Yep! I Almost went to Jail in 1991!

The Time I almost went to jail

Going to jail is one of those things that I really work hard at not ever doing.

But in 1991, I was in Roseburg, Oregon, and I almost got arrested. 

The funniest part was All I was doing was waiting for trains to watch. But I managed to attract four undercover police cars, eight detectives, and to get cuffed, and stuffed into the back of a police car… oh, and my pants were down, too! (Ha! Yes, it sounds really bad… but I assure you, none of it is what it sound like I was doing!... Read on, you will see!)

When I was transferred to Roseburg, Oregon from Medford, Oregon in the fall of 1990, I suddenly found myself with a lot of extra time on my hands, and no money to go anywhere, or do anything. I had worked at PayLess Drug for many years, and they finally convinced me to join their management team. I reluctantly took the step to become management with the agreement that I would not be transferred from Medford. They agreed… but I quickly found out that once you sign on the dotted line, they own you, and can send you anywhere they want. I had to move 90-miles from the city I loved, and start a whole new life. When you become management, you take a cut in pay, because you go salary. No more overtime pay! I also had to quit the pizza job I had. So I moved to a new place, with only one week to transfer. This meant I had to find a place to live fast, and did not have many options. I ended up in an expensive rental house. The moving expenses were not covered by the company, and neither was the amount I suddenly had to pay for vacating my Medford apartment before the contract was up. I found that I was living in extreme debt suddenly, and could barely afford the basics of everyday living.

I also quickly found out that when you become management, you are no longer allowed to socialize with your coworkers. So, now I was not only broke beyond any comparison I had ever seen, I also had no social outlets.

I have always loved trains. I have always been able to find joy in watching the trains. It did not take me long to find where the train yards were in Roseburg. It also did not take me long to learn the schedules. I found the best place to watch the trains, see all the switching, and have a wonderful evening for almost no cost at all.

At the PayLess store I was working at, we had a popcorn machine. We made the popcorn fresh in the store and sold it to the customers. We had the real machine, and it was just like you get at the movies… complete with the butter, too! When we made the popcorn, you could smell it through the entire mall, and we sold a ton of it every day. Then at closing time, the cashier working where the popcorn was, had to clean the machine. The rule was that any popcorn left when it was time to clean it was put into the checkout bags for any employee to take home at the end of the day. (That was when we still used paper bags!) Even though the “expected” proper way to do this was to let it sell-down, and have almost no popcorn left-over at the end of a day, often the clerk would pop a fresh batch (or two!) just before closing. This ensured that there was always plenty to divvy-up between any employee who wished to take some home. Shortly after I started working at this store, the Sunday night clerk would make sure there was always a huge amount for me to take, even after all the others had taken what they wanted. This clerk understood that I did not have many joys at that time, and the popcorn was one thing she could do that really brought a smile to my life.

Sunday nights happened to also be the most active night in the railroad switching yards. I had found a perfect spot to sit and watch the trains. I could back my truck right up to the tracks, and sit on the tailgate, eating my popcorn, and to me, it was better than going to the movies! I would stop at the convenience store and buy a large cup of Mountain Dew, and The Sunday Paper. So, on Sunday nights, my “dinner and show” consisted of a lot of Mountain Dew, A huge amount of popcorn, the trains, and the Sunday paper. To me, it was perfect! I had found a solution to my current problems.

This place where I went to watch the trains was a secluded part of town that had very little life in it. There was one little road leading into this area. Once it crossed the tracks, it only went about a quarter-mile further, then dead-ended at the river. There were about five or six houses on this road beyond the tracks. Needless to say, I seldom saw another person, other than the rail workers down here. I also seldom saw any cars come down this road. I had literally found a peaceful quiet spot where I could freely watch the trains, and not worry about what else might be happening nearby.

Because of the type of place this was, the rail workers got to know me pretty well. All the switchmen, and conductors knew me by name. I shared my popcorn with them. Occasionally, they would take their break on my tailgate with me. They got to know my love of trains, and were more than eager to allow me to be very close to watch and learn what they did in all the switching. They would allow me to hop on a boxcar step, and then proceed to connect it, or send it free from the line, and let me ride it as it rolled slowly down the switch to eventually connect with a gentle bump onto a waiting line. Then the locomotive would come and connect that line, and move it to another switch, still allowing me to ride along with it! Occasionally I got to ride in the locomotive while they were doing the switching. They would always make sure to stop a line right next to my truck. I always left my wallet sitting on the seat of my truck, left the keys hanging in the ignition, and never locked the door. All the rail workers would come and share the popcorn. Occasionally, the workers would bring me a can of Mountain Dew, just to say thanks. Often as they finished and were ready to head south with the train full-length with all the boxcars they had switched, transferred and connected, I would give them what popcorn was left, and the paper I had been reading, so they could read it as they went south to California.

