Lets hear them good or bad. I'll be honest and in my many years as I think about it blows my mind I didn't kill myself or somebody else or end up in jail in my younger years. I personally have never had a bad experience with law enforcement thou now looking back at it I should have and I've had several.

The latest, I was coming down a gradual hill where the speed limit drops down 10 MPH on a busy two lane highway. At the bottom there's a county sheriff coming the opposite direction. He flips around and follows me a couple of miles running my plates. The lights finally come on and since it was a spot with a wide shoulder so I pull over way far so dude doesn't have to stand in traffic. He walked up and while on the walk a call goes out on his radio that was more important then a 3 mph over the speed limit ticket.

I'd be suprised if this one gets past the first page...

Last trip to Orofino, in December, I was really moving, 11 mph over the limit. Came around a corner and found a Idaho State Patrol waiting. He turned on his lights, I pulled over. When he walked up to my truck, I told he had me dead to rights, I had no excuse except I was hurrying to get to Camp, Cabin and Home to get some line on a reel before they closed. He perked right up, we started talking about steelhead fishing, and he told me to slow down a little bit and left without even giving me a written warning.

I have quite a few stories about parties getting raided and teenagers being drug out of the house by their hair and stuffed into cop cars with a few 'accidental' collisions between foreheads and the doorjam. That was 20 years back. Gotta love small town cops.

Have a few 'good' stories too, like once where the door was answered, a cloud of grey smoke billowed out, and the cop took a step back, said "Just keep it down in there. You don't want us to have to tell you again."

That time I had to lay face down as 5 cops had their guns drawn on me was none too fun. I used to keep weird hours

One of my good stories is one time a copper pulled me over and we got to talking and he asked me to paint his fence for him

In college I interned at a police dept, I had my own cubicle and was always stuck doing paperwork. The canine cops thought it was funny to hide contraband around my desk and send their dogs in. Several times I had German Shephards ready to take me down on command.

One of my other duties while interning at the PD was to go through the evidence log and destroy evidence that was past the statute of limitations. When I was doing this I was 19 years old and still living with my parents. One day I had to go through the drug files and get rid of all the confiscated drugs and alcohol. The first case I came too involved 5 cases of stolen Schmidt beer, I had to open every can and dump it into a barrel. Next I had dozens of bags of weed and other crystal like drugs ie meth, crack, coke and whatever you can imagine. I had a burn barrel setup with a propane torch in the bottom that I used to burn everything with. When I got home that evening my parents caught a whiff of me and asked what the hell I had been doing.

We got pulled over new years morning at 430 am headin to the coast on I5 round lacey doin 86mph in a 60. The officer joked about our speed and wrote my buddy a ticket for 10 over. Didn't ask why the truck smelled like alcahol or anything about my pistol sitting on the dashboard. With 3 of us in the truck we all smelled like alcahol bad but the driver had quit drinking shortly after midnight so he was good to drive.

It ain't or was never about donuts at all. How i lame is that?

It was and is about cop bashing et al' on the internet in general.

Also a lame past time for lame people.

STFU douchebag

Fukkin donk!! Anyway,another one. We were coming up from Big Sur on highway 1 just loaded on all kinds of drugs and sheit,going like 90,and my buddy who was driving was sober. So we get pulled over and dude next to me is shoving a vial of liquid acid in his sock and about 6 ounces of some powdered substance in the other.

So the cop asks my friend "Is there some particular reason why you're going 90 in a 55?"

My buddy"Because I can?"

"Have anything to drink?"the cop asks.

My buddy in the back who was dressed in clothes he had made from deer hide shout's out "We're all fucked up officer,he's the designated driver while we're partying and [censored]!!"

I'm thinking [censored] we're fucked now. The cop just looked at all of us with hair down to our asses,pupils like saucers,and dude in deer skin clothes and says " Get the the hell out of here."

I guess he didn't want to do the paperwork and have to deal with the likes of us. Haha!

Another day in the life.

