One of the reasons I was so hostile towards officer Radcliffe that early morning when he violated my rights and stopped me for no good reason was because prior to that, I was told an interesting story about him from the employee - at the time - of the Duke and Duchess shoppe.
I had just walked up to the counter when a patrol car went through the parking lot. The employee saw this and commented. "Officer Radcliffe. Now there goes one of Piketon's finest." (I don't know how it is in other parts of the world, but through my years, when someone uses the phrase "finest", they are mocking.)
"That bad, huh?" I responded.
"You haven't lived here long, have you?" She countered. I shrugged my head. "A couple months now."
She started ringing up my merchandise. "Give it a little time." she said. (It was less than a few weeks when I would discover this for myself.) She then went on to say, "My next door neighbor works at the plant. She and her husband, 'John'. John is already retired from the military and collects a nice check each month and he is a few years away from retiring from the plant and collecting another nice pension. This past summer, John was pulled over by Radcliffe and just about lost his license, his job, his second pension, and probably his wife."
"Why is that?" I wondered.
"Because John had been drinking and according to him, he reeked of alcohol. He said he was nervous as hell, and couldn't get the thought of losing everything out of his mind as he watched Radcliffe slowly walk up to the truck. The window was already rolled down and Radcliffe asked for his driver's license, registration and proof of insurance. He was pulled over for speeding. John started fumbling with his wallet and saw he had three one hundred dollar bills in it. According to him, he thought about offering Radcliffe one of them but feared it might not be enough. Seeing how he was going to go to jail anyway for the DWI charge, he took all three bills out, folded them, and placed it under the license when he handed it over ... then he sat there frozen and looking straight ahead."
"That's ballsy." I mentioned. She agreed. "Probably, but the way he put it, he had nothing to lose by doing that. He said he leaned over and got the papers out of the glove box to hand over but before he opened it, Radcliffe told him that wouldn't be necessary. He said Radcliffe handed him his license back and told him to go straight and home and don't let me see you again tonight. Old John was like, 'Yes sir!' and off he went. He said he couldn't believe what he had done. He also said that he had heard rumors that some of the Piketon cops would take bribes because they don't make a lot of money. Radcliffe is notorious for taking bribes. You might want to watch out for officer Blair, too. He's a real asshole."
"With my luck," I told her, "I would get the cop that doesn't take a bribe."
"That's what John said!" She fired back, laughing.
When our transaction was done, I started to walk towards the door when she offered up some friendly advice. "If you keep quiet and to yourself, you shouldn't have any problems with them."
"You mean the local police?" I asked, as I turned around real quick and used my back to open the door. "If they keep quiet and to themselves, they won't have any problem with me." And with that, I smiled and made my way back home.
So you see, when Radcliffe unlawfully stopped me that night, I already knew he was a bad cop. That may have played a part as to why I was extra rude to the punk.
I will see you next Wednesday with another story of the corruption of the Piketon police department and the Pike county sheriff's office.
Wednesday, February 19, 2020
Living In Piketon, Ohio: The Bribe
Wednesday, February 12, 2020
Living In Piketon, Ohio: Fair Play
About six months after my initial incident with old Jism Jaws Jenkins, I had another encounter one night in August, in a BP / Duke & Duchess gas station, while the Pike county fair was in full function across the highway.
I entered the BP and headed towards the coffee counter area. I quickly noticed to my left, at the end of the cashier counter, old Jism Jaws standing there and talking to a couple of guys. He was laughing and smiling. Then I heard him say, "Isn't that right, Norman?"
I knew he wasn't talking to me, but he and his pals were looking at the guy standing in front of the coffee counter. I think I should also note that there were maybe another half dozen or so people inside and another half dozen or so outside at the pumps.
I stood to the left of this "Norman" fellow and soon noticed his hands shaking like a leaf on a tree in the middle of a tornado. This prompted me to ask, "Are you okay?" However, it was Jism Jaws who answered. "No, he isn't okay," Jenkins volunteered, "he's just a little nervous, aren't you Norman?"
I turned to give Jism Jaws a quick peek. "Was I talking to you, sperm lips?"
His smile suddenly turned into a straight face with daggers from his eyes shooting right into my soul. The two guys standing next to him became quiet as well. I think they were a bit surprised at the manner in which I spoke to Jenkins. I turned back to Norman. "So, what's going on?"
"It's the cop." He whispered. "He's just getting under my skin."
"Yeah!" Jenkins yelled out. "You're damn right I am. Hey Carroll, he's an ex-con. He just got out of prison a couple weeks ago."
I didn't take my eyes off of filling up my coffee cup when I responded. "What does that have to do with the price of tea in China?" Then I glanced at Norman. "Don't let that bitch get to you. He's a punk." (I tried to say it loud in so Jism Jaws could hear. It worked.)
