One day, the radio gave the Zone 1 deputy a call of a heated “10-16” (domestic) in the duplexes off Highway 5. “Sip” acknowledged the call and Sgt. Eddie immediately told me to respond to the call as backup. Allen said he would cover our zone.

I was close to the duplex and told Sip to stand by at the entrance and wait for me. I was just maybe four minutes away from him. As we entered the duplexes, Sip said, “this way”. Evidently, he’s had run-ins at that location before. Before we could even pull up, I saw a gangly white male about in his early fifties stomping and yelling and waving his arms frantically in his yard. He looked like an old drunk. The kind that is skin and bones with those big blood veins protruding from their skinny arms. The dead giveaway was his beer bottle in his hand. Radio had us meet a young female at that residence. She was in the front yard attempting to calm the old man down. She appeared to be in her early 20s and complained about her father, the drunk guy.

She advised that she was leaving her father and moving in with her boyfriend. We could see a car parked in the street with its trunk open and full of clothes and personal items. She said that her father doesn’t like her boyfriend because he is black. Well, the old man was doing a good job of protesting! Sip and I saw the old drunk verbally attacking a young black male who exited the duplex with clothes. The drunk father followed him all the way to the curb, yelling racist slurs and carrying on.

Sip’s Zone, so Sip’s the man. He told the old man to zip it and calm down. Now, the fact that Sip was a young black man in his early 20s like me, certainly didn’t calm the old drunk white man down. The drunk father began to shift the focus toward us. We both watched the screaming little man. But we had taken the heat off the moving couple. We both told the drunk to shut it and that his daughter was over 18 and could go wherever she wanted. He said, “she can’t take anything out of this house”. We told him that by State law she has the right to take her “personal” property like clothes, toiletries, etcetera. The young girl was standing nearby and said she was only getting that stuff. About that time, the young black guy exited the duplex with another armload of clothes. “Get off my property!”, yelled the drunk to his daughter’s boyfriend. The drunk father swung around, and he told Sip and I the same. Sip told the old man that we were legally standing on a public road and watching from the curb. Sip and I talked to the old man at the curb. But he never stepped off his property. We warned the drunk of arrest for “public drunk” if he stepped off his property.

We backed away from the curb and listened to hear if he would make a bodily threat of harm towards the couple. That way, we would witness the crime of “terroristic threats” and arrest him off his property. Now, some may ask, why didn’t you just arrest him for public drunk?

The U.S. and GA Constitution said that “basically” any citizen can stand on their own property yelling obscenities and making a drunk fool of themselves. (That was the rights of my Constitutional America!)

The cursing and racist name-calling were getting to Sip. He was getting angry. The drunk would always walk to the roadside curb cursing but never step into the street. Sip and I looked at each other and whispered, “if he steps one foot onto that street, he’s ours.”

The father went to a cooler by his chair on the front porch. He would slug another bottle of beer back in one gulp and start cussing again. After about 10 minutes of abuse, the daughter said she was ready to leave. She and the boyfriend were standing at the trunk of their car when the old drunk saw his last chance to pitch a “fit”. He suddenly made the wrong move. He stepped from the curb and put one foot in the street (Don’t forget that Sip and I were already in our three-point stance).

When his foot hit that pavement Sip and I looked like L.C. Greenwood and Mean Joe Greene the way we tackled him.
Sip hit him high, and I hit him low. I think our tackle landed him about halfway to his front door. Yes, the beer went flying. We worked in unison and had him hog-tied in seconds, maybe five seconds. It may have been a rodeo world record, I don’t know. Sip took him to jail on a public drunk charge. I had the grateful daughter and boyfriend thank us.

As a side note, Sip and I were called into Earl’s office the next day. I just couldn’t stay outta there. Earl said, “Boys, tell me about that arrest on Roper.” After relating the events, Earl said, “I heard you boys took a man off his property without a warrant”. Then we told him of the tackle. Where he just smiled and said, “get out”.

(“Sip” would later become the Chief of Police of East Point P.D. or College Park P.D.)