Groff Media 2024© Truth Endures IMDbPro
Presented by benandsteve.com By: Benjamin Groff II©
3–5 minutes
It was one of those perfect spring days in April when everything felt right. The sun warmed the air to a comfortable 70 degrees. I rolled down my cruiser’s windows for the first time in months. I patrolled the streets of Elk City. That morning, the west side was my focus, a quiet stretch where anything unusual instantly stood out. That’s where I spotted Chester Hessman.
Ah, Chester Hessman. Everyone in Elk City knew him. Born and raised here, Chester was as much a part of the town as its aging brick buildings. He shared the unofficial title of “town drunk.” Another character held this title, too, whose story fills its chapter. Chester, though, was unique. He had a charm akin to Otis Campbell from The Andy Griffith Show. Otis was a regular at the jail with a presence so familiar that he also had his key.
Chester was skinny and of medium height. He was always disheveled. If he was out in public, he was most certainly drunk. Today, he was directing traffic in the middle of a bustling four-lane intersection, completely ignoring the functioning traffic light overhead.
I flipped on my red-and-blue lights and eased my cruiser into the intersection, pulling up beside him. Stepping out, I called him ––––
“Chester, you’re going to put me out of a job! How about I give you a ride home instead?”
Chester turned toward me, swaying on unsteady legs. He gave me a gummy smile—he hadn’t had teeth for years—and replied, –––
“I’d love ya for it!”
I chuckled, helped him into the passenger seat, and gave him a friendly warning. –––
“Now listen, Chester. I need you to sit tight and behave. Don’t think about jumping out or causing trouble, or it’s straight to jail. Got it?”
“I plomise!”
he slurred, laughing and babbling as I buckled him in.
Pulling away, I turned off the lights and debated whether to radio in the meeting. Chester had just been released from jail that morning. I hoped he would stay out of trouble if I got him home—at least for the day. I decided to keep it off the books. What would go wrong?
Well, a lot, as it turned out.
We were only a few blocks from Chester’s house when a priority call came over the radio.
Unit 3, Unit 4, Unit 2, and Unit 6: Report of six individuals behind Braum’s on 3rd Street. They are shooting at each other with a gun.
I was the closest unit, just a block away. Chester looked at me, confused as I explained the situation. –––
“Chester, you’ve ridden along before. You know the drill—stay in the car, keep your head down, and don’t touch anything for the love of God. Got it?”
He nodded solemnly, briefly giving the impression he was sober.
“I’ll watch out for ya, Officer Ben. Don’t worry.”
As I pulled up to Braum’s, I spotted six figures loitering near the back of the building. I radioed in,
“Unit 3: Headquarters, I’m 10-97 with six 10-12s. I’ll be out with them.”
Communication was acknowledged, and I stepped out to approach the group. But as I got closer, my portable radio began emitting a garbled, high-pitched noise. Annoyed, I assumed it was interference and turned the volume down.
The six “suspects” were kids playing with a toy air gun. We had a brief chat about how their game looked to the public. I suggested they move their play to a less conspicuous location. They nodded, embarrassed but cooperative.
As I headed back to my cruiser, I heard sirens approaching from all directions. Confused, I quickened my pace and opened the car door to find Chester holding my radio mic.
“Chester,”
I said, trying to process the scene.
“What are you doing?”
He grinned at me like a naughty child caught red-handed. –––
“Just makin’ some sounds, Officer Ben. Ain’t it funny?”
It wasn’t. The “interference” I’d heard earlier was Chester making garbled noises on my radio. When I turned my portable’s volume down, Communications assumed the worst. They thought I was injured. Worse, they thought I was trying to signal for help. They’d dispatched every available unit, fire, and ambulance to my location.
Chester’s laughter echoed as the reality of the situation sank in. What was supposed to be a quiet favor for Chester had turned into a full-blown emergency response.
I drove Chester straight to jail. He laughed the entire ride, still holding the microphone like his toy. I went to radio headquarters. I needed to explain to my supervisor how Elk City’s most infamous drunk had hijacked my radio, sparking chaos.
As I left the station that day, I still heard Chester laughing from his cell. I didn’t find it nearly as amusing.
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