Craziness in the Workplace
It started out like any other night of work. The mobile home park I was patrolling that night had been almost tranquil with little to no major incidents worth mentioning. It still amazes me that in the time it took that thought to cross my mind, things went to hell with me caught in the middle of it all. I’ll never understand what makes people act like the way that family had that chilled December night back in 2007. Why did they feel the sudden need to cause discomfort and impose their crude behavior upon others while those around them were trying to get some rest for the coming work week?
“Just another couple of hours to go in the shift,” I thought aloud to myself as I gazed at the clock on the computer monitor, preparing to head out yet again on another trek around the property. Just as I had gathered my work gear and had my hand upon the door to the security office, I heard my account called over the two-way radio strapped to my hip. “Go ahead,” I replied back to the dispatchers on the other end. The dispatchers filled me in about a noise complaint that had just been called in. To my dismay, it was a unit that was constantly problematic. The property management has had security keep a close eye on the unit as they believed that some drug trade or similar illegal acts were going on inside of the unit. Before I headed out to the unit, I asked to have the dispatchers relay the detail to the San Jose Police and asked to have them come out and assist, knowing already that if I even tried to contact this household by myself, nothing would be accomplished in terms of silencing the music.
It was a little past two in the morning at this time as I approached the unit, a narrow one piece modular home that was ill kept. The white paint surrounding the unit was faded and covered with grime, a small scraggly tree blocking the view into the unit’s front window where the kitchen was, the trim covering the supports beneath it bashed and beaten out of place. I could hear music being skipped through as the tenants presumably tried to find a song that they liked, the volume fluctuating as the music faded briefly between skipped tracks. The chilled night air was damp with a soft mist and a westward breeze that crept through my work jacket to chill my body. As I stood by waiting I was once again called to over the radio, being advised that the police had been notified of the situation. Since the call wasn’t a priority concern, I knew the police might take a while to get to the property to assist. I walked silently to a street corner a few units away from the offending unit as to not stir any trouble as I waited, silently taking notes about their behavior.
Half an hour had gone by and the music continued to go up and down between periodic shouts between the mother and daughter that resided inside the unit. The police still have not arrived. My hands have gone numb slightly from the breeze and mist. Soon residents neighboring the unit on the next street over began to come over and ask what was going on and why the music was still going. “I have already asked the police to come out to assist in getting the music shut off,” I calmly advised the woman who had just come out. “Unfortunately they have not arrived yet so you’ll just have to be a little patient for the time being.” This answer seemed to ease her mind for the time being so she returned home.
An hour has gone by since I was called out on this detail and the police were still nowhere to be found. My legs were aching from having stood in place the entire time while I kept eye on the unit. The same woman from earlier returned to voice another complaint about the continuing nuisance that their neighbors were causing. As I was once again filling her in about the current situation, I saw the woman’s house-mate coming down the side of the offending unit. A sense of fear crossed my mind as he hit the handle of a Maglight flashlight against the side as he yelled out to them, demanding that they shut the ******** music off. All hell seemed to have broken loose at that moment as the angered neighbor took action against the offending unit. The residents of the offending unit came out at the sudden actions of their neighbors and immediately got in their faces as the two groups began shouting at each other. I took up a position between the two groups of two to keep them from getting physical. “Go inside and shut your music off!” I shouted to the women from the offending unit, which only seemed to further agitate them. “I need help, the situation has escalated to a 415 verbal,” I called out over the radio to my dispatchers, still holding the two groups apart.
I guess those words were magical, because just as I called for help to my dispatchers and co-workers, the San Jose police arrived on scene. As the two groups saw the squad cars rolling up, they quickly separated. Taking a breath of relief, I went over to speak with the officers as they got out of their cars to advise them of which two were the instigators in this situation. A female officer went to speak with the two females from the offending unit while she instructed the neighbors and I to speak with the other officer about what was going on. After a short discussion with both groups, the police advised me that the family was issued a noise citation and they were told that if the police have to come out there again within a 12 hour period, someone would be going to jail and a fine would be issued. Both officers got into their vehicles and headed towards the property entrance just as a co-worker working one of our vehicle patrol beets arrived.
The peace and quiet didn’t last long. Not even two minutes after the police had cleared, my co-worker and I began to hear signs of a verbal argument between the daughter and mother of the offending unit. The daughter was shouting at the mother that she would be the one going to jail if the police came back out in what seemed to be a near tear-choked voice. Shortly after the two stopped fighting, the music went back up. The daughter had thrown open the back door of the unit and began shouting for her neighbors to blast their music, trying to both instigate further problems. My co-worker and I had already called back into our dispatchers to have the police sent back out to the unit for violating the terms of the citation just moments after the music returned.
It didn’t take long for the police to return when the second call went out. This time we were greeted by the two officers from earlier along with a shift supervisor and another officer who had been in the area when the call came in. The first two went into the offending unit, the female officer returning with the daughter and interviewing her on the porch while the male officer was inside the unit with the mother. Shortly after the police had arrived, they were dragging the daughter off in cuffs to the back of a squad car for drunk and disorderly conduct, the mother receiving a fine from the city for disturbing the peace. The shift supervisor for the police asked me to show him to the unit of the others involved in the first call so he could have a word with them. Cutting through the side yards to the next street over, we made contact with the neighbors as they were seated out on their porch. The supervisor advised them that if they had to come back out again, more arrests would be made in what seemed like an agitated tone.
Once again the police cleared from the property, my co-worker following them out. My head hung low as the mental fatigue of the incident took over. Slowly I made my way back to the security office to attempt to finish my report for the management in time for my 4:00 AM quitting time and finish returning the golf cart, radio, and other equipment to where they belonged.
This event has stuck with me ever since it occurred nearly two years ago. The family that caused all the chaos no longer resides there, having been evicted from the property the day after the incident occurred. I have dealt with several things since then. Troublesome teens with a disregard for the rules, suicide prevention, and the like; but none of the more recent events could come close to the filling my mind with fear that I felt that one cold December night of 2007 where I was caught in the middle of all the ensuing chaos. To be honest, I hope I never have to deal with such a hair-raising event ever again.
