Of all the “usual and routine calls for service” that any cop goes to, one of the most often complained about was the Domestic Violence assignment.
Domestic Violence was almost always a no-win situation that had the even more downside of being very physically dangerous to all of those unlucky enough to be involved.
A domestic argument would quickly evolve with yelling, screaming, throwing of breakable household goods, and then the interpersonal physical violence had the too-close neighbors calling the police to stop the noise and referee the brawl.
When you added rotgut booze and street-level drug addiction, most of these disputes were an automatic multiple-blue-suit response.
Filling a dinky studio apartment with 5 or 10 stern-looking cops was a good way to depressurize the he-said-she-said dynamic quickly enough so that no one missed lunch or the free sinkers with coffee at the Doughnut Heaven pastry shop when closing time came about.
More than a few times, the “syndrome” would make things even more complicated.
Scenario:
Daddy would have a few or 15 beers after work, and come home. Mom would object on legitimate grounds and get “slapped around” in front of the children. When the cops were met at the front door by a bloody-faced mother of 6, and Dad was then hooked up to face charges,
Mom would try to stop by saying that “I need the rent money,” or “he’s just drunk-let him stay,” and then she would occasionally try to push the cops out of the apartment.
Extreme example.
FELONY ALERT RADIO TONE
“Dispatch to Three David 7, 5, 15, and 30, -return call to 1235 Alabama Court. DV Involved, ambulance en-route.”
Insert unauthorized radio grumbling that went like:
5“Not there again”
7“ Charlie didn’t you have to fight your way in and out of there on Friday? “
30“An ambulance—oh great”
15“ Dave, this is your report this time”
Mom and Dad were literally wrestling with each other at the top of the steep concrete steps when seen first that day.
There was a literal mob of people standing around on the sidewalk watching the tussle.
While we watched, Dad did a roundhouse slap against the already bleeding mother, and then as the squad of blue suits rushed up the stairs, she stood spread-eagled on the stairs trying to shield her attacker from us.
From 4 feet away, I heard her say multiple times;
’” I won’t press charges”
“He was just defending himself”
” Please don’t take him away, I have kids to feed”
We got written statements from as many of the witnesses as possible to try and get around the victim-syndrome-fueled responses at the scene.
He went to jail
She went to the hospital
The 6 kids (the oldest was 8) all went to Child Protective Services
Again…..
After the blood was hosed off the stairs, we all went to lunch
True to her word, the battered wife never showed up for any of the trials or hearings after that, and like Mrs. Patricia Campbell Shaw, she moved on with her life after that.
Unlike Patty, this Mom didn’t have 50 million dollars in a trust fund and a famous father.
By request, Police Chaplain Monsignor John Heany helped Mom to recover, and then taught the kids to hula hoop on the sidewalk soon after that.
( Yes, with John in full Catholic Priest regalia, complete with red tassel hat and ankle-length formal vestments it WAS hilarious to watch these lessons)
