Murphy’s Law 101: Everything That Can Go Wrong, Will

I finished writing up a warning as I listened to a call coming in over the air. There was a guy who had made suicidal statements and the family asked us to go check on him. I was a minute or two down the road on a traffic stop, so I decided to clear the stop and head to the call. It sounded pretty routine.

The motor inn he was at was more of a rooming house than an actual inn, as people lived there year round. This particular motor inn was laid out in rows of one-room units. It looked like a dark brown self-storage facility for people. The guy we had to go check on was on the end of the last row around the back of the complex.

No Response

I was the first to arrive as the sun began to set. I parked my cruiser at the corner of the building which put my engine block at a 45 degree angle from the guy’s front door and his one and only window. As I knocked on the door I casually called out that it was the police and we were just there to check on him and see how he was doing. There was no response.

Quietly, I tried the knob and found it was unlocked so I gave it a turn. The solid wood door swung on its creaky hinges revealing the cluttered 12×12 single room and an open bathroom door straight ahead. I called out again as peered in. There he was, fully clothed sitting on the toilet with a black pump-action shotgun under his chin.

The Unraveling Of Everything

With both hands on the shotgun, he turned his head to his left, looked at me, and told me to get-the-bleep-out. I reminded him in a superhero voice that it was the police and that I was there to help him, but I had apparently mistaken him for someone who cared. He shouted at me a second time as he stood up with the shotgun still in his hands.

I drew my pistol and backed up. He turned and leaned the shotgun against the bathroom wall, marched toward me, and slammed the door shut. I retreated to my cruiser to get my rifle and that’s when everything started to unravel in a comedy of errors.

Professor Fumble Door

After fumbling with my keys using my left hand (my right held my pistol) I was finally able to unlock the cruiser door. Crouching on one knee, I reached in to hit the button to release my rifle from the vertical mount. Nothing happened. I tried several more times hitting the button like a maniac. Then it dawned on me that the button didn’t work unless the key was in the ignition and in the ‘on’ position. With some effort, I stuck the key in, turned it, and released the rifle. I pulled the rifle out and prepared for a tactical barrel roll but the single-point sling had gotten wrapped around the rifle rack and stopped me short. Now, with one eye on the armed suicidal guy’s front door, I wrestled with the sling to free it from my cruiser’s grasp.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I untangled the sling and was able to get the rifle out. I holstered my pistol and went to slip my support arm and head through the loop of the sling. Nope. I couldn’t fit. Apparently a member of the Lollipop Guild from Munchkin Land had been the last person to use that rifle (the rifles were assigned to the cruisers, not the officers). “Screw the sling!” I thought as I took cover behind my engine block.

By this time, the sun was down and it was growing darker. In a stroke of genius, I managed to turn on my spotlight and point it at the front of the guy’s room to use the light to create some concealment. The only problem was, my cruiser wasn’t running so I started a drain on the battery without even thinking about it.

Taking Its Toll

At some point during all this, the situation was relayed to Dispatch and backup units and a supervisor arrived. The following four or five hours involved an extremely uncomfortable position, kneeling on small rocks in the parking lot, my spotlight dying since the cruiser wasn’t running, and the suicidal guy coming and going from his picture window with the shotgun in his mouth. Hours later, the ordeal eventually ended with him surrendering to negotiators.

No one got hurt, but man did a lot of things go wrong. The only thing I did right that night was park my cruiser in a good position. Everything else was a total poop show.

Here’s the quick version of my screw ups. I did not:

• Familiarize myself with how to get my rifle out when the cruiser was off. (It was always running when I did my cruiser checks).
• Try on and adjust the rifle sling at the beginning of my shift
• Secure the sling so it wouldn’t get caught on things (#rubberbands)
• Wait for backup before I made contact with a suicidal guy (wicked dumb)
• Think to leave my cruiser running while the spotlight was on
• Have a Go Bag to sustain me on an unexpected, long duration call
• Better my position and/or increase my distance.

Of all the dumb things I did and that went wrong that night, the number one stupid thing was making contact by myself. I can’t overemphasize how idiotic that was. Granted, we didn’t have any information at the time that he was armed, but that’s not an excuse to go it alone. Don’t ever do that unless there is active killing going on.

So, here’s the lesson:

• Murphy’s Law 101: Everything that can go wrong, will.
• Fortune favors the prepared.
• Prep your own gear or your shared gear (like rifles and plate carriers) at the beginning of your shift.
• Plan your approach.
• Wait for backup.
• Pretty much do the opposite of what I did.

We get untold numbers of these kinds of calls every week. Don’t take the next one for granted. Don’t assume nothing bad will happen because nothing ever has (at your PD).

And for heaven’s sake, stay tactical, my friend.

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