"You don't know what he was in prison for, Carroll."
I placed my cup down on the counter and spun myself around and took a few steps towards Jenkins. "I don't care if he was in prison for raping your three year old granddaughter up the ass without lubrication. The point is; he is a free man now. He served his time and was released. That still doesn't give you the right to bully him, or anyone else for that matter. What the fuck is wrong with you, dude? Why do you continue to act like some fucking retarded dumb-ass? You ain't tough so give it up. But if you want to bully and harass someone, come over here and bully me. Harass me, mother-fucker. I dare you. I want to thump your stupid ass so badly, I can taste it in my anus."
His eyes locked onto mine for about thirty seconds. It became quiet as hell. Everyone inside was frozen where they stood, staring at him and me, waiting for the next move. Jenkins simply shook his head when I turned back around and grabbed my cup. "That's what I thought, Jism Jaws. A coward through and through. Typical Piketon Police officer." I nudged my new friend, Norman. "Come on, I'll buy your coffee for you."
We took our java to the counter and as I made payment, Norman had one more concern. "He's just gonna follow me outside when I walk back to the bar." (Which was just up the street and is no longer open.)
"No he won't," I assured him, "because I will walk with you. This way, if he does try anything, I'll get to kick his ass." Then I looked back at Jenkins. "Isn't that right, Jism jaws?"
If looks could kill, I would have been a dead man where I stood.
I motioned the cashier for a pen and took my receipt and turned it over. I ended up writing my name and phone number on it. "Here, keep this with you. If that bitch, or any other Piketon police officer ever bothers you again, you give me a call. I will personally deal with those shit holes myself."
As we headed out the door, I could see the reflection of old Jism Jaws staring me down with evil eyes. I smiled and gave him my final shout out. "You can think about it all you want," I stated, "but you and I both know that if you ever try to scratch that itch, I will beat the ever living shit right out of you, boy."
I knew that night I got to humiliate that son of a bitch in front of his two pals, the cashier and all those other folks inside. I might not know what the conversation was like when I left, but I do enjoy using my imagination thinking about it. Or maybe no one had the nerve to say anything after that public humiliation.
That guy, Norman, never did call me. But I think now, old Jism Jaws Jenkins probably wished / wishes that he never got involved with me at all.
Score one for the good guys.
And seriously, what the fuck is wrong with these Piketon police officers going around thinking they can just bully the citizens anytime they want? I bet the mayor, Billy Spencer, is full of pride right about now. This police force in Piketon, Ohio is only as corrupt as its mayor.
See you next week with another story of the law enforcement in Pike county, Ohio.
I entered the BP and headed towards the coffee counter area. I quickly noticed to my left, at the end of the cashier counter, old Jism Jaws standing there and talking to a couple of guys. He was laughing and smiling. Then I heard him say, "Isn't that right, Norman?"
I knew he wasn't talking to me, but he and his pals were looking at the guy standing in front of the coffee counter. I think I should also note that there were maybe another half dozen or so people inside and another half dozen or so outside at the pumps.
I stood to the left of this "Norman" fellow and soon noticed his hands shaking like a leaf on a tree in the middle of a tornado. This prompted me to ask, "Are you okay?" However, it was Jism Jaws who answered. "No, he isn't okay," Jenkins volunteered, "he's just a little nervous, aren't you Norman?"
I turned to give Jism Jaws a quick peek. "Was I talking to you, sperm lips?"
His smile suddenly turned into a straight face with daggers from his eyes shooting right into my soul. The two guys standing next to him became quiet as well. I think they were a bit surprised at the manner in which I spoke to Jenkins. I turned back to Norman. "So, what's going on?"
"It's the cop." He whispered. "He's just getting under my skin."
"Yeah!" Jenkins yelled out. "You're damn right I am. Hey Carroll, he's an ex-con. He just got out of prison a couple weeks ago."
I didn't take my eyes off of filling up my coffee cup when I responded. "What does that have to do with the price of tea in China?" Then I glanced at Norman. "Don't let that bitch get to you. He's a punk." (I tried to say it loud in so Jism Jaws could hear. It worked.)
"You don't know what he was in prison for, Carroll."
I placed my cup down on the counter and spun myself around and took a few steps towards Jenkins. "I don't care if he was in prison for raping your three year old granddaughter up the ass without lubrication. The point is; he is a free man now. He served his time and was released. That still doesn't give you the right to bully him, or anyone else for that matter. What the fuck is wrong with you, dude? Why do you continue to act like some fucking retarded dumb-ass? You ain't tough so give it up. But if you want to bully and harass someone, come over here and bully me. Harass me, mother-fucker. I dare you. I want to thump your stupid ass so badly, I can taste it in my anus."
