The School Chase
Seldom in my life has irony been so blatant.
This is going to be a two-part story. The first part starts in 1985 at the Ft. Worth Police Department. A fellow officer, Eddy Taylor, made a domestic disturbance call on the west side of town. When he arrived a man and woman were arguing. Chrissy and Bob James. It wasn’t violent but she called because she was mad at him. The woman was gorgeous in all aspects of her femininity. Her husband was kind of a goof and had a criminal record. The couple calmed down and Eddy started to leave but couldn’t help himself. As he left, he gave the woman his card with his private number and told her to call him anytime if she wanted to talk. Well, she did want to talk and more. They hooked up and got to know each other very well, in the biblical sense. After a few weeks she became clingy, and Eddy figured she was working on leaving her husband and hooking up with him.
Eddy called me, “Hey, I met this girl Chrissy on a domestic call, and I’ve been fucking her. Now she wants to hook up with me and ditch her husband.”
I was shocked but not shocked. Eddy was always doing stuff like that. I said in low keyed pleasant voice, “You’re crazy for doing that and why are you calling me?”
“I need you to go out with her. That’ll take her mind off me.”
Now any veneer of compassion was gone. I laughed out loud, “You are outside yo mind. No way. Why would I jump in for you just to get burned.”
He proceeded with his sales job, “Look, I met another girl and I need a distraction for Chrissy just to get rid of her. You’re perfect. She will love you. She’s got a smokin hot body and loves to fuck. It’s right up your ally.”
I said, “Okay, you had me at smokin hot body. Give me her number.”
I know at this point you’re probably thinking, dumbass, and you would be right.
I went out with her, and we got to know each other quickly, in unadulterated physical bliss. We went out for several weeks and then scheduling issues got in the way and I stopped calling her. I never heard anything about it again. She must’ve moved on.
The second part of the story is still in Ft. Worth but in 1987. It was a crisp fall morning and it felt good after the rough summer we had. People from the north would laugh at what we consider cool weather, but we all have our standards. I’m in foot patrol and my partner and I walk the streets of downtown Ft. Worth. It’s a good job considering the alternative, a patrol car. Foot Patrol is mostly a public relations position. We walk around downtown and make nice to people and let them think they’re safe. I’m rolling my eyes after I wrote that. Most of the day is spent walking but we do have access to a patrol car.
At about 1:00 PM we got in the car to go eat. I noticed the gas gauge was low, so we headed out west to the city gas pumps. As soon as we head west the radio crackles, and an officer is in pursuit. Instantly police units respond and join the pursuit. They’re pursuing a 1968 Chevy Nova that had been customized with a huge engine. It was gray, as if it hadn’t been painted. The car was out running all the police units, so they called in the helicopter to help. We didn’t respond because we were supposed to be walking and it was way out of our district. We listened to the pursuit, and it went all over the area.
The whole time my partner and I are heading for the gas pumps listening to the excitement. We pull in and start pumping gas and the Sargent comes on the radio and discontinues the pursuit. All cars pull off and the helicopter leaves. The excitement is over. We finish pumping gas and sit there for a minute to discuss where we’re going to eat. We decide on the Mexican Inn downtown, one of our favorites, and exit the city gas pump parking lot. We pulled out and headed a quarter mile down the street to a major thoroughfare. We pulled up to the stop sign and a car pulled up to the stop sign across the street. The car at the stop sign was a 1968 Nova, which there aren’t too many of. It appears to have never been painted. We’re looking at the guy and he’s looking at us. It was like a scene in a movie. He revved the engine, and I knew we were in trouble. We all stared for a few more seconds, like we were in a western gunfight. The guy revved the car and peeled out on the thoroughfare. I flipped on the red and blue lights and siren as I punched the accelerator. I didn’t squeal out like he did but we’re on him. The road is a straight shot to the next major crossroad. We approached speeds of 90 MPH. Any little bump in the road was magnified. Smooth bumps I go over all the time are now catapults sending us airborne. The thing is the bumps are doing the same thing to the bad guy as it is to us. He must slow down. On an open highway he’d disappear in about two minutes. When you run from the police in a street by street environment it’s a lot different kind of driving. We’re staying close but he’s getting frustrated. We come to the intersection of Forest Park and W. Berry, a main street and he guns it. His car spins around and hits a tree. The guy jumps out and heads for Paschal high school across the street. We pull up behind the wrecked car and my partner and I are now in foot pursuit. We run in the doors and see the bad guy just as the bell rings to change classes. The kids come pouring out of the classrooms as two police officers are chasing a guy down the hall. The kids started screaming and moving to the side. Unfortunately for the bad guy he couldn't run as fast as the cars he built. We jumped on him, and he struggled, but he ended up in handcuffs. We took him back to the patrol car and questioned him. He was still upset about being arrested and didn’t want to cooperate. My partner took all the information for the report. He asked the bad guy, “What’s your name.”
He said, “Bob James.”
I immediately turned around, “Do you have a wife named Chrissy?”
He was still reluctant to answer, “Yeah, she’s my wife.”
I started laughing. My partner, not knowing the story asked, “What’s so funny?”
I decided to tell ol Bob and my partner the story, “Hey Bob, I gotta tell ya this just isn’t your day. You got caught by two officers that were trying to avoid getting into the chase. Your car is wrecked out. You’re probably going to prison for a while and the police officer that arrested you was fucking your wife Chrissy for months. If you think I’m lying I know about the mole just above her sensitive spot. She does go crazy when that spot is touched.”
He realized I knew what I was talking about and became enraged for a minute yelling, “I’ll kill you! You motherfucker! Let me out of here!”
After a few seconds of enragement he succumbed to defeat and just sat there in the back seat in handcuffs. My partner and I were laughing as we took him to jail. We ended up having a nice dinner at the Mexican Inn as we had planned.
I’m sure if ol Bob would’ve had the chance he would’ve killed me. I never heard about Bob again. He and Chrissy probably got a divorce. Eddy was right though, she was smokin hot.