My Sunday night ritual continued for well-over a year. There were many times the engineer had offered to allow me to ride all the way to California with them. But the catch was always that I would have to get off the train before coming into the yard at their destination, and then I would have to find my own way back home. I was not legally allowed to be on those trains, and if I was seen, or caught I would be arrested, and they would lose their jobs. But in those days, they still allowed people to ride boxcars, as long as they got off before they entered a yard. I would have been allowed to ride in either the locomotive, or the caboose. The offer was so tempting, but I always declined. There were three reasons I declined. The first was the fear of being arrested. The second was that I did not have the money to find my own way back. And the third was that I always had to be at work on Monday. I could not afford to lose my job.

Also, while in Roseburg, I started riding horses again. I had not ridden in many years, but in Roseburg it happens to be one of a few activities one can do for a night of entertainment, and socializing. Among the crowd that I rode with was the Douglas County Sheriff’s Posse. I did not have my own horse, but horse people always have extras. Every Thursday night, I had my choice of many horses I could ride. I joined the competition team cattle penning, and other equestrian events. I even started going to the clogging nights. I had found a perfect niche for myself in this town.

Every Sunday night, I went to the tracks with my paper, Mountain Dew and popcorn for well over a year.

Also during this year, I had gotten well-known in the town, become friends with many of the people who were city officials, police, fire, etc. I had gotten a reputation for not taking any crap from shoplifters, or anybody who tried to cheat, rip-off, con, or take something that was not theirs. I busted a lot of shoplifters, and was also the person who had to go to the courthouse to testify when their summons came up. I had gotten a reputation that was solid, credible, and always documented the cases. No shoplifter ever got away with it on my watch. I also had acquired personal contacts in The Police Dept, and courthouse. (back then it was beneficial for each employee to take an active part in the prevention of theft, because every employee got a bonus based on store profit, so any theft was literally stealing from our bonuses.) The word spread quickly, and those who wished to steal always sent a scout to be sure I was not working at the time. Payless had three locations in Roseburg, and I made sure all three stores got photos, and briefings on every single person we busted, so they basically were not welcome in any of our stores. I had busted so many people that The Bimart and Fred Meyer stores also used our notes to tell those same people they were not welcome there either. In a small town, it does not take long to get to know people, and to clean up the town of the trouble makers. (but there is always a degree of crookedness, and if you get involved enough you will eventually find it is deep-seated withing the city operators.)

And, also back then, it was simpler. If someone was caught doing something wrong, the community would shame them, and they would either change their ways, or they would choose to go to a different town. It was not like it is now where anybody who does wrong and gets busted then wants to get revenge, or hurt the person who busted them. It was well-known that you only did wrong if you would not get busted. Once ya got busted, you changed direction. Back then nobody flipped out and got revenge, or violent. The community stood their ground, and had the upper hand.

I was fairly confident in my Sunday night train watching, and never once considered anybody would think I was doing anything but exactly that. Occasionally throughout the year random police officers I had gotten to know would stop in and chat while I was down there. My Sunday nights were wonderful! Enjoying the trains, Sharing my popcorn and paper, enjoying good company, and enjoying my Mountain Dew.

One Sunday night, all that changed.

For some reason, the trains were not running that night. Every switch line was empty. There were no cars to rearrange, switch, connect, or disconnect. I parked in my normal spot. I sat on my tailgate. I ate my popcorn. I read my paper. I drank my Mountain Dew. Hours went by. Not a single train came or went. From the moment I had parked down there, I never saw a single car go by to the lower end of that road. Not a single person walked by. Four hours had come and gone. I had eaten the entire bag of popcorn, read the entire Sunday paper, drank the huge amount of Mountain Dew. I was getting tired and wanted to give up waiting. But I knew they would come. They always came on Sunday night. I had to pee. No big deal, I always peed down by the tracks. All the train workers always peed along the tracks, too. Normally, we would just pee right there. We were next to the trains, and there was never anyone else around. No big deal. But tonight was different. I was in the wide-open. There were no trains to stand next to.

Since this night was different, I felt I should walk over and pee behind one of the rail-shacks. I knew it was silly. I had not seen a soul for over four hours. Nobody had come down that road. I knew I was all alone down there… but I still had the feeling I should not just drop my pants right there and pee. So I walked over to one of the rail-shacks, stepped behind it, dropped my pants, and peed.

