The Amazing Drunk Driver
My name is David Hunt. I was working at the Fort Worth police Department in 1983 on the evening shift just west of downtown. I was considered an experienced officer having three years on the street. I had arrested many drunk drivers on midnight shift in my three years and knew when someone was a danger to people and when they could be released to drive home. There weren’t as many drunk drivers on evening shift. Occasionally someone would get drunk early and there would be a DWI case for the officer to work. Most officers, including myself, hated to work DWI cases because of the time involved and nothing was done to the drivers in the court system. The case I’m about to tell you is the most unusual I’ve ever seen. When I tell this story to other officers they agree, it’s crazy, and I’m not sure they believe me, but it happened.
It’s summer and I’m driving down University Street. It’s a major traffic thoroughfare west of the downtown. I observe an old beat up red pickup truck driving in front of me. The truck is driving fine. All of a sudden it stops and turns left onto a side street. He doesn’t use his turn signal; he just turns and causes me to hit my brakes. I decided to pull him over and see what the problem is. I turn on the red and blue lights and he pulls over. Still nothing unusual. I get out and approach the vehicle. The guy gets out of the truck as I approach. He’s an old black man about six foot tall, skinny build, and unshaven. He looks at me and in a pleasant tone and asks, “Is anything wrong officer.”
I asked him for his driver’s license and proof of insurance. He provides both. I’m now thinking this is a nice guy and I revert to; I stopped him to help him. I said, “I noticed you turned suddenly back there with no signal, and I was wondering if anything was wrong.”
He smiled, “No sir. I’m sorry. I guess that old turn signal isn’t working.”
The whole time he’s talking he seems fine. No slurring of words. He is, however, swaying ever so slightly. I smelled alcohol on his breath and started looking in the truck. I didn’t see any alcohol in plain view. We talked a while longer and I’m thinking it’s time to let him go. I’ll tell him he needs to go home and send him on his way. The longer we talk the more I get a bad feeling. The whole time he’s being accommodating. Something is wrong. I feel like he can drive but he makes sudden moves that could cause an accident.
I decided to give him a sobriety test. He walked a straight line but was swaying a little too much. I figured better safe than sorry and took him to jail. His truck needed to be towed. He’s still cooperative.
When a person’s vehicle is towed, it must be inventoried. I searched the truck and found a fifth of Jack Daniels under the seat. It was three quarters empty. We arrived at the police station, and I began the paperwork. The guy was subdued and taken to the breathalyzer room. The room is small and completely enclosed. It has a sterile, almost hospital atmosphere. There’s a small table with the breathalyzer machine on it with one chair for the operator and one for the suspect. There was room for an officer to stand in there and that’s about it. I had gotten halfway through the paperwork when the breathalyzer guy came in and called me. I went in the room while the breathalyzer was administered.
The suspect was cooperative as he’d been all along. He blew into the machine. As the results came out the breathalyzer guy sat there stunned. I asked, “Well, what is it?”
When I was in the police academy, we went through all kinds of training for DWI’s. The legal limit in Texas at the time was 0.1 alcohol blood content. After three or four drinks you were about at that level. In my experiences I’ve had 0.2 DWI’s and even 0.27 DWI’s. Those people were extremely drunk.
We were also told if a person’s blood alcohol content approached 0.5 percent, they would be dead. I could tell by the look on the breathalyzer guys’ face something was wrong. He looked at me and said, “This guy just blew a 0.49.”
I said, “Run it again.”
He agreed and ran it again. The suspect was still in a good mood and in full control of his faculties. The results came in and the breathalyzer guy again had a funny look on his face, “It’s still 0.49! You better tell the jail lieutenant.”
I walked into the lieutenant’s office, “Hey LT I just got a DWI in here that blew a 0.49.”
The lieutenant looked up at me stunned, “No way. There has to be some mistake. Run it again.”
“We’ve already run it twice. Same thing.”
The lieutenant got up and we walked back to the breathalyzer room. As we walked in the lieutenant looked at the suspect, “How you are doing today partner?”
The old man looked up with a pleasant smile and said in a normal voice, “I’m good sir, how about yourself?”
The lieutenant slowly looked at me with astonishment. He told the operator to run it again. The operator had the man blow into the tube again. We all waited for the results. A minute later the tape came, and the operator tore it off the machine. He looked at it and showed the tape to the lieutenant as he said, “And for the third time, a 0.49.”
The lieutenant told me to take the suspect to the hospital, now. I got him in the car and didn’t even handcuff him. He was so nice and cooperative. I asked him on the way down there if he knew why he was being arrested. He was completely cognizant of his situation. He said, “Yeah, I been drinkin to much. It’s been a while since the ol police have caught me though.”
“Well sir, we’ve got to get you taken care of. We’ll take you to the hospital and everything will be fine.”
He smiled as we arrived at the hospital just south of downtown. The lieutenant had called ahead, and the staff was waiting for us. They took the suspect, and a doctor walked up. I filled him in, “Hey Doc, this guy blew a 0.49 and he’s just as normal as can be. I don’t get it.”
The doctor looked at me, “Normally he should be dead. I’ve seen cases like this before. These old guys drink their whole lives, and alcohol becomes a part of their system. They end up developing a high tolerance level. This guy is through the roof though. We’ll see what we can do.”
I left the hospital thinking about the situation. I’ve had my share of alcohol in my day but nothing like that. Hell, I pass out at around 0.28 which prevents further consumption. Now I feel like a lightweight.
I charged the guy with public intoxication instead of DWI with time served in the hospital. He’s going to need all the help he can get. I looked up his record. He was 72 years old and only had two DWI’s on his sheet. I can see why; he can drive right by an officer and seem normal as hell. I was grasping at straws trying to feel good about something I did in police work and was thinking maybe I saved his life, but who knows.
