Chapter Ten
Calls with interesting outcomes
If you get a
couple of cops in the room and get them started, you will undoubtedly hear some
stories, we all have them.
One time on
Graveyard shift, Norm and I responded to a call of a bat in the house.
It was a
quiet night, so we responded to see if we could help.
The caller
took us into their bedroom where the bat was flying around trying to find a way
out.
It took us a
bit, the bedroom was small and the bat was fast; but we managed to throw a
blanket over it. We took it out; we
didn’t think about it at the time, but we released it (now, we would have held
on to it and had it tested for rabies – no one was bit, so it wasn’t a danger to
them.)
The next
night we come to work and to find a front page headline in The Dalles Chronicle,
Batman and Robin are on the job. They
then had a short article about the incident – didn’t name us.
We got ribbed
about that for a few days.
We were
working day shift when a call came into the 9-1-1 center. The caller was screaming that they were
going to kill her. The dispatcher tried
to calm her down to get more information, but all she would say is they were
going to kill her.
She did get
the address and put it out over the radio. It was on West 3rd St,
across from the Veterinarian’s office.
We responded
lights and sirens; one officer coming in from the east the other from the
west. Hearts pounding, adrenaline
flowing and trying to figure out just what we would have to do when we got
there.
The caller
then screamed that they had killed her.
Wasco County was advised as was the State Police. Sirens were blaring from all over.
We arrived on
the scene drawing our weapons and ready to defend ourselves and take down the
suspect(s).
What we found
were some Mexicans who were in town for the cherry harvest. They had decided to rent a house instead of
staying in the housing in the orchard.
One of them
was holding a knife with blood dripping off of it when we arrived. There were four of them; we told the one who
had the knife to drop it and all of them to hold their hands up, they spoke
enough English to understand that and did so.
The one with
the knife was standing over a goat that he had just killed. They had dug a pit in the front yard and were
going to barbecue it. One of them spoke
good English and we told him it would be advisable to do this somewhere else,
next time; there would be less drama.
We went to
the neighbor and tried to tell her that what they did was legal, she wouldn’t
hear it; she expected them to be arrested and told us so.
When we
wouldn’t arrest them she said she would be talking to the Chief the next day –
if she did he didn’t say anything to us.
The Dalles
City limits were not straight by any means, sometimes you actually had to go out
of the city, through the county, to get back in the city.
There were
some areas where two houses were in, while a house in between them was out. It wasn’t unusual to have one side of the
street inside the city limits while the other side was out, for several
blocks.
I was driving
down one of those roads, where the outside was an orchard. I was flagged down by a Mexican.
He was very
upset, because there was a man on the property that was drunk, cussing and being
very obnoxious, around the complainant, but more particularly his wife and
children.
He was upset
about it and wanted something done.
I explained
to him that the orchard and camp was outside the City Limits, but I would have a
deputy come up to talk to him.
Too be honest
with you, the first thing I thought of was, “what do you think is going to
happen when you are living in orchard housing?”
That comment
didn’t come out of my mouth and immediately I thought, this man and his family
have a right to live in an environment that is free from that kind of
behavior.
I drove by
the next day and saw him talking to some others. I asked him if the man had been taken care
of, he said yes, the deputy came by then talked to the Orchardist, who kicked
him out.
During Cherry
Harvest we have anywhere from 5000 to 10,000 workers and their families come
into our area.
These men and
women, for the most part, stayed in the camps.
They worked hard, it isn’t an easy job, but they can make good money
following the harvest.
Most go back
to Mexico and are able to live comfortably with the wages they earned during the
summer.
In the city
we have very little contact with the workers, the biggest problem we had when I
was on the streets was workers causing accidents.
People who
have cars for sale will park them along the roads heading to the orchards with
for sale signs on them.
There are
always some young men who decided they wanted to buy a car with their
wages. Many of them had never driven
before, or had very little experience.
Occasionally
we would have fights, but not very often and when it did happen it was usually
started by one of the local citizens.
The other
problems we had in the mid-70’s, after the law on domestic violence changed to
mandatory arrest if we had evidence to do so.
Many of the men thought, that as the man of the house, when their wife
didn’t obey them, they could assault them.
Eventually, they learned not to commit the assaults, at least not in our
community.
However, even
those calls were few and far between.
For having that many people come into our area, they created very little
problems and were vital to the health and vitality of the community.
But there
were years when there was insufficient workers and the orchards were looking for
help.
I can
remember one night at 0130 I stopped three teenagers because they were violating
curfew. They were in a business area and
acting suspicious.
I asked them
why they were out so late. ‘Nothing to
do in this town’ was the answer. They
couldn’t find jobs so slept in and then were just hanging out at night.
I told them
that several of the orchardists needed workers, they sneered and said they would
never work with those people. Basically
it was ‘beneath’ them.
Despite my
first ‘response’ to the man who was upset, I do have a lot of respect for the
workers. They work hard, help our
citizens and cause little problems.
Shortly after
moving to The Dalles one of my co-workers at Safeway needed workers in her
cherry orchards. The orchard was old and
had not been taken care of before they purchased it. They had some Mexicans come by to see if they
would bring their crew in to harvest the orchard.
Because it
had not been cut back it would be easy to pick the fruit, so they all
declined.
The co-worker
was asking around to see if anyone wanted to help out. I mentioned it to Carla and she said she
would. She would take our oldest
daughter with her and helped for a couple of weeks.
Now a good
worker could pick enough cherries to make almost a hundred dollars a day.