Oh ya,dude in the deer skin outfits had a hippy girlfriend who wore similar clothing. We called her "Road Kill Jill"

I worked in a Chevron station while in highschool and the St. Patrol bought their gas there and we did some work on the cars so I got to know a few of the troopers. I went in the Navy in '65 and about a month after I got out, a Navy buddy from Seattle and I went out and hit it hard. My buddy was driving. I dozed off on the way home as it was about 3:00 am. He turned off I-5, dozed off at the wheel and stopped on the ramp. We woke up with a trooper knocking on the window. My buddy had his foot on the brake so we didn't go off the road and he was asleep at the wheel. (good name for a band) The trooper recognized me, told us to get our asses home before he changed his mind and gave us a pass. Thanks to the trooper, we didn't get arrested, car was not impounded and we just had a well deserved hangover the next day. Pays to be polite to troops.

"Good evening Mr. Brood."

"Good evening Officer Hersey."

"I see your parents are out of town again."

"Yes sir. They wont be home until the end of the month."

"(sigh) Great. Well till next week you need to clear everyone out."

"Yes sir. I'll see you next Friday. Until then have a great week."

"Thanks-You too."

Any police encounters I've had were well deserved.

Rolled my truck and driftboat across the highway after falling asleep on my way to the river (worked 48 hrs straight), first cop on scene (at 2:30 am) asked, "has the fishing been good?" Second cop on scene, after chatting with first cop tells me, "you must have been going for XX spot, you gotta get there early for that" Third cop, and crew from ambulance, spend about 20 minutes going through my fishing photo album that flew out on the highway, while waiting for the tow trucks to arrive.

Never asked about drinking (wasn't anyways, but wrecking 20 minutes after the bar close usually means bad things) and no citation for reckless driving (like my buddy got for falling asleep)

The scene starts on a nice summer day in Walla Walla at the Parker Ranch. Several families getting together for a BBQ and for a day of swimming in the pool. Present are the 2 Superior Court judges for the county plus several other attorneys and their families.

The party gets uncomfortably silent when the son of the Parker Ranch rolls up in a POS 1969 Chevy pickup followed by a WSP trooper car. Lights on. The son of the Parker Ranch get's out of the truck and walks towards all the people now gathered around looking at the WSP patrol car. The WSP officer looks at who is present in the crowd of people, turns off his lights, backs his car up, and leaves.

Both judges look at me and say "What the hell did you just do?"

Roll back the clock 15 minutes earlier.........

The son of the Parker Ranch was instructed by patrons of the pool to go on a store run for various goodies, since the goodies were running low. It's a quick ride past the local high school to the store. The High School was out on this weekday (Teacher's Day, or some crap like that) so the streets past the school were empty.

As the boy drove his 1969 Chevy pickup past the school, he noticed a WSP troopers car parked in the High School parking lot with the trooper using radar on the passing motorists. As soon as the young man had a line of sight on the WSP officer, he could see the officer frantically putting away the radar gun, getting in the car, and turning on the lights. As he passed the WSP car, the officer was already mentioning the drive to pull over. So, he did and the WSP officer quickly pulled up, got out of his car with citation book in hand, and marched over to the drivers side window. The conversation went something like this:

WSP Officer: "DO YOU KNOW HOW FAST YOU WERE DRIVING?", the tone of voice from the officer was less than pleasant and quite authoritative.

Parker: "Yes. 30 MPH. That's the posted speed limit on this street."

WSP Officer: "This is a SCHOOL ZONE and the speed limit in a SCHOOL ZONE is 20 MP, MONDAY THROUGH FRIDAY!"

Parker: "Ok. But, there is no school today."

WSP Officer: "MONDAY THROUGH FRIDAY! I'm going to issue you a citation for driving 30 MPH in a 20 MPH School Zone. License and Registration, please."

Parker: "WHY? WHAT? There's no school today!"

WSP Officer: "The sign states 20MPH, MONDAY THROUGH FRIDAY!"

Parker: "What a crock. This sucks. Oh well, gimme the ticket and I'll just have it nulled by the judges at my house now."

The WSP Officer just about had a cow at this point. I honestly think he wanted to shoot me, as he must have thought I was just another snot-nosed cocky kid - to which I was!

WSP Officer: "What did you just say?"

Parker: "I said both judges are at my house now. Let's go talk to them about this, or I'll just have them toss the ticket when I get home. I do not believe that I am doing anything wrong and I do not believe that I warrant this ticket for driving 30 MPH in a 30 MPH zone on a non-school day."

