# Sometimes I lie awake at night, thinking about how I came to be...



## RFW (Feb 9, 2022)

These are the thoughts that run through my mind at night while I'm in bed but can't sleep. I tend to think about past events in my life, things I could have done differently, and how they've led me to be who I am now. Some thoughts are random and insignificant. I will try to keep it chronological but it may jump further in time and back. Some details are intentionally kept vague for privacy.

I was born in a small town in Pennsylvania. Father, an immigrant from Germany before WWII. Mother, a Canadian of English descent.

Dad was always patriotic and loved the American way of life. Mom had a Cockney accent which she used less and less as time went on.

Both of them hid their accents in public, especially dad. He did his best to sound "American". I was never taught German and dad only spoke it with grandfather as it was the only language he spoke. He never went back to Germany. I think he wanted nothing to do with it.

I was never close to grandfather. He would watch over me while I played but showed no emotion. I never really knew what he thought of me but he was there to keep me safe. He died of heart failure when I was 6. I did not cry for him. I felt like I never knew what he was truly like. I felt sad for dad.

Grandmother died years before him, when I was still a baby. I don't have any memory of her. She helped raise me. Everyone told me she had always been bullied by her sisters and mother. I felt she had a sad and unfulfilling life.

I never knew much about mom's family either. I know hers and dad's didn't get along and throughout her life, she had very little communication with them. She never complained.

Growing up, dad showed tough love and would never hug me. He praised me when I did something good and punished me just the right amount when I needed to be taught a lesson. Looking back, it was probably for the best.
He taught me to never stand out, be the center of attention and be cocky. His past might have something to do with it. I feel it's affected my self esteem and confident to this day, albeit in a lesser degree.

We ran a successful grocery store and a farm. Some would say I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth but we never flaunted our wealth. Mom and dad would dressed as if we had little to spare. They would always try to give me the best of everything while teaching me the value of money. That did little as I always thought we could always make more.

I got bullied a lot in school during my teenage years. Being tall and skinny like a matchstick didn't help. I kept it from dad. He would always tell me to fight back and not back down. I just thought it would only get me into more trouble.
_I think "This won't be my life forever." "I just have to suck it up until we graduate and go our separate ways."_
I found a solution. Quid pro quo, if you will. Homework for no beatdown. Bullying stopped. They saw my worth. As we grew up together, they became nicer. They wised up. Graduation came. All friendly and smiling together. We parted ways.

Back from Vietnam. All that time pondering what I would do with my life once I got back home and still, I had no clue.
_I was so used to having a routine and a goal but now I'm lost. Dad says "Why don't you go be a pilot or something?" I don't have the courage to say I need some time to discover myself. I know he won't approve of it. I cave in but demand to study in Canada. He obliges._
I never got homesick in Vietnam. I couldn't wait to be away again. My way of rebellion.

I needed more time to think and I wasn't ready for this. I excelled at school but did poorly in college. I didn't tell dad I was flunking. He wouldn't have taken it well. He paid for everything so I didn't have to work and could focus solely on studying. I stopped going and spent the money he sent on travels. I went where I wanted to go. I did what I wanted to do. I felt totally free for the first time but it wasn't without a cost.

More to come...


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## RFW (Feb 9, 2022)

I tried the bed again and couldn't sleep. Something has been bothering me and I just don't know what it is. So here's more.
And to those who have read the first part, thank you for taking the time to read it. My life is unremarkable and it's about to get duller.

Being a closeted gay man let loose in the world, I started experimenting with sex, sleeping with a different guy every week. It was just pure luck I didn't contract anything. I was naive and careless. Thinking back, I could have been robbed or killed. It took me about a month to realize this was not a way to live but it sure was fun while it lasted. Money was also running low.

Christmas came and I promised to be home for it. Dad asked about college. I played coy. He suspected something was up. I finally came clean about college but kept my sexuality from him. He once caught me laying my head on a male friend's lap and he confronted me about it.
_"Are you a f**?" He asks. I look away and reply firmly "No." and walk away. I cannot lie straight to his face._
He did not like how I wasted all the money he sent with nothing to show for. He expressed disappointment. I kept quiet. It was hard to utter even a word. I felt guilty and ashamed for what I had dome but didn't know how to convey it in a way that would appear sincere to him.
_We don't hug and it would be weird to start now._
I left the table and went up to my room. The next day, I was woken up by mom telling me something's wrong with dad. He had a mild heart attack. It runs in the family but it wasn't a coincidence. I had a hand in this. Thankfully, it wasn't a serious one and he recovered.

It was a known fact that dad wasn't happy with me not having a steady job at 23. I still didn't know what to do with my life. He was buddy buddy with the police chief and they would gladly take me. Not to anger him any further, I reluctantly accepted. I went to a state academy and out in less than 6 weeks as a recruit working for a small town PD. After a few more weeks of field training, I was officially a police officer. The job provided me with a sense of structure which I evidently needed.

Dad started hounding me about marriage. I said I hadn't found anyone. An old friend/neighbor's kid started coming around a lot. We used to be very close and went to the same school.
_I still live with my parents. She lives in the next town over. She has no business here but she comes every weekend just to hang out with me. Our parents want us to date. She says she's always liked me but she's out of my league even if I were straight. She must have taken pity on me because I was not like the others at school. I tell her I'm sure my dad set this up and somehow convinced her parents to go along with it. I say I can break this arrangement because this is not right and she deserves the love that I cannot give her._
She was never judgmental so it was easy to break it to her. I felt I could tell her anything and it would be alright.


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## RFW (Feb 9, 2022)

Here's another edition of "Nobody cares but I do it anyway."

_The thought of disappointing dad again gnaws at me. "I will fight for this." I think. Her parents do want us to be together. She insists she wants to be with me. She knows I won't be able to love her the way she loves me and that's good enough for her._
Mom knew I was resisting. She didn't want another potential bout of heart attack from dad. I didn't either and felt trapped. Everyone seemed okay with going through the charade and I was the only one with the least to lose.
_"This won't be our live forever." I tell her. It is all my fault and in time I will find a way to get her out of this. She hugs me passionately._

The wedding came. He spared no expense. Everybody seemed happy, so did she. I was not but I faked it. No point in upsetting anyone for no reason.
_"Man up. It's just one day." I tell myself._
She looked so beautiful, pure and innocent. I felt tainted. I survived the day. Reality kicked in.
_2 years in the force and now we're married and have a small house. I go to work and come home. Rinse and repeat. She always keeps herself busy with chores and knows how to enjoy herself in her spare time. When I am home, I have her full attention and she has mine. I enjoy doing things with her. I never get the impression that she wants more in her life. I look at men but I can never betray her. I feel selfish for wanting more.
It's been a year we've been married. She starts talking about having kids, so does everyone. I don't trust myself enough to think I could be a good dad. She reaffirms me I'm more than capable. I was hoping my dad's stance would change, that I could divorce safely. I can't say this is a bad life, far from it. I live with my best friend. We enjoy each other's company. Something others would kill for. I can't anything to complain about when if I try._

We moved forward with the plan. She wanted 2 children so they could always have a friend. They were born a year apart. It was the best moment of our life and changed how I thought about raising children. By this time, we had moved to the west coast. I stuck with the familiars. A new small town with better environment for the kids, where nothing bad would likely happen on the job. I was never one to take risks, think outside the box and all that. Just same old police work, different places. Once in a while, there would be something that got my heart pumping. That just came with the job sometimes.
_Often, I come home and see my kids and my wife and think tomorrow could be my last day. I need to always cherish every moment together.
Morning comes, wife always makes breakfast and we have it together. I kiss her goodbye for the day and once I'm out the door, I leave all the fears and worries behind. I think to myself "It will be just like any other uneventful days."_
Wife tried to steer me into a different career path. I liked this job. I liked sticking to what works. It was a stable job that paid enough for all of us. Sometimes I pulled double shifts to be able to afford something special for them. She also did part time here and there, whenever the time allowed. She just didn't like doing nothing. She never asked for more money than needed and always tried to chip in. She knew I wanted to be more but achieving it is another story.

