DIVINE INTERVENTION

 Reverend Walter Lauster wasn't my preacher. I wasn't a member of The Church of God, on 10th Street North, of which he was the minister. Not a member of any church for that matter. Fact was, my relatives in West Virginia would've called me a backslider. Don't know if the good reverend knew that as he never asked my religious affiliation or anything about my beliefs, if any. That's one of the things I admired about him.

 Our only dealings were tied to the police business--answering calls at or about his church. We did get an occasional call from neighbors about what they perceived to be an over- enthusiastic church service. I'm told Rev Lauster could shovel the fire and brimstone with great vigor but have no personal knowledge of it. I always found him to be a straight-forward gent who didn't try to save the world but might've been able to if he set his mind to it.

 Those were the circumstances of our relationship. So I was mildly surprised when he showed up at my office, shorty after I was appointed Chief of Police, concerning a personal matter. He came right in, we shook hands, and he gave me my instructions. "Chief," he said, "we're going to kneel down and pray. I'll do the talking, you just listen."

 I was really surprised by then and my face had to have shown it.

 "Come on over here and kneel down," he commanded. "You may not realize it yet, but with the job you have you're gonna need some help." And his manner was such I did what he said.

 Turns out, he was right. And every few months, usually when I needed help the most, he'd seem to know, show up, and give me a "booster" prayer. I never questioned his visits. They just seemed a natural thing, like taking a handful of aspirins when you have a headache. Or a cool breeze when it's too damn hot.

 Hope he knew how much he helped me.
Ray Barnett reminded me that I wasn't the only one he helped. "He helped a lot of cops and criminals and did it anonymously. He really practiced what he preached."

LUXURY PATROL CARS

  For a time, Ford owned a test track in Golden Gate. (Now owned by Harley-Davidson) It had a huge, paved, track and several shop-type buildings--the complete deal. And the Sheriff's Office was a grand benefactor.

 Ford was looking for someone who could put miles on their proposed models and engines under rigorous conditions. Since no cars are more put to the test than police vehicles, we were a perfect match. So, they'd give us vehicles to test and we put them on patrol. It was a great deal for the taxpayers, but there were some odd caveats.

 On some, we weren't allowed to lift the hood, look at the engine. Others, a Ford rep would supervise oil changes, maintenance, etc. The rules were understandable since Ford was trying to keep this info secret from competitors.

 And, some folks would see vehicles with shape altering appendages driving on the streets of the Elephant's Graveyard. They were just another proposed model with a new look Ford was trying to hide.

  Aside from the free vehicles, we got to test some unusual ones. Years ago, we tested total electric Ford Rangers. We had these pickups for several years. Everyone loved them. They would out-drag any police car and were quiet as a muffled mouse. It makes you wonder what the big deal is on getting them on the market now.

  Sometimes, Ford's benevolence caused unforeseen problems. Once, Ford delivered five new vehicles for us to test. They were big and they were beautiful. And comfy? They should have been, they were Lincolns. Problem was, as soon as they hit the street with Sheriff's markings the phone started ringing. No damn wonder are taxes are so high, driving Lincolns for patrol cars.

 It took a little explaining on that one.

CONVOLUTED LOGIC

 Ray Barnett, my detective partner at the time, and I had a problem. A merchant on 5th Ave South was boosting profits with a bookie operation. Generally, since it wasn't a crime of violence, we put moral crimes low on the priority list. But, this guy was operating so blatantly, he was probably going to take out an ad in the Yellow Pages next. So, since he was uncool about it, we decided to ice him down. And that presented a problem.

 The hurdle was that much of these operations are by phone and we had no bugging equipment. Stuff like that was out of our budget range. So we improvised, and rigged a common portable voice-activated tape recorder to tap the store's telephone lines, hiding the recorder in the store's overhead, drop ceiling. (Don't ask how we got in the store to do it)

 Since there was no way to monitor the recorder, we'd go back each night and see what'd been captured on the tapes. One evening we listened to an interesting conversation between the owner and his wife. It went like this:

 Wife: "I'm worried about the gambling thing, taking bets. We could get caught, put in jail."

 Bookie: "I tol' you not to worry, the cops ain't gonna bother us."

 Wife: "Why not? It's against the law."

 Bookie: "True, but the cops know you can't stop people from gambling, and whoring, and takin' dope. So it's low priority. Besides, if we don't do it the Mafia will. Don't you think they'd rather have decent folks like us be the bookies, than some crooked Mafia thugs?"

 Ray and I laughed, then looked at each other, realizing he was absolutely right.

JUDGE JUDY

  Don't know how long Judge Judy has lived in Naples but she does. Some of the cops have met her and say she's a sweetheart, not like the tough judge with the smart mouth on TV. I never watched Judge Judy until retirement, and she was one of about fifty that permeate daytime TV--the court shows and those personal injury attorneys trying to get folks to sue everyone. No damn wonder health and insurance care is so expensive.

