It was the Friday night before Christmas, a crisp
starlit evening.
We were cruising the township roadways with
Santa Claus on the rescue.
It was an
annual event, much enjoyed by many of the smaller members of the community and,
truth be told, by many of the bigger ones as well.
The lights were flashing, the siren
screaming, the air horn blasting and regular sounds of “Ho Ho Ho” were echoing
in the night air from behind me.
I rode
the officer’s seat in the cab, just enjoying the atmosphere and the smiling
children we encountered on our slow tour.
My fun was broken by a radio call.
“
Comm Center to Chief 36,” the radio query
came.
After I responded, the dispatcher
asked, “You wouldn’t happen to be out with Santa Claus by chance, would you,
Chief?”
“Affirmative,” I answered.
“Can you call in by phone?” the dispatcher
asked.
I didn’t have a good feeling as
I reached for the cell phone mounted on the dash. Was some scrooge upset by the siren noise, I
wondered. When I got the dispatcher on
the line, it was nothing like that.
“Hey, Chief, we just had a call
from a grandma on Greenfield
Road. She was
upset ‘cause she had been out when you went by and her grandchildren just missed
Santa.”
"Please tell me she didn’t call
in on 911?” I asked the dispatcher, almost dreading his response. The 911 emergency line is certainly not the
proper method to obtain a visit by Santa Claus.
“Oh yeah, she did,” he said with a laugh.
“Sorry about that, we’ll take another run down
that road.” We have to take care of a
grandma like that, I thought to myself.
“Thanks, Chief, and Merry Christmas,” the
dispatcher answered, as we both disconnected the line.