I would spend my days off with them. I never wanted alone time unlike some people. I never had a problem with additions and substance abuse. I never smoked. My dad and grandfather were heavy smokers. I think that's why I've never tried it. They drank too but not excessively. I think I would be highly susceptible to addictions so I've always stayed clear. No weed for me. I already had enough bad habits as they were.
I didn't like parties. I never fit in. I was not into sports. I would let my wife tell me what I should do in my free time. I liked listening to her talking about things she was into. Not something that interested me personally but hearing her explain it made it interesting. It interested me that she was interested in it.
Wife taught our two boys well. They were never untidy. They wouldn't want to anger her. It was time consuming for her but she made it look so easy. It made my work easy. The boys got along well but they were like two halves of the same coin, one was more artistic, another more technical. We encouraged them to pursue what they were interested in.


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## Alligatorob (Feb 9, 2022)

RFW, you are a good writer with a very interesting story to tell.  I hope you tell us more!


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## RFW (Feb 9, 2022)

Alligatorob said:


> RFW, you are a good writer with a very interesting story to tell.  I hope you tell us more!


Thank you, Alligatorob. I really do appreciate it, and all the likes given.
I'm just writing it for my own sanity at this point. It kept me awake last night and I was only able to finally fall asleep this morning.


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## dseag2 (Feb 9, 2022)

Thank you for sharing your innermost thoughts and your journey through life.  No need to have sleepless nights.  You are a great person.


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## Leann (Feb 9, 2022)

@RFW I hope you will continue with your life story. It's very interesting.


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## RFW (Feb 9, 2022)

I was never religious. My family were. Suffice to say, it was not a fun time for me whenever we went to church. I kept it to myself and dared not speak out. I wanted to fit it. 
_"Bring shame to family is one cardinal sin you just don't commit."_

He would tell me about how he was caught stealing once. He ran home and my grandfather helped hide him and dealt with the Konditor (baker). Grandfather would deny everything, then beat my dad senseless once the baker had left. I got the feeling he was once a cruel man. Right up to his death, I remember them arguing regularly. There were times when they didn't say a word to each other for weeks. I never got how people could just live together but not talk out of frustration. It's something I told myself I'd never do.
_I tell my wife "If I ever do something wrong, that you think is bad, confront me with it. I will never walk away and shut you down." I may be hot headed but I will never hurt you._

I'd like to think I have a guardian angel watching over me, keeping me safe. When I was little, I used to climb the tallest birch tree right outside of our house. I fell 15 feet down, head first, but one of my legs caught a branch, slowing down the descent. My head hit the ground. Not a scratch on me. I got up and ran back inside like nothing happened.

I took my dad's '57 Harley Davidson Sportster for a ride and went over a bump too fast and crashed. Scraped knee and knocked the wind right out of me. It scared me so much I swore I'd never do it again.
Years later, I was given a '57 Oldsmobile Super 88 from my uncle. Dad would try to teach me how to drive but he was too tense and agitated so my uncle took over. It wasn't hard at all. I realized I had no need for speed. No need for speeding tickets. That life was not for me.

I had a piece of toothpick flung at me and it got stuck between my eyeball and eyelid. I didn't know what it was until I took it out. No damage.

My dad supported the troops. I could have escaped to Canada like some people I knew did. I was scared of the danger, of being controlled again. I could have applied for a less risky position but the thought of doing more than a year pained me. I did not think it through.
At bootcamp, I met new friends. It was the people and the sense of comradery that made it bearable and we even got to have fun.
We joked around a lot, called each other's names. Everyone knew what everyone's mom did in secret. It was all fun and games.
_"You get offended, you lose the game."_
Off to Vietnam. 
Most of them were more mature than me. I was just a dork who never had to fend for myself. They toughened me up, taught me things I didn't know. Surprising you get used to things you never thought you could. Sometimes I stared at the sky, wondering what my parents would do if something were to happen to me.
I survived without so much as a sprained ankle. Back home, I was the center of attention again. I didn't go out for a week. I missed some of my friends dearly. I wrote them and they wrote back. Some time later, someone stopped and I stopped. I was terrible at keeping friends.


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## RFW (Feb 9, 2022)

dseag2 said:


> Thank you for sharing your innermost thoughts and your journey through life.  No need to have sleepless nights.  You are a great person.


You've already sent me a personal note but I feel I should thank you again. I'm grateful that some people find it interesting.


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## RFW (Feb 9, 2022)

Leann said:


> @RFW I hope you will continue with your life story. It's very interesting.


I will write more as it comes to mind. I never really took the time to think about it this much until now. Thank you for your interest.


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## Jules (Feb 9, 2022)

Thank you for sharing your memories with us, @RFW.  You’re a caring person.


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## MrPants (Feb 10, 2022)

I too enjoyed reading the synopsis of your life and where it's brought you to. It shows you're a decent person who cares about who you are and what you bring to others in your life. Very interesting and introspective. I would look forward to hearing more as well. 

Many of us think our lives are mundane and of little interest to others much of the time but sharing edited snapshots of our lives with people is of great value I think. It shows that although we are different in many ways, we are all much the same in others.


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## Alligatorob (Feb 10, 2022)

@RFW if you keep writing I'll keep reading.  

You are an interesting story teller and have an interesting story to tell.


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## RFW (Feb 10, 2022)

MrPants said:


> I too enjoyed reading the synopsis of your life and where it's brought you to. It shows you're a decent person who cares about who you are and what you bring to others in your life. Very interesting and introspective. I would look forward to hearing more as well.
> 
> Many of us think our lives are mundane and of little interest to others much of the time but sharing edited snapshots of our lives with people is of great value I think. It shows that although we are different in many ways, we are all much the same in others.


That is true. I've been reading some of the stories in this section and it's amusing that people can go through a similar situation and still have unique takes on it.
I'm writing a harder part of the story that I've been drafting for over a day now. It's a heavy subject and I keep changing the way I tell it, trying to be as unbiased as I can. I don't want it to sound like it's a call to action. I don't want it to invoke a response that make people fight among each other. So I will probably write about a more light hearted part of my life instead, for now.


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## RFW (Feb 10, 2022)

Alligatorob said:


> @RFW if you keep writing I'll keep reading.
> 
> You are an interesting story teller and have an interesting story to tell.


