As mentioned before, Fast Freddy operated an auto body shop, along with his job on the NPD. He could be shrewd and industrious, and while the rest of us were living in modest Brookside Village, he lived in expensive Pine Ridge.
Fred's body shop skills were fantastic. He was particularly good at taking two or three wrecks and turning them into one beautiful car. I once helped him do this with a Corvette that had been crushed in a wreck. Fred bought two more wrecks and soon his wife was driving a cherry Vette.
I asked Fred where he'd learned how to do this work. He said, "Working in auto theft chop shops in Chicago, before I became a cop." Then he gave me a little Fred grin. I never knew if he was kidding me or not. And it was usually better not to dig too deeply.
Inquired once why he left the Chicago PD. He said he couldn't save up enough money to make Sergeant. Money? What? Yeah you had to pay the Lieutenant and it was just too expensive. I thought that was a joke until we hired another cop from there and he said the same thing. Rank was for sale. Who knows, but that's an odd coincidence, two guys, same story.
After a big storm once, Fred was elated. He'd found a Chris-Craft cabin cruiser that'd sunk at a private dock and he could buy it el cheapo. Fred had always longed for a Chris-Craft and he jumped on the deal like Porky on a double-cheese pizza.
He spent hours water-pumping the vessel to float it and flushing the engine with kerosene to prevent the salt water from seizing it up. Finally, with it on the surface and Fred totally exhausted, he went home at about 3 AM. He returned the next morning to find the cruiser again on the bottom. He'd forgotten to put in the drain plugs.
Fast Freddy was a little too fast for our small berg and finally the NPD made him an offer he couldn't refuse: they'd quit paying him if he'd quit coming to work. He moved on to the Ft. Lauderdale PD. A buddy of mine, George Huffman, was concurrently on the FLPD with Fred. We heard that Fred was soon up to his old tricks and George confirmed it.
George said Fred moved the Chris-Craft to Lauderdale with him and stowed it on a side street, outside a shop he was renting. (He was living there because he maintained his home in Pine Ridge, and drove back to Naples on his days off. He kept this schedule for many years)
Soon Fred's living on the street-docked Chris-Craft was the source of complaints to the city, it being illegal and unsightly. When the cops came to check out the complaint, they found a clothes line strung the length of the vessel, from mast to rails, festooned with Ft Lauderdale police uniforms. Seems it was wash day. Fred moved on to another agency shortly thereafter.
At least one other time he tried to launch the Chris-Craft in the briny deep. Again the boat sank. Fred'd forgotten to put the drain plugs in again.
In part three we'll see where he ended up. You ain't gonna believe it.
Fred's body shop skills were fantastic. He was particularly good at taking two or three wrecks and turning them into one beautiful car. I once helped him do this with a Corvette that had been crushed in a wreck. Fred bought two more wrecks and soon his wife was driving a cherry Vette.
I asked Fred where he'd learned how to do this work. He said, "Working in auto theft chop shops in Chicago, before I became a cop." Then he gave me a little Fred grin. I never knew if he was kidding me or not. And it was usually better not to dig too deeply.
Inquired once why he left the Chicago PD. He said he couldn't save up enough money to make Sergeant. Money? What? Yeah you had to pay the Lieutenant and it was just too expensive. I thought that was a joke until we hired another cop from there and he said the same thing. Rank was for sale. Who knows, but that's an odd coincidence, two guys, same story.
After a big storm once, Fred was elated. He'd found a Chris-Craft cabin cruiser that'd sunk at a private dock and he could buy it el cheapo. Fred had always longed for a Chris-Craft and he jumped on the deal like Porky on a double-cheese pizza.
He spent hours water-pumping the vessel to float it and flushing the engine with kerosene to prevent the salt water from seizing it up. Finally, with it on the surface and Fred totally exhausted, he went home at about 3 AM. He returned the next morning to find the cruiser again on the bottom. He'd forgotten to put in the drain plugs.
Fast Freddy was a little too fast for our small berg and finally the NPD made him an offer he couldn't refuse: they'd quit paying him if he'd quit coming to work. He moved on to the Ft. Lauderdale PD. A buddy of mine, George Huffman, was concurrently on the FLPD with Fred. We heard that Fred was soon up to his old tricks and George confirmed it.
George said Fred moved the Chris-Craft to Lauderdale with him and stowed it on a side street, outside a shop he was renting. (He was living there because he maintained his home in Pine Ridge, and drove back to Naples on his days off. He kept this schedule for many years)
Soon Fred's living on the street-docked Chris-Craft was the source of complaints to the city, it being illegal and unsightly. When the cops came to check out the complaint, they found a clothes line strung the length of the vessel, from mast to rails, festooned with Ft Lauderdale police uniforms. Seems it was wash day. Fred moved on to another agency shortly thereafter.
At least one other time he tried to launch the Chris-Craft in the briny deep. Again the boat sank. Fred'd forgotten to put the drain plugs in again.
In part three we'll see where he ended up. You ain't gonna believe it.
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