Bill Says: One of the things that helped to pass the time off between shifts were the practical jokes we played on each other. We had little social life in Dillingham, at least for me Mona eventually joined me and we had our own apartment. But while living with my fellow officers, everyone became a target to some form of joke or another.
CJ, my wannabe mercenary friend, smoked this vile pipe and we all finally reached a point that we couldn't take it any longer. I'm not sure what he used for tobacco but it smelled more like cow droppings. We knew that it was his practice in the morning to jump up from bed, do some exercises, which didn't seem to do anything for his portly figure and then jump into a long hot shower. This usually depleted our hot water supply for the next three hours. So, this one fine morning while he was doing his exercises, we rigged the shower for him and then waited in the living room for his expected response. What we did was take the head of a very large king salmon and shove it over the shower nozzle to make it look as if it was peering down upon him. We then inserted his beloved pipe in the mouth of the salmon in hopes CJ would get the idea we did not like his pipe smoking in the house. We had made verbal complaints and he hadn't listened. Sure enough, we heard this little girl like shriek and then some rather foul words emmanating from the bathroom. Then the door opened and the fish head came flying out, followed by his pipe and some down right nasty threats to our lives. CJ later laughed about it, but he kept his pipe smoking to the outside or in his patrol vehicle.
Our very well-liked sergeant was beginning to display some raw nerves following a series of violent arrests and we all decided it was time for a joke to let him release some of the tension. Well, Sgt Rick Mazac, a Texas boy, drove this old blue blazer for a patrol vehicle, which had this single rotating red and blue light on top. Two of the officers, ( I wasn't involved in the initial stages of this one), located a deceased beaver out on the road and brought it back to the apartment. In the early morning hours, we- (yes, now I was involved), set the beaver up wrapped around the roof's single police light. We made it appear the beaver was going for a ride, but holding on for dear life. We thought Rick would come out, see the beaver and explode, releasing some of his tension and then laugh it off. That didn't happen. Well, not exactly the way we had planned. Rick, not having his morning coffee, never noticed the beaver. He started up his rig and went driving off with all of us wondering what might happen since he was now driving off with a dead beaver on his roof top. Me, I went back to bed. The others waited around for the bomb to go off and they didn't have to wait long. Rick was driving down the road and a single line of blood began to run down his windshield. This caused Rick to jerk his car off the road, nearly hitting another vehicle and when he found the beaver on top, which was shared by several onlookers- our beloved sergeant was not a happy camper. We buried the beaver and soon afterward, Rick exploded into laughter and he began planning his revenge.
Microwaves were booby-trapped, hot water turned off, tires flattened, engine parts missing and police reports began missing- which required the officer to redo same. The list was long, but it helped us keep our sanity in a troubled location. We never messed with each other's police gear, but anything else was open game. I swiped all of Don's master keys for a day from his locksmith work table and of course no one trusted the white sugar container- knowing someone had put salt in it and the refrigerator became one big bomb shell. Leftovers were sprinkled with many a vile ingrediant and so it went.
One morning I was ordered by Chief Gray, ( this was all prearranged), to arrest Rick for official misconduct. So, I woke him up and in his sleepy state I arrested him and put him into handcuffs. I was selected because I was big enough to handle Rick. rick was demanding to know what was going on but I had the handcuffs on him before he was totally awake. I dragged him kicking and screaming outside, still in his underwear and secured him in my patrol vehicle. I was under order not to talk with him. I transported him to the courthouse and led him inside to face the magistrate. There, all the officers were waiting and the magistrate became official and proceeded to read off the charges. There were no real charges. The magistrate was reading off the Rick's record of arrests and investigations. Chief Gray then approached with Rick's new uniform which now bore the stripes of a sergeant. Rick was speechless and it also came with a large increase in pay. I then apologized for my treatment of him and he took it quite well- but I was ready for him to come back at me in some fashion- good-natured of course. Rick was a good man.
On one Saturday morning I was working late in helping a young man locate his stolen bicycle, which he badly needed for his job. We were on one side of town and CJ, who was now on duty, had entered into a pursuit of a dirt motorcycle with two riders on and he was requesting me to back him up. I quickly accelerated with my police lights going and my frightened passenger, who apparently didn't trust my driving , desiring me to stop to let him off. I was close to begging by the end of the chase. I told him to hold on and was going about 70 mph on a dirt road. Had I been the passenger I might've been reluctant too. CJ was coming from the other direction and right behind the motorcycle. The passenger on the bike was "flipping" CJ off and CJ never took that quite well. We merged at an intersection and the motorcycle got past me and on to a dirt trail that ran adjacent the airport's runway. CJ's suburban was much to heavy to continue pursuit, but I stayed behind the bike and was soon going airborne as we hit the bumps. Now I felt like Steve McQueen on the movie Bullet. The bike went into the air and then I would soon follow, and my poor passenger on the verge of jumping out to get away from me. finally the motorcycle hit one too many bumps and when it came down the driver lost control and spilled the bike, sending passenger and rider off in opposite directions. The passenger was knocked cold and the driver, a youth of about 17 yrs, rolled for several feet and came to rest in one of the many old cemeteries Dillingham had scattered about, (during the flu epidemic of the mid 1900's the town had lost hundreds of people to the disease). But when I reached him he was sitting up against a grave stone, semi-conscious and above his head was the typical Rest In Peace. I had to laugh and when I looked around, my terrified passenger had vanished into the woods. I guess he realized actual police work was far different the TV police stuff. We arrested both offenders and CJ was happy to learn the bike was stolen and it took me some doing to keep his hands off these stupid kids. He was a bully, but in a nasty bar fight he was a good man to have beside you and we fought many a bar fight together in Dillingham. Fishermen are a rowdy bunch, especially in a fish strike.