The WSP Officer got really red in the face, got really serious, and said something on the lines of:

WSP Officer: Sure. I'll follow you to your house house and we can go talk to the judge if you want. Rest assured, I will be taking you in to custody for..... (I don't recall what he said, but I did know that I wasn't going to back down at this point)

So, after telling the officer that I only lived less than a mile away, off we went. Me first, with him in tow, lights on the whole way home.

Guess he must have recognized the two judges when I got home and decided that being an asshole wasn't going to work on this day.

Meanwhile, back at The Ranch, both judges laughed when they heard the story and said that of all the area WSP officers, this guy was the biggest asshat tool of them all - especially to teenage drivers. They both were disappointed that they didn't get the chance to chew on this troopers ass.

we were up on football hill one fine, warm, saturday night cracking open some beers (all of us still in high school at the time) when a set of headlights blinds us.

the first voice says "stop where you are and don't throw the bottles."

second voice says " get out your i.d.'s"

first voice comes over, asks who the driver is, and everyone points at me. Officer Cox introduces himself to me, asks if we have any more beer than what we have in hand. i tell him the rest of the case is in trunk. he says "good job for keeping it locked up - please open the trunk."

i open the trunk, he counts four beers missing from the case and five guys - i haven't had a chance to get a beer yet. Officer Cox looks at me with his flashlight in my face, looks back at the car, looks back at me, then says "Hey! I know you! I live across the street from you! Tell you what neighbor, dump out the open beers, pick up your bottle caps, and don't hit me in the ass on the way out of here."

he never said a word to my parents, just always smiled and waved from his front yard. it really is better to be lucky than good.

Too many to list.Good luck,
STRIKE ZONE

cop o'ding

Cop tazers himself

dumb cop

Speaks volumes.

You import your own emoticons and call other people lame? It's also gay, by the way. YAY!

No you don't. Douchebag.

I've paid a grand total of $23 into the traffic ticket piggy bank....in my entire life.

And THAT is undeniably the result of some very forgiving cops and judges.

Not bad for a sober alcoholic......seems somebody wants me around because I'd have been dead a long time ago. Go figure.

lol

i don't have too many negative cop stories, other than when i was 13, and fishing at a little lake down the street from where i lived. it was a week before the "general" lake opener(this is a year round lake) and i had one of lacey's finest come down and tell me i had to pack up my gear and go home because it was closed. he was a real dick about it too. that one still pisses me off...especially since my dad called up the lacey PD and they said they had no jurisdiction over such matters.

i've never been arrested, or even gotten a ticket(outside of parking tickets at SPSCC). been pulled over 3 times in 9 years of driving...got nailed coming down the hill into cosmopolis a few months back, 49 in a 35, and the guy let me go. karma, i guess...

I had just flown back to North Carolina from Seattle after having gotten married on my spring break. I'm with my new wife in the middle of BFE, prolly half way between Raliegh and the coast, heading to a house on the water for our honeymoon...its about 3 in the morning...prolly doing somewhere between 80 and 90. I get pulled over by a good old boy:

Redneck NC cop: What's the hurry?
Wife (sounding bubbly): Oh we just got married (she shows him the ring) and we just got back in town and we are so excited to start our honeymoon that we decided to head to the coast tonight rather than wait until tomorrow.
Redneck NC cop: I see you have Washington plates, what are you doing in Carolina?
SciGuy: We moved here recently for school...this is my Spring Break.
Redneck NC cop: Is that so? Well, where exactly do you go to school?
SciGuy: UNC
Redneck NC cop: OK! Good! I'm going to let you off with a warning. Had you said "DUKE" I would have written you a ticket. Ha! You kids take care now, ya here?
SciGuy: Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir. Have a good day, Sir.

The moral of the story is:



...and...

The time - January 1978, the place - Colorado. I had been visiting friends in Durango and was hitchhiking back to Leadville to meet another friend who would take me to the airport in Denver the next day. My ride dropped me off about 3 miles South of Buena Vista. It was dark, cold, and snowing. I am walking up the right side of the road with my thumb out when a car stops about 100 feet behind me. I start walking back and am confronted by 2 Colorado State Troopers with their guns drawn! I stop (even as a young man, I was pretty savvy). They check my ID, ask me a few questions, tell me that if I want to walk I need to be on the left side of the road, if I want to hitch on the right side, I would need to stand still. I did not let them know that I would turn into a popsicle if I didn't keep moving! I asked them to give me a ride to Buena Vista (you don't get if you don't ask!) and they declined. I then said, "Guys, you scared me damn near to death, why did you draw your guns on me?" Their reply - "We figured that the only person STUPID enough to be hitchiking in these conditions was Ted Bundy!" He had escaped from the Glenwood Springs jail the week before.

