fieldethos.com
The house was a rental, so we got permission from the landlord to go inside. Turns out they were using the electric oven to heat the home—very resourceful. When we opened the cabinets to check for food, the shelves started moving. And we all started singing La cucaracha as we quickly exited the premises. We didn’t have to worry about shutting the door though, He had already taken it off the hinges during one of his field trips outside to visit with me. So that was nice of him. Teamwork makes the dream work. 
I wasn't sure which response was appropriate, I laughed and was sad and have definitely felt your pain. Great storyIn a past life, I was a social worker who investigated alleged child neglect. This particular case involved a large family allegedly living with no heat and a grab bag of environmental neglect. Allegedly. I already knew the parents—repeat customers, if you will—so I called the local police to stand by. Because nothing says Tuesday at work like a safety plan.
I arrived before the police. While I was waiting in my car, ol’ boy decided to come outside and chat. I got out of the car because I usually relied on the dumb blonde routine, which had served me well up until this exact moment. But the meth be absolutely methin that day.
He stormed back into the house, grabbed a baseball bat, and came at me swingin. He was about 6’3”, a solid foot taller than me, and somehow still stout despite his choice in recreational activities. Since my car door was still within arms reach and I didn’t feel like doing extra paperwork, I got back in my car and thought maybe I could play a little here kitty kitty (work smarter not harder) by driving around until police got there.
I drove down the street a little ways where I could still see him. And because we all know being under the influence of controlled substances ALWAYS enhances the judgment and decision-making area of your frontal lobe, he decided to chase me down the road… while his kids scattered through the neighborhood. In December. 30 degree weather. No coats. Just vibes.
By the time the police arrived, everyone had vanished. Poof. Houdini would have been proud..
The police condemned the building. After some digging, we found the family at a relative’s house, and the kids went on to live much better lives.
Immediately afterward, I took a week-long trip to Boston. I drank like I was auditioning for a role on Cheers, probably did some things I’m grateful I don’t remember, saw some cool places, thought seriously about moving there to become one of the colonial actors, and have no idea how I got back to the hotel at least two of those nights. But honestly? Given the circumstances, that felt like the outcome we all wanted.
Growing up, my dad was a cop. He always said, "You have to laugh. Otherwise, you die." Dark humor has been my constant life companionLaughter—I choose that every time. No time for sadness. Thank you
Same. My aunt and uncle were police officers, I was a dispatcher for 5 years then social work. Dark humor is in my DNA. If I’m not sarcastic with you, I probably don’t like you
On the note about not wearing a seatbelt. My wife and i were on a bike trip through Washington state, stopped at a light where the road to our right terminated at the road we were on. We heard tires screeching to our right. On the road coming into the intersection, at the top of the hill to our right, a car missed the turn, and went off the road down the hill. I still have a snapshot of the view of the driver in shorts and no shirt flipping through the air with the car rotating thru the air behind him. No doubt he did not make it as the car likely landed on him at the bottom of the hill (which was out of our line of site). I never drove without one after that.
My respect goes to you. I have never been a first responder/social worker – I think people underestimate the random psychological/sociological messes people in your (previous) line of work encounter on a pretty consistent basis.In a past life, I was a social worker who investigated alleged child neglect. This particular case involved a large family allegedly living with no heat and a grab bag of environmental neglect. Allegedly. I already knew the parents—repeat customers, if you will—so I called the local police to stand by. Because nothing says Tuesday at work like a safety plan.
I arrived before the police. While I was waiting in my car, ol’ boy decided to come outside and chat. I got out of the car because I usually relied on the dumb blonde routine, which had served me well up until this exact moment. But the meth be absolutely methin that day.
He stormed back into the house, grabbed a baseball bat, and came at me swingin. He was about 6’3”, a solid foot taller than me, and somehow still stout despite his choice in recreational activities. Since my car door was still within arms reach and I didn’t feel like doing extra paperwork, I got back in my car and thought maybe I could play a little here kitty kitty (work smarter not harder) by driving around until police got there.
