The day after the anniversary of 9-11 I saw a man get shot by the police.
I was running late for work that day. I guess that isn’t totally 100% true, I planned to be late so I could go to Target and buy the new Star Trek movie on Blu-ray. I woke at the same time as always, 5:30. I checked my emails (no replies to my POF emails expounding on the many ways I am an amazing catch and really shouldn’t be on this damn pond at all.) only to find the usual spam and Groupon offers I am not going to avail myself of. I updated my podcast downloads. I said good morning to my 2 lovely cats. I scooped the multiple dumps the aforementioned cats left for me. I took a few vitamins and prescribed meds with a glass of orange juice. (ok, who am I kidding, I live alone and I drank it from the carton) I ate a couple bowls of cereal, probably something with marshmallow surprises. I took a shower as usual while listening to the Adam and Dr. Drew Podcast on my iPhone. (There is this awesomely placed shelf that ends just outside of the curtain)
It was the day after Pink Shirt Wednesday and no longer HUMP DAAAAYYYYYYYY!!!! I love that commercial. I dressed and left much later than usual. I went to Target as planned. I picked up the movie and then I decided to browse. I picked up a few other items, said hello to one particularly attractive Target employee and went up front to check out.
I stood behind a man in a suit that was buying a belt to wear, and he removed the tags and slipped it through the loops of his pants. He looked like I wish I looked in a suit. He was young, tan, tall, buff and had amazing hair. His suit was obviously off the rack and the shirt looked like it was ironed by someone that didn’t know how to iron, but I envied this guy none the less. The cashier flirted with him and I wanted to push him from behind into the garbage can and run out the door laughing maniacally. What I did was smiled at the cashier’s disappointment, swiped my debit card and walked slowly to my truck.
I drove up a different road than I usually take. I have only been in Arizona for 4 months and I am still figuring out the lay of the land, but I knew how to get to work. I took a route I had driven a few dozen times, but I was unaware of recent construction. The delay caused me to arrive in front of my building at @8:20. I was stopped at the traffic light. I have never made this light in the 4 months I have been here. Not once. Today was not going to be an exception. Red light.
As I sat there waiting for my green arrow I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. I glance to my right and I see a police officer running in the crosswalk with his weapon draw. He stops right in front of the Chili’s on the sidewalk. He raised his weapon and locked it in the shooters position. He was looking straight at the door of the restaurant and was shouting something I couldn’t hear. In retrospect, I should have turned off the podcast, lowered my window, something. Anything. What I did was sat there in shock.
A police car approached from both directions of University and blocked the forward flow of traffic. I sat there watching like it was a tv show or a movie…except it was 100% real. The officer continued to shout and a man walked from the front of the restaurant down the sidewalk about half way towards the officer. There were 2 other officers but I stayed focused on the one I had seen in the crosswalk. He continued to bark at the guy, who was fiddling with something in his hands. WHY THE HELL WAS HE DOING THAT? I may not be the smartest person you have ever met, but I know if the police have a gun drawn on you and they tell you to blow yourself, you better have mad yoga skills.
The officer continued to give orders and the guy continued to fiddle with whatever was in his hands. He drops his hands to his sides, obviously having made a decision, and charged the officer. He took one or two steps and the officer shot his gun. I counted 3 shots, but I am not 100% sure. The man dropped instantly, pitching forward. I remember thinking three things at that very second. 1) I am reasonably sure I saw red on his white shirt as he fell forward. 2) Why did he fall forward if he was shot in the chest? 3) Real life isn’t like a scene from a movie or TV show. Not even a little bit.
The next 6 hours are a mess in my mind. I drove away because I was freaking out. I pulled into the parking garage of my work and I called my friend (not sure what to call her anymore other than Pookie). I told her what I saw and we prayed. I called 911 and told them what I had seen and gave my information. I walked into work because I didn’t know what else to do. I sat at my desk for about 2 hours just staring at the dirty cloth walks of my cubicle. At some point I left and went home. I drove past the scene to leave and I remembered that I remember hearing helicopters overhead. I went home and laid down and tried to sleep. I heard my phone ring but couldn’t will my arm to raise and pick it up. I saw the caller id and didn’t recognize the number. I listened to the message and it was a detective. He came and took my statement and showed me some pictures. I read later that night that the guy had survived, but was in intensive care. He died a week later, the day before I am writing this.
I hope that anyone that reads this will pray for the families of both the man who lost his life as well as the officer and his family. He may have had all the training available, but he also ended a life. It was him or the guy who I later learned had a box cutter in his hand, but that isn’t the point. Most officers go their entire career without ever discharging their weapon. He isn’t one of those.
That’s my story and I’m sticking to it…
I've heard this in person and it's much better that way but still. Cray cray.