In around November of 1982, I lay sleeping soundly in the spare room at my brother's house, having fallen asleep just glad to be out of the Program and looking forward to getting a new start in life.
When I heard my mother's voice calling my name "Virginia, Virginia. Wake up. It's time to go now." I thought I was just having another one of
those dreams. The scene before me when I opened my eyes was all too surreal, but I knew just the same that it was quite real. There stood my mother and a couple of other adult figures around my comfy bed. When the lights went on, I recognized one of them as a Straightling from the parent group in Sarasota. The other I didn't recognize at all.
The plan, of course, was to catch me unawares and bundle me off to the Program again. THAT was not going to happen, even if my brother and sil hadn't woken up and come out of their room to see what the ruckus was all about. So my choices were then limted to physical assault or any other suggestion. When my sil suggested calling the police, it seemed like the best option. At least I was pretty sure I could slug the cop or go for his weapon and buy a little time in police custody and, maybe, find some more options.
Fortunately for me, Stone Mountain or Decalb County police (I don't remember which) were totally uncorrupted by the Program that had been taking root in Cobb County on the other side of Atlanta. All I had to do was give my side of the story when asked.
When the cop first got there, my mom said something charictaristically cold and below the belt. I don't remember what it was, but she did get a rise out of me and I started to let her have it (verbally). The cop told us to stop it. He was right, of course. So my mom thanks him and proceeds to gear up in that signature shrill tone of hers and proceed with whatever manic rant she'd been rehersing on the drive up from Florida.
This officer responded, without hesitation, by placing his 6'+ self between her and me, leaning in on her (towering, really. neither one of us is over about 5'2) and asking her if she'd heard and understood his instruction and if she wanted to be arrested! Talk about flipping the script! Her eyes went wide as tea saucers as her jaw audibly popped open (or maybe it was her dentures slipping). This brought tears of joy and relief to my eyes. Not my mother's obvious distress. That was only amusing. But that, like Dad always told me, I really could count on a cop when I was in over my head.
Once he'd determined who was and was not family, ejected the strangers and heard from all four of the rest of us, he informed us that, in Georgia, 17 was the default age of emancipation. Mom tried to convince him that Florida jurisdiction applied cause I was officially a runaway in that state. "No dice", said this officer. "You're in Georgia and I am an officer of the law here. This young lady is an adult under Ga. law and if she doesn't want to go with you, I can't make her."
So the cop asked if there was anything else he could do and we said no, thank you very much, I think we're alright now. Then he started to leave and Mom missed her que and thought she was going to hang around. My brother told her to go (by then, it was around 1AM and we all had to be up and on the go starting at around 6) she
again tried to play that she had some claim to be there because I was her minor child or cause she was kin or something. Again, the cop reminded her who's house and jurisdiction she was in and asked her if she wanted to leave the house voluntarily or with a little help.
You want to know just how into the drink my mom was? On the way to the door, she turns to my brother and says "Why do you leave your doors open at night. Any crazy person could just walk right in while you're sleeping!" "Yeah", said my brother, "they just did!". Absolutely no sense of irony whatever on the part of the deeply brainwashed.
I have to say, this cop saved me more sorrow and heartache than he could possibly have known at the time. He and several other area officers who I met in the course of subsiquent kidnapping attempts, did more to bouy my faith in law enforcement than anyone ever has. He was walking proof that there are still some good ones. So later in life, whenever I had contact with Florida cops, it would always bring on a panic attack, which would always prompt a response from them. Purely because I had seen with my own eyes that some of them could be trusted, I was able to keep a grip and not make it any worse.
It's heartbreaking and frightening to me that SWAT team members and jugheads have switched sides.
As grateful as I am to those good cops still in the ranks, I have to ask you to do just one more task. This one's harder, but I think you'll agree it's your duty. You good and faithful officers MUST, if you love your profession, respect your uniform and know decency, you MUST take these rogue officers into custody for the crimes they are commiting. All that is necessary for evil to prevail is for good people to do nothing. These are your dogs. You have to call them off. No one else can, except by armed rebellion.
He who laughs lasts
--Crazy Mac
