When you think of Police, you think of fighting, it goes with the job.  People have always resisted having to following orders, be controlled or told what to do, even if it is for their safety and they will fight the Police to try to get away from going to jail.

Very few times in my career, have I stood toe to toe like a boxer and fought someone while in uniform, it was usually him or her struggling to get away and me trying to hold on.  For those who did decide to punch it out and fight me or any other Cop while in uniform, well, I am sad to say, they usually ended up being hurt much more than they had to be.

April 25, 1983 is a night I will not forget.  It was the night I met Big Bad John.  It was also the night that for the first time in my career I had to hurt someone seriously.

I stopped a possible DUI driver in a van and approached the car.  I spoke to the driver, a woman, “Good evening, I’m stopping you because you are weaving down the street… is everything alright,” I asked waiting for her to speak so I could try to smell any alcohol on her breath.  “I’m fine… my husband is drunk so I decided to drive, but I only drank one beer,” she said.  I took a step back and asked her to exit the van, “Please perform a few field sobriety tests for me so I can make sure you are OK to drive.”  She performed all the tests and passed.  I was about to tell her that she was free to leave when all of a sudden her drunk husband came out of the van yelling, screaming and threatening to “kick my ass”.  He was a very large man and really buffed out, but the scary thing was, he was holding a small infant in one hand.  I tried my best to calm him down, “John, give me the baby,” screamed his wife as she tried taking the baby away from him.  Big John just slapped her away and she fell to the ground.  “You are under arrest,” I shouted grabbing his massive arm.  My partner tried to get the baby out of his other hand but Big John kicked him hard in the upper leg.   Fearing for the baby’s safety and worried for my partner, I took my nightstick from the right side of my belt and, “whoosh… CRACK!”  I hit Big John below his knee with a mighty swing from my 36″ straight stick made of hard wood.  It did not seem to faze him but the woman and my partner were able to free the child.  We then tried to arrest him but Big John grabbed my partner around the neck and started punching him in the face and chest, “whoosh… CRACK!”  I hit him again, this time right on the kneecap.  He let go of my partner and tried to lunge forward but the leg I hit twice was broken and he collapsed to the ground with a loud thud breaking his wrist.