didn't hear everything he said, though; my head was somewhere else.

My mind had wandered back about twenty-five years or so, to a time when my sons Travis and Tyler were little guys. I'd occasionally take them with me if I had to run to the PD for something. They, too, had been wide-eyed back then, and it wasn't at all uncommon for some of the guys I worked with to rough-house with them or snatch them up in a bear-hug, the boys laughing as my brothers made them feel at ease in our rough domain. It seemed everyone on the department had kids back then, mostly all of us considering each other family to one degree or another, and our kids were part of that family.

I surely hope that atmosphere still exists, because much in my former world has changed.