Authors: Patrick Abbruzzi
“Lieutenant, on the night you came to my home with the ambulance I had gone to bed early with my wife. We had just gotten back from vacation that morning and were pretty much tuckered out. I woke u
p
with I thought was a touch of indigestion so I went down stairs t
o
get some Tums. We kept them in the kitchen on top of the refrigerator. I remember a burning sensation in my gullet then I immediately became dizzy and passe
d
out. I guess I must have knocked over one of the kitchen chairs when I fell because the noise woke my wife up and she came down to check o
n
me. She walked into the kitchen where I was, gasped and placed both hands over her mouth and then screamed. Her screams are what woke up my daughter, who then ran down the stairs and saw he
r
mother panicking. It was my daughter who called 911,” he said quietly.
“Charlie, I asked him how he knew all of this, especially since he had not discussed it with anyone in his family since that night,” Lt. A. said. “He told me he knew it because he had seen every second of it. He told me after he passed out he had an experience that was really hard to describe in words but he would try.
“He said he was in a dark, black tunnel of some kind. Although he could not see anything through the darkness, he sensed he was moving very fast. He wasn’
t
afraid but he didn’t feel much of anything, either. After a few seconds, he noticed what he perceive
d
was a dot of light in front of him and he sensed he was racing right toward it. It felt as though someone was there with him but he didn’t see anyone. He just sensed that someone or something was traveling with him.”
Charlie nodded as Lt. A. continued his story.
“All of a sudden I was out of the tunnel and floating above my bod
y
near the kitchen ceiling. I saw my wife crying and my daughter going to the phone. I had no sense of time and was not afraid. As a matte
r
of fact, it was very peaceful. Then I saw you and the EMS technicians come in and I watched in a detached way when one of them cut m
y
shirt with scissors.
“It was me down there, lying on the kitchen floor, and yet it wasn’t.
“I saw you take my wife’s hands and comfort her. I saw and heard the technician approach you to tell you to prepare my wife for the worst then I watched as they carried my body out to the waiting ambulance.
“The next thing I remember was being in a large field of some sor
t
that was totally surrounded by this amazing, bright light. I looked directly a
t
it but it did not hurt my eyes. I looked at the light and somehow felt that I was part of it. I felt this amazing, blinding light was both heaven and God, all in one.
“The next thing I knew I had become totall
y
enveloped by a blanket of whiteness. I felt such enormous love emanating from it! I saw other beings and people there, too.
“I know this all sounds crazy but I remember it so vividly.
“I looked around and saw an old friend of mine who died at a young age due to cancer. I saw my Uncle Joe who passe
d
away just a few months ago. When he realized I’d seen him, he approached me and said I couldn’t stay there. He told me to go back because
I
had to finish my work on earth. Believe me when I tell you I didn’
t
want to. It was a beautiful place, calm and filled with so much love.
“The next thing I knew I was back in my body with all kinds o
f
people around me. I know now that it was in the hospital where I re-entered my body.
“I know you must think I’m nuts, but I just wante
d
to thank you in person for what you did for my family that night,” the man whispered appreciatively.
“Charlie, I acknowledged him and explained that I had never met anyon
e
who experienced what he had but had heard similar stories from others. I told hi
m
about a group I thought he should contact called IANDS, the International Association for Near Death Studies. I explained that they would direc
t
him to groups of people who had experienced similar experiences. He was thankful and we said our goodbyes.
“So, you see, that’s what I meant when I said some days are good and some are bad. The good ones always make up for the bad,” said Lt. A.
He always had some kind of interesting story to tell and the
y
were all real incidents he had experienced.
It was nearing 4:00 A.M. and the lieutenant had chosen not to go into th
e
station house on this night. There were enough sergeants on patrol an
d
he decided to allow them to work out their own meal reliefs.
After a few minutes, the lieutenant asked Charlie to pull over to the side of the road. Once they were parked, he instructed Charlie t
o
get out and switch places with him.
“Lou, what are you doing?
”
“I just feel like driving for a while,” the lieutenant answered.
Charlie felt funny driving down the street with the lieutenant at th
e
wheel. The guys on patrol all saw him driving and thought the bos
s
had lost his mind. Although it took a little time, the men soon realized that their lieutenant was still a cop at heart. He knew the precinct well and he was a worker who knew that cops got tired driving bosses all night. He wouldn’t hesitate to take his turn and drive part of the tour every night.
The remainder of their shift went fairly well. It was busy but most of th
e
jobs were easy and could be handled quickly. Although many of the guys wanted t
o
make collars, it just wasn’t a collar kind of night.
The lieutenant decided to grab a quick cup of coffee and look for summonses for Charlie in order to meet his quota for the month so he drove down to Jersey Street in search of unregistere
d
and uninspected vehicles. They were lucky. Within the space of on
e
hour, Charlie made a good start for the month when he wrote ten parking violation summonses.
