Parties and Cops, name a better combo?
Running from the cops isn't a very "healthy" experience, but it is by far one of the more bizarre and exciting things I've ever gone through. I can't say I wouldn't like to go through it again, but at the same time my "Ego" seems to suppress my "Id" on this one. I don't exactly know the single reason for my desire to repeat such a treacherous event, but my analytical mind definitely comes up with a few logical conclusions.
I like treating this experience and the events around it like a short story. The setting is a warm summers night in a rich neighborhood of Avon Connecticut. Avon is the town in which my cousin Seth resides. The characters in the story are myself, Seth, Mike, John, and John's reluctant girlfriend Sarah. The introduction is Seth and I sittingin the family room of his parent's newly renovated house.
Crisis number one, I turn to Seth, "Hey what are we going to do tonight?" "I don't know let me make some phone calls, it's barely eight fifteen, not much starts till 9:30." I can't remember if it was the mochacinno I had just downed, or my general impatient nature, but I was fidgeting uncontrollably to get out of that coarse family room and out to some party. To my excitement however, Seth was extremely resourceful and one phone call was all it took before we were off, burning rubber at 65 mph in his swift Honda Accord. In a few minutes time I found myself sitting on a sticky seat at a nearby McDonalds. Cheeseburger in hand and mouth I was trying to make conversation with both Seth's friends and my stomach, which both seemed very interested in talking to me. At this point in the story our party is ten people strong. Because I am not from the area I find myself doing most of the listening and little of the talking. The girls in the group hold most of the conversation, which consists largely of gossip revolving around who's having sex with who (not in those words), and about some large party at one of their friend's houses. The first crisis is finally solved when the group decides to "stop by" the party. My better judgment dissects "stopping by" as more like getting really drunk, passing out and waking up the next morning.
Imagine being a police officer doing your daily routine job. You are in a patrol car on the highway, watching the cars and trucks drive by. You are also looking for speeders to warn them to be more careful and maybe you’ll ticket them. It has been a very boring day for you, since you have only been called on your radio once, and it was for an accident (fender bender). Almost at the end of your shift, a blue car drives by going ninety miles an hour, but you know the speed limit is only fifty-five miles an hour. You pull the patrol car out of the gravel area that you had been sitting in and you start to follow the car. You put your lights on and catch up to them. After a few minutes you pull the person over. You get out of the car and start walking over towards the blue car. You are right about to talk to the driver and he drives off, leaving nothing but dust in your face. Now, the adrenaline is pumping in your body, but what should you do? You could call for backup or follow the blue car. Anything could happen. How far should you actually go? This is the question that will be answered in this paper. I will explain what police pursuit is and some different things officers do during a pursuit. I will also give some statistics about the fatalities that have happened in a police pursuit. I will also illustrate my opinion about how far police pursuits should go.
Before long I spotted my friends a few feet away and I walked in their direction. I found my 3 friends roaring with laughter, and I couldn’t help but laugh as well. A few hours later we were all piled in the car and Ashley’s parents drove home. We sat in a comfortable silence because everyone was exhausted from all the fun that we had. I smiled to myself in the dark, as I thought about what an amazing story my trip to six flags would make in the
In many scenarios, police officers are not given enough time to make the rational decision between who lives and who dies. When a person’s survival is at risk, it is not uncommon for the body to enter fight or flight mode. Lindsey Betromen, author of the article “Responding with Fight or Flight” states, “The fight or flight syndrome
It was September 19 around 3 o’ clock and I was arriving to the Fontana Police Department on Upland Street. I was dressed in all black with my ironed dress shirt and pants, and my shiny polished black shoes following the dress code they had given me. It seemed like wearing all black was a bad choice because the weather outside was very hot. That day it was 96° Fahrenheit. When I got out of my car to go into the police station I realized that my whole back was full of sweat. It looked like I had just done the ice bucket challenge, but without the ice cold refreshing water. I walked into the main entrance of the
I got dressed as fast as I could so I could make it to Strawberry with my papa. At this time of year in Mississippi weather was always chilly. So I made sure to put on my warm jacket. But in the 1930s no clothes was really warm, we couldn't afford the good jacket that I wanted but at least I wasn't like Cassie who wore ugly clothes. I suddenly thought of Jeremy and I had to make sure he was getting ready. I yelled at the top of my lungs, “JEREMY ARE YOU READY YET? WE HAVE TO GO TO STRAWBERRY TODAY!”
We were traveling thought all the beautiful places and cities in the country. During our vacation, one day we stopped at a restaurant in a small town. As we were eating, my 16-year-old cousin said to me hurry up, finish your meal and we’ll go play outside. I was a little boy just turned six years. I was excited to go play outside with my cousin, so I was the first one to finish with my meal.
Earlier that morning, we were at the Quinn motel, in Ironwood Michigan. We were staying at the motel because we lost our trailer due to the winter weather caving in our trailer. *** Explain why and how many years of hunting*** Stupid snow… I just woke up, thinking to myself I’m gonna get ‘em today! The Quinn motel was nice, not a very fancy motel, but it had everything you would need, the beds are nice, the bathrooms are fairly nice, they really don’t have a little kitchen but we stayed in the house that they rent out and that was actually pretty decent talk about what you stayed in not overall rooms. Our morning went like this, got up, brushed our teeth, my dad drank coffee like usual, then we went to Toni’s Place. Toni’s Place is about as good as the Quinn motel not fancy but, they have really good food. Toni’s place it can only fit like 60 people at a time it’s got a little bar in a curved line the bottom of its chrome it looks like the 70’s or 80’s in my opinion. It’s not very modern! Back to reality, so we are at Toni’s place, too detailed-not an important part of your story I’m eating an omelet right now, it’s so good! Bacon, Bacon, Bacon! When we got done eating we went to our stand. Shows don’t tell! The bears hit last night. The biggest paw print ...
