Once I turned 16 and got my drivers’ license, I wanted to drive everywhere. My mother commented that she thought it was great because I would drive my brother and sister anywhere they needed to go, which freed her up for other things. I wasn’t a crazy driver and didn’t drive particularly fast, but I liked to get up to speed quickly. My first car, a 1969 Mustang Mach 1, was perfect for that. I remember one time I stopped behind a couple of cars at the light in the southeast corner of the McDonough square, in clear view of anyone who might have been in the old McDonough Police Shack. I must not have been paying attention because when I looked up, the light was green, and there was no one in front of me. I jumped on the gas and laid a drag right there on the square. No one chased me down, so I got away with it. I guess I owed the cosmos a police encounter, and it would claim it…with interest.
On that fateful night, my story was just too good to be true. I had driven my sister Tammy to her piano lesson. After I dropped her off, I went to the library to do some work on a school project. Once I got what I needed, I went back to Tammy’s piano teacher’s house and parked in the driveway. As far as I knew, no one knew I was there. After several minutes, Tammy came out to the car, got in and we were ready to go. Before I could put the car in gear, I could hear the sirens and see the lights. I decided to just sit there for a few seconds and let the police have the road. The police car goes flying by and slams on the brakes. I thought that was a little odd, but no warning bells are going off in my head yet. He manages to get his car turned around and comes and pulls in behind me. He ran up to the car and tried to open my door, but it’s locked. He starts screaming for me to unlock the door, which I do. He pulls me out of the car, pushes me up on the trunk, and handcuffs me.
A minute later and there are several other police cars on the scene. I’ll never forget what the officer said when the second officer arrived – ‘Put me down as a witness. I never lost sight of him.’ I am placed in the back of a police car. I figured with all the attention, this must have been some significant crime. While I am sitting in the car, Kenny Wesley comes up to the police car and asks me what was going on. I had no idea. Kenny, who was only a year older than me, my next-door neighbor and my cousin, worked for the Henry County newspaper and heard the activity over his scanner.
They haul me down to the McDonough police station. After a few minutes, the officer shows up and says if I admit to laying a drag, he’ll drop the fleeing charge. Knowing this was all a mistake, I’m not taking that deal. Even though I know I’m innocent, I’m figuring I’m going to lose. A police officer’s word against some teenage kid doesn’t usually work out well for the teenager. After a short while, my father and my Uncle Bo show up – both Atlanta Police officers. My dad comes up and asks me if I did what the officer said. I said no. That was it. Daddy and Uncle Bo talk to the officer for several minutes. They come back to me and tell me to go home. It’s over.
What I did not know was Tammy’s piano teacher’s husband knew I had been in the driveway a while. I would later find out that a schoolmate with a car very similar to mine had somehow managed to escape the police swarm in McDonough that night. Years later, that officer would be working for my father. When he was up for a promotion, my father asked me if I would have a problem with that. I told him no – the officer was wrong that night, but everyone makes mistakes.