At this time of year, I tend to be somewhat reflectful, and am thankful for friends and family. Here's a posting I made a few years ago on another board. I'd forgotten about the posting, though not the event.
Thought I'd share it with everyone, so here's a new re-run...
-- John Gehman
Thought I'd share it with everyone, so here's a new re-run...
It was 1972, an eventful year. I survived my army service and came home from the war, went through two police academies and finished my probation as a Patrolman. Christmas day that year had an incident in store for me that was unique in my years of law enforcement, and one that I've never forgotten.
I doubled back for a day shift from the afternoon shift of the previous evening. Rookies and single guys pulled extra shifts so that the married guys could have the holiday off with their kids. It was about 7:30am that morning, about 25° or so with blustery gusts and a blowing light powdery snowfall. The streets were empty, especially at that hour. A quiet time. Driving down one of the streets, I saw some motion on a side street off to my left and then noticed that it was a kid. A little kid. Alone.
He was very cold, shivering, and was crying uncontrollably. He didn't have any shoes on --just wet socks, and was dressed in just a t-shirt and underwear. He was dirty and hungry and obviously not well looked after. I pulled out a blanket from the trunk of the squad, wrapped him up and got him into the warm car.
He said that he'd been good and that Santa had forgotten him. He was in great distress about being overlooked and was looking for Santa so he could show him where he lived so he could get some presents.
I told him I'd find Santa for him and asked him to show me where he lived; he pointed out his house to me. I radioed my Captain, headed into the station where it was warm and dry. We got the boy something to eat and notified Child Protective Services. We met CPS at the Hospital emergency room and had the boy examined --he was cold, suffered a little exposure, but no frostbite and he was generally OK.
It was time to pay 'Mom' a visit.
A loud and repeated and persistent pounding on the door resulted with her filthy, stumbling drunk 'boyfriend' answering the door. 'Mom' was half naked, passed-out drunk, sprawled across a filthy bed without bedding. It was a 'trash house' filled with rubbish and garbage and waste. No Christmas decorations here. And no food. Any no heat. And no kids clothes, either.
We tossed the 'boyfriend', arrested 'mom' and took her to the hospital for a blood alcohol test to make sure it was just drunkenness (it was). Then we locked her *** up in the county jail.
In those days, the big retail chains had not yet emerged --the Toys'R'Us, Wal-marts, etc, --hadn't formed yet. In retrospect, this was actually a blessing, as the cops knew all the local businessmen. We worked the phones and our local merchants responded to the plight of this little guy as only local, community oriented people will.
They contacted some of their employees who came in from their Holiday to help out. The shop owners outfitted the kid with clothes, shoes, socks and underwear, a winter coat; and toys. Oh, the toys. And candy and goodies. The local store employees boxed and wrapped these gifts which were from 'Santa'. Protective services had an emergency placement with a local family. We even got a local guy who played Santa for one of the stores suited up and over to the foster home with the gifts.
The outcome.
Well, the system can move rapidly when it wants to. Without delay, we were able to terminate parental rights. I know that the boy was adopted shortly thereafter without the extended foster care that can plague the system at times. I don't know who adopted him, or how things turned out; but I suspect that everything turned out OK. I don't know and don't care what happened to 'mom', though I suspect she drank herself to death or dropped from an OD. <shrug>
I've seen a lot over the years. Indochina holds many stark memories. I spent 12 years on the street as a cop and after a while, when you figure you've about seen it all, there's always some ******* that comes up with some new evil twist. Life goes on.
But every year about this time, when I sit down with a Christmas cigar and reflect on the future and the past, I always recall that Christmas morning. And I give thanks to God that things worked out. I've often wondered what became of the boy, what kind of man he became. I'll never know.
It was a lot of people that rose to the call that morning. But thinking of this, this time of year, I thought that I'd share it with everyone.
-- John Gehman
