Guest Author, Rod Duke,
is a friend who was a police officer
in the Chicago Housing Authority.
Since retired, he is writing a book
and has graciously allowed me
to share a sample of his work.
 |
| Rod Duke |
Hunter/Prey
In the 70’s, Mutual of Omaha sponsored a nature based television show called “Wild Kingdom.” My most prominent memory of the show is of a cheetah chasing a gazelle. There is a fluidity, and rhythmic dance between the hunter and prey as the chase ensues. The gazelle gallops quickly, zigzagging to change directions as the cheetah closes the distance with every stride. The cheetah effortlessly pounces onto the gazelle and brings it crashing into the dust. Claws grip sheering muscles and fangs sink into tensed sinew. The violent thrashing of the two forms become lost in the dirty haze as the hunter savors its fallen prey.
The chase was always my favorite part of policing. I wanted to rid my areas of patrol of its criminal element, but I didn’t want it to be easy. I didn’t care if they wouldn’t go quietly. Secretly, I wanted them to run. I silently dared them to. The younger they were, the more likely they were to try you. To a teenager, a twenty, to thirty year old is an “old man.” They think that they can out run you. They think that if they challenged your authority in a foot race that they would be victorious. Isn’t it the folly of youth that they believe that they are invincible, immortal?
The young never seem to fathom that their elders once believed that we were gods too, but eventually had to face their own mortality. It was the chase that returned my youth, my vitality, and my power!
Whenever I arrived on the scene, I’d access the body language of those I approached. Watching their hands for sudden movement and looking for cues to pinpoint who was considering flight.
Another telltale sign of a runner was when their face is turned towards you, but their body is slightly shifted in the direction of an exit. For this subject, I would slowly move towards the direction their body telegraphed and wait.
When their body lines up, the sprint starts and the hunt begins. I was always quick, but the Marine Corps and the police academy gave me endurance. While on foot patrol, we were exiting northbound from 4950 S. State Street and entering the playground that was centered between 50, XXXXX4947 S. Federal.
A lone teen wearing black from head to toe slowly started walking backwards as we were moving towards him. As unusual as it was for him to be standing in the middle of the playground at eight-ish in the morning, it was not a crime. However, his attire, which made him non-descriptive and his sudden decision to move way from us made him look suspicious.
Drug dealers and shooters are normally adorned in basic black. It is their uniform of the day. I smile as he slowly increases his backwards paces.
“Good Morning! Going somewhere?” I call out through my grin. He lets out a giggle as he returns my smile and turns his body slightly leftward and towards the gallery of the adjacent building.
We are within the first quarter of the playground, but he has trotted into the opposite edge and approximately 20 feet from the building’s opening. I have almost double that distance to close on him if I want to catch him.
I call out to him once more. “Hey, don’t make me chase you!” I shouted through my grin and slight chuckle, but he did not heed my warning. I liked that. His head and the rest of his body swiftly swiveled around as I pulled out my wooden baton and drew in a lung filling breath.
The chase was on. The first steps we took in sync but I watched his feet and doubled my stride to intercept him. He wasn’t as fast as he thought he was because I had made it through the playground before he was within ten feet of the breezeway.
I was feeling the burn in my thighs as I dug into the unyielding pavement. He could hear me closing in.
My prey tried to trick me as he entered the building. He stomped his feet and zigzagged to feint a decision to run towards the stairs and lead the chase upwards. I mimicked his movement and stomped as loudly as he did to let him know how much ground I’d gained and that I was upon him.
“You know I’ve got you don’t you!” My voice echoed as we dashed through the building and towards the next. “Ahhh! Ahhhhh! Was all he could utter.
“Come here! I growled as I leapt upon his back as he tried to change direction in the final seconds of our chase.
“Ahhhhhh! Momma!” He screamed as our bodies hit the moist grass.
Still riding his back, I held onto his coat collar.
“Boop.” Was the sound his head made when I lightly tapped him onto the back of it with my baton.
“I told you not to run from me didn’t I?”
I cuffed him and rolled him over. During my protective pat down I found a 50 pack of rock cocaine on his person.
This was a nice pinch that would carry us easily until lunch.
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