How about taking a short cut through an alley, yes I had been drinking and wasn't 21, when screech a cop car blocks the entrance to the alley in front of me and roar screech another from behind. Then two more cars. They slam me up against the car...handcuff me, frisk me, put me in the back then start searching one of the two buildings for a "reported" break in while another calls me in for what nots. No break in and spotless record so they let me go. Kind of surreal.....one moment walking, all hell breaks loose, let you go and dissapear, then your walking again.

My buddy was home on leave from Ft. Bragg, and while he was home he bought a late 90's 3 series BMW. All black with dark tinted windows. I road tripped it with him back down to NC from here taking shifts driving so that we could make it straight through. I was asleep as we were going through South Dakota, and at 3am my buddy wakes me up, "Hey, wake up man, I'm getting pulled over. I might have been speeding." We get pulled over to the side of the freeway, and as soon as the police officer opens his door, we hear the tell tale, "I want to eat your face off" bark of a German Shepard. We were totally clean of course, but the officer came to the door and immediately separated us pulling my buddy out of the car and telling me to "sit tight." Five minutes go by and he comes over to ask me where we're coming from, what we're doing, where we're going, etc. He leaves, my buddy gets back in the car and we were a couple a high fivin' white guys - he got a warning telling him to slow down. Must have looked kinda weird to have a blacked out beemer doing 95 down the freeway with WA plates at 3am. Even though we had nothing to worry about other than the speeding, the dog sure scared the [censored] out of me.

Another story involving one of the two superior court judges mentioned above and the WDFW.

The judge owned a nice large chunk of property on the local river that I used to fish quite a bit. After fishing on his private property and catching/release quite a few fish, I stopped by the house to let him know that there were some fish down there. I knew that this judge had never caught a steelhead, so I figured I'd show him the ropes down there.

He get's all excited, grabs his yeller Eagle Claw rod and coffee grinder reel and away we go. We get down to the river and rig up his rod with a some bait under a Flow-At. Steelhead are porpoising all over the slush so I know this won't take too long. I pointed at where he should cast, instructed him to freespool his coffee grinder and set the hook when the Flow-At went under the water.

Took all of about 2.3 seconds after his cast until his Flow-At just shot under water. Fish on! His first steelhead. A nice fish about 10 pounds comes quickly to the shore, where before I realize what is about to happen, he pounces on the fish and bonks it on the head with a rock. No biggie...except that it was a WILD fish....and wild fish were not legal to keep on this river at this time during this particular year.

Uh....... Crap. Didn't see that one coming.

I politely tell this judge that one is not allowed to keep unclipped wild fish. He promptly ignores me and casts back out the half-bat that was left over and pulled out of this dead fishes mouth.

Another 3.4 seconds later, Flow-At down, fish in, and killed under my protest.

As a high schooler, I wasn't about to tell a judge what the laws were, so I left it at that. He took his two fish home and he was as proud as anyone I've ever seen on the river.

Time goes by........a couple of months.

I'm fishing with my buddy and I hook and land a small hatchery steelhead. Nice little chrome fish (for that time of year), but I didn't want it and was going to release it. Held it for the Grip-N-Grin and the fish leapt out of my hands and straight in to the sand. Not cool. To make it worse, as we were trying to wrestle this land-locked flopping hatchery fish, my buddy accidently kicked it in the head during the scuffle. Dead fish.

Oh well, no worries. I'll just punch the fish. I go to grab the pen that I always had tied on to a string to my vest to punch my card, and notice that the pen is gone. Crap. I try using the end of a slinky to write on the card. Yeah, as if. Oh well. I tried to punch the fish and didn't think anything of it past that.

We eventually left that area and went up river where we ran in to our high school teacher. He asked me how we were doing and I said that I had one in the truck and off we went fishing. Coming back to the truck a few hours later, I notice two officers standing next to my truck. Two WDFW officers. One of them is /was the eventual head of the WDFW Enforcement.

I instantly realize that I didn't punch my fish, but since I have nothing to write with, I just accept my fate.....

