PWG Writers Archive

Above and Beyond

Drunk Driving Affects Officers as Well

The deputy shoves me hard over the front of his cruiser and cuffs my hands together. I turn around and lean against the car. He instructs me to stay as he questions my wife. The blue lights flash in my bloodshot eyes as passing cars slow down to see what is happening. The remains of my car are scattered into the battered tree line. The deputy knows she was driving, the witnesses have already told him. But my statement doesn't match the witnesses. I continue to insist I was driving which was complicating his job. She was obviously intoxicated and open containers were found in the car. The officer is arguing with my wife to get her to admit to being the driver. I slump forward and collapse to the ground. I tasted thick blood in my mouth before losing consciousness. 

Deputy Chad Powell was sitting by me when I woke up in the hospital. The force of the impact had torn the lining of my stomach. This was as a result of my seat belt binding me and my precarious position at the time of impact. The bright red rash caused by the seat belt was proof I was not the driver. Chad looked at me with a somber expression. "If I had believed you, I'd have taken you to jail 20 miles away from the closest hospital and you would have died. I know you pulled her from the driver's seat just before impact. The tree stabbed through the driver's seat. So she would have died. The only way your story would be true is if you were dead now in the driver's seat impaled by a tree."

I admitted to nothing but my wife had already confessed to being the driver. But Chad Powell wanted something else from me. He wanted something I was not ready to give anyone. He visited me every day while I was in the hospital and even left his home number to my mother. I resented this. I had no love for law enforcement and neither did my family. But by this time, my mother had exhausted all means of reaching me. The thought of my own mother potentially turning me into the police infuriated me and I ended contact with her. 

My wife and I continued to have law enforcement come to our apartment as our marriage descended into madness and ruin. Each time the Sheriff's Department was called Chad was there on the scene. He even showed up when he was off duty. I perceived it as a personal vendetta he had toward me. Sometimes officers take it upon themselves to do such things. Each time he put me in the back of his cruiser I got a lecture from him. He asked me if this was what I wanted for my life. He knew my sordid family history, my time in military service and even my college courses. Deputy Chad Powell had done his homework and I felt the weight of his influence. He informed me that my mother was worried about me and cried to him. I kicked the cage separating us in his cruiser to get him to stop talking. 

Each court date I was to appear before the judge Deputy Chad Powell was there. He nearly had me denied bond on one of my pending charges related to a prior DUI. I was found not guilty of the charge and my attorney cited harassment against Deputy Powell. I smiled at Chad as I passed by him leaving the courtroom. It was possible I could get him fired and he knew it. He looked back at me with an expression of strengthened resolve but said nothing. 

I had decided to separate from my wife. I had not been rehabilitated of my ways but could not afford another fine or court case. All was well for a few weeks until she returned to my apartment and broke through my kitchen window. I had been drinking alone and she had been drinking all night. Our heated exchange spread into the parking lot and the Sheriff's Department was called. A deputy took my wife and Chad took me. He was in plain clothes and had nothing to charge me with. I smiled as I told him, "I'll have your badge for this." 

It quickly occurred to me that he wasn't taking me to jail but driving away from town. I assumed it was time for Deputy Chad and me to come to blows. I asked him if he was sure he wanted it to come to this. He said nothing as he pulled into a darkened church parking lot. He exited the car and opened my door and walked ahead into the cemetery to the side. I exited the cruiser and peered around mildly confused. I saw he had stopped at a headstone. I stepped beside him and read the name on the headstone. It reads, David R. Powell. 

Chad explained to me his younger brother would be my age. He was addicted to cocaine and drank heavily. One night he drove his car over an embankment and flipped three times. His vehicle was unrecognizable but he appeared to be unharmed as the highway patrol arrived. They leaned him against the patrol car awaiting the ambulance and moments later he slumped over and collapsed to the ground. He died on the scene. Chad explained I had done the exact same thing the night of my accident. And he couldn't allow me to meet the same end as his brother. "I don't know why I took you on as a personal project. I guess I saw so much of David in you. I couldn't save my brother so I guess I'm trying to save you. I'll take you back home now and you can do what you want." 

Deputy Chad Powell was one of the people in my life that helped me make a change. I have come to realize that drunk driving doesn't only affect the drivers and the loved ones killed as a result. It affects the officers that arrive on the scene as well. 

Sources/Resources

Previously Posted on FullofKnowlege.com

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