I must thank you again. Your praise is the first positive comment I get, aside from the likes. 
There was a point where I would end it because it already served its purpose. I sleep somewhat better now. You and the others encourage me to go deeper. I still choose my words carefully while trying to be as accurate as possible. That's why I stay off political sections of this site.


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## Pinky (Feb 10, 2022)

I wish I could open myself up as honestly as you have done @RFW 
Thank you for sharing yourself with us.


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## Devi (Feb 10, 2022)

In lieu of just a "Like", I'll say: thank you for sharing, @RFW.


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## RFW (Feb 10, 2022)

I will try. @Pinky
I don't think I will completely as to not muddy the waters. I will try to convey my intentions with appropriate words. I think I've been harsh here before and I do not like that.


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## RFW (Feb 10, 2022)

Devi said:


> In lieu of just a "Like", I'll say: thank you for sharing, @RFW.


Thank you. I appreciate it. A like is good enough for me. Your saying it makes me feel like I know you a little bit better.


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## 1955 (Feb 10, 2022)

Wow, great share! I’m always interested in real life stories because it helps me put my own into perspective.  Thanks for sharing.
I just happen to stream “Uncle Frank” the other night & thought it was a great story on family dynamics.


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## RFW (Feb 10, 2022)

1955 said:


> Wow, great share! I’m always interested in real life stories because it helps me put my own into perspective.  Thanks for sharing.
> I just happen to stream “Uncle Frank” the other night & thought it was a great story on family dynamics.


What's that? Sounds interesting.


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## 1955 (Feb 10, 2022)

RFW said:


> What's that? Sounds interesting.


*Uncle Frank - Amazon Prime*


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## RFW (Feb 10, 2022)

1955 said:


> *Uncle Frank - Amazon Prime*


I will check it out when I need to use Prime again. Thanks!


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## RFW (Feb 10, 2022)

My family had a parrot and an older German Shepherd. The parrot said "Halt deinen Mund" and "Verfickter Scheißdreck" often. I felt that it was always directed at me. It didn't talk like that to anybody else. I just said "Shut up, bird!" every time. This bird had an axe to grind and I wasn't going to take it lying down. I later found out what those two phrases mean. "Shut your mouth" and "F***ing sh**". Touché, bird. Touché.

The dog was the most well behaved and calmest dog I ever had. She would follow me everywhere I went. She wasn't trained but I think all the years had shown her how the world worked. No leashes required. One thing she kept doing that I still don't understand is she would lick my piss every time I relieved myself outside whenever I felt like it. Maybe it was her idea of cleaning up after me.
I don't remember how she and the parrot died. I wish I could remember their names.

My dad's friend gave us one of his dogs, a Pitbull, that had seriously bitten someone and the owner didn't want to see him get put down. He showed no signs of aggression. If dad allowed him to be around me, he must not have been that bad. He was playful and got along really well with other dogs. It was definitely the human who was to blame.

We never had more than two dogs at a time and when they died, we got more. Kind of a necessity when you have a farm. I think dad felt better when there were dogs around me. They protected me time and time again from foxes, coyotes and snakes. God, how much I hate snakes. I didn't know back then that not every hospital carried every kind of antivenom and it helped your chance of survival greatly if you knew what kind of snake you had been bitten by. I think it still rings true today (correct me in a message if I'm wrong). I saw it as a death sentence, a painful way to die. As I grew up, I learned that snakes don't just attack willy-nilly. They prefer to just take off when threatened and only fight back as a last resort. Regardless, the dogs killed them all the same. They never missed.

Now, this one was the odd one out of the bunch, Billy, a male Dalmatian, born to be free as a bird. He was more interested in everything else but people. Nice dog but he liked to run off way too many times. The first one that needed a leash. We got it because of The Hundred and One Dalmatians. I think his spirit matched the book. One time, I was just sitting outside, minding my own business, having a burger. He came up to me from behind, all stealthy like, then quickly snatched my burger right out of my hands and ran away. I've never been bushwhacked so badly in life. 
One day, he was just lying down, not being himself. Something to do with his stomach. We didn't know what. The next day, he was dead, at only two years old. My last memory of him was seeing him walk past the front door, appearing alive and well. Maybe that was his ghost I was seeing, finally set free.
I didn't cry but I was sad. Looking back now I would be lying if I said his life was memorable. I remember his death more vividly than his time with me. I'm shedding a few tears as I'm writing this.

This dynamic duo was very special to me. They arrived as puppies, a male Rottweiler and a female mix of something... Woody and Casey (and no, I didn't name them). Woody was hyperactive, so full of energy, as a young puppy should be. Casey was a lazy lady who would prefer just to sit around all day and it seemed to be all she wanted to do. If only Woody's excessive energy could be transferred to her. Woody was our favorite. He liked to run, a perfect companion for jogging. Casey was just content watching everybody else have fun. She was partial to a good belly rub though, which I liked to give her. Woody knew how to cheer us up, make us feel special. He would just run up and jump at me, begging for a big hug. We taught him a few commands. Only thing we couldn't teach him was how to be calm while eating. He would growl at us if we got near him with his food, acting like he was going to attack but he never did. Casey was a dog that you could leave in a room for a few hours and come back to find that everything had been left untouched.
 They made babies during one cold winter. We gave them away. There were too many.
One day, he came up to my dad like he was trying to tell him something was wrong with the stomach. Again. The pattern was suspect. Dad had a theory, that a certain neighbor poisoned him, someone we had disputes with in the past. There was a million things he could have eaten that would make him sick. But you'd think that a dog in this kind of environment would have known better.
I don't remember the details but the vet couldn't help him. Dad put him down. Casey died a couple weeks later of a broken heart. 6 years old. Gone too soon. I was old enough to comprehend death as a grown person should. I was away when he died. I was only a day late.
We buried our dogs on our farm. These two were the ones I would make headstones for, had I known it was a thing. Dad believed dogs are animals and should be treated as such. He also believed in the afterlife.

_I watch dad dig two graves and bury them. I say "I wish you would be reborn as my dog again." He says "No, not as a dog but a person."_

This was the first time I understood the meaning of having no closure. I didn't get to say goodbye.
We never got any more dogs after that. At this point in time, we didn't need them on the farm and I just graduated. Also, I think it hurt too much for both of us.


Sorry I had to end this on a somber note. I didn't plan to but it has gone on long enough for one sitting. I need to get some air.


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## palides2021 (Feb 10, 2022)

Thanks for sharing your life story with us, @RFW! You have a knack for writing! Keep on writing!


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## RFW (Feb 10, 2022)

palides2021 said:


> Thanks for sharing your life story with us, @RFW! You have a knack for writing! Keep on writing!


Thank you @palides2021. Now I fear I will just continue to write sob stories. I originally wanted to share thoughts that keep me up some nights. Happy thoughts don't do that. I try to strike a balance. There are some good and bad stories that I left out because they are either insignificant, pointless or don't offer any moral. Noteworthy but abridged stories of my life, I suppose.

Your input is highly appreciated!


