Does Your Perception Look Like Your Reflection?

The following was inspired by my Pastor and friend, Stacy Dyer.  The names have been changed to keep me from looking foolish.

As a former Law Enforcement Trainer we would talk about perception all the time.  The most common statement was;  Perception is reality.  We would talk about case law and personal experiences supporting this.  As time passed I realized that my perception about a lot of things was not correct.  Let me explain by telling another story from my early years in Law Enforcement.

Once upon a time in early January 1982 a young patrolman by the name of Hime Yenkil was working the midnight shift.  I would have used the name Joe Bagofdonuts - but he was working that night also.  The night crew was Ed "Don't tell me what kind of day to have" Riddle, Jimmy "I'm pumping ethyl" Sherrill, Bob "My p/a doubles as a Lie Detector" Walton, Mark "Monotone" Lewis and none other than our Supreme Commander, Sgt Jack "Don't ever let me catch you doing what Ed & Jimmy do" Garson.  He told me to call him Captain Midnight when addressing him.  I grew to love Jack, um, I mean in virile manly sort of way - like a father - hows that.

One dark night at about 3:30am I was sitting in a parking lot doing paper work when two young girls (about 21 years of age) ran up to my car screaming and crying.  I (I mean Officer Yenkil) immediately exited my car and threw my cape over my shoulder asking how I could be of assistance.  Light emanated from behind me, outlining the silhouette of my body and gave the appearance of flames glistening off the top of my head as a slight breeze blew my cape in the air behind me.  As it turns out the light was from my flashlight which I accidentally turned on when I got out of the car.  Anyway, the girls told me a white male in his mid twenties was making strange sounds and tried to coax them into an alley where they feared he would try to rape them.  He was waving something which they thought was a gun and that is when they ran and found me a few blocks away.  I took there names and phone numbers (for professional reasons of course) and with the deepest voice I could muster said; I'll handle this.  Then got into my patrol car and drove north bound on Dixie Hwy singing aloud: Here I come to save the day da dah.

About four or five blocks away I saw the suspect they described walking northbound on the west side of the street.  He was later id and Bob Wickbar (name slightly changed to make you think).  I pulled up onto the sidewalk behind Wickbar with my bright lights on.  I exited my car and and told Wickbar (whom had stopped walking) to turn around and put his hands up slowly.  Wickbar did nothing but look around at the closed business to his left - totally ignoring me.  I said again in a deep and louder voice; Turn around and put your hands in the air!  Again Wickbar refused to comply.  I did a quick inventory of me in my uniform, my now drawn gun and my police cruiser - the car looked good, my gun looked good and I looked real good in my uniform but nothing good was happening?  Just then Wickbar turned and saw me.  He reached for a long metal object from his waist-band and began to draw it.  I saw a shiny black metal object with a long barrel - it was a GUN!  I remember thinking I haven't been cop two months and I am going to have to shoot someone.  I had used the door of my patrol car as cover, however as I started to pull the trigger of my revolver, I stepped away from the door.  Just as my weapon was about to discharge I saw that the object Wickbar was drawing was not a gun but a flashlight!?  I pointed my gun into the air, but it was to late - it had fired and Wickbar fell to the ground dropping the flashlight.

Officer Sherrill had been down the street and saw everything.  He drove up at which time I was shaking like a leaf in a hurricane and talking so fast in a high pitched voice, Sherrill thought I had drank a Big Gulp Espresso.  Officer Sherrill slapped me three times and told me to get a hold of myself.  I think he liked hitting me because I calmed down after the first slap but he did it two more times.  He said later it was for good measure?  I thought of actually shooting Jimmy for hitting me, but I was already so upset from killing one person I didn't think shooting another would make me feel better.  Officer Sherrill told me Wickbar was not dead and that I didn't even shoot him!?

After completely settling down I began to Reflect on what happened.  I told you my perception now let me tell you what actually happened.  Bob Wickbar is a deaf mute.  When I pulled up behind him the lights from my patrol car illuminated the closed business he was walking in front of.  It was about 3:30 in the morning which made him stop to see why the business lit up.  When Wickbar realized the light was coming from behind him he turned to see what it was.  When he turned around my bright lights were blinding him so he was pulling out his light to flash me back as if to say turn your brights off.  When I (I mean Officer Yenkill) stepped away from the car door he saw a policemen pointing a gun at him.  Wickbar stumbled backwards and tripped over the curb dropping his light just as I thought my gun went off - it never discharged.  Hey, what do you want.  I haven't even gone to the academy at this point.  When Captain Midnight, I mean Sgt Garson asked me if I thought I could handle it?  I wasn't going to say no!?

Looking back my perception of me and this situation was nothing like the actual reflection of what happened.  I had looked at myself as RoboCop, but in actuality I reflected Barney Fife.

On a final note; about fifteen years after this incident, I was on my home after teaching a night class at the Police Academy.  I was approaching the crest of an overpass and slightly exceeding the speed limit when as I came to the top, there was Wickbar riding his bicycle in my lane coming at me.  I remember leaning closer to the steering wheel not believing what I was seeing.  In an instant I screamed like a little school girl and slammed on the brakes turning my car sideways, watching him fall over as I skid past him thinking I just hit him!  When my car came to a stop, my heart was pounding and I was sweating, remembering that first incident all over again, I saw him pick his bike up from the curb he hit and ride away.  I kept thinking; I should have shot him when I had the chance...