There was no graded area, just woods, and paved streets. The only way out was through me. I had slowly entered the subdivision with Otis when I saw the first side street to my left. As I got to the side street, I saw the corvette coming out of the dead-end very slowly. I slammed on the brakes and blocked the street. I quickly advised the radio of the situation and bailed out of my car with pistol drawn and pointed at the driver.

I started loudly barking commands at the driver to put it in the park and slowly turn off the engine and throw the keys into the street. I had all but forgotten about Otis. My attention was occupied at that moment. I advised the driver that he was under arrest. Yes, I was standing in front of his car and wide open to an attack. Adrenaline, Cop Candy. He could have run me down, but he followed my instructions for the moment. Just do your job, Eddie. I was watching his every move, waiting for backup. I was yelling commands to the driver. There were no passengers in the convertible corvette. The driver threw up his hands and slowly threw his keys into the street upon my command. I ordered that he slowly step out and had him slowly turn around where I could check his body for weapons. Otis was behind me, I had no idea what he was experiencing with my gun drawn and yelling commands.

Radio and other units were calling loudly on the radio, “141, what is your status?” “141?” Of course, I didn’t have time to avert my attention and answer. Right, COP? The driver put his hands on his car fender as ordered and assumed the position.

I approached and holstered my weapon. I frisked the driver and advised him again that he was under arrest. I went to pull his hands behind him for handcuffing, and the fight was on. After a minute or so, the driver and I were very winded. It had finally come to a stalemate, wrestling on the pavement. I wasn’t letting him up, and he was struggling to free himself from my hold; me pinning him and him resisting.

I heard the siren and droning of a four-barrel getting closer. I knew that the cavalry was on the way. Radio and the other units were calling, but I could not release my grip to answer. As I pulled him back up, he said, “I’ll get in your car, but you are not going to handcuff me.” I now pulled him up by the scruff and pinned him against his car. I suddenly remembered, Otis! I yelled for Otis to come to help me handcuff this teenager. He never made a move. Since the teen was still resisting, and I had no help yet, I went to drastic measures. So, I put on my big-boy britches and put a vice grip on his Balzac.

He immediately stopped resistance and fell to his knees, groaning. I quickly released my hold and swiftly put the handcuffs on behind his back, to make a point, I guess. I was always instructed to cuff from behind by training and S.O.P. While I was still huffing and puffing, the Zone 1 deputy arrived. Finally, told Radio that I was 10-4 but needed another unit to stand by for the impound. The day shift Zone 1 deputy arrived and reported my status to Radio and advised other responding units to 10-22. He waited for the impound wrecker while I put the teenager into my patrol car. A body search occurred, a little short of being a strip search.

I went through his shoes and clothing with a fine-toothed comb. He had nothing on his person, nothing but his wallet. “Why the fight, then?”. I placed the teenager in my patrol car where I smelled the odor of alcohol from him. There was Otis! Sitting in the front seat, still facing forwards. I asked Otis if he was O.K. and got no response. I searched the Corvette from bow to stern and found nothing. No drugs, no alcohol, no bodies in the trunk, nothing. Vehicle inventory completed. All the way to the office, I never said a word to Otis. I think he was in shock and couldn’t have answered if I wanted him to. When we got to the jail, I pulled to the Sheriff’s entrance. I looked sternly at Otis. I didn’t have to tell him to get out of the patrol car, we had barely come to a stop when Otis bailed. However, I did give him the worst scowling of his life. I just assumed Otis was a recently retired L.E.O., working for the charity. NAH!

In the Jail Book-in area, I read him his Miranda rights and his Implied Consent rights. He said that he was a freshman student at West Georgia College in Carrollton. He left his parents’ house that Sunday, where he had been for the weekend, and said he was hurrying back to school because he was trying to make a fraternity and selections were that afternoon.

He failed the DUI breath test by being over Georgia’s allotted legal limit. I guess that’s why he ran. I didn’t charge him with Obstruction. I figured the crushed Balzac was punishment enough. He was charged appropriately for his traffic violations. He was just a drunk rich boy heading back to school.