A True MacGyver Moment

 

My neighbor’s car locked him out after he’d unhooked the battery.  It was then he realized that the mechanical key didn’t open the door, someone having unhooked the important parts of the lock inside the door frame, probably using a ‘Slim Jim’ or similar tool. 

I explained that I no longer had any locksmith tools, having given those away when I retired several years ago.  I still understood how to by pass the system; just that I’d need to be creative, I think that’s the term, in deciding how to attack the challenge.

I had a nice long antenna out in the connex storage building along with some empty plastic kitty litter containers.  I went to the kitchen and borrowed two Teflon coated spatulas to use for wedges and figured that might work.

I cut the kitty litter container into flat sheets and started to insert these one at a time, bypassing the tight seal of the passenger side front door.  Then another and another until the first spatula was able to get past the upright post.  I placed sheets of plastic from the kitty litter container along the edges of the door so the antenna, while being inserted, wouldn’t scratch or mar the door edges.  My neighbor had two small pieces of trim wood that had enough strength to gently pry the door edge, just enough to permit the antenna access to where the door lock was located.

This was when I started to sing a church hymn, mostly in fun; but I think the Lord was helping all this time, “Guide Us, O Thou Great Jehovah”.  I had my neighbor help guide the antenna’s working end by looking through the window until it landed squarely on the lock’s pivot point.

The whole operation didn’t take that long and it was quite exhilarating to be able to walk in the footsteps of the master of modified tricks.  Thank you, MacGyver, for an inspired moment.

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First Aid Training

This Wednesday the Young Women and Young Men attending the Madisonville Branch of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints will hold a combined meeting where they will have training on basic First Aid.  This kind of activity will be beneficial since one never knows when such training might be needed.

I was reminded that while working for the Houston Police Department, all officers were required to complete at least eight hours of First Aid training each year as mandated by the State of Texas.  Night shift officers would be asked to show up during the day for this training and receive overtime pay.  This later was changed to where the training was done on night shift at the Police Academy.

There had been a scandal of sorts in the late 1980’s where an officer from the Northeast Substation had been accused of stealing money from those he’d arrested for being drunk.  This was an embarrassment for every police officer as the Houston Chronicle had fun printing a couple of articles painting the entire Department as if it were common practice for officers to steal money from prisoners.

Internal Affairs figured out which officer was involved, set up a situation where he’d be the one to arrest an individual carrying marked bills and let the incident play out.  Sure enough, upon finishing the booking of the prisoner, the officer was found to be in possession of the marked money. 

Hopefully that’s the last time he was permitted to wear the uniform; but what has this got to do with First Aid training?

Upon showing up at the Police Academy building over by the airport, there were about 2 officers from each substation seated around a large conference table.  The First Aid instructor was from Social Services; but not a police officer, and he decided to find out how much each of us knew without having been given training, at least not as yet.

He pointed to one officer, having looked at his name tag, and asked, “Officer So and So, you’re on patrol and come upon a man bleeding severely, his having fallen through a plate glass window.  What’s the first thing you should do?”   That officer gave a reasonable response, and so it went as the instructor made it around the table.

Pointing in my direction he asked, “Officer Stern, while on patrol you come across a man lying face down in the ditch.  What’s the first thing you should do?”

Without hesitating my response was, “Well, if you’re from the Northeast Substation the first thing you do is go through his wallet looking for money.”  A round of muffled laughter broke out around the conference table, that is, all except from the two officers from the Northeast Substation who didn’t think it was funny at all.

The Hot Sheet

 

A fellow retired police officer reminded me that at one time patrol officers were handed a Hot Sheet while in Roll Call.  This was a list of currently reported stolen vehicles which could be useful while on patrol.  It must be remembered; this was before the advent of the computer age and most police cars didn’t even have a ‘good time radio’ as they were considered a distraction.

(Image courtesy of Bing dot com)

There were any number of ways to fold these Hot Sheets to make them more accessible when they were stashed above the sun visor.  Since these were printed in columns and there were so many stolen vehicles to be listed, that meant at least two Hot Sheets, sometimes more to be carefully folded to make the most of this information.

When I was a rookie, recovering a stolen vehicle was one of the items on my ‘Bucket List’.  You have to have recovered at least one stolen vehicle to be able to look in the mirror and hold your head high.  Weeks went by and nothing; but each day I’d religiously scan the lists hoping to score.

The senior police officer would drive around to check different known drop locations hoping we’d stumble across an abandoned stolen vehicle.  Some officers seemingly had a magic touch as they’d call for a wrecker almost daily to haul off their find.  I wasn’t that officer.

That day finally arrived, and I remember the feeling of pride.  In my mind, the right to wear the blue uniform had been penciled in.  It felt like a beam of sunshine was created especially for me as I called the listed owner to announce my success.

“Sir, this is Officer Stern with the Houston Police Department calling to let you know we’ve recovered your stolen truck.”  I was awaiting cheers, maybe even some confetti tossed in my direction.

“I bet my bass boat wasn’t with it.”  A dark cloud blocked out all the excitement as his words landed on my ear. Not only was this guy not going to recommend me for Rookie of the Year for having recovered his shiny new Ford F-150, but he was flat out disappointed in how long it had taken to give him the bad news; his prized fishing boat was never going to be found.

The senior officer smiled as he watched my reaction, “You’ll get used to that.”  Becoming a hero police officer wasn’t going to be easy.