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## dseag2 (Feb 10, 2022)

RFW said:


> My family had a parrot and an older German Shepherd. The parrot said "Halt deinen Mund" and "Verfickter Scheißdreck" often. I felt that it was always directed at me. It didn't talk like that to anybody else. I just said "Shut up, bird!" every time. This bird had an axe to grind and I wasn't going to take it lying down. I later found out what those two phrases mean. "Shut your mouth" and "F***ing sh**". Touché, bird. Touché.
> 
> The dog was the most well behaved and calmest dog I ever had. She would follow me everywhere I went. She wasn't trained but I think all the years had shown her how the world worked. No leashes required. One thing she kept doing that I still don't understand is she would lick my piss every time I relieved myself outside whenever I felt like it. Maybe it was her idea of cleaning up after me.
> I don't remember how she and the parrot died. I wish I could remember their names.
> ...


Your post is making me tear up as well.  It is truly traumatic losing a pet as a young person.  I had a Beagle, Happy, when I was 8 years old.  She was my sole companion because we had just moved from NC to FL and I had left all my friends behind.  I used to cry at night because I had moved to a new place and knew no one, but Happy was constantly by my side.

Happy developed Distemper at 6 months old and had to be euthanized.  Of course my parents told me she was sent to a "farm" somewhere.  My parents tried adopting a miniature poodle but he was very high strung and tore things up in the house.  My mother, being OCD, took him back to the breeder after a few days.  I was traumatized twice and actually never had another pet until I was out of college.  I had my cat, Cleo, for 16 years and she kept me company during much of my time being single.  I've only had cats since that time. When we had to euthanize her my partner stayed in the room with her.  I had to leave because I was bawling my eyes out.  It was like losing my best friend.

Now, the irony of this post, which is so cathartic to me, is that I listen to music while I post.  "Don't Look Back" by Boston just started playing.  I guess that is a sign that I need to move on.


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## RFW (Feb 10, 2022)

dseag2 said:


> Your post is making me tear up as well.  It is truly traumatic losing a pet as a young person.  I had a Beagle, Happy, when I was 8 years old.  She was my sole companion because we had just moved from NC to FL and I had left all my friends behind.  I used to cry at night because I had moved to a new place and new no one, but Happy was constantly by my side.
> 
> Happy developed Distemper at 6 months old and had to be euthanized.  Of course my parents told me she was sent to a "farm" somewhere.  My parents tried adopting a miniature poodle but he was very high strung and tore things up in the house.  My mother, being OCD, took him back to the breeder after a few days.  I was traumatized twice and actually never had another pet until I was out of college.  I had my cat, Cleo, for 16 years and she kept me company during much of my time being single.  I've only had cats since that time. When we had to euthanize her my partner stayed in the room with her.  I had to leave because I was bawling my eyes out.  It was like losing my best friend.
> 
> Now, the irony of this post, which is so cathartic to me, is that I listen to music while I post.  "Don't Look Back" by Boston just started playing.  I guess that is a sign that I need to move on.


I wholeheartedly empathize. I'm sure you already know that. Thank you for telling me your experience.
Your miniature poodle behaved the same way my Dalmatian did. Reminds me that he destroyed some stuff too.
My dad liked to remind me of "the nature of things" and how you can never have a bond with them as strong as human to human. I disagreed, of course. Animal euthanasia was never a touchy subject for him. I think Woody proved him wrong. He told me later that before Woody died, he looked back and forth at him and my mom as if to say "I know my time is running out. Thank you for everything."

Loved the song! The whole album, actually. Another thing I forgot. As I was writing all this about the past, I realized how much I had forgotten, especially my childhood which I always thought was unmemorable. Like I was on autopilot. I thought long and hard, trying to recall certain things I should have known by heart. I'm also not good with numbers so I didn't state the exact years some of these stories took place in. I hope it's not a sign that my brain is failing me.

If I ever write a complete version of this, I will add photos too. I don't have them here and they will have to be dug up from a crypt. I'm sure I will find things that will surprise me.


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## RFW (Feb 11, 2022)

For people who have taken your valuable time to read what I had to say, I need your input once again.

I mentioned that I had a story that I had put on the back burner. It involves my years working as a police officer. It will be purely from my point of view and experience alone. I won't reference current issues but it will inevitably be relevant to them. I will get into a bit more details this time.

At this point, I don't think I need to write it to feel better. I've written about my childhood, loss and love because I think we can all relate to that. This story is similar yet different. I came here for light hearted conversations but it is also nice to be able to open up and be a bit more serious sometimes. I could always skip ahead and omit this part of my life.

Also, just putting it out there, just in case, I share the stories with all of you but I have no intention of changing/challenging your minds and your beliefs. The majority of these are unknown to even the closest of my family members. I don't go into specifics so as to protect their privacy. Some things already mentioned, they wouldn't approve of. And no, I have not been called any names on there. I've been getting nothing but positivity and encouragement. I've been told I don't thank people enough so I say thank you all once again, truly and deeply appreciate all the likes and comments. Hopefully I don't sound like a youtuber!


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## Devi (Feb 11, 2022)

@RFW, I enjoy your writing and information, and think you should share what you want to share.


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## Jules (Feb 11, 2022)

Devi said:


> @RFW, I enjoy your writing and information, and think you should share what you want to share.


Agreed.


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## Pinky (Feb 11, 2022)

@RFW .. You've touched my heart with your writings. Please continue, if you are comfortable doing so.


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## RFW (Feb 11, 2022)

In early 70's, I went to a state police academy which, back then, was not as intensive and time consuming as today (Over a year up to two years). I was taught the basics and the academic side of the job.
Back in Vietnam, I was issued an M1911A1 which is a military designation of the Colt 1911 semi automatic pistol (that's why you see a lot of "M" in weapons used by the military. "A" indicates a configuration. Usually higher number improves from the one before but it is also sometimes up to your preferences whether it's an improvement for not.) and an M16 equipped with an M203 grenade launcher.
In the academy, we had to be trained using a six shot Smith & Wesson Model 10 revolver which would become my issued sidearm. It holds a round less than the 1911 and takes a hell lot longer to reload (no speedloaders were issued either.) I loved guns but that was quite a downgrade.

I was top of the class on the range and an average pupil, not that it mattered a whole lot. Everybody knew the real lesson starts in field training. I finished the academy in six weeks which was about the average. The first day of my career started. I was assigned a training officer whose job was to watch my every move in real world scenarios, give guidance and evaluate my performance. A gentleman, 20 years my senior with premature gray hair, whom I consider my first mentor. I felt he gave me a bit of a leeway for a fumbling idiot like me while stressing the important tasks that should always be done properly. Sometimes when I got the shakes when I couldn't contain my excitement or nervousness, not mainly due to a potential unknown danger, but a possibility that I might do something stupid and it wouldn't look good on my evaluation.
Having my gun drawn, he would gently put one of his hand on my hands to lower them, as if to say "I've got this. You just stay back."

_I think "Sooner or later, I will need to be the one behind the wheel and not the one riding shotgun."_

I learned to control the shakes. It was all in the mind, I realized. When you do something so much, you get used to it. After three months (longer than average) with him, he gave me a pass and full recommendation. I hugged him and shook his hand more times than I should.

All that had happened had boosted my confident considerably. I felt like whatever came my way, I'd be okay.
My town was boring, sometimes to a fault. Some days all I did was talk to people. I didn't enjoy talking to people. Sometimes it was nice to run into people I hadn't seen for a long time, for them to see what I had achieved. Sometimes it was discouraging to see people who hadn't worked as hard as I had and had more fortune and status. Sometimes it was just jealousy on my part.

