Horsing Around

Over the years I've seen cops do many things that I doubt are in their job description. For example, I was following a cop a couple of weeks ago. He turned his lights on and pulled over behind a car stopped on the side of the road. A younger person was standing in the rain next to the vehicle. It looked like they had a flat tire.
I supposed the cop would stay behind the car with his amber lights on, protecting the young driver from traffic while the driver changed their tire.
It didn't take me long to run my errand, and I was headed back in the other direction. The squad car was still behind the stranded vehicle. It warmed my heart as I drove by, and the cop was changing the tire in the rain while the young driver looked on. The scenario reminded me of an incident years ago.
I missed a call from my daughter at 6:30 in the morning. Of course, such a call is something that immediately puts any dad on edge. Annie was a student at Winona State University, doing her student teaching in Caledonia, Minnesota – a fifty-minute drive from her home.
She was on the side of the road with a blown-out tire. When I say blown out, I mean the whole tire was shredded and mostly gone from the rim. I asked a barrage of dad questions: "Are you alright? Is your car off the road? Do you have your flashers on? Is the car hurt? Does your spare tire have air in it?" She was, they were, she did, it wasn't, and she didn't know.
It was still dark outside and bitterly cold; twelve degrees below zero with a windchill factor in the minus twenties. I didn't want my daughter trying to change a tire in those conditions on the side of a busy four-lane highway. "I'm going to call Triple-A; they'll send someone to change the tire for you," I told her.
"And how much is that going to cost me," she worried.
"It won't cost you anything," I assured her. "It's part of the service we pay for with our membership." However, she was worried about more than just the money. The college really frowns upon students being late for their student teaching assignments. "Annie, there's a big difference between being late with a weak excuse and being late for a legitimate reason. They'll understand."
My daughter was stressed. "Dad, all these cars are just speeding by. Nobody is stopping to see if I need help," she said. "What's wrong with people?"
I remained calm to help put my kid at ease. "Sweetie, just stay calm, and we'll get through this," I told her. Then it was time for more dad questions: "Are you back in your car? Is your heater working well? Do you have a hat and warm gloves? Is your phone fully charged?" She was, it was, she did, and yes, it was. So I asked what every parent of a college student, who is paying most of their own way, worries about: "Annie, do you have enough gas?"
"A little over a half tank," She replied. I felt relieved. Knowing it might take a while for a tow truck to arrive, at least she had enough fuel to keep the car running to stay warm.
A few minutes later, a representative from Triple-A called, "Speltz Towing Service will change the tire. They have two calls ahead of you, so it will be about an hour and twenty minutes." But that's not what Annie would want to hear.
Before I could call Annie with an update, she called me. "The tire is changed; I don't need the tow truck." She explained that a Sheriff's Deputy stopped to see if she was okay and then changed the tire for her! I'll bet that's not in his job description.
The Winona County deputy did much more than changing a tire. He put a very stressed twenty-one-year-old college student at ease and helped her feel safe. He restored the faith of a girl who had just asked, 'What's wrong with people.' He also put that girl's dad at ease. I will always be grateful to him for going above and beyond his call of duty. In my travels around the country, I see cops doing this frequently, near and far.
One night last week, I rode my motorcycle into the gas station to get a gallon of milk. Although I recently had the bike serviced for an electrical issue, the problem apparently isn't fixed yet. The battery was so low, if I turned on the headlight at idle speed, the engine died.
A Sheriff's Deputy was sitting in a parking lot alongside the road; I suppose running radar. He flashed his headlights at me to let me know my light wasn't on. I turned around and drove back toward his vehicle. I took my helmet off and said, "Man, am I glad to see you! But, first, I'm not drunk!" I quickly explained my electrical issue, then asked, "Can I get a light."
"Can you get a what," he asked, quite puzzled.
"I was wondering if you would follow me home," I asked. "I could use your headlights in case mine goes out completely." The deputy asked where I lived, then told me he would follow me.
On the way home, he kept his headlights on high beam so long as there was no on-coming traffic. He had great lights on his vehicle, lighting the road far better than the light on my motorcycle, even when it was working correctly. At one point, a wolf trotted across the highway about thirty-five yards in front of me. I would never have seen that animal with my headlight.
The deputy used his hand-controlled spot lamp to light the corner as I turned off the highway. He followed me all the way to the end of my driveway to make sure I arrived safely.
I climbed off my bike and thanked him again. "I sure appreciate your help, sir. Since I quit smoking thirteen years ago, I haven't had to ask anyone for a light." We shared a good laugh about that.
"Not a problem," the deputy said. "We're here to help." Then he went on his way.
As he drove away, I thought, "Yes, here to help – but I'll bet that is not in your job description." Again, an officer went far beyond the call of duty. I had never seen an officer do that before, so now I guessed I had seen it all, as far as cops go. No. I hadn't.
Just a few days later, I was driving to southern Minnesota. I normally take exit 56 for my destination, but traffic slowed down to a crawl a few miles before my exit. If I took exit 59, I could cut through Faribault and avoid interstate congestion. There was a Minnesota State Patrol vehicle on the right shoulder; thus, everyone was merging left. There wasn't a cop in the car; it was just sitting there with its lights on. "They must be moving traffic over for an accident ahead," I said to myself. Just past the trooper's vehicle, a few cars turned down the exit. I followed them, "Oh, great!" Another Highway Patrol car had its lights on near the bottom of the exit ramp.
Here I thought I was being so clever to bypass the highway traffic, and I just turned into whatever the problem was. It was strange. There was no traffic build-up behind the second trooper.
The trooper was moving slowly on the shoulder; traffic was going around them wide and to the left. "What's that in front of the patrol car?" I squinted my eyes and looked closely. "Someone is walking a horse?" As I got closer, I saw a Minnesota State Trooper walking the horse with a patrol escort.
As I got closer yet, I could see the horse was unbridled. The trooper on foot had a blue rope high around the horse's neck, near the head.
As an old radio news guy, I started putting two and two together: The horse was loose on I-35. One trooper stopped to lasso the steed. With a rope looped around its neck, the trooper led the horse down the shoulder of the off-ramp at exit 59. (Thus, explaining the abandoned squad car on I-35.) The second trooper came along to provide an escort for his comrade with the stallion in tow. Wow. Now I've seen everything with cops? I doubt it.
I thought more about the scenario. A loose horse on the interstate would be very anxious and scared, unpredictable, and possibly dangerous. For the trooper to capture the animal, putting the rope high near the horse's head vs. low around the neck, and then calming the beast, earning her trust to lead the horse down the roadside, the trooper must have had some good horse sense. (No pun intended.)
Again, I would bet this task is not in the Minnesota Highway Patrol's handbook. It was likely one of Marshall Matt Dillon's duties, but this isn't the old west, and we weren't even near Dodge City, Kansas. Again, officers are going above and beyond the call of duty.
Was my synopsis correct? I have no idea. I didn't follow up to see an incident report from the Highway Patrol, Rice County Sheriff's office, or the Faribault Police Department. But I would bet I'm not far off.
I know a lot of cops, professionally and personally. Behind every badge on every law enforcement officer is a real human being. Just like all people, some cops are real characters themselves. For all I know, these two troopers may have just been horsing around on the job. (Pun intended.)
Thank you to all law enforcement officers for their work – especially when they go above and beyond the call of duty, for people, animals – everyone.