It was a slow day, around 10:00 in the morning. Sunny, probably around 50 or 60 degrees, with just a slight spring breeze. The radio had been quiet for some time. As I sat in a parking lot running radar, a little black Ford Ranger went buzzing by at 50 in a 35; enough to get my attention if nothing else.
I whipped my trusty Crown Victoria onto the street and caught up to the public menace. "741: I'm traffic at 36th and Capehart," I said into my radio, letting my dispatcher know what I was up to.
"Go ahead", she replied, waiting for me to give a plate.
"Nebraska: Robert Nora Frank, 596 on a black Ford Ranger." That's RNF 596 in our phonetic alphabet.
I walked up to the driver and was about to go into my usual routine when I noticed it. Down near his left hip, tucked into his belt, a glint had caught my eye. I was just glancing down at it when he said, "I'm off duty." It was his badge. At that moment I knew we were both thinking the same thing: 15 over is a dime a dozen.
"741 in service, verbal warning."
Do Good || Be Strong || Fear Nothing