I might have mentioned the story about one of our ship’s sailors getting hauled off by the US Marshals for a gun charge, (or being related to a weapon used in a crime).
I remember those times in a awe inspiring light. I had always had thought that we had clean enough slates to start our new lives. I had a few laughable stories somewhat related to this idea.
Terrorist Bomber Resurfaces In US Navy
I ran into one of the most chill officers on our ship who was late getting back after traveling. He told me one of the most interesting stories, this is what I could remember of it. He had mentioned that he got detained at the airport after trying to check in for his flight. That officer, who I will call “Butter Blanco”, saw that the agent jumped on the phone rather quickly. Butter Blanco was standing off to the side and was visited by some members of law enforcement that escorted him off to a side room, for an interrogation.
I remind you that this was unusual for him and for most people in the know. This is a man who was selected for the US Naval Academy and had decent grades, largely steering clear of criminal activity. The LEOs identified themselves as representatives of the Secret Service, (or at least that was what Butter Blanco thought). They had asked him how often he traveled to Ireland, asked him if he was in contact with relatives in Ireland, and a myriad of questions that didn’t apply to him. It was mistaken identity. The man they were looking for was actually from Ireland and a few decades older than him. It should have been a dead giveaway that he was in uniform, with proper government orders, and a possessing a legit military ID card.
We got a good laugh at his misfortune. Someone even cracked a joke about bombings and who we could blame for it.
Sherriff’s Department or How I Learned To Move Quickly
One if the cooler people (Roadrunner) I got to work with in our ship’s galley was a rogue of sorts. I always had the feeling that he was into something but he always seemed to make it through okay. He was a cool dude that could handle his alcohol and didn’t pick fights. If you went to his house, he had a wife that was reported to be a lunatic. People could be hanging out and relaxing, just to see her pick a fight with Roadrunner. She would fly off the handle and tear her clothes off, throwing fists of fury. Roadrunner would apologize, but he seemed to smooth things over.
Roadrunner left the Navy honorably a year or so later. It was sad to see that dude leave. It wasn’t a few months later that I received two phone calls on the ship’s telephone from law enforcement. One was from the county sheriff’s department from his home area in his place of origin. They deputies were looking for more information about a crime under investigation. I remember another phone call from another police department not far from the other jurisdiction. A week later; Roadrunner, sounding hurried, called looking for another sailor still on the ship. (I didn’t mind forwarding the call or fetching the message for him). I told him about the two phone calls. He told me not to worry about it, he supposedly got it straightened out.
I imagine that he still might be out there somewhere, dodging the blue LED lights, and driving the backroads. Roadrunner, I have a beer for you when you make it around.
Who Is The Law? The One With The Best Attorney
A wayward sailor, who had grown despondent, somehow redeemed himself after a rough start. That sailor, “White Darkness”, already had a bit of a history. He had supposedly been kicked out of the submarine community for disappearance and drinking. White Darkness mentioned about traveling around half of the country while he disappeared and he might have spent some time in Canada. I know that he visited a dump of a strip club in my old stomping grounds, even though he wasn’t stationed down there.
White Darkness had a history of drunk and disorderly conduct. He was never caught, though. White Darkness even swam across rivers during the winter to avoid arrest. He was also adept at driving drunk, which is what got him into a pickle. WD told me that he was with his buddies behind the wheel of a car, drunk and high on some substance. He was driving through people’s yards. Funny that he got pulled over in someone’s yard. The policeman was a decent person who wanted to save their lives. The cop pulled the keys from the ignition. WD leaned over and grabbed the cop’s gun. WD short stroked the cop in the face with it, knocking him to the ground. WD knocked him out. He also called it in to the police.
When he went to court, it was more or less swept under the rug. Supposedly, it was self defense. In their state, cops weren’t supposed to get into people’s cars unless it was certain qualifying situations. WD took probation.
WD cleaned his life up. Two promotions, college degree, and largely sober now. He was a decent leader for knuckleheads.
I am sure that I am missing something, probably my taxi racing stories or motorcycle hell raising. I will write those at a later date.