Hot pursuit on the Austin Police ridealong

by: Robin Cravey

Tue Feb 12, 2008 at 00:49 PM CST

It was a Saturday in Austin. At four o'clock I parked my scooter in the lot at the police substation on Springdale. My contact was Officer Roque Martinez, nickname "Rocky." He was a rookie-less than two years on the force-and for the next six hours he was going to be my guide to the underside of the city.

First I had to go into the substation and sign a form. I did.

Rocky and I climbed into the patrol car and cruised over to Charlie sector, the East Side. Driving a taxi for Roy's in the seventies, I knew these streets and alleys like the back of my hand. I had carried groceries into every kitchen from the interstate to Pleasant Valley. And I had hauled drunks out of every one of the bars, too.

Routine calls

As we prowled, Rocky punched license plate numbers into the computer on his dash, looking for BOLOs, 'be-on-the-look-outs'.

Robin and Rocky

Our first call was to a house on Willow Street. A tattooed man, shirtless, had been reported arguing with someone. We found him, and his belligerent beer-drinking friend, on the sidewalk. Tattooed man was upset and shaky, his friend aggressive. Backup arrived. Rocky put tattooed man in an ambulance for treatment for drug reaction. Backup took belligerent friend downtown for public intoxication. Rocky and I headed to the substation, where he wrote a report and turned in evidence. It took a while.

The evening wore on. We answered a call to a fight with ten people involved, but by the time we arrived we found only a woman with high blood pressure and her rowdy friends. An ambulance arrived to treat her high blood pressure. She had a warrant, so once her treatment was done we took her downtown.

Night fell. We answered a call for illegal dumping in an alley, and listened to an elderly lady talk about her neighbors. We answered a call to a car stalled on the interstate, and gave assistance. We answered a call to a car illegally parked, but then the evening took an interesting turn.

Hot pursuit

On the radio, the dispatcher was broadcasting a pursuit. An attempted vehicle burglary had been seen at Dell Children's Hospital, and the burglars had fled in a black Ford Expedition, an officer following in an unmarked car. The Expedition was heading south on Airport, heading west on Manor, south on Stafford, west on 22nd, south on Chestnut. It seemed to be zigzagging toward us. Rocky drove north, moving to intercept.

I clenched my teeth and stared at the road ahead. Rocky killed his siren. I glanced at him.

"I'm no longer in pursuit," he said. "I'm just following." But we followed closely.

Through the radio came terse reports of our chase: "Northbound 60 miles per hour; northbound 70 miles per hour; northbound 80 miles per hour."

We kept up. The Expedition veered off at the Airport exit, swerved south on airport, swerved south again onto Parkwood. We jerked right and eased our speed.

By mistake our quarry had veered into a neighborhood laid out like a maze. Sure enough, we caught up with him in seconds. He had turned down a cul-de-sac, jumped a curb, and come to a stop nose down in the slope of a grassy yard.

Apprehension

Rocky threw open his door and stepped out of the car, drawing his sidearm. I looked around me and saw officers braced beside their patrol cars, pointing their handguns at the Expedition. The glare of flashing lights danced across the brick faces of the houses in the quiet cul-de-sac. And every minute another patrol car pulled in behind us.

I thought it best to remain in the car until the situation stabilized.

An officer shouted an order for the suspects to get out of the Expedition. After a minute the front doors opened and two people got out, male and female. On orders, they faced away from us and slowly backed up toward us. They were teenagers!

Once they were handcuffed, a swarm of officers approached the Expedition with guns poised, but there was no one else inside.

Aftermath

Now the officers began to relax. They stood in knots talking, excited and satisfied. I stepped out into the night air and began to look around. Close to a dozen patrol cars clogged the cul-de-sac.

The property theft detectives opened the back of the Expedition and went through garbage bags full of electronic equipment and other stuff.

Some of the brass showed up. Sgt. Hicks stood and talked with me. Seems a vehicle burglary wave had been sweeping the Hospital parking lot, and so apprehending these two suspects raised the hope that the burglaries would cease or at least slow down. Besides, there was a BOLO on the Expedition.

Rocky had to head back to the substation to file his report. After that, it was time for me to call it a night. Rocky and I shook hands, and he grinned, "Man, you sure picked a good night to ride out!"

(crossposted at www.robincravey.com)