After returning home from the war, my skill set was somewhat limited. There is not much need in the civilian world for an Army infantryman, and not many jobs that interested me. I had become a different person. I needed a sense of danger to survive. I needed a sense of belonging. Plus, as many a veteran will tell you, it can be difficult for a veteran to work with civilians for many reasons. I will leave those reasons for your veteran friends to explain. But the long and short of it was, I needed a job that could keep me motivated, be stressful, and have a sense of mortality.

I decided it was a logical move to become a police officer. In January of 2007, I got my wish and started the Albuquerque Police Academy. It was a 6 month paramilitary academy that was meant to cause stress and see how you react under pressure. I LOVED it!. This is what I was used to. I felt at home. Throughout the day, we were inundated with information, ranging from how to read and interpret law, to defensive tactics, shooting, legal use of force and SO much more. I graduated the academy in early summer of 2007. I was so proud to be back in a uniform and continuing my life of service.

My first assignment was day shift on the West Side of Albuquerque. Not exactly the thrilling sense of danger I was looking for. For those not familiar with police work in Albuquerque, I was assigned to the NORTH West Side, which is one of the more calm area commands within the city. I took mostly shoplifting, car accident and domestic violence calls. Rather mundane work for a rookie cop looking for excitement. I switched to Swing shift, which changed my work hours to late afternoon into the early night hours and things were a little better but still not what I was looking for.

All throughout the academy, the instructors shared stories of arrests and insane critical incidents and the common thread in every story was that they all took place in the Southeast Area Command. The Southeast contains basically every facet of life in Albuquerque. We have the very rich, to the very poor, and everything in between. From world class physicists that work at the labs, to college students, to prostitutes and gang bangers. It also has the richest mix of race and religion. So as you can imagine, every possible type of crime that could occur within Albuquerque, occurs in the Southeast.

The first chance I got, that’s where I went. I had arranged it so that I would be working with guys that I went through the academy with, as well as other officers with whom I had formed a solid bond. My first shift in the Southeast was graveyard and I could not be happier. This bid started around March of 2008. One bid (about 1 year), in the Southeast was like 2-3 bids in any other area command in terms of experience gained. Throughout this bid, which my fellow officers who shared this bid with me will tell you was the best bid we have ever had, we encountered multiple high speed car chases, fights, murders, shootings, foot chases, tasings, and so much more. At this time in my career, police work NEVER felt like work. I actually HATED that fact that I had weekends. I wanted to work EVERY DAY. I loved the job SO much!

By the time this bid started, I had about 9 months of experience on the streets of Albuquerque. In May of 2008, I was dramatically reminded why the Southeast had the reputation that it did. I was approaching my one year mark of being a patrol officer. I was still very much considered a rookie and for good reason. Well, I showed up for work one night, like every other night, although I had no idea what the Southeast had in store for me in just a few hours of reporting in for briefing. After briefing, we all left the substation to head to our cars and begin our shifts. Of course the typical hazing ensued, we would make fun of each other, laugh about a call from the previous night, pick on each other and so on. It was just like the Army and I loved it. I finally made it to my car and started taking calls. as the night progressed I met up with a fellow officer and we decided it was time for some Copenhagen and a drink from a local gas station.

The radio crackled in my ear as dispatch was sending officers to different calls, officers were reporting their status, and other general radio traffic. The night was warm so my window was down as I drove through the streets at about 2 in the morning. My buddy Aaron was driving in front of me as we headed East on Central Ave toward the gas station. A vehicle in front of Aaron made a VERY sudden right hand turn from the center lane into a nearby hotel on the right hand side of the road. Aaron immediately turned on his lights and initiated a traffic stop. As is standard protocol, I immediately turned my car around and joined Aaron as the vehicle rolled to a stop in the far end of the parking lot of the hotel. We both had all our emergency lights on as well as our spot lights pointed at the mirrors of the offending vehicle. This provides a veil of light that prevents the occupants from seeing us as we approach. It is considered an officer safety practice because if someone in the vehicle intends on doing harm to us, they will have a hard time seeing us before we are right up on their window.