Anyways, as I get there, the junior guys asks/tells me: "Got any fish in the truck?" I instantly realize that he's been talking to my teacher, as he's trying to get me to say "no". I say "yes", but then tell him that I didn't punch the fish because my pen fell off of the string on my vest and show him the string with the loop on it.

Apparently, that doesn't mean crap, as they pull out the fish and measure the dorsal fin to verify that it was a hatchery fish. Back in the day, the dorsal fin on an unclipped fish had to be greater than this white card that the WDFW issued in order for it to be "wild". Fortunately for me, the fin was about 2mm under the card, so it was *just* a hatchery fish.

Anyways, the officers ask to search my truck, which I let them do.

Junior Dillhole looks everywhere and in searching behind and underneath my seat, pulls out a half-used golf pencil and asks me what that was and why I didn't use it to punch the fish.

I politely tell him that I'm on the high school varsity golf team, that it was a lost golf pencil and that I obviously didn't look under my damn seat for lost pencils to mark my fish with. He then proceeded to lecture me about how I could have used some pencil lead to mark the card with and I told him I was using a slinky and not hard lead. Next came the "use the tip of a hook to mark you card", followed by you name it. I was doomed.

The senior guy then gave me the lecture of: "I know you and your buddy catch a lot of fish. You only have X marked. Either you are lying to us that you don't keep a lot of fish, or you are poachers that finally got caught not punching fish."

I always punched (and still do) my fish. Bastards. I was pissed.

End result was a $105 citation for not punching a hatchery fish.

So, the next day, I go in to see the judge mentioned above. I walk in to his office with the citation in hand, and he just looks up and says "What did do now?"

I told him my story.

Citation got dropped but I had to pay a $5 "processing" fee.

I have had about all of them. Good and bad and interesting. Worst one was about 15 years ago. My brother and I had taken out a boat owned by my dads business and failed to see that the trailer tabs had expired until that night. We were heading from tacoma to his place in Purdy. I was hauling the boat with a beat up pick up while he was following me in a used pontiac firebird he had just bought. He warned me that a few weeks ago he had a run in with a state trooper that pulled his 65 mustang over at 2 am for excessive exhaust. When he pointed out that the officers car was kicking out more, the officer lost it. He warned me he definitely did not want to run into him agian. Well, fate has it that the officer and a trainee pull me over for the tabs. My brother stops behind me and immediately all attention is on him. The officer leaves me behind and starts going over my brothers car with a fine tooth, finally writing me a small ticket for the tabs and my brother one twice as steep because he claimed he could see a tread bar one tire. Didn't matter that my truck was litterally falling apart with defective turn signals, bald tires, and headlights that would flicker on an off. My brother was so pissed of he stated he would refuse to sign the ticket and would like to be transported to the station so he could deal with the sargent in charge. At that, the officer swung him around, shoved the night stick up against the back of his neck and then looked over at me and said, "Wow, is your brother stupid. It's a long way to the station. If you love him, I suggest you start begging him to sign this ticket." I have no doubt he was serious and started to beg. In the end he signed the ticket. We filed a complaint and they actually had a formal hearing, but I don't think they ever told us the outcome.

One of the more interesting involves Deputy Mundell, who just died. His mom and My dad were great freinds, so I knew who he was by name, but that was it. Well, one day I went to check on a house were buying. As I pull up, Mundell is getting up off the ground and then pulls up a handcuffed guy. Seems a neighbor saw something and called it in. When Mundell walked up to the house the guy ran out and did a flying tackle at him. Mundell had caught him mid-air, swung him around and pinned him. At his memorial they kept saying he was a magnet for stuff. Guess it was true.

After high school graduation, having never gone hardly anywhere, my buddy and I decided we'd drive down to CA, visit San Francisco, Fisherman's Wharf, Haight-Ashbury, the Boardwalk at Santa Cruz, and Monterey. So we did, camping illegally wherever we found ourselves, discovering that while the sun and beach sand were hot, the ocean was cold. I mean it's California, shouldn't the ocean be warm? Oh well, . . .

On the return trip we got off course, and must have been around Sacramento and were at a stoplight in a little town called Auburn. The Pontiac GTO in front of us had 4 teenage boys, not that that had anything to do with us. But at the green light they took off burning rubber, accelerating like they were drag racing. My buddy was driving and sped up also, not that the other car had anything to do with us. Just that we were 18, and the only reason for driving 80 mph was if conditions weren't suited to going 90, or more.

