One Legged Woman

      This story just shows how much ridiculousness you can get into as a police officer. I was working the evening shift at the Ft. Worth Police Department on the west side of downtown. The year was 1983. The dispatcher called and said there was a domestic disturbance. All she told me was a man and a woman were fighting. She gave me the address and I headed that way. Domestic disturbances are dangerous, so you’re supposed to send two officers. There was no back up available. I was almost there, and the dispatcher found a backup unit and he was on the way. I arrived on the scene and located the apartment number. As I approached the apartment there was a small group of people in a courtyard to my right and I could hear yelling. I went to the disturbance and there was a skinny, older woman, probably in her fifties on crutches. The woman only had one leg but that didn’t stop her. She was yelling at an even smaller, skinnier man. The man was completely cowered by her. They yelled back and forth as I approached. The woman took one of her crutches and poked the man. He backed up and continued to cower. I yelled at the woman to stop. She looked at me and continued to poke the man. I walked up to her and lowered her crutch. I told the man to wait over there for me. I asked the woman what the problem was.

      She said, “I’m tired of him sitting around drinking beer.”

      “It smells like you’ve been sitting there with him drinking beer.”

      She got an angry look and said, “Hell no! I don’t drink beer. I only drink Jack Daniels!”

      I went over to the man and asked him what happened. He didn’t want any trouble from me or her. He hem hawed around and I decided they had calmed down.

      I got them both together and said, “Okay, if you’ve all calmed down and I know for sure nothing else will happen I’ll be going.”

      As I started to leave the woman began yelling at me, “When you leave, I’m gonna beat the shit out of him.”

      You could hear a quiet but audible uh oh from the crowd of about fifteen people. In a cool, calm manner I turned towards her and said, “Mam, if you do that, I’ll have to take you to jail.”

      She laughed, “The hell you will. I ain’t goin no where.”

      “Well then, maybe I’ll just take you to jail right now.”

      “Mr. Police man you just try to take me to jail. You son of bitch.”

      It was at this point I realized I let my alligator mouth overload my hummingbird body. If I bring a one legged lady to the jail, I will be crucified by my peers. Not only that, if she’s fighting and I can’t control her, I might have to leave the state. The woman then poked me with her crutch, prodding me, “Come on ya son of a bitch, take me in.”

      I slapped the crutches away and told her she’s about to go to jail. She continued to laugh and poke. About this time my backup arrived. I walked over to him as he smiled, “Is there a problem?”

      I explained the situation and he said, “I think she needs to go downtown.”

      The whole time I’m talking with back up she’s yelling profanities at us and laughing. As my back up told me, she needs to go downtown, I felt something devious about him. He knows what they’re going to do to me. We’re good friends but he would love to have a good laugh at my expense. The crowd got closer wondering how this was going to turn out. Apparently, the woman is going to make a show out of it, and everyone wants to see. I walked over to her, “Mam, I’m going to give you one more chance. Why don’t you go back inside and relax.”

      She would have none of it. As soon as I got close, she started poking me again and yelling obscenities. I decided it was time to take action, “Okay mam, if you insist, we can do it your way.”

      I’m standing in front of her, and she puts all her weight on the crutches and kicks me right between the legs. It hurt but fortunately it was a glancing blow and wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been. Now the crowd erupts with laughter. I got the feeling the crowd was enjoying my predicament. I turned to my backup who was standing there with his arms crossed and a big smile, “You got this?”

      I gave him my best disgusted face, “Yeah, no problem, I got it.”

      I grabbed her arm and limped towards the police unit. As we walk, she keeps trying to kick me. She stops so she can turn towards me and kick. The crowd is laughing and my back up is right in there with them. I keep turning her towards the car, but she keeps turning and yelling profanities. By now I’m pissed and humiliated. I walk in front of her, and she prepares to kick again but I grab both crutches and pull them out from under her arms. Now she’s on one leg hopping around. She’s still yelling. I go to grab her, and she drops to the ground. She takes her one leg and starts moving it so she’s going in a circle. She looks like Curly from the three stooges when he laid on the ground and ran in a circle. When her one leg came around close to me, she would kick at me. The crowd once again was roaring. I waited for my chance and pounced. I grabbed her and picked her up. We were going to the car. She was relentless as she kicked and hit me. I can’t imagine fighting her if she had another leg. I would probably have to shoot her. I got her to the car and stuffed her in the back seat. A kind soul brought me her crutches and we headed to jail.

      It was as I expected, taunting for weeks. Some forty years later I go to retirement lunches and tell old war stories. Inevitably someone suddenly stops and looks at me and says, “Who was the guy who brought the one legged woman to jail that time.”