Aaron steps to the driver side window and I approach the passenger side. Have you ever heard of officers saying that they had a sixth sense about something right before all hell broke loose? Well, it is true. My “Spidey” sense was going off big time. For some reason, I KNEW there was a gun in that car. I don’t know why or how I knew this, but I just did(Red Flag). I am immediately on guard. As I peer into the passenger side window I observe the passenger as a black male, somewhat heavyset, in his early 20’s, maybe a little younger. But it wasn’t the fact that he was black and I was white that made this situation feel weird, it was what he was doing. As I looked into the window, I notice that he hasn’t looked up at me even once. That was odd. He was eating a burrito from Allsups and casually placing a thin line of salsa across the top before every bite. Now this behavior in almost any other setting would not seem weird or out of place, but in this day and age, at 2 in the morning, being pulled over by two cops and being as casual about the situation as the kid was, for some reason, was extremely unsettling for me (Red Flag).

I could hear Aaron speaking to the driver who was also a young black male, much skinnier than the passenger. Aaron was attempting to identify the driver who unsurprisingly didn’t have his I.D. with him. I heard Aaron ask for the guys name so he could write it on his notepad and the driver hesitated (Red Flag). He gave a name with the uncertainty of a child lying to their parents (Red Flag).

Aaron made a motion to me that we should return to our cars to have a brief discussion. As we moved back from the vehicle, I had to tell Aaron what I was sensing, “There is a gun in that car dude”.

“I know, I feel that too, he is concealing on me.” (Concealing is cop speak for giving false identification information. “I think he has been drinking too, I smell it on him. I am gonna give him a PBT” A PBT is a portable breath test. Aaron grabs the device and we move back to our positions alongside the vehicle. As I continue to watch the passenger, still eating that damn burrito like he hadn’t a care in the world, a female who comes out of the hotel on the floor directly above us grabs my attention. She comes down the stairs and greets me.

“What’s going on”? She asked, seeming very concerned. I told her that we were in the middle of a traffic stop and that if she needed something, that it would have to wait until we were finished.

“But that is my car.” (Red Flag)

“Oh, well who is driving it then?” I ask, now extremely intrigued. She pauses suddenly, (Red Flag). “J…..John” she sputtered, very unsure of her answer. (Red Flag) I then asked her to stand in front of the vehicle where I could see her and continued watching the passenger eat his fuckin burrito.

To my surprise, the driver actually provided a sample for the PBT, and upon its completion, Aaron once again signaled that we move back to our vehicles and await the results. I explained my interaction with the female and start to notice that the driver is sticking his head out of the window. Not just looking but like, REALLY stretching outside the window. I immediately yell, “Get the fuck back in your car!” He seems to ignore this command and continues stretching further out the window. I yell again, “Get the fuck BACK in your car!” At this point I realize, he is gonna make a run for it. “He’s gonna run” I say to Aaron and immediately begin rushing toward the driver. By this time he is halfway out of the vehicle climbing THROUGH the window. As I reach the rear bumper of the car, the driver is all the way out and suddenly turns toward me. As his body is halfway to facing me his arm extends and I see a bright flash from the end of his arm.

“Bang”, the gun goes off directly at me. At this point we were only about 10 feet away from each other. I basically fall backward to avoid being struck by the bullet meant to kill me. As I hit the ground, my lapel mic for my radio flew off my shirt. I reached for it and placed it on my shoulder lapel and stood to my feet. I don’t remember doing it, but somehow, my gun was also in my hand as I stood. I quickly fire two rounds at the subject as he begins to run. He ran along length of the hotel, would aim and fire a round or two in my direction as I pursued him. I would duck, then quickly return fire as we both continued running. We then began running North toward Central with the cars of the hotel occupants acting as a boundary between the two of us.

As we ran, he would shoot, then I would shoot, then he would shoot then I would shoot. As he crossed Central, ( I wouldn’t learn this until much later), Aaaron got off a round that struck the subject in the butt cheek, but he continued running. After crossing Central and still heading North, I dropped to a knee and tried to take a slow aimed shot at the guy. BOOM, the round flew through the air, MISSED. Fuck, I got back up and continued the pursuit. Man, this guy was FAST. After another 100 feet or so, I dropped to a knee and fired one last round, BOOM. He kept running. SHIT!! As I began running again, I watch him turn to the West rounding the corner of a building and out of sight.