Mostly I was reading the map, looking to get us back on route, when I looked up ahead and over the slight hill crest saw a huge dust cloud and flying toothpicks. As we crested the hill, we could see that the GTO had gone off pavement on the right, over-corrected and flew off the road on the left, striking and breaking a utility pole nearly 10 feet above ground level. This was an ugly scene. My buddy thought we should leave, so we did, as other cars stopped, and other people seemed to have a better idea about what to do. After we left, I thought we should return because we were nearly eye witnesses, and maybe the police would want to talk with us. OK, so I wasn't the brightest hillbilly from south county.

We drove back to the scene of the accident, and everything proceeded to go downhill. The driver of another car reported that we had been racing the wrecked car because both our car and the GTO had passed him going over 100 mph. At 18 I was more than slightly sarcastic. I asked the driver how he could possibly know we were going over 100 mph unless he was going 100 mph, at which point the country deputy separated the other driver, me, and my buddy.

Apparently all this mattered because at least in those days, if two cars were racing and there was an accident involving only one, the drivers of both vehicles could be held responsible. We didn't know this at the time. And one of the other 4 kids died, and one other looked like he might not make it. And the deputies didn't know that it was perfectly normal for me to study a map and not pay attention to our speed as we cruised along over 90 mph, therefore being able to truthfully say I had no idea how fast we were going. And I wasn't going to mention that.

So we visited the county jail in the little town of Auburn, me driving my buddy's car following the deputies, and were interviewed, interrogated, but not waterboarded, and eventually the local district attorney came in after hours to visit us tourists and talk more with us. One of the deputies commented to me about my attitude toward the situation, and I replied I had serious attitude issues with being wrongly accused. I told him we were just tourists trying to find the right road back home, that I really didn't know how fast my buddy was driving, that I wasn't about to speculate on it either, since it didn't appear to be in our interest to do so. They gave us a hard time, because the circumstantial evidence could be interpreted as two cars with teenage drivers racing. But in the end, the DA decided we didn't need to stay the night in their jail and could leave, which we did.

As my buddy backed up his car to leave, I said we should probably wait until we were out of the jail parking lot before getting a couple well-deserved beers out of the trunk that they never asked to search.

The story didn't end because even after getting back home, weeks and months later, I was subpeoned to testify locally at my buddy's dad's attorney's office about the accident. I guess I was a hostile witness because I thought they were still trying to pin something on us, but I think there was a criminal and civil trial and lawsuit of the GTO driver.


My next police experience was with local county deputies and had a much happier ending. The next autumn four of us turned 19 and decided to have a kegger b'day party one friday night. We were getting things set up at the gravel pit as other friends drove back into town to bring more kids to the party. We got the keg pumping smoothly and sang a few traditional drinking songs. Then after a couple small beers I got in my car to drive out the railroad access road to go pick up my GF when a county mountie car drove in lights ablazin' and telling me to stay in my car, and my friends to not move. While they were putting the four of us and the confiscated keg in the back of the patrol car (yeah, quite funny) the kids who'd gone to town came back and started down the dirt road, saw the patrol car and reversed out of there, but for a friend who'd been riding on the hood of the lead car ran off across the field to the house of a good farmer friend.

Anyway we were questioned about the source of the keg, to which I replied that it doesn't matter -- Oh you tell us where you got it and it'll go a lot easier on you guys -- and on and on, so I asked if they had any cups or something so we could drink as much of the keg as possible before we got to the jail, since it was sitting in our laps. So we get to the jail, and the keg is sequestered for some upcomming deputy party we think, and we all get fingerprinted and now have criminal records to go with our high school diplomas, SAT scores, and basketball trophy, etc. Fortunately is was pay day, and between us we came up with the $25 bail apiece, and were allowed to leave.

However, my car was still out at the gravel pit. And my GF was at the high school waiting for me to pick her up, and I was very late. And by coincidence a deputy on the radio talking with the deputy at the jail drove by my GF and asked what she was doing (the event she'd been there for was long over). So I told the deputy to tell the other deputy to tell my GF what happened, so she walked downtown from the school and called her dad, and she and he drove to the county jail to pick me up. I thought this was gonna' be the end of going out with this girl, but her dad was really cool and said if this was the worst trouble I ever got it, things were gonna' be all right. I knew I liked her dad. And things were all right. But most of that keg of beer was enjoyed by someone other than the birthday boys.

