Two times were somewhat similar, both were arrests for DWLS, driving while license suspended. As to why my license had the misfortune of not being legal had to do with some bad choices I made. As to how I ended up getting busted, well....
First time, I had just pulled up to a stop sign, driving a 1967 Ford Mustang. As I was looking to see when I could jump out in traffic, I was rear-ended from behind. I got out to see what happened, to find a VW Bug with a smashed in front fender. The guy got out and started yelling at me. I yelled back that he hit me, and had no business yelling at me about his car. A few minutes later, an officer showed up, apparently someone must have called from an area office since it was 1992 and not too many people had mobile phones. Anyway, the officer took our stories, and decided the accident had to be my fault because I had a suspended license. I should not have been on the the road in the first place, plus backing into the gentleman in the nice VW was icing on the cake. Of course officer, as I was sitting at a stop sign waiting to jump out into traffic I just happened to throw it into reverse and slam into the unlucky bastard behind me. Well, as it turns out, I was arrested and taken down to the city jail. Luckily, my car was left in a parking spot near by the scene of the accident and not towed to the impound lot.
This happens to be the first time I had ever been arrested, so I was pretty scared when I was placed in a holding cell with several other less than acceptable looking guys who were there for God knows what. I remember that I was freezing and since everything was concrete, there was no comfortable place to sit. I ended up sitting on the floor and falling asleep. It was several hours later when I woke up and the cell was empty. Upon arriving I was told I would be released on my own recognizance, and it wouldn't take long. Six hours in, I started yelling out the door for the 'CO' (aka Correction Officer) to find out what was going on. It's one thing to be in a holding cell with a few other people, but it seems a lot creepier when you are left alone. Eventually, someone decided to file my report and a 'CO' came and woke me out of my slumber by yelling my name several times. Locked up for 11 hours was something I never wanted to do again, and after being booked and photographed I was sent out with a court date.
The second time I was busted for DWLS I was helping out a friend. Sitting at home minding my own business, I get a call from a friend who was several months pregnant. She was working at a fast food place about 5 miles from my current location and had fell on the wet floor. She was concerned about her baby and wanted me to come take her to her doctor to get checked out. I told her I had a suspended license, but she said there was no one else she could call. So I went. At first it was quite uneventful, drove to her work and picked her up. She said she was feeling better and would be glad if I could just take her home. That sounded great to me since she lived in the same neighborhood as my parents where I was staying. I figured I made it here I could just as well get back to the confines of our little quiet neighborhood.
As luck would have it, just a couple lights before the turn to head towards home and safety, I get the Whoop-Whoop from behind me. I didn't understand really, there was a lot of traffic so I knew I wasn't speeding. Hadn't made any illegal lane changes, so I was pretty stumped to my situation. I did what you are suppose to do and I pulled over into a mall parking lot. When the officer came up to my vehicle, he seemed very cautious about everything and I was getting nervous. As he got to my window I blurted out, 'Officer, my license is suspended, but my friend here fell at work and was worried about her baby, so the only reason I am on the road is because I was just trying to help her.' Funny thing was, as much as I was shitting myself, he suddenly seemed more relaxed.
He looked at Kim and asked how she was doing and if she needed and ambulance. She said no, everything was fine and was on her way home. UGH!! He then opened my door and asked that I come with him. We walked to the back of my car and he stared at me for a minute. For those of you that have been pulled over in a busy section of town, you realize how embarrassing it can be, but it seems much worse when you are standing behind your car being talked to by the officer. He asked where I was two nights past, and how long I had my car. I told him I was at home with my parents because my license was suspended and I recently purchased the primer colored rust bucket about a month prior. The rust bucket in question was a Ford Maverick 302 that was painted primer green and grey over the original brown. It wasn't much to look at, but the 4 barrel carb sitting on that beauty of an engine could still cause rust to flake off at every stomp of the gas pedal or 'foot feed' as my Step dad called it.
After a brief uneasiness on my part from the once over, the officer said he had pulled me over because my car matched the description of one used in a jewelry robbery. Though after he stopped me, he realized it was not the car they were looking for. And since this wasn't my first time getting busted for DWLS he was going to have to haul me in. Since he was in a 'good mood' he was going to let Kim drive my car to my house instead of it getting impounded. But he and I had to wait until a cruiser could come get me since he was FHP and drove a Mustang. So after discussing it with Kim, she drove off headed for home and I was left handcuffed standing in the Fashion Square Mall parking lot.