 Howsumever, if you watch Her Honor a few times you'll see why she's number one. Judge Judy is the antithesis of political correctness. She says the things we would all like to say and to the folks who need to hear it. She calls it the way she see it. As an example.
  To a man who'd been collecting disability for ten years for a bad back and yet had a furniture moving business. You are a thief, a scammer. You should be in jail. And to his wife when she tried to intercede, You're a thief too, you knew about it.
 Then to a stay at home dad who'd been on public assistance for as long as he could remember. You're a lazy bum who produces children we have to pay for. You should get another hobby.
  And to a young couple who moved out of their apartment after trashing it and leaving it filthy with rotting bags of garbage. You're not even human. An animal wouldn't live like that. And it's not that you don't have the time to clean up. Neither of you work, and we're paying for you to be slobs.
 One of the great things about being a cop was you could tell it like it was, too. Or, at one time you could.

THE HIGH COST OF VOTE BUYING

  Watching all the election shenanigans makes you wonder why someone would spend $120 million, of their own money, for a job that pays a couple-hundred thousand. And who is contributing all that money for candidates and causes.

 Working on the Sheriff's Department up in Foggy Bottom, Tennessee I got the answers real quick. Old Foggy was a dry county, no hard liquor. You couldn't go into a friendly bar and get a quick snort. And just about every election there was an amendment to do away with that stupidity. And it always failed. Why? Cause there were huge dollars spent to insure that it did.

 Most of this money was put up by the churches. Understandable. One could see why hard shells would be against imbibing the evil brew. But the churches did really put up the money. The money was given to them by the bootleggers.

 Since we dumped prohibition, you can hardy find a bootlegger anywhere. Except communities that never got the word that prohibition didn't work and is over. But in up-tight communities, the bootleggers can thrive and have a vested interest in keeping a county dry. They know folks are gonna drink anyway and they can supply all they need. If suddenly you could buy booze anywhere, who'd need them. So they shoveled out money to the churches for them to do their good deeds for them. And it worked. Maybe still does, I don't know.

 Kinda makes you wonder who put up all that money in California to insure the defeat of the marijuana legalization law. Let's see, who would have the vested interest. . .

MEALS ON WHEELS

  At one time, this vehicle was a common site on the streets of Naples. Pictured here in the Swamp Buggy Parade of 1976, passengers include Aubrey Rogers, Sheriff, and some Explorers, who were one of the primary benefactors of the kitchen on wheels.

 The Junior Deputy program, started by Sheriff Doug Hendry, and brought to fruition under Aubrey, also benefited. Aubrey made it a civilian adjunct to the SO, and appointed Earl Hodges as prime-mover. Earl's still there, along with John R Wood, another early board member.

 Many Junior Deputies had their first contact with law enforcement as members, camping out with and learning primary outdoor skills from the cops and advisors. And it was a positive experience. Many of the happy campers went on to become cops themselves. 

 Photo courtesy of Chester Keene. And thanks to Ray Barnett for keeping me accurate. 

JUST DYING TO GIVE YOUR MONEY AWAY?

  Watching the political commercials on TV makes you wonder just how stupid they think we are. Of course, with our electing record the answer is easy. That's why in a commercial they'll say anything knowing there is some fool out there that'll believe it.

A friend of mine, Jim Burnett, just sent me an e-mail that reminded me of one outlandish bender of the truth that made a living on his scams for a number of years. We'll call him Slicker Than Willie.

 The email showed a small block of wood with this written on it. "Exercise block. Walk around the block twice and when folks ask you if you exercise tell them you've walked around the block twice." 

 This a variation on Slicker's "Foolproof Fly Killer." Slicker sold these my mail. The ad read "Guaranteed to kill flies. One dollar plus postage and shipping." What you received was two small blocks of wood, one marked "A", the other "B." Instructions: "When fly lands on block "A" strike sharply with block "B." He sold these until the news papers shut him down.

 Slicker was not discouraged. It eventually happened in every town he moved to. So, before he'd move on he'd used his failsafe second plan. He placed ads that read, "This is absolutely your last chance to send one dollar to PO Box 123." And the money rolled in.

 So when the soap company tells you, for the hundredth time, about their "new, improved" product and you wonder what kind of crap the original your mother used was--after all these years of improving it--you can see where they came from.

 Some folks will buy anything. Just look at some of the scumbags we've elected of late.
 Editor's Note: As so often happens, readers come up with incidents that compliment my yarns. This one is from Dave Dampier.
 Reminded me of the one my stepdad fell for. The ad in the newspaper said "Guaranteed Roach Killer. 100% guaranteed if used as directed." 
 He received a small package in which were printed directions and a small, sharp, pointed wood stick. The directions read:"Place point of stick on head of roach and press firmly,"
 Results: "Cucaracha es Muy Muerte"