Sg

Let's see....

Do you want to hear about blowing up the ex nextdoor neighbor's mail box two nights in a row, the numerous speeding tickets that turned into warnings, the only time I pulled a gun as a civilian on another human and was asked by the cops, "why didn't you shoot the asshole?", the time myself and two other deputies had a Ruger SP101 (in .357 Mag) pulled on us as we went to help a guy who caught a small pet carrier upside the head, the time the WSP "piited" a scumball tweaker off the raod in fron of our current house, when said scumball's dad came back looking for drugs a month and a half later, or......?

Honestly, I've ad more good experiences with officers than bad, and as many have stated, every negative one was most certainly my fault.

Best 'good' story:

About 1991ish Myself a couple highschool friends and our girlfriends decide to head out to Grayland beach with some sleeping bags and what must've been a case of Boone's Stawberry Hill. It was our teenage girl panty remover. So we get to the beach, park our late '70's toyota schitboxes nearby set up shop in the dunes, build a beach fire and start getting cozy.
Everything's going great, playing tonsil tennis with my new GF by the fireside, when the cream of the Twin Harbors crop come tearing up the beach in their life-size Hot Wheels truck. KC lights, 12" lift, glasspacks, and a bed full of toothless morons hoopin' & hollering and spraying everything in sight with .22 fire. All 6 of us bailed over the dune as the bullets kicked up sandaround our fire, and the Hillbillies did a few doughnuts on the beach in front of our spot and then took off.
So after awhile we saw the coast was clear, shook the sand off our blankets and went back to drinking around the fire.
Everything's quiet for the next hour or so and the adrenaline's wearing off, when--

"Good Evening!"

Up behind us out of the dunes steps an older looking cop. We all stuff our Boones bottles under our blankets.

"You kids been shooting guns out here?"

"No Officer!"

We relay him the story of the Night of the Living Rednecks

"Yeah, that sounds about like what I was told. Where you kid's from?"

He then proceeded to come sit down by our fire and talk with us for a good hour.

Turns out he was THE Pacific County Sheriff. Stars on the collar & everything.

He told us about a vacant beach house the renters had abandoned a puppy in. Told us Pacific County had no Animal Services and that he had to go out in the morning and shoot the poor thing. Asked us all repeatedly to adopt the thing, but all of our dads would've hided us for bring home another pet. Told us how Pacific County's so broke they only had him & two other full time deputies and one reservist for emergencies or something like that. Had a good long talk with the guy and it was a stark contrast from the Police we were used to. It was like growing up used to the LAPD and then meeting Andy Griffiths.
After he finally left no one said a word for a long time. Then I pulled my Boones bottle out from under my blanket and and drew a deep breath. All my friends did the same. We stayed up to watch the sun rise then we headed home. I never made it past 2nd base with that girl. I heard she married some abusive jerk, got slapped around, then turned Lezbo.


I always wondered what happened to that Sheriff. I hope he's enjoying a long retirement and hasn't had to put any more strays down.

excluding the [censored] heads in family that are leo

in issaquah's past circa the 70's
cops i knew as a kid
mott= a arrogant but straight up dude
keith moon= a good guy who wanted to correct all of our paths
andersen?= cant remember if it was gary or barry as they were brothers
one sold out pot dealers in high school and the other one busted them
the cop andersen would give the younger bro the goods to resell in the highschool
now he is the renton city cheif?
anyway, if you doubt my recollections?
do a search, it's all true
at this point i have a bad taste regarding leo
goinfishin is a great ambassador changing my negative opinions though
a good man he is
some do remember "protect and serve"

Wow, after reading all of these accounts, I guess I gotta get out more

Just throw more parties!

Deezamn! Epic even for sure! The way things are with social media, I wonder what would happen if someone tried something like that nowadays (I assume your party was before the days of internet?)?

I assume it was before the days of radio....

I've had no encounters with the fuzz, ever...and anyone who says otherwise is a damn liar, 'specially if they went to college with me!

Fish on...

