In Chapter 2 of my story titled “On A Full Moon”, I write about a police officer I arrested for Carnal Knowledge. This Series will be about crooked cops. Some were arrested while others were forced to resign or retire. These officers are real. What they did was awful. I despise crooked cops. I know most people do as well. I encountered street criminals I respected more than these slime balls. The only thing I will change are the names of the officers and officials.
Between the 1900’s and late 1960’s, many police agencies across the country sought and hired big, mean, bully type men as officers. Most were sadistic and enjoyed inflicting pain on others. When they were given power over citizens in their jurisdictions, they became society’s worst nightmare.
The Shreveport Police department was not immune to this practice. I will prove it in this series. Most were white males who harbored hatred for blacks, Jews, Asians and other minorities. As you will see, they were corruptible and brutal men.
He stood six feet in height and weighed in around 300 pounds. His head was large and eyes spread far apart. On first glance, you would think he did not have a neck. His head appeared to be screwed on his shoulders. He stuttered most of the time. His choppy speech pattern was a blend of crudely structured sentences limited by his inability to articulate. As we say in the South, he was dumb as a box of rocks.
To some officers he was respected for his racist brutality. Others, like me, disliked him but tolerated him. When I was a rookie on the streets of south Shreveport, I sometimes had the misfortune of reporting to him since he was a senior sergeant on patrol. Whenever he was my duty sergeant, I steered clear of him.
Slack Industrial Park in south Shreveport had its beginning in 1945. It operated under the original name of Shreveport Holding & Reconsignment Depot. It was the supply depot for nearby Barksdale Air Force Base. It was served by both K.C.S. and Texas & Pacific railroads.
A giant Red Oak has stood on the northern end of Slack Park for over 100 years. You can easily see it when traveling on St. Vincent Avenue near LA 3132 Inner Loop. When I was a rookie, it was common practice for officers to take breaks beneath its shade canopy. The tree had a name. Older officers called it The Machine Gun Tree because officers once unloaded a Tommy Gun into its trunk. A nice gravel road leads from St. Vincent Avenue directly to it.
While riding Cedar Grove one evening as the sun was setting, I bought a box of Church’s Chicken to dine alone under the old oak. I was beginning to eat when Sgt. Alvin Curtis (not his real name) turned down the gravel road heading my way. I was disappointed. I wanted to eat in solitude. I had no desire to listen to a dimwit bully stammering and stuttering while I savored my greasy yard bird. To make things worse, he pulled up driver to driver as most cops do. He was so close I could not open my door. He announced he was joining me for supper. He reached in his front seat and pulled out a large homemade sandwich. He proudly said, “Just picked this up at Sam’s Grocery on Line Avenue.”
I recognized the white butcher paper wrapped around one of Mr. Sam’s specially made bologna and hoop cheese sandwiches. Mr. Sam was of Italian descent and a great man. He worked hard in his small neighborhood grocery store. He opened for business at 5:00 a.m. and closed down for the night at 10:00 p.m. Sam loved cops. He made us feel welcome when we stopped by to visit, use his clean restroom or order a special sandwich. My training officer taught me proper protocol regarding Mr. Sam. He explained I should visit Mr. Sam when I worked in the area. Sit down and have a cup of coffee with him. Get to know him. Do not be one of the sorry leeches that eat free food and could not care less about the man. Respect him and he will respect you. Mr. Sam will always try to make you eat. He is Italian. When you walk to the register, he will turn down your money. Don’t let him every time. Lay your cash on the counter and walk out. He will call out to you but keep walking. Next time let him pay for your meal.
I knew Curtis was greedy and never paid for anything at Mr. Sam’s store. He was one of the leeches.
“Nice place to take a break, huh?”
Yes sir, it is.
“I’ve picked up some good ass here over the years.”
“Yeah, lots of parkers come out here at night. You like women?”
Yes sir, but I’m married.
“Well, would you tap a lady on the side?”
I don’t believe I would.
“Well, you’re a young rookie right now. When you get some time under your belt, you’ll screw some. No harm. Just let em give it to you. You need to come out here once it gets dark and check out the chicks that are out here screwing guys in the back seats of their cars. I have several I’ve been tapping for a few years now. It’s so easy to get them.’
“Well, you cut your lights off before you turn onto the gravel road and ease up on them but not too close. Don’t want them to hear you. Get your light and slip up to the window. Pop it on and catch her completely naked. Make em get out of the car and check her out. Make them give you their driver license. Look and see if they have different last names and look for wedding rings. Most of them are married and out here screwing their best friend’s old lady. Once you learn if they are married to someone else but out here f…….g around on them, you got her. Write down her name, address, place of work and her phone number. Next day call her. Tell her to meet you here to talk about what she was doing. She may try to give you the slip but don’t let her off. Tell her you will just swing by her house and have a nice little chat with her husband. I promise she will burn up the roads getting out here to see you.”
“Dammed right! About a year ago I rolled up on a big black Cadillac. The windows were steamed up so I yanked the back door open and popped my light on them. Man let me tell you she is fine! Tall, blonde, long legs, large tits and I mean some fine ass. She is the piano player at a church across town and he is the dammed preacher. They are both married and she’s been giving it to me since. It just took one call to her house with her husband there to get her to come meet me. She will do anything I tell her. I mean anything. You understand?”
Yep, sure do. Look Sarge, I need to swing by Sam’s and use the restroom. I’ll catch you later.
He wanted to brag some more but I could not take it. I tossed my box of chicken in the floorboard and off I drove. I lost my appetite and hated him from that day forward. If I stayed on the force, I knew I would one day burn his ass.
I envisioned a lovely, blonde lady crying as she was forced to have sex with this pig. I suspected the crying turned this sick bastard on even more.
I endured this knowledge for several years. I will not leave you hanging on this sick story. Rest assured. His day comes in a future story.
When I finally retired from S.P.D., I carried a heavy burden of baggage, unresolved conflict and anger. Today I realize I needed professional counseling back then. Instead of seeking help, I kept it all in. Finally one day I decided to write it all down. I wanted to vent and purge my soul. I could not trust anyone with the things that haunted me. I wrote a giant book beginning with my childhood all the way through my life. It was not for publication. It was filled with highly flammable topics. Writing that book did purge my soul. I felt the burdens lift off my shoulders. I actually changed into a better man, husband and father. Now 20 plus years later, I find myself writing about those burdens once again. I write this time to share with others so they may understand the deepest secrets and inner workings of police work. It is not limited to S.P.D. I am sure these things happen to other officers in other departments.