As Soon as I started peeing, the area was filled with bright lights, tires were squealing, and voices were shouting at me over loud-speakers! “DON’T MOVE!” “PUT YOUR HANDS UP!” “NO SUDDEN MOVES!” “THIS IS THE POLICE!” Needless to say I was a bit freaked out! The lights were blinding, the speakers were loud, and I had absolutely no idea what just happened. Keep in mind I had just started to pee… and with needing to go that bad, there was no “off” switch on it! I heard lots of cars, and lots of car doors. I heard many angry men yelling their commands at me. I immediately put my hands above my head… Very high and very visible! The first one to come close identified himself as a “Narcotics Detective” I was still facing away from them, and not finished peeing, but was looking over my shoulder to see what was happening. He stepped between the bright lights and me, and I could see then that they all had their guns drawn on me. He did too! He was very close to me and ordered me to slowly turn around. I said I was still peeing. He told me he did not care, and ordered me to turn around. I did.  As I turned, I could see four unmarked detective cars surrounding me, and eight detectives with guns drawn on me! With my hands up, I had no way to hold my pants up as I turned. I had finished peeing, though. My pants dropped, along with my underwear. Then the first detective asked why my pants were down. I told him I was peeing when they came up, and with my hands up, and having to turn around I could not keep them up. I asked if I could pull them up. He told me to keep my hands up. I did. I know better than to argue with a cop. I knew they had some misunderstanding, and they would soon figure out their mistake. I knew I just needed to cooperate until then. 

He motioned for another detective to cuff me, and the others to go around the shed. Then they walked me to one of the cars, with my pants still down around my knees, frisked me, and seemed disappointed. (There obviously was nothing hidden in my pants!) The detectives that went around the shed said they found nothing. The first detective said “Where is it?” I asked what he was looking for. He told me not to get smart with him. Then he asked for my ID. I told him it was in my wallet on the seat of my truck. He asked again “where’s your stuff?” I asked him again what he meant. He looked pretty mad, and he sent other detectives over to search my truck. Just then, two patrol cars pulled up to where they were. The first officer to get out of his car was the night sergeant. I knew him well from working with him against the shoplifters. His wife also happened to work in the same store I did. He greeted me by name, then asked the detective what was up?

The detective told him they were busting me for dealing drugs. The sergeant burst out laughing, then ordered them to uncuff me, get me out of the back seat, and let me pull my pants up. They had a brief power struggle, then the detective grudgingly let me out of the back seat, and uncuffed me. As I pulled up my pants he told me to still stay right there, and not to move. I did as I was told. When his detectives came back from searching my truck, they reported there was “Nothing there”.

The detective was angry, and again asked me “where is it?” I again asked what he was looking for. Then the sergeant caught on. He figured out that they thought I was down here dealing drugs. He explained to them who I was, and what I do down here every Sunday night. He explained that the entire rail yard, knows who I am, and I was the last person who would ever do, or deal drugs. He explained that I ride with The Posse, and many Sunday nights, the beat officers have come down and just hung out, ate popcorn , and chatted with me. The detective dismissed most of his team, and six of them left in three cars. The one who was this guy’s driver stayed, but stood away from us. The detective then explained how a couple of months before this, they had gotten an anonymous tip that there was drug dealing going on from the back of a pickup truck backed up to the tracks. So they set-up surveillance. They made sure to be down the road before I got down here, and position themselves so they could watch and collect evidence each time I met with any of the rail workers. They noted how I used the popcorn as a cover, and even the newspaper. They thought they had watched long enough, and had enough evidence, that they set up the bust for this night. At this I burst out laughing. The detective glared at me when I laughed. Then he explained that they had waited where I could not see them, but they could watch for me to make my deal, then they all came out at once. He explained how they were surprised there were no trains tonight, and how they had waited the whole time. The Sergeant asked why I had my pants down. The detective told him how I came over behind this shed to make the deal and that is when they busted me. The Sergeant still did not grasp why my pants were down. I decided at that point to tell the Sergeant what I was doing behind the shed. He laughed. He told me I was free to go.