Todd

Sound's Like we are from the same time zone Good friend was one who got busted by said sting. Funny story he walked many mile's home from a party cop's picked him up just as he arrived home on his birthday. Draveling I think was the cop.Chinese Place ???

KK,

To sad! I attended Sky River III, which wasn't at Sky River due to, those guys upstairs you mentioned. Best thing I could imagine this side of Woodstock, which was that same summer.

I've lately been attending a mini-rock festival called Maltby, which is no longer at Maltby for various good reasons. No famous acts, but fun 60s garage bands, and only 6 kegs of beer, plus whatever else people bring, and a pit-roasted whole pig.

Good times.

Sg

Anyone party at "Beer bottle beach" on the Green river in Kent ? Attended lots of keggers in the late 70's early 80's.

For sure that was him
77 Dang that makes me feel old !!!.

Yup

This is like a reunion or something.

except I am trying to figure who you guy's are.

You guys are old. I was in 6th grade in 1977. Crap, I bet mini-Fly wasn't even born yet.

So what do you guys like better, the Hoveround or the Rascal electric scooters?

All you sum bitches smell like weed. Dudes to the right and girls over here for search Fat chicks are free to go.

Driftboat suits me just fine.
Have not made a decision on the scooter just yet.

sounds like some of you characters are from my old stomping grounds
i gradumacated from hissy squaw in 77
had a black 70 cuda with a 440 6 pack when i cruised the renton loop
sure had a lot of fun with that car but never got laid because of it?
must of been a true dork i suppose
beer bottle beach was on the cedar river that i recall but i'm sure thats like a lost lake in the local name thing

hatched in 89 abu? thats good, need someone with more energy then i to rake my leaves

police encounters?: similar to alien encounters i've learned
not typically a good thing

lmao
nope
never did any of those reunion things
i was probably sitting on my arse drinking beers typing on the internet instead
are you for real on the 77 thing?
if so? small world

Sophmore year in high school a buddy and I were stoked to go see Pearl Jam I think it was like three shows they were playing in Seattle Decebmber 7,8,9,. Our parents, gave us both the be careful be on your best behavior speech. Well we had a taste for the best beer on earth, "Schmidts" so we figured we would just bring a few along for the trip. We scored tix for the 1st and last nights of the 3 shows. First show we skipped last two classes of the day and drank beers at buddies place and took off around 5pm for the show. I was rollin up I5 at a steady 80mph when my buddy goes "Jack you just passed a cop and he's pulling out with his lights on." I slowed down and tried to think what to do with the beer in my lap, the two in the cup holder, the half rack at my feet and pretty much the same lineup for my buddy in the passenger seat, but add a 1/4 of some really stinky weed and his not so tiny bubbler. I froze and did nada as I was pulling over to the side of the road. I remember just staring into my mirror as the cop approached the car and about 5 yards from us he sprinted back to the car and took off. Silence..... THEN "Jack get the fauk out of here man, go go go go." I got back in traffic and got off on mercer and we went straight to the McDonalds by Mercer Arena (I think it was called) and got large waters and replaced the fine h20 with Big winter buck Schmidts. Show was awesome, the last night I think Eddie smashed a hole in the stage with his mic stand and crawled down that as an exit. Good times, bad bad decisions, lucky bastards we were. Took me a bit to wise up on the drinknig and driving but by the end of that year, I was usually the dd, and to this day don't risk my life or others by acting like a bafoon. BTW, Some of the best shows I have seen came out of that arena. Bad ass place. Great venue for this little band outta Texas to come rock. I think they were called Pantera!

KK- Talking good times. Putting on keggers at the dip, the cars would be lined up both sides of Coal Creek Parkway. The rope swing at lake Boren, happy vally road the wound into the town of Newcastle. The coal mines along the old road up to the landfill. The upper and lower Nike sites. "Old Baldy" at the top of Cougar Mountian.

My good friend Betty Nelson (RIP) hosted the original Sky River. I didn't attend it because I hadn't moved to Washington State yet. Her son Ward played in a band I managed and we would talk about it often. Several years back there was a huge (2 full pages) article in the Sunday Seattle Times, or PI about Betty, Sky River and her Art. Woodstock and Sky River set the bars for what's now considered unreachable heights. The so called bigwigs you mention were probably the clueless, racist, hippie hate'n, "Easy Rider" type rednecks that thought smoking Pot was dangerous and evil.