April 10, 1988

A day that I will never forget. It started out like any other day on patrol in the small little town of Graysville, AL. I was on patrol and it was a normal boring Sunday. Nothing ever happened on Sunday. I could go a whole shift and never receive a call. Sunday was the only day that I worked 2pm-10:30pm. The normal evening shift guy was off on Sunday and Monday so I filled in. At about 5pm, I was driving down this long stretch of road called Brookville School Road. It ran from, surprise, Brookville School down a hill to Cherry Avenue. Off to the side of Brookville School Road were short little illegal access roads where locals would dump garbage and shoot guns and drink and do drugs. Well, as I was going down the hill, I saw a 78 Ford Fairmont kinda halfway up one of these roads with it's hood raised, the universal sign for car trouble. I pulled in behind the car and noticed two occupants in the car that I could see. A driver and a front seat passenger.

I thought they were broke down and pulled behind them to see if they needed help. Standard procedure was to call in the tag number and ask for information on the vehicle. I turned on my police lights and proceeded to call dispatch to run the tag number when all of a sudden, a nickel plated revolver was tossed out of the vehicle from the driver's side window. I immediately got out of my car and drew my weapon. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a guy running through the woods away from the scene. (Later found out this guy was suspect #3 and was in the woods taking a piss when I drove up. That was why I only saw the two in the car) Anyway, I ordered the driver out of the car and placed him face first on the ground. I then went to the passenger side and as I was coming from the rear, I could see that the passenger had the glove compartment open and had his "works" laid out on it so that he could "fire up" (inject dope).

As I told him to get out of the vehicle, he opened the door about 8 inches and said, "Fuck you", and backhanded an object towards me. I recognized it after a moment but was shocked to be seeing one in a civilian setting. What he had thrown towards me was a WWII pineapple hand grenade. As a former Marine, I recognized it and started to hit the deck. Someone had dumped a huge roll of old carpeting on the side of this little access road and that was the cover I dove for. But, it was too late. It exploded as I was halfway to the ground and blew dirt, rocks, and shrapnel into my face and upper body. I hit the ground hard and my adrenaline was going about 1000mph. I knew I was hurt but did not know how bad as I could feel no pain. However, there was a steady stream of blood running down from my chest into my pants, from my elbow to my gun hand, and from my forehead into my eyes.

I popped right back up off the ground and the guy in the passenger side started to throw another one. I saw the pin fly across the interior of the car. At the time I was carrying a Colt Gold Cup .45 ACP National Match pistol that had been accurized with the Bar-sto barrel throated and polished to fire one round super accurately. The CCI-Speer 200 grain jacketed hollow-point bullet. I could shoot one inch groups off-hand all day long with this gun and that bullet. I had practiced enough that I could empty a clip in less than 2 seconds. At the time, I was a competition shooter involved in IPSC type shooting which simulated combat shooting and I never missed. Anyway, I reverted back to instinct and I shot. I never will forget the sound of the impact. I swear the thud of the bullet hitting him in the face was distinctly audible. The bullet entered his face slightly inward of his eyesocket almost on the upper bridge of his nose. It was like turning off a light switch. All motion ceased. Well, he dropped the second grenade inside the car and it went off, destroying the interior of the car as well as the guy that dropped it.

I then got back on the radio and dropped a "double ought" (10-00) which is kinda like a police emergency call telling the dispatcher to send all available help my way. My dispatcher asked me was I okay, and I had to look at my "front" to see because again, with the adrenaline pumping like crazy, I could not feel anything. I told the dispatcher that I was bleeding pretty badly and to send me some medical help. The driver of the car never moved and I proceeded to place him in the rear of my car after kicking the shit out of him.

My car was severely damaged from the blast of the first one, as was the offenders car. Also the offenders car was pretty much destroyed from the interior blast of the second grenade. Within 5 minutes, the place was crawling with police officers from everywhere. News reporters were also on the scene as they had been in the area scanning for stories on their police scanners. Inside what was left of the car we found a LAW anti-tank weapon, a sub-caliber device for a LAW rocket, a MAC10 sub-machine pistol with full auto capabilities, 2000 rounds of ammunition, and some assorted pistols and revolvers.

The hand grenades were real enough but had been constructed with old WWII hand grenade bodies that people use as paperweights and can be bought at any Army-Navy store. The bodies were real but the explosive material was taken out. They had put black powder back in the bodies and put training fuses on them, essentially recreating what they originally were. According to the driver, they planned to rob a local crack house and were doing dope in order to get the nerve up to complete the robbery.

The guy I shot was well known as he had killed a 15 year old kid at West Jefferson Lake the previous summer. The kid had stood up to a group of drunks that were giving his 12 year old sister a hard time. The bad guy went to his vehicle and pulled out an AR15 and shot the kid through the neck.

Believe it or not, he was out on unsupervised probation because of an extremely crooked Judge, Jack Montgomery, when he and I crossed paths. The newspaper at the time reported that I was killed. I called them and told them I was not. They cleared that up but reported that I had shot the guy with a rifle. I had to call and correct them on that as well. I had sustained blast injuries to my face, upper torso, and arms that still plague me to this day. From time to time a little grain of sand or dirt will work it's way to the surface of my skin and be painful as hell until it gets taken out. At first I had to go back to the Doctor fairly regularly to get the pieces taken out, but as the years progressed, I had to go back less and less.

Anyway, the driver and the guy that ran went to trial in Federal Court (possession of the weapons they had was a federal crime). The driver's Mom actually caught me during the proceedings and begged me to testify that her son did nothing and knew nothing about what was going down. I told her that I would tell the truth but would not lessen nor add to his actions

After the trial was over and I had been raked through the coals for my actions, the other two guys were found guilty and sentenced to 43 years in the Federal lockup for "Attempted Murder of a Police Officer". I was walking to the elevator afterwards, lost in my own thoughts when I heard a commotion going on behind me. As I turned around, the girlfriend of the guy I shot jumped on me and literally beat the shit out of me before I could react or the court bailiffs could get her off. She was arrested and taken away. Every year I get notifications in the mail that the other two are coming up for parole. Every year they get denied that parole. I wonder how I would react if they got out and I ran into them? (I purposefully left most names out of this story as the families of those involved still live in one of the local communities)