His eyes locked onto mine for about thirty seconds. It became quiet as hell. Everyone inside was frozen where they stood, staring at him and me, waiting for the next move. Jenkins simply shook his head when I turned back around and grabbed my cup. "That's what I thought, Jism Jaws. A coward through and through. Typical Piketon Police officer." I nudged my new friend, Norman. "Come on, I'll buy your coffee for you."
We took our java to the counter and as I made payment, Norman had one more concern. "He's just gonna follow me outside when I walk back to the bar." (Which was just up the street and is no longer open.)
"No he won't," I assured him, "because I will walk with you. This way, if he does try anything, I'll get to kick his ass." Then I looked back at Jenkins. "Isn't that right, Jism jaws?"
If looks could kill, I would have been a dead man where I stood.
I motioned the cashier for a pen and took my receipt and turned it over. I ended up writing my name and phone number on it. "Here, keep this with you. If that bitch, or any other Piketon police officer ever bothers you again, you give me a call. I will personally deal with those shit holes myself."
As we headed out the door, I could see the reflection of old Jism Jaws staring me down with evil eyes. I smiled and gave him my final shout out. "You can think about it all you want," I stated, "but you and I both know that if you ever try to scratch that itch, I will beat the ever living shit right out of you, boy."
I knew that night I got to humiliate that son of a bitch in front of his two pals, the cashier and all those other folks inside. I might not know what the conversation was like when I left, but I do enjoy using my imagination thinking about it. Or maybe no one had the nerve to say anything after that public humiliation.
That guy, Norman, never did call me. But I think now, old Jism Jaws Jenkins probably wished / wishes that he never got involved with me at all.
Score one for the good guys.
And seriously, what the fuck is wrong with these Piketon police officers going around thinking they can just bully the citizens anytime they want? I bet the mayor, Billy Spencer, is full of pride right about now. This police force in Piketon, Ohio is only as corrupt as its mayor.
See you next week with another story of the law enforcement in Pike county, Ohio.
Wednesday, February 5, 2020
Living In Piketon Ohio: Baby Jane
"Tammy" was a little reluctant at first to tell her story. She needed some convincing that she would remain anonymous. Our interactions all took place on video chat. Three different times. Each one lasted about fifteen to twenty minute or so. I recorded each session and dictated the most important stuff from our conversations to put together this post. What you are about to read is her story.
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My parents moved me to Piketon, Ohio when I was six years old. We came from another state. So basically, I grew up here.
After graduation, I quickly moved in with a guy a few years older than me, against my parents wishes. They didn't like "Paul". He and I had been messing around the previous two years behind their backs. Only during my senior year did they figure it out.
Paul and I had our only child together about a year after I moved in with him. During our being together, he had a few run-ins with the law. Mostly just fighting, disorderly conduct and public intoxication. Minor things like that.
I thought he would slow down after "Jane" was born, but I was wishful thinking.
For the next three years, he continued to get into trouble off and on. When I finally got the nerve up to confront him about his behavior problems, something inside of him snapped and he did something he never had ever done before, and he hit me. More like, he punched me, then slapped me around a few times.
There was no way in hell I was going to tolerate that. I called the police.
I look back now and figure that the reason why he struck me was probably because my parents had moved back home, from where they took me away from when I was a child. They had only been gone for about six months before that night he hit me.
When the Pike county sheriff's deputies arrived, there were three on the scene, one of them took Paul aside and they talked privately for several minutes. Maybe fifteen or twenty minutes. Then Paul was placed in handcuffs and taken away to be charged with domestic violence.
Or so I thought.
The same deputy that took him aside was the one who brought him back the next morning. He dropped him off and then drove away. I was completely beside myself. How did he get out so fast?
He said nothing when he walked in the door. Not even an apology. It turned out that the domestic violence charge was never filed. Instead, just another disorderly conduct charge. I couldn't believe it. He said that he was going to take some kind of class for his drinking and his anger. At the same time, he told me that he enlisted me in a class for anger management too. I had no reason why he did that. I didn't even know that he could do that. But he said that if we were to get through this situation then we both needed to do our part. Again, I had no fucking clue as to what he was talking about. I did nothing to provoke him.
I tried to contact the deputy that brought him to the house but that conversation went absolutely nowhere. My attempts to talk to any other deputy went nowhere fast as well. I could get no answers to any of my questions. Something just didn't feel right.
But I decided to go to this so-called anger management class in Chillicothe one afternoon, by myself, I left Jane with Paul. Upon my return, I pulled up in the driveway and saw the sheriff's car parked out front. By the time I got out and was halfway to the door, the same deputy that brought him back that morning was walking out and adjusting his belt. Paul saw him off from the door. They both gave me a glance before turning away.