Joe didn't live far from school so we would walk together. I spent most of my time with him and his family. They lived in a rented 3-bedroom home. Joe lived in the basement so his younger brothers each had their own room. A few years early their home had flooded. The basement was musky and half of it was unused because of the water damage. He slept on an old sofa and kept most of...
The short story is in brief about the married couple Bill and Arlene Miller, who lives opposite the married couple Harriet and Jim stone. Bill and Arlene constantly see themselves in the light of the Stones' happy life. Bill is a bookkeeper and Arlene is a secretary, while Jim is a salesman for a machine-parts firm. In the story the Stones are going on a business trip combined with a family trip. Bill and Arlene are set to look after the Stones' apartment, feeding the cat, Kitty, and water their plants. In the Stones' absence Bill and Arlene show themselves from a side you normally don't experience from people that is to say the side that shows when you are alone with yourself with the minds curiosity. The story takes place over the course of 3 days. We have an objective third party storyteller and the entire story is written in the past with a few dialogs here and there. It is chronological and we don't experience any flashbacks or flashforwards. The language isn't advanced, the sentences aren't exactly long and there aren't any complicated words. That is probably due to the fact that the story takes place in an everyday life, in an everyday life environment and also in a very normal situation (it must be said to be normal to feed the cat and water the plants, when the neighbors are away). To sum up it is not a demanding text in terms of the length or the difficulty. We don't know where the story takes place or when it takes place. We don't even know how old our main characters are. Is it even necessary? Raymond Carver gets in stories a hold on themes like alcoholism, poverty, divorce and misfor...
There has been a heated debate over the last few years whether police chases are worth the risk of public safety to catch a fleeing criminal. Each year these hot pursuits end in the arrest of thousands of criminals wanted for a wide array of crimes. At the same time it can cause injury and some times even death.
It was finally fall break. I was visiting my grandma for a few days. Well past dinnertime, I pulled up to the white stately home in northern rural Iowa. I parked my car, unloaded my bag and pillow, and crunched through the leaves to the front porch. The porch was just how I had seen it last; to the right, a small iron table and chairs, along with an old antique brass pole lamp, and on the left, a flowered glider that I have spent many a summer afternoon on, swaying back and forth, just thinking.
From a young age if I wasn’t with an immediate family member, you could find me with a man just ten years older than myself and more of a brother than a cousin. Some of my greatest memories as a child include my cousin Tim as a part of them. It didn’t matter if it was riding at the ranch arena on a nightly basis or accompanying him as he jumped his dirt bike off of a measly eight foot drop that at that time seemed like an eighty foot jump to a then four year old adventurous boy. I was his much smaller shadow that was always by his side or at his heels. After moving from Albin to Lagrange, it was a summer norm for Tim to drive the twenty miles to help process cattle or cut hay every day. Some of my best memories of those days came from him and I’s mischievousness. Whether it was tying my oldest sister down with his rope, riding the four-wheeler on two wheels or accompanying him in his ‘jam sessions’ as we cruised across the alfalfa fields cutting hay, I was just a ranch kid living the dream never realizing all of that could be taken away so
On that fateful day in March, I was a couple months shy of my third birthday. My family and I lived in New Mexico at the time and were renting a house with an outdoor in-ground pool. The day was beautiful. I was outside with my oldest sister Rachel and my father. Rachel was diligently reading curled up on a bench that sat against the house, and my father was mowing the backyard. My mother and my other sister were in the house. Off to one side of the house there was a group of large bushes. I was playing over there with one of her large cooking pots, off in my own little world. At one point while amusing and en...
One quiet summer afternoon I lay gazing into the big, blue sky watching the clouds form into immense moving objects that catch my eye for a second. I saw everything from birds to alligators and occasionally a car or bus. While staring at the sky in a world of my own I heard a clamor coming from the front of the house. I turned over on my stomach peering through the tall pampas grass that landscapes our backyard. I lay gazing through the grass as if I was a jungle cat searching for its next victim. I could not see anything so I faced the sky, once again, and enjoyed the sights and sounds of summer. I was in a daydream when I opened my eyes to see a young redheaded girl with skinned up and pig tails peering down upon me. Most of my friends would have run off yelling, "girl alert or "cooties" but I just sat there in the soft turf grass in a daze. From that second on I believe that both of would be friends for a lifetime. April moved into the vacant house that was two houses to the east of my house. It was a tall, two-story house in which I could see the entire house from my bedroom window. We spent our days together exploring the woods, riding bikes, and catching bugs. Our families were very close and often said that the two of us were like brother and sister. One calm summer night April and I climbed to the top of the garage and lay on our backs staring at the thousands of stars in the black summer sky. The garage wasn't tall; in fact, it was perfect because we could sit up there without worrying about sliding off. That night we talked about everything that was on our minds. I will never forget that night because it was so beautiful outside. The tree frogs and crickets were performing their evening melodies, and the man on the moon was looking down upon us. After talking for nearly an hour we decided that it was time we should head home. I walked April to her house because I she had to be home before I did. As I was leaving April guaranteed me that she would be over first thing in the morning to start our day of fun.
It was the second semester of fourth grade year. My parents had recently bought a new house in a nice quite neighborhood. I was ecstatic I always wanted to move to a new house. I was tired of my old home since I had already explored every corner, nook, and cranny. The moment I realized I would have to leave my old friends behind was one of the most devastating moments of my life. I didn’t want to switch schools and make new friends. Yet at the same time was an interesting new experience.