Zone Six

Palm Beach County Sheriff’s Department

Another beautiful day in paradise in south Florida and it was late afternoon and approaching the end of the day shift (7 – 3). I was just heading for headquarters to do reports, gas up the vehicle and turn it over to the next deputy coming on duty.

The radio crackled with a call that there was supposedly a woman being held at gun point in her home. The assailant was her husband. This call came from the woman’s mother who had called and by way of yes and no answers found that her daughter was in fear of her life.

Being the nearest officer to the home I immediately responded. However, on a call of this nature we were advised to not use our sirens when approaching the home. Traffic was fairly light and it only took about two minutes for me to arrive.

Normally, we are to wait for back-up, but the nearest unit was about five minutes away and I didn’t want to have anything happen to this woman. This was also before the time of SWAT and negotiators. We are talking 1965 -1966. I didn’t feel it was necessary to wait. They always did call me …. Well I can’t use that word, but I was considered a hotdog.

I approached the house with a small porch around the front and knocked on the door. A woman in her thirties came to the door and opened it about ten inches. Just enough room to put her face up to the door jam. I identified myself and asked her if she was Mrs. Whats-her-name and that I was looking for a specific address. In those days there weren’t many addresses on the house. No 911 then either.

It was obvious to me that the woman had been crying and was visibly shacked about something. As I looked beyond her head, I could see a man’s leg and foot. At this time I was not sure he had a weapon of any kind. I said that it was obvious she had been crying and asked her if everything was okay.

She looked at me for about 10 or 15 seconds and then all of a sudden screamed” I DON’T KNOW… AKS MY HUSBAND. HE HAS THE GUN!” as she lunged through the doorway and pushed me almost to the ground. I pushed her off of the porch into the yard and told her to run. Because of the porch railing I had no place to go and I pulled my .357 Python and backed-up along the porch area.

I hadn’t backed up very far when I gun attached to this man’s hand was coming slowly out of the doorway. I advised him to drop the gun (rather loudly and with a few adjectives) as I continued to back up aiming my Python at the doorway. He continued to emerge from the doorway, gun in hand, and not complying with my demands.

It was about this time that back-up units started to arrive. I was still backing up aiming at the man as he emerged, but I hadn’t looked behind me so I wasn’t aware there was no railing on this end of the porch. I backed right off of the porch falling into a flower-bed. Luckily my weapon did not discharge and I wasn’t injured. However, I was called Officer Fife for the longest time.

The man, I think, was so surprised by my falling that he almost laughed. When he noticed the other five officers with guns drawn he decided to drop the weapon and give himself up. He was still laughing while we were booking him into the county jail.