Thursday, May 29, 2008

Era of Andy Taylor

My Mom has a very dear friend. Let's call her 'Priscilla.' Mainly because that is her name.

She grew up in a cop family in the 50s and 60s (grandfather and uncle, both in Boston) and when it came time to look for something to do after graduation she figured she'd give law enforcement a try.

The thing is, in the mid 60s that was something women didn't often do. So she was a pioneer. When she got through the Police Academy and started working as a patrol woman in a small Connecticut town she found out she HATED it, but she had to stick it out for a year. Why? She was the first woman and wanted to make it easier on the second. If she quit after a month they'd say she and all women couldn't cut the mustard.

At the Academy they taught her shooting with a straight on 2 handed stance. .38 Special revolver of course.

Priscilla only had cause to fire her service weapon once. She was dispatched to an apartment complex due to a threatening character. Snake. Black Racer. Four feet long. Dispatch told her to grab it, shove it in a bag, and take it somewhere. She was having none of THAT. Following procedure she made sure of her backstop, drew her pistol, shouted "Halt, Police!" and then there was one less snake terrorizing Connecticut.

Now when you fire your pistol in any department there are reams of paperwork you have to fill out, as did Priscilla, answering many questions. Questions like.

"Was the perpetrator armed?"


"Did you identify yourself as a Police Officer before firing?"


"Did the perpetrator die at the scene?"

Sadly, yes.

"Was the family of the perpetrator notified?"

No. No known family located.

Never was she required to dress all in black and throw flashbang grenades into occupied rooms as part of a dynamic entry, shooting any dogs as a matter or policy and backed up with an armored personnel character. I guess she was lucky that way. But everyone in her department was, back then.

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