I drove down the street a little ways where I could still see him. And because we all know being under the influence of controlled substances ALWAYS enhances the judgment and decision-making area of your frontal lobe, he decided to chase me down the road… while his kids scattered through the neighborhood. In December. 30 degree weather. No coats. Just vibes.
By the time the police arrived, everyone had vanished. Poof. Houdini would have been proud..
The police condemned the building. After some digging, we found the family at a relative’s house, and the kids went on to live much better lives.
Immediately afterward, I took a week-long trip to Boston. I drank like I was auditioning for a role on Cheers, probably did some things I’m grateful I don’t remember, saw some cool places, thought seriously about moving there to become one of the colonial actors, and have no idea how I got back to the hotel at least two of those nights. But honestly? Given the circumstances, that felt like the outcome we all wanted.
I appreciate that—it was a very rewarding job and fit my personality well. I did that for about 2.5 years, got pregnant with my oldest and God opened a different door that allowed me to be with him more, otherwise I would probably still be doing that. You are correct— there are unfortunately many other stories I have like that, but thankfully, there are also really good people willing to combat all the evil in this world. Thankful for our military and first responders, good always wins.
This reminds me of a story my father-in-law would tell that had a happier ending. While he was in law school, he went out drinking martinis with a friend. He said they drank to the point where people walking past them had "vapor trails." They picked up two sorority girls and somehow fit all four of them in his friend's MG convertible. Shortly after setting off wherever they were going, the MG went off the road and down a hill. Because the convertible top was down, all four of them flew out during the first rotation and walked away without any serious injuries.
Similar story, Philippines, 1986 during the Marcos Rebellion... we were an elite team of Marines and had 48 hours of liberty but the town outside the base was under martial law and there was a curfew and no one was authorized beyond the downtown area outside the main gate. We took our liberty as soon as the gates opened during a monsoon rainstorm. Vendors everywhere selling umbrellas. A buddy of mine Brian Sletterink bought a compact umbrella, the kind that when you hit a button it extends and simultaneously opens. We rented a jeepney and headed off to White Rock Beach Resort, way outside our authorized area for liberty. During the trip there was just some random Aussie merchant marine that hopped on, our little group and some big, heavyset Pilipino with a thick neck and mean scar across his face. When we arrived, Mr. Mean Mug produced a snub-nosed revolver and asked what was in our wallets, this was years before Capitol One was a thing, and though I didn't shit myself, I was turtling.
Holy hell, thats fuckin' gnarlySeveral...
But this was a weird one.
'Block-Buster' Truck Bomb One of the Biggest Ever
Afghan national security forces near the border with Pakistan recently intercepted one of the largest truck bombs ever built, a massive "vehicle-borne improvised explosive device," or VBIED, packed with some 61,500 pounds of explosives.abcnews.go.com
The largest recorded potential suicide explosives truck (over 60,000lbs of explosives) was almost detonated outside our small forward operating base in Afghanistan near Gardez.
He pulled off the road next to our small base. Looking suspicious, our guys at the gate went to check him out. In a panic he tried to detonate but messed it up–and our guys shot him in his cab. He was then brought to an Afghan hospital in Gardez proper for treatment... but he ultimately blew himself up with a grenade in his hospital bed.
What makes it weird/freaky for me is that I was asleep–and my sleep hut was on the base-side of the hesco barrier right where he decided to pull over and try and detonate.
If he successfully detonated, I would have literally been incinerated in my sleep.
Basically... I would have "never woken up."
It's one thing to see death coming... but to never wake up? Weird one.
Yea man it was. Felt I used several of my cat lives on that one!
Holy hell man!! Glad you're still with us even though I don't know you. Had a close friend die of a glioblastoma a couple of years ago, brain tumors are serious shit!
Since I had my diagnosis it seems like brain tumors are for more common then I ever imagined, everyone seems to know someone who's gone through it. Sorry to be hear about your friend, but we just keep living the best we can so they are remembered am I right