I loved it every time I ran into my training officer. He had just become an instructor so I didn't get to see him much anymore. We'd talk over coffee after work when we could. I'd confine in him. He liked to hear about how and what I was doing. I told him I was gay and I was about to marry to my girlfriend.

_He tells me "Your time will come. However long it takes, it will. Always remember, be kind to everyone, even the ones who hate you for it and do the right thing"_

He came closer and gave me a big hug. I held onto him and pull away after one full minute. I didn't want to wet his shirt. I shook his hand and left.

We had our usual bouts of thievery, domestic violence and disturbance, fit for a small town. Of course, it helped that I knew most of the people and how they were. Helped with gauging their behavior.
I never fired a shot. I learned to be very quick on my feet. I had not gained much weight and still looked like a matchstick, in other words, not very intimidating. I could eat anything I wanted and not gain more than a pound. High metabolism, one of my mom's traits. I was told I should keep more distance from a suspect, that an average build could easily overpower me. I had to keep that in mind.


To be continued...


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## RFW (Feb 11, 2022)

I've already touched on the wedding so I won't say much more. There just wasn't anything of note. I was never big on ceremonies anyway.


The two years I and my girlfriend/wife were together. We knew we were going to move away from this town. My mom and dad liked to show up at our place unannounced. I hated that. I never had privacy growing up. My childhood room door was always open and there was no way to lock it. Dad went through my stuff sometimes. Wife wanted to get away from hers too. I think she was doing it more for me.

We didn't buy any new furniture. Wife had only a few pairs of shoes and handbags. All of our stuff could fit in the backseats and trunk and what was left was given or thrown away. 
My wife suggested a small town in the middle of nowhere over there in the west coast. She knew a friend who could help us scope out a house within our budget and contact a PD on my behalf.

Dad didn't like the idea at first, of course. When did he ever agree with me? We had all kinds of reasons and excuses at the ready.

_"We are tired of the cold" She is but I'm not. "There are better schools over there" We don't know that. "It will be better for children" Better how? I dunno. "I get better pay there" An outright lie. It is a little bit less. "It doesn't get cold over there. Saves a ton on heating" Now that's a good point. I should open with that._

Somehow that got through to him without much resistance. So we made plans. Dad wanted to give me a loan to pay the new house in full. It would have helped me greatly but I said I needed to do this on my own. We said our goodbyes and hit the road.

This would be the longest journey for me by car to date. I had taught my wife, what I'd like to call, my signature Third Eye Driving, as in being aware of your surroundings at all times, all eyes on the road, always checking your blind spots and trying to anticipate other drivers' actions.
It was nice to be able to have her take over anytime I needed some shut eye, stop at a motel when we saw a nice one, stop to get gas and order anything we wanted at a restaurant. I liked driving at night. Everything was so serene. I left windows open a crack. It was like a mini vacation for us. Wife loved music and had a box full of 8-track. I had barely listened to any so anything she put on was new. (Don't Fear) The Reaper had just come out. I made her play it so much, I'm sure she got really sick of it. She was a Beatles and The Rolling Stones fan. I could care less about them but said they were not bad.

We stopped at many places along the I-80. Drove around big cities we had only seen on TV. Country folks, we were. There was no hiding it. We would just take a little walk to get a feel of the city. I kept kissing her in the cheek in public. Not sure if anyone found it weird.

Naturally, there was no avoiding bad drivers. I cursed at them a lot, so did my wife, maybe even more than me. She never uttered anything more than an occasional s*it and godd*mn at home. They surely never failed to rile you up.

I had always been fascinated by The Donner Party and how one wrong turn could ruin your life. Although one could argue they made more than one of those wrong turns. Donner Memorial State Park was one stop I made sure not to miss.

It probably took us over a week because we were sightseeing so much but finally, we arrived in, what I like to call, B*ttf**k, USA, our new home.



To be continued...


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## RFW (Feb 12, 2022)

Our new house was outside the city limit. We wanted to have room for our children to play in and just a typical backyard wasn't gonna cut it. No nosey neighbors. We got settled in right away. What a great feeling to be free from family again. We didn't have to live like we lived out of a suitcase anymore. I did not know it could get this hot around here. It reminded of Vietnam but the air was different.

This town was considerably smaller than where I came from at the time. We lived just 10 minutes away from the city center but there was this vast openness where you can see for miles and miles. I loved it. The problem was we only had one car. My department let me take a police cruiser home so that fixed it but we would need a new car for the kids in a few years. Another thing to add to the list. At least we still had plenty of time, or so I thought.

We found that we had to watch our spending more than ever. We couldn't just be eating out whenever we felt like it anymore. My wife got a job as a secretary to help pay the bills. I started getting accustomed to the new workplace.

The townsfolk were friendly. They knew I was the new guy right away. We got through traffic here so they were all too familiar with the tourist type.

One thing I had to quickly get used to was you don't let words get to you. They have the ability to pull you down and crush your soul but you also have the ability to ignore them. Some people mean what they say, some don't. Some do it out of anger, some do it while being influenced by a substance. Some do it to win an argument, some just want to get a reaction out of you. I liked to see the good in people.
I got called a Nazi all the time back in my hometown. One guy screamed at my face, telling me I am a Gestapo's son and he will have my entire family shot. He was obviously intoxicated. Surely, he knew my dad or he wouldn't have said it. We arrested him and processed him at the station, leaving him in a jail cell to sober up. I didn't think much of it until the next morning. The same guy approached me and said

_"Look, man. I'm sorry I was being such a f*cking dimwit last night. I knew I said some f*cked up shit but I didn't mean anything by it."_

I told him it was good to see him back to his old self again and to not worry. If I had lived by my dad's rule, he would have already been down for the count. I liked to see the good in people.

Our PD was still mostly white and some hispanic. I don't think there was anyone I worked with that was unbearable. At worst, they were just okay. I patrolled solo but it was always nice whenever I had a partner, especially a talker. I liked listening to people. Made time go faster. They would talk about anything they wanted to and I just replied with a few yesses or uh huhs along with a couple of questions.
Things we said among close friends then could make an average young adult today squirm. It's all about the intentions, not the words. Of course, we didn't say these things to anybody we didn't know or who didn't deserve it.
I had breakfast at my favorite diner one morning. The waitress talked to me in a bitter and dismissive tone, with a frown on her face. She threw a bill at me. I was perplexed. I finished my coffee and raised the cup and said "Ma'am, could I have another cup of coffee, please?" With a genuine smile on my face. She looked back, changed her demeanor immediately and said "Coming right up!". She filled me another cup with a smile. I finished my meal and left her a tip. It pays to be nice.

You take the good with the bad in this line of work. I think it's true in every job on some level. But in this job, the bad can get you killed.
I had only had to use my baton to knock some sense into people up until this point. It was here where I got to use my sidearm. First time was just laying down cover fire for other officers. It wasn't hard to shoot at a moving silhouette from afar, kind of like in Vietnam. It's when you are in front of a human being, seeing their face, you ask yourself "Will I be able to pull the trigger?". I'd like to think I could. I had to. There was no body armor back then, at least the one that wasn't bulky enough to wear. There wouldn't be for another decade when they were widely used.
Getting shot was a big no no.