Fifteen minutes into waiting and sharing stories about the 302 cubic inches of power we each had in our rides, the officer decided it was taking to too long for a cruiser to respond. He looked at me and said I looked like a decent enough fella and would let me ride in the Mustang with him. If I moved in any wrong way though, he would shoot the smile off my face. Come to think of it, I don't really remember being in a smiling mood, but he thought it was a good threat.
Not much else was different this time from the first time I visited this wonderful establishment. Scary people sitting around waiting to find out their destinies, and I trying my best not to think about pooping since there were 15 men with one metal toilet to share. And to top it off, if worse came to it, I would have to ask a guy to move who was using it as a seat since every other spot to sit was taken. It wasn't as long this time, within 5 hours and I was again headed out with a court date and feeling like crap.
The third, and hopefully, final time I was in apprehended by 'The Man' was on a little known date of September 10, 2001. Yep, you are now thinking, 'Where was I when this went down?' Well, it was around 8pm on Monday September 10th, and I was coming around the west side of I465. I had a little too much pressure on the 'Foot Feed' and the local constable took notice of my velocity. I was sitting on the side of the interstate when the officer came up to the window and said I was exceeding the speed limit and requested my license and registration. He took the items and returned to his cruiser. A few minutes later he came back and asked if I knew there was a warrant for my arrest. I did not have any idea what he was talking about. He said it was a civil matter, and suggested that I might owe back child support. At the time I was still married to my first wife, and looking over at her I asked 'Honey, is there something you want to tell me about?'
The officer then told me that since it was a civil matter, it wouldn't take long. He would just run me down to the station and file some paperwork. I should be home by midnight. Of course this is not how it happened. It was taking so long to get my paperwork ready, they decided I needed to spend the night. I was lead to a stack of cushions, told to take the top one and move on. Next, I was taken to a cell block that was already overcrowded, where all the beds were taking. So I placed the cushion on the floor between bunks and laid down. I never intended to fall asleep, but as it got closer to morning I must have dozed off.
Bright and early the next morning, I was called out of the cell block and directed to 'Medical'. First, I was informed that I had a bench warrant out for 'Failure to Appear' at I court date I knew nothing about. See, two years previously I had abandoned an apartment in Columbus, Indiana with my wife and children and moved to Indianapolis. At the time I didn't really think much about it. I figured they would ding my credit and make it hard for me to get another apartment, not try and sue me in civil court. The fact that they didn't have a forwarding address left me unknowingly missing my court dates and leading to the situation I was in. Next, I was told that I was to be held in Marion County Lockup until transportation could be arranged to extradite me to Bartholomew county to have my day in court. Then I was taking to stand in line where I would be asked several questions about my medical history. While several of us 'inmates' stood waiting in line watching a couple of tv's across the room. Reports of the first plane hitting the WTC tower was breaking in to what ever happened to be droning on that morning. Of course the room got louder with the conversation of what the tv was reporting. Lots of speculation about the bad pilots that airlines were hiring now a days and such. All of a sudden someone was screaming on the tv and they were showing the second airplane as it seemed to float right into the second tower. The previous hub bub of conversation suddenly got more intense in the tight area where we were lined up, but we still stood in line and took our turns at different cubicles answering questions about our sexual encounters and family orientations. Before I was sent back to the cell block that was temporarily my place of residence, there were more reports about other planes and various damage.
I took up my position on the cushion on the floor and was watching as people were playing Euchre and checkers and discussing the planes. Not sure how they smuggled a marker in, but I guess if the one guy snorting coke off the floor got it in, a marker was nothing. With use of ripped up small paper bags and the marker, someone made a couple decks of playing cards and drew a chess board on the floor. About mid afternoon, we were told that they had evacuated the entire City-County building which housed the little lock up we were held in, and left us in the capable hands of the local SWAT. First, I would just like to point out that the terrorists were attacking major cities, and as wonderful as Indianapolis may be, I doubt it plays very high on lists of cities to attack. Second, SWAT doesn't get out to play much and this was just the thing that gave them something to play with. Tuesday around 5 pm, SWAT came in the cell block and started collecting items of interest, things inmates shouldn't have in their possession. They noticed I was laying on the floor with my body length cushion and asked why I didn't have a boat? I said I didn't know what they meant by a boat and I was only given the cushion. I was then escorted down the hall to a stack of plastic 'boats'. And I do believe if you set it on water it would float. It basically looked like a wide canoe and the cushion I already had in my possession fit perfectly in the bottom. It was quite an improvement from being directly on the floor, plus gave me a better place to hide my lace-less shoes.