Because of
the age and condition of the orchard, and the fact that Carla was not real
experienced she didn’t make anywhere near that much, but she did get it up to
$25 a day, which wasn’t too bad.
One day I
decided since I had the day off, I would go up with her, figuring if she made
$25, the two of us should make at least another $15-$20.
It was the
last day, when we arrived they invited us up to the house to have breakfast with
them. Instead of starting work at 0500,
we ended up out there at 0900 and stopped work early.
Now even IF
we had worked the entire time, I wouldn’t have made up the additional money,
that is hard work!
Many of the
orchardists have a dinner where, at the end of the season and on the last day,
they have all the workers gather and the orchardists cook and serve them.
We have
friends with an orchard. Their daughter
was the same age and the best friend of our oldest daughter.
She was out
at the orchard the day they would be having the dinner. I got a call of apology because they were
enlisting her help to serve the workers and hadn’t talked to us about it.
Neither Carla
nor I had any problems with that, it was a good experience. These men and women work hard and deserve
recognition for that hard work. While I
know orchardists show it in many ways and this is just one of them, it is a good
way to finish off the season with a thank you.
One of the
things we used to be asked to do is help get trucks with large items on a
trailer get to where they need to be.
One Sunday
morning I was assigned just such a task.
They had a
large transformer coming into town on railroad flat bed. It was to be transferred over to a flatbed
trailer that would be towed by two semi-trucks and a push vehicle, a pickup with
a bar on the front that was hooked up to the back of the trailer.
We had
several blocks to go on a side street; we would have to cross the railroad
tracks at Monroe St., go up that street to 2nd and then out 2nd to
the Big Eddie substation. A deputy would
meet us at the City limits and escort them the rest of the way.
The trailer
had small balloon tires all along both sides of the trailer. The speed was about 2 miles an hour.
Things were
going well until we got halfway over the railroad crossing.
I heard the
train whistle, looked down the rails and saw a train coming down the tracks,
slowing down as best they can, and blowing their horn; I knew it couldn’t stop
in time.
The trailer
was over the tracks, the trucks sped up as best they could, but the chance of
them making it was nil.
There is an
old story.
A man was
applying for the position of a switchman in a rural area. There was a house for him and his family to
live in while assigned there.
During the
interviewed he was given a number of scenarios.
One of which
was, he got word that there were two trains on the track coming at each
other. It was 0200 hours, dark.
What was he
going to do? He said, I would go out to
the tracks and wave the red lantern so that both engineers would see it and
stop.
He was told
that they were going too fast, and wouldn’t be able to stop in time.
The man said,
then, I would get on the telegraph and try and get word up the line, both
ways. The lines are down, now what are
you going to do?
I would call
my wife to come out of the house.
Why in the
world would you do that? he was asked.
Because I
would want her to see the most spectacular train wreck in history, was his
answer.
I called on
the radio to John, who was my Sergeant at the time; I said we are going to have
a huge accident in just a moment.
The train
kept getting closer, the trucks were using all the power at their disposal, but
it wasn’t going to be enough.
They managed
to get the trailer off the tracks, but the pickup push rig was still on the
tracks when the Engine arrived and hit it.
The driver
stayed in the cab until the trailer was off the tracks then dived out onto the
ground; uninjured.
The truck was
demolished; the force of the accident tore his push rod off the trailer. The trailer was not damaged.
The train
finally stopped, about half a mile up the tracks.
We had some
upset people.
The
representative of the moving company was livid.
The drivers were livid, with the one in the pickup much more so, (he was
banged up a bit but okay.)
The conductor
came up, out of breath from running to the scene, and he was just as mad.
I stood in
between them, trying to get them both to settle down.
The conductor
was yelling that the moving company should have notified the railroad that they
would be crossing the tracks so they could have delayed all train traffic.
The rep, for
the moving company, said he had both the day before and that morning when they
started moving the transformer.
John had
arrived at the time, we talked about it and figured it was miscommunication of
some kind and we didn’t need to get in the middle of it.
The
transformer stayed on the side of the street for a while. I was due to get off work, so I passed along
the assignment to day shift and went on home; thankful that the accident hadn’t
been a whole lot worse!
Copyright
November 13, 2017 Art Labrousse
---------------------------------------------
Mathew 10:8
KJV “Nor scrip for your journey, neither two coats, neither shoes,
nor yet staves: for the workman is worthy of his meat.”
For the
workman is worth of his meat.
No matter
what the job is, unless it is illegal, workers need to be respected for their
work.
It doesn’t matter
if it is the Chairman of a large cooperation or the janitor that works in the
building.
If they are
doing their job well and as to the best of their ability they deserve
respect.
Too many
people equate value with the size of a salary, or the degrees that are necessary
to obtain a job.
Yet, no
matter what the job, even the most minimal, has a reason for being. At least in most cases.
Some jobs are
worth more as far as responsibility, authority and job requirements, but without
those ‘lesser’ jobs it would be more difficult to accomplish the goals of
employer.
I
Corinthians 12:13-15 KJV “For by
one Spirit are we all baptized into one body, whether we be Jews or Gentiles,
whether we be bond or free; and have been all made to drink into one
Spirit.
14 For the body is not
one member, but many.
15 If the foot shall say,
Because I am not the hand, I am not of the body; is it therefore not of the
body?”
Just as we
need to respect the service of our fellow Christians, no matter their mission,
so we must give respect to those that wait on our table, check out our groceries
or any other duty performed on our behalf.
Even those
that pick cherries for a living.
Later, Art
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