I was always thankful when a suspect complied. Nobody likes a fidgety suspect. Especially when they're in a vehicle.

_We don't know if you have a weapon on your person. Contrary to popular belief, we don't shoot on sight, no matter how dangerous you are. It's when you come charging at us with a weapon or go for your gun is when we do._

As the city grew, problems grew. More gangs, more drugs, more violence. People joined, people died, people left.
I was with a partner and we were responding to a domestic abuse. The couple had been at it for a while, it appeared. Both had cuts and bruises. The wife was a feisty young lady with a potty mouth that just wouldn't stop yapping. I told my partner to question her in the living room. It was his specialty. The husband seemed a fair bit calmer and more reasonable. It was the same story I had heard a million times before. He said she started it. I told him to stay right there while I went and had a talk with my partner. She said the opposite and wanted to have him arrested. I went back to him and said his wife wanted to press charges so he was going to jail and he could do the same as well. He didn't like that. He turned around and grabbed a kitchen knife. I already had my gun trained at him as my reaction time was faster. Before I even had a chance to order him to drop it, he was already running at me. I thought I could sidestep out of the way in time but he managed to put the knife through the side of my left abdomen. I pushed him down on the ground while my partner came running to secure him. I touched the side of my body and realized the full extend of my injury. My partner yelled at me "Are you okay?" "Why didn't you shoot?". I said I was okay and then walked to the car to call for help. I walked slowly, still in shock and not feeling too much pain yet, with adrenaline still flowing. I sat on the driver's seat with the door open and one leg hanging out as I didn't want to get blood on the seat. After finished the call, the pain was getting a bit more pronounced. I didn't like the smell of blood. I felt like I was either going to pass out or throw up, whichever came first.  I sat there and waited for, what felt like, forever. My partner put tended to my wound the best he could and tried to keep me conscious.

Thank god, the knife didn't go all the way through. It could have pierced something important. I wanted to see the good in people but this didn't make it easy either.


To be continued...


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## Alligatorob (Feb 12, 2022)

@RFW you have a way of keeping me on the edge of my chair!  

Thanks


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## Jules (Feb 12, 2022)

RFW said:


> It pays to be nice.


It really does.  

That attack was brutal.  Did the man serve a lengthy sentence?


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## RFW (Feb 12, 2022)

Jules said:


> It really does.
> 
> That attack was brutal.  Did the man serve a lengthy sentence?


Aggravated assault with a deadly weapon can get you from one year up to twenty behind bars. It didn't help that he injured a police officer. He had no priors. He got ten, I think.
I had to appear before the judge. He was apologetic throughout the whole process, sincere or not, I harbored no ill will against him. I must admit I could have waited until my partner showed up to back me. Sometimes I had to do it by myself if the situation called for it or I expected no resistance. I made sure to point this fact out to the judge. Some would disagree but I played my part in this that influenced this outcome. Legally, I would have been justified in shooting him. My partner could have easily shot him. I'm glad he didn't die. If I had to do it over again, I would do exactly the same thing. Maybe I would try to be quicker but oh well.


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## RFW (Feb 12, 2022)

Alligatorob said:


> @RFW you have a way of keeping me on the edge of my chair!
> 
> Thanks


That was where my draft ended. Sorry!!!


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## Jules (Feb 12, 2022)

Not an easy decision to draw/fire your gun.  At least you recovered and he got the kind of sentence deserved for an attack on a police officer, JMO.  He’s was likely single not long after that night.


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## RFW (Feb 12, 2022)

Jules said:


> Not an easy decision to draw/fire your gun.  At least you recovered and he got the kind of sentence deserved for an attack on a police officer, JMO.  He’s was likely single not long after that night.


He had a nice house with a pretty young thing. I guess we can safely assume how he reeled in somebody like that.


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## RFW (Feb 12, 2022)

I realize I should give my partner a name. I worked with multiple officers but this partner was my best friend and the one I worked with the most. From now on, he will be referred as "Jacob".



I was discharged from the hospital a day later. No lasting damage. I would have a week off with the wife at home. I was stiff all over and came down with a mild fever that lasted a few days. We had just bought a piano. I lay down on the couch and watched her play. Piano became my favorite instrument. We made love that night.

There is something to be said about the ability to read the room, especially when your life depends on it. Most situations you never have enough time to form a conclusion, but you still have to do it. I was told I was good at reading people. I think it was just luck. As the recent incident showed, it could run out.

I saw hippies sometimes. If all they did was smoke their weed and didn't disturb the peace, I couldn't care less. As long as they didn't have enough to distribute, I just let them be.

When I pulled over someone with a suspended license, if they were being honest and truthful and not a repeated offender, I didn't arrest or give them a ticket. I would tell them to leave the car here and I would take them somewhere where they could make a phone call. It was not by the book but it was human decency.
Once in a while, I'd run into someone who could effortlessly lie through their teeth, making you sympathize. This one was driving with broken taillights. I saw that he had just pulled out of a restaurant I asked him if he needed a ride, he said no, he would walk over there to the restaurant to call someone from there. I left only to find him an hour later driving the same car. He bamboozled me. He wouldn't get my sympathy this time.

Mistakes have a way of making me reminisce past events and how to avoid repeating them in the future. They also have a way of making me feel like a fool. You can never get it right every time. You can't always get it wrong either. It's just the way it is. If only we could think like a robot, capable of making on-the-fly split second decisions precisely, governed by only logic. But to trade human emotions for it is too high a price to pay.

Jacob was always the one to cheer me up. Not with kind words but with jokes. He had saved my life once already and all I did to replay him was club him in the cheek by mistake in a scuffle. He did not appreciate that. He said he would get back at me some day.
If I were a matchstick, he would be a matchbox. We called him The Great Wall (of China) sometimes. He was half Chinese. Nothing could get past him.
One time during an arrest, a suspect broke loose and pushed me hard to the ground. I had my guard up while he was trying to bash my head in. Jacob kicked the guy right off me like he was swatting a fly and subdued him with ease. I'd like to think he waited a few seconds to let the guy get some hits in before doing that as payback. At least my cheek wasn't as swollen as his was.

He was a suave kind of guy who could charm any woman, and he did. Throughout the years, he had had so many girlfriends I lost count. He was rich and still lived with his mom and not ashamed of it, not one bit. His mom was very nice and friendly to me. She told me to watch him for her as she did not like some of the things he did for fun. He would occasionally do some cocaine and meth when he could get his hands on some. I didn't think he lifted any out of the evidence room. He certainly could afford it. I would say that he was a responsible drug user. He would take just enough to feel something and not enough to get addicted. I don't know how this works but he always came to work sober and kept his cool better than I ever did. I think he saw more unpleasant things in Vietnam than I did. I didn't think I needed to do anything about his drug use.



To be continued...


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## palides2021 (Feb 12, 2022)

Very exciting life you led, RFW! Also very dangerous! Definitely interesting reading.


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## RFW (Feb 12, 2022)

palides2021 said:


> Very exciting life you led, RFW! Also very dangerous! Definitely interesting reading.