As I entered my home, I asked Paul what the deputy wanted. He walked down the hallway towards the bathroom and shrugged it off. Told me to mind my own business. I stood in the living room for a few moments with my hands on my hips and trying to figure out his response when I turned my eyes towards the kitchen counter and saw my camera sitting there next to the cough syrup.
I walked over to it to give a closer inspection. When Paul came out and walked into the living room, I asked him why my camera and cough syrup was on the counter. He simply replied, "I don't know." And left it at that. When I asked where Jane was, he said he put her to bed. I got a little upset because it was too early to put her to bed. I told him, "Great, now she's gonna be up all night."
He snapped at me and told me to shut the fuck up.
He plopped down on the couch and began to watch TV when I decided to check in on Jane. Standing next to her bed and watching her sleep. I couldn't get my mind off the camera or the cough syrup. When I went back out to the kitchen, I inspected my camera, looking for the chip. It was missing. "What did you do with the chip inside the camera?" I asked him. All he said was, "It's around here somewhere."
Suddenly, I got this really bad feeling in my gut, and crazy thoughts running through my mind. I felt like I wanted to vomit. I didn't want to think what I was thinking, but I couldn't help it. At that moment, all I wanted to do was leave that place. And leave Paul.
I had to buy my time. A week later, when he went to one of his meetings, I quickly packed mine and Jane's things and was gone out of there quicker than shit. I came back home to parts unknown, as far as you and the world is concerned. I'm surrounded by people who protect me from Paul. He won't come here because he knows he will come up missing if he does.
I still get sick to my stomach thinking about the possibility of anything happening to Jane. I tell myself that it didn't happen, but know it might have or, if it didn't, it could have because I think Paul would have "went there" as it were. I'm just trying to move on with my life and put everything behind me.
I wouldn't go back to Piketon, Ohio for all the money in the world.
The same deputy that took him aside was the one who brought him back the next morning. He dropped him off and then drove away. I was completely beside myself. How did he get out so fast?
He said nothing when he walked in the door. Not even an apology. It turned out that the domestic violence charge was never filed. Instead, just another disorderly conduct charge. I couldn't believe it. He said that he was going to take some kind of class for his drinking and his anger. At the same time, he told me that he enlisted me in a class for anger management too. I had no reason why he did that. I didn't even know that he could do that. But he said that if we were to get through this situation then we both needed to do our part. Again, I had no fucking clue as to what he was talking about. I did nothing to provoke him.
I tried to contact the deputy that brought him to the house but that conversation went absolutely nowhere. My attempts to talk to any other deputy went nowhere fast as well. I could get no answers to any of my questions. Something just didn't feel right.
But I decided to go to this so-called anger management class in Chillicothe one afternoon, by myself, I left Jane with Paul. Upon my return, I pulled up in the driveway and saw the sheriff's car parked out front. By the time I got out and was halfway to the door, the same deputy that brought him back that morning was walking out and adjusting his belt. Paul saw him off from the door. They both gave me a glance before turning away.
As I entered my home, I asked Paul what the deputy wanted. He walked down the hallway towards the bathroom and shrugged it off. Told me to mind my own business. I stood in the living room for a few moments with my hands on my hips and trying to figure out his response when I turned my eyes towards the kitchen counter and saw my camera sitting there next to the cough syrup.
I walked over to it to give a closer inspection. When Paul came out and walked into the living room, I asked him why my camera and cough syrup was on the counter. He simply replied, "I don't know." And left it at that. When I asked where Jane was, he said he put her to bed. I got a little upset because it was too early to put her to bed. I told him, "Great, now she's gonna be up all night."
He snapped at me and told me to shut the fuck up.
He plopped down on the couch and began to watch TV when I decided to check in on Jane. Standing next to her bed and watching her sleep. I couldn't get my mind off the camera or the cough syrup. When I went back out to the kitchen, I inspected my camera, looking for the chip. It was missing. "What did you do with the chip inside the camera?" I asked him. All he said was, "It's around here somewhere."
Suddenly, I got this really bad feeling in my gut, and crazy thoughts running through my mind. I felt like I wanted to vomit. I didn't want to think what I was thinking, but I couldn't help it. At that moment, all I wanted to do was leave that place. And leave Paul.
I had to buy my time. A week later, when he went to one of his meetings, I quickly packed mine and Jane's things and was gone out of there quicker than shit. I came back home to parts unknown, as far as you and the world is concerned. I'm surrounded by people who protect me from Paul. He won't come here because he knows he will come up missing if he does.
I still get sick to my stomach thinking about the possibility of anything happening to Jane. I tell myself that it didn't happen, but know it might have or, if it didn't, it could have because I think Paul would have "went there" as it were. I'm just trying to move on with my life and put everything behind me.
I wouldn't go back to Piketon, Ohio for all the money in the world.
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