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Authors: Patrick Abbruzzi

Nothing to Report (29 page)

BOOK: Nothing to Report
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“While we sipped our steaming coffee, midnight mass was being celebrated in Saint Paul’s Church on
Targee Street. Parishioners inside were hearing the story about how baby Jesus was wrapped in swaddling clothes and left in a manger 2,000 years ago.

“It wasn’t by chance that Frank and I decided to park at that particula
r
intersection. We were assigned to the midnight mass church crossing. Can you imagine that? At the end of the mass roughly 100 or so of thes
e
church-goers would exit the building and we would have to get out of ou
r
warm radio car and help them cross the deserted street. It was mor
e
public relations than anything else.”

Charlie nodded.

 

“Anyway, while we were having our coffee and talking about the next sergeant’s exam, we both heard what we thought was glass breaking from somewhere behind us. We turned to peer through our rear window
,
which was pretty clear since we’d kept the heat on full blast for just this purpose because remember, we didn’t have windows with heated strips back then like we have today. When we turned our attention to the rear window we both saw a figure o
r
silhouette going into the old Romano house on Broad Street. This was an old, two-story wooden frame building that had been abandoned for years and was only used by the local junkies as a shooting gallery. It had been marked fo
r
demolition by the city for years but somehow remained standing.

“Frank said he wanted to check it out and I suggested we call for a backup unit, just in case. Although Frank agreed, he started to walk towards the Romano house. That’s when the first shot was fired.

“It ricocheted off a metal garbage can that had been left a
t
the curb. The sound was eerily melodic and seemed to linger, like a distant echo repeating itself over and over. Frank wasn’t three feet out of the RMP when the second shot shattered the front windshield of a car parked at the curb just a few feet from where Frank was standing. He dove for cover and screamed at me to call in a 10-13
,
assist patrolman,” said Lt. A.

 

“We got a fucking sniper somewhere in Romano’s!” Frank roared.

 

 

“Now remember, Charlie, we had no portable radios in those days so I picked up the phone receiver from its cradle, attached to the das
h
board, and tried to remain as calm as possible. I knew that shouting int
o
the receiver would only produce garbled transmissions on the other end so, in a calm voice, I made several attempts to reach Central but got no response.

“I watched Frank as I spoke into the radio. He was lying flat on his stomach as close to the building line as he coul
d
possibly get. I realized then that Frank must have been freezing his ass of
f
and hoped his adrenaline would have kicked in already.

“When I continued to get no response from Central, it struck me that we must be in a radio dead zone. The fucking precinct was loaded with them. The dispatcher who everyone called ‘Central

was located on the eighth floor of One Police Plaza in downtown Manhattan. Staten Island had some of the highest elevations on the entire easter
n
seaboard and the radio signal had to traverse the New York Lower Bay.

 

“I yelled to Frank that I was going to move the RMP in hopes of getting out of the dead zone and told him not to play hero. Then I drove the car south along TargeeStreet against traffic on the one-way street and made a left turn onto Metcalfe Street. I drove down th
e
short block and made a left turn onto Gordon Street before finally arriving a
t
Broad Street. Here I was just down the block from Frank and almost directly in front of the Romano house. I parked right there in the intersection because the parishioners in Saint Paul’s Church would be getting out of mass soon and I knew that probably 2/3's of them would use the rear doors of the church and walk along Gordon Street right t
o
Broad Street. I had to be in position to warn the
m
not to approach Broad Street.

“I tried to call Central again, even saying that I had an emergency message
,
but I still got no response. This time though I heard othe
r
sectors trying to reach me,” the lieutenant explained.

 

“What do you have, John?
”
askedFrankie Catalano. He and Willie Folder from sector C were also working tha
t
night.

“Frank, tell Central that we have shots fired at officers. There’s a sniper in the corner house at Broad and Gordon. My partner is pinned down at Broad and
Targee! I’m using the RMP as cover at Broad and Gordon.”

Thankfully, I immediately heard Frankie relaying my message to central radio
.

“120 C to central,” said Frankie.

“Proceed, sector Charlie,” answered the dispatcher, finally.

“Central, be advised we have a 10-13 in the confines of the 120
th
precinc
t
in sector Eddie at Broad and Gordon Streets. Also be advised that two shot
s
have been fired. We need backups and ESU to respond forthwith,” Frankie said, his voice calm and direct.

“10-4,” replied Central, acknowledging the call.

 

“This was the first time that I’d heard Central speak. Whatever was broke
n
seemed to be fixed.

 

“Within a few seconds the sweetest sound this side o
f
heaven, or anywhere else for that matter, came waffling down out of th
e
falling snow right into my ears. Sirens, lovely sirens, Charlie! My brothers in blue were answering my 10-13,” said Lt. A., smiling at the memory.

Whenever a 10-13 came over the airwaves, cops stopped whatever they wer
e
doing and pressed their feet to the pedal. Many a hot cup of coffee wen
t
flying out of car windows or onto laps when a 10-13 sounded. When troubl
e
comes their way they know that the only people they can depend on are other cops. Their very lives are dependent upon each other and their dedication to each other means the difference of going home at the end o
f
the day, or not. Cops don’t speak about it but it’s there and quite evident. It’s there all the time.