I'm glad you find it so. Funny how the more I go through this memory lane, I recall things I forgot. Despite all the horrible things that happened, I consider myself blessed. I hear some people's stories with one tragedy after another, I realize how much I have been spared in life.


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## RFW (Feb 13, 2022)

Speaking of drugs, as someone who dislikes them, in any shape or form, I have come to accept those who do/depend on them for a number of reasons. I used to think I could never be friends with a drug user but as I mentioned, Jacob being one didn't change the fact that I loved and respected him all the same and he showed that it could be kept under control.

Drug busts, which used to be few and far between, had become more common as time went on. The job required I be able to tell them apart so technically I can't say I was squeaky clean. Each time I sniffed a tiny bit, it went into my system. Not enough to have any effect, of course. These days you can just use a test kit for hard drugs.

Nobody likes dealing with a drug addict, high as a kite. Especially hard drugs such as PCP for one, Call it PCP or Angel Dust or whatever, there's nothing angelic about it. It gives you an out of body experience while taking control of your mind and body. That's why you sometimes see 5 or more cops surrounding a single person, standing around seemingly doing nothing. All precautions still apply here. You determine if the suspect is armed. No amount of reasons in the world can make them listen. They're just mentally not there. You'd have an easier time reasoning with a toddler. If you're the only one there, you absolutely have to wait for backup while trying to contain and calm the suspect so they don't hurt anybody. They are also incapable of feeling pain. Forget the baton and the taser (which wasn't available until much later). They don't work on these people.

We are trained to shoot center mass and not anywhere else for a reason. Firstly, your shots are the most likely to land on the biggest part of a body. Even point blank, a suspect's limbs are moving constantly and unpredictably, you are more likely to miss and hit something/someone else. Secondly, statistically, you are likely to survive a gunshot to the body than anywhere else. Arms and legs have arteries. You don't want to try to disable somebody and cause them to bleed to death instead (more on this later).
Thirdly, shooting them in an arm or leg doesn't guarantee that they will immediately go down. Humans are resilient. Our bodies fight back with everything we have until we are no longer in danger or we die. I was shot in my dominant arm and it felt like a pinch that turned nasty much later. In the heat of the moment, someone had to point out I had blood on my arm. We are such amazing creatures.

Back to the suspect, they do need to have several officers pushing them down. They need to be cuffed and hogtied, cowboy style. Not a fun time. I still can't believe something can turn a man into such an uncontrollable monster. I hope this has been, at the very least, informative.



To be continued.


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## RFW (Feb 13, 2022)

Throughout my 30s, there had not been much of interest to mention here. I had accumulated a fair number of injuries. An aforementioned stab wound, a shot in the arm, a broken tooth, a broken arm twice (not serious), black eyes, cuts, bruises, sprains, the works.
I started to feel changes in my body. I became slower and less nimble. It took more effort to jump and vault over things. I was out of breath more often. I sometimes got aches and pains just from doing light work. My prime had ended. All this had taken a toll on my body.

I had long retired my trusty but slow revolver and replaced it with my old friend, Colt 1911 and a wearable body armor. Everything had to be bought out of pocket.
Fun facts: We don't flick a revolver open to reload like in the movies. That is not good for the cylinder and it will eventually break if you keep doing that. We also don't cock the hammer every time we want to say we mean business. I make sure the hammer is cocked when I draw and we were supposed to leave it cocked in the holster. Guns can also be fired uncocked. The trigger is just a bit harder to press. We were/are also required to have a round in the chamber at all times. Basically the guns have to be ready to go. No time consuming and unnecessary hand actions. I also got into the habit of doing a chamber check just to be sure. This is actually what I've seen done more and more in movies and is a good practice.
Just like everything, accidents happen when you don't know what you're doing or get reckless.

I had been known as a driver and a gun guy among my group. I had shot and wounded suspects from a distance. I had gained more experience and packed a few more pounds to look the part. As I got close to 40, I realized how easy it was to gain weight. Mom's trait could only do so much.
I got to drive fast and I hadn't been in any accident. The closest I got to dying in a car accident was when I was on a nightshift, driving with Jacob. I was pulling a double shift and tonight I got very tired. I think I fell asleep for just a few seconds but I don't know for sure. I then opened my eyes and we were already in a turn but my hands were already turning the wheel. I didn't jerk and took control once again. Jacob didn't even react to it like nothing had happened. He would have teased me to no end, had he known. I was awake the whole night, just thinking about it. I made sure to never fall asleep on the wheel again.

When you're on the job, your morals get tested all the time. You cannot let your anger take over you. You do things you don't want to but they have to be done. You do the dirty work so others can sleep soundly at night. Different people have different limits on what they're willing to do.
I almost died because my moral compass and logic didn't agree. I could only hope I wouldn't end up in the same situation, not when I was still conflicted.

I was over 40 years old now. We were about to make one of the biggest drug busts the city had ever seen. Sometimes things just didn't go to plan. Now we got to round up the heavily armed escapees. I went ahead. I knew backup was not far behind. I was outside an open double door, ready for anything coming my way. Along came this young man, he must have been 15, just a few years older than my boys. I froze again. I didn't want to lose my way. He wasted no time firing at me. I felt something landed on my chest. I knew the vest caught it because it felt like a punch. The young man looked shocked. I fired two shots to the right of him to scare him into surrendering. I was giving him this one last chance or I'd shoot him for real. He must have seen the guys coming so he finally dropped the gun. I was going to make an arrest but my leg felt like I had pebbles in it. I looked down and these was a small pool of blood I was in. The artery was probably shot and all this excitement was only going to make me bleed more and more. I couldn't keep calm. At this point, I still had my full weight on both feet. I dared not move. One of the guys yelled at me to lie down. The guys carried me away. All I could think was "Man, this is gonna get me laid up for week".

The bullet hit my Tibia and Fibula right below the knee and pierced an artery. I'm sure I was in and out of it. I was so afraid I would feel it when they cut my leg open. I didn't feel much but I got to be high on something. I woke up and I already knew my leg was definitely broken. I was informed they removed the bullet fragments and the bones broke into little pieces. I would need another surgery soon.
The leg was later fitted with a metal frame that needed to be cleaned regularly. I spent a month or so at the hospital and two more at home until the damn thing came off, followed by a full leg cast that went up to my waist (Think "Rear Window") for another three months and a shorter one for another three months. Almost a year until I could work on this leg again. Lots of PT after. The leg gives me issues sometimes to this day but at least I get to keep it.



To be continued...

Edit: I feel I would be doing a disservice if I didn't clarify the last past in this story and it wouldn't be fair to all of you.
The decision I made regarding the young man was technically and logically a monumental mistake and a poor judgment for reasons below.

I made a decision not to shoot based on faith alone. I had no way of knowing how he would react. I didn't know him. I didn't have a baseline to work with. I had no time to assess his behavior. This is how some of the officers died so young.
It would have led to my death and/or other officers' since he could have continued to shoot me or others if he had run back where he came from.
All officers need to look out for each other's safety. We need to be on the same page. Nobody likes a liability. Creating a dangerous situation for the team is unacceptable.
The outcome of this was the best anyone could have asked for but in reality, it doesn't happen very often. Even less so in the current political climate. It pains me to this day to think more fellow officers and innocent people could have died because of me. I was not a saint.
It could have been considered gross negligence or even involuntary manslaughter.
My original intent for writing the story still stands, as a cautionary tale.