The detective was not eager to let me go. He insisted I be cited, and not allowed to just walk away.  He and the sergeant had another power struggle. The detective seemed to have more power on this one, though. The detective wanted me cited for trespass, and indecent exposure. The Sergeant argued that trespass would never stick since I had the permission from the rail yard to be there. And the indecent exposure was only because of the detective ordering me to expose myself. So the detective decided to have me cited for “public urination”. Unfortunately, the Sergeant could not argue against this one. It seems the neighbors of the rail-yard have been complaining a lot about the rail workers , and others urinating publicly, and often visible to their homes. Even though I was behind a rail-shed, I could still be considered “publicly visible”. So the sergeant had to tell his officer to write me a citation. Then the Sergeant pretty much read the riot act to the detective, and chided him for not doing better research, asking the beat officers, or even checking it out with the railroad. He chided the detective for not running my plates, and doing a little background check. He told the detective he could have saved everyone a lot of trouble. The detectives then left in a mad huff. They had screwed up, and made complete fools of themselves. The sergeant advised me to not come down there for a while, because that detective would be looking for any reason he could to find something against me.

Well, in a couple weeks after that night, it was court day again. My court date was scheduled as the same date as the normal court-day, where I presented the evidence of all those who I had busted in the stores in the past month. There were a couple of cases called before mine was called. When the judge read my name on the docket, he looked up in shock. He asked how I plead to “public urination”, and I told him “guilty with explanation”. The sergeant was also there, and asked to speak on my behalf. The judge let him, but then took about ten minutes to read the full report, looked up and charged me with guilty, and set a fine. As he did this, many people in the courtroom started talking among themselves. Many audibly protested the judge’s decision. But there were many who were very happy about this. The judge called for silence, he explained to the entire courtroom how much time of the detective team I had wasted, and how I made them all look like fools, and I was lucky this was my only fine. I was furious, and more than a little ticked off that he would claim I had wasted the time of the entire detective team! I really did not care that I had to pay a fine for urinating in public. I did exactly that- urinated in public. I understand the laws. I support the laws. I do not support the crooked nature of the judge who would state it was somehow my doing that cost that detective team so much time and money. And I was even more furious that he thinks I had somehow made them look like fools! I knew better than to say anything to the judge.

Then the judge started calling the cases in which I was to present the evidence, and documentation. As he listed the names, and cases, he realized every one of these was involving me. He stopped reading the cases, and look at the entire court, and grinned. He told all of these people their cases were dismissed, there would be no charges, and that they were free to go. Those were the ones who earlier had been very happy to hear I was charged as guilty. The judge told them they could go, but ordered me to stay. After the court had cleared, he told me that he hoped I learned my lesson. I told him I would not urinate in public again. He grinned, and then told me, “No. The lesson I hope to teach you is to never make our detectives look like fools again.” I assured him that I would never make his detectives look like fools. He smiled quite proud, feeling he had done his detective buddies quite a good service. I was bit miffed that this judge had congratulated me over and over in the past year for doing such detailed work, and having solid evidence, yet when his buddy detectives made fools of themselves, he took it personally. At this I decided I had nothing else to lose, so I continued, and said “You and your detectives are quite capable of making fools of yourselves without any help from me.” And I walked out of the courtroom. As I left, I heard him say “You better hope I never see you in my court again!” I just smiled.

I had already decided management at PayLess was not where I belonged, and had already gotten my regional manager to approve my change of status back to hourly. I also had started the process of transferring back to Medford again. I was pretty confident that I would never see that judge again.

A few weeks later, everything was complete and ready for me to go back to Medford. All three stores threw a going away party for me at an awesome steakhouse, where they reserved the whole restaurant just for our party. Many of the police force showed up, and the entire Posse, along with many of the other equestrian people I had made friends with over the year while riding. Of course none of them could leave my “suspected drug dealing” and “public urination” alone. They all had great laughs all night about it… and so did I! When I would head to the bathroom, of course many of them would pretend to be those clown detectives, and stalk me. Then of course some would come in while I was peeing, and order me to put my hands up and turn around. It was all fun at that point, and every one of us thoroughly enjoyed the mayhem!

I had my moving van packed before I went to the party, and knew I would leave town first thing in the morning. The very last thing I was given by the entire group as I left the party was an enormous bag of that popcorn! (it took up the entire passenger seat of that moving van!) It took over an hour to leave as I got hugs and teasings from every single one of them. Even the toughest of Rough n Tough Posse all gave me hugs. I ate popcorn for breakfast the next morning. I ate popcorn while driving, and I ate popcorn while unloading the truck.

I still find it funny that anyone would ever spend more than half a minute watching me, and assuming I was dealing drugs!

While it did totally humiliate me, piss me off, and make me realize how crooked some agencies operate, I still will always support the local laws, and do everything within my power to never end up in jail.

As you munch your popcorn, may you happily watch the trains, and maybe you will have the excitement of some foolish detective thinking you are a drug dealer, and have the opportunity to be publicly humiliated, caught with your pants down, cuffed and stuffed into the back seat of a police car! …and hopefully they figure out the mistake they made before they haul you off to jail. ~=:-)