Cops around here traditionally call the all-night 11 to 7 shift "The Hoot Owl Shift." Chester Keene remembers this tale from these dark and mysterious hours.
A Patrolman was reporting how the windshield on his patrol car had been broken. He prefaced it by saying, "I know you're not going to believe this, Sarge, but this is exactly what happened." He had good reason to add this caveat.
Said the Patrolman: While on routine patrol, on Mooringline Drive at approximately 0300 hours, I received a call reference a prowler in the area. It was raining (drizzle) and due to the amount of street light I turned off my headlights so they wouldn't alert the prowler to my presence. I left the windshield wipers on so I could see the road, houses, etc.
All of a sudden, out of nowhere, this owl swooped down and attacked my wiper blade. It must have looked some kind of prey to him. His feet (talons) got caught between the blade and the glass. I turned my wipers on fast speed but could not get him off.
I got out of my car with my Maglite. The bird was flapping his wings, going back and forth with each beat of the wipers. I, not thinking, swung at the owl with my metal flashlight, trying to dislodge him. In doing so I broke the windshield.
The owl, now fearing for his life, his eyes as big as two softballs, pried himself free and escaped into the night. End of report.
Chester said: I considered the report, wondering how anyone--not just me but those up the chain of command who would read it--could believe this wild yarn. But, the only advice I could offer the Patrolman was, "Couldn't you just say a coconut fell on it?"
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