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## RubyK (Feb 13, 2022)

RFW ~ I am enjoying your life story. You are a good writer. I'm looking forward to the next section.


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## RFW (Feb 13, 2022)

RubyK said:


> RFW ~ I am enjoying your life story. You are a good writer. I'm looking forward to the next section.


Thank you, RubyK. I plan to see it through to the end of my career now that I'm almost there. Check back soon.


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## Jules (Feb 13, 2022)

Not sure if it’s the same leg that you broke recently, but if so, it’s sure taken a beating - and kept on ticking.


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## RFW (Feb 13, 2022)

Jules said:


> Not sure if it’s the same leg that you broke recently, but if so, it’s sure taken a beating - and kept on ticking.


Yes it is. And still broken. I have a matchstick leg to match my old matchstick self.


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## Jackie23 (Feb 14, 2022)

RFW said:


> You do things you don't want to but they have to be done. You do the dirty work so others can sleep soundly at night.


That pretty well says it all.....Thank you
....and thank you for your story.


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## RFW (Feb 14, 2022)

It was not all bad though. I got to spend a lot of time with the wife and kids. We took them to Disneyland. I couldn't get on any rides but I was glad they had loads of fun. The guys back at the station must have been jealous.

To think that I could have been an amputee was troubling at times. It was a real wake up call. I heard the young man who shot me would be tried as an adult. I hoped he would turn his life around. I'd like to think the second chance I gave him meant something, that it didn't lead him to a fate worse than death. 
I began to rethink my career choice. I wasn't just going to make a big change, as usual. I was not easy for me to reinvent myself. There was comfort in going through the motions.

My parents came to see us for Christmas and New Year. I told them I tripped on something and broke my leg. They didn't need to know the truth. They didn't need the stress. It was heartwarming to have everyone here.

Some time later, my mom called and told me dad had fallen ill but he was doing okay. She told me to come right away. I told her I couldn't. I had promised to cover for one of the guys at work. I asked her to put him on the phone. She wouldn't. That was not a good sign. I pushed her harder until she came clean and said dad had passed away last night of a heart attack. I had just talked to him last week. I didn't cry. I was just stunned. I told her I would call back as I needed time to make arrangements. I hung up and just sat there. All the memories of him came rushing back to me, all the things I never said, all the things I wanted him to know. I cried in my wife's arms that night.

I made it back to my hometown. Mom wasn't too broken up about it. She was just happy to see me I guess. I cried again when I saw his lifeless body. He looked so peaceful, free of pain. I thought about how he had changed in the last couple years of his life. It was like he had taken off his armor and become a warmer person. He hugged me more. I found it strange at the time. I wished I had shown him more love. I did care but I should have shown it. I always regret things when it's already too late to do anything about it. I recalled one of the last things he said to me. He said "Whatever you do, I hope you find happiness in life". I shouldn't have disregarded at first. Now, when I think of this, I think of him.

We went through his stuff. I found some computer books. I didn't know he was interested in computer. I found some woodwork he enjoyed making so much. A lot of unfinished projects. We cleaned up the place and boarded it up. We didn't want to sell it. He left everything to me as an only son. He knew I would give mom anything she wanted. She came to live with us back home.

All the teachings I got came from dad. Mom was always in the background, making sure I was properly clothed and fed. She did teach me how to be tidy. I never had a messy room and I liked that. Like my wife, she always kept busy, helping us with chores. She loved my wife for how well she had taken care of me and the boys.
She died a few years later of the same goddamned disease. I'm glad she was with us when she did. I guess it really does run in the family. I hope it didn't get passed down to my boys. I hope they outlive me.



To be continued...


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## RFW (Feb 14, 2022)

Jackie23 said:


> That pretty well says it all.....Thank you
> ....and thank you for your story.


Thank you so much.


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## Pinky (Feb 14, 2022)

Thank you for showing us your heart @RFW 
It is not an easy thing for many to do - including myself.


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## RFW (Feb 14, 2022)

Pinky said:


> Thank you for showing us your heart @RFW
> It is not an easy thing for many to do - including myself.


Thank you for reading as well!


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## RFW (Feb 14, 2022)

I think we all felt some sense of invincibility when we were young. I did but I I had never wanted to throw my life away on purpose.  I was in mid 40s now. Mortality was starting to get to us. Me and the guys. We felt like we had been through so much and also done so much. We jokingly talked about what our funerals would be like. I said I wasn't gonna to go any of their stinkin' funerals and they were welcome to get the f**k out of mine. I'd haunt the s**t out of them. We all wrote notes that would be given to our families in case something happened to any of us. We agreed that they would want closure.

We saw unpleasant things all the time. Things you just want to look away. Things you just have to get used to but you never do. We shared our experiences but there were some things we were more comfortable keeping to ourselves. We each had our own coping mechanisms.
I used to like horror/slasher movies, being the mature kid that I was. I didn't see the appeal anymore. I'm sure doctors and nurses have seen worse. How do they get used to it? Do they ever?

I was back in business again. Glad nothing bad happened while I was gone. I loved the days when nothing happened, driving and chatting all day long. There is beauty in everything, you just have to look for it.

Today started out the same as most days. Jacob rode with me. I had been solo for the past two days. I listened to him talking smack about some girl I didn't even know. I got a call to do a welfare check. He said he knew the family, husband and wife and a kid. Should be easy enough. We got to their place, rang the doorbell, got no answer. He said we should check his place of business. It was a clock repair shop located on a quiet street. I parked on the opposite side of the shop. My belt had somehow become loose. I must have loosen it when we were having lunch and I ate too much. I told him "Hey, wait up!" but he was already out the door. He never listened to me. Now I knew what it felt like when I did the same to him. It took me almost a minute but I was all geared up now. I headed to the shop and as I opened the door, I heard a loud bang. The shop owner with a gun in his hand was standing in front of me, looking to my right, couldn't have been more than fifteen feet. He started turning towards me but my shots had already been fired, without any hesitation in my mind. I shot him four times until his fat ass went down. I secured the weapon and turned around to see Jacob lying on the floor. I checked on him and saw a gunshot wound to his temple. He was shot point blank. He must have been dead before he hit the ground. That son of a b**ch didn't even give him a chance to fight back. He would have been utterly destroyed. I radioed for help and all I remember doing was putting my hands over his wounds, saying something to get a response. That fat f**k could just choke on his own blood for all I cared.
Help arrived. He was pronounced dead at the scene. I remember just sitting on a sidewalk, crying my eyes out. I could have just finished him off but that would have been mercy. It'd be better to leave him rotting in jail for the rest of his life. 
I was told to take a day off.

Dealing with the aftermath was tough. I was never good at expressing condolences. I went to his funeral, gave his letter to his mom and hugged her. I told her I was sorry I was too late to save him. She had no idea how close I was. If only I had just one more second.
I went to a therapist as requested by my boss. Same old stuff I had heard before that meant much less coming from somebody I didn't personally know. I had never had an outburst. They had no reason to suspend me. I would just have to deal with it my own way. A week off should be enough time to clear my head.



To be continued...


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