Thread by @BehindBlueLine

#BBLStories #D4

It's 2008.

I'm in the Canine Unit and respond to a domestic dispute to cover another unit.

Circumstances are such that I leave my police dog in the SUV.

In hindsight, I wish I hadn't.

A man with a history of violent domestic abuse has broken into his ex-wife's house. He's got a warrant out for his arrest, and he's breaching his court conditions by being there.

He knows we're coming.

He's in the downstairs bedroom.

He's holding his five-month old baby.

One officer speaks with the frightened family while the other officer and I make contact with the man.

He's sitting on the bed cradling his child. He ignores us.

My eyes are on his body language and how he's holding the baby.

This is so, so dangerous.

I begin to speak with him from the doorway. He verbally responds but won't look at me.

He croons and rocks his baby.

The hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

The third officer joins us and we convince the man to put his baby down.

He does, then stands to face us. He's a big man, thick through the shoulders and lean through the waist.

He makes a show of saying he'll come peacefully.

His baby coos behind him, playing with her toes.

He comes into the hallway and we move to put him into handcuffs. His eyes dart to the side and I know he's going to run a split second before he does.

He pivots and sprints down the hall. I'm right on his heels, and the other officers are on mine.

He makes it to the next room and pivots again.

I duck the first haymaker and go low, but his big ham fist catches me with the second one and I'm knocked off my feet.

He charges the next officer and plows him into the wall so hard he puts a cop shaped dent in the drywall.

After that, it's a blur.

Bits and pieces of police equipment fly everywhere. My radio is knocked loose, we're all in a tangle on the carpet, and the guy is trying to rip the testicles off one of the other officers.

His family rushes in and starts to scream.

I don't know if they're screaming at him to stop fighting us, or at us to leave him alone.

All I know is this man does NOT want to go to jail and will seriously hurt (or kill) us to stop that from happening.

I am in the fight of my life.

In a moment that will forever be burned in my memory, I see the frantic family jumping around in the doorway. At the same time, a police radio mic bumps me on the nose, its cord disappearing into a fray of human limbs.

I snag it, depress the red emergency button, call for help.

The next minutes are all auditory for me - our effort to control this man and his animalistic grunting.

Then, shouting and running footfalls.

Additional officers pour into the room, but I hear them rather than see them.

In the end, no one is seriously injured. We all have bumps and bruises, and I know I'm going to be sore for a few days.

Then I see the man's ex-wife. She's crying, holding her baby. She's come outside and she walks towards me.

I brace myself, my hands looped on my belt.

She lays her free hand on my forearm. Softly, she says thank you. That she didn't mean for anyone to be hurt.

I tell her she has nothing to apologize for. That she and her baby have a right to live without fear.

She nods.

Then she turns away, silent, and walks back inside.

****

Later, I learn the VPD's Domestic Violence Unit has assigned a detective and support worker to the family. That police and other services are doing everything they can to help this woman and her family.

They have a plan, and it's working.

At least it is in this case.

And with that, I turn to the next call.

Our job never ends, you know.

With each incident, and with each person helped, comes knowing that this is a worthy profession.

#VPD #police #domesticviolence #patrol