Next the boss took them down to the water’s edge at the base of Jersey Street nea
r
the abandoned railway spur that used to traverse the north shore alon
g
the Kill Van Kull. It had been shut down for almost a quarter of a century and was used by either couples as a lover’s lane or cops looking fo
r
a quiet place to relax out of the public eye.
Eighteen
The lieutenant wasn’t tired and spoke of his days in the 120
th
as a co
p
while Charlie listened attentively.
“The late sixties and early seventies were the times of th
e
Black Liberation Army, or the BLA, and Joanne Chesimard. It was the sworn duty of th
e
BLA members to “ice” as many “pigs” as possible, so there were many attacks on cops during that time period. Often a routine call to an apartmen
t
building was an ambush in disguise. Sometimes the ambush came in the for
m
of a car stop where one of the BLA’s vehicles would deliberately violate
a
traffic infraction. When the cops pulled them over and got out, anothe
r
car called the “hit
”
car would drive by with automatic weapons and fir
e
upon the unsuspecting cops. It was an uneasy time knowing that you wer
e
a target and could be set upon at any moment. It was also a time when young kids who really didn’t know any better would yell
“oink, oink”
at you as you rode by.
“It was nothing new that the female in the black families was the matriarch, and the mother was often both mother and father of the siblings. I
n
those early days, the father sired his children and lived off the welfare checks of the mother, often having children with several wome
n
at the same time.
“Joanne
Chesimardwas both the “mother
”
and leader of her “family” i
n
terrorism. If she was not directly involved in some of the most heinou
s
cases in the tri-state area of New York, New Jersey and Connecticut, sh
e
surel
y
planned most of them,” the lieutenant explained.
He went on to say how Joanne Chesimard had been seen in Long Island. Eventually it was reported that she was staying on Staten Island somewhere in the 120
th
. Frank and John would have loved to grab her ass, as would any cop i
n
the New York Area.
She was finally captured in New Jersey in 1973 after a wild shootout o
n
the New Jersey Turnpike in which Trooper Werner Foerster was killed and his partner James Harper was badly wounded. During her trial, she steadfastly maintained her innocence and was found guilty but denounced the verdict as racist. In 1979, Chesimardbroke ou
t
of her maximum security cell with the help of four men who took a guar
d
hostage and commandeered a prison van, making good her escape. She fled to Cuba where she was granted political asylum by Fidel Castro. She had bee
n
living ever since under the African name of Assata Shakur.
Patrol was uneasy during the time of the Black Liberation Army’s all-ou
t
war on the police of the nation. It was easier for members of the BLA t
o
target members of police departments in large cities where they could assimilate right back into black neighborhoods and even gather sympath
y
and support from them. The majority of blacks in low-income areas were good, decent and hardworking people who only wanted to raise their children and give them an education and a chance at the good life.
Frank and John knew this yet they felt uneasy working in these areas. As cops they had to approach all people, at first skeptically and with an open mind yet ready to react in an instant.
The seventies were times of great upheaval. There was a major conflict ragin
g
in Vietnam and the police of this country were seen as agents of the state to that portion of the populace which vehemently opposed the Asia
n
conflict. New York City had its share of the anti-war demonstrations from the Whitehall Recruitment Center to the anti-war activities of the group known as Students for a Democratic Society, or SDS.
The SDS was basically a student activist organization that was highl
y
organized and definitely represented the new left. Their activities culminated in the attempted takeover of Columbia University and included grea
t
demonstrations in Washington Square Park in the 6
th
precinct’s Greenwic
h
Village area.
Just because Frank and John were not members of those precincts did no
t
mean they did not see any action in them. A police department is a semi-military organization. When there is a conflict in one area tha
t
requires more manpower than is normally assigned, a call fo
r
mobilization goes out and members from all precincts respond to cover it.
“Such was the case one day in September of 1969 when Frank and
I
as well as twenty or so other members of the 120
th
were called upon to respond t
o
Washington Square Park in the 6
th
precinct. Supposedly members of variou
s
college organizations with ties to the SDS and ACLU were going to demonstrate peacefully against the Vietnam War,” Lt. A. said.
“The uniform of the day was also reflective of what one would wear to
a
peaceful demonstration or parade. We were told to wear our summer hats, summer blouses and white gloves. The brass in headquarters knew that this was an anti-war demonstration, and had been informed in advance that the anti-war demonstrators from these groups had brought baseball bats an
d
baseballs imbedded with nails to previous demonstrations. It was also well known that City Hall was behind the call for the white gloves uniform.
“The uniform you wore determined what you could carry in the form o
f
defensive equipment. Wearing white gloves meant that no helmets coul
d
be worn or night sticks carried. It was obvious that City Hall wanted n
o
photos of police officers raising night sticks over the heads of poo
r
defenseless college students.