While I was sitting in jail, my first wife was calling around trying to find out when I was going to get moved to Bartholomew County and released so I could get back to work. Apparently, no one from Marion County informed Bartholomew County that I had been apprehended. And when she called them, it was the first they had heard about it. As it would happen, I had to sit in Marion County Lockup until Thursday afternoon before I was transported to Bartholomew County Jail. Talk about the difference of night and day. Marion County fed the inmates pimento loaf bologna sandwiches three times a day with a side of donuts and milk for breakfast and cookie and unlabeled fruit punch for lunch and dinner. When I arrived at Bartholomew around dinner time I was treated to a cafeteria style 'hot' food tray and a hot shower ALONE. It was quite an experience, not one I plan on trying again. Walking in shackles sucks, but hearing everyone's stories of how they got there, the level of their innocence and what they plan on doing when they got out was quite intriguing. So when I hear people talk about where they were on 9/11 I have to say I was in jail....
The second time I was busted for DWLS I was helping out a friend. Sitting at home minding my own business, I get a call from a friend who was several months pregnant. She was working at a fast food place about 5 miles from my current location and had fell on the wet floor. She was concerned about her baby and wanted me to come take her to her doctor to get checked out. I told her I had a suspended license, but she said there was no one else she could call. So I went. At first it was quite uneventful, drove to her work and picked her up. She said she was feeling better and would be glad if I could just take her home. That sounded great to me since she lived in the same neighborhood as my parents where I was staying. I figured I made it here I could just as well get back to the confines of our little quiet neighborhood.
As luck would have it, just a couple lights before the turn to head towards home and safety, I get the Whoop-Whoop from behind me. I didn't understand really, there was a lot of traffic so I knew I wasn't speeding. Hadn't made any illegal lane changes, so I was pretty stumped to my situation. I did what you are suppose to do and I pulled over into a mall parking lot. When the officer came up to my vehicle, he seemed very cautious about everything and I was getting nervous. As he got to my window I blurted out, 'Officer, my license is suspended, but my friend here fell at work and was worried about her baby, so the only reason I am on the road is because I was just trying to help her.' Funny thing was, as much as I was shitting myself, he suddenly seemed more relaxed.
He looked at Kim and asked how she was doing and if she needed and ambulance. She said no, everything was fine and was on her way home. UGH!! He then opened my door and asked that I come with him. We walked to the back of my car and he stared at me for a minute. For those of you that have been pulled over in a busy section of town, you realize how embarrassing it can be, but it seems much worse when you are standing behind your car being talked to by the officer. He asked where I was two nights past, and how long I had my car. I told him I was at home with my parents because my license was suspended and I recently purchased the primer colored rust bucket about a month prior. The rust bucket in question was a Ford Maverick 302 that was painted primer green and grey over the original brown. It wasn't much to look at, but the 4 barrel carb sitting on that beauty of an engine could still cause rust to flake off at every stomp of the gas pedal or 'foot feed' as my Step dad called it.
After a brief uneasiness on my part from the once over, the officer said he had pulled me over because my car matched the description of one used in a jewelry robbery. Though after he stopped me, he realized it was not the car they were looking for. And since this wasn't my first time getting busted for DWLS he was going to have to haul me in. Since he was in a 'good mood' he was going to let Kim drive my car to my house instead of it getting impounded. But he and I had to wait until a cruiser could come get me since he was FHP and drove a Mustang. So after discussing it with Kim, she drove off headed for home and I was left handcuffed standing in the Fashion Square Mall parking lot.
Fifteen minutes into waiting and sharing stories about the 302 cubic inches of power we each had in our rides, the officer decided it was taking to too long for a cruiser to respond. He looked at me and said I looked like a decent enough fella and would let me ride in the Mustang with him. If I moved in any wrong way though, he would shoot the smile off my face. Come to think of it, I don't really remember being in a smiling mood, but he thought it was a good threat.
Not much else was different this time from the first time I visited this wonderful establishment. Scary people sitting around waiting to find out their destinies, and I trying my best not to think about pooping since there were 15 men with one metal toilet to share. And to top it off, if worse came to it, I would have to ask a guy to move who was using it as a seat since every other spot to sit was taken. It wasn't as long this time, within 5 hours and I was again headed out with a court date and feeling like crap.