Now, I have been trained by not only the U.S. Army, but also the Albuquerque Police, I know I cannot run blindly around a corner chasing an armed person. So, I stop, cross the street that was directly East of me to provide distance, and do a tactical reload because I have no idea how many rounds I fired at this point. I then, slowly, from the far side of the street, clear the corner visually and realize, he is gone. No sign of the armed man who was just trying to kill me. Where the fuck did he go? All the while, we were reporting in to dispatch that we had shots fired, and gave descriptions of the subject we were pursuing, so we know the cavalry is on the way. Officers begin to arrive within a minute of losing sight of the guy, and they start their perimeter set up.

It is at this time that I am separated from other officers. Standard protocol in an officer involved shooting is that the involved officers are immediately sequestered. As more and more officers arrive, the streets are illuminated like the Fourth of July with red and blue lights. Before I know it, almost a hundred cops are on scene in DOZENS of cop cars and trucks. I get placed inside another cop car all by myself. Left alone to reflect on the past 15 or so minutes that has transpired. We are supposed to have a “Buddy Officer” sit with us during this time so we are not completely alone following this traumatic experience, but my “Buddy Officer” Danny Garcia, is tied up holding a perimeter position along the inner perimeter. It takes over two hours to get an officer to relieve Danny so he can come to my side. During this time I am not allowed to discuss the situation with him so I don’t. He stands “guard” near the vehicle as if he is protecting the President. I can’t help but laugh at that now.

My attorney meets me at the scene and begins talking about what is going to happen over the next few days and weeks. I give him the run down of what had happened and he assures me that it was a “Good Shoot”. During all of this, the offender is still missing. I finally hear radio chatter from our helicopter that he is noticing a heat signature in a dumpster directly behind the building. I also heard that our K9 unit has picked up a scent in the same vicinity. Our tactical units then switch their frequencies to a blocked channel. Moments later I hear a loud “BANG”. This was not a gunshot, I know THAT sound, no , this was a flash bang device going off. a few moments later the radio crackles again with the news that the offender is in custody and needs medical for a gunshot wound and injuries related to the flash bang.

Within an hour or so I am called to the crime scene van. I am about to get pictures taken of me, and give up my handgun. I was issued a different gun and released to go home. (Officers involved in a shooting must give their handgun to criminalistics in order for them to complete their investigation, but they also do not want an officer just involved in a shooting to be left defenseless in the event of any sort of retaliation for the shooting.)

I decide that I should not be alone so I went with my “Buddy Officer” to his place where we both try and get some sleep. Ha!! Key word here is TRY. I laid on his couch and kinda dozed a bit but not long. He then tells me that he is going to get his hair cut, so I tag along, again, not wanting to be alone. Throughout the entire day, I am worthless. I am mentally and physically drained. All I see in my head, over and over and over again, is that first shot going off. That bright muzzle flash of the round that was meant to kill me. My heart POUNDS but my body is filled with lethargy.

Over the next couple days, I meet again with my attorney and then finally with the investigation board. This board is a mix of different agencies utilized to investigate another department’s use of deadly force. As I sit next to my attorney, I feel scared. Questions and uncertainties fill my mind. Did I do the right thing? Was my shooting justified, am I going to end up in prison? What will my daughter do if I go to jail? And all those concerns are worsened when the lead investigator opens the questioning with, “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say, can and will be used against you in court. You have the right to have an attorney present during any and all questioning. You have the right at any time to stop answering questions and make no further statements.” I have said those exact words to countless suspects of crimes, but hearing those words being said to me was a whole new experience.

The questions were asked, my statements were given and the interview ended. I walked with my attorney back to his office and we discussed the interview and how we felt it went. Now was just the waiting game to see if there would be charges brought up against me. A few days later, I went in to see the department psychologist, again standard practice, to see if in his professional opinion, I was fit to return to duty. We both agreed that I was ready to get back to work. I got my gun back from criminalistics, got my car back, and it was time to resume the beat.

About a year later, I got a letter in the mail from the District Attorney’s office telling me that I was exonerated of any wrong doing and that my shooting was considered justified. The D.A. would consider the case closed.