Sgt. C.H. Dasher was one of the nicest people you'd hope to meet. And maybe the strongest. Not a shaved, oiled, puffed-up 'roid monster from the gyms. The sloping bear-like shoulders, fence post wrist, wide body type that are born that way.
C.H. was a teacher. Taught me that simple solutions are usually best. And, the power of menacing sound.
Once, in the sixties, an angry crowd formed in the Quarters. Upset over some issue that was important at the time, it was a volatile situation: One spark could set off a riot. While we were standing around deciding how to disburse the crowd without making the situation worse, up pulls C.H.. He gets out of his car, turns on the car's P.A. system and takes out his shotgun . Placing the shotgun next to the mike, he racks the slide one time. There is no other sound like this. It says Shotgun. And that means Wide, Indiscriminate Shot Pattern. In ten seconds the street was empty.
He also had great healing powers. Bozo, a big-mouthed contractor, thought he was above the law. One evening he was D&D: Drunk and Disgusting. He wasn't going to jail, or get in the damn car, or do anything the F-ing cop wanted. Unfortunately for Bozo, the cop he as baiting was C.H. Dasher. That was his first mistake. His second was taking a swing at said officer. C.H.'s counter uppercut couldn't have traveled four inches. But it was bedtime for Bozo. You might say the punch was therapeutic. He enjoyed a restful sleep for several hours and, on waking, the A-hole was instantly cured. We never had another problem with him.
C.H. led by example. We had a dispatcher, Betty Jo, who was popular and, therefore, fair game for cop's pranks. One favorite was to lift the front of her VW over the curb, so she couldn't drive home after work. Course, after a suitable period of aggravation, two or three cops would lift it over the curb and back in place. C.H. thought enough was enough.
One evening, at shift change C.H. announced that Betty Jo's car needed to be lifted over the curb. The officers gave him questioning looks as they hadn't touched it that night. C.H. led them outside and there was the car and it was over the curb all right. But not the light front end. It was the heavy rear end, where the motor was housed that was straddling the curb. C.H. pointed to the car and said, Get busy.
The cops whined. We can't lift that. That's where the motor is. We'll need a wrecker, or something.
C.H. smiled, walked to the rear of the VW, bent and lifted it over the curb. Audible gasps could be heard.
Next time Betty Jo's car gets put over the curb, that's the way to do it, he said. rear-end first. I see it parked any other way, I'm gonna be real upset. Betty Jo's car was never lifted again.
Though long gone, in his own way C.H. is still contributing to local law enforcement. His son, like his father, is an excellent local cop.
C.H. was a teacher. Taught me that simple solutions are usually best. And, the power of menacing sound.
Once, in the sixties, an angry crowd formed in the Quarters. Upset over some issue that was important at the time, it was a volatile situation: One spark could set off a riot. While we were standing around deciding how to disburse the crowd without making the situation worse, up pulls C.H.. He gets out of his car, turns on the car's P.A. system and takes out his shotgun . Placing the shotgun next to the mike, he racks the slide one time. There is no other sound like this. It says Shotgun. And that means Wide, Indiscriminate Shot Pattern. In ten seconds the street was empty.
He also had great healing powers. Bozo, a big-mouthed contractor, thought he was above the law. One evening he was D&D: Drunk and Disgusting. He wasn't going to jail, or get in the damn car, or do anything the F-ing cop wanted. Unfortunately for Bozo, the cop he as baiting was C.H. Dasher. That was his first mistake. His second was taking a swing at said officer. C.H.'s counter uppercut couldn't have traveled four inches. But it was bedtime for Bozo. You might say the punch was therapeutic. He enjoyed a restful sleep for several hours and, on waking, the A-hole was instantly cured. We never had another problem with him.
C.H. led by example. We had a dispatcher, Betty Jo, who was popular and, therefore, fair game for cop's pranks. One favorite was to lift the front of her VW over the curb, so she couldn't drive home after work. Course, after a suitable period of aggravation, two or three cops would lift it over the curb and back in place. C.H. thought enough was enough.
One evening, at shift change C.H. announced that Betty Jo's car needed to be lifted over the curb. The officers gave him questioning looks as they hadn't touched it that night. C.H. led them outside and there was the car and it was over the curb all right. But not the light front end. It was the heavy rear end, where the motor was housed that was straddling the curb. C.H. pointed to the car and said, Get busy.
The cops whined. We can't lift that. That's where the motor is. We'll need a wrecker, or something.
C.H. smiled, walked to the rear of the VW, bent and lifted it over the curb. Audible gasps could be heard.
Next time Betty Jo's car gets put over the curb, that's the way to do it, he said. rear-end first. I see it parked any other way, I'm gonna be real upset. Betty Jo's car was never lifted again.
Though long gone, in his own way C.H. is still contributing to local law enforcement. His son, like his father, is an excellent local cop.
Mr. Young:
ReplyDeleteThank you for writing such a wonderful tribute to our father. You knew him all to well. He is truly missed and always will be. It's refreshing to know that people still remember him.
Proud Daughter of C.H. Dasher
Cynthia D. Dasher
Mr. Young:
ReplyDeleteThank you for these stories. I miss my grandfather quite a bit. It's great to hear how he affected so many lives as well as mine. If there were more people like him in the world we wouldn't need police officers. Fortunately for me and my family, my uncle, C.H.'s son followed in his foot steps. He is just as great a man and truly his father's son. Thanks again for your kind words.
Grandson of C.H. Dasher
Matthew G.Dasher Beamer
When I began my career, many people told me I had some big shoes to fill. 23 years later I am still trying. My father truly was an inspiration to me. I have to wonder though, is this the same shotgun story that earned the nickname "Frog"?
ReplyDeleteThanks Gary,
Chris Dasher #349