The third, and hopefully, final time I was in apprehended by 'The Man' was on a little known date of September 10, 2001. Yep, you are now thinking, 'Where was I when this went down?' Well, it was around 8pm on Monday September 10th, and I was coming around the west side of I465. I had a little too much pressure on the 'Foot Feed' and the local constable took notice of my velocity. I was sitting on the side of the interstate when the officer came up to the window and said I was exceeding the speed limit and requested my license and registration. He took the items and returned to his cruiser. A few minutes later he came back and asked if I knew there was a warrant for my arrest. I did not have any idea what he was talking about. He said it was a civil matter, and suggested that I might owe back child support. At the time I was still married to my first wife, and looking over at her I asked 'Honey, is there something you want to tell me about?'
The officer then told me that since it was a civil matter, it wouldn't take long. He would just run me down to the station and file some paperwork. I should be home by midnight. Of course this is not how it happened. It was taking so long to get my paperwork ready, they decided I needed to spend the night. I was lead to a stack of cushions, told to take the top one and move on. Next, I was taken to a cell block that was already overcrowded, where all the beds were taking. So I placed the cushion on the floor between bunks and laid down. I never intended to fall asleep, but as it got closer to morning I must have dozed off.
Bright and early the next morning, I was called out of the cell block and directed to 'Medical'. First, I was informed that I had a bench warrant out for 'Failure to Appear' at I court date I knew nothing about. See, two years previously I had abandoned an apartment in Columbus, Indiana with my wife and children and moved to Indianapolis. At the time I didn't really think much about it. I figured they would ding my credit and make it hard for me to get another apartment, not try and sue me in civil court. The fact that they didn't have a forwarding address left me unknowingly missing my court dates and leading to the situation I was in. Next, I was told that I was to be held in Marion County Lockup until transportation could be arranged to extradite me to Bartholomew county to have my day in court. Then I was taking to stand in line where I would be asked several questions about my medical history. While several of us 'inmates' stood waiting in line watching a couple of tv's across the room. Reports of the first plane hitting the WTC tower was breaking in to what ever happened to be droning on that morning. Of course the room got louder with the conversation of what the tv was reporting. Lots of speculation about the bad pilots that airlines were hiring now a days and such. All of a sudden someone was screaming on the tv and they were showing the second airplane as it seemed to float right into the second tower. The previous hub bub of conversation suddenly got more intense in the tight area where we were lined up, but we still stood in line and took our turns at different cubicles answering questions about our sexual encounters and family orientations. Before I was sent back to the cell block that was temporarily my place of residence, there were more reports about other planes and various damage.
I took up my position on the cushion on the floor and was watching as people were playing Euchre and checkers and discussing the planes. Not sure how they smuggled a marker in, but I guess if the one guy snorting coke off the floor got it in, a marker was nothing. With use of ripped up small paper bags and the marker, someone made a couple decks of playing cards and drew a chess board on the floor. About mid afternoon, we were told that they had evacuated the entire City-County building which housed the little lock up we were held in, and left us in the capable hands of the local SWAT. First, I would just like to point out that the terrorists were attacking major cities, and as wonderful as Indianapolis may be, I doubt it plays very high on lists of cities to attack. Second, SWAT doesn't get out to play much and this was just the thing that gave them something to play with. Tuesday around 5 pm, SWAT came in the cell block and started collecting items of interest, things inmates shouldn't have in their possession. They noticed I was laying on the floor with my body length cushion and asked why I didn't have a boat? I said I didn't know what they meant by a boat and I was only given the cushion. I was then escorted down the hall to a stack of plastic 'boats'. And I do believe if you set it on water it would float. It basically looked like a wide canoe and the cushion I already had in my possession fit perfectly in the bottom. It was quite an improvement from being directly on the floor, plus gave me a better place to hide my lace-less shoes.
While I was sitting in jail, my first wife was calling around trying to find out when I was going to get moved to Bartholomew County and released so I could get back to work. Apparently, no one from Marion County informed Bartholomew County that I had been apprehended. And when she called them, it was the first they had heard about it. As it would happen, I had to sit in Marion County Lockup until Thursday afternoon before I was transported to Bartholomew County Jail. Talk about the difference of night and day. Marion County fed the inmates pimento loaf bologna sandwiches three times a day with a side of donuts and milk for breakfast and cookie and unlabeled fruit punch for lunch and dinner. When I arrived at Bartholomew around dinner time I was treated to a cafeteria style 'hot' food tray and a hot shower ALONE. It was quite an experience, not one I plan on trying again. Walking in shackles sucks, but hearing everyone's stories of how they got there, the level of their innocence and what they plan on doing when they got out was quite intriguing. So when I hear people talk about where they were on 9/11 I have to say I was in jail....
