Here I am

Saw the business end of a shotgun this morning...

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Cleaning wood siding

Think you got it rough?

I was at our corporate hanger this morning and thought I'd sweep the floor while one of our other engineers was checking some equipemnt in our aircraft. So, here I am sweeping the floor, minding my own business and a Tucson Airport cop shows up outside the door with a shotgun pointed at me yelling at me to drop it (the broom). I started walking to the door, and he again told me to "drop it". I set the broom against the wall and told him to settle down and showed him my airport ID badge. He finally turned the gun away from me and we proceeded to sort things out.



The hanger security system had been set off when the other employee unlocked the building and went in. We finally got the system reset, and about 20 mintues later the cops finally showed up, shot gun in hand. I guess he thought I was a terriorist who broke in to sweep the hanger floor. ****** me off!!!
 
Back in my Air Force days, I came in to work one morning to open up, called into security to confirm the passcode I was keying into our door lock and they said ok. A little while later, I got a call back and they told me to 'step outside'. I was met by a group of Security Police with M-16's and a K-9 who proceeded to have me 'kiss the pavement'. After it was all over, I found out they had changed the password and 'forgot' to tell me. :mad:



Nothing better than being on the receiving end of M-16's and K-9 teeth :rolleyes:
 
If any law enforcement officer tells you to drop it, you do it right away. If it was a trigger happy rookie he could have shot you. I have been shot twice as a kid, once in the leg from a 410 and once in the back with rock salt. The rock salt was the worst of the too.



Glad every thing worked out with yours.
 
Back in the '50s my younger brother took a job repossesing cars to help pay college expenses. After several such incidents with disgruntled car owners and various firearms, one of which was a very short double barrelled shotgun, he opted for another line of work--he became a CPA.

Can't imagine some finance company hiring a 19 year old with virtually no training to do that now.



Vaughn
 
I had something similar happen to me.

It was my first real job. I was opening the place. I had all the phone numbers and passwords, but somebody forgot to tell the alarm company when I would be arriving.

By the way that cop's gun was shaking, I would swear he was more scared than I was.

Eric
 
Wow I was in the same boat if you remember back 9MM @ TMTT and you kind of explained that "Sence of disbelief" as to what was going on in a sense. Here you are and a 5 O is pointing a mossberg at you and you still approach him. The brain is yelling I am not a bad guy but the cop cannot hear your grey matter yelling.



I felt time slow waayyy down as I could hear myself saying to ... myself that that barrel is not meant for me. Glad you made it! Man Someone is STILL looking out for the klenger man!!!
 
ToolManTimTaylor

Your comments are exactly what was happening to me... sense of disbelief. It would have made an interesting law suit if he had done me in. I suppose if I had been an Arab, he would have been more careful as pointing a gun at me would have been racial profiling.
 
klenger: Was this individual a full-fledged Tuscon police officer?? or a TSA cop? The TSA individuals I have experienced leave a lot to be desired for their professionalism and their holier-than-thou attitudes.

N Dennis
 
My experience was a bit different. I was going to Police HQ to register a 45 I just bought from a friend. I park my car and begin to get the 45 out of it's box. That's when I find that my friend had also put about 20 to 25 rounds of ammunition in the box with the pistol. Needless to say, you CAN'T bring ammo into the Police Bldg!!! I start to empty the ammo from the box and being kind of upset that I didn't check the box in the first place, I drop the ammo on the floor of my car. Here I am, trying to pick up the . 45 ammo when I suddenly hear a tapping on my window. I look up and all I see is a Badge and the barrel of a 9MM pressed up against my driver's side window. At that point all I could think of was putting my hands up and said as loud as I could,,, "I'M ONE OF THE GOOD GUYS".



After exiting my car and expalining to the officer what had actually happened with the 45 and the ammo, he dropped his head and leaned against the car in relief. He told me that just that same week, his partner was shot when approaching a parked car with a person doing similar actions as I was. I felt so sorry for this guy. You could see how drained he was. There was a diner across the street and I invited him to join me in a well deserved cup of coffee which he,,, at that point,, gladly accepted.
 
When I was working at Cub Foods, every time we got a trainee at the service desk, they were told the little black button is the panic button, and only push it in an emergency. So what do they do, push it five minutes before their shift ends at 10:00 to see what happens.



So here I am, Manager On Duty, going outside for my last break and I see several patrol cars parked in the dark in the back of the lot, and shadows zig zagging across the parking lot for the front doors. Great.



I glance back inside to make sure everything appears OK, then approach the closest cop with my arms well to the side. I identify myself, and then I am informed that the silent alarm has been tripped, and asked directions to the service desk and bookkeeping closet.



I let them assemble at their various strategic entry points then follow them in (guns drawn). The trainee has the "Oh *****" look on his face, and I go over to the first door of the bookkeeping room to open it up, where I am stiff armed into the wall then pined there by the third guy in line as the rest of them pile in (guns drawn and at the ready) and proceed to alternate between telling the now freaked out bookkeeper (who has just pushed the panic button) through the 4" Plexiglas access window, to get against the wall, and open the door, get against the wall, open the door (on very different ends of the room).



Now that the building has been cleared, I am lectured on the false alarm, and how bad that is (no *****, I've heard this lecture 15 times in the last 5 years) while another is arguing with his shoulder about the second alarm from the same location, and how they have it under control. Now I get to go pass on the same lecture to the CSM, to pass on to the trainee. Some look relieved, others look irritated as they leave, and all I can do is thank them for their fast response, and apologize for the false alarm.
 
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I am a Recovery Agent

I figure I see the business end of a firearm about 3 or 4 times a year, mostly from law enforcment, and I will say I am way more scared of them then I am of a upset debtor who is about to lose their car. But you never know... .....