So that was some of the funny side of Dillingham and even Chief Gray got into it. We all got together and pulled a practical joke on our chief dispatcher. Karen was a city girl from the 48, who had joined her husband in Dillingham and needed a job to keep her busy. She was college grad with a degree in business, our best typist and handled the emergencies quite well. BUT she did not like being the victim of a joke.
At the point in time CJ and Chief Gray sincerely disliked one another and CJ was at a point where he was either going to be shot by the chief or fired. Sincerely, it was getting bad and we, the officers, decided to step in. During shooting practice, we finally got them to talk it out and peace was once more on this earth. Then the sergeant got the idea to pull a joke on Karen. So, Chieg Gray entered the office first, ranting and raving about CJ's latest misconduct, went into his office and slammed the door. Then CJ dashes in, threats sputtering from his lips against the chief and he storms into Chief Gray's office and slams the door behind him. Shouts and threats follow from inside the office and then a shot rings out from inside the room. Karen is terrified one had shot the other and she wasn't sure who was the shooter and who was the victim. That's when we walked in, having finished our shooting practice and she is standing there in tears, pointing at the chief's office door. She blubbers out what had happened, so we all rush in and there are three more shots. She is now about to fall apart and headed for the phone to call the fire chief and EMT's out. That's when we open the door and are all smiling at her with these cat just ate the tweety bird looks. Boy, was she angry with us. She actually threw the computer monitor at us, then the typewriter and other desk thingees soon followed. She then walked out and no one saw her for two days. We were sure worried we had had gone too far, but she eventually came back and there was no mention of the event ever again. Great joke though! Only cost us a new typewriter and computer monitor, but at least CJ and the Chief were talking again.
Goodbye!
CJ, my wannabe mercenary friend, smoked this vile pipe and we all finally reached a point that we couldn't take it any longer. I'm not sure what he used for tobacco but it smelled more like cow droppings. We knew that it was his practice in the morning to jump up from bed, do some exercises, which didn't seem to do anything for his portly figure and then jump into a long hot shower. This usually depleted our hot water supply for the next three hours. So, this one fine morning while he was doing his exercises, we rigged the shower for him and then waited in the living room for his expected response. What we did was take the head of a very large king salmon and shove it over the shower nozzle to make it look as if it was peering down upon him. We then inserted his beloved pipe in the mouth of the salmon in hopes CJ would get the idea we did not like his pipe smoking in the house. We had made verbal complaints and he hadn't listened. Sure enough, we heard this little girl like shriek and then some rather foul words emmanating from the bathroom. Then the door opened and the fish head came flying out, followed by his pipe and some down right nasty threats to our lives. CJ later laughed about it, but he kept his pipe smoking to the outside or in his patrol vehicle.
Our very well-liked sergeant was beginning to display some raw nerves following a series of violent arrests and we all decided it was time for a joke to let him release some of the tension. Well, Sgt Rick Mazac, a Texas boy, drove this old blue blazer for a patrol vehicle, which had this single rotating red and blue light on top. Two of the officers, ( I wasn't involved in the initial stages of this one), located a deceased beaver out on the road and brought it back to the apartment. In the early morning hours, we- (yes, now I was involved), set the beaver up wrapped around the roof's single police light. We made it appear the beaver was going for a ride, but holding on for dear life. We thought Rick would come out, see the beaver and explode, releasing some of his tension and then laugh it off. That didn't happen. Well, not exactly the way we had planned. Rick, not having his morning coffee, never noticed the beaver. He started up his rig and went driving off with all of us wondering what might happen since he was now driving off with a dead beaver on his roof top. Me, I went back to bed. The others waited around for the bomb to go off and they didn't have to wait long. Rick was driving down the road and a single line of blood began to run down his windshield. This caused Rick to jerk his car off the road, nearly hitting another vehicle and when he found the beaver on top, which was shared by several onlookers- our beloved sergeant was not a happy camper. We buried the beaver and soon afterward, Rick exploded into laughter and he began planning his revenge.
