Melville CookeOVER THE course of a journey from Savanna-la-Mar, Westmoreland, to Kingston on Saturday, October 16, into Sunday, October 17, I had a four direct and one indirect encounter with the police that sums up the hate-love relationship between the public and the constabulary force. For what it is worth, three of the encounters were negative, one positive and one indifferent.
The first was outside Independence Park in Savanna-la-Mar on the Saturday evening. I was at an entertainment event when I heard two gunshots behind me and to my right. I turned, saw the usual 'after shot' gathering of an audience to whatever was happening, but also saw some people running out of the park. I joined the runners (walking, though) and outside saw the strangest confrontation I have ever witnessed.
A man with a baby cradled in his left hand was 'backing up' a man with a black gun in his right hand. The man with the gun zigged, the man with the baby zigged, blocking his path. The man with the gun zagged, the man with the baby zagged, shouting at the armed (with a gun) man. A number of animated persons kept a safe distance while hurling abuse at the armed man, who looked very, very frightened, as he clutched the gun but kept it at his side, pointed at the ground.
Then he saw an opening and headed off down the road at high speed, looking over his shoulder like a runner checking if another athlete is closing in. The last I saw of the running gunman was a flash of cloth as he bolted around the corner, heading back into the heart of Sav.
SHOT THE WRONG MAN
On returning to the park what I suspected from the man's haircut was confirmed; he was a policeman. And the people close to the shooting when it happened insisted that he had shot the wrong man. Chalk up one negative.
At a few minutes after 11:00 p.m. I was at Pier 1 in Montego Bay, in the line for the FAME Road Party 'Storm Surge'. I had a yellow towel over my left shoulder and a man not in uniform or in any way identified as a policeman walked over to me. "Tek off de towel," he ordered. Having been to quite a few events at Pier 1, I knew him to be a policeman, so I complied. "No, shake it out," he ordered again. I did. When nothing fell out he grunted and retreated. So much for courtesy. Chalk up two negatives.
At a few minutes after 3:00 a.m. on Sunday, October 17, I was just outside Falmouth, Trelawny, when I was stopped by the police. I reversed, said goodnight, got a courteous response and an enquiry about firearms in the vehicle, to which I responded, 'no sir'.
While examining the documents for the car the policeman who had stopped me recognised the name and we started talking about writing matters. When I was about to drive off another policeman said he wanted to speak with me and, leaning on his shotgun, he informed me on some of the hardships in the force. These included sometimes not getting the stipulated uniforms and shoe polish, as well as using personal funds to copy documents for prosecutions and fixing police vehicles. I listened and learned. Chalk up one very positive.
Sometime after 4:00 a.m. I was stopped by a patrol car in Ocho Rios, St. Ann. I took a turn that was conceivably suspicious and I was stopped by a patrol car that was behind me. The documents were checked and I was sent on my way. Chalk that one up to indifferent, leaning towards positive.
And, finally, 'before day' a two-man police patrol stopped me near Angel's Estates, just outside the Bog Walk Gorge in St. Catherine. It was decent papers checked and all until I was about to leave. "Yu no 'ave no licence plate light, Yu know sey mi can charge yu fi dat?" one of the two policemen informed me. A click of a switch solved that matter.
I ended on a negative as I headed home.
Melville Cooke is a freelance writer.