This is a artical written about a friend of mine about 3 weeks ago, Stockton is about 30 miles north of Modesto.



By Joe Tone Record Staff Writer Published Saturday, July 3, 2004



STOCKTON -- A single father who made his living in the sometimes-dangerous world of repossessing property was shot to death in his bedroom early Friday while two of his daughters slept in the next room, police, family and friends of the man said.



Neighbors on east Stockton's North Golden Gate Avenue said three loud pops sliced through the morning silence around 2 a. m. Friday. Two days before Independence Day, they dismissed the sounds as celebratory fireworks.



Minutes later, paramedics arrived with the shriek of sirens, and they quickly pronounced dead 43-year-old Billy Allmon, a professional "collateral recovery agent" and the father of daughters 8, 16 and 18 years old.



It remains unclear whether the shooting was connected to Allmon's job as a repossession agent. Police have located no suspects, and detectives will release few details on the shooting, spokesman Sean Fenner said.



But one neighbor, who spoke on condition of anonymity, said after the shots riled him from his sleep, he looked out his bedroom window and saw a man riding a bicycle hurriedly away from Allmon's home.



His two daughters asleep, Allmon had been in his bedroom with a friend when there was a knock at the window, said his boss, Shane Freitas, who was not there but has spoken to the friend who was.



Allmon went to the window, Freitas said. The bullets shattered the glass.



Allmon was raised in San Jose and came to Stockton when he was 18, said his mother, Joann Allmon. He lived in the tall, white home for about a year and a half.



He worked constantly but made time to raise his daughters and root hard for Jeff Gordon, his favorite NASCAR driver, his mother said.



Though it is not encouraged by Allmon's company, Accurate Adjustments, Allmon often took his tow truck home, the cars he had repossessed still hitched to the back, those who knew him said.



On a few occasions, car owners followed Allmon home and confronted him, said his neighbor, who witnessed a few such exchanges. Allmon remained calm and talked his way out of any trouble, he said.



"He was really a good negotiator," the neighbor said. "It's just his job and somebody's gotta do it. And he's doing it. "



Allmon worked with Accurate Adjustments for four years and had never run into any serious problems, Freitas said. In previous years as an agent, he was occasionally threatened but never hurt, his mother said. "Bill was a big guy," she said.



Freitas acknowledged the business can be risky -- in 16 years, he's been shot at once and had a dozen or so guns pulled on him.



But he described Allmon, who was close to 6-foot-4 and around 250 pounds, as a gentle agent. "I'm baffled," Freitas said.



Early Friday, the home was quiet, save for the occasional bark from one of the two pit bulls playing in the fenced-in side yard. A thick sheet of plywood was nailed over Allmon's bedroom window.



Later, Allmon's family loaded his belongings -- TVs and DVDs and more -- into their cars.



In the neighborhood, north of Fremont Street near Highway 99, there are small, simple houses on large lots, some of them shadowed by ancient Oak trees. It is a usually quiet mix of longtime residents and short-term renters, people there said.



The man who saw the bicyclist pedaling away has lived there for 40 years, and he had come to enjoy Allmon's company as a neighbor. Had he known those cracks were gunshots, he said, he surely would have jumped in his truck and chased the man down.



"I thought it was firecrackers," he said, and later, he repeated himself. "I thought it was firecrackers. "
 
I have never seen the wrong end of a gun pointed at me (except when one of my brothers accidentally damn near shot my hat off once), but one of the hazzards of Judging was making some folks real mad.



I was very unpopular with the criminal set in our area, and it was not real rare to get threatening phone calls; 2:30 Am;the phone rings, I pick it up to hear some jerk say, "we are comming to get you, you #%&*@. "

After a few of those, I got my pat reply ready, "come on dog s----, my . 44, my guard dog and I are waiting for you". They never showed up, but I did get a bullet hole in my old '50 Dodge. I did not even realize what it was when it happened, some time later a friend asked when the bullet hole got there.

And I spent a couple sweaty periods when we had solid reports of a "contract" being out on me. By hind sight, it was kind of funny on one of them. I got a call from the Sheriff asking if he and a couple deputies could come right over; he said it was real important. I said sure come on over. In just a couple minutes, my Judicial Assistant, stuck her head in to say that the Sheriff, the Undersheriff and a senior detective were there to see me. They came in and after hemming and hawing a bit, they reported that they had a confirmed report that there was a contract out on me.

They wanted to try to make an attempted murder case against the guy and wanted to leave him free the make the attempt. We had an interesting time for about three weeks; till the guy got bombed out of his gord and wonderred over the centerline and came face to face with the grill of an 18 wheeler. They had to scrape him up. That time the call about 1:00 AM, was the Undersheriff calling to tell me to relax t was over.



Vaughn
 
M-16s

We used to deliver fuel to NORAD for their generators. Anyway one of the other drivers had just loaded a full load of fuel, He asked me directions on how and when to turn up the side of Cheyene mountain. I told him where and also told him to call them before leaving, as security is tight. He forgot to call and was surrounded by Air Force MPs with M-16s on the ready! He even had to go face down while they searched his rig! :D
 
My Dad was shot at in the late 1960's.

He worked in Newark, NJ.

Guess a lot of folks got shot at,at that time.

He didnt even know it till he saw the holes in the car.

Eric
 
A friend and I were riding mountain bikes in Guantanimo Bay Cuba at the Navy base, we were on a couple dirt trails when all of a sudden these dudes jumped out from behind the bushes with all sorts of firearms(they weren't pointed right at us though). They asked us what the heck we were doing where we were and we told them riding, they said, "Do you know there are land mines out here?" Uh, no, which way back the the blacktop? It was pretty funny looking back on it later that day.
 
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