White Guy in the Projects: A war story

I moved down to the southeast after several years at a mid size police dept. in the northeast.  I spent 2 years at a Public Safety Dept. and loathed it.  I was never so bored.  I yearned for real police work again.  I took a position with an urban city police dept. that was, at the time, a struggling city trying to find its own identity.  It was quite a culture shock from my northern home state.  This was a whole different animal and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't apprehensive, but it was what I had yearned for and I thrived on the excitement.  If you wanted or needed a definition of "urban jungle," this city was it.  These streets were full of prostitution, drug deals, juveniles who can steal a car faster than you can snap your fingers, shootings, stabbings, robberies, burglaries, and our homicide rate averaged 50-60 per year.  This city also had its 'projects' that were spread out over 400 square acres.

I was assigned to one of our "hot" zones where sometimes you just went from call to call, clearing them as quickly as you can because they're backing up faster than dispatchers can get them on the air.  Tonight I had a ride along.  In those days, it was common practice for a dispatcher to ride a long a couple of times in various sectors, to get to know the territory and see what it's like in this big bad city.

My dispatcher ride along tonight, "Linda" was a small woman with a sweet, calming voice, and a quick, dry wit.  [She'll need it]  She was young [hey, so was I once] and was initially cautious, but I tried to put her at ease and we were cracking jokes after about 15 minutes.  The great thing about a dispatch ride along, is that it frees you up from one of the other 9 things you're trying to do while driving.

We had been on a couple of minor calls and it was getting dark.  We were near the projects and I was headed that way to give her the tour, when some idiot in a Buick blows the stop sign right in front of me.  DAM!
I hit the lights and siren and this guy stomps on it!  The driver is short, so it's safe to say he's not old enough to have a driver's license and it looks like there's another juvie in the car with him.  They head straight for the projects.  Dispatcher Linda is calling the shots on the radio for me; initiating a vehicle stop call to what then becomes a pursuit.  This little punk doesn't want to stop for the po-leece!

The rug rat heads right straight into the main street of the projects.  Section 8 and low income housing.  Our tax dollars.  Now we all know what happens when there's pretty little police lights and sirens in the projects....yep, houses empty.  There's always people and kids hanging at or near the street anyway, but something like this brings mob action.
This moron takes a last minute right turn and the driver and passenger doors fly open simultaneously.  Oh yea, they're bailing.  They get out of the car, running in 2 different directions and the poor Buick rolls in to a light pole.
Meanwhile, Linda is talking care of radio business while I focus on trying to catch the bad guys.  I can hear radio traffic and back up is en route.  When you had a call in the projects, you never went alone, no matter what the call.  Not having been on the department long, I hadn't met everyone yet but heard a Detective say he was in the area and headed in that way.

Once they bailed, I parked the car, I told Linda to lock herself in, and I went in foot pursuit of the driver.  There were 5 buildings in a row, all with about 5 town house type apartments.  They had a front and back door and clothes lines in every yard.  I chased after the driver who was zigging and zagging through the apartment buildings.  I had my weapon in my hand and came to the end of a building to do a quick peek before proceeding.  As I rounded the corner -  there was a face and I yelled, "POLICE! FREEZE!"
I was pointing my gun in to the face of a white male, who was wearing a shirt and tie and had a gun of his own.  He said,  "I'm Detective T-t-t-iii-t-t-t us.  Don't shoot the white guy in a tie!"
That's it....we both lost it....and started giggling like little school girls.  Oh hell, we already lost the bad guy.  Other officers were in the area and now that there were so many people every where, the odds of apprehending the little bastards were slim to none.  Another officer had picked up Linda and taken her out of there for her safety and someone had already ordered a tow truck.  We were going to process this scene quickly and then get out.

For many years after, Det. T. and I would always great each other with him throwing his hands in the air saying, "Don't shoot" and my responding with my finger pointed at him, saying "White guy in a tie."