The lieutenant smiled and nodded as he stared out the window and continued his story.

“A third shot rang out. I was lying in the snow along the passenger’s side of the car, using the vehicle as a shield. I remember feeling how wet and cold the snow was. I was wearing my hat but had it on backwards becaus
e
I didn’t want to give the bastard a target with my shiny, metallic ha
t
device.

“When the fourth shot came, it blew out the driver’s side front tire, and the fifth shattered the windows on the left side of the car. Th
e
scumbag was getting close. The sirens were growing louder and were music to my ears, which were now becoming uncomfortably numb fro
m
the cold.

 

“As I waited for my reinforcements, it didn’t take long for me to realize that the sectors couldn’t go all out in their attempts to get to me because the snow on the ground was accumulating and driving was al
l
too treacherous. Any approaching cars would have to be driven with extreme caution. Anyone coming to assist us wouldn’t be much use to Frank and Ii
f
they cracked up on the way to us.

“Added to our predicament was the fact that there were onl
y
five sectors working instead of the usual eight. However, it was Christmas and all of the men working agreed to do so with less coverage in order for more men to have the holiday off.

“I wanted desperately to let a shot go at the bastard but I didn’t yet have
a
decent target. I had six rounds in my chamber and twelve extra in m
y
ammo pouches. Remember, Charlie, we didn’t have speed loaders back then like we d
o
today.

“My mind filled with a million questions. What if I shot aimlessly? What if the bastard counted my shots? What if help didn’t arrive i
n
time? All my questions led to answers telling me that the cocksucke
r
holed up in that house would blow my head off if I didn’t use i
t
to think straight. I didn’t even know which window the prick was shootin
g
from.

“I had to take a chance and look up so I decided to crawl on my belly to the rear of the RMP and hopefully get a glimpse of where he was. It wasn’t long before I saw the flash of the sixth shot. It instantly and completely reduced Sal’s barber shop front window into a millio
n
shards of glass. He was holed up in an upper window on the right side of the house. The fuck had a clear view of everything!

 

“The sirens faded into silence. I knew this meant either they were very close and ha
d
no reason now to use the sirens or they had gotten into a jam themselves. At the same time, the ringing of th
e
church bells signaled that midnight mass was over. This was when I experience
d
something which felt as if it lasted forever but I later learned it had lasted only a few seconds.”

The lieutenant paused briefly, buried in memories of a time long gone, then said, “This was when I saw my life pass before my eyes, Charlie. I saw many things that felt like forever but in reality was only a few seconds.

“I was a child again, playing with friends but then, in a split second, I was at my own wedding. I blinked and witnessed the birth of each of my children, then saw them running down the stairs on Christmas morning as they hurried to see what Santa had brought them.

“When this shootout happened on Broad and Gordon, my kids were six and seven. As my life flashed before my eyes, I saw each and every one of their Christmases and I swear t
o
you, Charlie, just as sure as I’m sitting here with you right now, that I heard my son call to me on that night thirty years ago. He called me Daddy an
d
told me to hurry home because he needed me. I knew I had to get hom
e
to him, no matter what. Although I didn’t know if the images from my past playing through my mind were real or imagined, I had no doubt that the ho
t
tears running down my face that night
were
real because they reached m
y
mouth and I could taste the saltiness of them.

“I was certain that the bullshi
t
going on that night had to end one way or another. I glanced to my right and one of my worst fears materialized right before my eyes. Some of th
e
churchgoers were exiting through the rear door and were heading right towards me.

 

“Although we both know that ordinary citizens can be inquisitive, why do they hav
e
to be so stupid most of the time,” the lieutenant said with a frown as he glanced at Charlie. “The crowd from the church noticed me lying in the snow then soon saw the blown out windows and glass glistening atop the cool blanket of white covering the ground. Believe it or not, I could actually hear some of them yelling that someone must be making a movie. Yeah, we were filming a movie minus the lights, cameras and actors. I had the action though, didn’t I? I yelled at them to get back onto the side street but the idiot
s
stayed right where they were and just stared.”

He took a drink of coffee before he continued.

“Then another shot rang out. I can still hear the scream that followed as if it just happened yesterday. It was blood curdling, loud, and unlike anything you hear in a Hollywood movie. Screams in real life are incomparable t
o
movie screams. This one was real and was followed by moans and murmurs. The crowd that lingered before was gone now except for one strapping youn
g
black kid who probably lived in the Stapleton houses across the street.

“I reached into the RMP and pulled the radio out of its cradle, stretching it as far towards me as it would go. I wanted to reach anybody that I could. Thankfully, Frankie in sector C heard me and I told him I had a shooting victim. I explained that I didn’t know his condition or wher
e
he’d been shot but I needed an ambulance right away,” Lt. A. said.

“Charlie, I crawled over to the kid, staying as low as I could. You know, if it had been just a little warmer I would have been soaked, but since it was so cold, I stayed fairly dry.

BOOK: Nothing to Report
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ads

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