Microwaves were booby-trapped, hot water turned off, tires flattened, engine parts missing and police reports began missing- which required the officer to redo same. The list was long, but it helped us keep our sanity in a troubled location. We never messed with each other's police gear, but anything else was open game. I swiped all of Don's master keys for a day from his locksmith work table and of course no one trusted the white sugar container- knowing someone had put salt in it and the refrigerator became one big bomb shell. Leftovers were sprinkled with many a vile ingrediant and so it went.
One morning I was ordered by Chief Gray, ( this was all prearranged), to arrest Rick for official misconduct. So, I woke him up and in his sleepy state I arrested him and put him into handcuffs. I was selected because I was big enough to handle Rick. rick was demanding to know what was going on but I had the handcuffs on him before he was totally awake. I dragged him kicking and screaming outside, still in his underwear and secured him in my patrol vehicle. I was under order not to talk with him. I transported him to the courthouse and led him inside to face the magistrate. There, all the officers were waiting and the magistrate became official and proceeded to read off the charges. There were no real charges. The magistrate was reading off the Rick's record of arrests and investigations. Chief Gray then approached with Rick's new uniform which now bore the stripes of a sergeant. Rick was speechless and it also came with a large increase in pay. I then apologized for my treatment of him and he took it quite well- but I was ready for him to come back at me in some fashion- good-natured of course. Rick was a good man.
On one Saturday morning I was working late in helping a young man locate his stolen bicycle, which he badly needed for his job. We were on one side of town and CJ, who was now on duty, had entered into a pursuit of a dirt motorcycle with two riders on and he was requesting me to back him up. I quickly accelerated with my police lights going and my frightened passenger, who apparently didn't trust my driving , desiring me to stop to let him off. I was close to begging by the end of the chase. I told him to hold on and was going about 70 mph on a dirt road. Had I been the passenger I might've been reluctant too. CJ was coming from the other direction and right behind the motorcycle. The passenger on the bike was "flipping" CJ off and CJ never took that quite well. We merged at an intersection and the motorcycle got past me and on to a dirt trail that ran adjacent the airport's runway. CJ's suburban was much to heavy to continue pursuit, but I stayed behind the bike and was soon going airborne as we hit the bumps. Now I felt like Steve McQueen on the movie Bullet. The bike went into the air and then I would soon follow, and my poor passenger on the verge of jumping out to get away from me. finally the motorcycle hit one too many bumps and when it came down the driver lost control and spilled the bike, sending passenger and rider off in opposite directions. The passenger was knocked cold and the driver, a youth of about 17 yrs, rolled for several feet and came to rest in one of the many old cemeteries Dillingham had scattered about, (during the flu epidemic of the mid 1900's the town had lost hundreds of people to the disease). But when I reached him he was sitting up against a grave stone, semi-conscious and above his head was the typical Rest In Peace. I had to laugh and when I looked around, my terrified passenger had vanished into the woods. I guess he realized actual police work was far different the TV police stuff. We arrested both offenders and CJ was happy to learn the bike was stolen and it took me some doing to keep his hands off these stupid kids. He was a bully, but in a nasty bar fight he was a good man to have beside you and we fought many a bar fight together in Dillingham. Fishermen are a rowdy bunch, especially in a fish strike.
So that was some of the funny side of Dillingham and even Chief Gray got into it. We all got together and pulled a practical joke on our chief dispatcher. Karen was a city girl from the 48, who had joined her husband in Dillingham and needed a job to keep her busy. She was college grad with a degree in business, our best typist and handled the emergencies quite well. BUT she did not like being the victim of a joke.
At the point in time CJ and Chief Gray sincerely disliked one another and CJ was at a point where he was either going to be shot by the chief or fired. Sincerely, it was getting bad and we, the officers, decided to step in. During shooting practice, we finally got them to talk it out and peace was once more on this earth. Then the sergeant got the idea to pull a joke on Karen. So, Chieg Gray entered the office first, ranting and raving about CJ's latest misconduct, went into his office and slammed the door. Then CJ dashes in, threats sputtering from his lips against the chief and he storms into Chief Gray's office and slams the door behind him. Shouts and threats follow from inside the office and then a shot rings out from inside the room. Karen is terrified one had shot the other and she wasn't sure who was the shooter and who was the victim. That's when we walked in, having finished our shooting practice and she is standing there in tears, pointing at the chief's office door. She blubbers out what had happened, so we all rush in and there are three more shots. She is now about to fall apart and headed for the phone to call the fire chief and EMT's out. That's when we open the door and are all smiling at her with these cat just ate the tweety bird looks. Boy, was she angry with us. She actually threw the computer monitor at us, then the typewriter and other desk thingees soon followed. She then walked out and no one saw her for two days. We were sure worried we had had gone too far, but she eventually came back and there was no mention of the event ever again. Great joke though! Only cost us a new typewriter and computer monitor, but at least CJ and the Chief were talking again.
Goodbye!
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